When I asked my college girlfriend one time, what it was about me that she loved so much she simply said "you make me feel safe."
I didn't understand it then. But I understand now. The concept is of being "home."
The abstract thought is this...everyone is constantly searching to be home. Consider it, when you see your friends who are miserable, what is it that is lacking. That they are discontent where they are in life. No one listens to them. They don't get you. Want to know why? They will never get your point. Whatever that may be. And this adds to your idea that the world is cold and miserable. It's not "home."
The idea of home isn't a physical place. It's an emotional one. One that is at the core of all our needs. And one, regardless of where you are, you have to want to feel. It's a comfortable place that you are at ease. And at the very center of it all is warmth.
The word warmth itself makes you move in closer. Makes you feel understood on all levels. This lacks in our social media world, because everyone is angry, bitter and kept at arms length. The authentic person understands they lack a lot in life. Our secrets and guard constantly down. With a person who instills the concept of home to you, you are at ease. At ease doesn't always mean comfortable. Volatile people, specifically in Hollywood, live in chaos and turmoil. They've been battered bruised and left for dead, and if they survive tend to inflict the same to others. It's a disease to which a lot of people fall to.
Because ease, warmth and the concept of home is too foreign to them. They shun it. They want the reality to be different.
Love is close to home. It means you are accepted and felt heard. Many people think they listen, they're really terrible at it. People who think they listen only believe they hear what you say and discount it. That's a large number. The ones who really care, process, understand and validate.
That doesn't mean they need to agree with every point. In fact, that's how you know they aren't listening. Because if you hear, you add a different perspective.
If you are in misery, and have many deep thoughts about life, the single most helpful thing to do is to ask more questions then talk. To me, this is much more welcoming than babbling thoughts. This concept of home is what everyone strives for. We want to feel safe. This is the sense we will seek, and if found, will feel that life is fulfilled and fulfilling.
Seek out your "home."
Sunday, October 27, 2019
Wednesday, October 23, 2019
Sleeping Single
Buddy had his hands at 2 and 10 cautiously transporting the newest winner of the county short story contest, his 15 year old daughter Ida Mae. Though the trophy was small and had a plastic feel, Ida was mesmerized by its painted gold flecks and beaming with pride that something represented her craft.
In competition with the sleepy farming counties of 100 young writers, it was still a honor to be chosen by the local teachers. Though most weren't big city learned, they enjoyed Ida's natural wit and observational tales of growing up rural and regarded her as someone who was meant for something bigger.
Buddy always wondered how Ida got into creative endeavors. Her Mother, Tula, was a church organist who said very little. Sundays were solemn moments of prayer. A Mennonite convert who chose to opt out of simple living for a dishwasher and perhaps a hi-fi stereo. She loved her Barbara Mandrell albums.
"Thinking 'bout college, Ida?"
Ida looked up to her father, and smiled. The thought had not crossed her mind as she knew his life as a tractor repairman didn't exactly put them in a college sensibility.
"I dunno, pa. I guess."
"You should go. You've a very good brain, and wouldn't want it to go to waste."
It was high praise from a man who was typically stoic. And seemed to unnerve Ida that he would be so forthright with his compliments.
"Thanks, pa.
"'Aint no business in this shitburgh town that could get you to where you need to get. I think you should study to tell stories too."
It really threw her off this time. There was no real practical sense of telling tales from a man who worked with his hands. Hell, even shown her how to take apart a distributor cap.
Buddy fiddled with his John Deere cap, smiled at her "all them kids didn't have what you had, baby." Maybe he was building her confidence, but Ida blushed regardless.
"I just got lucky is all."
Buddy made a sudden turn towards the side of the road and jammed it into park.
"Don't EVER sell yourself short. All them kids' folks would've been damn near plastering banners about them. Damn proud of you. That wasn't luck. That was you." His face had gotten as red as the devil.
Ida reeled back, shocked at the sudden outburst. She was speechless. A lot of heavy kind words delivered aggressively yet seemed to want to deliver a point. Never had she heard these things from anyone. Not even from her Mother. Maybe it was because Buddy never saw what thoughts shared between people could mean. That his own drunken abusive Father would rather hit first and ask questions later. That he was built to toil in hot sun while collecting a menial paycheck to get by. It seemed her own Father understood what he had spent his efforts on and it was her success that he could hang his cap on.
