Confessions Of a Juvenile Old Movie Junkie

Growing up as a latch-key kid in Los Angeles, I had some great times.  I remember summers, when we weren’t scrounging for returnable Coke and Seven Up bottles for our candy picnics with Leah the next door neighbor, or playing TV tag in the backyard with my cousins, my sister and I would watch old movies. Shirley Temple, Danny Kaye, Bob Hope, Bing Crosby, Boris Karloff and the like, helped us pass the time.  They were always there, ready to entertain, and guaranteed to be funny, or brave, or adventurous– and dare I say at times, scary?  They were my babysitters and my sleep aids. My friends that kept me company when I was sick, and quite unexpectedly, my film school teacher.

Time  would pass and I would go from trying to memorize “You remind me of a man? what man?  The man with the power? What power, The Power of Hoo doo. Who do? You do. Do what? Remind me of a man” and weather it was the Vessle with the Pestle, or the flagon with the dragon was the one with the brew that is true– to noticing the shadows as Barbara Stanwyk ran through city Hall to stop Gary Cooper from jumping from the roof on New year’s eve.

To old movies, I owe a debt of gratitude, because in part, they made me who I am. They gave me a love for character, for compelling stories, for composition and my sense of vibrant color. (long before I discovered animation, I fell in love with Technicolor) So I was delighted to meet Gary Sweeney who parlayed his love and knowledge of old movies into a beautiful website called The Midnight Palace.  It’s a great place for anyone who wants to learn about the golden age of Hollywood.

Several years ago, I was working with High school kids at my church and I told one of the girls in my group that she reminded me of Grace Kelly. Her response was “Who?”  I chuckled to myself and counted myself lucky to some degree. There was no reason I should have been introduced to those movies either. After all when I was young, even then, old movies were OOOOOOOOLD.   But I’m glad that I did see them, and I’m glad to know there’s a wonderful web site out there that commemorates them.  I encourage all of to stop by The Midnight Palace by clicking on the picture of Audrey Hepbern above and take a look!

My Trip to the Hollywood Film Festival

Its something you don’t think about during the festival.  It seems that, as a filmmaker, all you can see is your film’s flaws and how seemingly how much more brilliant than you is other entrant’s films…  

I realized after attending the Hollywood film festival, that it was a very wonderfully cool thing to be an official selection.  To get a spot is highly competitive due to the small number of slots.   After seeing many of the films in the festival, I was really astounded with the talent that was out there. It was so cool–Witt’s Daughter was among them!

MURPHY’S LAW

 The day of the festival opened with a disaster!

My printer had stopped working.  It does this every now and again—my lovely Epson printer decides to only print half an image.  Which is annoying, and made even more so when I used my limited supply of 19×13 inch matte paper to print my poster.  To make matters worse, I had to attend an event for two hours in Los Angeles (with 40 minute commute) and I was trying to go to the film festival starting at 2:00 pm.  By the time I got the printer working, printed a poster, small hand outs and business cards, I didn’t get to the Arclight in Hollywood until closer to eight. The Arclight was screening the films in three of it many theatres, so the place was bustling (after all, it was Saturday night) As I rushed back and forth from the registration table and the theatre, I casually glanced scanned the crowd to see if I knew anyone.  I usually do, but in this case I didn’t.  After installing my newly mounted poster on an easel outside of a theatre, and putting fliers on the registration table I realized that since I had a couple of hours to kill before the Witt’s Daughter screening, I could attend another filmmaker’s screening I chose Sherman’s Way: the story of an uptight and by the book young man who decides to turn down a prestigious internship gotten him by his oppressive and influential mother and chase after a girl to California.  When that doesn’t work out, he spends a week helping a burned out Olympic skier restore a convertible MG to give to the skier’s estranged son.  The performances were nice and the story was entertaining and heart warming.  The filmmakers had a question and answer afterwards, but I couldn’t stay because I had to meet folks who were coming to the Witt screening.

 It was nice to see so many of my friends come out to see the film—made even more nice by the fact that it was so late on a church night (most of the folks who came, being friends from various churches I have attended as well as the one I currently attend—thanks in part to reconnecting on Facebook)

Once again I was rushing around trying to get people shuttled to the right theater (they switched screening locations due to a sound issue) and it was funny because at that point, I did run into someone that I knew who had actually been in the same screening I attended.  

