More Diatribes About Money

I would say, one of the easiest sins to commit would probably be greed.

Money shouldn’t mean much to any of us, considering you can’t eat it or breathe it. But it sustains life. People have also traded lives for it. And a lot of other people are willing to end life over it. I’m not some bible thumper, so get that out of your head now. What I am is a (somewhat) decent person. When you aspire to gain as much money as possible, which I don’t blame you…comforts and whatnot, you are going to make others resentful. Or jealous. People use that phrase “money is the root of all evil.” Root…as in core. At the heart of every thing related to money, people will do bad things to themselves or to each other.

My Dad took a bit of that out of the equation. But I’m not going to put him on a pedestal. As an Asian guy taking care of his family, of course he laments all the failed business opportunities he could’ve had had he not three undeserving kids to deal with. But, I think he’s a little happy that he left an imprint of children to this world. Well, that simpler world back then. You could own property and pay it off. When we made things. Rich people respect hard work. My Dad’s restaurant was in the heart of a heavy Jewish community. They value hard work, and were always respectful of him. This is a man who didn’t have a mansion, a fancy car or yacht. He toiled in a kitchen, satisfied with the basics he was giving people. I would hope he would be also proud of that as I am. Money is only as powerful as the people who you can lord it over. A person who doesn’t want money…you can’t ever buy. Some argue, a lot of homeless people would be less inclined to mental health issues if they had the money to buy medication or, at the very least, we just consider crazy rich people to be eccentric. If you ever want to suffer the worst, it’s having the means for sanity and still being insane.

The other thing that people consider happiness is maybe…a pretty girl next to you. There is a neverending well of women who will date you ONLY for your money. I think of those moments as why a lot of guys want to make a LOT of money. But, if that is the core of who they are, and you’re okay with it, you’re in a good situation. Often times, this is not the case. Money and beauty…one will outlive the other.

I was in jury duty and saw the original supermodel Janice Dickinson walk by. She had her entourage. Lawyers and well-wishers. She’d been recently diagnosed with breast cancer. Poor poor awful way for a woman to end her life. Her face was botox’d to a lioness’s jaw. She was very regal, her heels clicking down the marble floor. She spotted me as I looked. I nodded politely, as she turned back to her path. If you were to offer her bank account for mine with the notion that she would’ve never been (allegedly) raped by Cosby or have cancer, I’m not sure she would trade. Though, it’s not a great devil’s offer. I think when you make a deal with fame or fortune, you take with it some of the parts of the world that isn’t so great. I think the rich life fades. I know the richest friends of mine seem to be more interested in my simple life. I’m often more interested in people who live a basic life as my own. I think we get more creative the less we have.

Round Holes, Square Pegs

In my generation, girls were still taught to be polite. That meant if a girl was rude to you, you did something really bad to piss her off. I would say, as a guy, the very worst thing a girl could say to you is “I’m trying hard to not be rude to you.” In other words, she’s thinking something awful about you, and you’re being pushy and whatever it is you want from her isn’t going to happen.

Rejection like that cuts deeps. I mean, essentially she’s wondering aloud why you persist on something she is saying out loud. But as most of us know, something you can’t have makes us pursue more.

I would say to you folks, don’t do it. Let it go as best as you can. Because here’s the thing, women who break that barrier of “letting you down” gently and being really harsh is a Grand Canyon’s leap. It takes them a while to get there. Because, although flattered, they understand that their time isn’t to be wasted on a lost cause. That’s the arrogance (and prerogative) of women.

Look, rejection sucks for everyone. Jobs you want, the team you didn’t make, the girl or guy you wanted. You can conjure up so many things, which makes us all unique. What you should, and as you get older like me, realize is that there are plenty of people who will make you much happier. Attempting to cram square pegs in round holes gets ugly fast.

I wish you happiness.

Transgender Bathroom Law

So now you have to use the bathroom that is identified on your birth certificate.
Buddy, good luck reading Chinese.

Anyway, we're really wasting out time on the dumbest fucking shit I've ever heard. We've gone off the fucking path. We're so lost we'll never find our way back.
Now the ACLU is suing. And clogging up real justice and blah blah blah.

God humanity is disappointing. When I was a kid, I don't recall one of these moments. Not in the news, not in word of mouth...nothing. Just now...everyone wants the world to cater to them, instead of adapt to everyone else. And they see me as the sheep. That's what's sad. This selfish society we are in now wants what it wants, when it wants it. Starting with Burger King having it your way. Guess what we made ourselves into? Spoiled crybaby brats. The government is a bunch of cool parents unwilling to backhand us. Well, except me. They love to slap me around. But I'm no victim. Yes, I bitch and moan, but that's to draw attention to me NOT publicly bitching and getting the shaft anyway. I don't expect say...the court in my jury duty case to bend for me. Nope, but others do. In fact they insist and most likely in the future, will get a lawsuit over it.

For now...goddamn it, learn to adapt. Just use the damn toilet and get the fuck out. It's not like you're planning on living there. Save your energy for something that will make a difference. S'like no one has ever heard of "picking you battles." Everything is a battle to special interest groups.

"Breaking Away" (1979)

Would it be any surprise to anyone if I told you the only person who didn’t have a massive career after this movie was the lead character played by Dennis Christopher? Yes, that even included the villain of the movie played by an almost unrecognizable Hart Bochner…Ellis from “Die Hard”?

Consider that this movie also yielded Dennis Quaid, Jackie Earle Haley & Daniel Stern and Paul Dooley, you have to admit they hit on something.

It took me a while to watch this movie. Since back in 1993 I got a rejection letter from Indiana University. It was a school that I felt was a pipeline to USC, which is where I would’ve have loved to have done graduate film. But that was not meant to be. The powers that be felt I was too dumb to attend their university. And thus my hatred for anything Bloomington.

They make a big deal about this being on the campus of Indiana University, which…I can’t blame them. The complete support they got seems immeasurable compared to the production value they were able to get. And that’s just Indiana’s style though. Very helpful friendly people.

Directed by Peter Yates (an Englishman), this movie is about growing up in a small college town, having a talent and a passion but within earshot of the locals who believed there’s the college students that will move onto bigger and better things, and the locals who will continue to exist as…worker bees. Such was the attitude back in the day. Such was the attitude of my undergraduate school at Bowling Green State where the town existed simply to support the school. We called the locals “townies” in this movie they are referred to as “Cutters” since they business of the town were stone cutters.

Dennis plays a high school kid at the edge of college years, very focused at being the top of the bike world. His influences are the Italians, as they seemed to have won every bike race…in his mind anyway. He adheres to their lifestyle and mannerisms and inadvertently catches the eye of a college girl. He puts on the Italian ruse, but…as with this particular sitcom moment, the truth will eventually come out.

In lesser (read: Hollywood) hands, it would be a sitcom. In this movie, there is some really seriousness to the hurt he will have to admit to himself and to the girl he fooled. There’s no way getting around it with laughs. The honesty of this movie, is why I believe it endured so long. There is a moment…again in lesser hands, would’ve become a slow-motion grind to the finish line. They decide to pull back and allow you to see the last two laps, in a final charge (which to this day, I’ve not seen in any other race movie). Usually we’d see it in close-ups, slow-motion, just milking it ad nauseum.

This took me back to my college days. We didn’t have as great of a quarry as they have in Bloomington, but my closest friend (to this day) and I still recall the days we’d sit on a platform at the middle of our quarry and drink box wine. It’s unfortunate those days are probably over with, due to political correctness and general rods in asses. As a side note, looking at feathered haired honeys of the late 70’s brings me back to a time of simplicity. To think those women are in their 50’s now…this was a fun ride down memory lane.

"Batman Vs. Superman" (2016)

It’s been a while since I felt anything in a movie. And when you take two iconic superheroes into this generation to battle it out…you wonder if this isn’t going to be just a clusterfuck.

The answer…I can’t imagine doing it any better. But I’m not a comic book guy. I hated “Deadpool” because I knew so very little about him, and in the end would rather he die in his own vomit. Others…since we’re now in  world of “me” first, felt that type of hero made more sense. How sad.

