Match Director's Blog
Thursday, May 28, 2009
मैच news 2009
More (true) stories from the wild world of commercial production.
Scene 1 - Overheard on set
ACTOR: I was at Sly Stallone's house last night.
ACTOR 2: Yeah, you were a caterer at Sly Stallone's house last night.
ACTOR: At least I was at his house.
ACTOR 2: SERVING HIM DINNER!
Scene 2 - Overheard in Make-Up
MAKE-UP: A girlfriend of mine made a lot of money selling her panties on craigslist.
ACTOR: What do you mean?
MAKE-UP: I mean every day for a month, she would take her panties off at the end of the day, and put them in an envelope.
ACTOR: No.
MAKE-UP: And mail them.
ACTOR: No way! That's disgusting! (pause) How much money can you make doing something like that?
MAKE-UP: A lot.
Scene 3 - On set
1ST AD: Can you come dust off this guy's feet?
MAKE-UP: I don't dust feet!
1ST AD: You need to dust off his feet.
MAKE-UP: Well I'm not going to.
1ST AD: Well it's your job.
Scene 4 - In Holding
PA: So this is a Vick's commercial.
ACTOR: Yeah. Nyquil.
PA: And in the commercial, you... what do you do?
ACTOR: I sleep.
PA: (who has been up since 4:00 in the morning) That sounds like a good job.
ACTOR: It is.
PA: What was the audition like?
ACTOR: It was like, 'OK, lie there, and sleep. OK, now twitch your finger. Not so much. Good. Now drool.'
PA: Wow.
ACTOR: Yeah, I nailed it. (pulling on his sleep-mask) Hoping this thing goes national.
OTHER NEWS
The 48 Hour Film Project starts tomorrow, with 63 New York teams working through an adrenaline and coffee-fueled weekend to turn in their Scorsese-esque masterpieces on Sunday afternoon. If you're in the East Village, come join us for the drop - off party
DROP OFF EVENT
Sunday, May 31, 2009, 6:30-9:30p.m.
Village Pourhouse - East Village
64 Third Avenue at 11th Street
NYC 10003
Films will be screened on June 5, 6, 7 at NYU's Cantor Film Center.
AND FINALLY
Yours truly will be on NPR tomorrow at 11:55am-12 noon ET on the The
Brian Lehrer Show on WNYC, the NYC NPR affiliate. You can listen live online at www.wnyc.org
Imma be on the radio, byatches! For five whole minutes! I spent a half an hour today thinking about what I should wear. I asked my friend about it and he said, 'It's the radio, jackass' so, Garfield pajamas.
David
Scene 1 - Overheard on set
ACTOR: I was at Sly Stallone's house last night.
ACTOR 2: Yeah, you were a caterer at Sly Stallone's house last night.
ACTOR: At least I was at his house.
ACTOR 2: SERVING HIM DINNER!
Scene 2 - Overheard in Make-Up
MAKE-UP: A girlfriend of mine made a lot of money selling her panties on craigslist.
ACTOR: What do you mean?
MAKE-UP: I mean every day for a month, she would take her panties off at the end of the day, and put them in an envelope.
ACTOR: No.
MAKE-UP: And mail them.
ACTOR: No way! That's disgusting! (pause) How much money can you make doing something like that?
MAKE-UP: A lot.
Scene 3 - On set
1ST AD: Can you come dust off this guy's feet?
MAKE-UP: I don't dust feet!
1ST AD: You need to dust off his feet.
MAKE-UP: Well I'm not going to.
1ST AD: Well it's your job.
Scene 4 - In Holding
PA: So this is a Vick's commercial.
ACTOR: Yeah. Nyquil.
PA: And in the commercial, you... what do you do?
ACTOR: I sleep.
PA: (who has been up since 4:00 in the morning) That sounds like a good job.
ACTOR: It is.
PA: What was the audition like?
ACTOR: It was like, 'OK, lie there, and sleep. OK, now twitch your finger. Not so much. Good. Now drool.'
PA: Wow.
ACTOR: Yeah, I nailed it. (pulling on his sleep-mask) Hoping this thing goes national.
OTHER NEWS
The 48 Hour Film Project starts tomorrow, with 63 New York teams working through an adrenaline and coffee-fueled weekend to turn in their Scorsese-esque masterpieces on Sunday afternoon. If you're in the East Village, come join us for the drop - off party
DROP OFF EVENT
Sunday, May 31, 2009, 6:30-9:30p.m.
Village Pourhouse - East Village
64 Third Avenue at 11th Street
NYC 10003
Films will be screened on June 5, 6, 7 at NYU's Cantor Film Center.
AND FINALLY
Yours truly will be on NPR tomorrow at 11:55am-12 noon ET on the The
Brian Lehrer Show on WNYC, the NYC NPR affiliate. You can listen live online at www.wnyc.org
Imma be on the radio, byatches! For five whole minutes! I spent a half an hour today thinking about what I should wear. I asked my friend about it and he said, 'It's the radio, jackass' so, Garfield pajamas.
David
Labels: filmmaking, डेविड स्टोट, न्यू यार्क
¶ 11:03 PM 0 comments
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
२००९ Update
Stories from the wild world of commercial production.
Scene 1 - Overheard on walkie talkie:
1ST AD: Can you bring Pete to set?
2ND AD: Which Pete?
1ST AD: Pete to set, please.
2ND AD: Which Pete?
1ST AD: Um, hold on. OK, Pete S.
2ND AD: Which Pete S?
1ST AD: Bob, just bring him.
2ND AD: Bring who? Which one?
1ST AD: How many Pete S's-
2ND AD: There are three!
Scene 2 - Overheard at the craft-services table:
ACTOR: I'm gonna be RICH!
ACTOR 2: No, you're not gonna make shit, because you waived your residuals.
ACTOR: What does that mean?
ACTOR 2: It means you're not gonna make shit.
Scene 3 - Witnessed on set - a narrative
Place: Outdoor corporate plaza in Westchester.
Time: Early morning
The whole shot is this insert shot of a spilled coffee cup on the sidewalk. That's the shot - the spilled coffee, the coffee cup, and a guy's shoes - that's all we're going to see, so we're waiting for the actor to get the right shoes on. Now, the Art Department has spent an hour and a half on the coffee cup and the spilled coffee, but we need the shoes to complete the mise-en-scene, so we're set up, thirty people standing around, waiting for the actor to get out of wardrobe, staring at this coffee cup, and we're all very proud of how good it looks, how artistic, how REAL.
