Good morning. I'm fine, thank you, how are you?
Today I would like to talk about vanity. Not vanity in general, but my own. I am vain, I admit it. I check out my reflection in shop windows when I walk down the street. I can't pass a mirror without at least slowing down to see how I look, and I have been working hard lately to get myself back in shape.
As an actor, how I look directly affects how often I might work. My body is my tool, the canvas on which I sculpt a character, and so I have to be very aware of it, in control of it. I have to be very comfortable in it, and I haven't been as comfortable these past few years as I would like to be. Also, as an American brought up in the 20th century, I have issues with my body like everyone else.
You see I was very overweight as a child, and I still have not fully gotten over that experience. I have been struggling with weight issues since I was 7 years old. And let me tell you, being an overweight child is no fun. I was harassed by my family, I was harassed by other children, and even a few teachers got their jabs in too. Fat people are targets, easy targets, for an insecure nation. At my heaviest I weighed in at about 220 pounds. That was when I was 15. There are very few photos of me back then. I tried every diet known back then, from Dr. Atkins Diet Revolution (which became so popular again twenty years later in the carb-conscious-nineties) to Weight Watchers. What could be more fun for a 12 year old on a Saturday morning than to go sit in a room with a bunch of overweight middle-age ladies and hear a motivational pep talk at Weight Watchers? Then be applauded at the scale for losing weight the previous week? Go ahead, make my week! They all worked for awhile, but I was a yo-yo, up and down, up and down.
When I was fifteen, I was taken to see Dr. Happy, who prescribed "diet pills", (narcotic amphetimines), to help me lose weight and stop looking like a blimp. They worked for my Aunt Madeleine, and they worked very well for me too. Dare I say extremely well. Maybe even too well. I lost a lot of weight, but had a lot of sleepless nights, and continue to grind my teeth even now, thirty years later.
Like all fat teenagers, there was no more hated time than the dreaded GYM class. Being made fun of in the locker room or the shower was enough to make me cut gym and or cut school altogether. (Do kids still say "cut" class? I hope so.) I couldn't run, I couldn't play basketball, there wasn't a single sport I was good at, except binge eating. In that I excelled. Until I met Dr. Happy. Dr. Happy changed all that with his magic pills and his advice at my bi-weekly weigh-in. I remember the Dr. actually smoked during my visit, as he looked at my chart, made a few notes, and asked me how I was feeling. I was hip to the game after awhile, so I told him the pills were no longer working as well, I needed more, and asked him to up the dose, which he usually did. Ah, Preludin, you were my best friend in high school. Did you see Aronofsky's Requiem For A Dream? Remember when Ellen Burstyn visits the diet doctor, gets the speed pills, and eventually gets really paranoid and goes crazy? That was me. Good times.
But I digress. I started talking about vanity and got sidetracked by my history of being overweight. It is important though, because even though I eventually shed most of the weight and was to most casual observers, thin, the effect on my body image has never really healed. Even though at long last I was within the norms of the Insurance Industry's height/weight charts for my height/weight, I still thought of myself as fat. That must be pretty common, like phantom limb syndrome, phantom fat syndrom.
The world looked at me and saw a thin person, but I didn't. I'll never forget the thrill I felt as I was being arrested in New Orleans one time and the booking officer called me Slim, as in "Hey Slim, let's see a profile". Was he talking to me? I was in heaven! I was really at the central police station, but it was heaven to me.
Shedding a fat body image is a difficult thing to do, but I think I am finally close to accepting myself as the newly thin person I am. Which leads me back to vanity.
So, I was thin for many years, and I felt good. I traveled around the world, I was athletic, I worked out, I had many girl friends, I went back into theatre, studied mime and physical theatre in Paris, and oh, did I mention I had many girl friends? For a fat kid who had a hard time talking to girls, that was huge.
Eventually I moved back to Chicago, where I met Kris and we married. I was an actor at first, but about ten years ago I quit acting and got into the film business. Working on movies is a passion for me, but with it came the crazy hours, the easy access to crappy food and snacks, and the unhealthy lifestyle that saw me care less about my body to get the job done. I went from my adult low weight of 155 up to 195 in about five years. I was embarrassed, but had no time or will power to change it. I am lucky, I guess, in that I can carry some extra weight and conceal it rather well. The men in my family all have big guts, except for my brother Steve, which is where most of my weight stuck, but it spread out pretty evenly so with a jacket and good fitting clothes I didn't look "fat".
In addition to gaining weight, or because of it, I wasn't happy with my job, I needed a change. The extra weight brought stress and the stress brought extra weight. The cycle was repeating.
Then about three years ago I got back into acting, did less film production work, and started to make decisions that were better for me. I started to listen to that little voice that tells you what you really want, what you should really do with your life. Getting back on stage again made me happy and that motivated me to lose weight. I was being seen again.
A year ago Kris and I made a huge lifestyle change; we moved to Los Angeles where I dedicate myself to acting. Los Angeles is very body conscious, in case you didn't know that. And Hollywood is quick to typecast or bodycast actors.
By the time I moved to LA last year I was down to about 180, but still carried a bit of a spare tire around the middle. Now there is nothing wrong with that, unless you don't want to carry a spare tire around the middle. It's not the healthiest way to be, and it wasn't how I wanted to look. I wanted to be thin. I wanted nice clean lines again. I wanted to be a thin person on television, not the middle-age guy with a spare tire on television.
I'm so vain, I guess I think this blog is about me, don't I, don't I?
Two months ago I saw an audition notice for a workout video. The offer was this; 8 weeks of free personal training in exchange for a committment to going a certain number of times per week and allowing before/after pictures and a testimonial. I applied for and was accepted into Ashley Marriott's Burn & Firm Training program. The duration of the program was extended to 12 weeks, and week 4 just ended.
This is the best thing I've done in a long time. It is really working out well for me. I knew I needed to work out, and I wanted to lose another 10-15 pounds, but I lacked the self-motivation to do it. I knew if I was accepted into this program and made the committment, I would follow through. I needed an external push, kind of like diet pills, only healthier. Much healthier. Ashley is wonderful; she's motivating, encouraging, is a great trainer with great information, and is helping to replace old unhealthy patterns with new healthy ones in all of us. I see the difference in my self and all the other people in the program. And, it doesn't require a class three narcotic prescription from a doctor!
Ashley's Burn & Firm program is a combination of dance steps and aerobic exercises that strengthen, tone and build endurance. The cardio work is burning fat and the strengthening work is building muscle. After the first four weeks I look better, I feel better, and I sleep better. I started the program at 171 pounds, and am now at 167. I went from a 36 1/2 waist to a 34, and also went down at my chest, thighs and hips. See, I told you I was vain. And with 8 more weeks to go, I am confident I will hit my target weight of 160, with a 32 inch waist. Then when I walk down the street and check myself out in store windows, I'll really like what I see.
Getting in shape is really getting in touch with your body and spirit. I am getting back in my body, getting comfortable in my body. For an actor, that is really important. Remember I said this is my tool, this is what I have to work with. I can't work as effectively if I am thinking about how to hide my weight, or how this costume makes me look fat. (Does this fat-suit make me look fat?) I have to take that out of the mix. There is enough to think about as it is while acting. The choices I make with my body and voice in real time are difficult enough without the insecurity of not being comfortable with my body.
So yes, I am vain, I am an actor. And I am a better actor now that my mind/spirit is more connected, more comfortable in my body, my spaceship, I travel through this life in.
I will post the embarrassing before and the powerfully motivating after pictures in approximately 8 weeks when the Burn and Firm program ends. Until then, I hope you all feel great in your spaceships and have a great time travelling through your life here on planet Earth.
Sunday, March 25, 2007
Monday, February 12, 2007
I play one on TV...
I'm not a cop, never wanted to be one, but playing one on TV is another story. I could do that all day long. Good cops, bad cops, it doesn't matter.
But I'd like to have a good catch phrase, you know, something people will remember. Like, "Book 'em, Dano", or, "Who loves you baby?" I'd like to see tee-shirts with my catch prase, and posters, and bill boards. A big bill board on the Sunset Strip of me telling the perp, "Wasn't such a good idea now was it shit-for-brains" as I cuff him. Or, "Rights? Don't make me laugh!"
Yeah, I like that.
As you can tell, I probably had a good time playing a cop on LA Forensics. Playing a cop is much better than actually being a cop, I'm sure. No one really shoots at you, the hours are better, and you always get the bad guy.
Everyone on the crew of LA Forensics was very nice, they work quick, and treated us actors well. What more can you ask for? I got to play, and that's what I'm here for.
I took a few photos while we were on set. That's me above with a badge and a gun, and then four of us in our TV cop show pose.
Hey, why do I like playing a cop so much? Is it the power a cop has? Am I becoming reactionary as I get older? Do I really wish I could carry a gun and dole out punishment to those who transgress the laws of our great nation? Man, now I'm confused. I wish I knew what was right?
"Rights? Don't make me laugh."
Wednesday, February 07, 2007
LA Forensics
Well, it's just a few weeks short of one year since I moved to Los Angeles. I am still full of certainty that it was the right thing to do and that I am on my way to getting what I want here. The pieces are falling into place.
Today I will do my first TV show in a featured role. I will be the lead detective investigating a crime on LA Forensics, a show that airs on the Court TV network. I don't know if it airs outside of Los Angeles. I watched it last night, and it breaks down a real crime with interviews with the real detectives, and filmed recreations of the crime and how it was solved by LAPD.
I am booked for three days and I'm looking forward to it. It should be some good stuff for my reel, and it should be a real hoot. I get to look all serious and play a cop on TV. While the recreations are without dialog as a voice over explains what's happening, I've already been rehearsing the lines I remember from so many cop shows: Where were you the night of...You're lying!....Come on, let me help you out here....You scum bag, why I have shit on the bottom of my shoes with more brains than you...Miss, what were you doing with six grams of crack up your ass?... The perp knew the vic...he's getting away!!!...stop, LAPD!...and other fun things like that.
I think this is my first cop role.
Book em!
Today I will do my first TV show in a featured role. I will be the lead detective investigating a crime on LA Forensics, a show that airs on the Court TV network. I don't know if it airs outside of Los Angeles. I watched it last night, and it breaks down a real crime with interviews with the real detectives, and filmed recreations of the crime and how it was solved by LAPD.
I am booked for three days and I'm looking forward to it. It should be some good stuff for my reel, and it should be a real hoot. I get to look all serious and play a cop on TV. While the recreations are without dialog as a voice over explains what's happening, I've already been rehearsing the lines I remember from so many cop shows: Where were you the night of...You're lying!....Come on, let me help you out here....You scum bag, why I have shit on the bottom of my shoes with more brains than you...Miss, what were you doing with six grams of crack up your ass?... The perp knew the vic...he's getting away!!!...stop, LAPD!...and other fun things like that.
I think this is my first cop role.
Book em!
Friday, January 26, 2007
Variety Review of Phantom Love
Phantom Love
A KNR Prods./Menkesfilm presentation of a Kevin Ragsdale production. Produced by Ragsdale. Executive producer, Julian Goldberger. Co-producers, Nina Menkes, Ragsdale. Directed, written, edited by Nina Menkes.
With: Marina Shoif, Juliette Marquis, Yelena Apartseva, Bobby Naderi.
