Scaring Squirrels

"Boring" History and a Certain Point of View.

2012-02-14T11:24:00.000Z

Good to be back in the swing of things. I've had more good feedback from readers on my current project which I am now revising once again. As such, I'm having to go back to research. Just a few things, but that part of the process carries on.

Writing something based on actual events, the research doesn't really end. And the funny thing is I enjoy it. I hated history at school, even if our teacher was brilliant, intimidating and hilarious (in his way) and now that I am able to look at history on my own terms and in a particular context, I find I really enjoy it. I never would have thought that the Restoration period and the Glorious Revolution in British history (from a Scottish Perspective) would hold my attention the way it does. Finding a good story amongst all of it is the key, I think. Take all of the stuff I might have found boring and look at it through the eyes of someone of the time, as young and impatient as that character may be (and boy, does he have a harsh lesson coming).

Placing a point of view within historical events as expressed by a main character makes it exciting.

On the Up

2012-01-31T12:46:00.001Z

Well, what a couple of miserable few posts I've made recently. January is a terrible month and the old enemy (depression) coupled with some unpleasant events can lead to some dark moods. I've not been looking for sympathy, just to vent a little, which everyone needs to do. So, no apologies. Oh, and the not drinking ting fell to the wayside. Not a problem, but it was a good couple of weeks off and I felt better for it. Moderation as they say. I can never drink more than one day a week really anyway.

Well then, lots to do. I'm still not earning any money from my writing at the moment but sitting on one's arse and complaining only makes it worse. As Adrian Mead says, you get what you put in. This time of year puts me in mind of a friend I lost a few years ago at far too young an age and reminds me how much time we all have. I'm not getting any younger. Essentially, we have nothing to lose in aiming high in life. Keeping disciplined and structuring work is important. I've three writing projects on the go at the moment, all in very different stages. One last revision of a feature involving rewriting scenes the villains appear in, finishing the outline for a horror and the new job collaborating on a sitcom idea, something I've never done before. And so I am trying to structure my day more, making sure that everything that needs me attention gets it and in the proportion it needs.

The days are getting lighter.

New Year Schmear.

2012-01-09T21:52:00.004Z

I ended my last post claiming the next one would be positive. Best laid plans...

Nine days into the year and I haven't blogged. Have I nothing to say? Not sure. Only that I feel that life is dominated by worry right now. Not life threatening, or anything. Just worry and my old friend anxiety. Not earning enough money. At all. One of those times when things seem bleak and I wonder what the point of it all is. Years spent learning about filmmaking and screenwriting and I seem to be nowhere. I feel old and like I'm staggering around in the dark on my own. Really old. Have I wasted the past two decades?

Still trying to write but it's difficult just now. House in partial upheaval at the moment as a good friend of mine of re-doing our woodwork from the just-not-right-at-all dark brown to white. Makes the main hall seem like a different room. A relatively simple task like getting rid of dark outlines makes a hell of a difference.

Quit booze. Made a fool of myself on New Year's Day. A week into sobriety and have been tested a few times already and didn't fall off the wagon. Resolute. Good. I don't want a drink again for a long time. Even a few pints will make me tired the following day and getting pished knocks me over for two days. This isn't age. Always been that way.

Looking at some of the yo-yo nature of my posts, I sometimes wonder if I'm bi-polar. Unlikely. But the niggling little thought about mild Aspergers still pecks away. Not something to be joked about.

Who knows what the rest of the year will bring? Something better, I hope.

It's good to vent.

Hogmanay Humbug.

2011-12-31T19:13:00.001Z

Well, it's that time of year again. It's end.

I kind of can't be arsed with New Year. We're supposed to be the best at ringing in the New Year in Scotland but I just don't get it. I had Hogmanay stuffed down my throat as a kid and developed a bit of an aversion to the whisky/shortbread/JimmyfuckingShand Scottish cheese. I had fun in my late teens and early 20's getting thoroughly pished in the centre of Edinburgh but it stopped being fun around 1997 when there were massive crushes and rumours that someone even died in town. Just not for me, really. Christmas is done and I get eager to get on with things.

But I suppose I ought to take a little stock and reflect in the year a little.

I finally made another short film.
I made some more good friends on the filmmaking side of things.
I found a fair deal of confidence in my creative abilities.
Yet another draft of a feature was completed.
I saw nowhere near as many films as I like to due to unsociable employment hours.
Unsociable employment hours ended when I was laid off.
We had some heartbreak when we lost a member of our household. We miss you, Midge.
My wee sister got married. Am I really that grown up?
Was proud as anything to see my friend's first feature on the big screen at the BFI. Well done, Jon.
Possibly confused a former member of Ride in the pub.
Went to a couple of more gigs. Even if it was the same band twice (Warrior Soul - the guitarists are nice blokes).
Had my view at a film showing partly obscured by Dylan Moran's hair.
Didn't see enough of my friends.
Caught up with a good friend I'd not seen in over a year, which was odd for that relationship.
I simply got older and achieved nowhere near as much as I wanted.
Saw more of my wife. The best thing of all.

I wish I could say more about this year. Maybe I'm missing some obviously big things.

Well, there's a lot to get on with. Bring it, 2012. And no, the Myans didn't say shit about the end of the world. They just stopped their calendar. Why are we so obsessed with our mortality to such an extent that we let it get in the way of things?

In our next blog entry, something positive.

Faith, discovery and all of that shit...

2011-12-13T00:17:00.003Z

One of the things I love about writing and creating stories is the early stage, where an idea can go anywhere if you let it. And I do that by constantly asking questions about my characters and the story possibilities. I don't like to be too tied down to an idea at the beginning, but the idea has to be strong enough and formed enough for me to warrant asking questions about it. I create documents where I kind of brainstorm; I write stuff down about the story but I also write down anything that pops into my head about said idea. And so, in beginning to really try and flesh out a science fiction short script, I find that questions galore raise their heads. I literally write these questions down as I brainstorm and see where they lead me. A lot of them get scribbled out. But not all of them. In fact I probably spend too much time doing these questions but I find it invaluable - you never know what you're going to get. But not chocolates.

I don't know if it's the fact that I'm writing a science fiction story, but the particular idea I have is definitely raising lots of questions, not just about plot and character but about deeper ideas (I know, potential wankiness could ensue) that make me consider the ramifications of the story. Or, is this story saying something about me? I've always loved the genre deeply - sci-fi on TV in the 1970's forms a fair chunk of my earliest memories, thanks to my Dad - and while I love the surface, whizz bang of a lot of it, the genre acts to ask questions about ourselves in a way I don't think many other genres really do. Like a dealer on a corner, Star Wars and the original Star Trek were my gateway drugs to stuff like Philip K. Dick and Isaac Asimov. But I still consider myself less literate than I ought to be.