In walks the park janitor. He stops. He takes in the scene. He sees all of us, sees the coffee cup, looks at all of us again, looks back at the coffee cup. He rolls his eyes, and you can almost hear him thinking out loud. 'I mean, I know I'm the janitor, but are you people really that helpless? It's one coffee cup. NONE OF YOU knows what to do? NOT ONE OF YOU is willing to get his hands dirty? Do I have to do EVERYTHING? Fine, I'll clean it up. If y'all are just that BAFFLED, if you're just that HELPLESS, I'll pick up the stupid coffee cup.
The janitor makes his move.
Poor guy didn't stand a chance. Thirty people said, all at once, 'Whoa, whoa, whoa!' and six people instinctively stepped into his path, to block his movement, to physically restrain him if necessary, to prevent him from touching anything.
As they're carrying him off, he's shouting it's his job to keep the plaza clean, and "The coffee's not even HOT any more!"
Funniest thing I saw all day.
But I digress...
Some of you know I'm producing the 48 Hour Film Project in New York this year - it's a great project - I've done it six times as a director/actor etc and it's a great creative experience - really gets the juices flowing. It's a mad, mad weekend, but at that cast party is the most well-deserved beer you will ever drink.
Details below:
Registration is now open for the New York 48HFP, the first and biggest timed film competition in the world
May 29-31, 2009
http://www.48hourfilm.com/newyork
Make A Film in 48 Hours!
The 48 Hour Film Project brings filmmaking teams together to make a movie from scratch. Each completed film is guaranteed a big-screen screening in front of a full audience at NYU's Cantor Film Center.
To be part of the 48HFP, you must register online at:
http://www.48hourfilm.com/newyork/
The winning New York team will compete against other films to represent New York at the 48 Hour Film Project's Filmapalooza – our international screening and awards event. This year Filmapalooza is at the NAB Show in Las Vegas in April, 2010. International winners screen at Cannes.
Entry in the project is first come, first served, and last year we had to turn folks away, so enter today!
http://www.48hourfilm.com/newyork/
Questions? Email New York Producer David Stott at newyork@48hourfilm.com
We look forward to seeing you.
Happy spring,
David
Scene 1 - Overheard on walkie talkie:
1ST AD: Can you bring Pete to set?
2ND AD: Which Pete?
1ST AD: Pete to set, please.
2ND AD: Which Pete?
1ST AD: Um, hold on. OK, Pete S.
2ND AD: Which Pete S?
1ST AD: Bob, just bring him.
2ND AD: Bring who? Which one?
1ST AD: How many Pete S's-
2ND AD: There are three!
Scene 2 - Overheard at the craft-services table:
ACTOR: I'm gonna be RICH!
ACTOR 2: No, you're not gonna make shit, because you waived your residuals.
ACTOR: What does that mean?
ACTOR 2: It means you're not gonna make shit.
Scene 3 - Witnessed on set - a narrative
Place: Outdoor corporate plaza in Westchester.
Time: Early morning
The whole shot is this insert shot of a spilled coffee cup on the sidewalk. That's the shot - the spilled coffee, the coffee cup, and a guy's shoes - that's all we're going to see, so we're waiting for the actor to get the right shoes on. Now, the Art Department has spent an hour and a half on the coffee cup and the spilled coffee, but we need the shoes to complete the mise-en-scene, so we're set up, thirty people standing around, waiting for the actor to get out of wardrobe, staring at this coffee cup, and we're all very proud of how good it looks, how artistic, how REAL.
In walks the park janitor. He stops. He takes in the scene. He sees all of us, sees the coffee cup, looks at all of us again, looks back at the coffee cup. He rolls his eyes, and you can almost hear him thinking out loud. 'I mean, I know I'm the janitor, but are you people really that helpless? It's one coffee cup. NONE OF YOU knows what to do? NOT ONE OF YOU is willing to get his hands dirty? Do I have to do EVERYTHING? Fine, I'll clean it up. If y'all are just that BAFFLED, if you're just that HELPLESS, I'll pick up the stupid coffee cup.
The janitor makes his move.
Poor guy didn't stand a chance. Thirty people said, all at once, 'Whoa, whoa, whoa!' and six people instinctively stepped into his path, to block his movement, to physically restrain him if necessary, to prevent him from touching anything.
As they're carrying him off, he's shouting it's his job to keep the plaza clean, and "The coffee's not even HOT any more!"
Funniest thing I saw all day.
But I digress...
Some of you know I'm producing the 48 Hour Film Project in New York this year - it's a great project - I've done it six times as a director/actor etc and it's a great creative experience - really gets the juices flowing. It's a mad, mad weekend, but at that cast party is the most well-deserved beer you will ever drink.
Details below:
Registration is now open for the New York 48HFP, the first and biggest timed film competition in the world
May 29-31, 2009
http://www.48hourfilm.com/newyork
Make A Film in 48 Hours!
The 48 Hour Film Project brings filmmaking teams together to make a movie from scratch. Each completed film is guaranteed a big-screen screening in front of a full audience at NYU's Cantor Film Center.
To be part of the 48HFP, you must register online at:
http://www.48hourfilm.com/newyork/
The winning New York team will compete against other films to represent New York at the 48 Hour Film Project's Filmapalooza – our international screening and awards event. This year Filmapalooza is at the NAB Show in Las Vegas in April, 2010. International winners screen at Cannes.
Entry in the project is first come, first served, and last year we had to turn folks away, so enter today!
http://www.48hourfilm.com/newyork/
Questions? Email New York Producer David Stott at newyork@48hourfilm.com
We look forward to seeing you.
Happy spring,
David
Labels: नीक न्यू यार्क न्यू यार्क सिटी फ़िल्म फिल्म्माकिंग डेविड stott
¶ 11:00 PM 0 comments
Saturday, January 17, 2009
Dave Weighs in on The Clone Wars, Now That It's Too Late
In sheer story-telling terms, maybe the Clone Wars are best left in the past. Unexplored. Undisturbed. As a piece of dark history, a reference to former greatness, the Clone Wars were fascinating.
PRINCESS LEIA: Years ago you served my father in the Clone Wars.
DAVE: Cool. I wonder what that's all about?
As a flesh and blood prequel, tv show, book, video game and screensaver, the Clone Wars are crap. Maybe it’s just the execution – we'll never know - it never had a chance to stay in the dark because of the big mega-load shit-ton of money to be made. How long can the precepts of story resist that kind of cash? Current estimates put the value of the Star Wars franchise at a skillion dollars. What human being could resist?
Hence Jar-Jar. ¶ 1:01 PM 0 comments
PRINCESS LEIA: Years ago you served my father in the Clone Wars.
