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a thank you to Roger Ebert.

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I'm pretty sure everybody that has had, at the very least, a sliver of interest in the movies and the language of cinema has a story to share about Roger Ebert.  

Whether it was about influence, or insight, or passion, or disagreement, Roger Ebert was big time.  

He loved movies so much, that it's inconceivable to think of any figure in these modern times, to exhibit the same anti-cynicism and commitment to cinema.  Almost all of us are in a sort of ambivalent love affair with movies these days.  For all the never ending enthusiasm and commitment to reach higher, there is always the death knell, the Holy Motors sign off.  Which was quite convincing by the way (btw ya’lls).

Somehow, both views fit.  But, it is fitting and sad, that Ebert, along with the rest of the classicist have now passed.  These were figures of what can be now called, "the good old days".  And we can cherish that, because its history has been written.  A place exists for the past.  It has happened, and it was witnessed.  The future however, is always a place of uncertainty.  Anxiety is birthed from the unknown.  And humans, given a dose of evolutionary psychology, always feel mixed about that which cannot be controlled.

The beauty of Ebert was that the man always committed to passionate thinking.  He was not afraid.  Nor was he afraid to change his mind.  

At his older age, he became a king of new media. With twitter, he could troll with the best of them.  His stance against video games as art was legendary.  Here was a man, not afraid of the consequences of thought, nor its expression.  Nor was he scared of being bullied for thinking.

Bombarded by children angered by an opinion, he pressed forward with what I can only assume was a grin.  Remember is beef with Vincent Gallo.  The man didn't back down from insults.  A classic game of "yo momma".  And he did this with a smile.  That's respectable. That’s heart.  

And no other critic could circumnavigate the mainstream all the while, championing the independent quite like Ebert. Who will ever have that leverage?  Who will ever care enough?

What a sincere love of something.  It was poetic to witness.  RIP Roger Ebert and thank you.  My mother thanks you.  She loved you.  

See you at the movies; home theater actually, because we all know that's where this is all leading, right?

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gritty handheld style it is not, asshole.

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After watching a recent Hollywood film lauded as one of the great achievements of the year (the year would be last), I did what I do when I can't seem to figure out the hype from the fact.  At the very least, my facts against mediocrity.

So, I turned into some reviews to hear the voice of the critic.  Now, I only do this after the movie.  Mostly, just to gauge the critical zeitgeist and maybe to pick up on points that I neglected, or tuned out possibly due to bias.  In fact, often, I want to be proved wrong.  I want to be moved to believe that the movie was a masterpiece and I was just being an asshole, or plainly, ignorant.

So, after flipping through a couple of these eloquent reviews, one phrase stood out from the rest, breathing fire into the cultural void of existence. "Gritty handheld style" was this very phrase.  

Everytime I read something so asinine, I want to stop and call out to my maker.  But the fact that this was repeated in no less then 5 reviews in back to back succession makes me think, that sometimes, people are in a haze of automation, devoid of anything critical, analytical, or imaginative.  

Gritty handheld style in this particular case was nothing at all gritty.  What the fuck does this describe?  Realism?  Well, in this particular case, not at all.  Does it describe fortitude or determination.  No.  50 million dollars with the best technical minds around making fiction never ever fucking equates to GRITTY.  Ever.  (well, actually, there are a couple cases historically.  this is not one.  and I'm assuming, the budget never crossed the 25million mark) 

What it does describe however, is that all these clowns picked up the same description from wherever the hell, like 10 years ago, and decided to use it again, and again, and again, and thus removing any descriptive quality about it, in favor of press releasing a review.  In today's language, this just fucking blows.

I call for an indefinite ban, and personal banishment for any hee-haw that uses the phrase, "gritty handheld style" to describe anything related to a film.  They can however, use it to describe their latest iphone video of there cat licking its nuts.  As long as the phone is not locked down on a tripod, and that it is in fact, gritty by definition.

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curiosity.

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What drives us forward?  In our younger development, we were propelled towards things in large part, because of a little thing called curiosity.  The shapes, the sounds, the textures, the possibilities of the world elicited a feeling of amazement, and a need to find out.  It was a world of endless wonder.  Limitless in scope and full of options.  A simple turn of the head informed of new opportunities.  

Then we grew up.  John Cassavetes has an interesting quote about MAN when he turns of age, and in his time, it was around 23.  I can't recall it of the top of my head, and instead of accuracy, I will paraphrase for affect instead.  Basically, he says that people lose interest in discovery around their early twenties.  All that music that got you moving, or art, or literature, or movies that challenged you, or where worthy of further investigation, all gone.  You grew up.  You put on your 3 piece, and got on with life.  The pattern, set in stone.

But what happened to life?  Curiosity was exchanged for order.  It was sold to dogma.  In our time, this process happens a little later.  Maybe in your late twenties, but possibly into you're early thirties.  We give up our search, usually by blaming the lack of time.  

Now, of course priorities change.  You have a baby, we get married, we have a multitude of responsibilities.  Shit, you have to provide for yourself.  Something that our 16 year old, first world self’s usually didn’t bother with, nor fathom its complexity.  But, what happened to the search for wonder, amazement?  Where does it go?

Do we just crawl to our evolutionary predisposition?  Does biology dictate that curiosity is not of value anymore.  “I AM WHAT I AM”, we love to say, as if, cemented from the beginning of time.

Isn't that a counterintuitive remnant of our past human life?  And here, I inject blatant commercialism that might resinate, since millions of dollars where spent to get you to buy something, by first associating two very different things.  "Stay thirsty my friends."

​a light glistens.

​a light glistens.

Much Ado About Nothings

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I spend the least amount of time I can these days going through feeds that refer to filmmaking.  