One line of questioning has drawn me up a religious alleyway. I'm pretty much agnostic these days but raised Catholic (like Dara O'Briein says, just when you think you're out, they draw you back in!) and lots of questions linger, particularly about faith. Not just religious faith but lots of different kinds. Even just the concept of faith alone. And I find myself reluctant to push that too far as I feel that religion and questions regarding it can be very dicey territory. I don't want the idea in this script to be about religion so I have to find a way of drawing out the theme of faith in a more universal way. Right now in the world, I find too many people using ideas and questions about faith in order to push their own absolute ideas, be they religious or atheist; like I say, I'm agnostic and personally do not believe that anyone has the right to tell anyone else what to believe, unless it oppresses people, something I find on both sides of the modern religious arguments. In fact, to such a point that I have about as much contempt for hardcore atheists as I do for religious fundamentalists. Dogma is dogma.

And so I feel very anxious that I try and get this idea down on paper (and on screen, eventually) in a way that, while I hope it might encourage discussion, is told responsibly enough that it raises positive questions and doesn't fall prey to the twistings of certain ideas.

That's the thing I've discovered about writing and creating stories - everything matters and you have a responsibility as a writer and creator not just to the story but also to yourself and your ideas. If you have an idea and tell it the wrong way or write it in such a way that you lose sight of what made you write it in the first place then you do yourself a disservice as a person. Heavy shit. Is that the difference between a hack and a real writer? Not that I'd ever describe myself in the latter form, but the desire to stay true to an idea and my own feelings on a subject seems to be more and more important as I write more. A fear of audiences finding the wrong meaning (if there's such a thing) in my idea, or taking it too seriously.

All that wank about writing and discovery is true, it turns out. And to think this all came about from a daft idea about new stars in the night sky.

White-ish

2011-12-04T11:52:00.001Z

Winter, I hate. Christmas, I love. It snowed last night, a light dusting of the "white shite" as I posted on Facebook. I just don't want a repeat of the last two winters when we were snowed on from a great height.

A polish of my feature script is about to commence along with the commencement of another feature. Depending on how confident I'm feeling after that I may go looking for an agent and for that I'll need a proper game plan. No sense in chasing just any agent. You need to kknow both who to approach and how to make yourself attractive as a client to them. Life is short. No sense in faffing about thinking, "I'll do it tomorrow".

Also got an outline for a promo for a campaign I've said I'll do. That and a short script. I also have another short I might give a polish to. A mock-doc. Black comedy. Pretty sick actually. A man eating himself for charity.

I haven't been to the cinema for over 5 weeks now. What the hell is going on there? Well, actually, I have been. I went to see my friend Jon Spira's film, Anyone Can Play Guitar, at the Cameo last week, complete with Mark Gardener of Ride doing an acoustic spot at the end. Nice bloke (but his set was cut short towards the end as the old lady who lives above the cinema complained about the noise!). Good film as well. You can buy the DVD at the link above. Quite proud of my mate for actually making the thing. Very from the heart and Jon is possibly the most passionate music fan amongst my circle of friends. He loves movies but he loves music and I think he' done his hometown of Oxford proud by showing the music that came from there.

No sense in not doing things. Now, where is that Ikea cabinet I've got to build...?

On with the Show

2011-11-11T14:43:00.001Z

Been a while since my last blog post. Well, whatever.

Our film didn't win the competition it was entered into but I didn't expect to win anyway. We got some nice positive votes on the competition website, though, and I'm presently sifting through a couple of ideas for our next one. Yep, we intend to carry on. The shoot was great and our crew were a lovely, productive and efficient bunch to work with.

Next time is definitely going to be my own idea and script and longer. My own stuff is pretty far removed from the script we eventually made; I tend to go for sci fi, horror and some pitch black comedy and the two ideas I'm playing with are definitely along those lines. That stuff and they way we can express certain fears and ideas through it is what interests me the most. So on with the next film.

The feature script I recently finished has also had some nice praise from a source I respect and admire so I;m feeling pretty good about that as well. However, I need more under my belt feature-wise if I;m going to seriously think about approaching agents. One or two feature scripts are not enough, in my opinion. I need to make myself look like an attractive proposition to an agent (stop sniggering, you cheeky feckers) and being able to do more than one type of story and having more ideas developed on paper is essential. A new job is taking up my mornings but all the better. Existing in an essentially penniless state doesn't help me get on or boost my confidence one iota.

All in, a productive couple of weeks in October and early November. Good. The prospect of stagnating in a chair, wasting time on the Internet is less and less appealing.

Film Done

2011-10-21T18:54:00.000+01:00

Well, we did it. This time last week, our short only existed on paper and now it's all done. We shot it on Tuesday with the help of a lot of brilliant people to whom I am extremely grateful. I spent the last few days editing it together and fixing some of the sound today (I have a few issues with what I did soundwise, but it's done).

So, here it is, Everything You Need from a script written by David Turner:

It looks fabulous thanks to Simon Vickery behind the lens, shooting on a Canon 7D DSLR. I'm amazed at the results we got and any flaws are down to me. It's a constant learning process. I'm also amazed that I simply decided to make a film and then went and did it. What with the new short and completing a feature screenplay recently, this his has been the most productive couple of weeks for about 10 years for me.

And I want to do nothing but make another, longer film now. Got to keep moving.

Plunge Taken.

2011-10-17T22:35:00.000+01:00

We're shooting a one minute short film tomorrow. It's weird - I've made films of varying lengths before, fiction, documentaries, even a corporate for the Scottish Government which was to be watched by the then Minister for Education, and yet I'm more apprehensive about shooting one minute tomorrow. I guess that's me taking it seriously. But it has been a while since I've made any films. The last was in 2006 and was a mock version of those old public service films we used to get in the UK. Except that one was about zombies.

I have a great crew, a great actor and a lot of goodwill on my side. It's mine to fuck up.

Here we go again.

Filmmaking again. At last.

2011-10-11T19:46:00.000+01:00

And so, I'm finally making a film again. Even if it only supposed to be one page long. I've finished the latest draft of my current feature screenplay and want to take advantage of the time available. I feel I've got loads of energy now I've done the draft which is now sitting with the Powers That Be.