DAVE: Cool. I wonder what that's all about?
As a flesh and blood prequel, tv show, book, video game and screensaver, the Clone Wars are crap. Maybe it’s just the execution – we'll never know - it never had a chance to stay in the dark because of the big mega-load shit-ton of money to be made. How long can the precepts of story resist that kind of cash? Current estimates put the value of the Star Wars franchise at a skillion dollars. What human being could resist?
Hence Jar-Jar. ¶ 1:01 PM 0 comments
Saturday, January 10, 2009
A Holiday Story
I had a busy fall. I spent a month on Martha's Vineyard in a cottage with no heat, working days on an indy horror movie, holding the boom pole over my head, watching the director shout instructions like "Fear! Fear! Panic! Scream! Smile! You suck! Your boyfriend's dying!" then I came back to the city to resume my work in tv and commercial production, which consists largely of driving the director around the city until 4 in the morning, from bar to bar, so he can play his guitar in front of a live audience. Oh yes. 4 a.m. I also bought him socks.
But the best story I've heard on set this season was told to me by a fellow PA named Kevin. Kevin works in production for the money, has no aspirations to direct, and in fact does the job only to pay the rent and to afford an occasional night out with his girlfriend. Kevin is an imposing figure, 6'3", 250. Heart of gold, but very no-nonsense. In his own words:
KEVIN: So I'm working this job, and the Production Coordinator comes up to me and says, 'Kevin, you have to walk this dog. It's the agency dog. The client is very adamant that the dog gets walked five times a day. It needs to be walked now.' I look at her and I say 'fine.' I figure, I'll take a break, walk the dog around the block, visit the park, have a smoke, take my time, no problem.
'And,' the Coordinator says, 'you have to pick up it's crap.'
DAVID: And?
KEVIN: And I said 'I'm not doing that.' And she says 'You have to do it. It's the law.'
DAVID: So? Did you do it?
KEVIN: I didn't. And here's why. If I pick up that dog's crap, I will be known for the rest of my life as 'the guy who is willing to pick up that dog's crap.' I am not that guy. Not for a dog that I don't know personally. If it was my dog, fine, that's the law in New York, you pick up after your dog, but I'm not picking up this spoiled puppy's doo doo, I don't want to be that guy.
DAVID: I don't blame you.
KEVIN: But that wasn't the best part. The best part was this other PA wannabe director was standing right behind me, the words weren't even out of my mouth, when he jumps in with 'I'll do it!' and goes off and happily picks up the agency dog's crap for the rest of the afternoon.
DAVID: No kidding.
KEVIN: They will always ask you to do something terrible, and the terribleness will expand exponentially until you draw the line. You draw the line too early, you're out of a job. You draw it too late, you have no soul left. Balance, Dave. It's the only way. ¶ 3:11 PM 0 comments
But the best story I've heard on set this season was told to me by a fellow PA named Kevin. Kevin works in production for the money, has no aspirations to direct, and in fact does the job only to pay the rent and to afford an occasional night out with his girlfriend. Kevin is an imposing figure, 6'3", 250. Heart of gold, but very no-nonsense. In his own words:
KEVIN: So I'm working this job, and the Production Coordinator comes up to me and says, 'Kevin, you have to walk this dog. It's the agency dog. The client is very adamant that the dog gets walked five times a day. It needs to be walked now.' I look at her and I say 'fine.' I figure, I'll take a break, walk the dog around the block, visit the park, have a smoke, take my time, no problem.
'And,' the Coordinator says, 'you have to pick up it's crap.'
DAVID: And?
KEVIN: And I said 'I'm not doing that.' And she says 'You have to do it. It's the law.'
DAVID: So? Did you do it?
KEVIN: I didn't. And here's why. If I pick up that dog's crap, I will be known for the rest of my life as 'the guy who is willing to pick up that dog's crap.' I am not that guy. Not for a dog that I don't know personally. If it was my dog, fine, that's the law in New York, you pick up after your dog, but I'm not picking up this spoiled puppy's doo doo, I don't want to be that guy.
DAVID: I don't blame you.
KEVIN: But that wasn't the best part. The best part was this other PA wannabe director was standing right behind me, the words weren't even out of my mouth, when he jumps in with 'I'll do it!' and goes off and happily picks up the agency dog's crap for the rest of the afternoon.
DAVID: No kidding.
KEVIN: They will always ask you to do something terrible, and the terribleness will expand exponentially until you draw the line. You draw the line too early, you're out of a job. You draw it too late, you have no soul left. Balance, Dave. It's the only way. ¶ 3:11 PM 0 comments
Thursday, June 26, 2008
HOW TO MAKE A FILM IN 48 HOURS
WEEKS LEADING UP TO 48HFP
Dave: Well, our girlfriends dumped us, our best friends moved to California and the four editors we know are all busy that weekend. Should we do it anyway?
Kyle: Who's going to write?
Dave: I can write.
Kyle: Shoot?
Dave: Me.
Kyle: Edit?
Dave: Can't your new girlfriend edit?
Kyle: She does it professionally.
Dave: Great.
Kyle: She'll be twirling fire at a rock concert that weekend.
Dave: Oh.
WEDNESDAY – 2 days before the contest
Kyle: Are we going to meet to talk about this stuff?
David: I’m playing StarFox.
THURSDAY – the day before the contest
Kyle: Are we going to meet?
David: Later.
Kyle: We're running out of time, aren't we?
David: The Land Master isn’t going to pilot itself, Kyle!
FRIDAY - ONE HOUR BEFORE THE CONTEST STARTS:
Kyle: Should we meet?
David: Probably. Dr. Andross wants to rule the Lylat system, but he just doesn’t have the resume or the political experience to head up such a diverse- Star Wolf, you cock!!! (throws the video controller across the room, pause) What should our movie be about?
FRIDAY - ON THE TRAIN TO THE KICKOFF EVENT
Kyle: You know what movie is really good? Oceans 12.
David: I think we should shoot the whole thing in the subway. That way we won't have to light anything and we might finish early.
Kyle: Shoot on the subway? Isn't that illegal?
Dave: No.
Kyle: Are you sure? You hesitated.
Dave: It’s not illegal as long as you don't put down a tripod.
Kyle: I'm pretty sure it's illegal.
David: Hey, I got a call from the organizers. A camera crew is going to be doing behind the scenes work. They might follow us around.
Kyle: Won’t they get in the way?
David: Probably.
FRIDAY - AT THE KICKOFF EVENT
The guy shooting behind the scenes footage is practically begging for volunteer teams.
