Monday, March 29, 2010

The Plight Of The Good Story

Ah, networking...Can anything else be so discouraging as a simple networking event can be?  I mean, I'm sure there can be, at least on an equal level anyway, but hear me out for a moment.  Seminars, panels, parties, and screenings.  Sometimes they're really great.  Sometimes they make me feel like I'm truly doing the right thing but sometimes they make me wish I'd gone into a more simpler industry...like brain surgery or rocket science maybe.

After a 5 hour session of seminars and panelists at the first iHollywood event in Santa Monica I felt like someone had gagged and bound me then thrown me in a trunk.  It started out innocently enough.  A couple hours of two speakers discussing financing and business plans while promoting their books at the same time.  I have to admit it was a little dry but if I listened closely I realized I was able to pick up some fine points.  John Reiss, author of a book called Think Outside the Box Office was the first speaker and Louise Levison, author of Filmmakers and Financing: Business Plans for Independents was the second speaker.  They gave us some pointers on the changing world of film distribution, what to put in a business plan and, well, ok, I think I tuned out after hearing them discuss a couple things I was already doing based on just plain common sense.  I recorded it though and at some random moment I suppose I'll go back and listen again as I do recall muttering a couple hmm's and huh's.  It's those classroom type situations that tend to force my mind into wander mode.  Never was good at absorbing a lecture unless it allowed me a dialogue and interaction as it went along.

Anyhow, we then broke for some networking and dinner.  Nick and I attended this one together and we parted at this point to schmooze with the crowd at separate tables.  I found myself with a man from Florida looking to distribute a comedy and a sci-fi he had just finished, a guy with a company that offered internet to TV programming, and an ex-wildlife cinematographer now somehow involved with the WWF.  I liked the latter guy and his charisma quite a bit.  Definitely social and easy to talk with.  Having always had a desire to do camera work for Discovery & National Geographic and being a big fan of "Planet Earth" I couldn't resist drilling him on some of his camera experience.  I got an interesting story or two on arctic shoots he had been on.  The Florida guy was a bit tough to get a flowing conversation going with but he was friendly enough and the internet guy offered a down to earth kind of sense of humor and demeanor.  My table was ok.  Nick, on the other hand, was across the room being questioned on why he didn't have his badge on, being tortured by IT guys, and having to fight his way into a conversation with a lady from Paramount.  He eventually came over after I texted him about the cinematographer.

We moved from dinner to a workflow presentation that lasted about 20 minutes.  By now it was just about endurance for me.  Find a little gem of info wherever I could was the goal.  But then the panel came up.  Oh the panel.  Six studio guys in black suit coats.  This whole panel changed the entire mood and seemed to start a small fire under my seat.  They all discussed the ever distracting new world of James Cameron's god forsaken 3D pioneering.  They seemed to praise 3D, big budget filmmaking and 2009 movie going like they'd struck Texas tea.  They asked the audience who we were..."Post production?" About 5 people.  "SAG, DGA, PGA, WGA?"  About 5 people. "Technology?"  About 5 people.  "How many people watch the Oscars?"  "Hahahaha"....The rest of us indie filmmakers were left out and on our own.  This should have tipped me off to the fact that I was in for an hour of frustration.

They started out saying movie ticket prices were going up this weekend.  Yay!  How much more money will the world demand from me for the simplest of things?  They moved into the gigantic success of 3D filmmaking and how "Avatar" helped everyone.  They backed that statement with numbers based on the big success of the opening weekend of "Alice In Wonderland".

Oh man.  Really?  I began to clamp down on my tongue.  Did they not realize that "Alice in Wonderland" did so well because it was and is a well known, classic work too many of us grew up with and loved?  Did they not know that had it been in 2D most of the same people would have gone to see it simply for Johnny Depp and Tim Burton?  The 3D was just a strange perk that added to the wild ride of that crazy story.  That's all.  That's it.  3D wasn't the driving force.  And actually turned out to be not so impressive to this movie goer or her companion when they ventured down the rabbit hole.

They continued on, saying thanks to the awesome 3D movement gigantic budgets would be the norm, less movies would be made, so less work for everyone.

Hurray!  Great for the thousands of us currently clamoring for jobs in the industry as it is now.

They continued on, praising big studio works and went so far as to state EVERYTHING would be in 3D sooooooonnnnnn!!!!!

Are they nuts?  I wondered.  Do they not realize the group of people they're talking with have not even one finger nail in the door of big studio production?

One little guy I'd seen before at some other panel and certainly filling big shoes, made the comment that the wrong movie had won the Oscars after another bashed the boredom of the entire show itself.