MAKE SURE YOU HAVE SOMETHING TO SAY

I was so happy to see all the people as I plopped in my chair next to my dad.  I gazed around at the folks in the chairs all there to support the film, and it felt pretty good—no—it felt pretty great! So I only half way heard the announcer as he stood in front and asked if either of the filmmaker’s were there and I absentmindedly raised my hand.  He then asked if I wanted to say something about the film. I wasn’t expecting that… I mean, I guess I should have been—but really, I should have been given notice that I might be asked to speak.  I thought about this as I later thought about the words that came out of my mouth… well, it was more like a sound… low… gutteral… and somewhat stupid sounding “uuuuuhhhhhhh…..”  And the audience laughed.  One person said, “Well, that’s something” Eventually I recovered enough to introduce the two actors that were in attendance and give God props for putting together the film that I hoped they would all enjoy.

 HORRAY FOR HOLLYWOOD?

 I wish I could say that I enjoyed watching the film on the big screen. Don’t get me wrong, it was fabulous to see the film blown up to giant film size, and amazing to hear folks responding to the funny bits in the movie.  But it was like the verse I read earlier that day from proverbs 25 that says “If you find honey, eat just enough— too much of it, and you will vomit.” Its difficult to watch a film in a new and exciting venue when you have seen it countless times in editorial.  I thought “how does Stephen Spielberg do this?’  Further more, the copy of the film was a disappointment.  The Hollywood film Festival projected the film in one of two formats Digi Beta or Beta SP. I did not know about those formats and so I asked someone who I thought did…they didn’t and so they made an educated guess.  It turned out that I was the one who got taught the lesson.  Digi Beta is actually Digital Beta whereas Beta SP is just a plain old analogue tape.  So taking a HD tape and down converting it analogue caused the image to suffer. The colors were cartoony and very yellow, and there was funky weird pixilation in the blacks.  Sad news.  The audience did not notice it, so it was just my annoyance.  In the end, though, everyone was happy they came to see the film and then raced home to go to bed.  It was wonderful to have their support.

Oh– and I did go to see “Just One of the Gynos”  a film written by Tripper Clancy and co directed by Brandon Olive and Alex Ranarivelo.  Brandon was also the star-and he is very funny and very natural on screen.  Actually the whole cast was great.  It tells the laugh out loud story of a newly married gynecologist who has difficulty embracing a certain part of his wife’s anatomy because of work overexposure.  It was wonderful to see a saucy quirky and sweet hearted story told through the eyes of marriage– and to me, it made it not a raunchy taboo subject, but a funny and sympathetic one.  

I had lunch with the directors afterwards and Brandon gave me some great advice on being a director working with actors.  He said, something like, if the actor is not giving you what you want, take them aside and ask them “what are you thinking right now?”  Help them get to what you believe the scene is supposed to be emotionally with questions about that particular emotion. For example if the scene is a sad scene, say “what makes you sad?” and if they say something like “homelessness” you say “come on that doesn’t make you sad–What makes you sad?” and then keep pressing them on it until get to the root of what really makes them sad “that my mom is back home and I am here–”  “thats not it–really, what is it?” actor response “that I moved away and left her” (by this point the actor is really sad and you then send them into the scene to act with that.  I asked, “doesn’t the scene have to be about the scene?”  (being that we are both fans of method acting) He said, yes, but in the end, its about getting what you need on screen if the actor is not giving you what you want. And besides, sometimes in life, we respond to people based on other things that are not about the particular event at hand.  It was actually a pretty cool connect the dots moment for me.  Because that is what I do for my writing.  I ask myself this question “What’s important to you about_____”  and it starts at the macro and then works it’s way to the micro, and that way, I actually find the important idea that I want to build to in the story– the theme.  

There’s always a last minute thing-isn’t there?