Ironically (wrong word here), filmmaking is the thing I spend most of my time doing. I just try not to pay attention to the daily "news", since I think it's a destructive habit in the long run.  Especially in a field that naturally cycles so slow. (this is obviously changing, like in every human endeavor)  

The latest fad.  The newest thing.  Something happened in crowdfunding.  Panasonic released a new 10k digital camera.  So and so just released her 10th film.

All this constant noise.  All this to do about nothings.  I think it's better to focus on the task's at hand.  In front of your face.  Or, your family.  Your world.  Your puppy. Take care of that first.  And when some time is left over, get better at other things.  

The rest of it, what Ted Hope happened to say today, or what's in the latest post at Filmmaker Mag, or what gang sign Justin Bieber threw up today  (see what I'm saying) probably doesn't matter in the big picture.

Now, I'm not saying that stuff isn't important.  It is, it's domain knowledge.  You might benefit from it.  But, not everything second.  Probably not everyday.  And, if you're trying to make a mark, like a real lasting one, why thread in the water with all the other fish?  

A little bit of Charlie Munger, Charlie Parker, and Charlie Brown will get your head clearer then your retort at someones latest blog post about NO-BUDGET FILMMAKING or HOW TO WRITE A SCREENPLAY IN 60 MINUTES.  

Stay original.  Don't worry about the noise.  Don't worry about the grain.  Grain is beautiful after all.

Biggie Arts vs Lil Arts - A fools paradise

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(note: This was inspired by reading a piece of Hugh MacLeod’s new book in progress.  I have often thought about this and it’s been heavily discussed within my inner peer group, because, well, why the hell not)

I have a friend who draws mini cartoons everyday.  He puts them up on his instagram, or website and releases them out into the world, several times daily.  It's effective, he is fast and consistent and his fan's appreciate it.  They share it, link to it.  

At first, I advised him to not go crazy with supply.  You know, hold out a bit.  I think I was a bit off on that one.  But, I’ll still argue with consistency either way, as long as you keep em coming.  Too much too fast and burnout city man, like whoa, you dig.  Too little too slow, and you're a bum.  Or, a dinosaur of old art.  

Scarcity hardly works these days like it once did, unless you established that record a decade or so ago, because frankly, abundance and choice is out of control.  And waiting is not the name of the game anymore.  I WANT IT NOW!  That’s your little inner child yelling at you.  Or, your actual child screaming in your ear.  Either way, we are in the sphere of the NOW.  Eat a spoonful, and lay back down on your coach.  It’s not going away fatass (that was clearly a subconscious dig toward the “imaginary” mailman who hasn’t taken my outgoing mail in the new place I’m staying at for a few days). 

Going back to my friend, he does what can be labeled as “lil art”.  Edward Gorey (the recipient of a recent Google honoring), Charles Schultz, Hugh MacLeod and many many other people do lil art.   Of course, the term “lil” is subjective and based on context.  Alan Moore does “lil art” compared to Dostoevsky.  But, what the hell does that mean anyway?  I’d like to define it as somehow both related to length of time to produce, and production costs.

I have a directing friend who just wrapped principal photography on a 3 million dollar movie.  He does “biggie art” compared to a Sunday editorial cartoonist, but even his 3 million dollar movie doesn’t stack up to Kathryn Bigelow’s ZERO DARK THIRTY when we talk about biggie in terms of size.   Still,  we are familiar with tons of names of biggie art.  They are part of our folklore.

The real question however is, is there are a difference in what that piece of art ( or gift if we are being generous)  provides between these two places of the biggie and lil.  Between a Charles Schultz or an Orson Welles or a Leo Tolstoy?  

Aside from the medium, and its size, nothing.  This is not as simple as I'm making it out to be, but getting past the intellectual bullshitting, it all comes down to a FEELING.  And, quality.  It’s resonance to the individual.

How did that MAKE ME FEEL.  Was I moved?  Did it connect?  

And, when it comes to that, certainly lil art has affected me just as much as biggie art. 

These days, so much of biggie art is squeezed under pressure.  The zeitgeist, especially now treats everything on the same leveling field.  So, lovers of the biggie, don't forget to look into the lil once in awhile.

Even as far as filmmaking is concerned, look into your lil cousin, television to tell you times a changing.  “Small is the New big” as that luxurious nerd brain Seth Godin states.  He probably means something else, but this isn’t his space now, is it.

"The Harlem Shake" - Don't let the silliness fool you.

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Is the “The Harlem Shake” some sort of indescribable turning point
in media?  What is the precedence?  You can call it silly, or funny, or
whatever else you’d like, but, rest assured, the engine behind The Harlem Shake is worthy of consideration.  Think about this; This little dance movement is much much bigger, both in participation and in reach than YOUR MOVIE, or YOUR MUSIC, or YOUR ART PROJECT.  And it’s not just for the little indies, this thing blows away the big boys as well; ie: The Hollywood Machine in terms action.

Think about that for a second.  Advertisers spend millions of dollars trying to get you involved with whatever it is they selling.  When was the last time a seemingly spontaneous participatory movement occurred at this level.  It takes time, effort, creativity and resources for people to join in.  And join in they do, for free.  

Remember the days when some item of fashion, or car, or dialogue from a movie made its place into the public sphere with lasting effect?  It was probably a very long, long time ago.  

So, whether you “like” The Harlem Shake or not, it’s a piece of conscious harmonizing that is almost impossible to buy with money.  Professional advertisers living in the old model can write it off, but, they’ll be writing off their own existence if they don’t consider the new models and how it affects the world we are living in today, not 40 years ago.  

And I understand that this is very short lived, but so is everything else these days.