GUY: Can you help us out? Please? We really need people.
Dave: Sure.
GUY: Awesome. (turns on camera) So, what makes your team so special that we should follow you around?
LATER
David: Like he’s doing us some big favor.
Kyle: What’d you say?
David: I said I didn’t have an answer to that question.
Kyle: Well I talked to Luis. He said it’s definitely illegal to shoot in the subway.
Dave: He's just saying that.
LATER - SIX FORTY FIVE
Kyle pulls ‘Suspense/Thriller’ genre out of the hat
David: Perfect – we can do our Oceans 11 on a subway type thing.
Kyle: If it were legal to shoot in the subway, which it isn’t.
David: Who are you going to listen to? Me or Luis?
Kyle: Well, Luis is older, and he knows more.
David: Oh.
SEVEN O’CLOCK
Character, Prop and dialogue are announced:
Character: Thomas Ellison, a former attorney
Prop: A string instrument
Dialogue: “I cancelled my plans for this.”
EIGHT O’CLOCK
Kyle and David meet up with Ryan. They spend the next six hours hashing out an outline. All agree the scenes should be improvised.
MIDNIGHT
Script is done. All go home to toss and turn.
SATURDAY
EIGHT IN THE MORNING
Cast and crew assemble. Lots of new faces. Ryan Homchick, fresh off ‘The Seagull’ with Diane Wiest and Alan Cumming, is quite an actor.
Bianca Marroquin, fresh off a starring role on Broadway (Roxie Hart in CHICAGO) is quite an actor.
Ruben Flores, good friend of Bianca’s. Astonishing comic chops.
Brian Athey, ‘The New Kid.’ Extraordinary musician. Even better than Kyle on the guitar.
Michael Lane, neighborhood chum. Couldn’t be more likeable if he tried.
TEN IN THE MORNING
David: OK, everybody. We’re going to shoot all of this on the subway. Don’t worry. If the police come, I will handle it. Thanks for trusting me, LUIS. But first we’re going to rehearse in the park.
Luis: What are you going to say to the police? What if they take our tapes?
David: Are you the director?
ELEVEN IN THE MORNING
Shooting in the park, ‘rehearsing.’
TWELVE NOON
Shooting in the park, ‘rehearsing.’
ONE IN THE AFTERNOON
Shooting in the park, ‘rehearsing.’
Kyle: Maybe we should just use this footage.
David: I don’t know, I really wanted to do this scene in the subway.
Luis: So we could reshoot the last three hours of stuff, or spend the extra time editing.
David: OK, everybody, that’s lunch.
THREE UNTIL TEN IN THE EVENING
Shooting goes really, really smoothly. Very little time is spent on the train.
NINE IN THE EVENING
Luis: Kyle, look. In David's room, there are 18 cords plugged into one socket by a clever system of surge protectors. David has also plugged two additional 1K lights into the same socket. (Pause) He expressed some surprise when the fuse blew.
David: (entering) Can you believe this?
Roommate Sarah: The way our apartment is configured, the breaker box is not in our apartment, but the basement apartment, where the box is hidden behind the neighbors’ refrigerator.
David: Cool. Can we get them to open the box?
Sarah: Well, their English is poor and they don't know how a breaker box works, much less that their fridge is concealing it. And they might be unenthusiastic about inviting strangers into their home at 11 at night.
David: Oh.
Kyle: What are you going to do? You have to start editing.
David powers his editing suite by running an extension cord from the kitchen into his room.
Luis: Good solution. Great thinking. I’m going home. I’ll be back at seven in the morning. You must lock picture by seven in the morning.
David: Piece of cake. Why don’t you give me a challenge?
Luis: It’s illegal to shoot in the subway.
David: You’re just saying that.
ELEVEN AT NIGHT
Dave and Kyle, Editing.
TWELVE AT NIGHT
Dave and Kyle, Editing.
ONE IN THE MORNING
Dave and Kyle, Editing.
TWO IN THE MORNING
Dave and Kyle, Editing.
TWO THIRTY IN THE MORNING
An actor who shall remain nameless drinks a bottle of tequila.
Michael Lane (aka Drunk Actor): Can I watch?
David: Watch the extension cord.
Michael Lane: Huh?
Michael Lane trips over the extension cord.
All three computer screens go dark. The hard drives power down. The CPUs power down.
Kyle and David stare at the screens, willing them back to life.
Michael Lane (aka Actor Who Drunk Too Much): Whoops.
THREE IN THE MORNING
Dave and Kyle, crying.
FOUR IN THE MORNING
Still crying.
FIVE IN THE MORNING
Still editing.
SIX IN THE MORNING
David calls Luis.
Luis: You’re done already?
David: Sort of.
Luis: What happened.
David: Well, the movie needs to be three minutes long.
Luis: How long is it.
David: It’s longer than three minutes
Luis: How long is it?
David: The movie is forty-five minutes long.
Luis: So cut forty-two minutes.
David: So, I don’t want to let you down, or Bianca or Brian or Ruben or Ryan, or the other guy who worked so hard yesterday-
Luis: Kyle?
David: Is that his name? Yeah. I just can’t do it anymore. I haven’t slept – I can’t see straight – I got it down from 180 minutes to 45 minutes.
Luis: You have an hour to cut forty-two minutes out of the movie.
David: I’m going to sleep forever. Good bye.
Luis: Pack up your stuff. We’re coming to get you.
NINE IN THE MORNING
Brian and Luis arrive and carry David on a gurney to the car.
TEN IN THE MORNING, LUIS’S HOUSE, NEW JERSEY
Luis: So, let's see, how do you edit? Are these the right buttons? Oh yes, I remember. Let's see, we can cut this out, and this out, and this.
David: I'm awake.
Luis: We don’t need this shot, or this shot, or this shot.
David: I don’t think all of us need to sit here and watch you edit.
Luis: And this, and this.
David: You guys can do music for the opening, can’t you? And I can work on this.
Luis: But you’re so tired.
David: I hate you.
Luis: You should rest. (pause) You’re going to thank me for this.
David: This really isn’t funny.
THE NEXT NINE HOURS…
are a blur. Cuts are made, music is composed, more edits are made, DVDs and data DVDs are burned, we send Brian off to the train with the DVD. He almost misses the train. Kyle, Luis, Bianca, David and the guy who filmed us all weekend pile into the car at 6:15. Luis drives like a madman towards Manhattan. The Holland Tunnel is closed except for one lane. The clock is ticking. We get into Manhattan. Canal street is completely clogged. Brian calls from the drop off spot, Fontana’s (a bar).