We're entering the Four Days in August competition, being run by the chaps at Living Spirit Pictures and The London Screenwriters Festival (an event I really need to get to but the wallet disallows). The first half of the competition was about entering a one page script and the winner would be selected to be made by entrants to the second half of the competition. The theme is the riots in England a few months ago.

Still with me?

As it turns out, two scripts have been selected and we've gone for one of them (obviously). I've not made a film for quite a while and want this one to be good. Well, you should want every film you make to be good. I've teamed up with an MFA student at Screen Academy Scotland and a few other folks in the Scottish filmmaking community. We've literally no budget but will get the job done.

We're keeping a production blog and also have a Twitter feed dedicated for the film. Twitter still kind of baffles me but you have to take advantage of as much as you can these days, not that this will affect the outcome of the film or the competition but we want the film to have a presence outside of the competition. I've my own tweed feed as well, which I update even less than this blog.

We're shooting next Tuesday, most likely in Glasgow. One location, one character onscreen with no dialogue, another character offscreen with dialogue. It may be only for one minute but there is still a lot of work to do to get it up onscreen and ready for the competition deadline, Friday 21st October. I'm anxious that this goes well and am pretty nervous about it all. I just need to keep on top of it all and make sure our 60 seconds really count.

I want this ball to keep rolling and make more films after this. I've definitely sat on my arse too long in that respect.

Jobs

2011-10-06T09:54:00.001+01:00

I have never owned a single piece of Apple tech in my life. My wife has an iPhone. She's never far from it and I see how important it is to her.

But what I do know is that I love Pixar. The proper marriage of technology and true, honest storytelling. Something the rest of Hollywood, or even the world, fails to get right time and time again.

Reading Steve Jobs commencement speech to Stanford in 2005, specifically his third story, I feel like I really need to make major changes. Losing a good friend two years ago gave me a kick and I often think of the loss of Neil and what he wasn't able to accomplish. But old lazy habits still prevail. However, Jobs' speech puts it into more concrete terms

So, Mr Jobs, thank you for Pixar.

And I will endeavour to stay hungry and foolish.

Geek Parenting Done Right

2011-10-03T13:46:00.002+01:00

I could not let this go by and let other folks miss it. Guys of a certain age will remember the thoughts going through the minds of these kids (and I'm sure some girls too, but it always seemed to be a boy thing when I was young, so no shouting at me, ladies).

So, how cool is their dad?

Amazing. Obviously, their dad has started them with Star Wars (I resisted calling it A New Hope when I was a kid and still do to this day) and then proceeded in production order and not the order Lucas now wants us to see them in - does he not realise the power that this revelation still holds? Obviously not. Well, regardless of the prequels, we can still watch them in the order they were made and see how the story unfurled in its most effective way.

However, when The Empire Strikes Back first came out, a kid in the year above me in primary school, who had all the toys and assumed the position of biggest Star Wars fan in school (seriously, he got fucking snobby about it to other kids, like he was better than us.) saw Empire on its opening day and proceeded to tell everyone in the school dining room about all the big secrets in the movie!

Y'know, just in case...

I believe his smug words went something like, "Yeah, I saw The Empire Strikes Back and Luke Skywalker gets his hand cut off and Darth Vader is really his father and Han Solo gets frozen."

As we say in Scotland, what a bawbag. If that happened today, he'd get a proper slapping about.

I don't have kids and will always be eternally envious of other guys who get to share this moment with their kids in this way.

Still one of the greatest shock scenes in movie history.

Animatronic Kudos Deserved.

2011-09-28T23:12:00.001+01:00

Godzilla's pal, Gorosaurus. Man in suit! Man in suit!

I just got finished watching a documentary on BBC4 about the depiction of dinosaurs throughout cinema history. And I have to say I'm pretty pissed at it.

In terms of the modern depictions mentioned, Jurassic Park was obviously the big mention. And well deserved as well as it's still brilliant. I saw it on the big screen at the weekend on re-release with a shiny new digital print and it's lost none of its thrill and wonder.

What has partially pissed me off is the cynical discussion of CGI in the documentary. Jurassic Park gets the lion's share of attention but the 1998 version of Godzilla and Peter Jackson's remake of King Kong are also brought up, mainly to slag off "Hollywood" (completely omitting to mention that 98's Godzilla was written and directed by a German) and also to have various critics appear in the usual head shots to criticise CGI saying that it has given filmmakers too much power. This is a fair argument, as any shiny new tool that brings in audiences will guarantee its overuse and dilution, even if it was as one sided as usual. However, it's not the criticism of CGI that has annoyed me, but the complete lack of any mention of the puppets involved.

Everybody who thinks visual effects in movies today automatically thinks of CGI and nothing else, never talking about people like Stan Winston or the Henson Workshop, making incredible prosthetics and animatronics that should blend seamlessly with CGI. Everything has its place on the screen, all coming together to create the ultimate illusion. An entire industry, a while slew of craftspeople and artists who work their behinds off are ignored because lazy programme writers want to go for the obvious. The T-Rex attack on the cars in Jurassic Park is a great example of the two techniques being combined for the sake of the shot. A full body animatronic T-Rex was built and is seen in its entirety in several shots (one or two shots have the puppet do one thing in the frame, leave the frame and re-enter as CG, doing what puppets cannot) and I've read that Spielberg was adamant that CG be used where animatronics would not would, not filling the screen with CG as so many people like to think. Nor did the programme makers stop to consider that Jurassic Park was the first movie of its kind to attempt to show the anatomy of dinosaurs and how they truly might have moved in a more accurate light (although, paleontology being the science it is, ideas and theories are constantly shifting). It might not have been spot on, but at least they tried.

I suppose it is true that the CG work as amazing when it blends so well with live action puppets but I get so annoyed when people generalise about VFX like this. It's lazy, it's cynical and its insulting to the people who create these creatures. A look at the work of Guillermo del Toro is a great example, particularly in Pan's Labyrinth and Hellboy 2, where huge creatures are not necessarily CGI but sophisticated puppets featuring more intricate design than most high end computers would be able to render. The full bodied puppet used for the troll, Wink, is amazing. And what's more, light shines off them naturally, which must surely be the bane of a CG modeller and lighter - it's always a give away.

