Post 10 - Out of Obligation

There are a set of fundamental rules for running a successful company. Tried and tested do’s and don’ts that lead to an efficient, profitable workplace.

DO provide a comfortable work environment.
DO provide staff with incentives for advancement.

DON’T force your staff into spandex, studded leather, or cutoff denim.

Whoever thought that it was a good idea to take a group that sits at a desk 40+ hours a week, nourished solely from the fruits of a fast food court, and squeeze them into nostalgic, unflattering fashions that were ugly twenty years ago, really dropped the ball on this one. Bearing witness to flesh gasping for freedom, popping and squirting out of any available gap in fabric should be Guantanamo torture, not a social activity. Watching the stockings on an overweight account exec split as she bends over to tie her rental shoes is NOT a way to make co-existing with her on a daily basis any easier. Yeesh.

The actual activity itself, bowling: not bad, wardrobe and aside. I learned two valuable lessons:

1. Work is work, and pleasure is pleasure. While intra-office social gatherings are a great way to bond, I’m always leery of those people that confuse co-workers with lifelong kindred spirits – when your entire social circle works in the same bar/office/brothel as you do, it’s time to think about branching out. Or what you did to turn off all of your old friends.

2. I am not a good bowler. Not even a decent bowler. I can throw the ball hard – but straight? That’s not as simple. I do possess some athletic ability, but as I learned, none is necessary to succeed in the game – excuse me, ‘sport’ - of bowling.

But, enough whining.

The Creators Three have been hard at work on the SELF HELP series. We’ve really been focusing on focusing – ensuring that the world and characters are serving the series, and not trying to pack every little clever gag and reference into the pilot. We’re channeling everything through what we’ve determined to be the three pillars of the series, and it has really helped to streamline the plots. It’s becoming rapidly apparent that writing has every bit as much to do with what you choose to delete as what you choose to write. The term ‘re-write’ is becoming less terrifying over time. There’s more to this, but until the dust settles, I’ll refrain.

I have a friend who’s been in the industry a long time. He was a hotshot at Alliance-Atlantis back in the day, and travels amongst the sultans of Canadian film bureaucracy. An email he sent me from Torino last week went something like this (edited for brevity’s sake):

Josh,
Italy is cool. Watching speed-skating with a dear friend of mine, Big Broadcast Executive. We were kicking around this series idea at dinner. It’s ridiculous, half-baked, and fairly cheesy. And BBE loves it! If you can get a few pages together on this idea soon, I’ll give it to him. HE WANTS TO MAKE IT.

Regards,
Josh’s Friend

A pretty interesting email. I threw up my nose at the idea, but it seemed silly not to give it a chance. We threw a one-page together, and a remarkable thing happened. I actually started to – gasp - sort of dig it. It was a tremendous relief to me. I’ve long been concerned that, if given the opportunity to write someone else’s asinine cliché, I wouldn’t be able to find something within it to hold my interest. Thank god I’ve got low brow tastes.

I’m pretty sure nothing will come out of it, but if at the very least I can meet BBE, it’ll be worth it. That, and keeping my friend happy will hopefully keep surname Budd fresh in his mind if any future opportunities arise. I was surprised to learn that the majority of young writers make excited promises but rarely deliver – and that just doesn’t make a whole lot of sense. They can’t hire me if they don’t know my work, can they?

Well, it’s certainly official. Everyone’s favorite awards farce, the Oscars, is this weekend. That glorious time of year when even the biggest cinemidiot moonlights as a film critic. My favorite is when people discuss at length films they’ve never actually seen. Going on and on about Brokeback Mountian with only People magazine’s review as a reference. There’s nothing more satisfying than hearing two young Bramptonites (sporting those tapered sideburns I despise) on the Go-Train complain about Jack Black’s snub in the best actor category.

Absolutely Not Italian Suburbanite 1: I mean, fuck, guy, the guy’s hilarious - you just gotta take a look at his body of work and…

Absolutely Not Italian Suburbanite 2: For reals, brotha. He was the bomb in that flick where the Fresh Prince is being chased by that crooked buster in a suit…


Forget the Oscars. I’m starting a Gemini pool – the only problem is that no one outside of the industry cares. How many of your friends and family actually tune in to the broadcast of Canada’s cinematic celebration? Be honest - and flipping to it during commercial breaks in “The Biggest Loser” doesn’t count. This is OURS, folks. As a nation we attempt to cling to each and every minute distinction between us and our neighbor, but somehow we’re culturally embarrassed to embrace what little homegrown content we produce.

A sad state of affairs.

What chance to we have to make a mark in this country? How can we feed our children and our expensive drug habits (we’ll be feeding theirs in years to come) without swallowing our artistic goals like an overcooked piece of pork and penning the next I-love-my-best-friend-but-they-love-some-other-jerkface Rom-Com or an Arab-Jew shoot ‘em up buddy flick – which, is years overdue, dare I say.

You know what? I’m gonna get on that. Copyright pending, people. “Jewish Jihad 1: The Temple of BOOM” – coming soon.

(Writer's note: I was all ready to call it 'Hamas-ter of Terror-monies', but I deemed it kinda lame. Good call?)