(English, Russian dialogue)
By ROBERT KOEHLER
Stanley Kubrick's confident statement -- "If it can be written or thought, it can be filmed" -- receives stunning confirmation in Nina Menkes' "Phantom Love." While the helmer's four previous features similarly function in a state of dream logic and concern female states of being, the current pic strikingly puts a woman's subconscious thoughts and dreams onscreen in ways more radical and beautiful than in her past visually stunning semi-narrative pics. "Phantom Love" may be too rich for most U.S. distribs, but sophisticated foreign buyers and fests will lust after this piece of pure cinema.
First seen in sweaty coitus with her lover (Bobby Naderi), Lulu (Marina Shoif) appears distanced and expressionless, her face suggesting that her mind is elsewhere. "Phantom Love" is intentionally designed and structured in an open manner, welcoming the viewer to various interpretations. One of them -- implied by the title -- is that much of the rest of the film's images and sounds are the wandering thoughts Lulu experiences during sex.
These images are in black-and-white, and not since Bela Tarr's "Werckmeister Harmonies" has black-and-white looked so stunning and mesmerizing -- thanks crucially, to cinematographer Chris Soos' masterful use of high contrasts, shadows and depth-of-field in the film's majestic interior locales. Though she has handed over lensing chores this time, Menkes functions as usual as her own camera operator, displaying again her gift for framing and nimbly following spontaneous action.
This includes several extended scenes in a Koreatown casino, where Lulu works (akin to Menkes' Vegas heroine in "Queen of Diamonds") at a roulette table. Although the scenes seem at first repetitive, they are actually staged and shot with great variety, including some amazing close-ups of the excited players' faces and hands.
Like dreams often do, images repeat themselves as Lulu tries to work her way through her erotically triggered troubles. One of these involves her dressed in a classic little black dress and heels, carefully walking down a long hallway around an enormous snake. Animals abound in the film, including a fantastically viewed squid in an aquarium and scenes in which Lulu's mother (Yelena Apartseva) is surrounded by bees.
Menkes is not so dreamy a scripter that she fails to link these otherwise showy and random images to Lulu's real-life problems, some of which involve struggling with her mother who's overstayed her welcome in Lulu's home, and her emotionally troubled sister Nitzan (a fine Juliette Marquis), whose momentary disappearance marks the only point in the film where a fixed psychological reality takes the place of subconscious fears and desires.
A repeated view of Lulu crossing a bridge (ravishingly filmed in Rishikesh, India) suggests a passage to another sort of life, and, in a film intently focused on material objects and bodies, the sight of Lulu being drowned in light offers a striking spiritual note.
Actors' perfs matter far less here than their place in the overall staging, but Shoif and Marquis are allowed considerable freedom to express themselves along the lines of silent cinema (the first real line of dialogue occurs well past the 30-minute mark).
Pic triggers memories of movie images from Jacques Demy's "Lola" to Jean Cocteau's "Orpheus," and an amazing shot of a sleeping woman rising off her bed sends the viewer back to the medium's earliest days. Soundtrack, mixing sound effects and Rich Ragsdale's music, creates an audio dream state of its own.
Camera (B&W, 35mm-to-DV), Chris Soos; music, Rich Ragsdale; production designer, S. Logan Wince; costume designer, Erica Frank; sound, Ed White; supervising sound editors, Menkes, Joseph Tsai; sound re-recording mixer, Michael Kreple; visual effects supervisor, Tim Carras; line producers, Aditya Singh, Elyse Katz; associate producers, Lena Bubenechik, Paul Inman; assistant director, Natasha Subramaniam; casting, Bubenechik. Reviewed at Sundance Film Festival (New Frontiers), Jan. 19, 2007. Running time: 86 MIN.
A KNR Prods./Menkesfilm presentation of a Kevin Ragsdale production. Produced by Ragsdale. Executive producer, Julian Goldberger. Co-producers, Nina Menkes, Ragsdale. Directed, written, edited by Nina Menkes.
With: Marina Shoif, Juliette Marquis, Yelena Apartseva, Bobby Naderi.
(English, Russian dialogue)
By ROBERT KOEHLER
Stanley Kubrick's confident statement -- "If it can be written or thought, it can be filmed" -- receives stunning confirmation in Nina Menkes' "Phantom Love." While the helmer's four previous features similarly function in a state of dream logic and concern female states of being, the current pic strikingly puts a woman's subconscious thoughts and dreams onscreen in ways more radical and beautiful than in her past visually stunning semi-narrative pics. "Phantom Love" may be too rich for most U.S. distribs, but sophisticated foreign buyers and fests will lust after this piece of pure cinema.
First seen in sweaty coitus with her lover (Bobby Naderi), Lulu (Marina Shoif) appears distanced and expressionless, her face suggesting that her mind is elsewhere. "Phantom Love" is intentionally designed and structured in an open manner, welcoming the viewer to various interpretations. One of them -- implied by the title -- is that much of the rest of the film's images and sounds are the wandering thoughts Lulu experiences during sex.
These images are in black-and-white, and not since Bela Tarr's "Werckmeister Harmonies" has black-and-white looked so stunning and mesmerizing -- thanks crucially, to cinematographer Chris Soos' masterful use of high contrasts, shadows and depth-of-field in the film's majestic interior locales. Though she has handed over lensing chores this time, Menkes functions as usual as her own camera operator, displaying again her gift for framing and nimbly following spontaneous action.
This includes several extended scenes in a Koreatown casino, where Lulu works (akin to Menkes' Vegas heroine in "Queen of Diamonds") at a roulette table. Although the scenes seem at first repetitive, they are actually staged and shot with great variety, including some amazing close-ups of the excited players' faces and hands.
Like dreams often do, images repeat themselves as Lulu tries to work her way through her erotically triggered troubles. One of these involves her dressed in a classic little black dress and heels, carefully walking down a long hallway around an enormous snake. Animals abound in the film, including a fantastically viewed squid in an aquarium and scenes in which Lulu's mother (Yelena Apartseva) is surrounded by bees.
Menkes is not so dreamy a scripter that she fails to link these otherwise showy and random images to Lulu's real-life problems, some of which involve struggling with her mother who's overstayed her welcome in Lulu's home, and her emotionally troubled sister Nitzan (a fine Juliette Marquis), whose momentary disappearance marks the only point in the film where a fixed psychological reality takes the place of subconscious fears and desires.
A repeated view of Lulu crossing a bridge (ravishingly filmed in Rishikesh, India) suggests a passage to another sort of life, and, in a film intently focused on material objects and bodies, the sight of Lulu being drowned in light offers a striking spiritual note.
Actors' perfs matter far less here than their place in the overall staging, but Shoif and Marquis are allowed considerable freedom to express themselves along the lines of silent cinema (the first real line of dialogue occurs well past the 30-minute mark).
Pic triggers memories of movie images from Jacques Demy's "Lola" to Jean Cocteau's "Orpheus," and an amazing shot of a sleeping woman rising off her bed sends the viewer back to the medium's earliest days. Soundtrack, mixing sound effects and Rich Ragsdale's music, creates an audio dream state of its own.
Camera (B&W, 35mm-to-DV), Chris Soos; music, Rich Ragsdale; production designer, S. Logan Wince; costume designer, Erica Frank; sound, Ed White; supervising sound editors, Menkes, Joseph Tsai; sound re-recording mixer, Michael Kreple; visual effects supervisor, Tim Carras; line producers, Aditya Singh, Elyse Katz; associate producers, Lena Bubenechik, Paul Inman; assistant director, Natasha Subramaniam; casting, Bubenechik. Reviewed at Sundance Film Festival (New Frontiers), Jan. 19, 2007. Running time: 86 MIN.
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
Sundance 2007 - Day 5
No, we didn't get up at 7 and get to Park City by 8. We did wake by 9 and get out of the motel by 11. We are not being very good at getting up early. And why should we? We're on vacation, screw it.
Should we rush to Park City to see a movie? Nah, this will be the Sundance trip where I didn't see any movies I wasn't in. So be it.
Breakfast, er, lunch, on Main street, a quick stop at the festival store to buy a poster where we are assualted by the angry bitchiness of a woman working there (Kris - "I hope she enjoys being her all day"), and headed back to Salt Lake City. Our trip to Sundance was over. Kris' first time and she had a blast. You talk to people everywhere, everyone is in a good mood, there is so much energy, and it's all about film. So cool.
We had lunch in Salt Lake with my friend Andy, who I've known since third grade, and who was also in Footlighters with me.
Then we flew home. Uneventful.
If you have never been to Sundance, you really should try to go sometime. It is an awesome experience, especially if you are in the film biz, or just love movies. You rarely get a chance to ask a director or an actor a question after a movie, but at the Q & A's after every screening there you do. A lot of film lovers go and volunteer to work the festival a few hours a day and then get to see films and go to parties.
You see celebrities, you go to parties. It's a blast.
I'm going to start planning next years trip to Sundance, today.
Hope this wasn't too boring. I know I tend to write too much and edit too little. I love details. I love coincedence. I love telling stories.
Now I have to go back to writing about other stuff. What's next? I don't know. Tune in tomorrow and find out.
Should we rush to Park City to see a movie? Nah, this will be the Sundance trip where I didn't see any movies I wasn't in. So be it.
Breakfast, er, lunch, on Main street, a quick stop at the festival store to buy a poster where we are assualted by the angry bitchiness of a woman working there (Kris - "I hope she enjoys being her all day"), and headed back to Salt Lake City. Our trip to Sundance was over. Kris' first time and she had a blast. You talk to people everywhere, everyone is in a good mood, there is so much energy, and it's all about film. So cool.
We had lunch in Salt Lake with my friend Andy, who I've known since third grade, and who was also in Footlighters with me.
Then we flew home. Uneventful.
If you have never been to Sundance, you really should try to go sometime. It is an awesome experience, especially if you are in the film biz, or just love movies. You rarely get a chance to ask a director or an actor a question after a movie, but at the Q & A's after every screening there you do. A lot of film lovers go and volunteer to work the festival a few hours a day and then get to see films and go to parties.
You see celebrities, you go to parties. It's a blast.
I'm going to start planning next years trip to Sundance, today.
Hope this wasn't too boring. I know I tend to write too much and edit too little. I love details. I love coincedence. I love telling stories.
Now I have to go back to writing about other stuff. What's next? I don't know. Tune in tomorrow and find out.
Sundance 2007 - Day 4
Damn, Safari just crashed and I lost 30 minutes of writing on this post. I don't really feel like doing it again. So here is day 4 in a nutshell.
Woke up and watched the Bears win the NFC Championship game at a crowded Bears friendly bar on Main Street. Yeah.
Ate over priced Thai food. What isn't overpriced in Park City?
Went to the Illinois Film Office party. That was fun. Saw some old friends from Chicago. Met the new director of the film office, Betsy Steinberg and wished her well. Spoke to Brenda Sexton, the hostess, who after four years running the film office is going to move to LA and start producing. We promised her we'll take her hiking in Griffith Park, which is our favorite thing to do in LA. Spoke to Chaz Ebert, Roger's wife, who I have met several times. What a sweet lady. She was here to let everyone know Roger is doing well and to promote his Overlooked Film Festival in the Spring.