Brian: (on phone) I turned in the DVD, but she says we have to have all the paperwork here, too. In the next eight minutes.
David: We have the paperwork here. The traffic is terrible.
Kyle: What a shame.
David: Hey Kyle.
Kyle: What?
David: You are the smartest, funniest, most talented person I know. I really admire you.
Kyle: What do you want?
David: You’re also in the best shape.
Kyle: So?
David: So how long will it take you to run the last ten blocks to the bar?
Kyle: (pulling on his running shoes) In this traffic?
And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how Kyle saved the day.
Now you can make ours.
WE ARE IN SCREENING GROUP D
Our screening will take place Thursday, June 26th, 9pm
Place: Landmark’s Sunshine Cinema, 143 E. Houston St., New York, NY
Notes: Tickets can be purchased at the door half an hour before the first screening. Tickets will sell out, so be sure to get yours early.
Here's the link. Tickets are $10.
http://www.landmarktheatres.com/tickets/
Hope you can make it --
David and the Match Crew
David J. Stott
Match Production Team
david@matchproductions.com
917.596.4155 ¶ 12:53 AM 0 comments
Dave: Well, our girlfriends dumped us, our best friends moved to California and the four editors we know are all busy that weekend. Should we do it anyway?
Kyle: Who's going to write?
Dave: I can write.
Kyle: Shoot?
Dave: Me.
Kyle: Edit?
Dave: Can't your new girlfriend edit?
Kyle: She does it professionally.
Dave: Great.
Kyle: She'll be twirling fire at a rock concert that weekend.
Dave: Oh.
WEDNESDAY – 2 days before the contest
Kyle: Are we going to meet to talk about this stuff?
David: I’m playing StarFox.
THURSDAY – the day before the contest
Kyle: Are we going to meet?
David: Later.
Kyle: We're running out of time, aren't we?
David: The Land Master isn’t going to pilot itself, Kyle!
FRIDAY - ONE HOUR BEFORE THE CONTEST STARTS:
Kyle: Should we meet?
David: Probably. Dr. Andross wants to rule the Lylat system, but he just doesn’t have the resume or the political experience to head up such a diverse- Star Wolf, you cock!!! (throws the video controller across the room, pause) What should our movie be about?
FRIDAY - ON THE TRAIN TO THE KICKOFF EVENT
Kyle: You know what movie is really good? Oceans 12.
David: I think we should shoot the whole thing in the subway. That way we won't have to light anything and we might finish early.
Kyle: Shoot on the subway? Isn't that illegal?
Dave: No.
Kyle: Are you sure? You hesitated.
Dave: It’s not illegal as long as you don't put down a tripod.
Kyle: I'm pretty sure it's illegal.
David: Hey, I got a call from the organizers. A camera crew is going to be doing behind the scenes work. They might follow us around.
Kyle: Won’t they get in the way?
David: Probably.
FRIDAY - AT THE KICKOFF EVENT
The guy shooting behind the scenes footage is practically begging for volunteer teams.
GUY: Can you help us out? Please? We really need people.
Dave: Sure.
GUY: Awesome. (turns on camera) So, what makes your team so special that we should follow you around?
LATER
David: Like he’s doing us some big favor.
Kyle: What’d you say?
David: I said I didn’t have an answer to that question.
Kyle: Well I talked to Luis. He said it’s definitely illegal to shoot in the subway.
Dave: He's just saying that.
LATER - SIX FORTY FIVE
Kyle pulls ‘Suspense/Thriller’ genre out of the hat
David: Perfect – we can do our Oceans 11 on a subway type thing.
Kyle: If it were legal to shoot in the subway, which it isn’t.
David: Who are you going to listen to? Me or Luis?
Kyle: Well, Luis is older, and he knows more.
David: Oh.
SEVEN O’CLOCK
Character, Prop and dialogue are announced:
Character: Thomas Ellison, a former attorney
Prop: A string instrument
Dialogue: “I cancelled my plans for this.”
EIGHT O’CLOCK
Kyle and David meet up with Ryan. They spend the next six hours hashing out an outline. All agree the scenes should be improvised.
MIDNIGHT
Script is done. All go home to toss and turn.
SATURDAY
EIGHT IN THE MORNING
Cast and crew assemble. Lots of new faces. Ryan Homchick, fresh off ‘The Seagull’ with Diane Wiest and Alan Cumming, is quite an actor.
Bianca Marroquin, fresh off a starring role on Broadway (Roxie Hart in CHICAGO) is quite an actor.
Ruben Flores, good friend of Bianca’s. Astonishing comic chops.
Brian Athey, ‘The New Kid.’ Extraordinary musician. Even better than Kyle on the guitar.
Michael Lane, neighborhood chum. Couldn’t be more likeable if he tried.
TEN IN THE MORNING
David: OK, everybody. We’re going to shoot all of this on the subway. Don’t worry. If the police come, I will handle it. Thanks for trusting me, LUIS. But first we’re going to rehearse in the park.
Luis: What are you going to say to the police? What if they take our tapes?
David: Are you the director?
ELEVEN IN THE MORNING
Shooting in the park, ‘rehearsing.’
TWELVE NOON
Shooting in the park, ‘rehearsing.’
ONE IN THE AFTERNOON
Shooting in the park, ‘rehearsing.’
Kyle: Maybe we should just use this footage.
David: I don’t know, I really wanted to do this scene in the subway.
Luis: So we could reshoot the last three hours of stuff, or spend the extra time editing.
David: OK, everybody, that’s lunch.
THREE UNTIL TEN IN THE EVENING
Shooting goes really, really smoothly. Very little time is spent on the train.
NINE IN THE EVENING
Luis: Kyle, look. In David's room, there are 18 cords plugged into one socket by a clever system of surge protectors. David has also plugged two additional 1K lights into the same socket. (Pause) He expressed some surprise when the fuse blew.
David: (entering) Can you believe this?
Roommate Sarah: The way our apartment is configured, the breaker box is not in our apartment, but the basement apartment, where the box is hidden behind the neighbors’ refrigerator.
David: Cool. Can we get them to open the box?
Sarah: Well, their English is poor and they don't know how a breaker box works, much less that their fridge is concealing it. And they might be unenthusiastic about inviting strangers into their home at 11 at night.
David: Oh.
Kyle: What are you going to do? You have to start editing.
David powers his editing suite by running an extension cord from the kitchen into his room.
Luis: Good solution. Great thinking. I’m going home. I’ll be back at seven in the morning. You must lock picture by seven in the morning.