The beaten Oldsmobile sputtered down the backroad in silence and disappeared over the next hill
The police report would read different. The account typically rarely includes the lead up to what actually occurs. It's just the facts. And the facts were, that Buddy had gotten home that night, and after a dinner of meatloaf and biscuits, took his Stoeger double barrel shotgun and killed his wife. Then he turned it on himself.
Ida had gone to sleep early that night. Mandrell's "Sleeping Single In A Double Bed" was still playing when she was awaken by the first shot. She'd raced down to see her Father had turned the barrel towards himself. Ida would later write that he was still wearing his John Deere cap. At the dinner table. A no-no in Mom's world. And something that she would tell therapist decades later, he had winked at her before pulling the trigger.
In her 40's now, Ida sits at the dinner table in the suburbs in Ohio. Her house the biggest on the block. A framed photo of the cover of her best-selling collection of short stories hangs behind her husband, who at this moment shovels meatloaf into his mouth from bone china, reading something off his smart phone. Her two daughters playfully bicker. A gentle tune plays throughout the house.
Ida smiles to herself. Content at life. "Alexa, play Barbara Mandrell"
"Sleeping Single In A Double Bed" kicks in. "Mom! I hate country music" one of her daughters whines.
Her husband looks up at her...did he just see her wink?
In competition with the sleepy farming counties of 100 young writers, it was still a honor to be chosen by the local teachers. Though most weren't big city learned, they enjoyed Ida's natural wit and observational tales of growing up rural and regarded her as someone who was meant for something bigger.
Buddy always wondered how Ida got into creative endeavors. Her Mother, Tula, was a church organist who said very little. Sundays were solemn moments of prayer. A Mennonite convert who chose to opt out of simple living for a dishwasher and perhaps a hi-fi stereo. She loved her Barbara Mandrell albums.
"Thinking 'bout college, Ida?"
Ida looked up to her father, and smiled. The thought had not crossed her mind as she knew his life as a tractor repairman didn't exactly put them in a college sensibility.
"I dunno, pa. I guess."
"You should go. You've a very good brain, and wouldn't want it to go to waste."
It was high praise from a man who was typically stoic. And seemed to unnerve Ida that he would be so forthright with his compliments.
"Thanks, pa.
"'Aint no business in this shitburgh town that could get you to where you need to get. I think you should study to tell stories too."
It really threw her off this time. There was no real practical sense of telling tales from a man who worked with his hands. Hell, even shown her how to take apart a distributor cap.
Buddy fiddled with his John Deere cap, smiled at her "all them kids didn't have what you had, baby." Maybe he was building her confidence, but Ida blushed regardless.
"I just got lucky is all."
Buddy made a sudden turn towards the side of the road and jammed it into park.
"Don't EVER sell yourself short. All them kids' folks would've been damn near plastering banners about them. Damn proud of you. That wasn't luck. That was you." His face had gotten as red as the devil.
Ida reeled back, shocked at the sudden outburst. She was speechless. A lot of heavy kind words delivered aggressively yet seemed to want to deliver a point. Never had she heard these things from anyone. Not even from her Mother. Maybe it was because Buddy never saw what thoughts shared between people could mean. That his own drunken abusive Father would rather hit first and ask questions later. That he was built to toil in hot sun while collecting a menial paycheck to get by. It seemed her own Father understood what he had spent his efforts on and it was her success that he could hang his cap on.
The beaten Oldsmobile sputtered down the backroad in silence and disappeared over the next hill
The police report would read different. The account typically rarely includes the lead up to what actually occurs. It's just the facts. And the facts were, that Buddy had gotten home that night, and after a dinner of meatloaf and biscuits, took his Stoeger double barrel shotgun and killed his wife. Then he turned it on himself.
Ida had gone to sleep early that night. Mandrell's "Sleeping Single In A Double Bed" was still playing when she was awaken by the first shot. She'd raced down to see her Father had turned the barrel towards himself. Ida would later write that he was still wearing his John Deere cap. At the dinner table. A no-no in Mom's world. And something that she would tell therapist decades later, he had winked at her before pulling the trigger.
In her 40's now, Ida sits at the dinner table in the suburbs in Ohio. Her house the biggest on the block. A framed photo of the cover of her best-selling collection of short stories hangs behind her husband, who at this moment shovels meatloaf into his mouth from bone china, reading something off his smart phone. Her two daughters playfully bicker. A gentle tune plays throughout the house.