This even goes for virtual sets as well. In The Lord of the Rings trilogy and the Star Wars Prequel trilogy, so many shots of wide environments, such as the city of Minas Tirith, Helm's Deep, the Podrace Arena or Chewbacca's home world of Kashyyk, are based around huge miniature sets that are augmented by CG. Model and puppet making are not extinct as people say and are still around. I only wish people would talk about them more instead of insecurely concentrating on shouting about CG. It only feeds the ignorance of the audience.

Which is not to say that I'm anti-CGI. I'm not. In fact I've had a few loud debates where I've wound up defending CGI. But everything has its place and it rarely takes one technique to create the fantastic.

Well, rant over. I'm off to watch scantily clad cave women be harassed by stop motion dinosaurs. Or get a Lemsip and sleep. Whichever first. God bless the BBC, despite my rant.

Banner

2011-09-26T20:54:00.001+01:00

Mike Reilly as Baal, DP Dan Starborg in the background, Ben Mawdsley camera assisting and me pretending I know what I'm doing.

I've added a new banner to the top of the page, once again from my old short, Baal and Ben, cut from the picture above.

I know some friends who are likely to say, "Jeez, Brian, this was too long ago! Put it away! Don't wallow in the past!". Well, I agree. In part. But writing is such a lonely and at times horrid activity that it's far too easy to lose sight of things.

I still want to make films as well as sit and write them. Looking at some of the old stills from Baal and Ben, I'm now quite proud of what we pulled off for very little money (shot on 16mm for £1,300), even if I found it hard to watch at the time. And, yes, it was a long time ago. But I look at those stills and remember what I was capable of and feel encouraged. And it reminds me of the reaction it got at it's first screening, which was very good. Head swellingly good. Finding encouragement as a writer can be very difficult and if no one else is around (but people normally are) to keep you going during those black moments then you need to draw upon yourself and what you've achieved.

I've made a few more shorts since then, but this is the one that always sticks with me. I need to know I've done it before and can do it again.

If you feel lost, always think back to what you've achieved, regardless of whether it's a film or not. If no one else is encouraging you, sod 'em and push yourself.

So, there it is. Another unnecessary justification for my actions.

Back to the page.

Reading before Re-Writing

2011-09-26T16:12:00.000+01:00

Going through the latest draft of my current project before I start making notes on subsequent revisions. Oh yes, there will be several revisions, each looking at different aspects of the thing. I have to take my normally undisciplined mind and force it to be methodical. But on reading this latest draft...

Good god.

Lots to fix, trim, replace and improve. One of the hardest things is not to try and tinker with it as I'm reading and just absorb the whole thing. Really not easy (I've changed a couple of lines already).

And besides, here I am blogging instead of reading.

After Effects

2011-09-22T10:21:00.001+01:00

Well, after a spectacularly horrendous weekend, things have to go on. Even losing an animal member of the household puts things into perspective. Those old thoughts of mortality push you onwards.

So, I'm glad I've finished a third draft of my current project. Very relieved but there is still work to do. I'm going to let it stew on it's own for a week before I set about revising it. I already know I have to lose at least 15 pages (it clocks in at 134 pages right now) so one pretty expendable sub plot is for the chop, some scenes are going to be combined and there is still some character work to do. It's taken me far too long, however, eve if it is a page one re-write. A hell of a lot of re-working. My two lead characters share the same relationship but they are significantly different in their social standing and ages. A few years off someone's age can make a huge difference to them as a character. And I'm hoping that the exposition which dragged the previous draft down is now far more subtle and woven into the story and experienced by the reader/audience as it is by the main character.

But, milestones are milestones and I'm glad this one has finally been reached. Some other ideas which have been floating around my skull and notebooks are going to get some long overdue attention now.

I feel a reward viewing of Aliens on Blu-Ray and the new Anthrax album coming on. After housework.

Midge

2011-09-16T15:52:00.000+01:00

Our hearts are broken.

She was the centre of my wife's world and the heart of our home. Loving, fierce, very definitely the Boss (our dogs knew their place with her) and utterly devoted to my wife.

Sleep well, Midge, and thank you for all the love you gave us.

Today

2011-09-16T13:33:00.000+01:00

Today is an emotional and very, very hard day. I wish it was because of something as relatively piffling as work but it's not. I want it to be over but I wish it hadn't started at all.

There is so much love in our house.

Better Luck Next Time, Conan.

2011-09-02T13:10:00.002+01:00

Conan the Barbarian.

I was left with an intense desire to stick the Milius version on when I got home.

However, Jason Mamoa is actually pretty good as Conan; his enthusiasm is there to see on screen and is backed up with his own recent comments on the character and his desire to actually write a Conan screenplay himself. He could surpass Arnie with the character if they made another one.

Contrary to early fanboy fears, it is pretty damn violent and is actually quite mental in that sense.

But how can a film so frenetic and willfully gleeful in its comic violence be so damn dull? With each loud bang or musical cue signifying anything happening onscreen, I actually felt like I was being lulled to sleep. Some of the violence is pretty damn funny and there are some standout moments but these are diluted by the sheer dipshit direction and writing on display.

Completely formulaic and predicable with some supporting characters and sidekicks who appear and disappear at will, not doing very much, just serving the odd purpose and leaving. Little in the way of character arcs for anyone and an inexplicable and frankly inappropriate narration from Morgan Freeman. Even the Milius version, as nuts as it is, had Conan on a decent character journey, experiencing loss, punishment for folly and emerging maybe slightly different at the end. Slightly.

I'm just glad I didn't see it in 3D but I felt the film was relying on that too much, given the narrative standards on display in the 2D version I saw.

Better luck next time. Shit film but I wouldn't mind seeing Mamoa as Conan again so long as the film is made by other people who give a shit about proper movies.

Croatia Pics

2011-08-30T12:59:00.000+01:00

No one asked for it but you're getting some pictures anyway. Like it. Obey me.

Stunning. And we had dinner onboard her as well.

Dubrovnik seen from quite a long way away.

One of the views from the evening cruise.

Our free concert, as seen from one of our windows.

Mostar, in Bosnia & Herzegovina. Too damn hot.

So, there we are. A nice time was had, even if I can't be arsed taking too many photos. I prefer to soak it in.

Croatia and Other Things

2011-08-30T09:06:00.000+01:00

More blogless weeks.

Just back from a week's holiday in Dubrovnik in Croatia. Very hot (too hot at times) but also very beautiful. A fantastic walled city on the Croatian coast that is the ideal fortress and must have inspired the archetypal pirate fortress as seen in countless movies. In fact, many of the other towns along the coast had to build away from the coast as they had no natural defenses against the marauders inhabiting the clear waters of the Adriatic. I've never seen water like it before (also went in for a little dip despite my lack of swimming ability). The Croatians are very proud of their clean and clear water, full of fish and other lifey type things.