David: Piece of cake. Why don’t you give me a challenge?
Luis: It’s illegal to shoot in the subway.
David: You’re just saying that.
ELEVEN AT NIGHT
Dave and Kyle, Editing.
TWELVE AT NIGHT
Dave and Kyle, Editing.
ONE IN THE MORNING
Dave and Kyle, Editing.
TWO IN THE MORNING
Dave and Kyle, Editing.
TWO THIRTY IN THE MORNING
An actor who shall remain nameless drinks a bottle of tequila.
Michael Lane (aka Drunk Actor): Can I watch?
David: Watch the extension cord.
Michael Lane: Huh?
Michael Lane trips over the extension cord.
All three computer screens go dark. The hard drives power down. The CPUs power down.
Kyle and David stare at the screens, willing them back to life.
Michael Lane (aka Actor Who Drunk Too Much): Whoops.
THREE IN THE MORNING
Dave and Kyle, crying.
FOUR IN THE MORNING
Still crying.
FIVE IN THE MORNING
Still editing.
SIX IN THE MORNING
David calls Luis.
Luis: You’re done already?
David: Sort of.
Luis: What happened.
David: Well, the movie needs to be three minutes long.
Luis: How long is it.
David: It’s longer than three minutes
Luis: How long is it?
David: The movie is forty-five minutes long.
Luis: So cut forty-two minutes.
David: So, I don’t want to let you down, or Bianca or Brian or Ruben or Ryan, or the other guy who worked so hard yesterday-
Luis: Kyle?
David: Is that his name? Yeah. I just can’t do it anymore. I haven’t slept – I can’t see straight – I got it down from 180 minutes to 45 minutes.
Luis: You have an hour to cut forty-two minutes out of the movie.
David: I’m going to sleep forever. Good bye.
Luis: Pack up your stuff. We’re coming to get you.
NINE IN THE MORNING
Brian and Luis arrive and carry David on a gurney to the car.
TEN IN THE MORNING, LUIS’S HOUSE, NEW JERSEY
Luis: So, let's see, how do you edit? Are these the right buttons? Oh yes, I remember. Let's see, we can cut this out, and this out, and this.
David: I'm awake.
Luis: We don’t need this shot, or this shot, or this shot.
David: I don’t think all of us need to sit here and watch you edit.
Luis: And this, and this.
David: You guys can do music for the opening, can’t you? And I can work on this.
Luis: But you’re so tired.
David: I hate you.
Luis: You should rest. (pause) You’re going to thank me for this.
David: This really isn’t funny.
THE NEXT NINE HOURS…
are a blur. Cuts are made, music is composed, more edits are made, DVDs and data DVDs are burned, we send Brian off to the train with the DVD. He almost misses the train. Kyle, Luis, Bianca, David and the guy who filmed us all weekend pile into the car at 6:15. Luis drives like a madman towards Manhattan. The Holland Tunnel is closed except for one lane. The clock is ticking. We get into Manhattan. Canal street is completely clogged. Brian calls from the drop off spot, Fontana’s (a bar).
Brian: (on phone) I turned in the DVD, but she says we have to have all the paperwork here, too. In the next eight minutes.
David: We have the paperwork here. The traffic is terrible.
Kyle: What a shame.
David: Hey Kyle.
Kyle: What?
David: You are the smartest, funniest, most talented person I know. I really admire you.
Kyle: What do you want?
David: You’re also in the best shape.
Kyle: So?
David: So how long will it take you to run the last ten blocks to the bar?
Kyle: (pulling on his running shoes) In this traffic?
And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how Kyle saved the day.
Now you can make ours.
WE ARE IN SCREENING GROUP D
Our screening will take place Thursday, June 26th, 9pm
Place: Landmark’s Sunshine Cinema, 143 E. Houston St., New York, NY
Notes: Tickets can be purchased at the door half an hour before the first screening. Tickets will sell out, so be sure to get yours early.
Here's the link. Tickets are $10.
http://www.landmarktheatres.com/tickets/
Hope you can make it --
David and the Match Crew
David J. Stott
Match Production Team
david@matchproductions.com
917.596.4155 ¶ 12:53 AM 0 comments
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
BACK IN THE CITY
(this post rated R for language)
At the end of February I returned to the city after a three month break in Richmond, VA. There were some highlights - Bucka Watson went a 55.66 in the 100 fly, I got to know my nieces, I got to visit with my brothers and my family. I got to see a number of old friends I hadn't seen in a while.
The hard part was that my brothers are doing great. Big houses, nice cars, loving spouses. While I was home I was living in my mom's basement (to the delight of some of the swimmers I coached) and was preparing to move back to New York without any job prospects.
But the big city is where the art is, so I went back, and now I'm here, and it's a good fit. My little production company has just enough clients that I can pay the rent, and I'm working hard.
One of the first things I did when I returned to the city was I called or emailed everyone I knew, trying to reconnect with old friends. I found a new place to live, my new roommates are great, and last week I was fortunate enough to have dinner in New Jersey with some good friends, and Ciaran Hinds was there. Ciaran played Julius Caesar in HBO's series, ROME. I am an enormous fan of the series, so I didn't say much during dinner (I listened). But after the evening was over, we were getting a ride back to New York from our gracious host, and I asked Mr. Hinds what the best part of being on the show was. I figured, I tell people I had dinner with Julius Caesar, I ought to have a story to tell.
His story was a good one. He was in the middle of this multimillion dollar production and during one scene, his character, Caesar, has a seizure.
CIARAN: The director said to me, 'do whatever you want, but stay in the light' because they had set up some lights for me that were supposed to be on me at all times. If they weren't on me, you couldn't see me, and the shot would be ruined.
DAVID: OK.
CIARAN: I said to the director, 'My eyes are closed.'
'I know,' the director said. 'Just stay in the light.' So I'm supposed to have do this with my eyes closed, and act, and be spontaneous, and HAVE A FUCKING SEIZURE, and at the same time, I'm supposed to stay in the light. A few inches this way or that and I'll ruin the shot.
DAVID: (breathlessly hanging onto every word) What did you do?
CIARAN: One of the actors I worked with, simply put out his hands, cradled my head, and said 'I've got you, guv.'
Ciaran worked on Rome for six months. 100 million dollars were spent capturing his portrayal of Caesar. And that was what he remembered: an act of kindness in the middle of all the craziness.
Pretty cool.
The next day, I got up at 4:30 a.m. to work on a McDonald's commercial, and I was proud to be in show business, a business with such a rich and historic heritage, where such moments of kindness can be found daily amongst the daily barbarity of life.