Getting Ready For my First Film Festival

Yesterday I went to pick up my tickets to the Hollywood film festival.  I was kind of puttering around all day, knowing that I had to pick up the tickets, but not in any particular rush to get there.  My dad called me around one-ish to let me know that he was there, and that if I faxed my ID to the Film festival Office in Beverly Hills, that he could pick the tickets up for me.  I looked across the room and sized up the prospect of hooking up the fax and then thought, “Well, I’m going to have to make the hodge over to my father’s house anyway to pick up the tickets—so, I might as well make the trip to Beverly Hills instead.  It was a nice day, and I was yet to be out in it. 

It wasn’t until I left the house in the San Fernando Valley at 3:14 that I remembered that the office in Beverly Hills closed at 4:00, so now I actually had a bit more sense of urgency.  Traffic was pretty light- thank God, as I made my way over the 134.  This time, I decided that I would take Sunset all the way to Beverly Dr. instead of using the directions Mapquest gave me (which more often than not seem to take you the most congested route) Even still, it was a slow race on Sunset.  I tried to keep my cool—after all, it was my fault for not remembering the cut off time—I sure didn’t want to have to schlep back the next day. Traffic seemed to thin out somewhat once I passed Doheny and I dropped down neatly from Sunset on Beverly, turning right and then crossing Rodeo to Camden.  My father had told me about a free parking lot directly across from the building (well, at least for an hour), so that’s where I parked.  It was 3:56.

When I got to suite 600, the lobby was a bustle with commotion.  The receptionist directed me to a young woman in black pants who was rushing through the explanation of the tickets she had in hand.  I squeezed in next to a pretty blonde young lady named Christine who was there with Brandon, the lead and co producer of “Just One of the Gynos” he asked good questions.  Actually—what he did was repeated back exactly what he heard to be clear.  Something I often have to remind myself to do—rather than presuming.  I was glad that he was there to do that, I was a little out of it, having not eaten more than two carrots that day and fighting allergies. Basically, the drill was, that each VIP pass allowed the filmmakers to go to any screening they wanted to for free. That they could put up a mounted poster in front of their theatre thirty minutes before the screening, that there would be an awards announcement on Sunday in the Movie theatre bar, and on Monday, there would be a star studded gala event with an after party in Beverly Hills.  (But make sure to get their before the limos or else you’ll get stuck in the red carpet throng.  It was kind of exciting—but again, I was a little out of it because of the afore mentioned issues.  The young lady stopped her explanation and took questions.  One older gentleman was pretty perturbed that he couldn’t get more tickets to the thousand-dollar Gala for free, and questions arose as to what the capacity was of the three theatres—something I would have never thought to ask.   I asked if there was a way to find out who was sitting at our tables at the Gala so we could see their movies to have something to talk about—she didn’t know. The festival coordinator then took the ID’s of the folks who had straggled in late—of which I had been one.

A few of those guys had been the indie frat boy types.  As the woman started to take ID’s they pushed their way to the front of the line to be the first to hand in their ID’s.  After the girl went back through the large wooden office door, though they did not know Brandon and Christine they zeroed in on them, asked them what film they did and if they were going to the opening film festival that night.  When they got their answer, they invited them to an after party they were sponsoring.  It was kind of funny to see the (frat) guys had that level of indifference to the others around them who overheard the singular invitation.  I rose from the couch and made polite conversation with a young woman who was picking up tickets for her boyfriend while babysitting another friend’s little girl.  Eventually the small talk died away and I returned to the couch next to Christine.  She was very friendly, and when I told Brandon that I was thankful that he had asked his question we exchanged information about our films.  I had actually heard of his because of the message board on Without A Box, so it was nice to put a name to a face.  Eventually the young lady came out with more tickets and she went through the whole spiel again, which was nice, so I was able to pick up what I missed.  The frat boys left, turning to Brandon and Christine saying “See you tonight.”  After they left, I chatted with the two a bit longer.  They were a nice couple.  And at the end, Christine said, “We’ll see your film.”  I had already said that I would try and go see theirs. 

It should be an interesting time.  

Great Reviews Coming in!

Reading This Blog post May Help a 78 year old Man

There were still some of the old Guard in animation when I graduated from school.  Men who had done great work on films going back as far as Snow White.  But as talented as they were as artists, they weren’t very forward thinking when it came to encouraging new                                     talent as it came to them.  