Ida smiles to herself. Content at life. "Alexa, play Barbara Mandrell"
"Sleeping Single In A Double Bed" kicks in. "Mom! I hate country music" one of her daughters whines.
Her husband looks up at her...did he just see her wink?
Monday, October 21, 2019
Hollywood Pre-Millenium
For those of you who were not in Hollywood in 1998, I pity you. This was about the last year a lot of fun was to be had. And in the darkness of the Hollywood we knew from the yesteryear.
The Brown Derby was still around, as was The Ambassador Hotel. When you walked on Hollywood boulevard, there were gift shops of movie posters, scripts and books. There was a theater similar to the New Beverly that would play two movies for $5.00. That was where I saw "The People Vs. Larry Flynt" on film, which was surreal because in the film Woody and Courtney Love walked right by the theater we were watching it. My first experience with a surreal life.
There was so much darkness back then. It almost seems Stone Aged. There was a free clinic within my apartment on Van Ness. Little did I know just up the hill was Beechwood Canyons, where a lot of the nicer houses were. You had to cross Franklin Boulevard. And from my dank apartment, you could see the Hollywood sign (mocking me).
The place was beautiful in its dreary way. At the time, smog was still AWFUL. I woke up in a grey brown haze. And my lungs filled with crap. Smoked cigarettes back then too.
The other thing was that the internet wasn't what it was today. So to entertain ourselves, we played Sony Playstation or went to a diner/coffeeshop to write. I truly miss those days (sans smog).
Today, Hollywood is glass and marble. Clean everywhere but down below on the streets. The rebuild of Hollywood is staggering. Out with the old, in with the new. And everyone who owned property back then seems happy to see to the highest bidder. It is a shame, but wholly necessary as it's become sickening to live here. It's too much. And it will likely get worse.
I'm not sure what their new plans are. Seems we are the cockroaches that the city of Los Angeles wants to shine a light on (never mind they've already have a plan for the homeless). To me, I rarely lay on the couch thinking about the stories of struggle anymore. Though, I loved the bohemian life it was. A bed in the middle of the living room that was connected to the kitchen with brown shag carpet isn't appealing as it use to be. But the new people coming into town most likely will relish that they made it there and have a place to stay and make their run at being a star. Even at it's wettest nastiest basement mold dwelling. That's exciting.
That's what I miss about Hollywood.
The Brown Derby was still around, as was The Ambassador Hotel. When you walked on Hollywood boulevard, there were gift shops of movie posters, scripts and books. There was a theater similar to the New Beverly that would play two movies for $5.00. That was where I saw "The People Vs. Larry Flynt" on film, which was surreal because in the film Woody and Courtney Love walked right by the theater we were watching it. My first experience with a surreal life.
There was so much darkness back then. It almost seems Stone Aged. There was a free clinic within my apartment on Van Ness. Little did I know just up the hill was Beechwood Canyons, where a lot of the nicer houses were. You had to cross Franklin Boulevard. And from my dank apartment, you could see the Hollywood sign (mocking me).
The place was beautiful in its dreary way. At the time, smog was still AWFUL. I woke up in a grey brown haze. And my lungs filled with crap. Smoked cigarettes back then too.
The other thing was that the internet wasn't what it was today. So to entertain ourselves, we played Sony Playstation or went to a diner/coffeeshop to write. I truly miss those days (sans smog).
Today, Hollywood is glass and marble. Clean everywhere but down below on the streets. The rebuild of Hollywood is staggering. Out with the old, in with the new. And everyone who owned property back then seems happy to see to the highest bidder. It is a shame, but wholly necessary as it's become sickening to live here. It's too much. And it will likely get worse.
I'm not sure what their new plans are. Seems we are the cockroaches that the city of Los Angeles wants to shine a light on (never mind they've already have a plan for the homeless). To me, I rarely lay on the couch thinking about the stories of struggle anymore. Though, I loved the bohemian life it was. A bed in the middle of the living room that was connected to the kitchen with brown shag carpet isn't appealing as it use to be. But the new people coming into town most likely will relish that they made it there and have a place to stay and make their run at being a star. Even at it's wettest nastiest basement mold dwelling. That's exciting.
That's what I miss about Hollywood.
Sunday, October 20, 2019
Scorsese And Coppola Think Superhero Movies Aren't Cinema
They're right. It's not cinema. They're movies.