So it was refreshing to get back to the roots of…well…what people in tights and capes do. But it lacked something. To which I could say…if you watched the older versions of “Superman” or “Batman”…comic sensibility. This is a grueling fine line to tow. Movie goers are rabidly cynical now. The idea of truth, justice & the American way disappeared in favor of slam, bam, thank you ma’am. And to be honest, moments in this movie pandered to you. Which suffers for it. The greater idea of this movie is collateral damage. The ideology of two combating forces and ideas butt heads in a deeper meaning of responsibility. We’re human, they are Gods. If they wanted to, we could be made extinct. So what holds us from abusing the power? Our attachments to loved ones, I’d imagine. Though the core of Lex Luthor’s (Jesse Eisenberg) character wonders if he could rule Gods. That’s an AMAZING lofty concept. Does it pass? Kind of. He is a ticky sociopath who has to live in the shadow of an abusive father. He shares the same background as Bruce Wayne, in that he is the son of a wealthy family. I’ve met spoiled brats like this in high school. Their power was mostly to annoy people with snobbery. In this case Lex is a pipsqueak who uses political sway to attempt to hatch a more diabolical plan (which is a wonderful nod to megalomaniacs in any superhero movie).

Alas, Zack Snyder does have a flaw. He doesn’t know when to quit with the corny. Words are said with such earnest flair that it reminds you you are watching a comic book. Only you can decide if it annoys you or not. For me, perhaps the best takes were never used. You know…more subtle. But again, it’s all time keeping before the punching and the swinging. The introduction of Wonder Woman…let me be gushy for a second, having a woman get hit by a mutated monster is the single most boner enhancing moment ever. Having her hit back made me blow a load. Now I’m not into S&M, but goddamn if that didn’t make me reconsider. Gal Gadot plays Diane Prince/Wonder Woman with such class and light touch, I’m excited to see her stand alone movie. We get a hint of it in a photograph in this movie.

You know…the single thing that separates this movie beyond anything Marvel had the balls to do (and not to start a Marvel/DC debate) is that Snyder was willing to go the distance. They deliver what they promised. And even named it something that has NEVER done that well in the box office. Anything versus Anything in movie world is death.

Again, smarter people out there could point out what they would’ve done differently. For me, I know skating too many paths would make anyone quit. You have to admire the tenacity to not shy away from it. Critics on Rotten Tomatoe were WAY too harsh on this movie (when you consider how much they gushed over the lesser “Deadpool”). It’s a good matinee watch.

California Miminum Wage Boost

California passed a tentative deal to go higher in minimum wage. Labor unions and the state did this.
Motherfuckers are determined to drive EVERY company out of California. Or discourage fast food. What the brown voters don't seem to understand is...most of the money of minimum wagers don't stay in state. The simple truth is, raising this wage means prices go up. Prices that go up means the guys on the fringe get dumped. That means more people leave, and then this place becomes s dustbowl, like that country beneath us.

The government is not smarter than you. Though  system should be in place, this democracy is now ruled by the a majority we couldn't fathom. If you ever wanted to see this place gutted from the inside out, watch California closely.

This also means MORE under the table work force. People who will require MORE jobs and so forth. I get on the face, it's a nice thought. "gimme more money so I can live." Or you can leave. The system is printing a phantom amount of dough companies cannot sustain. Especially with the OTHER garbage California introduces. This state is a losing fucking hole. And the slide is coming fast.

Oh, going back to why I'm being dumped. The lower middle class is in the trenches to live. I wouldn't say fringe living but it's enough. When the lower class gets lifted...say...that means it's my responsibility to get a better job. Never mind...we should encourage fast food workers to get out of THEIR hole. Nope, it's college educated kids coming out of school that are going to REALLY feel this. So, they essentially told me "you need to get out of YOUR rut." Though their rut is lower.

This is how California thinks. That's how I got chosen for jury duty. Because the ones that whined the most, got the grease.

This is the dumbest thing this state has done...made even more shocking since I didn't think we could get lower.

Happy Easter

S'pose you wanted me to say "Hoppy Easter" Well, I'm not a homo.
You shouldn't say this either. Unless you're babysitting a 5 year old and they're annoying you. Then say what you want. Easter is the resurrection of Christ after the Jews murdered him.

That's a badass story, by the way. But I have to wonder what the fucking bunny has to do with it. My theory, to soften the blow of the cruel way we deal with one another. Imagine a guy on a piece of wood bleeding out. "Hey look kids, a bunny!" Problem solved.

The chocolate is to satisfy women from bitching while your home watching the penultimate episode of "The Walking Dead." Y'know...to get your mind off the cruelty of humanity.

I'm Not That Interesting

I know people have a massive problem with their own privacy. I'm sure as I share here, the government can pick and choose what they want to read into my rants. And make a judgement based on it. Be honest, if we were in commie-anywhere, I'd be beaten with a baton, dragged to a gulag and I'd have to use my own blood to write my memoirs on the wall to later be found by some liberator who will praise me as a fighter of justice and freedom (when in reality it was just to beat away boredom).

I think the more freedoms we're given here in the great UNITED States of America, the more people think they're being trampled on. Bitch, this country is boss. We're given so many freedoms already, people don't realize how bad bad can get. Because most of these assholes are middle to upper middle class college edu-ma-cated turds. I was one of those turds. But I had to grow up fast. Or at least try to. The issue is, NONE of us really want to do much for what we get. This whole thing about people infringing on your privacy. Big news, if you have a brain, you get no quarter. Because you should speak up. Post a blog, and angrily bitch about how crap the world is. It's your right. But the minute you open your big fat mouth, you wave that right to privacy, because...you got what you want. Someone is interested.

I've got no aspirations to overthrow this government or any other. I'm too busy trying to stave off headaches from the satellite dishes spying on me. Just kidding. People have already spied on you. They're called your parents. And they probably have more access than any NSA garbage. By the way, what do you think they do with your information? Is your secrecy to conceal your awful self? People should know the real you. The real real shitty you. Then we wouldn't all feel so alone.

Grumpy Film School Rant

It’s impossible to say one way or another, but as I was watching through some really old student films of ours (meaning, my classmates and fellow students), it occurred to me, that had this been the digital age, we probably would still be slugging along at making movies. These days, a digital camera and an editing set up is less than $2000 (depending on how top-of-the-line you’re talking about). When I started, that was the price of a robust hard drive. You can’t even give away enough storage space to people now. It’s ridiculously cheap. But let’s get to the reality of making movies…

In my era, you did have to have a certain level of professionalism to get noticed. With the introduction of YouTube, it changed the game. Most people think the war between production started with the ability to make video look like film, the reality being able to broadcast shit gave us no reason to strive for quality. Not to say some people don’t, just that the ability to shock or gain attention through stupidity meant that the audience changed it’s way to digest. So it would seem.

You only have to look to both Paris Hilton & Kim Kardashian to realize the decline. Both with sex tapes. Both “mysteriously released” by someone. Both gained famed afterwards. What would possibly encourage others to spend money, energy and time to learn a craft? What we underestimated (and Mike Judge’s “Idiocracy” so brutally predicted) was that we were satiated with talking about trash rather than condemn and bury. This goes hand in hand with shame. No one feels it anymore. People people get defensive when they’re judged. Now, I realize being judged isn’t a good thing. But we all do it under the guise of NOT doing it. I’m damn near under law to judge, as a juror. But, judging no longer means a standard. I could tell my neighbor his garbage is making the neighborhood look bad, but he’s get defensive and tell me I park my car like an asshole. Unfortunately, this is the world we created for ourselves.

And, to boot, we’ve made it so standard now, people don’t even realize if they’re even being shamed.

A society with a high level of shame (while somewhat deviant) tends to police itself.

My point being, in the 15 years now that I’ve been away looking for beauty, craft and art…I’ve somehow missed out on the moment people stopped caring. We cared deeply back then. I would like to think it’s a generational thing. Meaning the generation before us probably saw us the same way. But that’s unlikely, in my case. I studied my predecessors and am in awe of them. The movie industry would’ve been a hard one to crack back in the 50’s-60’s but at least there was some kind of a path. And it didn’t go through bad behavior captured on digital cameras. People are so scared of being left behind, they don’t realize catching the trend always is a drag.

You're No Good With Money

“You’re no good with money” she said.