I recall being told by one older gentleman “You’re a wonderful draftswoman, but you’ll never get a job at Disney because you’re Black and a woman.”  Of course I was appalled but figured success would be the best response, and God proved to have the last word on that.

     

A more recent picture of Corny than I remember him

One of my early jobs, was not at Disney, but at Marvel Animation, where I met a wonderful old guy animator who was not at all like the other old guy animators I had met. His name was (and still is) Corny Cole. With his wild salt and pepper hair He was a funny rumpled dude who I remember always in an big green khaki jacket with gaping bulging pockets, and one of those floppy hats that you see on fly fisherman except with no lures.  He was fun and he could draw like crazy.  Corny was one of those guys who always had time for you, no matter who you were, and was as willing to help you with a drawing as chat with you about any funny little thing.  I recall flipping some animation he did of some pigs playing volley ball with their snouts from a scene he animated for a commercial. It was amazing– and all the more so, because he had done it in ball point pen!  Yet with his quiet confidence, he was a humble fellow.  He was a great guy to meet when I was just a green twig out of school and he made me feel comfortable.  

So when I read about how everything Corny’s home and everything he owned (including his pets) perished in a recent fire in Marek, and someone asked me to share about it, I was only too happy to do so.  I have often joked about wanting to have a clean slate, where everything just up and disappears– but a joke is one thing– reality is another.  sixty years of Corny’s drawings have gone up in ash and smoke.  (Video KTTV) Cal Arts, the school I attended, where Corny now works, has set up a fund for him should anyone want to contribute.  The Creative Talent Networks has set up a Pay Pal Account that accepts donations.  Or if you want to call Cal Arts their number is 661 255 1050 and ask for the Character Animation department.

Witt’s Daughter Reviews coming in

How exciting!  I am starting to get reviews from folks who have seen the movie and they are so very positive! (and no, its not my mom– she’s passed on) Since they have been calling or writing, I have asked them to write a few words that I can share on the website.  I look forward to being able to share them with you!  And now I will go have a celebrational bowl of Oxtails and Greens…  Yeah I said that… oh come on, don’t be that way– You would like them if you had them.

And now I will go have a celebrational bowl of Oxtails and Greens…  Yeah I said that… oh come on, don’t be that way– You would like them if you had them.

Witt’s Daughter: From Animation beginnings to Live Action New Beginnings

The Make up Artist

Every bit of this process was new to me, even make up.

My first choice to do make up on my film was a young woman I had met by God’s providence when she was looking for someplace to stay for several weeks while she attended the Westmore Academy of Cosmetic Arts.  She had never done it before but had come out here to learn to do make up for photo shoots and took to it like a fish to water. However, she was getting married so she was totally out of commission.  I next tried my cousin, a high fashion make up artist who works for Smashbox.  She announced to me that working on movies was like watching paint dry (she has since reconsidered her statement) but she would ask around for me.  Meanwhile, another friend of mine who was a professional freelance Make up Artist, suggested that I post a listing at Make Up Designory located in Burbank. 

I contacted Amanda in their Alumni dept.  She was courteous and very willing to help.  She directed me to give her the following information to post for alumni.

Shooting Dates

Pay Rate plus copy meal and credit

Amount of actors and types (ie, male, female, children)

Synopsis of the story.

Once that information had been filled in, she would post it on the board. 

I had worked out my schedule so it was easy to tell her the shoot days, (including the day off) and the pay rate, as I understood it for a just graduated student, sometimes one could pay the kit fee which would be anywhere between  $25-$50.  I had several girls respond to my ad.  One of them said that she was worth more than I was willing to pay and couldn’t do it for less than $75.  (Can’t blame a girl for asking) I thanked her for her interest and told her I would have to decline (can’t blame a girl for saying no, either) The other girls I saw were nice folks but I wasn’t seeing what I needed.   I know I had no right to be choosy, I was paying nothing and was running right up to the start of principle photography– But I just wasn’t seeing what I needed to see. I had been told by my freelance make up friend that shooting for HD video required a special touch.  Because HD videos like an ACX-ray she said, placing the emphasis on the “AXE”.  Eventually my cinematographer, Jeffrey Siljenberg, gave me a name of someone he had worked with on his previous project The Cellar Door Her name he said, is Lisa Lash.  I hired her two days before shooting.