Nope.
Some might argue you get dumber.
To me, superhero movies are...no eating themselves. They break down the fourth wall to address the audiences' savvy towards...other superhero movies. Also, extending a franchise is probably the most despicable part. They know they'll be making 30 of them, so you know who will survive or not. There are no elements of story that that are worth telling.
Life is absolutely fascinating if you observe it. And the comic book movie doesn't observe life. It takes a core sensibility of our own morals and attempt to shoe-horn value.
Only America sees film as commerce. Other cultures see them as art.
"When Martin Scorsese says that the Marvel pictures are not cinema, he's right because we expect to learn something from cinema, we expect to gain something, some enlightenment, some knowledge, some inspiration.
"I don't know that anyone gets anything out of seeing the same movie over and over again," the 80-year-old filmmaker said.
"Martin was kind when he said it's not cinema. He didn't say it's despicable, which I just say it is."
Do you learn much from movies?Nope.
Some might argue you get dumber.
To me, superhero movies are...no eating themselves. They break down the fourth wall to address the audiences' savvy towards...other superhero movies. Also, extending a franchise is probably the most despicable part. They know they'll be making 30 of them, so you know who will survive or not. There are no elements of story that that are worth telling.
Life is absolutely fascinating if you observe it. And the comic book movie doesn't observe life. It takes a core sensibility of our own morals and attempt to shoe-horn value.
Only America sees film as commerce. Other cultures see them as art.
Saturday, October 19, 2019
"The Joker" (2019)
I'm not gonna go into a real review of this movie, other than to say, it's not as dark as people say it is. And it's clearly an exceptional portrayal by Joachin Phoenix.
It addresses things that I've been saying for a long time. Everyone is talking and no one is listening.
In short, we lack empathy, and yet, we consider HIM the psycho.
Take the comic book aspect from this movie and it still hits on some really true thoughts. An intellectual dissection of HOW a disgruntled mentally ill person could cause chaos. In this case, sometimes it spirals to that point.
What is also apparent is our anger. Angry about everything. Even anger about not being angry. With the world we have created now, everyone with a dissenting opinion has a voice. These voices are sometimes destructive. A simple look at social media shows how horrible we can be towards others. And yet, we have no clue what buttons we are pushing and whom we are pushing. There are a lot of Jokers out there. Too scary to think about. But they also come in a specific form. Male between the ages of 18-35, typically Caucasian or Asian. Pent up anger at society. Then the fuel of media supporting all those beliefs we don't believe or are accused of. The loner male is typically accused of everything and can't get some hot babe adds to the fuel of what was sold to them. Be smart, funny and intelligent and you get hot sex. Wrong. As the media portrays it, you're still a rapist. The blowback of these accusations fall on deaf ears. Since the mob has settled on you being the enemy. This adds even more fuel. Then the ads infiltrate our psyche. There is an agenda pushed by the "woke" crowd that requires that you fall in step with whatever they think society should be. It's not. Rich people present their charmed life with their model girlfriends creates a deep resentment. And then the "woke" crowds tells you how you should react. What if you don't? Do you have a voice. Not really. You are the enemy. Again, a simple look at social media creates this cancel culture. You can't express anything on a platform that allows you to express EVERYTHING. Meanwhile, you can't be bigoted, sexist...human. It goes against everything is in your nature, which tells you you are wrong regardless of what you say or do. You will be ignored. You will not get the accolades you desire in this village. You will break.
And now, what we have are people like Arthur Fleck. His deep pain is in being mentally ill and then being punished for attempting to not be. Regardless of what he does, he is seen poorly and treated as such. There is no kindness anywhere he reaches. In this boiling pot, our society keeps them at arms reach. My typical day requires I sidestep batshit crazy homeless. We ignore them as much as we do rabid animals. They have no voice, nor do we ever hear them. Should we? Fuck no. They're crazy. And a few lessons I've learned at the ground level is that they've reached their breaking point.
This movie addresses so many dark thoughts of a person lost in darkness. Should we understand this. YES! What is the solution before he snaps? Perhaps this movie is telling us that it is already too late. I do believe it is wrong to believe we can placate this anger. Some people are beyond redemption. There needs to be more focus on this type of person less we create more.
To me, "The Joker" is the de-evolution chart of the under represented. And it's also about the anger that surfaces due to it.
It addresses things that I've been saying for a long time. Everyone is talking and no one is listening.