That was the sound of my girlfriend, a few weeks before she left me a long time ago. I can still hear those words. I think what she really meant was “you will never earn the money I need to feel comfortable with living.”

I don’t blame her. I’d spend my last dime on film. Stupid as it sounds. I’m not sure where this “hoarding” of film came from. But at this point I’ve stockpiled a lot of rawstock to a point where I could shoot a feature…if I had a feature script I could shoot. Or money to do the nuts and bolts of a feature. For some people this is not a difficult hill to climb. For me, it’s a lot of logistics that wear me out just thinking about it. I wish I was that young cat who doesn’t think about those things. I guess I could train myself to be that way again. But then again, I’d be in worst financial shape. Was it a self fulfilling prophecy? Or I am really that knucklehead who goes belly up for following my passion.

It’s a weird quandary. I have so much faith in what I’m doing is right. Shooting on film. Making film festivals. Working with my friends. But at the same time, the common sense side seems to scale back. I’ve heard now, two stories of people who had spent a lot of their own money making a movie, only to have it bankrupt them. Do we learn from this mistake? Dust ourselves off and re-do. Learn from them. Get smarter. Or are the stakes so high you don’t bounce back. This is when you learn who you really are.

It’s a really lonely place to be. Mostly because everyone’s path is different. I can ask a million people who’ve made it and all their stories won’t be like someone else’s. The path is arduous, sad…and you have to go about it alone. The thoughts that drive you are “do you believe in yourself enough to push forward?” “does anyone even give a shit.” The real answer is yes and no. I know, pussy way out. But what I mean is, when you believe in yourself, everyone will give a shit. Because they see the passion in you.

I found this out at work. I work at a post house who seemed to have chosen a more stable life. I can tell a lot of them are very very creative people. The younger ones have so much hopes and dreams of their future. The older ones have reality set in. So when you talk about short movies you want to make. They see your passion. In my case, they see I’m always…moving. Like doing this and that and the other. They are genuinely fascinated. And it’s really cool to talk to them about it. Everyone is also really supportive. And NOT phony support. They want to be involved. I think it’s like a clubhouse mentality. Your excitement is contagious. I’m borderline manic when it comes to making something. Highs and lows with this shit people.

Attack In Brussels

Where's Van Damme when you need him?
There's been a lot of talk about how this closes the case on allowing Muslims to immigrate to western countries. I think this type of open mindedness seems to have bitten people in the ass. So, in defending their position, their next course of action is to defend it by bringing up how Muslims are killing more Muslims than non-Muslims.

Are you morons really using this as your barometer to how we should be more tolerant? The simple fact is, if there were Catholics killing Presbyterians, we'd put a massive stop to that. Something like, pander to the natural good of humanity. Quell that shit down. What the FUCK are you suppose to say to Islamic nutjobs? You can't offer them anything. Their intention is to kill as many westerners as possible. So this graph that's been slung around about the atrocities of our brethren. All I see are man's intolerance to one another for no other reason. I doubt the people killed even cared remotely about spreading the gospel of Christianity. Nor did they care about Islam and their plight. Maybe they did, who knows? All I know is that people are dead, and people who claim to be from the Islamic State did it.

So, people with graphs, you fuckheads, take this graph to the families of the victims and explain how a Muslim didn't do this to them. Let's see if you really have the balls.

Jesus & The Merry Chain

Let’s face it, you can sniff these people out the minute you sit down next to them. I’m not sure why, other than the cadence in their speech.

I was in the waiting room at Pep Boys to get front brakes re-done. These fuckers overcharge for their service. But it was the only place open on Sunday, so…bummer for me. The guy next to me had a steering wheel cover and waiting on a radiator diagnostic. He’d been leaking all his fluid from the night before. Similar to a problem I’d recently paid to have my water pump repaired. It’s not cheap.

“Hey man” says I “where’d you get that?” I pointed to the steering wheel cover.

“Over there. It’s in that aisle. Thinking of getting one” He looked in his 20’s, his eyes were waaay too close. His Mom could be that chick in “Carrie.” Bug-eyed too. He seemed like a very helpful guy.

I went over to take a look at their selection and came back.

“Didn’t like anything, huh?” he inquired.

“Nah. Shopping. I gotta eventually get one, but not today.”

We chatted a little more. Found out he was from Santa Clarita and we rapped about Mentryville, a place I’d shot many a photo shoot and my upcoming short film. He saw that whole area grow.

It was a half hour in, and seeing my car was still queued to be worked on…that’s when it hit

“SO you believe in Jesus Christ is our Lord and Savior”

Oh.

Fuck.

Here I brought a book on Orson Welles to read, and he was going to get into it.

“Um…no.”

“well, look, it’s not what you think.”

Uh huh.

“It’s all about the good you believe. Jesus is the path to righteous and the path is to accept God, and you get what Jesus gets”

You mean, nailed to a cross and bled to death. He must’ve saw my thoughts, as most zealots do.

“Jesus is love. Love is accepting that we are all worth. And you have value.”

Huh. I’m listening.

“Everyone has value. I don’t believe in vengeful angry God. If you don’t believe you aren’t going to Hell. But it’s better to believe because you’ll just be happier, through love.”

Da’ fuck.

He continued “think about it, Jesus preached love and acceptance, even to the worst of us. People will test you. It’s not them testing you, it’s the unspeakable one.”

I’m thinking Satan. “…you ask Jesus to heal in your darkest hour, he will heal you.”

And what if he doesn’t I thought. He must’ve had this Jesus telepathy. “Most people who don’t heal, isn’t that they aren’t believers. Non-believers can still heal. It’s that they hold a resentful angry spirit in themselves.” So, he’s really saying do unto others…

“the minute you ask and want, you get. Which doesn’t mean bad things don’t happen.” Here comes the story.

“My friend who was 34 died of a heart attack. Broke my heart. Not a day goes by where I don’t think about him.”

Great.

“Easiest thing to do would be to shun God” (yes, they speak in this type of literary talk). “Jesus must’ve had a reason, but as I was on a mission, he took my friend from me.” Here comes the lesson. “I’m not sure why.” Huh? No lesson?

“Probably as I was down in Tiajuana, Ensenada…spreading his word, the unspeakable one did this to hurt me.” Could’ve de-pants you in Pep Boys waiting room. “But you don’t have to be a believer. Healing is just asking.”

Though I’ve been feeling like shit lately, it wouldn’t hurt to ask, I suppose. Or I could do some bullshit fairy dance and stand on my head to feel less neck, shoulder pain. Even with a down-syndrome’d face, he still was so earnest.

I interrupted “my business is full of bitter, resentful angry people. Cynical people who are assholes. They aren’t happy unless other people are miserable.”

“You ever ask them why they are so unhappy.”

“Fuck no. Why would I do that?”

“Maybe they don’t like themselves.”

I scratched my head. He had a point. My thoughts were interrupted by the attendant who told me the work on my car was going to cost me $240. Fuck a duck.

He pointed to my new Jesus friend, told him nothing was wrong with his car. And a $35 for diagnostic.

Goddammit. Maybe there's something to it.

Jury Doodie

Can't talk much about it, except as with most things with the shitbag city of L.A. our system is clogged again.

As you've read, I've never had much faith in the law. The cops are in the business to be in the business. They pull over people who could actually generate revenue. When you get into criminal world, the issue is that they're privatizing incarceration. Crime & punishment becomes a business, where have we seen that before? Oh right..."RoboCop" (1987).

The halls of justice downtown is very intimidating. The Stanley Mosk building is one big marble floor. The doors are straight from my inner city elementary school. The place is really old and meant to inhabit dread. Oppressive fluorescent lighting just presses on your brain. It's meant to punish everyone involve. No wonder lawyers look so stressed. They're being bombarded with square waves. All business, just the facts.

The stories people tell are...so very sad. I walk by the family law area which is REALLY sad. Families just huddled together, the last grasp at unity. The line for that room (or department as listed) went down the very very long hallway. Almost to the street. Hell in real life.