Met Jeff and Liz again for dinner at Cicero's on Main St. and then got into the Method Fest party. Kris said hello to Lou Lombardi, who played Edgar Stiles on 24, our favorite show. He was nice. Kris told him she was sorry they killed him off.
At the party I start talking to a guy, and his name is oddly familiar. Then I remember. I had lunch with him 15 years ago in Chicago. He married a woman I knew in Chicago after she moved to LA. Small world.
Back to Coalvillle for the last time. It's past midnight - I know, early for Sundance, but we have no more parties to go to, and we are going to try to get up early and see a movie tomorrow. Yeah, right.
Woke up and watched the Bears win the NFC Championship game at a crowded Bears friendly bar on Main Street. Yeah.
Ate over priced Thai food. What isn't overpriced in Park City?
Went to the Illinois Film Office party. That was fun. Saw some old friends from Chicago. Met the new director of the film office, Betsy Steinberg and wished her well. Spoke to Brenda Sexton, the hostess, who after four years running the film office is going to move to LA and start producing. We promised her we'll take her hiking in Griffith Park, which is our favorite thing to do in LA. Spoke to Chaz Ebert, Roger's wife, who I have met several times. What a sweet lady. She was here to let everyone know Roger is doing well and to promote his Overlooked Film Festival in the Spring.
Met Jeff and Liz again for dinner at Cicero's on Main St. and then got into the Method Fest party. Kris said hello to Lou Lombardi, who played Edgar Stiles on 24, our favorite show. He was nice. Kris told him she was sorry they killed him off.
At the party I start talking to a guy, and his name is oddly familiar. Then I remember. I had lunch with him 15 years ago in Chicago. He married a woman I knew in Chicago after she moved to LA. Small world.
Back to Coalvillle for the last time. It's past midnight - I know, early for Sundance, but we have no more parties to go to, and we are going to try to get up early and see a movie tomorrow. Yeah, right.
Sunday, January 21, 2007
Sundance 2007 - Day 3
Saturday in Park City and it is pretty busy. The busses are crowded, the sidewalks are jammed, and the restaurant staff don't give a damn.
Waking up and taking our time to leave the motel in Coalvillle, we drove back to the Yarrow Hotel in Park City to park the car and have breakfast. Then up to Main Street. I go to my scheduled interview with the ladies of Indie Appeal
(myspace/indieappeal.com), a sort of hip The View, or as they say, not your mother's talk show. Kris walks up to the Egyptian Theatre to get wait list tickets for a 3pm movie.
The interview goes great. The ladies, Amy, Lauren, Maura and Mecca are all really sweet and full of bubbly energy and fun to talk to. I'm getting the star treatment for a few minutes and it's great. I talked about Phantom Love, Cup Of My Blood, and my film, Slave. Fun stuff, I can't wait to do more TV appearances.
The interview was in a building on Main Street that was set up like a big promtional and swag event for invited guests only. There was a liquor sponsor, a furniture company, a water company, a clothing company, The Illinois Film Office had a booth, a Canadian diamond company, The Penninsula Hotel in Chicago, and a few others. My friend John Diggles sponsored a booth for his product. Xango, a new mangosteen drink, that is quite delicious and good for you too!
Kris talked her way past the doorman and was waiting for me downstairs on the first floor when the interview was over. Kris couldn't get wait list tickets for the film because this year they only give one per person, so no movie. I said we should go back up to 3, I wanted to introduce her to the Indie Appeal ladies. That turned into them asking to interview Kris, so a time was set and we left the Main Event building to have a coffee and look around Main Street.
There was a Starbucks on Main St. last time I was here, and it was now a local coffee place. How often does that happen? I wonder what the story behind that was?
We went back to the Main Event and watched the ladies finish their interview with some filmmakers who have a film in Slamdance, Over the GW. It looked pretty intense.
Then Kris was just about to go on set for her interview, when the press agent for the event brought up a guy (a celebrity) and asked him if he wanted to talk to the ladies? He jumps right on set an takes over, and they let it happen. The guy was Dustin Diamond who played Screech on Saved By The Bell from 1989 - 1993. Wow. I missed television those years.
It was pretty funny to watch as he talked about why he is here (he is being followed around for a reality TV show) and he did comedy bits from other movies and turned everything into a self depricating sexual inuendo. Wow.
Kris did her interview and she was great, talking about her art and her clairvoyance, and how she works the two together.
We took photos, we chatted and left.
We went downstairs to the second floor to see what else we could get from the other sponsors. I could get used to the star treatment. We talked to the Peninsula Hotel people from Chicago and tasted their amazing hot chocolate. Then had a Patron margarita, it was after 3 already, and walked to the back room by the Gold Toe sock display. The two ladies there, Jen and Ericka, were so nice, invited us to sit. I think they were happy to have company. They gave us lots of socks, and told us they get calls from stars, like this, "I'm in my closet, and it's all beige and brown, and I don't have any socks to match, can you send me 100 pairs?" And they do it. Once.
They gave us socks.
Then Jen asks Kris what she does, and Kris starts telling her about painting in reverse on vinyl, and Jen gets this weird look on her face and says, "I know you, some one told me about you." Someone who Kris doesn't know had told Jen about her paintings last year. Jen remembered her as soon as she heard the reverse painting on vinyl. That was a spooky cool wow moment for Kris.
All this has happened and it's not even 5 PM. So we leave there and go up Main Street to meet Jeff Gold and his girlfriend Liz, and a couple of other friends for an early dinner. The restaurant is Shabu, and the only reservation Jeff could get was 5 pm. This is important because later it comes up. The restaurant is very crowded and very expensive. Fine dining, right?
The food is good, the service fine, we are all talking and drinking and enjoying ourselves. The bill comes, it's paid, and two members of our table leave, and we ask the waiter for more water. Jeff leaves the table for a minute, Liz, Kris and I are there, and the waiter tells us, very rudely, that we have been there too long, our reservation was from 5 to 7, they let us stay till eight, (it's only 7:30) but they have been very generous to us and let us stay but now they have to turn the table and we have to go as he grabs the water glass away from Liz. We were stunned. The billl for 7 of us, though I didn't see it, had to be about 400 to 500 bucks. This isn't a diner. So Jeff comes back and I tell him what happened. He gets mad, Liz gets mad. We all got mad. So we said something. Jeff wantes to talk to the manager. The waiter goes away, and when he comes back he is very apologetic, but never really says I'm sorry for the way he acted, but the manager has instructed him to tell us we can stay and they would like to buy us a drink. So we take the drink, and take our time, but it was a very strange experience. A Waitergonebad for sure!
After that we had to get going to our second screening of Phantom Love, which I liked even more the second time, and this time I was invited down to the podium by the director for the Q & A. That was fun. Nina answered questions about the film.
By the time we got out of there it was almost midnight and we decided to head back to Coalville. Nothing happened on the way. We sat in the hot tub at the motel. I'm addicted to hot tubs now. That was day three.
Waking up and taking our time to leave the motel in Coalvillle, we drove back to the Yarrow Hotel in Park City to park the car and have breakfast. Then up to Main Street. I go to my scheduled interview with the ladies of Indie Appeal
(myspace/indieappeal.com), a sort of hip The View, or as they say, not your mother's talk show. Kris walks up to the Egyptian Theatre to get wait list tickets for a 3pm movie.
The interview goes great. The ladies, Amy, Lauren, Maura and Mecca are all really sweet and full of bubbly energy and fun to talk to. I'm getting the star treatment for a few minutes and it's great. I talked about Phantom Love, Cup Of My Blood, and my film, Slave. Fun stuff, I can't wait to do more TV appearances.
The interview was in a building on Main Street that was set up like a big promtional and swag event for invited guests only. There was a liquor sponsor, a furniture company, a water company, a clothing company, The Illinois Film Office had a booth, a Canadian diamond company, The Penninsula Hotel in Chicago, and a few others. My friend John Diggles sponsored a booth for his product. Xango, a new mangosteen drink, that is quite delicious and good for you too!
Kris talked her way past the doorman and was waiting for me downstairs on the first floor when the interview was over. Kris couldn't get wait list tickets for the film because this year they only give one per person, so no movie. I said we should go back up to 3, I wanted to introduce her to the Indie Appeal ladies. That turned into them asking to interview Kris, so a time was set and we left the Main Event building to have a coffee and look around Main Street.
There was a Starbucks on Main St. last time I was here, and it was now a local coffee place. How often does that happen? I wonder what the story behind that was?
We went back to the Main Event and watched the ladies finish their interview with some filmmakers who have a film in Slamdance, Over the GW. It looked pretty intense.
Then Kris was just about to go on set for her interview, when the press agent for the event brought up a guy (a celebrity) and asked him if he wanted to talk to the ladies? He jumps right on set an takes over, and they let it happen. The guy was Dustin Diamond who played Screech on Saved By The Bell from 1989 - 1993. Wow. I missed television those years.
It was pretty funny to watch as he talked about why he is here (he is being followed around for a reality TV show) and he did comedy bits from other movies and turned everything into a self depricating sexual inuendo. Wow.
Kris did her interview and she was great, talking about her art and her clairvoyance, and how she works the two together.
We took photos, we chatted and left.
We went downstairs to the second floor to see what else we could get from the other sponsors. I could get used to the star treatment. We talked to the Peninsula Hotel people from Chicago and tasted their amazing hot chocolate. Then had a Patron margarita, it was after 3 already, and walked to the back room by the Gold Toe sock display. The two ladies there, Jen and Ericka, were so nice, invited us to sit. I think they were happy to have company. They gave us lots of socks, and told us they get calls from stars, like this, "I'm in my closet, and it's all beige and brown, and I don't have any socks to match, can you send me 100 pairs?" And they do it. Once.
They gave us socks.
Then Jen asks Kris what she does, and Kris starts telling her about painting in reverse on vinyl, and Jen gets this weird look on her face and says, "I know you, some one told me about you." Someone who Kris doesn't know had told Jen about her paintings last year. Jen remembered her as soon as she heard the reverse painting on vinyl. That was a spooky cool wow moment for Kris.
All this has happened and it's not even 5 PM. So we leave there and go up Main Street to meet Jeff Gold and his girlfriend Liz, and a couple of other friends for an early dinner. The restaurant is Shabu, and the only reservation Jeff could get was 5 pm. This is important because later it comes up. The restaurant is very crowded and very expensive. Fine dining, right?
The food is good, the service fine, we are all talking and drinking and enjoying ourselves. The bill comes, it's paid, and two members of our table leave, and we ask the waiter for more water. Jeff leaves the table for a minute, Liz, Kris and I are there, and the waiter tells us, very rudely, that we have been there too long, our reservation was from 5 to 7, they let us stay till eight, (it's only 7:30) but they have been very generous to us and let us stay but now they have to turn the table and we have to go as he grabs the water glass away from Liz. We were stunned. The billl for 7 of us, though I didn't see it, had to be about 400 to 500 bucks. This isn't a diner. So Jeff comes back and I tell him what happened. He gets mad, Liz gets mad. We all got mad. So we said something. Jeff wantes to talk to the manager. The waiter goes away, and when he comes back he is very apologetic, but never really says I'm sorry for the way he acted, but the manager has instructed him to tell us we can stay and they would like to buy us a drink. So we take the drink, and take our time, but it was a very strange experience. A Waitergonebad for sure!