In short, we lack empathy, and yet, we consider HIM the psycho.
Take the comic book aspect from this movie and it still hits on some really true thoughts. An intellectual dissection of HOW a disgruntled mentally ill person could cause chaos. In this case, sometimes it spirals to that point.
What is also apparent is our anger. Angry about everything. Even anger about not being angry. With the world we have created now, everyone with a dissenting opinion has a voice. These voices are sometimes destructive. A simple look at social media shows how horrible we can be towards others. And yet, we have no clue what buttons we are pushing and whom we are pushing. There are a lot of Jokers out there. Too scary to think about. But they also come in a specific form. Male between the ages of 18-35, typically Caucasian or Asian. Pent up anger at society. Then the fuel of media supporting all those beliefs we don't believe or are accused of. The loner male is typically accused of everything and can't get some hot babe adds to the fuel of what was sold to them. Be smart, funny and intelligent and you get hot sex. Wrong. As the media portrays it, you're still a rapist. The blowback of these accusations fall on deaf ears. Since the mob has settled on you being the enemy. This adds even more fuel. Then the ads infiltrate our psyche. There is an agenda pushed by the "woke" crowd that requires that you fall in step with whatever they think society should be. It's not. Rich people present their charmed life with their model girlfriends creates a deep resentment. And then the "woke" crowds tells you how you should react. What if you don't? Do you have a voice. Not really. You are the enemy. Again, a simple look at social media creates this cancel culture. You can't express anything on a platform that allows you to express EVERYTHING. Meanwhile, you can't be bigoted, sexist...human. It goes against everything is in your nature, which tells you you are wrong regardless of what you say or do. You will be ignored. You will not get the accolades you desire in this village. You will break.
And now, what we have are people like Arthur Fleck. His deep pain is in being mentally ill and then being punished for attempting to not be. Regardless of what he does, he is seen poorly and treated as such. There is no kindness anywhere he reaches. In this boiling pot, our society keeps them at arms reach. My typical day requires I sidestep batshit crazy homeless. We ignore them as much as we do rabid animals. They have no voice, nor do we ever hear them. Should we? Fuck no. They're crazy. And a few lessons I've learned at the ground level is that they've reached their breaking point.
This movie addresses so many dark thoughts of a person lost in darkness. Should we understand this. YES! What is the solution before he snaps? Perhaps this movie is telling us that it is already too late. I do believe it is wrong to believe we can placate this anger. Some people are beyond redemption. There needs to be more focus on this type of person less we create more.
To me, "The Joker" is the de-evolution chart of the under represented. And it's also about the anger that surfaces due to it.
Thursday, October 17, 2019
Criticism
If you get into any media field you will be dealing with these people.
They are strangers so they don't know you and for the most part, can base their views on the content and your craft.
Otherwise, they're dumb as shit.
Most critics are failed artist. Or cowardly artist. I've only respected one critic in the history of film criticism and that was Roger Ebert. He's like some really dumb things ("Speed 2"?!) but he always explains why he liked it. Most critics cannot. They just hate your film.
But that is the job of a critic. To get dumber people than you to either go see it or don't.
A lot of films are critic proof. Those superhero movies come to mind. They don't need Joe Morgenstern from the New York Times to wax about it. Nor Rex Reed to shit on it. Nor even Martin Scorsese to tell you there are too many of them. People will just go for the diversion. And, though I appreciate the fact that it is what is keeping the cinema-plexes alive, they are truly killing varying stories that can reach group audiences. Nothing like "Kramer vs. Kramer" will ever end up on the big screen again.
The other thing about critics, if they happen to be filmmakers themselves. If you happen to see their work and it's not your cup of tea, it is perfectly sane to discount that person.
I'm on a photo site where a guy has critique an image of mine. A small dig into his photo gallery told me everything I needed to know about his style which didn't coincide with my own. Is he wrong? Absolutely not. I just don't happen to think he was the person to comment on my image and give it the critique he thinks it needed regardless of the "technical" truth it required. I didn't engage, as he suffers the same fate most hobbyist do, poor subjects (his wife and kids). So check the source.