When I spoke with Lisa, she wasn’t wild about the price.  I admit that $50 bucks a day was low.  But she agreed to do it because she liked Jeff.  The only thing she asked for in return was a Call sheet so she could claim the hours for getting in the make up union. (it turns out that  Lisa was a recent MUD graduate, herself) She was actually a lawyer, but had decided to make a career change to do film make up, and YES, Lisa Lash was her real name. 

Lisa would show up about a half hour before the first actor. I learned not to schedule all the actors to come at the same time so they did not have to wait around.  Also, in the professional world, the clock starts ticking when they step on set, and you have eight hours before you have to start paying them overtime and making sure they have a second meal according to SAG rules.  Lisa was fast, she needed about fifteen minutes for the men and more time for Mandy and Alia.

When she showed up, she was very professional.  She asked for a space to work (which for the first day happened to be outside as the room that would become the greenroom was still being occupied by my roommate who was moving) While I bustled about getting things ready for the shoot she stopped Jeff and asked him his thoughts which was the first time I realized that I had a say in just about everything in the film.  I don’t know why it did not occur to me that I would have to tell Lisa how I wanted my lead to look.  I overheard Jeff mentioning that Witt was back from the war and needed to look severe. Or something to that effect.  But that was not the picture I saw of him in my head. I wanted Witt to look like a boy.  Even though I had cast an older looking young man, I still wanted to preserve the youth about him as I thought it would show his inexperience as a father. I showed her a picture of a friend of mine Sam Mckim. 

With his movie star good looks Sam Mckim had been a child actor and was not shy of the camera.  So when he went off to Korea himself in the 1950s, he looked more like a leading man than a soldier.  Lisa took one look at the picture and said about Adam So you want me to preserve his freckles?  Which was a great observation, as I had not noticed Adams freckles.  Another thing she would be vigilant about was the lines in Adams forehead.

Lisa was amazing on the set.  Not only was her work fabulous, but she fun to be around, took ownership in the project, always looked for ways to contribute outside her union (which is so awesome on a small set) and was incredibly vigilant.  Quite often before shooting a take Lisa would pipe up “Last looks” and dash onto the set to powder, buff or reapply.  Yes, there could be lots of waiting around on the set, but Lisa was certainly one of the people who always found something to be doing.

I am Gladiator: Finding A Story to tell pt2

You know what’s entertaining, Carole, do what’s entertaining to you”  Glen Keane, Director of Disney’s Rapunzel.

Glen had said that to me years before when I asked him how to make something entertaining.  It was a lesson that I was perpetually in need of remembering, and no was no different.  

That I had bricked myself into such a tiny little box of technique and artifice, no inspiration was going to get in, let alone an idea with any spark of imagination get out. I had read so many books on craft, gone to seminars on story, knew about A plot B plot, back-story, theme and wants, shape shifting characters revealing themselves by page seventy two sending the scene from a positive to a negative charge that I had no ability to see a simple story.  Plus, to add to it, I was trying to write a comedy because the man who was potentially going to play the part was funny guy.  I, while being mildly humorous from time to time am most decidedly not.  I was lost.  Here I was at the first hurtle to being a director, and I couldn’t even get on the track to run.

 I tried to convince my roommate to write the script and I would direct it. She would never say no, but she never said yes either. Eventually I knew that if I was going to direct something–I was going to have to come up with it. So faced with the problem of having a fancy new car, a party to go to, but no gas in the tank: I started to iron my laundry.

 While I was ironing I put in video of “Untouchables, a movie made back when Kevin Costner made it cool to be a family man and Giorgio Armani used the film to show off his men’s line of clothes.  The movie had been a favorite of mine at the time.  I loved the clearly defined characters, and my favorite scene in the movie was where Elliot Ness put his daughter to bed and gave her butterfly kisses. To me it was such a paradox, this big law man and this little girl and him being so tender with her.  As I watched the movie I thought about that.  I thought about it because it was something to which I always responded.  