The time I was sitting outside, a Black guy got into some altercation which required sheriff's to cuff him. I watched with interest, considering he looked like a man whose children were taken from him (most likely from a "motherfuckin' bitch!"). I feel bad for a guy who feels that much love. Maybe it's the wrong place to mention this, but my own child I didn't want to put up that type of fight. Not that I didn't want to be involve. Only that I was so removed from the mother, it seemed better off not to keep involving me. I think too much pride can mess with everyone. Do I regret this decision. No. Neither did she. I feel that my life wasn't in a place where properly supporting a child (emotionally anyway) was within my means. My own life is very selfish. And living in Los Angeles is a killer. Every time I walk past family law, it reminds me how awful it could really get.

People can be harsh to one another. And if you're reduced to paperwork, it's soul crushing.

"Ninotchka" (1939)

There’s a guy at my work who STILL hates the Russians with a passion. I’ve no problems with them. Except, their reach probably has done more bad than good. And they still won’t admit it.

This is the Ernest Lubitsch film of all Lubitsch films…I think. AND with a bonus of having Charles Brackett AND Billy Wilder contribute to the script.

This movie is about a Russian representative sent to wrangle in three wayward comrades who’ve allowed the grandeur of Paris to overtake them. Having come from a country that is oppressive and super strict, the hotel to which they’ve first ran rampant in is like kids at Disneyland.

That’s when they send in their top gun. A no-nonsense, humorless Russian consulate member to negotiate jewelry that the three guys were attempting to sell to the French. Ninotchka is played pitch perfect by (a speaking) Greta Garbo. Touted and advertised as not only her first movie in talkies, BUT her first in comedy as well, you marvel at how her transition was seamless. More impressive is…COMEDY. Here’s a woman known strictly for her eyes and expressions, blended with hearing the first time, must have been shock and awe. She’s wonderful as a hard-ass Communist, but the arc of her turning to a softer romantic lead is…unbelievable. I tried to think of someone in today’s cinema who had that much range within the same movie. I couldn’t think of a single one. Which may be a credit to Lubitsch or the writing.

That’s another thing…the comedy. This is 1939, prior to the end of World War II. The amazing part about this movie, the comedy STILL holds up. It’s unreal. The one-liners would still work today (a credit to their senses of humor), and it’s not like “Airplane!” humor or “Something About Mary” which, by default…most physical humor movies are universal. This was a social commentary, mixed with universal behavior. They tapped into the core of what would be deemed funny even decades later. THAT is a sign of a perfect movie.

What a pleasure of a movie that bounces nicely and feels directed by a comforting and skilled hand. THIS is the craft I miss about filmmaking. We’re so sloppy nowadays (myself included).

"The Third Man" (1949)

If I were Orson Welles, I’d wonder why America didn’t like me either. What amounts to a cameo in this movie, it would’ve been interesting for Welles to have won an Oscar for Best Supporting Actor, considering his ego being a lead, producer and director.

This follows the story of Holly Martins, an American in Vienna who arrives to have found that his old friend Harry Lime had been murdered/or killed in an accident. Who knows. No one but the neighbors really heard or saw anything, and they’re German. Throw in a beautiful Czech girl Anne Schmidt, with forged documents…you have political intrigue. A fact after the war is that Vienna was occupied by four countries, each with its own style of justice. France, Russia, America and German. And no one trusts anyone, but many can profit from crime. This leads to the sewer systems which run through the different areas. This trade is perhaps, also, why Lime was bumped off.

But who knows. We follow Holly the entire time…yes, Holly is a man, played wonderfully by Joseph Cotton (another one of Welles’ regulars). But this isn’t an Orson Welles movie. It’s a Carol Reed movie (yes, THIS is a man as well). It’s plastered all over the box and splattered as the biggest title in the credit. Most likely so it trumps Welles’ presence. But that’s not to say, a TON of influence didn’t come from Welles himself. The lighting, the camera placement…everything seems to owe it to the man who only makes an appearance, which most casual viewers will probably still consider it an Orson Welles movie. He’s on the damn cover.

Anyway, this is a dense crime drama. A really cool look into politics in an occupied country. There doesn’t seem to be anyone in the town that doesn’t have secrets. It’s not surprising that people are suspicious of one another, as even their languages clash. There is a lot on inherent truth in these darker stories. Sometimes we won’t get the woman. Or they’ll keep fucking with you over, just to…fuck with you. Resentment and anger through the mystery of death.

"Heart Burn" (1986)

The low sway 80’s style theme song, warbling out of Carly Simon was very prevalent back in those days. “At Close Range” “Vision Quest” and the like ALL had this odd re-tread theme run throughout their movies. It is dated, but I still appreciate it. It’s the little things.

Anyway, this movie was advertised as a comedy back when it first came out. It’s not funny. It’s probably woman funny, but it’s not man funny. It’s a bitter autobiographical angry movie vented by Nora Ephron, presumably after an ugly issue with spousal infidelity.

Meryl Streep plays Rachel, a food writer (who never really writes about food at all in this movie) who tries again at marriage with a Washington D.C. columnist, Mark played by a very subdued Jack Nicholson.

There’s a really lingering part of this movie that seems to care more about the ambience of a relationship. They’re dull as fuck. And director Mike Nichols seems to lens the hell out of…the mundane nature of relationships. There’s nothing remotely charming about a car wreck. And that’s all we see with Nora Ephron’s story. The caustic nature of her and her father’s relationship played with brutal honesty. He’s a narcissist incapable of closeness with his own daughter. There is no safe harbor in this Rachel’s life. Constantly suffering one disappointment after another. Even in the simple joy of parenting, flushed through a gauze of anger (which…if we’re talking honest, the byproduct being a daughter who writes a movie portraying you as a self-absorbed half-assed parent).

It is interesting though, the depiction of everyone involved paints Rachel..er…Nora…er…as a strong woman, even though she makes the same mistake twice. Feminist would most likely spotlight her strength of independence. Having a job, being successful and determined single parent as an accomplishment. No one in this day would ever admit the obvious. She’s a terrible judge of character, with a weak constitution towards charming men.

I detest that Mark is shown more at the edge of frame, even though it’s a marquee act like Nicholson. Worst, that he is a one dimensional character. We know less about him at the beginning than at the end. This feels like a two-hander which quickly deteriorates into a solo act. Can’t blame people for wanting to hang with Streep. Though, Streep as Nora Ephron is difficult to stomach.

The Sadness Of Youthfulness

I feel old. I've felt old since I was 18.
"Whoa" she said after walking through our front doors of the office I work at. She was a representative of a corporate entity here to talk about a project I wanted to collaborate on "you just seem so young." One of my co-workers after reading an email exchange seemed to think she thought I was in charge of something. Could be my Lucky t-shirt & shants.
"I'm 41" I offered.
She smiled politely. I think I could see that she felt she may be wasting her time.

Well, I spoke the best I could about the event I wanted to help with. Emphatic about my commitment and we walked away, I think...confident, despite how young I appear.

I have no idea how to shake this stigma. And it's not a backhanded humble brag. It's irritating. Maybe it's the same shit women with big tits feel. Never taken seriously. I don't take them seriously, so I probably shouldn't be throwing stones. But it's amazing perception is reality. In business, maybe.

The other side of it is...I realize we probably treat people the way they seem to us. A precious kid we speak precious too. They end up being stunted, since they think the world will always come to them (i.e. my nephew). In this instance, in their minds, they will always be catered to. See: Hollywood star.
 We develop a lot of entitled jerks this way.

Anti-Vaccine Herbal Idiots

I have friends who dabble in this shit. Cool for you. The problem is...when a child has meningitis and you aren't a fucking doctor, I suggest your paranoia kick in and do what's right, not what some shaman in South America tells you.

This was specific to a couple in Canada (free health care, mind you) who didn't vaccinate and instead chose to go herbal route. Listen, you dumb fucking pagan dancers, if you have a cold, yes...I understand those circumstances. Chew on some ginger (as I do). Or if you get a cut on your thumb. Good, rub some goddamn mud on it. But it's a serious illness. Something a simple WebMD lookup will tell you to don't fuck around.

I'm not sure you can jail stupid in Canada, but it's amazing how many people want to flee to that country after they leave this one.

St. Patty's Day

Americans LOVE this day. It hides the fact that they drink like crazy people.
I miss the days when I could wake up and drink, then go to work. And drink there.
I'm not sure anyone my age can do that anymore.
I'm even scared to go driving at night. Everywhere, an Irish bar is jam packed with revelers of an odd celebration. The Irish really mean that much to us.
You know I really miss drinking, so at least I get to talk about booze....so here goes...
Miss mah Bushmills, Jameson, Tullamore Dew...Guinness, oh fuck, how I miss Guinness.