I say it was barbaric because I was working on a fucking McDonald's commercial, trying to get people to stop walking down the street in the middle of Chelsea. Now, you ask people nicely, and explain you're filming, and you're trying to get a shot off, and some of them will hear you out, and graciously slow down. But when they hear it's for McDonald's, they tell you to go fuck yourself and stomp you in the face with their steel-toed shitkickers.
If you've PA'd and tried to lock up a set before, you know what I'm talking about. Legally we are not allowed to stop anybody from walking down the sidewalk. It's a public sidewalk. Our job, however, is to persuade people, as politely as we are able, to please hold up for the next thirty seconds so we can get the shot off without a bunch of random people walking through the shot.
Go ahead. Try to convince an angry half-blind 80 year-old Polish woman to please not walk her dog through the middle of the McDonald's commercial. When you realize after repeating yourself six times that she doesn't speak English and wouldn't care even if she did, well, then you're in the club.
Conclusion: some days you're the king, some days you're the serf.
P.S. On set the next day I was in charge of ice. My job was to stop it from melting. Sweet. ¶ 4:16 PM 4 comments
At the end of February I returned to the city after a three month break in Richmond, VA. There were some highlights - Bucka Watson went a 55.66 in the 100 fly, I got to know my nieces, I got to visit with my brothers and my family. I got to see a number of old friends I hadn't seen in a while.
The hard part was that my brothers are doing great. Big houses, nice cars, loving spouses. While I was home I was living in my mom's basement (to the delight of some of the swimmers I coached) and was preparing to move back to New York without any job prospects.
But the big city is where the art is, so I went back, and now I'm here, and it's a good fit. My little production company has just enough clients that I can pay the rent, and I'm working hard.
One of the first things I did when I returned to the city was I called or emailed everyone I knew, trying to reconnect with old friends. I found a new place to live, my new roommates are great, and last week I was fortunate enough to have dinner in New Jersey with some good friends, and Ciaran Hinds was there. Ciaran played Julius Caesar in HBO's series, ROME. I am an enormous fan of the series, so I didn't say much during dinner (I listened). But after the evening was over, we were getting a ride back to New York from our gracious host, and I asked Mr. Hinds what the best part of being on the show was. I figured, I tell people I had dinner with Julius Caesar, I ought to have a story to tell.
His story was a good one. He was in the middle of this multimillion dollar production and during one scene, his character, Caesar, has a seizure.
CIARAN: The director said to me, 'do whatever you want, but stay in the light' because they had set up some lights for me that were supposed to be on me at all times. If they weren't on me, you couldn't see me, and the shot would be ruined.
DAVID: OK.
CIARAN: I said to the director, 'My eyes are closed.'
'I know,' the director said. 'Just stay in the light.' So I'm supposed to have do this with my eyes closed, and act, and be spontaneous, and HAVE A FUCKING SEIZURE, and at the same time, I'm supposed to stay in the light. A few inches this way or that and I'll ruin the shot.
DAVID: (breathlessly hanging onto every word) What did you do?
CIARAN: One of the actors I worked with, simply put out his hands, cradled my head, and said 'I've got you, guv.'
Ciaran worked on Rome for six months. 100 million dollars were spent capturing his portrayal of Caesar. And that was what he remembered: an act of kindness in the middle of all the craziness.
Pretty cool.
The next day, I got up at 4:30 a.m. to work on a McDonald's commercial, and I was proud to be in show business, a business with such a rich and historic heritage, where such moments of kindness can be found daily amongst the daily barbarity of life.
I say it was barbaric because I was working on a fucking McDonald's commercial, trying to get people to stop walking down the street in the middle of Chelsea. Now, you ask people nicely, and explain you're filming, and you're trying to get a shot off, and some of them will hear you out, and graciously slow down. But when they hear it's for McDonald's, they tell you to go fuck yourself and stomp you in the face with their steel-toed shitkickers.
If you've PA'd and tried to lock up a set before, you know what I'm talking about. Legally we are not allowed to stop anybody from walking down the sidewalk. It's a public sidewalk. Our job, however, is to persuade people, as politely as we are able, to please hold up for the next thirty seconds so we can get the shot off without a bunch of random people walking through the shot.
Go ahead. Try to convince an angry half-blind 80 year-old Polish woman to please not walk her dog through the middle of the McDonald's commercial. When you realize after repeating yourself six times that she doesn't speak English and wouldn't care even if she did, well, then you're in the club.
Conclusion: some days you're the king, some days you're the serf.
P.S. On set the next day I was in charge of ice. My job was to stop it from melting. Sweet. ¶ 4:16 PM 4 comments
Wednesday, November 07, 2007
Why The Da Vinci Code Sucked
1. Tom Hanks’s ludicrous haircut.
2. Tom Hanks and Amelie had no chemistry at ALL.
3. Tom Hanks and Amelie had no opportunity to establish any chemistry. The movie starts and immediately we’re off to the codebooks.
4. Paul Bettany is poorly cast. He flagellates himself convincingly, but he isn’t scary. A meathead should’ve played that part.
5. Alfred Molina’s costume was hilarious. Hi-larious. Nobody cared when he got shot. We were all like, ‘good, you deserve it for dressing like an asshole. (yawns) Maybe the movie will end soon.’
But the biggest problem the movie had was a little thing we like to call exposition. Once upon a time I moved to New York. Once upon a time I did some acting. Once upon a time I learned from an acting teacher (who was a boor and had no bedside manner whatsoever), three very valuable lessons. One, don’t talk on the phone onstage. The phone should not ever be allowed to be more important than the action on stage, the action that is taking place between two human beings onstage at this very moment. This is why we go to see live theatre, to see two people trying to get along and failing. Onstage. Right in front of us.
2. All you can do is go after what you want. You can’t pretend to be sad, or glad, or mad, or pretend to have a limp, or a lisp, or a Southern accent, all you can do is BE the guy (or girl). BE there. Show up for the scene.
Number 3, exposition is for assholes. You’ve all seen exposition in a bad movie or play or in the Da Vinci Code. Books can get away with it – in books sometimes you look forward to it – when Dumbledore finally explains what the fuck is going on, we welcome it. I ‘m not sure why it works in books, perhaps a topic for another essay, but it works in books.
It does not work in theatre. It does not work in film, it does not work in Da Vinci Code, The Movie.
What is exposition, exactly? Exposition is the ham-handed introduction of information into the story or situation that the audience does not give one single crap about. Example: If, in the middle of his monologue, Hamlet said, "To be, or not to be. That is the question. I like lima beans. Also, I can remember the time when my cat Mittens got stuck up a tree. Plus, I like whales."