We were there at the tail end of the Festival of Dubrovnik and were treated to a live, open air concert from the Croatian Symphony Orchestra which we could see and hear from our apartment overlooking the main square. The first night was a little irritating as they were simply rehearsing. At midnight. Drifting off to sleep as some soft, classical music breezes on is nice. Being woken up with a start ten minutes later by the opening bars of Carmen at full blast is not so nice. We also heard what we presumed was a female singer, a soprano we reckoned. Very nice. The next night was the occasion of the actual concert and we stuck our heads out of the window, listening to the music and the lovely, light singing only to realise what we thought was a female singer was in fact a male contralto, Max Emanuel Cencic, rather camp and wearing a shawl and cloth cap. I honestly thought that it was not possible for a man to make that kind of noise but there we are. He was very impressive. The concert was also being broadcast live on TV as well, offering a better view, if four seconds out of sync with the outdoor proceedings. But it was a very special thing to see on holiday. And free.

What was sobering was the realisation that many of the buildings we saw had been repaired or rebuilt after the Balkans war of the 1990's. Some buildings are still riddles with bullet holes and many of the homes we saw outside Dubrovnik and during our trips to Montenegro and Bosnia & Herzegovina (specifically the nice but far too hot town of Mostar) were brand new, so sweeping had been the destruction of the past. In fact a very old bridge in Mostar had been completely destroyed in the war and was now fully rebuilt from its original stones and bricks. Impressive to say the least. And yet there seemed to be no tension between the different peoples of the countries we went to, possibly because the Serb Nationalists who caused so much of the devastation are in the minority and in Serbia.

I wonder if the differing tribes of Libya are going to be so forgiving and understanding now Gadaffi is out of power.

I didn't take too many pictures (although my shutterbug wife took 600!) but may post some soon.

As always with me there's a movie catch to the trip. On the way to Montenegro, we passed through the tunnel featured in the car chase from the opening of Quantum of Solace. Not the best Bond film but not the worst either and always good to see a movie location.

Vid stuff

2011-07-28T12:18:00.000+01:00

I don't really post random vids but these amused me.

First up, my childhood hero reveals why there were never sequels to the original Star Wars movies.

Love it.

And now the late and very great Vivian Stanshall sums up a lot of what happens in my head.

Vive la grump.

A Blogless Month

2011-07-25T11:28:00.000+01:00

Another blogless month. Not sure what I've been doing to prevent a blog entry. Nothing massive but maybe nothing that I felt warranted an entry.

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2? Brilliant. I had no idea it would be as good as it was, considering I did not really like the previous three films. The final scene was nicely judged and the inclusion of some of John Williams piece, "Leaving Hogwarts", from the first film really helped it and brought a slight tear. But some of it was still mishandled, especially Snape's story. Always room for improvement.

Green Lantern. What a bloody shame.

Still, sunny days (after some of the worst and prolonged rain I can remember) and time spent in the garden. Nice.

About to lose my job in a few weeks but while the albeit small amount of pay is useful, I'm glad I'll have some time to get on with some other things like my writing, which should really be my primary focus. So I'm still scribbling away. Nearly finished the 3rd draft of a feature and beginning work on a sci-fi short.

Focus, sir. Focus.

Well, best get on with it.

The Difference Between This and That.

2011-06-21T15:47:00.000+01:00

I pride myself in some of the lowbrow aspects of my sense of humour. Everyone ought to have more than one level to theirs. So Jackass has been known to reduce me to tears on occasion. Watching those lads do the daftest and stupidest things in the name of entertainment. Sometimes I have felt a little guilty at laughing at some of it but they're up for it.

Ryan Dunn was one of my favourites on Jackass. He seemed a decent bloke and I heard good things about him from a friend who met him once. A particular stunt when he went snorkeling in a waste tank was one of those ones where the real danger wasn't revealed until after the stunt was finished and his reaction proved that he wasn't as brainless about his safety as one might have thought - the bottom of the waste tank consisted of mechanical choppers that would have torn him to shreds if his feet had become entangled. This was a stunt for entertainment purposes and he wouldn't have done it had he known. Safety first in the business.

So, what's the difference between the safety aspects of that kind of thing and everyday life? None. Because when you're dead, you're dead.

Getting into a sports car when you're drunk is beyond stupid. It's reckless, thoughtless, beyond dangerous and incredibly stupid. You put more than your own life at risk. There are passengers, other road users and pedestrians to think of. And so while Dunn's death is a tragedy for his family and friends there is also the death of his passenger, Zachary Hartwell, to consider. I don't care what Roger Ebert says or how Bam Margera reacts to him, but Dunn's decision to get into that car, knowing full well how pished he was, has battered Hartwell's family also.

If he was as drunk as witnesses have suggested, Ryan Dunn was responsible for the death of Zachary Hartwell, as well as his own. Putting your own life at such huge risk is one thing, but placing a friend in that position as well? What do I know, I'm just another blogger.

I don't understand the attitude of some folks in the US towards drinking and driving. In the UK, it results in driving bans and jail terms. It's that serious. In fact there is a concerted effort by the Police over here to have an outright ban on drinking and driving. People die. Innocent people die. DON'T DO IT. Only last year in the relatively large village where I live, a cyclist was knocked down and killed by a drunk driver only a few hundred yards from our house. On Gala Day, so lots of children and families were around.

I liked Ryan Dunn and had an odd respect for him regarding what he did with the Jackass and CKY boys. I never knew the guy but all it takes is one mistake in such a serious situation. One mistake. His death is both sad and ironic on a couple of levels. But so is the death of Zachary Hartwell. You could argue that he shouldn't have got in the car either. It's academic now.

What a fucking shame.

Fake Muppets

2011-06-19T12:17:00.000+01:00

I love the Muppets. With a passion. I've got as much of The Muppet Show in DVD as I can legally get my hands on and remember watching a fair bit of it when it was first broadcast on UK television. Sunday evenings on ITV. Loved it, even if some of it did scare me a bit (Crazy Harry in particular). In fact my wife doesn't like me having the DVD on as it still scares her a bit. There was a genuine sense of lunacy and love on display that came directly from not just Jim Henson and Frank Oz but from a unique collection of performers who seemed intent on making each other laugh. You can hear them over canned laughter sometimes. I also love the first two movies but Muppets Take Manhattan just didn't do it for me. And then Jim Henson died. That was the first time I ever actually shed a tear when someone famous died (the other time when Christopher Reeve). It really knocked me for six.