Post Project Depression

I think for most of us who spend a ton of time thinking about shit all the time, you get sidetracked to life. Jury duty, car issues, and the like. The fact that anyone can conjure up anything creative says a lot about the tenacity you need to get anywhere in filmmaking. It's fucking hard.

After all the energy, anger, moving at break neck speed...it all comes down to a few minutes in front of people. I'm sure when J.J. Abrams showed "Star Wars: Force Awakens" after two years of toil, it must've sent him into a dark spiral after everything was said and done. History was made, people liked it or didn't. It wasn't a movie, it was an event. And it all seemed so far away now. To me, I get massively drained from the anticipation. Is it a letdown? I don't know. I think there are a lot of filmmakers who refuse to finish their movies because they may never want it to end. Michael Mann seems like that type of person. If commerce wasn't an obstacle, he'd still be cutting "Last Of The Mohicans." It must drive someone like him crazy once the movie goes out to the public. A lot of people who say...the movie is no longer yours. Even after finishing a project that isn't mine, but I was involved, I feel their pain when they have to let go. It seems to equate to that feeling of the last day of school as a senior in high school. Your friends move on. Maybe never to be heard from again. We grow older. And do other projects and the cycle continues again. The smart ones never let that get them. They simply move on to the next thing.

The emotional roller coaster one needs to endure through the process of storytelling isn't for the easily distracted. To be truthful, it's easier to keep starting something new than to put a period at the end of your sentence. In that sense, it's closer to admitting that the movie is complete.

Damn You Asians!

I just Google'd my name. Damn, am I a loser.
The top 6 names listed have the profession and education of:
1) Doctorate in Engineering ~developer Snapwire, owns company
2) Dentist
3) Me ~ "Star Wars: Force Awakens" film guy
4) Berkshire Partner, Harvard M.B.A.
5) Professor Stony Brook University
6) Lumina Global C.E.O.

Jesus, am I depressed. All these people who share my name have excelled.
If you're Asian...don't Google your name. It's humbling.

Adopted Grandma

I learned a few days ago my grandmother on my Mom's side was adopted.
Crazy. She's the lady who lived into 90's. I met her once. She was loud and naggy, like my Mom. She came to the U.S. with my grandfather, who spoke zero English and chain-smoked Camels (his favorite brand). I'd sit in the kitchen quietly watching him smoke. He'd just keep smoking. Not too concern about the words making (fuck you, "Dances With Wolves"). He's also the one who sipped brandy and offered me some. Nice moment.

Grandma was the talker. She was energetic and loud. She has the same hoarsed voice our family shares. Maybe lung issue, who knows. It's wheezy. Upon meeting her, she demanded I cut my hair and gain some weight. "This the guy?" is all I could understand. The Taiwanese have this thing, where if they don't understand you they respond with "oh really." Americans have it in saying "right." I think it's a polite thing to do, considering how awful my language skills are. Most likely it's people's way of telling you to shut up.

Looking back now, it's pretty amazing...adopting a girl in any Asian culture is insane. The fact that she lived as long as she did (through war) is even crazier. I was fortunate to have met her. Though, I'm not really the sentimental type these days, I understand the importance of family (which seems to be a running theme in most projects I do).

I also don't pry too deeply into genealogy. My oldest sister loves that stuff. The stories you can pass down from generation to generation seems to be important to her. I understand, it sort of fills in the gaps of our own behavior.

This revelation of a grandmother who is adopted must be how some people feel when they learn they had a Native American in their family. Kinda' cool.

"The Lady From Shanghai" (1947)

There's two things wrong with the title...1) she 'aint no lady 2) she 'aint from Shanghai.

What more can I say about Orson Welles, except that he didn’t always look like a fat(ter) Captain Ahab. In fact, he was a svelte St. Nick in training in this movie.

Don’t let the exotic name fool you, none of it takes place in Shanghai. In 1947 (presumably when this was shot) it was still a far off land only rich people and industrialist would send their minions to trade. There are murmurs of this in this movie, but it means more as an identifier to sexy Rita Hayworth who plays Rosalie, a mysterious woman Michael O’Hara, an Irish dude played by Welles meet in the darkness of the park. He rescues her from muggers, only to accept a job…supposedly to help sail her husband’s ship. Whoops…didn’t tell the smitten Irish Welles she was married. Whoops. Definitely didn’t realize he is the insanely wealthy lawyer Bannister whose oily dealings have not only made him taking unnecessary trips to Acapulco, but hiring goons to watch his sex-sweaty wife.

Secrets, secrets, secrets. The alarming part of this movie is…the secrets are in the open. Everyone says what they want, but what they want may or may not be what they REALLY want. Such is a film noir. And she may or may not be in love with him. Or using him. But all we have to know is he’s taken by her, and has a dark past himself. I’m not sure if this is a commentary on the rich, or the powerful, but it’s a very biting look at deceptively happy people whose wealth does not buy them a night of rest. It surrounds them with paranoia.

I think it’s an underrated movie. I think this came out the time when Welles was going through some crazy shit with Rita Hayworth (to which they were married at the time). Also, it was teetering between an odd courtroom comedy, and thriller noir. Note to writers, this type of balance almost NEVER works. But I really don’t want to put this completely on director Welles’ shoulders. Apparently, the production shaved off over an hour of his cut. This could’ve buffered a lot of the inconsistencies of the movie. To the people who are movie sophisticates, none of this will be all that shocking or revelatory.

I loved it though. And there's something boner-inducing about a pretty girl in a sailor cap:

Daisy...

...Duke.
As I was just a dumb kid back then, I figure I need to show my respects to the one and only:

Wonder if she likes truck driving movies...

"Radio Days" (1987)

I don't like Woody Allen movies, because they feel like plays.
In this movie, we're taken back to the good ol' days of radio. Which I don't remember. Well sort of. I was at the tail end of black and white television. So, I guess I could compare it to that.

The point of this movie is that radio played a huge role in major events of Woody's life as a kid (in this movie played by Seth Green). It marked the times when he first kissed a girl, or his parents fights, or hearing about the war, or the death of a kid in a well. It was what families circled around after their days of tough living. And then we get an insight on who these people actually were. Unhappy, oddball gangsters or celebrities who could walk around among the public. Most have the face for radio, while others used the medium to tell stories. Our imagination being the biggest asset.

It's hard to gauge this movie now, since they're somewhat disjointed stories that overlap when need be. I do enjoy the nostalgia aspect. When performers really needed a skill set to function. And somehow I found myself missing the simpler days of just peeping in on buxom teachers I've had...to the tune of anything 1980's.

This is a nice love poem to the medium of radio. I doubt anyone will make one on the memories of their iPod.

Votin'

I hope you know by now my cynicism towards votin'.
I really envy those people who take this seriously. To go through life, taking precious time to have your voice heard through a punch card...I'm really awed by the faith you have in the system.

I do get the meaning though. America is democracy...er...was democracy. That ended for me when we bailed out car companies. Although I'm sure there's more to the story than realized, it seems in this case, it was...we choose when to honor democracy. Much like my feeling towards voting. There was a painted on button on kid's rides at ______ (fill in amusement park) that honked the horn, or turned on lights. Did it really do anything? Nope. But it's nice to know there's a button to push, I suppose. In the end, no one does anything for you or me. Especially you, since you're voting.

And I know the cornballs who tell me if I don't vote, that's just as bad as giving in to the evil doers. Or it's a vote for them. That's the attitude you are voting against (by the way). That attitude is "if you're not with us, you're with them." But no one can see this hypocrisy.

Okay, I get it, if I don't vote, I don't get a say. Fine. I'm giving up all those great moments of "say" Like...when I go to the DMV, or that really great firm stand of "say" I have with the IRS. I'd say, this faith-based power in numbers is actually pretty delusional. But, don't let me convince you otherwise. You're looking out for your best interest. And if that residual effect trickles down to me (which it never has) then you'd believe I were an ungrateful fuckface.

