Tuesday, August 29, 2006

TGITIFF!

It's coming.

No, not the Hollywood Blockbuster, "Broken Karr: The John Mark Karr Story" (what is it that makes 3-name guys psycho?). The industry's sensitivity and etiquette will surely stall this producton for at least 3 months before exploiting this nutjob's desperate attempt for his 15 minutes, which, not surprisingly, is older than he likes his women.

I'm talking about THE Film Festival. I call it that because it's the most important festival I've been to (LA fest, for all it's charms, is a distant second), and it's the closest fest of any consequence geographically (sorry, Hamilton Film and Video fest).

I've armed myself with a festival pass, a comfortable day pack, some culturally relevant sunglasses, and closed-toed shoes (it's chilly in the Varsity). Ready? Steady? It's movie-watchin' time!

While I love any excuse to bunker up in a dark room with a Bilbo Baggins-sized tub of popcorn, the festival signals a chance to see films that won't hit the cinemas, and, because I'm too lazy to seek them out, films I'd likely never see otherwise.

Last year's Danish "Pusher" trilogy is a great example. Note: Link is to the original - Pusher 2 and 3 get better and better and round out this gritty Tarantinoesque (the next term on my list to die) spectacle of everything gangsteriffic.

I've also signed up for TIFF's festival blog page. While I'm not contractually obliged to do so, I will attempt to summarize each day's viewing, meetings, parties, and overall experience of pretending I belong in Yorkville.

As things come up, they shall be reported. I'm crazy swamped until the 7th with some freelance copy gigs (bills can be paid, kneecaps safe another month) and finishing up the two scripts I promised before the festival begins.

So for all those who aren't able to attend TIFF, saddle up and stay tuned for a fringe observer's wide-eyed wanderings around the greatest festival on Earth.

And no, if I happen to run into Brad Pitt, I won't tell him you said hi. I'm with Jennifer all the way.

P.S.: Why does J-Lo get to come? Selena and Out of Sight aside, she should stay home and tend to her husband, Skeletor.

Sunday, August 13, 2006

Two Things That Couldn't Wait Until My Next Post

1. GO SEE LITTLE MISS SUNSHINE.

Today. Satisfaction guaranteed. If you can tell me it isn't the best English-language film you've seen in the theater this year, I'll refund your money (not guaranteed). Now this is how you write a third act.

I'll even make it easy for you. Click here for Toronto showtimes. Now you have no excuse. Thank me later.

2. I recently watched the first season of Weeds. It was great. While surfing Defamer for my catty gossip fix, I stumbled upon an ad for Weeds Season 2, beginning this week. I clicked on the ad, and - GASP - this is what I got. I'm not sure disappointed is the correct word - enraged might better sum up my instant mood change. What the fuck is this? Are they serious? Who the fuck do they think they are? Or, more importantly, who the fuck do they think we are?

Friday, August 04, 2006

Sizzling Summer Round-up

I've decided to take a break from sweating profusely to sweat minimally and discuss the status of my three projects of interest currently cluttering desks in 'the ‘marketplace’.

Marigold Moon:

My first feature. The one that got me into the CFC, where it was workshopped and re-written. This story of female teenage empowerment managed to offend one (apparently) easily-offendable female director (no one of importance, trust me), but that draft is long gone. As it stands, it’s finally going in a direction that seems organic and feels right. I’m told that this is the closest to breaking. There is a production company keen on becoming involved. And it's funny -- the project is being championed by a female. So I guess the whole ‘you disgust me, you misogynist asshole’ thing has been rectified. Or perhaps her anger stems from somewhere else entirely...

Anyway, they are looking for a ‘mainstream Telefilm darling’ to direct. And therefore, I guess, so am I. Any mainstream Telefilm darlings reading this, feel free to contact me for a complimentary copy*!

* comes complete with low-maintenance writer and can of caffeine-free Fanta.

Chub:

Has gotten attention from a few places, mostly out west. I wonder if it’s no coincidence that Western Canada is where the script is set. I hope to be meeting with a handful of folks when they come in for TIFF. The Producer and Director for whom it was written still haven’t read Chub, but we’re working on that.

The same company we’re close with for Marigold Moon also seems to love Chub (although I don’t think they’ve read it). This has me excited, because…

I’d love to work with them. I’ve not heard a bad word about them (although opinions are like assholes…I’m sure you’ve heard), their work ethic is impressive, and most importantly, they exhibit a true passion for the projects they take on. But, ever aware I may jinx it, I shall say no more. For now.

Nannies:

My hour drama seems to have the ‘rollercoaster effect’ – and I hope it keeps this way.
After they read the short synopsis, almost everyone is interested, can see it in their head, finds it unique / familiar enough, and can see the potential.

Then, they read the one-sheet. Here’s where the coaster dips toward the screaming parents choking on their candy apples, staring up as their children plummet towards their concrete caskets.

Apparently the one sheet does not come across as well thought-out. Lots on character, little in the way of what ‘actually happens’. With this criticism, I’m afraid I agree. It’s because I wasn’t clear myself on exactly what happens, day to day, week to week. Since I’ve finished the pilot, the world and characters have flushed themselves out –and now, when people read the pilot, my hope is that the rollercoaster ascends once again (but doesn’t fall if/when Nannies is broadcast).



That’s an up-to-date update (‘to’ must feel really left out). When I left the CFC, I didn’t realize how impatient I’d be. I promised myself (and those involved) that as long as I was making ‘progress’ (whatever that means), I would be content. And, here I am, progressing, and I’m not content. Or maybe I am, but I just don’t know it. I'm not great at isolating emotions.

I was under no false notions of ‘making it’ right out of the gates. I mean, even Kobe Bryant rode the pine during his rookie season! For every Brad Peyton (aka Amare Stoudemire, Rookie of the Year), there is a Kobe (Budd=Mamba?) Now, here I am, 8 months out, dying for that moment when I can finally feel like part of the gang. It’s hard to feel like a writer sometimes. Just writing doesn’t always cut it. That being said:

My scribey-sense is tingling. I feel closer than ever before. Which means progress, right? What I wanted. So I can’t complain – I just really want to have a snappy response to ‘So, how’s the ‘writing’ thing going? Still at it? Hey, good for you! It’s important to have a hobby.’

If I have to be patient, then so does the chorus of family members/casual acquaintances that know nothing of the industry and even less about a writer’s role and realities within it. I do know that even if I have three features in production, until I make 'Father of the Bride: Jewish Edition' (maybe Mel will direct?), I’ll never be considered a success.

If that is the litmus test… then grab a brush and paint me a failure.