Boring?  Really?  Didn't they say the same thing last year?  Maybe it's award shows that are really not too thrilling to watch...Wait.  Did he just say?  Did he just say the wrong movie won the Best Picture Oscar this year?  Now I was squirming in my seat, teeth firmly on tongue, lips cemented together.  First of all, not one of the nominees was a best picture in my opinion.  Not one gave me that fulfilling feeling I get after seeing a masterpiece.  Not one.  BUT of them all the one that came close was the one that actually won, "Hurt Locker".  Damn good ol' boys.  Enough already.  It's 2010.  Granted the little guy was heavy on the marketing side of "Avatar" but come on.  Integrity? Art? Film?  Is it only business now?  Is it only how much money a movie makes that matters?  I guess so if you're going to be spending $200 million and up on each film...big hole in the joy of that amazing 3D trend I'd say.

So, after about a half hour of big studio ass kissing they suddenly turned around and said ultimately it was about story.  Concept.

Eh?  "Clash of the Titans"?  "Avatar"?  "Footloose"?  Remakes??  Where's the story there?  I looked around the room several times to try and read the faces of the audience.  Were they in agreement here?  Nick pronounced a bullshit at one point so I knew he was struggling as much as I was with the opinions of these men.

Then a lady spoke up and I knew we weren't alone...."So, so you're telling me I'm going to want to see "Sex In The City" in 3D?"  She informed the panel they were in a room of indie filmmakers and threw the SAG guy on the panel a bit of compassion for the magnitude of talent that would be struggling for work with this new technological advent.  Another lady, somewhere in the end, asked the question,  "How will digital media benefit me as an indie filmmaker?"  They questioned whether it was theatrical release or general exposure she wanted.  Her response was that she didn't know yet.  So what did she get?  A pat.  A patronizing pat on the head.  She was informed self distribution and marketing would be an opportunity as she would have a plethora of new media and internet at her fingertips.

Ha!  Right.  I've personally tried the internet distribution and grassroots marketing measures for someone else's feature film and no indie filmmaker has the money or manpower for it.  That is a super saturated world.  Try to find your demographic in a sea of invisible Youtube and Netflix watchers.  Damn near impossible at this moment.  And theater is where we all want our films shown.  Big, bold and beautiful.  Not on an Ipad, Iphone or computer monitor.

They went on to obliterate celluloid filmmaking.

I'm sorry but I love film.  I love the richness of it.  I love the artistry of it.  I don't want it to be obsolete any more than I want vinyl to be obsolete.  I completely understand the financial savings and ease of production and post production with digital but if I had the funds and had the choice 35mm would be the direction I'd go in every single time. Why turn our backs on it completely?

As we neared the end the panel emphasized how important good story was as much as they could and it was all I could do to wish nothing but evil on the Hollywood conglomerates.  I hoped 3D would be their downfall  not their success.  How quickly they did a 180 once they knew what the audience in front of them wanted to hear.  We left that building bursting with complaints and full of animated conversation as we drove up the 405.

My solution for those of us who need to keep our industry open to everyone interested in good visual storytelling is to create an equally powerful and competitive indie film community.  Fill it with independent film investors, distributors, filmmakers, and exhibitors.  And collaborate, collaborate, collaborate.  Come together and operate together.  Stop scrambling to be the next big blockbuster director if what you enjoy is crafting story based, intelligent and/or artistic movies.  Stop stepping on each other to get to the tiny top.  Start listening, talking, engaging other like minded movie makers and build a part of the industry that benefits everyone rather than just the Hollywood studio system.  New media may be good but seeing your creation on a large screen is great.  There's nothing that says independent film can't be out there competing with the giant machine currently way too overly impressed with 3D technology. - TKS

Tuesday, March 23, 2010

Screenwriting, Werner Herzog, and Embracing the Loneliness

Sitting in the cozy bosom of the Writers Guild Foundation/Writers Guild of America buiding in Los Angeles, it struck me just how important validation is for a writer.  A validation that doesn't come once in a career, or the kind that strikes in a lucky bolt of triumph and recognition when your script or novel is sold; I mean weekly, even daily validation.

I was attending the latest installment of "Anatomy of a Script," hosted by Robin Schiff and Winnie Holzman, where successful screenwriters come and discuss their careers, answer questions and break down their work over a three hour session that goes by all too fast.  (If you are a screenwriter in the Southern California area, this is a wonderful resource).  Listening to Laeta Kalogridis discuss her screenplay "Shutter Island," I took great comfort hearing her describe her challenges fighting page count, spending too much time focusing on transitions, and turning her wheels on a few lines of dialogue for hours at a time.