So which is it America? Remain silent and goof off on the rest of the nation or vote and get to talk mad smack about everything. You know what the funniest conversations are that I hear at the gym, well besides if they'd bang Halle Berry or Scarlett Johansson...actually which first. Or Chris Hemsworth (I AM in L.A.). It's when they go "I voted for that guy twice and he hasn't done shit for me." Seems the only one voicing their opinions are the numbnuts who are always dissatisfied about their candidate.

Trucker Movies

The Van Man, Ja 'Red and I took a peep at trucker movies this weekend.

It got me thinking...it's weird, between the years of 1978 to 1979 (sic) there were a massive influx of trucker movies.
"Breaker! Breaker!"
"High Ballin'"
"Coast to Coast"
"Convoy"
"Truck Stop Women"
"Big Rig Truckers"
"White Line Fever"
"Truck to Truckin' Truck Truck"

I made the last one up, but you get the idea. Also, what the fuck is up with using trucks to do the most menial of tasks? It's like a truck being the extension of a finger point. Need a window open? Honk honk! How about a beer cracked? Honk hooooooonk! Kids getting out of hand? Honk honk!!

By the way, 90% of the movies mentioned, Jerry Reed did the soundtrack. I guess the open road carries many a good story. Mostly about running your truck through things.

Directing Movies Sucks For EVERYONE

...everyone? Yes, dumb motherfucker, EVERYONE.

Whenever I meet anyone who wants to direct movies, I look at them like “where did the world do you wrong?”

The ones who enjoy it, should get a job at a S&M bondage house, because you just can’t process torture. Or you enjoy it. I like to think people who jump into it love storytelling. Hell, I do too. It’s not that part. That’s perfectly sane. It’s the one part where you start to make the fucking thing.

I was listening to Don Cheadle on Kevin Pollak’s Chat Show, and he talked about his time making the Miles Davis movie (in my hometown of Cincinnati). It kicked him hard what it meant to deal with a low budget movie. He explains that as an actor, you just think things happen. When the logistics kick in, you realize the tidal wave of self-doubt, compromise and constant questioning answering that comes with moving an army over a hill. His take (as told to him by his agent)…making movies is a plane you know is going to crash land, just realize how many parts are left on the plane when it comes down, and hopefully enough people survive. That’s coming to terms with a very awful event and celebrating if survival is the ultimate goal. Why do you think cast and crew wrap parties are so heavy in booze? Cheadle proceeds to tell the story of his first rough cut of the movie. Where he just lost it. No coverage, nothing worked (in his mind), just disaster. This was cut BEFORE the movie even stopped shooting. The next day, he laid in bed, unable to move. Angry and upset that he made something he felt was a disaster. You can tell people they will love their dailies and HATE HATE HATE their rough cut, but it isn't until you sit in a dark room by yourself, where you REALLY feel it. It's awful. I'm sure with years of experience, the pain dwindles, but still...it's awful feeling.

The other thing mentioned in the podcast is Woody Allen’s take. Once a movie is a “Go” start by backing up the dump truck of compromise. Whatever is in your brain cannot fully be realized on screen. It can and it can’t. Sometimes it’s better, most of the times it’s worst. Because you lack the time, equipment, talent, location, fill in the blank here, because that ALL comes into play. The ones who’ve been doing it this long have the experience to move on with the catastrophic event of telling a story. From the inside out, we’re usually the ones who are too dumb to stay down. The more hilarious part of this is that we’re usually celebrated if something that resembles a plane ends up at the terminal. Our beat up…on fire…missing wheel plane for the world to look at, and stand in awe of how we managed to walk away.

Did I ever mention the time, on my first movie on film school? The stupid fucking actor brought his dog and proceeded to be combative to every suggestion I made. My roommate, at the time, had to drag me to the set the next day, because I had to finish it. It was ugly. Did I mention we shot it in my apartment?

This is the glitz and glamour of making movies.

Film School Sham

Film school is a sham.

Did I ever say that? Because I think it bears repeating.

The fact there is a New York Film Academy in Los Angeles and is accredited by the U.S. Gov’t proves what a scam it is. Once advertised in cinematography magazines (next to the sea monkeys) is now a place some foreign kid whose parents have a ton of money can send them there so that they don’t burn down their castle/mansion/plantation. Yes, it fleeces foreigners, so…the government’s cool with them. By default, I’m okay with them too.

It dawned on me as I was standing in line at Fotokem, a couple of pretentious dickhead film students from NYFA. NOT to be confused with New York University’s film program (I’m sure they HATE themselves for ever naming themselves New York now).There is no affiliation. But understand how stupid movie execs can be to confuse them. Much like Asylum movies that ape popular titles. For instance when “The Hateful Eight” came out a typical Asylum pic would be called “Bounty Hunter Massacre” with the same font and everything. Dumb people at RedBox will confuse the two. I know one co-worker of mine thought “Battle for L.A.” was the same movie as “Battle: Los Angeles” What a dum-dum.

I’ve said this until my head almost exploded, you can learn the practical nuts and bolts of filmmaking in…three days (two if you read a book). It’s really intuitive to tell visual stories. To do it well takes a lifetime. You will never perfect it. At this point, I’m led to believe most film schools extend film history lesson past the three initial days. The whys and how you study movies. Shit, you can do that on your own. IF you are serious. If you watch movies simply for entertainment, you’re screwed. Movies are a formula despite what artsy people say (me). If you watch movies long and enough and desperate to make them, it will really come to you pretty quick. It took me forever, and a ton of money to get through my concrete brain the basics. In a sense, film school just delayed my learning. For which I am eternally grateful. To others…a complete waste of time. Actually, I would put that in the majority. My faults, shouldn’t be foisted on younger more sophisticated minds.

The biggest issue these days are movies aren’t about experiences anymore. Every once in a while, one will pop out and grab Hollyweird by the nuts. The reason: it’s not derivative of other movies. The people who make movies today aren’t living life, they’re stealing from other movies. We grew up with movie language and can’t shake it. While it’s true people like Coppola, Scorsese, Altman and so forth rode on the coat tails of their predecessors, they also eventually told stories more personal. Ones that were anchored in their living. Their style wasn’t derivative of movies they’ve seen. Scorsese was influenced by all genres and thus, even as a cinephile, was able to ride the line between teacher and maker.

Film school makes the mistake of teaching by movies, rather than teaching by life. What would be the best teaching tool…everyday, give people a one page of what they did in their life. Boil down everything to one page. For instance: I drove out to the gym today, rode a stationary bike and ate chicken strips at Popeyes.

THIS to me has more potential than “let’s dissect why Kurosawa decided to tell this story from three points of view.” In movies, we copy…but we copy bad. Let’s copy, but…make sure your own life plays some part in it. And it doesn’t happen in film school.

Learn by doing. Make mistakes. Make them big (if you have that in you). This isn't a place for shy introverts.

Dancin' In the Moonlight

I've become that dude who sings with the music in some 99 cent store.
I'm convinced that at a certain age, you do this because no one else listens to you (as a man anyway), so this gets you back to a time when you can live in nostalgia.

You can easily add dance moves skipping from aisle to aisle. Take a cucumber and use as microphone. From what I've seen from movies, people will join in. That flash mob thing.
It would be a great world, wouldn't it?

Apple Encryption Fiasco

So those filthy animals in San Bernardino who murdered their office pals have iPhones that are encrypted. And, the Feds don't want try too many things before they lose the information forever. But now...Apple doesn't want to do that because they would jeopardize their policy of security. And they sent out an email..."they" meaning Tim Cook CEO of Apple:
"At stake is the data security of hundreds of millions of law-abiding people and setting a dangerous precedent that threatens everyone’s civil liberties.”
The question and answer posting acknowledges that it is technically possible for Apple to do what the judge ordered, but that it’s “something we believe is too dangerous to do.”

Hey assholes, the fact that they used YOUR shitty product is already a black eye to your company. Fuck your iPhone. I don't own one. So your stance isn't all that altruistic. It's so that more people buy your product. What was Apple's stance when these people were gunned down? That, they could prevent other attacks or communications with these mass shooters if they cooperated. When has national security/justice not trumped money? Or are we this obvious now. What you're saying is using this platform to show how amazing your product is. Well, that message is sent. Good for you. I couldn't sleep well knowing I made my money from these two morons who preferred iPhones to carry out their terrorist activities.