These questions all fail the 'Who Cares?' Test. Who cares? Nobody.
Tom Hanks expositioned himself through this entire movie, and the blame for this should be laid at the feet of Akiva Goldsman.
Horrible Exposition: "So then the knights templar gathered up the jedi knights and slaughtered them, executing Executive Order 66, which the emperor had dreamed up long ago, in preparation for this very day, should it ever become necessary. Plus, I like whales."
Better: "You can’t say that with perfect certainty, Teabing, because you’re forgetting this other piece of scholarship."
See, it almost works when Tom Hanks and Ian McKellen argue out the exposition, because it gives the actors something to do besides feed us information. The great Suzanne Shepherd (Karen’s Mom in Goodfellas) once told me, 'we do not pay you to give us information. We pay you to tell us a story. We pay you to have an opinion about the things that are coming out of your mouth.' So when Tom Hanks gives us all this shit about the Knights Templar and it’s academic, and he doesn’t care, then we don’t care. I know he has to say it to advance the plot, but the man who wrote A Beautiful Mind ought to be able to figure out a better way to do this. Shame on you, Mr. Goldsman. Shame on you, Ron Howard, for letting him get away with it. Shame on you, Mr. Hanks, for letting them get away with it.
Shame on you all. These are basic lessons that I learned within a year of moving to New York. Tom effing Hanks and Ron effing Howard should have memorized this rule – it should be obvious to them. They are Masters. They are afforded the mind-numbingly awesome privilege of getting to tell stories in the grandest way humanity has ever devised. All the time, 24/7. I do it part-time. I’m a dilettante. I do it on nights and weekends, and I know better.
Disclaimer. Making movies is hard. Trashing movies is easy. Making a movie takes years of planning and financing and a dedicated team of hundreds to produce. Trashing a movie requires a pencil and a bad attitude. Everyone I wrote about here is more accomplished than me. But they should know better.
P.S. What also sucked – at the beginning, Mr. Hanks is giving a speech, and he asks for answers from the crowd: no crowd in the history of crowds has ever given answers as fast as that crowd did. Crowds take some time warming up to you, especially when they're reacting to questions posed by a known expert. Take some time, Ron Howard, establish the scene. Make it real. Real recognizes real. ¶ 11:52 PM 2 comments
2. Tom Hanks and Amelie had no chemistry at ALL.
3. Tom Hanks and Amelie had no opportunity to establish any chemistry. The movie starts and immediately we’re off to the codebooks.
4. Paul Bettany is poorly cast. He flagellates himself convincingly, but he isn’t scary. A meathead should’ve played that part.
5. Alfred Molina’s costume was hilarious. Hi-larious. Nobody cared when he got shot. We were all like, ‘good, you deserve it for dressing like an asshole. (yawns) Maybe the movie will end soon.’
But the biggest problem the movie had was a little thing we like to call exposition. Once upon a time I moved to New York. Once upon a time I did some acting. Once upon a time I learned from an acting teacher (who was a boor and had no bedside manner whatsoever), three very valuable lessons. One, don’t talk on the phone onstage. The phone should not ever be allowed to be more important than the action on stage, the action that is taking place between two human beings onstage at this very moment. This is why we go to see live theatre, to see two people trying to get along and failing. Onstage. Right in front of us.
2. All you can do is go after what you want. You can’t pretend to be sad, or glad, or mad, or pretend to have a limp, or a lisp, or a Southern accent, all you can do is BE the guy (or girl). BE there. Show up for the scene.
Number 3, exposition is for assholes. You’ve all seen exposition in a bad movie or play or in the Da Vinci Code. Books can get away with it – in books sometimes you look forward to it – when Dumbledore finally explains what the fuck is going on, we welcome it. I ‘m not sure why it works in books, perhaps a topic for another essay, but it works in books.
It does not work in theatre. It does not work in film, it does not work in Da Vinci Code, The Movie.
What is exposition, exactly? Exposition is the ham-handed introduction of information into the story or situation that the audience does not give one single crap about. Example: If, in the middle of his monologue, Hamlet said, "To be, or not to be. That is the question. I like lima beans. Also, I can remember the time when my cat Mittens got stuck up a tree. Plus, I like whales."
These questions all fail the 'Who Cares?' Test. Who cares? Nobody.
Tom Hanks expositioned himself through this entire movie, and the blame for this should be laid at the feet of Akiva Goldsman.
Horrible Exposition: "So then the knights templar gathered up the jedi knights and slaughtered them, executing Executive Order 66, which the emperor had dreamed up long ago, in preparation for this very day, should it ever become necessary. Plus, I like whales."
Better: "You can’t say that with perfect certainty, Teabing, because you’re forgetting this other piece of scholarship."
See, it almost works when Tom Hanks and Ian McKellen argue out the exposition, because it gives the actors something to do besides feed us information. The great Suzanne Shepherd (Karen’s Mom in Goodfellas) once told me, 'we do not pay you to give us information. We pay you to tell us a story. We pay you to have an opinion about the things that are coming out of your mouth.' So when Tom Hanks gives us all this shit about the Knights Templar and it’s academic, and he doesn’t care, then we don’t care. I know he has to say it to advance the plot, but the man who wrote A Beautiful Mind ought to be able to figure out a better way to do this. Shame on you, Mr. Goldsman. Shame on you, Ron Howard, for letting him get away with it. Shame on you, Mr. Hanks, for letting them get away with it.
Shame on you all. These are basic lessons that I learned within a year of moving to New York. Tom effing Hanks and Ron effing Howard should have memorized this rule – it should be obvious to them. They are Masters. They are afforded the mind-numbingly awesome privilege of getting to tell stories in the grandest way humanity has ever devised. All the time, 24/7. I do it part-time. I’m a dilettante. I do it on nights and weekends, and I know better.
Disclaimer. Making movies is hard. Trashing movies is easy. Making a movie takes years of planning and financing and a dedicated team of hundreds to produce. Trashing a movie requires a pencil and a bad attitude. Everyone I wrote about here is more accomplished than me. But they should know better.
P.S. What also sucked – at the beginning, Mr. Hanks is giving a speech, and he asks for answers from the crowd: no crowd in the history of crowds has ever given answers as fast as that crowd did. Crowds take some time warming up to you, especially when they're reacting to questions posed by a known expert. Take some time, Ron Howard, establish the scene. Make it real. Real recognizes real. ¶ 11:52 PM 2 comments