 Many years before, I had done an exercise to discover what my internal “stories” were.  The ideas to which I tend to gravitate.  I had read in some book (surprise surprise) that I should take a piece of paper and give myself ten minutes to write down every thought that comes to my mind. Then to divide those memories into themes. The biggest one for me was the strength of the parental bond.  Which made my affection for that scene from “Untouchables” make sense.  One of my favorite movies was “Searching for Bobby Fischer” where even though I’ve seen it many times, every time the little boy can’t see the chess move to make against his opponent his voiceover says “I’m sorry dad” I cry — even now just thinking about it, I’m misty. Captain Von Trapp from “Sound of Music”, Leon from “The Professional” and others to name a few.  All parents… mainly men and all of them with some sort of heaviness they had to overcome to be a parent.  As I stood there ironing and watching the Canadians chase the illegal liquor sellers back on the bridge before Elliot Ness could arrest them and the shoot out that ensued, I realized something else– I loved to cry– don’t get me wrong– I have a laugh that every one knows… in fact its notorious… when I choose my entertainment, I want something that will make me weep.  I like the catharsis.  I thought, “Wait a minute– I’m trying to do a comedy to suit my friend… But– I’m directing and producing this movie– I should make a drama to suit me.

Slightly before this time, I had rediscovered Gladiator.  I had not liked it when it came out.  it was too much blood and gore and shouting with the guy dying at the end for me so I dismissed it.  But several months before I came to this place where I was ironing and coming up with ideas, I had watched it and realized, it was not an action movie– it was a family story.  This man was a soldier who wanted to go home to the family he loved and eventually got to. It became my new favorite movie. So after I watched Untouchables I popped in Gladiator.  And with the scene of the Elliot Ness putting his daughter to bed still fresh in my head and Maximus the Spaniard riding his horse to death to get to his family I began to think.

“What if Gladiator came home to a little girl, who he had sung to sleep as an infant in a warm little room with all her toys around her–this little girl who was the center of his life that he couldn’t wait to see.  What if he was freed from his charge after his duty only to find and she wanted nothing to do with him”

After all, I had heard a story like that, a friend’s father had been stationed abroad and his three year old rejected him when he came home.  Other male friends would later tell me about the time their three year old freaked out because they had been gone for work for several months and the child had forgotten them. FORGOTTEN THEM.

And that is where I found my idea.  It was like a floodgate opened.  My brain started firing.   I looked around at what I had access to.  I had to give myself some boundaries.  After all, I only had a certain amount of money– yet I was going to take the setting of my friend’s father who had come home from the Korean War.  I would be doing a period piece.  The house would be no problem, it looked old enough.  The furniture– well, I was covered there to, I had inherited family antiques.  I used to wear fifties clothes so I was covered for costumes and what I didn’t have, I could make.  Over the next six months, my mind began to see the characters in my story walking through the house, I could see my friend\’s bright blue Sunbeam Alpine cruise into the driveway– and if I stood in just the right place, I could see it without catching the Toyota Camry across the street.

 I started writing.  Not a script, a short story. 

“Witt wasn’t big on spectacle, Even in high-school when he played on the football team, he played defensive secondary.  Right in the thick of it, in the game and under the pile.  He was a pillar, but no body noticed it  and he liked it that way. He was a big guy.  Blond haired and rough, but something about the army uniform gave him an air of respect.  He didn’t tell May he was coming home for that reason.  May was always up to something.  She was always the center of excitement.  That’s what he loved about her. When they walked into a room all eyes were on him and it was okay with Witt. Not because he had the prettiest girl in town, but because while everyone was captive in her thrall, he could slink off to the punch bowl…”

Over time, as the script evolved as it went from pre production to production, I realized that as I was including people into my vision, that they had ideas too.  But I had to be careful, I didn’t want their ideas, no matter how wonderful, to derail me from what had gotten me going in the first place, so I put Maximus the Spaniard on my desktop to remind me where I started.  The picture did another thing too– something I had not expected– it helped me remember when times got tough at one point I had been hopeful.  

Eventually, Maximus came down.  I realized I no longer needed Director Ridley Scott’s vision to propel my own.  I replaced him with the poster of my film.