I would say, as Obama has chimed in, sometimes doing the right thing means more than doing the right for you thing. Don't hide behind some constitutional right that you believe exists in all Americans. Apparently, these two weren't supporters, yet Apple defends their supposed rights. That's garbage. I hope the victims of this tragedy speak out against Apple and their willingness to harbor terrorist communication (yes, I realize how absurd this is...but then again, so is their stance on public safety over commerce).

Everyone Thinks They're Winning If They're Against Trump

So much for that "ignore the bully" shit your Ma told you. They'll go away. And so forth. The more you morons post against Trump, the more press he gets. Shit, even this little rant probably reaches a few people. I'm not saying vote for or against, I just know these little stunts people pull to get people to hate Trump makes him more in the news. FREE advertisement. People who hate Trump and blare it out are the dumbest people on the planet.

Okay, here's why. You ever have a girlfriend who dumped you for another guy, and then when you talked shit about the other guy what the FUCK did that bitch do?
Give up.
Defend the dumb fucking guy.
THAT'S the problem with you people who do that. The more you criticize, the more his fans double down. That's human nature. They love to love him. I know, it's fucking weird, and aggravating. So for women who hate them, this is what it feels like when you do this to guys.

So what's the solution, you say?
Give him enough rope to hang himself. DO NOT play his games. They're reckless and comically stupid. You won't win going down to his level. You certainly won't win if Hilary is your candidate. She's carries too much baggage. Go for Bernie.

That said...enjoy the circus you've all created. This is getting dumber and dumber. And to think you all still believe it makes a difference.

The Curmudgeon

Don't you wish you can tell people off?
I do.
Which is funny considering how many people think I'm joking.
I constantly tell people to go fuck themselves here. Do I mean that figuratively...nope. Literally.
Why?
I have no idea, other than perhaps I'm losing my mind. Or I get no respect (thanks Rodney).
But I'd rather do that than say...deal with people who are patronizing cock suckers.

Not that I have any animosity towards anyone. Just that...it's aggravating to not be able to do things I want to do. Held in some type of limbo/purgatory. Being spoken down to. Ignored. Perhaps it's the grumpiness of being older. Most likely. It sucks that every small thing does get on my nerves. I'm not necessarily sure walking on eggshells is the answer either.

I just feel I may need to move on with life. Do more things. So bored. Boredom equates to finding ways to piss people off. I never thought I'd be that old guy who wags his finger at people and screams expletives to be heard. While the rest of the world just shakes their head in pity. In some ways, I think of the guys who did have clout in Hollywood, and realize most people weren't nuts, they just wanted to be heard.

Don't Be Cookie Cutter

What's been driving me nuts these days...fucking artist being weird to break some mold. There's no meaning to their abstraction, only that they are content with weird.

The one thing you must constantly battle in this town, is not be cookie cutter. Not go against the grain, simply to go against the grain, but lately assholes have been wanting everything to be the same. The math is pretty clear, the more repetitive it is, the more it's a trend. And people don't even realize they do it. Social media destroys one's individuality, since it causes a feeling of abandonment if you choose to voice your own opinion. We're too dumb to realize that's what we're sliding into. Yes, I realize you can be...just conform to what everyone else likes because then you're labeled a contrarian. Don't be that person. Stand up for what you in your heart believe is good. Stop listening to the music that is produced today for teens, because you will never be hip in their eyes. The point is...to allow yourself back the individuality. Unfortunately, the more people you allow into your world, the worst it gets. You now have to placate two families instead of one. And their relatives. And their friends. You're fucked.

Social media, what was deemed an opportunity to bond with far away friends, families and lost connections, seems to be driving a larger wedge into our lives. The solution is to turn if off, and spend some quiet time, just to reflect on your life. I think that's why I write in this blog. I prefer to not regurgitate television shows, and...well...live.

We don't have that much time on this Earth. Simply put, experiences not behind a monitor is much more enriching that being hooked up to electronics. That's what they do when you're unable to function anymore as a person on their death bed. Then someone else will have to pull the plug. Eventually.

Drying Up From The Sauce

The first few months I stopped drinking, one of the worst feelings I had was losing my history. Not that I was considering all the party days (and lonely drinking moments) as history. But memories. Memories equates to sadness. People think memories are good. They elicit moments of good, but for the most part, most people tend to remember things they can’t fix. Failed relationships, money issues, loneliness. Regret.

It seems the people who can drink and remember good times, function to this day as drinkers, and I envy them. But there is a distinction between drinking to lift up the spirits and drinking to force yourself into more pleasant memories. In my day, drinking was meant to get me motivated to accomplish things. It beats back intuition because I think it goes to the core of your instinct. The minute you sober up, your intellect takes over. Which is why a lot of times it’s believed you are most creative inebriated.

Yes and no, maybe. It’s hard for me to determine. I enjoyed getting drunk and doing stupid shit. Some of those lapsed brain cells tapped into the times when I was the most happiest. But, I HAD to believe that was just an anchor. Continuing to review the past is comforting, but it doesn’t progress you forward. SO many people don’t mind this “purgatory” because it is safe. The world sucks and gets worse every time you hear bad things happening. I think it’s funny the more internet interaction we have the more we’ve been convincing ourselves the awful nature of humanity. While you can simply turn off the world and disappear as one of my sister has, or keep being reminded that we’re instinctual angry animals in cages.

A lot of people will tell you that drinking dulls and hides the true meaning of your unhappiness. The fact that we are all on different levels of unhappiness until we die makes us more unhappy. It was a no-brainer that inebriation was the solution. I think at a certain point people do become content with living in the fray without believing there is more to life. I completely understand because I was so much more happier dosing myself to sleep and feeling the past, then sober and looking at the future. But…it’s better this way. I’m not trying to convince myself, because the proof is in the pudding. I’m able to function and do projects. In a drunken state, a lot of it would be garbage. In this state, I find myself with more time to do things (though the first year of dry-dom, was a ton of immobility, yes it sucks that bad). And it’s a relief to know substances don’t control me. It is actually liberating to know you can move forth without being in a fog. But, I also miss those memories…it feels far away and sometimes frustrating I can’t sense them anymore.

Rita Hayworth's Worth

Rita Hayworth (October 17, 1918-May 14, 1987)

The story of Rita Hayworth is probably more common in movie stardom than the stories of stars who made it out of Hollywood in one piece (this is facetious, no one leaves without scars). Consider that she was a sex symbol, made one memorable movie (“Gilda”) and referenced in another (“Shawshank Redemption”) then died of Alzheimer’s in her Beverly Hills home at 68 years old.

Throughout her life, she married 4 times, all a bust, since they wanted Rita Hayworth in movies not Marguerite Casano, her real name. I wouldn’t necessarily put Hollywood completely at fault for her decline, but it’s not beyond logic that this town isn’t safe haven for crazies. Or maybe…it draws crazies like a moth to light.

Though her name is famous, it’s odd that I’ve not seen a movie of hers. I think I tried watching “Gilda” one time, but got bored. Oh wait, I think I remember seeing a movie called “Separate Tables” back in college. The director Delbert Mann spoke about Rita Hayworth. How she was having mental issues in the middle of the night. How she wanted him to come over to watch after her. And how Mann’s wife emphatically forbade him to go over to Rita Hayworth’s home…in the middle of the night. Ha!

These stories do make me sad though. Tragic in that many women today would trade all they have for that fame, some are attempting it now. But most don’t realize the constant pain endured by people who live by image. I find I’m slouching more, my hair thinning out, gut protruding a bit, bad teeth, tired eyes…to be reminded of my younger self would send me into a tailspin. I think most would chalk it up to “the price of fame.” For me, I pity those who are convinced this would make them happy.

You see this a lot in professional sports as well. Many NFL players go back to their alma maters, because there they are returning heroes. In the pros, they’re paid dancing bears. College was a time when they played with grit and hope. Playing for a paycheck means only that it pays bills. When in college, you’re catered to. In pros, you are paid (for the stars) massive amounts to perform. The pressure garners no sympathy from the fans. I don’t think the same for Rita Hayworth either. You could say, she could’ve quit and done anything else in life. But I would argue, the longer you are in the Hollywood system, the less you are capable of anything else.