In terms of acting out there. That is the single most subjective anger inducing critique that comes to mind. While it's true you can drag out a perfectly fine performance out of bad dialogue or story, it is impossible to convince a bad actor they are bad (I've acted before, I thought I was adequate...I'm horrible). As a friend pointed out, we're at a saturation point now where everyone believes they can act and they do terrible projects that get attention for being bad. So others emulate it. Which becomes...how bad can bad get? Incidentally, you don't set out to make a bad movie, the Gods gather together and see how bad the acting/story is...John Waters proves this theory. Or whatever.
Hilariously enough, what if you attempted to make a John Waters movie and it becomes an Oscar level story/performance. Aim for the opposite, I say.
Any way, now you have a whole slew of "bad for bad's sake" films out there. My suggestion, just stick with what you want to make regardless of what critics think. And don't get too academic about it. Studies and science and fucking Ansel Adams destroyed the frontier. You are suppose to get to the edge. Be bold and forget the stupid "zone system" or the Method acting. Or the "rules of _____" not if it's on your dime. And that is what is lacking in cinema. Bravery. They can't afford it (though they make plenty of movies about it). Being bold means taking bigger chances. "Ghostbusters" with women sucked MASSIVE balls, but give them and director Paul Feig credit for trying. The new "Charlie's Angels" that will be more self-serious will also suck beyond balls. Guess what...directed by Elizabeth Banks...that's bold! There is a caveat it to these two though...they relied on a previous reputation to propel it. Not THAT brave, but brave to try.
In other words, steel yourself from the "critics" They're mostly dumb and haven't done anything.
They are strangers so they don't know you and for the most part, can base their views on the content and your craft.
Otherwise, they're dumb as shit.
Most critics are failed artist. Or cowardly artist. I've only respected one critic in the history of film criticism and that was Roger Ebert. He's like some really dumb things ("Speed 2"?!) but he always explains why he liked it. Most critics cannot. They just hate your film.
But that is the job of a critic. To get dumber people than you to either go see it or don't.
A lot of films are critic proof. Those superhero movies come to mind. They don't need Joe Morgenstern from the New York Times to wax about it. Nor Rex Reed to shit on it. Nor even Martin Scorsese to tell you there are too many of them. People will just go for the diversion. And, though I appreciate the fact that it is what is keeping the cinema-plexes alive, they are truly killing varying stories that can reach group audiences. Nothing like "Kramer vs. Kramer" will ever end up on the big screen again.
The other thing about critics, if they happen to be filmmakers themselves. If you happen to see their work and it's not your cup of tea, it is perfectly sane to discount that person.
I'm on a photo site where a guy has critique an image of mine. A small dig into his photo gallery told me everything I needed to know about his style which didn't coincide with my own. Is he wrong? Absolutely not. I just don't happen to think he was the person to comment on my image and give it the critique he thinks it needed regardless of the "technical" truth it required. I didn't engage, as he suffers the same fate most hobbyist do, poor subjects (his wife and kids). So check the source.
In terms of acting out there. That is the single most subjective anger inducing critique that comes to mind. While it's true you can drag out a perfectly fine performance out of bad dialogue or story, it is impossible to convince a bad actor they are bad (I've acted before, I thought I was adequate...I'm horrible). As a friend pointed out, we're at a saturation point now where everyone believes they can act and they do terrible projects that get attention for being bad. So others emulate it. Which becomes...how bad can bad get? Incidentally, you don't set out to make a bad movie, the Gods gather together and see how bad the acting/story is...John Waters proves this theory. Or whatever.
Hilariously enough, what if you attempted to make a John Waters movie and it becomes an Oscar level story/performance. Aim for the opposite, I say.
Any way, now you have a whole slew of "bad for bad's sake" films out there. My suggestion, just stick with what you want to make regardless of what critics think. And don't get too academic about it. Studies and science and fucking Ansel Adams destroyed the frontier. You are suppose to get to the edge. Be bold and forget the stupid "zone system" or the Method acting. Or the "rules of _____" not if it's on your dime. And that is what is lacking in cinema. Bravery. They can't afford it (though they make plenty of movies about it). Being bold means taking bigger chances. "Ghostbusters" with women sucked MASSIVE balls, but give them and director Paul Feig credit for trying. The new "Charlie's Angels" that will be more self-serious will also suck beyond balls. Guess what...directed by Elizabeth Banks...that's bold! There is a caveat it to these two though...they relied on a previous reputation to propel it. Not THAT brave, but brave to try.
In other words, steel yourself from the "critics" They're mostly dumb and haven't done anything.