Of course I should have known it wasn't just me that struggles with these things, but when you spend so much time alone in a room with a cursor blinking back at you, you're hypnotized into questioning what's right and what's wrong, what's good and what's bad.

Everyone has notes and opinions when it comes to someone else's writing, and they sure don't have any problem sharing those steadfast views with others, but when it comes to one's OWN writing, suddenly the labels fall off the compass.  There is no right answer, THERE ARE A THOUSAND ANSWERS, and all you have is your soppy gut to guide you across the bright white empty wasteland.  When the words do finally come we see just how fragile our theories about what's good and what's bad truly are.  Who really hands over their work for the first time and doesn't question everything they know and believe about everything?

It's a need for validation that manifests itself in an entire industry of magazines, how-to-books about the process of writing, #scriptchat on twitter, writers groups, writers blogs, writers tips of the day, and movies, of course the movies about writers who struggle with their art...

"Stand by Me," "Stranger than Fiction," "Misery," 2 out of 5 workshop samples, "Adaptation," "Wonder Boys," "Barton Fink," "Barfly," "Shakespeare in Love," "Sideways," Bukowski: Born Into This" -- Born Into This -- Could anything sound more pretentious? 

What is this uncanny, insatiable need for writers to write about writing, if it's not a passive aggressive plea for validation? -- To show everyone, just how noble and important writing is to the world?  "I am a writer.  Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair!"

"Theeis eeis masturbation," I can imagine Werner Herzog say with his soft inflection that contrasts his Arnold-Schwarzenegger-like accent.

On Saturday I got to see a double feature including his two films "Nosferatu the Vampyre" and "Cobra Verde," between which he spoke to the audience.

Werner Herzog.  This a soldier of film.  A man who declares that he sees the films in his head, in their entirety before he sits down to write them in the course of 3 to 5 days.

It shows.

These films, namely "Cobra Verde," were hard to follow, sometimes hard to sit through, but they were also beautiful and most impressively, teeming with confidence.  They give you the sense that this man doesn't give a damn if you like or dislike his movie.

He spoke of being a soldier of film, about "Holding an artistic outpost that others have abandoned.  It means discipline.  It means perseverance.  It means courage." 

While you're wondering what's the hell is going on, questioning the plot, continuity, Herzog presses on, unwavering.  If the plot or the character won't pull you through the film, it's Herzog's utter confidence that will pull you to the credits.

Herzog says of the iconic image of steamship hauled over a mountaintop in his film "Fitzcarraldo,"  "The image of a steamboat going over a mountain is very unusual and it drew a lot of attention.  It's like a big metaphor, but don't ask me what the metaphor means, because I wouldn't know."

Watching Herzog's films, you get the sense he's not questioning himself when he's sitting there alone in front of the computer.  He embraces the loneliness!  He sees virtue in that abandoned artistic outpost.  He just writes.

This is the impression he gives his audience of film aficionados, filmmakers, directors, and writers looking for a little validation on a Saturday night...


Charles Rhoads

Monday, March 15, 2010

Welcome & Intro to Ebony Harding

So, welcome to the Sunspot Pictures blog.  I never thought blogging would be something to do for our production company and certainly didn't think adding another task to the infinite list would be prudent but after many networking events and discussions with other more savvy social networkers I figured, ok, it's time.  Essentially, you'll get to know our personalities and skills, triumphs and disasters through here.  We're looking for just as much advice as we may offer and would love to connect with many other bloggers in our industry.  All that aside, I'd like to just say that in regards to blogging, the final nail on the coffin so to speak, came from meeting another screenwriter and industry pro by the name of Ebony Harding. 

We have spent the last year attending about a million networking events of varying levels and purposes.  One in particular we follow is Indie Producer's Schmoozefest.  I believe they happen every month or two.  The last one was at a venue in Beverly Hills, an area I do my best to avoid for many reasons, that turned out to be less of an event than the last two I'd attended.  Why, you may ask?  See, these networking events tend to be filled wall to wall with film folk desperately looking for something to boost their career and rightfully so.  But it's a whole lotta gimme at these things and very little co-op or friending.  People judge each other by appearance and for the most part only talk about themselves.  I'm a conversationalist.  Granted, yes, I'm attending these things to achieve something for myself as well but I never step into a conversation with anybody asking only the question, "What can you do for me?"  I enter into conversation hoping to make a friend first and foremost, have a really good industry related discussion...well, any kind of discussion, actually...and find a way to collaborate, scratch other peoples backs while they scratch mine.  When you hear from any of Hollywood's greats they always bring up their circle of friends during their time of humble beginnings and that circle usually always consists of other successful names.  That's what I'm looking for here with this past year mainly being about introducing people to the Sunspot name and logo, our personalities, and our skills as well as connecting with potential crew members and possible money people.  We've been looking to impress and be impressed.  This particular night, however, felt less friendly and open than the others...not a whole lotta impress going on.