Orson Welles Was A Dick

I've reading a book about Orson Welles. It's an interview transcription documenting everything said at lunches by another director.

If you ever decide you want the inside scoop on celebrities and how they talk when they think no onw is watching or listening. It's this book. I prefer not to reveal the book here, since it seems some people who believe/want to be in the business may not want to be soured so quickly.

But as far as I've read, Orson Welles hated everyone. As a staunch liberal, it's weird to hear his disgust for Jews and the Irish. He became a bitter, angry insulting person who was once labeled a "boy genius" presumably because of "Citizen Kane." He lashes out at everyone he's ever dealt with in Hollywood. And, at the end of his life, was resigned to begging actors to be in his movies. It's Shakespearean in the sense that who you see up, may be the same people you see down. And either view (in Hollywood terms) sucks.

It's a strange feeling as I'm reading it, the common cynicism I feel for movie making. Not that I have ever earned the success he has, but I'm a little, de-mystified that someone who could've/should've/would've embraced the society of filmmaking, was so ostracized and marginalized as some eccentric fat nut. I'm certain he felt the constant outsider. And his views on people say....like how incompetent Jimmy Stewart was, or how much he thought actors were stupid. The better ones were the most dumb. He just seemed he hated the whole thing. All for one thing...making movies.

He LOVED the process, hated the product. He hated everything we (dopes) cherished. He considered Hitchcock movies dull and dumb and derivative (what we can agree on). HATED "Casablanca" as throwing fish to the seals. And it's hard to dispute that his take on the modern day movies have nothing to do with story, but spectacle. Another thought that I've also entertained.

It's not hard to see, he...as director, writer, producer and actor had insight to the machine that overtook Hollywood. Mostly (as I find this to be the most accurate), his disgust for lemmings. The cowardly system to which favors are only given when one gives back. Desperate to return to making movies, it seemed more that he was infected with the sense of grandeur that the rest of the town, if not world, should bend to. Of course, that wasn't meant to be. He was that massively obese man who died at his typewriter.

Crash In Van Nuys

I'm not sure that Hungarian mechanic who believed I lived a charmed life is completely batty.
This morning, after waking up miserable, and off kilter (due to the fact that I was going into work later) I had the option of going to the L.A. Fitness on Sepulveda or just go to my usual one in Universal City.

THAT gym is crowded in morning, and I had to pick up my film from Fotokem in Burbank anyway. And I was going to get there when the doors opened. At 6AM. Which is when the massive 5 car crash occurred that killed one person.

Not to say I would've been that one person killed, but to sidestep any accident, as mangled as what it looked like, I am glad I chose the latter. NOW, that being said, SLOW THE FUCKING FUCK DOWN you goddamn assholes. I've seen so many people do this at 5AM. In really nice cars. Who the fuck are you, and why? I think Eastern Euros or Russians. These fucking cocksuckers love buzzing by people. I've no idea why. Death is death. Maybe life is less valuable in the cold block.

So slow your ass down. Or end up like that kid splattered on a overpass sign off the 5 freeway.

Was "Rain Man" Really Best Picture Of 1988?

"Working Girl"

"Dangerous Liasons"

"Mississippi Burning"

"The Accidental Tourist"

Geena Fuckin Davis won for "The Accidental Tourist" this year. Blagh. That movie is stupid.

I watched "Rain Man" repeatedly when it hit videotape because the journey begins in Cincinnati. In fact, Charlie Babbit’s home address is a house I pass whenever I drove to high school. I remember this movie vividly, but odd…I can no longer feel the feeling I felt when first saw it. It’s a coming of age movie, sort of speak. As Charlie (played brilliantly by Tom Cruise, who was unfairly snubbed for his performance in this flick) is learning to be a human.

Though I love this movie. Was it really a Best Picture? Hard to say. I think so, for the simple fact of the longevity of its message. The unfortunate thing is, Dusty Hoffman’s retard routine. I am certain he probably wouldn’t be able to watch this movie again. In perspective to 1988 to our time, roughly 30 years prior, Best Picture winner was Billy Wilder’s “The Apartment.” Which, I think was the last comedy to win that award. Though listed somewhat a comedy, it is a dark movie.

What I’m getting at is, the politics of today’s Oscar for Best Picture has been skewed to box office. I would say, that if really the movies were based on merit alone there wouldn’t be any of the nominated for Best Picture this year. “Mad Max: Fury Road” for Best Picture? You’ve got to be kidding. My feeling has been/always will be Best Picture should reflect a long reaching universal story (which although glad “Silence of The Lambs” won that year, I find it pretty silly now).

It is quite strange to me, that the winners this year appeared more to be the will of trend, rather than true common sense storytelling. The message to a Best Picture should be having the core story exist through time. “Birdman” has already worn out its welcome. “Shakespeare In Love” has been a long running joke. Do you even remember “American Beauty” won? To put today’s, or even the last decade of movies compared to “Terms of Endearment” “The Godfather”(s), or “Gone With The Wind” makes me hate this society even more.

In this realm, “Rain Man” is fucking “Lawrence of Arabia” with a retard.

The Ever Painful Student Loans

Graduate school isn't cheap. I imagine most of us filmmakers thought the same thing when we graduated. "Wait till they get a load of my talent. Money will be raining on me." I guess for the very few that are determined...yippee! For the rest of us aimless lots straight out of school, we were fucked from the word "go." Unless you have parents willing to support it (and could). Even rich kids fizzle out. The new world today probably is easier now. Trade in a six-figure education to make a feature you can turn and sell to streaming site. People are looking for material.

My very ingenious friend Bennie did that. He turned around a small budgeted films and sold them at conventions and made a tidy profit. To make his next project. I really like this system because...it means you aren't a slave to the "studios." When the big three (alright I'll throw in MGM), brought up gates, they became a country club, exclusive to only..the insiders. There are exceptions, which sort of flew under the radar. But few and far between. It's still this club, despite the fact that most of us can do without them.

Anyway, the dreams of making dough to pay off the loans were sidetracked by life. When you leave graduate program, you don't start at educated rate for anything you do. I feel more sorry for resident physicians. They doubled the education, which means double the debt. Fuck, I'd give anyone who finishes med school FREE everything. We have to encourage more doctors. Because we'd be fucked without them (not the doctors I've had so far, but...you get the idea). Maybe I should crusade to find free money to any and all doctors (dentists included). I think this would lower the medical bills. Which I suspect is one of the biggest reasons people go into bankruptcy. Medical bills are painful to people who aren't insured. I feel like we've put the cart before the horse. Lower doctor's student loans, they won't charge as much (in private practice). Instead of requiring citizens to get insurance.

But, I've now got a wad I have to give to the loan peeps. Sucks, since now I have to write off this amount every month with nothing to show for it. But my patriotic duty to line the pockets of the bankers who got bailed out of the housing market. See how great that works?

Erin Andrews: The $55 Million Dollar Peep Show

She most likely never see that money. Or they'll just reduce it to something manageable. Since Marriot has deep-ish pockets.

Not that she was victimized for the intrusion. As a celeb hanging in her hotel in Nashville, you gotta' wonder what the fuck she was doing just air drying in the room itself. Call me modest, but I hate just dangling in any open room. I think because I have this odd fear my junk could be caught in something bad. Like an air conditioner unit or something. I guess that wouldn't be a problem for Andrews. But whatever, the case was because these assholes at the front counter told the stalker which room she was in. THEN gave him the room next to hers. The guy didn't bust out a glory hole or anything like that, but he did post the video and pics of her. Which...quite honestly, she's a pretty lady, but there are better bodies on any of the "-Tubes" porn channels. AND you get to see deeper snatch.

Andrews doesn't even look like a good lay. She looks pissed. Or determined. Like Kelly Preston fucking Tom Cruise in "Jerry Maguire." Mechanical and very...athletic. But with zero warmth (yeah, call me a homo, whatever).

Incidentally, attorney mouthpiece, Mark "celeb-tard" Geragos underestimated the value of this case, citing it closer to $3 million. That would make him a terrible lawyer.

Marriott should've settled, I guess. Or maybe they tried but she wouldn't have it. Good gamble.

*I'm afraid to post photos of E. Andrews, since she may sue for the two nickels I possess.