After that we had to get going to our second screening of Phantom Love, which I liked even more the second time, and this time I was invited down to the podium by the director for the Q & A. That was fun. Nina answered questions about the film.
By the time we got out of there it was almost midnight and we decided to head back to Coalville. Nothing happened on the way. We sat in the hot tub at the motel. I'm addicted to hot tubs now. That was day three.
Saturday, January 20, 2007
Sundance 2007 - Day 2
Yesterday I mentioned that anyone who is somebody has a festival pass, a big bright orange pass hanging around their neck, and they wear it proudly. Well, now I have one too.
Yesterday, we left Coalville and went to breakfast at the Yarrow wherre we overheard the director of My Kid Could Paint That being interviewed. Then up to Main Street and said hello to Jeff Gold, a composer friend of mine who lives in SLC and is running a small festival on Main Street at The New Frontier Building called the Music and Film Festival, devoted to music in films. Went to a free cafe sponsored by The Wall Street Journal Week-end edition and heard John Sloss and Brett Morgan (Chicago 10) talk about their film.
Then we went back to the Holiday Cinema to get wait list tickets for the 5:30 premiere of Phantom Love. Across the parking lot for a sandwich and ran into John Diggles, fellow Chicago filmmaker and producer of the 2002 Sundance film, Design, by Davidson Cole.
Got into the screening of Phantom Love ($10 tickets!!!) and saw Nina, the director and others from the film and was thoroughly mesmorized by it. It's a personal story, a search for meaning and self. Not for everyone, as evidenced by those who walked out, but I thought it was beautiful, full of haunting images, and shot in beautiful Black and White. Then I came on screen, preaching, in two shots, close ups, powerful, and it was a real kick to see my self up there.
After the screening we had a drink and at dinner we talked to our neighbors and met some cool people. We decided to head back early, sit in the spa and get some sleep.
Here is the fun capper to the day. We park at the motel in Coalville, and up pulls a Jeep to the front door. As we walk in I see the Indiana license plates and comment that they have come a long way. Then we enter the lobby and the guy who got out of the Jeep was Rusty Nails, a guy I went to Columbia College with and a Chicago filmmaker. He was just stopping to ask directions. They were just driving here from Chicago. I gave them directions and I'm sure we'll see them on Main street. Good thing I didn't owe him any money. That would have been uncomfortable. What are the chances? If it were in a movie, I don't think I'd believe it. Life and movies, sometimes it's hard to tell them apart. As my friend Al Rose wrote; "Shit like this you can't make up."
Day two was a blast, and met a lot of people.
Yesterday, we left Coalville and went to breakfast at the Yarrow wherre we overheard the director of My Kid Could Paint That being interviewed. Then up to Main Street and said hello to Jeff Gold, a composer friend of mine who lives in SLC and is running a small festival on Main Street at The New Frontier Building called the Music and Film Festival, devoted to music in films. Went to a free cafe sponsored by The Wall Street Journal Week-end edition and heard John Sloss and Brett Morgan (Chicago 10) talk about their film.
Then we went back to the Holiday Cinema to get wait list tickets for the 5:30 premiere of Phantom Love. Across the parking lot for a sandwich and ran into John Diggles, fellow Chicago filmmaker and producer of the 2002 Sundance film, Design, by Davidson Cole.
Got into the screening of Phantom Love ($10 tickets!!!) and saw Nina, the director and others from the film and was thoroughly mesmorized by it. It's a personal story, a search for meaning and self. Not for everyone, as evidenced by those who walked out, but I thought it was beautiful, full of haunting images, and shot in beautiful Black and White. Then I came on screen, preaching, in two shots, close ups, powerful, and it was a real kick to see my self up there.
After the screening we had a drink and at dinner we talked to our neighbors and met some cool people. We decided to head back early, sit in the spa and get some sleep.
Here is the fun capper to the day. We park at the motel in Coalville, and up pulls a Jeep to the front door. As we walk in I see the Indiana license plates and comment that they have come a long way. Then we enter the lobby and the guy who got out of the Jeep was Rusty Nails, a guy I went to Columbia College with and a Chicago filmmaker. He was just stopping to ask directions. They were just driving here from Chicago. I gave them directions and I'm sure we'll see them on Main street. Good thing I didn't owe him any money. That would have been uncomfortable. What are the chances? If it were in a movie, I don't think I'd believe it. Life and movies, sometimes it's hard to tell them apart. As my friend Al Rose wrote; "Shit like this you can't make up."
Day two was a blast, and met a lot of people.
Thursday, January 18, 2007
Sundance 2007 - Day 1
It's late, and I've been traveling all day, but I wanted to write something before I go to bed. I'm here at the Sundance Film Festival. This year, unlike anytime I've been here before, I'm connected to a film in the festival. I have a small part in the film Phantom Love by Nina Menkes. When Nina wrote me that the film was selected to premiere in the fest, I knew I had to be here. If it weren't for that, I wouldn't have come this year.
It's cold here! Yeah really, it's winter. The high today in Park City was 20 degrees. I haven't experienced a cold winter in a year, and you know what? It's the same as I remember it. You have to wear a lot of clothes and it's cold and hard to move and its cold. But I'm not here to talk about the weather.
We flew into Salt Lake City today, rented a car and drove up to Coalville, UT, about 20 miles east of Park City. It was the only place I could get a room a month before the festival that didn't cost $300 a night. After checking in at the Best Western in Coalville, we went down and sat in the spa for a while. That helped releive some of the stress of travel.
Then we drove into Park City for dinner and to look around. Tonight is the opening night of the festival, so it isn't that crowded yet. Already the bars and restaurants are busy, but not like it will be tomorrow, and the rest of this opening weekend. The festival runs for ten days, but most people come either the first weekend or the second. The opening weekend is busier and more star sightings are likely.
Kris has never been to Park City or the festival, so this is all new to her. This is my fourth festival, so I know the lay of the land a bit.
One thing that didn't work for me about this years festival was the system they created for buying individual screening tickets. You see, if you are anybody, you have a pass. A pass says you are somebody. Sombody with either an expence account, a studio job, or are successful enough or important enough to shell out hundreds (or maybe a thousand) for an all access full festival pass.
The rest of us must beg, borrow or steal tickets to get into the best films. Or get lucky in the ticket lottery to buy single tickets. This year they had a lottery system and here's how it worked. You had to pay 5 bucks to be entered into a lottery, and create a user account. Then a computer would randomly assign all those who entered a time to purchase individual tickets to screenings via a secure website. The time slots were from Monday to Friday of the week before the festival. Kris and I entered. Her time was Thursday afternoon, mine was friday morning, the last day tickets were on sale. Now, they don't really know how many pass holders are going to attend a given movie, so they must have a system for estimating how many will, and based on the number of seats at a particular venue, (there are 8 in Park City) how many individual tickets they can sell.
So you log onto a website at your assigned time, access your account, and start selecting tickets. If you called in on the phone at your assigned time, there would be a ten dollar service fee, on top of the one dollar service fee on each tickets bought on-line or on the phone.
When Kris' time came, we started logging in to use the service, but the system was so over loaded that it didn't work. So we tried the phone, and that was busy for over a half hour. Then our call was answered and we were put on hold for a long time. When we finally got an operator, every movie we wanted, and every back-up second choice we wanted was already sold out. The only movie we were able to get tickets for was a screening on Saturday night at a theatre about 6 miles outside of Park City (who wants to leave Park City just to see a movie!) of Phantom Love, the film I am in. That's it. Everything else was sold out. And with the service fee, the lottery fee and the telephone fee, it cost us 52 dollars for two tickets to see the movie I am in. Great!
Now if you can't afford 26 dollars for a movie ticket maybe you should stay home and rent a movie and make some micro-wave popcorn. This is Sundance baby. You might be sitting next to "someone" at a screening. You might see a big star on the street or the table next to you at lunch. Once I ran into Hope Davis at the Albertsons doing some shopping. You never know. So, no, I'm not complaining about spending 52 dollars for two movie tickets, I'm bragging about it! $28 for an entree? $13 dollars for a glass of wine? Bring it on.
Tomorrow we will get in line for last minute tickets to the Premiere of Phantom Love. I hope we can get in. I want to see the first screening, to go up on stage after the movie with the director and the rest of the cast. That is what I want out of this.
I got paid 100 bucks for my participation in this movie. I'm spending thousands to attend the festival. Is it worth it? You bet it is. It's priceless.
More tomorrow! Look for us on E - entertainment! Signing out from Coalville, UT -
Noel
It's cold here! Yeah really, it's winter. The high today in Park City was 20 degrees. I haven't experienced a cold winter in a year, and you know what? It's the same as I remember it. You have to wear a lot of clothes and it's cold and hard to move and its cold. But I'm not here to talk about the weather.
We flew into Salt Lake City today, rented a car and drove up to Coalville, UT, about 20 miles east of Park City. It was the only place I could get a room a month before the festival that didn't cost $300 a night. After checking in at the Best Western in Coalville, we went down and sat in the spa for a while. That helped releive some of the stress of travel.
Then we drove into Park City for dinner and to look around. Tonight is the opening night of the festival, so it isn't that crowded yet. Already the bars and restaurants are busy, but not like it will be tomorrow, and the rest of this opening weekend. The festival runs for ten days, but most people come either the first weekend or the second. The opening weekend is busier and more star sightings are likely.
Kris has never been to Park City or the festival, so this is all new to her. This is my fourth festival, so I know the lay of the land a bit.
One thing that didn't work for me about this years festival was the system they created for buying individual screening tickets. You see, if you are anybody, you have a pass. A pass says you are somebody. Sombody with either an expence account, a studio job, or are successful enough or important enough to shell out hundreds (or maybe a thousand) for an all access full festival pass.
The rest of us must beg, borrow or steal tickets to get into the best films. Or get lucky in the ticket lottery to buy single tickets. This year they had a lottery system and here's how it worked. You had to pay 5 bucks to be entered into a lottery, and create a user account. Then a computer would randomly assign all those who entered a time to purchase individual tickets to screenings via a secure website. The time slots were from Monday to Friday of the week before the festival. Kris and I entered. Her time was Thursday afternoon, mine was friday morning, the last day tickets were on sale. Now, they don't really know how many pass holders are going to attend a given movie, so they must have a system for estimating how many will, and based on the number of seats at a particular venue, (there are 8 in Park City) how many individual tickets they can sell.
So you log onto a website at your assigned time, access your account, and start selecting tickets. If you called in on the phone at your assigned time, there would be a ten dollar service fee, on top of the one dollar service fee on each tickets bought on-line or on the phone.
When Kris' time came, we started logging in to use the service, but the system was so over loaded that it didn't work. So we tried the phone, and that was busy for over a half hour. Then our call was answered and we were put on hold for a long time. When we finally got an operator, every movie we wanted, and every back-up second choice we wanted was already sold out. The only movie we were able to get tickets for was a screening on Saturday night at a theatre about 6 miles outside of Park City (who wants to leave Park City just to see a movie!) of Phantom Love, the film I am in. That's it. Everything else was sold out. And with the service fee, the lottery fee and the telephone fee, it cost us 52 dollars for two tickets to see the movie I am in. Great!