Until Ebony.  We were introduced by a close film connection, Crystal Callahan, who had just met Ebony herself.  Ebony mentioned she was a writer and I instantly wanted to have that discussion with her.  Finding talent in the industry, believe it or not, is almost as hard as finding money to make your film.  I wanted to hear her take on it all but was pulled away for some reason and didn't get the chance.  I told her I'd be back and got caught up in another huddle of people.  Some point later I turned to find Ebony at my side.  Instantly I knew this was a potential collaborator.  She didn't forget me and made it a point to come over to talk when most people would have just went about their business and ignored my interest.  We discussed the art of film, among other interesting topics, and I could have done back flips of excitement.  At last!  A film person willing to converse and share opinions!  And it wasn't just regurgitated trade news.  Ebony was all information and boldness.  She managed to squelch a bit of my networking cynicism that nite and I couldn't have been happier.

Some weeks passed and I found myself at Gower Studios attending New Filmmakers short film screenings.  The first batch of films had sold out so I sat inside drinking wine and chatting with the people behind the scenes of the event.  Very cool people, by the way.  Ebony was there when I walked in and we reconnected.  She gracefully watched the second batch of shorts with me and then we headed home.  That evening we covered all kinds of topics...everything from social issues to politics to film to life in LA...and I again was beyond happy to have a person willing to discuss anything and everything.  It helped tremendously that Ebony was clearly schooled in life and travel and had a great calming energy and intelligence about her.

Just the other day Ebony interviewed me for her blog.  We sat for two hours at a coffeeshop in Hollywood focused on film industry topics but also having the usual stimulating conversation.  I was honored that she'd even want to interview me in the first place so it turned out to be a great experience.   By the time we parted ways Ebony had a few pages of my opinions in her notebook and we had the beginnings of a possible writing group in the works.  (I say possible simply because time moves faster than the Road Runner in this city so I'm sure we'll have to find a way to beat that race to make our group come together).  I set up a blog for Sunspot based on this almost instant sort of trust I had in Ebony's taste.  If she was blogging then maybe we should too.

Now we're up and running and it's refreshing to have somewhere to expose my thoughts.  I look forward to collaborating with Ebony in the future and staying connected through our blogs at the very least.  Finding one gem in the middle of a pile of coal, I really have to say, makes the mining worth the hardship. - TKS

Ebony's blogspots:

http://newwave-film.blogspot.com/
http://thewayoftheartist.blogspot.com/

Nicktales: Journey to the Dimension of the Rich

My name is Nick Harris.  I have been a DP and camera op for about 6 years now.  For the most part my blog posts will revolve around new camera tech, workflows, lighting tips, and all the sorts of things one might expect from a blog posting DP; HOWEVER, I thought I'd start us out with a selection from a series of my favorite camera related stories I like to call "Nicktales".

Nicktales is all about the weird, awkward, borderline David Lynch-esque situations one can find themselves in when indulging in our line of work, and of course, my own social faux pas will be a big part of the Nicktales experience.  For the first episode of Nicktales, I present...


"Journey to the Dimension of the Rich"

There's been a long standing truce between myself and the night club scene. I stay away from them, they stop egging my mother's house, everybody wins.  When it comes to swanky nightclubs, I always felt the overwhelming sense that everybody knows I just shouldn't be there. I'm never prepared, I don't usually own slacks, and in the event that I AM, for one reason or another in posession of a pair of slacks, whenever the time of need rears its promises-of-socially-awkward-moments head, they're nicely crumpled into the smallest ball in which they can continue to exist as "slacks" on the bottom of the pile of clothes I never wear that lines the floor of my closet.

So of course, when I drive out to Vegas with my producer to shoot a reality pilot involving an ex playboy model turned interior decorator to the stars, I neglected to even look for the crumpled wad of "pants?" in the depths of no man's land.

We get out there, we do the shoot, everybody's happy, the footage looks great, the content works out very well, and we are all ready to kick back and celebrate. It also happens to be the executive producer's birthday, so of course -- things are going to get out of control.  It's just a question of how much and who will lead the charge?

The woman we came to shoot happens to be personal friends with the owner of Caesar's, and reserves us a couch in the VIP section at Pure, the night club attached to the casino. Now, I'm no club aficionado, but even I know Pure is supposed to be the hotness.

Of course, now I've got to do the pants dance and go buy some overpriced slacks from the hotel mall in hopes of being able to return them the next day because I'm pretty sure the VIP night club lifestyle ain't gonna be following me back to California, and my need for slacks will be reduced to the usual two times a year.