But the Muppets had to continue. And so they did. The mantle of Kermit was passed on to Steve Whitmire. But as time went on more and more performers left due to age, other commitments or death (Richard Hunt's passing was also a punch to the gut). Voices were replaced as more films and TV specials came out. And I couldn't help but think that things just weren't the same anymore. Even Gonzo (my favourite Muppet ever), still performed by his creator Dave Goelz, seemed restrained and downplayed, his screeching enthusiasm for all things deviant nothing more than a sentimental murmur. The lunacy and unpredictability of the show seemed lost.

But now we are getting a new theatrical Muppet film, taking them back to their roots, simply called The Muppets.

I really thought I'd be happy about this. Everyone I know on Facebook seems to love it. Iwant to like it.I really do. But it's just not the same. Yes, it looks a lot better than Muppets From Space - whomever came up with the idea that Gonzo is an alien needs a slap. He's a WEIRDO, not an alien! Or even a Frackle (not Fraggle) - but the changes in the performers mean more than just slightly different voices.

The original performers brought so much of themselves to it all back in the day that it would be tough for anyone to try and replace them. But the original souls of the characters just don't seem there anymore. Whitmire's Kermit and Henson's Kermit are completely different now, it seems. The more recent Kermit seems too nice and lacks Henson's sense of outright cheek and charm. Fozzie lacks his anxiety and delusion and has gained an odd overbite. And Miss Piggie? It's like someone else puppeteering Rod Hull's Emu. The threat is gone. I don't want to see Crazy Harry wearing a hard hat. I want him to blow everything up at random and terrify me again. I don;t want imitations but surely a little more of what made the originals so much fun is in order?

Fair play to the new Muppeteers. They have enormous shoes to fill. But the characters just don't seem to be there anymore for me. I'll see the new film, but I'll be walking in with a lot of baggage.

Seems I grew up.

Random Catch Up

2011-06-16T11:10:00.001+01:00

Not much of note happening recently but I feel guilty about not blogging nowadays.

Last Monday saw another Shooters in the Pub event. A good night (even if I was a little more squiffy than I'd have liked to have been. Dinner first next time) and a few business cards were exchanged and some more good contacts made. I guess the key to networking, once the fear subsides, is just keeping it going.

I was on a team for this month's Filmhouse quiz (well, I had to leave before the final round, but I did my bit) and we came fifth which is one hell of a leap up from the past. Nice.

I also caught two Humphrey Bogart / Nicholas Ray films on the big screen that weekend, In a Lonely Place and Knock on Any Door. The big screen is still the best place to catch old movies (any movies, actually!) Both very good if a little depressing. Knock on Any Door was basically an accusation at the US for it's attitude to youth crime (watch for Bogie's great but overblown summation speech to the entire courtroom and country) and had a hard hitting end that brought to mind the climax of Angels With Dirty Faces only without the screaming. I preferred In a Lonely Place, which also featured Gloria Graham and had a much more of a thriller spirit even if it was in danger of veering into melodrama at times.

I'll likely not get to see anything if much at all at this year's Edinburgh International Film Festival but there are some free outdoor screenings going on, including a couple of screenings of Raiders of the Lost Ark which I am going to have to get to. Indiana Jones was 30 years old a few days ago. That should make me feel old but it doesn't. That movie is still as fresh as it ever was and the action is still a great as it ever was, primarily due, I think, to that fact that it was all done onscreen with real stunts, something more movies ought to be remembering. I loved that fact that on set wire work was obviously used on X-Men: First Class for much of Banshee's action scenes at the end. Real sunlight reflecting of a real performer.

Ye cannae beat it.

Childhood Ultra Violence Remembered

2011-06-02T12:28:00.003+01:00

This is pretty much the best thing I've seen in a long time. Created by the French video artists, Megaforce, I think this is strictly speaking a music video but it also happens to be the greatest and most authentic rendering of how we really imagined our fictitious gunplay as little boys and girls since the two finger shootout scenes in Spaced (here's scene one, which is my fave, and scene two).

Well, it is for me anyway.

Even into our early teens, if we weren't creating seriously bloody effects with Fairy Liquid bottles, tubing and a secret blood recipe when armed with video cameras, we were shooting each other off of our bikes with our water bottles, spreading H2O death around the streets, annoying certain mothers and frightening the neighbours. The bit with the old lady rings very true and was a running gag with us for a while. I also remember two of us walking along the street with a fake severed head (it was meant to be me) and convincing some younger kids that it was real and we were very sad our friend had had his head cut off in some freak accident.

Yes, this is meant to be me, circa 1989. I can grimace with the best of 'em.

The thing is, this happened again to a bunch of us about 18 months ago back in the pub when presented with red feather boas by a team selling Jaegermeister. I may have to dig out some photo's of feathery, bloody death. Our other halves possess an unreal sense of patience.

Ah, the sweetness of childhood...

Edinburgh Done Emmerich Style

2011-05-19T13:13:00.000+01:00

To the right of the devastation is where I work. This would indeed be worse than the snow last winter.

Just read about a new short film being produced in Edinburgh called Boat, spearheaded by a chap named David Lumsden. Unashamedly riffing on The Road, it's about a father and son struggling to survive in a post-apocalyptic Edinburgh, now submerged in several metres of water. And these guys have done their visual research. Not just Prince's Street underwater, but those evil high rise flats at Sighthill now crumble at lapping waves and the Forth Road Bridge is left to rot.

Amazing to see this kind of imagery set around places I know and the fact that people are making films like this featuring VFX. I'm a huge advocate of Scottish films ceasing to obsess with social realism (not entirely, just think about the other audiences out there) and use the setting for more universal and even fantastical stories. We've a huge history of myth and legend here and it never seems to be drawn on effectively.

Have to say, I really want to see this.

Boat - the website
Edinburgh Evening News article on Boat.

Edinburgh Screenwriters Event.

2011-05-19T12:01:00.000+01:00

I'm breaking out of the house again today (well, actually I break out every weekday to go to my evening temp drudgery but that doesn't register as breaking out with me). Off into Edinburgh this evening for one of the monthly events organised by the Edinburgh Screenwriters Group, a part of Scottish Screenwriters. They meet up every four weeks to network, swap stories of experiences, workshop short scripts or excerpts and often have speakers. This evening they're playing host to David Bishop, writer of several episodes of Doctors and Nina and the Neurons, copious tie-in novels, Doctor Who audio dramas and tutor on the Creative Writing MA at Screen Academy Scotland. Also an acquaintance during our time studying the Screenwriting MA at SAS and all round good egg.