Now if you can't afford 26 dollars for a movie ticket maybe you should stay home and rent a movie and make some micro-wave popcorn. This is Sundance baby. You might be sitting next to "someone" at a screening. You might see a big star on the street or the table next to you at lunch. Once I ran into Hope Davis at the Albertsons doing some shopping. You never know. So, no, I'm not complaining about spending 52 dollars for two movie tickets, I'm bragging about it! $28 for an entree? $13 dollars for a glass of wine? Bring it on.
Tomorrow we will get in line for last minute tickets to the Premiere of Phantom Love. I hope we can get in. I want to see the first screening, to go up on stage after the movie with the director and the rest of the cast. That is what I want out of this.
I got paid 100 bucks for my participation in this movie. I'm spending thousands to attend the festival. Is it worth it? You bet it is. It's priceless.
More tomorrow! Look for us on E - entertainment! Signing out from Coalville, UT -
Noel
Sunday, January 07, 2007
Happy New Year 2007
Greetings friends and strangers,
I hope 2007 will rain health and wealth and happiness down on you like confetti in Times Square on NYE. I hope the New Year will bring you all you desire and that you get to wear fabulous new clothes. I hope your breath will always be pleasant and your dandruff under control. I hope your feet will carry you on amazing paths through exotic countries and your tongue will learn many new words. I hope the lottery numbers you saw in your dream last night and played today match the Big Game. I hope your teenage children appreciate you for the amazing person you are. I hope you never need Viagra or Vagisil. I hope you smoke only the good stuff. I hope your blood pressure is low, your I.Q. high, and your bowel movements regular. I hope your evil boss gets transferred, your obnoxious co-worker has an epiphany and moves to Tibet and is replaced by someone super-cool. I hope you finish your screenplay. I hope you win the Nobel prize. I hope your line of women's thong bikinis gets picked up by Macy's. I hope your dog's obedient training classes go well. I hope your coffee is always strong. I hope you look good in every photo you are in this year. I hope that re-hab job in your home is over soon. I hope you marry the person of your dreams. I hope you learn to ride a bike. I hope you learn to play the guitar. I hope your psoriasis clears up. I hope your garage sale is a success. I hope your girlfriend loses that 20 pounds she's been trying to lose. I hope the wars and destruction around the planet will end and the healing can begin. I hope your car gets 45 MPG. I hope I can move on to the next paragraph of this entry soon. I hope the Cubs win the World Series. I hope you get your own sit-com. I hope you learn to golf.
The new year is getting off to a great start for me here in LA-LA land, my new home.
I've been here for 9 months now and in that time I've lived in two apartments, bought a new car, had a lot of jobs, and had a role in a film that will premiere at the Sundance Film Festival this month. I've been asked to be a company member of the Atwater Playhouse in LA, performed in Invisible Bars, the second show at this new theatre, and continue to study my craft and get better all the time.
I'm going to write more in 2007, so check back often.
Peace to you all,
Noel
I hope 2007 will rain health and wealth and happiness down on you like confetti in Times Square on NYE. I hope the New Year will bring you all you desire and that you get to wear fabulous new clothes. I hope your breath will always be pleasant and your dandruff under control. I hope your feet will carry you on amazing paths through exotic countries and your tongue will learn many new words. I hope the lottery numbers you saw in your dream last night and played today match the Big Game. I hope your teenage children appreciate you for the amazing person you are. I hope you never need Viagra or Vagisil. I hope you smoke only the good stuff. I hope your blood pressure is low, your I.Q. high, and your bowel movements regular. I hope your evil boss gets transferred, your obnoxious co-worker has an epiphany and moves to Tibet and is replaced by someone super-cool. I hope you finish your screenplay. I hope you win the Nobel prize. I hope your line of women's thong bikinis gets picked up by Macy's. I hope your dog's obedient training classes go well. I hope your coffee is always strong. I hope you look good in every photo you are in this year. I hope that re-hab job in your home is over soon. I hope you marry the person of your dreams. I hope you learn to ride a bike. I hope you learn to play the guitar. I hope your psoriasis clears up. I hope your garage sale is a success. I hope your girlfriend loses that 20 pounds she's been trying to lose. I hope the wars and destruction around the planet will end and the healing can begin. I hope your car gets 45 MPG. I hope I can move on to the next paragraph of this entry soon. I hope the Cubs win the World Series. I hope you get your own sit-com. I hope you learn to golf.
The new year is getting off to a great start for me here in LA-LA land, my new home.
I've been here for 9 months now and in that time I've lived in two apartments, bought a new car, had a lot of jobs, and had a role in a film that will premiere at the Sundance Film Festival this month. I've been asked to be a company member of the Atwater Playhouse in LA, performed in Invisible Bars, the second show at this new theatre, and continue to study my craft and get better all the time.
I'm going to write more in 2007, so check back often.
Peace to you all,
Noel
Saturday, November 25, 2006
Robert Altman and my best Location Manager job ever.
One night in Chicago, while I was working as location manager on a stupid commercial, and trying my best not to lose my temper with the stupid producer from LA, I got a call from a Chicago production manager friend of mine, Karyn McCarthy, asking me if I would like to come in to the office thenext morning and meet Robert Altman, and start location scouting for his new film, The Company. Would I ever? I said yes immediately. Suddenly I could deal with the present situation much easier, knowing it would be over in a matter of hours, and the next morning I would be starting a new job working for one of my film heroes. I was really floating on clouds the rest of the night, and even though we shot well into the early morning hours, I was up and ready to go downtown early for my meeting.
I was very nervous to meet Bob, but there was no need. He was so nice and warm, welcoming and charming. Our meeting only lasted five minutes, and he was a bit vague about his desire for locations, but since I hadn't even read the script yet, it didn't matter. I had met Robert Altman, and I was going to be the location manager on the film.
Over the next three months I got to watch Bob more than I had much meaningful direct contact with him. He didn't deal with tasks like locations very hands on, other people did most of that for him. Since The Company was mostly shot in the rehearsal studio and sets built for the film all in one building downtown, there wasn't a lot of on location work. Probably because he was 78 at the time, he wasn't up for that. Look at Gosford Park, one location, or Prairie Home, mostly one set.
I remember one day I was in Karyn's office talking, and Bob came in. He had to ask Karyn about something and he sat down and relaxed for a moment. Then we just started talking, and Karyn told him that I was a film maker and had just directed a feature. He asked me a bit about it and I started to tell him when his producer came in and had to take Bob away to deal with something. When Bob left, Karyn and I just looked at each other in disbelief at our brief tete a tete with Bob Altman. It was a real "wow" moment for me.
I never had a chance to speak with him so directly again, except at the wrap party, when I thanked him for the party and the opportunity to work on the film. Our wrap gift on the show was a black and white scarf with the words THE COMPANY knitted across the length of it, designed by Bob.
When we were on location, Bob always went out of his way to say hello to people. I remember when we shot the big dance in the rain scene for three nights at the Petrillo Band Shell in Grant Park. We invited the city of Chicago to join us for the big crowd scenes, we made rain, we had special effects, and everyone got wet. But hundreds of people came down to see Robert Altman work. And Bob came out on stage and said hello to everyone, and thanked them for being there. He was like that everywhere we worked; at the Auditorium Theatre, at a private mansion, at the club Neo, I could always count on Bob to be kind to everyone we dealt with; from the cops directing traffic for us to the people that rented us a lunch room location. That is not always the case with star directors. And it makes my job so much easier when I tell a location that Altman is directing the film, doors open a lot quicker. Everyone wanted the chance to meet him.
I was very impressed to watch him work on his first film in high definition video. He sat at a bank of monitors and watched the four cameras simultaneously, and after each take make adjustments. He was a perfectionist, and would do take after take, looking for something intangible that he was waiting to happen. At 78 years old and after so many films, here he was embracing this new technology and playing with it, creating with it, like the master artist he was.
The only time I got mad at Bob, and of course I kept this to myself, was when he cancelled a shot called for 8 PM at an exterior location downtown. It was November and cold, and I guess he just didn't feel up to it. I had spent three weeks setting up that location dealing with buildings, businesses, agreements, street closures and other entities, and he just pulled the plug on it because it was cold. That's power I thought. Oh, well, that's what I do. Things change. Of course the film didn't suffer with out that scene, so I guess he knew what he was doing.
I no longer work as a location manager, but working with Robert Altman on The Company was the best L.M. job I ever had.
I will always remember Bob Altman as a kind and creative man who made great films, loved actors, and took the crazy world of show-biz in stride. He inspires me today to continue to seek my way and stay true to my vision, the way any artist must. Thanks Bob.
I took the photo above while we were on a location scout. He is seated with the DoP of the film, Andrew Dunn, and (R) his son and camera operator, Bobby. Photo credit: Noel Olken © 2002
Thursday, November 02, 2006
F.A.Q. # 1
Welcome to the Frequently Asked Questions page of the It's Okay web log. If you don't find the answer you are looking for here, please try looking on the internet. There are so many questions that we won't be able to get to them all on this page, so look for more F.A.Q. pages in the future.
Question: Why don't you write very often?
Answer: Writing a "blog" is very hard work. Sometimes after even creating a short entry I can't get out of bed for weeks.
Q: What is your favorite color?
A: I would have to say it's in the blue family, but the specific favorite shade of blue changes frequently. The color of Kris's eyes are amazing, so that's a big favorite. (for a photo of Kris go to kriscahill.com and check out those eyes!)
Q: What is the name of the Hopi ritual clown you wear on the left breast of your black denim jacket?
A: That is Koshari, or the Hano clown. Another name for Koshari is Koyala, which seems to refer to their babbling speech and antic movements, but may also refer to their headgear, koya'lashen.
Q: Why did you choose him?
A: I like him because he is also known as the glutton, and will often eat an entire watermelon by himself. Like me.
Q: When did you move to Los Angeles?
A: The year was 1878. The gold rush was on. I packed the family into the wagon and we headed out west from Ohio to strike it rich.
Q: What about this life time?
A: Oh. I moved here in March of ought six. I spent 7 long months living away from my blue eyed wife, which if you have a wife, I highly recommend you not live away from her for that long. It's very difficult.
Q: What happened, were you finally reunited?
A: Yes. In September of ought six we sold the homestead back in Illinois, and packed up the Penske (that's what they call wagons these days) and headed west. It was one of the most difficult moves in the history of moves. For one, the old penske was too small to accommodate all of our worldly possessions. As the last piece of furniture was placed on the back of ole penske and tied down, we still had a front yard full of boxes and furniture that we had no room for.
Q: What did you do?
A: We started a bon fire and burned everything.
Q: What happened next?
A: Well, it was late by the time we left the homestead, so we drove the penske as far as we could, and found a place to rest for the night. It was an inn of some kind that had a holiday theme to it. The next morning when we woke, the wife had taken ill with a pox of some kind. We sought out a doctor in Missouri who treated her, but the pain persisted for quite some time.
We had planned a wonderful journey/adventure/vacation, but it was not as much fun for the wife as we had hoped, as her face was on fire most of the trip. By the time we hit the big hole in the ground in Arizona, she was feeling much better, the swelling had gone down, and she could see again. Still, she refused to walk too close to the edge of the canyon. I'm not sure why.
Q: Who are you going to vote for on November 7th?
A: Anyone who is against the war, for the environment, and all the propositions that will tax the rich and the oil companies.
Q: Do you have any musical gigs coming up soon?
A: No.
Q: What about acting gigs?