So, Pure...

First off, this place looks like they hired Apple to design it. Everything is white, which I assume lends to the real mind stretch of a name "Pure."  I think they probably paid Steve Jobs to come in and "bless" the walls with his own, personal brand of Apple-CEO holy water (which we'll just refer to as "Apple juice") so it could even smell like Apple (because we all know Apple juice smells like success, PURE success)!

We get in and sit down. Motioning to the throngs of dancing people below, I lean over to my producer and jokingly whisper "Heh, I bet they all know I don't belong here." I look at this place like I'm in the  fourth dimension. The things these people worry about in their lives, their concerns, trials, tribulations (if there are any), all revolve around things I could never understand... I could put money down that at least one person in this place owns or has access to a jet pack. 

My own fish out of water experience aside, the bottles continue to come and my cup never sees the bottom until I'm completely sloshed, and I find myself dancing with this interior design chick on top of the couches in the VIP section. Now before I get the part of the story worth telling, Please allow me to describe the VIP section for you all.

1) It's elevated for the purposes of putting the celebrities that party there on display, so EVERYONE in the club can see you.

2) Each section has a three-tiered couch that is fun to dance on when you're drunk.

3) Each of these sections are separated by a curtain, which looks as though it may have a short wall behind it, a grave misconception on my part.

The interior designer excuses herself to the bathroom, and I decide that I'd like to lean against my friend, the wall. Only, when I went to lean back... there was no wall. My friend had deserted me when I needed him the most!

All of a sudden, to the chagrin of those below, 230 pounds of Nick Harris comes crashing down on 3 unsuspecting, but apparently "very important" people (since I must assume that I am of a small percentage of nerds that manage to penetrate the barriers of the VIP dimension).

The world slowed, and I was witness to a wonderful display of pure whiteness bathed in blue-hued light, as the curtains came fluttering down around me, arms stretched out in helpless, disoriented confusion.

When the dust cleared, and I had my wits about me once more, there were three unhappy people underneath me, and my benefactors helping me out of the pure-womb that I'd only just begun to know.

I had managed to rip a majority of the curtain rails out of the ceiling. Apparently their construction team didn't take into account unimportant-proofing their important people cage.

So of course, by the end of the night, the whole club was very much aware that I was just a visitor in their world, but guess what? I didn't caaaaaaaare, I was hammered!  So i stood back up, had a good laugh at my own expense, and probably pointed it out to more people than had actually even noticed... it became somewhat of a badge of honor I suppose.

That's all, I destroyed the VIP section at a rich people place and I find that amusing. I guess I could have just said that from the beginning and spared the 7 of you who read this the 3 minutes i stole from your life. Sorry!
Until next time...
-Nick

Wrestling an Invisible Bear or Letting a Scene "Unravel"

Clint Eastwood has often said that rather than instructing his actors precisely how they should move and react in a scene, he likes to allow them the opportunity to enter the scene and do what they feel most comfortable doing.  Allowing the scene to "unravel" he'll follow the actor, and let the camera go where it will go.

From the screenwriting side of the canvass I found myself in a similar situation.  It's act 2, everything's coming together, a torrent of material ballooning in my head, waiting to get out, accumulating, building pressure while it waits behind process.  Process tells me to stop.  Calm down.  Review the notes and the structure, make sure you don't miss anything, and for that matter, run through all the notes all the way through the end just to make sure you don't burn past some important details you'll have to kludge back in later.  I go through the notes, and I'm quickly overwhelmed.  There's too much!  How will this detail even fit with that one?  How do I change course in the script so I can fit this in later? 

I get up, pace around, use the bathroom, run down stairs, shuffle through the pantry, come back up.  I put on the Charlie Rose Clint Eastwood interview included on the Mystic River blu-ray.  I watch 2 and a half minutes and turn it off.  I am wrestling an invisible bear.

Finally I click on the Final Draft file and start typing and a leak springs.  It gushes out.  1 page, 2 pages, 4 pages -- the details take care of themselves systematically, because when you're on the ground, in the moment, in the scene -- this ought to follow this, and you ought to try that out here because there's an opportunity there and you should take it.  The structure goes up and the extraneous wood doesn't get used. 

Now this doesn't mean it's all right or perfect, or that notes and proper structuring doesn't have it's place.  After all, the ideas aren't all just waiting on the edge of the plank waiting to jump in the script.  You have to remember them to get them out.  But sometimes when there's so much inside, waiting to get out, the best solution is to find the frayed end of that massive ball of string, and simply start unraveling.

Charles Rhoads