Again, it'll be good to be around other writers and interesting to hear what David has to say about his own experiences and any advice he has. His blog is pretty damn good as well and recommended reading.

Attending these things is becoming more important to me. There is cross pollination between the above event and the monthly Shooters in the Pub meet ups, showing that there is indeed a growing community of filmmakers in Edinburgh who are getting out there and doing stuff without relying on the no longer existent seemingly unobtainable subsidies we once had.

The Script Factory - Industry Script Reading

2011-05-18T12:37:00.001+01:00

Well, Blogger failing last week led me to stray from my intended blog about the course I attended in London last week. But here it is anyway.

Getting into Script Reading has been on my mind for a while now. The idea for me is to try and supplement my income (or not have to continue my rotten temp job) and improve my own writing by reading more screenplays but as with any aspect of the industry, it's tough to get into and being able to say you've got some experience or qualification in Script Reading has to be a boost of some kind. So I enrolled in The Script Factory's one day course in Industry Script Reading and got my arse down to London for it. And a good time was had, both on the course and in the pub.

Anyone looking to get into it is likely to benefit from attending one of these courses and The Script Factory's seemed pretty damn good, with a tutor who knew what he was talking about, delivering it clearly. The other people attending came from a variety of backgrounds and all had varying levels of experience in screenplay writing, reading and/or development, some very new to the game and some veterans. So a good deal of what we were taught that day might have come as something new to some of the group. For me, a chunk of it was about taking what I already know about screenwriting and turning it around, using it to deconstruct instead of construct. This also served as a good reminder of what to do and not do as a writer. Working on your own in one room can make you forget certain aspects of the craft. Feedback is vital and I need to get my work out to people again.

Just as important (but something most of the courses I've done have failed to include) was information about actually getting employment within the industry as a reader. It's a daunting prospect. Readers are not paid well (this is not a job that can sustain a living), there are several levels of experience required for different sections of the industry and you can spend more time seeking employment than getting the work itself.

But that's no reason to be put off, as far as I'm concerned. We have to be prepared to exist at the bottom with little return if we're in it for the long game, and I am (my whole bleedin' life, so far). I'm still holding on to the old maxims about persistence and hard work (need to hold on to that latter one a but harder, I think) paying back in the long run.

So, I have to do some sample coverage and feedback reports and get my ass out there. Doing a course is one thing. Making sure you've got samples to back yourself up is another.

Read more. Write better.

Lundun!

2011-05-12T15:07:00.000+01:00

Got back from four days in London yesterday and still pretty knackered after an awful train journey but a good time was had.

I stayed with a good friend right by Ealing Studios and proximity to any kind if film history will always get me unreasonably excited. I enjoyed a couple of quiet pints and scribbling in Ealing's Red Lion pub, also know as Stage 6 due to it being right across the road from Ealing Studios and was soon full of crew members finished for the day.

I went down to do a one day course in Script Reading and decided to spend a few extra days catching up with old friends. A fair amount of beer ensued but I can't stay in London too long. I'm a home-bod at heart and was ready to come home sooner rather than later. It also featured the first time I've had to ask for a refund at the cinema. Not the quality of the film as I had no way of telling, seeing as there was no picture for the first 10 minutes and when it was restored the sound was deafening. I'll need to try and see that film again up here. And the wonderful London air sparked an allergy I never knew I had. Sniff.

The Script Reading course was held by the Script Factory but I'll dedicate a blog entry to that later today.

Away for a few days and the grass is too long (but rain stops me from cutting it) while other things in the garden which should be growing have come on nicely. I'm so grown up and dull now. Well, certainly dull. Some of my London purchases, particularly from Forbidden Planet, don't demonstrate any sense of growing up; think Millennium Falcon and a Haynes Car Manual.

Elisabeth Sladen

2011-04-19T22:44:00.000+01:00

Elisabeth Sladen is gone and I am gutted.

Sad and terrible news just as the new series of Doctor Who is about to start and taken so soon after Nicholas Courtney.

She was one of those childhood characters I thought would just always be around. Arguably the most iconic and popular companion of the Doctor's in the show's history and definitely my favourite (a very early childhood crush as well). Her place in the programme and its onscreen mythology has lasted since she first appeared in it 37 years ago. There are not many actors who can claim that.

As kids, we ran with her, we screamed with her, investigated with her and we fought alongside her. RIP Sarah Jane Smith.

She's off gallivanting somewhere with Harry and the Brig. I may have to stick The Time Warrior or The Hand of Fear on now...

Self Flaggelation

2011-04-19T14:32:00.000+01:00

I ought to scold myself about working a bit more often. 3 pages done since that last blog post.

Aiming to get this draft finished by the end of the week. I reckon it's entirely do-able. Got some notes already for the subsequent revision and I know mostly where I'm going to pare things down. It'll be a relief and not much beats that feeling of holding those printed and bound pages.

Oops.

2011-04-19T12:26:00.002+01:00

Wow.

You know you're procrastinating when you can't even blog a wee bit, never mind get the writing task done.

I shall return.

Words on the Page Over Square Eyes.

2011-02-04T10:55:00.001Z

Sky Atlantic HD.

An awful lot of good TV to watch. But will I be able to?

I used to watch too much TV as a kid. Far too much TV. But then I discovered that watching movies in a cinema was much better than movies or TV in the living room, which is full of distractions. So, thankfully, it seems that the rest of the world has taken over this task for me. And I'm glad. But the temptation to just decompose in front of the box is still there. And now there is a new addition to the weight on the other side of the scales, threatening to draw me away from productivity.

The addictiveness and quality of US TV drama has exploded in the past decade or so but I found myself being particularly choosy about what I watched. Averaging out at about 25 episodes long, one season of a US drama can demand a hell of a lot of one's time and I heard about people having to make time for so many shows. Making time for TV seems an awful lot like letting it have authority over your spare time (My god, I sound like my parents). A counter to that might be that with the advent of DVR, we can watch it whenever we want. But even with it all recorded, there's still too much of the quality stuff to cram in. Consequently, I limited myself to one or two, particularly Battlestar Galactica (one of the best shows ever on US TV, in my humble opinion) and Entourage. I tried Lost, especially after it's stunning opener, but gave up into season 2. And as a result I'm glad I couldn't be arsed to surrender my time to something which turned out to be so unsatisfactory by the end. Or so I hear.