A: I'm always auditioning for work, as all actors do. I was recently became a company member of the Atwater Playhouse
(www.atwaterplayhouse.com) a theatre and school that practices and teaches the Stanislavski Method. I am also
an understudy in their new play, Invisible Bars, that runs until Dec 16, 2006.
Q: Have you ever served any time in jail?
A: I was arrested twice, no convictions.
Q: How do you feel about the new planet that was just discovered?
A: I hope to get to know it better in the future, maybe at a cocktail party or some social event. I'm sure there are many more planets we will discover in the future.
Q: Were you ever a professional baseball player?
A: Yes, I played for the Washington Senators.
Q: What's it like living downtown in Los Angeles?
A: It's great. We are so close to everything. The air is dirty and it can be noisy at times, but that is most of LA. There are ten million souls here, it's an interesting place.
Q: Do you miss your friends and family back in Illinois?
A: Of course.
Q: Do you think the lunar landing in 1969 was a fake?
A: No. Green screen technology was not sophisticated enough then to fake such an event. I remember watching it live on television. It was very exciting. I hear the ratings were to the moon.
Q: If you were on a desert island, what three records and movies would you want with you?
A: How would I play them?
Q: A solar powered DVD/CD/MP3 player with built in monitor and speakers.
A: Okay. For music, I would choose Brian Eno's Another Green World, Frank Zappa's Hot Rats, and Bach's Preludes. Movies are bit harder, but I would have to say the original Willie Wonka with Gene Wilder, Woody Allen's What's Up Tiger Lilly, (so I could make up my own dialog when I got bored, and maybe some porn.
Q: Porn?
A: Yeah, I'm on a desert island alone with nothing but an MP3 player. What would you do, study fucking Latin?
Q: You seem upset now?
A: I'm not upset. I just don't want to be on the desert island anymore. End of questions, I need a nap.
If you have anymore questions, you can email me through my page on the world wide web, noelolken.com.
I have to go take a nap.
Question: Why don't you write very often?
Answer: Writing a "blog" is very hard work. Sometimes after even creating a short entry I can't get out of bed for weeks.
Q: What is your favorite color?
A: I would have to say it's in the blue family, but the specific favorite shade of blue changes frequently. The color of Kris's eyes are amazing, so that's a big favorite. (for a photo of Kris go to kriscahill.com and check out those eyes!)
Q: What is the name of the Hopi ritual clown you wear on the left breast of your black denim jacket?
A: That is Koshari, or the Hano clown. Another name for Koshari is Koyala, which seems to refer to their babbling speech and antic movements, but may also refer to their headgear, koya'lashen.
Q: Why did you choose him?
A: I like him because he is also known as the glutton, and will often eat an entire watermelon by himself. Like me.
Q: When did you move to Los Angeles?
A: The year was 1878. The gold rush was on. I packed the family into the wagon and we headed out west from Ohio to strike it rich.
Q: What about this life time?
A: Oh. I moved here in March of ought six. I spent 7 long months living away from my blue eyed wife, which if you have a wife, I highly recommend you not live away from her for that long. It's very difficult.
Q: What happened, were you finally reunited?
A: Yes. In September of ought six we sold the homestead back in Illinois, and packed up the Penske (that's what they call wagons these days) and headed west. It was one of the most difficult moves in the history of moves. For one, the old penske was too small to accommodate all of our worldly possessions. As the last piece of furniture was placed on the back of ole penske and tied down, we still had a front yard full of boxes and furniture that we had no room for.
Q: What did you do?
A: We started a bon fire and burned everything.
Q: What happened next?
A: Well, it was late by the time we left the homestead, so we drove the penske as far as we could, and found a place to rest for the night. It was an inn of some kind that had a holiday theme to it. The next morning when we woke, the wife had taken ill with a pox of some kind. We sought out a doctor in Missouri who treated her, but the pain persisted for quite some time.
We had planned a wonderful journey/adventure/vacation, but it was not as much fun for the wife as we had hoped, as her face was on fire most of the trip. By the time we hit the big hole in the ground in Arizona, she was feeling much better, the swelling had gone down, and she could see again. Still, she refused to walk too close to the edge of the canyon. I'm not sure why.
Q: Who are you going to vote for on November 7th?
A: Anyone who is against the war, for the environment, and all the propositions that will tax the rich and the oil companies.
Q: Do you have any musical gigs coming up soon?
A: No.
Q: What about acting gigs?
A: I'm always auditioning for work, as all actors do. I was recently became a company member of the Atwater Playhouse
(www.atwaterplayhouse.com) a theatre and school that practices and teaches the Stanislavski Method. I am also
an understudy in their new play, Invisible Bars, that runs until Dec 16, 2006.
Q: Have you ever served any time in jail?
A: I was arrested twice, no convictions.
Q: How do you feel about the new planet that was just discovered?
A: I hope to get to know it better in the future, maybe at a cocktail party or some social event. I'm sure there are many more planets we will discover in the future.
Q: Were you ever a professional baseball player?
A: Yes, I played for the Washington Senators.
Q: What's it like living downtown in Los Angeles?
A: It's great. We are so close to everything. The air is dirty and it can be noisy at times, but that is most of LA. There are ten million souls here, it's an interesting place.
Q: Do you miss your friends and family back in Illinois?
A: Of course.
Q: Do you think the lunar landing in 1969 was a fake?
A: No. Green screen technology was not sophisticated enough then to fake such an event. I remember watching it live on television. It was very exciting. I hear the ratings were to the moon.
Q: If you were on a desert island, what three records and movies would you want with you?
A: How would I play them?
Q: A solar powered DVD/CD/MP3 player with built in monitor and speakers.
A: Okay. For music, I would choose Brian Eno's Another Green World, Frank Zappa's Hot Rats, and Bach's Preludes. Movies are bit harder, but I would have to say the original Willie Wonka with Gene Wilder, Woody Allen's What's Up Tiger Lilly, (so I could make up my own dialog when I got bored, and maybe some porn.
Q: Porn?
A: Yeah, I'm on a desert island alone with nothing but an MP3 player. What would you do, study fucking Latin?
Q: You seem upset now?
A: I'm not upset. I just don't want to be on the desert island anymore. End of questions, I need a nap.
If you have anymore questions, you can email me through my page on the world wide web, noelolken.com.
I have to go take a nap.
Monday, August 14, 2006
Zombies, Pirates and Priests
Last week I was a Zombie in an art film project by Jim Shaw. It's supposed to be shown in an art gallery in Paris next year. When I get more info I will post it here. There were 12 of us "Businessmen Zombies" (redundant, I know) and we are part of a bigger project Jim is putting together. I'm not sure what it is yet.
It was fun to get into latex makeup and breath in fogger smoke for hours in an enclosed studio in Pasadena.
For lunch I had a burrito, which is really hard to eat when your mouth won't open very wide.
In the last three weeks I've been a priest, a pirate, and a zombie.
Oh yeah, and a waiter. But that's real life. Or is it?
Wednesday, August 02, 2006
LA makes for some Strange Days
(photo: L 2 R Kevin, Noel, Nina)
One of my favorite Doors songs is Strange Days. No surprise Jim Morrison was from LA.
Yesterday was one of my strange and wonderful days in LA. A bit stressful, but fun and wonderful.
Yesterday I was booked to shoot the role of a Televangelist for Nina Menkes, director, in her newest independent film, Phantom Love. (www.ninamenkes.com) I've been booked for weeks and had the day blocked out. On Monday, I get an email from the extras casting director for Pirates of the Caribbean 3 that I have a look-see with Pirates director Gore Verbinski for the featured role of a French-speaking pirate. Awesome, but it's at 9 am in Burbank, at Disney, and I have a 10 am call in Venice, about 30 miles away. If everything went well, and traffic didn't suck too badly, I could have made it.
Then an hour later I get another email that the look-see has been pushed to 2 pm. This would be tight, because how could I know how long the shoot would go, and what I really wanted more than anything was to do both the shoot and the look see.
Well I got what I wanted. The shoot went great, Nina was happy, and I wrapped my scene at 12:50 pm. I took one picture with Nina and her producer Kevin in my Televangelist/priest garb, and headed for Burbank.
My roommate, Circus*Szalewski (www.atthecircus.com) lent me his white billowy sleeved pirate shirt, which I wore with a bandana around my neck and my curly toed renaissance shoes. It was fun to walk through the Disney lot dressed as a pirate. No one really looked twice.
When I got to the location, a courtyard in the Frank G Wells building, there were about twenty other pirates sitting or standing around, filling out paperwork. By the end, about 35 pirates were there, some in full pirate regalia, and some looking more like French cafe waiters. About 10-15 guys were French, about 5 were European, and the rest, like myself, not French. I speak French, but I could hear that some of these guys couldn't speak a word of French but were going to try to get in anyway.
There were some great looking pirates; guys with great character faces who really, if I had to choose 3, I would have cast before me. But I was excited to be there, and the chance to stand before Gore and get a shot. I had been practicing how to tell him to f*ck off in French as a greeting for hours.
In the end, after keeping us waiting for over 2 hours, Gore was a no show and we were taken to a rehearsal room in the basement of a production building where we were taped in groups of ten.
So from a priest in an indie film in Venice to a pirate on the Disney lot in one day; I think that qualifies as a Strange Day. If I end up getting a role in Pirates 3, you will surely read about it here.
Peace.
Sunday, July 02, 2006
Happy In De Pants Day!
Hey, what's up, people? Are you wearing pants? It is In De Pants Day weekend, so come on, show your national pride and wear pants. What, it's In Depends Day?
Hey, up above you can see the knowwar photo I worked on a few weeks ago. The photographer, Zach Gold just sent it to us, and said to post it and show it and spread the word. So here it is. Feel free to pass it on. I hope it will get a lot of attention. I think it is an awesome photo and I was damn proud to be a part of it. 2500 hundred Americans dead in Iraq - and counting!
Remember I told you that about 50 of us showed up in the desert and we kept moving around in a group and Zach stitched it all together to make it look like 2500 of us? Well last week I had a job where we did the same thing, but it wasn't as much fun, or exciting or will it help stop the violence in Iraq or end the killing.
It was a photo for a brochure for a car company, and 50 of us moved around the seats of the Disney Concert Hall in downtown LA to make it look like 1600 people were watching a new car on stage. No heat. No dust, No burrs. No righteous anger at the stupid war.
And speaking of stupid war, as if it wasn't just the most outrageous travesty, now two American soldiers are accused of targeting, raping, and killing a Iraqi woman, and then her family to cover it up. Oh, and let's burn her house down too while we're at it.
Come on, guys, you're wearing 70 pounds of body armor, it's 120 degrees out. Are you getting all hot and bothered about a woman in a Burkha? What, did she show some ankle? These guys need a break. Obviously, not everyone can handle the stress very well. Bring these guys home. We really gotta get out of there. They are losing control, shooting at anything, and we are losing the war.
Speaking of war, are you out blowing shit up this weekend? Watch your fingers, though, you may need them on Wednesday. I personally don't like the sound of fireworks going off in my neighborhood. First there's the BOOM of an M80 or some such stupidity, followed by a car alarm or two. It's very distracting when I'm trying to watch Matlock reruns in Spanish.
It's been building up for weeks now. Tomorrow, the third, should be a blast!
Happy Birthday to all the July babies out there. I know quite a few of you.