Monday, October 14, 2019
Getting The Money To Make Movies
If you are reading this, it's more than likely you want to know how to get money to make your movie.
Answer: Stop.
There's an old saying in Hollywood that says that you should NEVER use your own money to make your movies. Sound advice, as I've been on a few films where the producer was putting up the money. I suppose they meant directors or writers or whatever. Movies are HIGH risk and little return, if any. You may argue movies like "Avengers" gets to the billions, that is because the investment was over $200 million (ugh). This is still a poor investment since it's not like there are 100 "Avengers" flicks available for you to make. And it's a studio. They have a lot leveraged into it. A similar comparison are these people who have mortgage their home to make a movie (there are some who have lost their home this way).
For many in the world, they want to know where they can get money to get thoughts to screen.
The system is rigged, folks. Not that that should ever dissuade you from your goals, but, there is no mid-range movie like there use to be. Or if they are, they're already lapped up by people who have already established 2 to 3 features already. It only takes one to get a track record. Then it takes savvy to get it seen.
In the REALLY old days, benefactors use to be a thing. Rich folk staved off boredom by paying someone to entertain them. If they liked your art you were commissioned to do more of it. This freed you up to having to do a soft shoe dance to get your movie made. Now, there are hundreds of speed bumps determined to stop your idea from reaching the screen.
The answer to this is that you have to fund your first film yourself. Sorry. And possibly your second one. And this takes patience. And patience sucks the enthusiasm out of your dream project, doesn't it? Yes.
The other thing is to do other things to get money to make your dream project. There is an inherent danger here since that becomes your thing.
I know of a guy who wants to get into film because he wants to promote his clothing line. He makes hundreds of thousands of dollars a year, he is now back tracking to do his own ads. He's pretty damn smart in that he is curious and interested in the foundation (guy's under 22 years old, I have faith).
The point is that there is no obstacle that should keep you from doing the projects you want. You should not have anyone telling either or. You just do it. And, quite frankly, don't read too much press either. This box office grab does you no good. If anything, seeing numbers go up for a movie you think is dumb will discourage your own path.
And overall, just enjoy what it is you're doing. The point of making movies is to exorcise stories that others relate to or enjoy. And you communicate your mind into the hearts of others. That's a pretty good magic trick. Respect it.
Answer: Stop.
There's an old saying in Hollywood that says that you should NEVER use your own money to make your movies. Sound advice, as I've been on a few films where the producer was putting up the money. I suppose they meant directors or writers or whatever. Movies are HIGH risk and little return, if any. You may argue movies like "Avengers" gets to the billions, that is because the investment was over $200 million (ugh). This is still a poor investment since it's not like there are 100 "Avengers" flicks available for you to make. And it's a studio. They have a lot leveraged into it. A similar comparison are these people who have mortgage their home to make a movie (there are some who have lost their home this way).
For many in the world, they want to know where they can get money to get thoughts to screen.
The system is rigged, folks. Not that that should ever dissuade you from your goals, but, there is no mid-range movie like there use to be. Or if they are, they're already lapped up by people who have already established 2 to 3 features already. It only takes one to get a track record. Then it takes savvy to get it seen.
In the REALLY old days, benefactors use to be a thing. Rich folk staved off boredom by paying someone to entertain them. If they liked your art you were commissioned to do more of it. This freed you up to having to do a soft shoe dance to get your movie made. Now, there are hundreds of speed bumps determined to stop your idea from reaching the screen.
The answer to this is that you have to fund your first film yourself. Sorry. And possibly your second one. And this takes patience. And patience sucks the enthusiasm out of your dream project, doesn't it? Yes.
The other thing is to do other things to get money to make your dream project. There is an inherent danger here since that becomes your thing.
I know of a guy who wants to get into film because he wants to promote his clothing line. He makes hundreds of thousands of dollars a year, he is now back tracking to do his own ads. He's pretty damn smart in that he is curious and interested in the foundation (guy's under 22 years old, I have faith).
The point is that there is no obstacle that should keep you from doing the projects you want. You should not have anyone telling either or. You just do it. And, quite frankly, don't read too much press either. This box office grab does you no good. If anything, seeing numbers go up for a movie you think is dumb will discourage your own path.
And overall, just enjoy what it is you're doing. The point of making movies is to exorcise stories that others relate to or enjoy. And you communicate your mind into the hearts of others. That's a pretty good magic trick. Respect it.
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