And Happy Birthday, America. How old are you now? When will you grow up?
Sunday, June 18, 2006
Richard C. Miller 1926-2006
Let me start by offering my sincerest condolences to the Miller family for your loss.
I'm sorry this is so long, but anything less from me just wouldn't be possible.
I had the honor and the privilege of knowing Richard Milller for over half of my life, but now, even that does not seem like enough. Should I feel guilty for being so greedy? No, I admit, I want more. But it was Richard's time, and I'm glad he went peacefully, surrounded by his family. He never stopped talking about you; he loved you all so much.
I want to share just a few of the many memories of my 26-year friendship with Richard. I know they will comfort, console, and amuse me for a long time.
I guess the way we met is remarkable enough. The year is 1979. There I was on the PCH hitchhiking in the rain when Richard picked me up. I believe he was driving a VW bug. We stopped for a beer, his idea of course. I forget where, maybe in Monterey. I was awestruck by this fascinating man. Soon he was telling me I had to meet a friend of his, who was at another bar. He gave me his car keys, told me how to get there, and instructed me to find him and bring him back. So off I go, in his car, to the bar, to find someone I don't know, for someone I don't know, in a town I've never been to before. I get to the bar, and the gentleman in question had just left. So back I go to Richard. I walk in and Richard starts laughing and slapping the bar. He won the bet! The bartender bet him I wouldn't come back, that I would steal his car and be half way to Los Angeles by now. Richard knew I would come back, and we were friends ever since.
Over the years Richard and I spent time in San Francisco, Chicago, New York and Paris, and at his wonderful home in Pacific Grove. In San Francisco we hatched a plan during the Iran Hostage Crisis for me to replace one of the hostages. The big story of the day was the mother of one of the hostages who wanted to travel to Iran to see her son, but wasn't allowed to. So we came up with a plan. I'll take his place; then he gets to go home to his mother. We even wrote a blues song about it, and thought that would help the idea and, if we could record it before I go, could help raise the money for our scheme. I remember the first few lines: "Ayatollah once, Ayatollah twice, taking Americans hostage just isn't nice!"
Richard knew we needed press, so he called the Chronicle. They were skeptical, but sent someone down to talk to us. The reporter listened politely as we told him our plan and sang him the song, asked how to spell our names, and then asked if we had spoken to anyone at the State Dept. Were we aware that there was a ban on travel to Iran? So then we called the State Dept. An agent politely listened and told me how noble the idea was, but that they could not sponsor a hostage trade like that. I'm sure both of our government dossiers grew a little bigger that day. But we laughed and sang that song over and over to anyone who would listen. Thinking back on it now, we never really thought about my mother, and that she would be pretty upset if I went through with such a scheme, but hey, we were having too much fun to be realistic!
Richard was always fascinated by human nature and behavior. In Paris one day, we sat outdoors at a cafe at lunchtime and Richard threw 5-franc pieces on the street just to watch the expressions on the faces of the people who found them. Or saw them and wouldn't pick them up. 5 Francs at the time was only about a buck, but enough for a sandwich or a cappuccino at a cafe. How we laughed as we kept throwing coins on the street. Other people at the cafe, who were appalled at what we were doing, also started watching and, God bless the shy and reticent French, were even amused as well.
One night in Chicago, I took Richard to meet some friends of mine. They were part of a small theatre company that traveled to prisons, and all lived together in a small crowded apartment in Lakeview. An Englishman named John Bergman ran the company. Bergman was sharp, intellectual, sarcastic, and loved a good debate. He and Richard started talking and the rest of us just sat back and watched the sparks fly! Bergman was having so much fun taking an opposing view on everything Richard said. Richard's knowledge of history, combined with his love of art and people, were diametrically opposed to Bergman's cynical and foreign view of American politics, art and people. It was a glorious night. These two intellectual monsters, both drinking, both enjoying the debate skill of the other, put on quite a show. That small kitchen really came to life that night!
Richard was my mentor as well as my friend. He encouraged me to write, act, direct, make music, make films, and be an artist. When a new version of Bohemia was going to be published, he encouraged me to write a new chapter about my years living in Paris, to update the Bohemian experience for a new generation. That was the first of many projects we would work on together over the years.
Richard loved everybody. He made everyone feel like they were important and included them in everything he did. When he met my wife, Kris, he instantly treated her like his best friend. He was like that. He loved her artwork, so much so that when he published Tanglefoot last year, it was important to him to use one of her paintings on the cover.
For the last 26 years, no matter where I was in the world, no matter what was going on in my life, if I came home to find a letter from Richard, I was always immediately filled with joy. I have boxes containing hundreds of letters of correspondence from Richard. Some hand written, some typed, but all containing the wonderful enthusiastic and creative energy of Richard. No one in the world had a greater influence in my development as an artist, and a person than Richard.
Richard always closed his letters in one of two ways; For Fun and Folly, or, We're Flying Now!
My friendship with Richard was one of mutual respect and admiration, and of fun and folly!
Richard, I love you and miss you terribly. You made this world a better place, and you are missed by so many.
Richard, wherever you are, I know you are flying now!
Some of Richard's 13 novels and books include Bohemia; The Protoculture Then and Now, Snail, Sowboy, Canam, and Seaville.
For fun and folly!
Monday, June 12, 2006
Last week sucked!
Last week I lost a friend, and suffered many small disappointments to boot. It was a bad week for me.
Somehow I made it through the weekend with only a few scratches.
This week will be better, I know. I'm working on a small piece about my friend, Richard C. Miller; a great man, a great artist, and a great writer. I really miss him. I never got to say good bye.
Goodbye, Richard.
Somehow I made it through the weekend with only a few scratches.
This week will be better, I know. I'm working on a small piece about my friend, Richard C. Miller; a great man, a great artist, and a great writer. I really miss him. I never got to say good bye.
Goodbye, Richard.
Sunday, June 04, 2006
The Blogs Of War
It was about 7:30 am the other day when I was startled awake by a pounding at my door.
Sleepily, I went to see who it was. I peered through the peep hole. I saw a couple of suits.
"Who's there?" I mumbled.
"Blog Police" came a response from the other side of the door.
"What do you want?" I was starting to wake up now, but I think my voice cracked a little.
"Federal Standards created by the Department of Blogs stipulates very clearly that a blogger must maintain his or her blog a minimum number of times per month. You have fallen below the minimum" came the voice from the other side.
"Yeah, right." I scoffed.
"This is serious, sir. Your right to blog may be revoked. The internet is not for the weak hearted, or those who can't put out a federally mandated number of words and spaces a month. Get with the program, sir, or get off the net. This is your first and last warning."
"Oh, yeah? And what are you going to do about it if I don't?" I asked, sarcasm dripping from my lips.
The voice on the other side of the door got very soft, almost a whisper. I stood motionless, listening to what he told me, and couldn't move again until the sound of scraping shoes down the hallway disappeared completely.
I immediately went to my computer, and started typing.
Sleepily, I went to see who it was. I peered through the peep hole. I saw a couple of suits.
"Who's there?" I mumbled.
"Blog Police" came a response from the other side of the door.
"What do you want?" I was starting to wake up now, but I think my voice cracked a little.
"Federal Standards created by the Department of Blogs stipulates very clearly that a blogger must maintain his or her blog a minimum number of times per month. You have fallen below the minimum" came the voice from the other side.
"Yeah, right." I scoffed.
"This is serious, sir. Your right to blog may be revoked. The internet is not for the weak hearted, or those who can't put out a federally mandated number of words and spaces a month. Get with the program, sir, or get off the net. This is your first and last warning."
"Oh, yeah? And what are you going to do about it if I don't?" I asked, sarcasm dripping from my lips.
The voice on the other side of the door got very soft, almost a whisper. I stood motionless, listening to what he told me, and couldn't move again until the sound of scraping shoes down the hallway disappeared completely.
I immediately went to my computer, and started typing.
Know War
On June 3, 2006, I participated in an historic photographic event, Know War. http://www.knowwar.com
It was a project by NYC photographer Zach Gold http://www.zachgold.com
From the Know War website, "Imagine a photograph of more than 2,400 Americans strewn across a vast, desiccated expanse of desert. Know War is an ambitious non-profit project that aims to depict the human cost of the Iraq War by transforming the casualty number into a visible reality. This undertaking by renowned photographer, Zach Gold, will create an image that makes death come to life. Know War intends to raise continued public awareness by enabling people to visually understand the American death toll."
It was an awesome event and I'm glad I got to participate in it. The photo should be on the Know War site in about 10 days.
Tell everyone you can about it. Spread the word. Help stop the WAR!
Here are a couple of my photos from the event.
Pic 1. - laying down to strike our "dead" poses. Zach is in the crane on the right. Because only 50 people showed up, not 2500, we moved from place to place in the field and Zach shot the scene 50 different times. We changed positions and clothes as much as possible. He will photoshop it together to make it look like 2500 dead bodies, or approximately the number of American lives lost so far in Iraq. It didn't have the same impact that being there with 2500 people would have had, but the idea is there, and I think it will make a spectacular photo.
Pic. 2 - Taking a break from shooting. There were about 50 participants. The mountains made a spectacular back drop. The location is called Mystic Mesa, outside of Santa Clarita, CA., about 40 miles NW of my apt. LA. It is private property that is rented out as a filming location.
Pic. 3 - That's me with the photographer, Zach Gold, after the shoot. We were having a very nice conversation as someone was taking our picture.
It was a really fun way to spend an afternoon. Met some really cool people, and felt like I contributed something to the betterment of the universe.
Oh, you who scoff, I laugh in your general direction!

Thursday, May 04, 2006
I'm a lite sleeper.
I really am a lite sleeper. If a spider farts on the other side of the apartment, I'm gonna wake up. And so, as much as I love this new apartment I'm in, as much as I can appreciate the southern and western exposure that makes it sunny all day long, as much as I appreciate the balcony overlooking the Hollywood Hills and the Griffith Park Observatory, as much as I appreciate the central location - it is noisy.
I am an early riser. Maybe it's a habit from working production jobs for so many years, where 4 am and 5 am calls are common, but I just can't sleep late. The problem is that I love to stay up late too, so no matter what time I go to bed, I get up early. But getting up early on your own, or being awakened by something outside are two different things.
So here are some of my noisy tales of woe. What about you? Do you live in a noisy neighborhood? Feel free to share your tales here and I'll post some of your comments.
My building:
Thankfully my building is really quiet. There is a musician living right downstairs, but music is not a problem. I actually like hearing music in the building. Other than that, I barely hear or see my neighbors. Even the kids are quiet.
There is a common washer/dryer area in the hallway, just on the other side of our living room. While I can hear it, so far no one has been doing laundry at 3 AM, so it's not so bad. The advantage however is I just open the door and do my laundry. It's almost like it's in the apartment.
Car alarms:
As usual, in any urban neighborhood, people have car alarms, and this one is no different. The thing about car alarms, is that when one goes off, the only person who DOESN'T hear it is the owner of the car. I also think some people like to hear their car alarms, like it's music to their ears. "Hell, I paid for it, I'm gonna enjoy it". Beep - Bop - Beep!!! Yeah, we all like it as much as you, especially after the 20th time.
Ice Cream Trucks:
At 4:30 pm every afternoon an ice cream truck playing Pop Goes The Weasel comes by and sits on my street for about 15 minutes. The mechanical strains of a digital rendition of this royalty free tune being pumped out of a crackly old speaker soon get me all nostalgic for an Orange Dreamsicle and a sledgehammer with which to destroy the offending speaker. Luckily I don't have one.
The thing about incessant noise is how quiet and lovely it seems when it finally ends. Unfortunately, the silence doesn't last long, because at about 5 pm, just 15 minutes later, another ice cream truck stops on the street in front of my building and it stays there for about 15 minutes also. I don't know the name of the song it plays, but I call it The Really Annoying Song on Ice Cream Truck Number Two.
Garbage Trucks:
Thursday is garbage truck day on our block. Have you ever noticed that garbage trucks always seen to pick up at about 7am? How do they do that? Do they only work from 6 to 7 am and then knock off? How come I have never lived in a neighborhood where they pick up at say, three in the afternoon? It's really odd. My Dad used to joke that garbage collectors had a great job - thirty bucks and hour and all they can eat. And they only work an hour a day!
Lawn Work:
There are no alleys in my neighborhood. The backs of the buildings face each other. Not right up against each other, as there is usually parking behind each building. On Wednesdays, the building just behind ours, which faces our balcony, gets their yard work done. There is no grass, there are only patches of dirt, but at 7am (again at 7 am!!!) a man with a gas engine blower on his back comes to clean the side walks and walk ways of the apartment building. He starts on the second floor. The front doors of the apartments are on an exterior walkway. And he blows all the dirt from the common areas of the building from one side to the other, and then over the porch to the ground below. Then he does the same thing on the first floor, and then he does the side walk beneath the porch that leads to the back of the building where the garbage cans are.
He doesn't sweep, he doesn't pick up anything up, he just blows it around. What a system? And he does it right outside the door of all these apartments. If I am still in bed at seven, which happens once in a while, it sounds like he is in my closet blowing my clothes around, that's how loud the machine is. Maybe once in a while they can come at three in the afternoon and have tea with the garbage men?
Neighbors & Music:
Again, our building is really quiet, but the building in front of ours, and the buildings behind ours, (we're in the back apartment, so those affect us the most) are rather boisterous.
Late night parties where people gather to YELL REALLY LOUDLY are a common occurrence. The music, of course really loud so they can YELL OVER IT, would not be my first choice.
Weekends, there is someone in the adjacent building who feels it is his duty to share his mariachi music with the neighborhood, a sort of community sharing event. But hey, who doesn't like a good mariachi tune to get the day started?
I wish I spoke Spanish, and of course I know I should, but I wish I did so I could understand the lyrics to these songs. I imagine it is, like most pop music I can understand, really deep and touching on the emotions of the human condition.
Dogs:
Dog lovers - skip this section, you won't like it. I myself am not a "dog lover". I don't dislike dogs or domesticated animals, I just don't feel the need or the desire to keep one. I never had a dog growing up, which may be one reason, and the cats that lived in my house - I can't say they were mine - they weren't - never made me a cat person. I appreciate animals, I love the souls that they are, but I don't want to "own" one.
I don't go crazy when I see a puppy or a dog and feel the need to pet the beast. I don't think that "small fit in a purse" dogs are cute. And I wish that all the people who mistreat dogs and other animals -well I wish them a karmic payback some day.
So here is the thing, there is a dog in one of the adjacent building behind mine, that must be let out for only 15 minutes a day, and always at - you guessed it, around 6:30 to 7am. And since the dog doesn't get out much, it feels the need to sing, or bark, loudly and constantly the entire time. There is nothing quite like waking up to a dog barking at 6:30 in the morning, unless of course its a dog barking at a garbage truck, a leaf blower, and a car alarm.
Helicopters:
We live near the 101 Freeway, the 5, and the CA2. Car chases are a fact of life in southern California, and the media helicopters are always nearby to catch it live and can break into the regularly scheduled programming.
It's usually worse during rush hours, but evening helicopters are quite frequent. Yesterday I was watching the news and saw a story about a boy who was burned in a fire in the valley and was being rushed to a medical center in LA by helicopter. Then I left my apartment and drove a few miles to the Goodwill store on Hollywood Blvd, and saw that same helicopter landing on the roof heliport of the children's hospital. That was weird.
Birds:
And last but not least, the birds. The people in the second floor apartment whose balcony is just across from ours have four birds which they keep in two, I'm sorry to say, small cages. The blue and orange birds, (I'm not sure what species they are, but they are bigger than parakeets) are put out on the porch from morning to night, unless it is raining. Birds sing, they talk, they communicate, and sometimes they sing mariachi songs too. Oh, well, what can you say about birds? I wouldn't choose to keep birds in a cage, but of all the noises and sounds around my apartment, it is the most pleasant.
Children:
There are a lot of children in the building around me. That's cool. I like kids. I like hearing them playing and screaming and laughing and fighting. No complaints there.
Well, that's my posting today about my noisy neighborhood. I'm glad it was quiet for an hour so I could write this in peace.
Shhhh.
Peace.
© 2006 Noel Olken
I am an early riser. Maybe it's a habit from working production jobs for so many years, where 4 am and 5 am calls are common, but I just can't sleep late. The problem is that I love to stay up late too, so no matter what time I go to bed, I get up early. But getting up early on your own, or being awakened by something outside are two different things.
So here are some of my noisy tales of woe. What about you? Do you live in a noisy neighborhood? Feel free to share your tales here and I'll post some of your comments.
My building:
Thankfully my building is really quiet. There is a musician living right downstairs, but music is not a problem. I actually like hearing music in the building. Other than that, I barely hear or see my neighbors. Even the kids are quiet.
There is a common washer/dryer area in the hallway, just on the other side of our living room. While I can hear it, so far no one has been doing laundry at 3 AM, so it's not so bad. The advantage however is I just open the door and do my laundry. It's almost like it's in the apartment.
Car alarms:
As usual, in any urban neighborhood, people have car alarms, and this one is no different. The thing about car alarms, is that when one goes off, the only person who DOESN'T hear it is the owner of the car. I also think some people like to hear their car alarms, like it's music to their ears. "Hell, I paid for it, I'm gonna enjoy it". Beep - Bop - Beep!!! Yeah, we all like it as much as you, especially after the 20th time.
Ice Cream Trucks:
At 4:30 pm every afternoon an ice cream truck playing Pop Goes The Weasel comes by and sits on my street for about 15 minutes. The mechanical strains of a digital rendition of this royalty free tune being pumped out of a crackly old speaker soon get me all nostalgic for an Orange Dreamsicle and a sledgehammer with which to destroy the offending speaker. Luckily I don't have one.
The thing about incessant noise is how quiet and lovely it seems when it finally ends. Unfortunately, the silence doesn't last long, because at about 5 pm, just 15 minutes later, another ice cream truck stops on the street in front of my building and it stays there for about 15 minutes also. I don't know the name of the song it plays, but I call it The Really Annoying Song on Ice Cream Truck Number Two.
Garbage Trucks:
Thursday is garbage truck day on our block. Have you ever noticed that garbage trucks always seen to pick up at about 7am? How do they do that? Do they only work from 6 to 7 am and then knock off? How come I have never lived in a neighborhood where they pick up at say, three in the afternoon? It's really odd. My Dad used to joke that garbage collectors had a great job - thirty bucks and hour and all they can eat. And they only work an hour a day!
Lawn Work:
There are no alleys in my neighborhood. The backs of the buildings face each other. Not right up against each other, as there is usually parking behind each building. On Wednesdays, the building just behind ours, which faces our balcony, gets their yard work done. There is no grass, there are only patches of dirt, but at 7am (again at 7 am!!!) a man with a gas engine blower on his back comes to clean the side walks and walk ways of the apartment building. He starts on the second floor. The front doors of the apartments are on an exterior walkway. And he blows all the dirt from the common areas of the building from one side to the other, and then over the porch to the ground below. Then he does the same thing on the first floor, and then he does the side walk beneath the porch that leads to the back of the building where the garbage cans are.
He doesn't sweep, he doesn't pick up anything up, he just blows it around. What a system? And he does it right outside the door of all these apartments. If I am still in bed at seven, which happens once in a while, it sounds like he is in my closet blowing my clothes around, that's how loud the machine is. Maybe once in a while they can come at three in the afternoon and have tea with the garbage men?
Neighbors & Music:
Again, our building is really quiet, but the building in front of ours, and the buildings behind ours, (we're in the back apartment, so those affect us the most) are rather boisterous.
Late night parties where people gather to YELL REALLY LOUDLY are a common occurrence. The music, of course really loud so they can YELL OVER IT, would not be my first choice.
Weekends, there is someone in the adjacent building who feels it is his duty to share his mariachi music with the neighborhood, a sort of community sharing event. But hey, who doesn't like a good mariachi tune to get the day started?
I wish I spoke Spanish, and of course I know I should, but I wish I did so I could understand the lyrics to these songs. I imagine it is, like most pop music I can understand, really deep and touching on the emotions of the human condition.
Dogs:
Dog lovers - skip this section, you won't like it. I myself am not a "dog lover". I don't dislike dogs or domesticated animals, I just don't feel the need or the desire to keep one. I never had a dog growing up, which may be one reason, and the cats that lived in my house - I can't say they were mine - they weren't - never made me a cat person. I appreciate animals, I love the souls that they are, but I don't want to "own" one.
I don't go crazy when I see a puppy or a dog and feel the need to pet the beast. I don't think that "small fit in a purse" dogs are cute. And I wish that all the people who mistreat dogs and other animals -well I wish them a karmic payback some day.
So here is the thing, there is a dog in one of the adjacent building behind mine, that must be let out for only 15 minutes a day, and always at - you guessed it, around 6:30 to 7am. And since the dog doesn't get out much, it feels the need to sing, or bark, loudly and constantly the entire time. There is nothing quite like waking up to a dog barking at 6:30 in the morning, unless of course its a dog barking at a garbage truck, a leaf blower, and a car alarm.
Helicopters:
We live near the 101 Freeway, the 5, and the CA2. Car chases are a fact of life in southern California, and the media helicopters are always nearby to catch it live and can break into the regularly scheduled programming.
It's usually worse during rush hours, but evening helicopters are quite frequent. Yesterday I was watching the news and saw a story about a boy who was burned in a fire in the valley and was being rushed to a medical center in LA by helicopter. Then I left my apartment and drove a few miles to the Goodwill store on Hollywood Blvd, and saw that same helicopter landing on the roof heliport of the children's hospital. That was weird.
Birds:
And last but not least, the birds. The people in the second floor apartment whose balcony is just across from ours have four birds which they keep in two, I'm sorry to say, small cages. The blue and orange birds, (I'm not sure what species they are, but they are bigger than parakeets) are put out on the porch from morning to night, unless it is raining. Birds sing, they talk, they communicate, and sometimes they sing mariachi songs too. Oh, well, what can you say about birds? I wouldn't choose to keep birds in a cage, but of all the noises and sounds around my apartment, it is the most pleasant.
Children:
There are a lot of children in the building around me. That's cool. I like kids. I like hearing them playing and screaming and laughing and fighting. No complaints there.
Well, that's my posting today about my noisy neighborhood. I'm glad it was quiet for an hour so I could write this in peace.
Shhhh.
Peace.
© 2006 Noel Olken
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