The thing about these shows is that they demand a hell of a lot of attention. They're great and often brilliantly written, but there's just so much of them. Some folks keep telling that I must see The Wire or The West Wing. Well, one day, hopefully.

But now, with this new channel, there's a new plethora of them foisted on us. I'm glad I can watch Entourage again (which I reckon is the equivalent of Sex and the City for men, only a hell of a lot less shallow than Carrie and her fucking shoes) but I'm still going to limit myself to one or two. I just can't justify giving so much of my life over to television, even if it's about following and learning from good writing. Boardwalk Empire was the first to be given over to the "record series" option, as well as Vince, E and Ari. Not sure what else, though.

And so the Sky+ box fills up and things get deleted without being seen to make way for more things I might not find the time to watch.

The danger of trying to be a screenwriter is that the balance between work and "research" can tip over. I've got loads of films still to watch on DVD and in the cinema but finding the time is a bugger. Words on the page over square eyes, I think.

Getting Out Of The Cave.

2011-02-02T12:10:00.001Z

Possibly my biggest nemeses as a writer - myself and my relative inability to network.

I say relative because it seems that I can do it sometimes. Others will say, and I agree 100%, that as a screenwriter, hell, as anyone working in the film industry, networking is a necessary evil. Some might love it, but the fact that I used the term "necessary evil" shows my reluctance to engage in it. But it's so important. I spend most of my time in front of this bleedin' keyboard and unless I get out there and get my work known then what's the point?

So I'm doing my bit in beginning to get out there more often. I attended the Write, Camera Action event at Glasgow's CAA last weekend and was petrified going out there as the previous one reduced me to being that odd guy at the bar who keeps looking around but not saying anything. Result? A wasted night and unknown opportunities. This time there were a couple of people I knew there this time which was great. I was able to bounce off the conversations with them and speak to new people I might never have spoken to otherwise. And so that should lead to a bit more confidence next time because networking has to be an ongoing process.

What was even more encouraging was the suggestion from that night's organiser that I might get some of my short films shown there at some point in the future. I need to remind myself, when shut away in front of the keyboard, that I don't just write 'em. I've made 'em as well. And intend to do that again.

I've got the Shooters in the Pub event this Monday next. It'll be my third one. The last one was fun and a couple of, let's say...animated conversations about certain genre films fired me up. A few new business cards and some new Facebook friends resulted.

Writers! Get out of that room and out there (this includes me).

New Regime

2011-01-10T12:16:00.000Z

I try not to be one to go for New Year resolutions. If you want to do something, you should do it. In fact I've only ever kept one New Year resolution - never to make a New Year resolution again. The thing about them is that there is the temptation to either drop them or to wait until the new year to make a change. Sod that. Life is in danger of passing you by if you do that. If I want to do it, I should just do it, regardless of cyclical convention.

And so a new regime is in place now. Getting up early and just getting on with it. No excuses about preferring to write in the evening. No more pub. Less Internet. Whenever there is time, there is time to write.

I've written five pages so far today and feel damn good about it.

I've also got my eye on obtaining a Canon EOS 7D DSLR camera. Not got the funds yet, but with what that baby is capable of in terms of HD video, there's very little excuse not to get on with it. I know it's not a RED but it still sounds more than viable.

Here We Go Again.

2011-01-09T23:06:00.000Z

I was going to post some photos from our holiday to Pisa & Florence last summer but realised that my wife took them and not me. It would have been cheeky, to be honest, as she's a superb photographer and I'll not take credit. Well, I might have taken one or two. Hey, we're into the New Year. I had to blog about something.

So, I'm not wanting to dwell on the last 12 months too much. I achieved very little in comparison to what I wanted to. Must try harder. Overhauling this blog is step one out of many, including getting a proper website up and running. Dreamweaver for Dummies is on my desk right now. Better open the bloody thing.

One thing from the last year that I definitely have to improve is my film watching. The evening job means writing more during the day and my cinema-going has decreased by about 80%. Not. Good. Enough. A few Blu-Rays at Christmas are battling for attention but I have to make more of an effort to see more films in any format.

The new banner above is a still from a short film I made some time ago, Baal and Ben.

Life Outside These Walls?

2010-12-17T09:45:00.000Z

Looking forward to catching up with some of my old screenwriting friends this evening for some pre-Christmas drinks.

Writing is a horribly solitary activity, as many others have said before me. I'm not necessarily the most outgoing person there is (some might call that a whopper of understatement but I can have moments of irritatingly loud behaviour) but working alone, with almost no feedback, makes it seem like I'm floundering in the dark and wasting my time. Talking face to face with other sufferers of this affliction know as "the writer" reminds you that you're not alone and there just might be a point to what you're doing.

And talking movies with other self-confessed film geeks is just about my favourite type of conversation.

Snow Day Means Movies

2010-12-08T11:42:00.000Z

Being pretty much snowed in and therefore having more time on my hands, that old chestnut called "discipline" rears its head and I realise how little I apply the practice. As much as I prefer to write in the evening, I need to do it when any time is available. So instead I sat and watched three films in a row on TV yesterday. But the positive is that I was consciously aware of analysing them as I watched them. Not just whether I liked the film or not, but applied screenwriting techniques to what I was seeing. It got tougher as the day went on, though, as the films seemed to almost descend in quality as I watched them.

At least movie posters have moved on from the 80's Photoshop style. Yes?

The Pick Up Artist (1987, James Toback) was mostly enjoyable. It started well - from the word go we are int he protagonist's world and scenes serve on more than one level, which is something I'm trying to get right myself. In the first 10 minutes of a film we need to know as much as we can about the person whose eyes we are are seeing this new world through and Robert Downey Jr's Jack Jericho (awful name which sounds like it should be a villain in a Tango & Cash sequel) is a surprisingly likeable character, even though he could so easily be an asshole due to his overt attempts to womanize. But what we also see are the other aspects of his life; he lives with and looks after his grandmother and he is a good teacher and very popular with his kids (nice little cameo from Robert Towne as his Principal).

But I felt it fell to pieces towards the end. There are too many scenes of him chasing Molly Ringwald (although my 80's self would have done the same...) while the stakes are rising, as though the Toback is forgetting about why the characters are there in the first place (gambling debt's owed to Harvey Keitel's mobster pimp). Downey Jr keeps chasing the girl while folks could are in danger of getting whacked.

Next up was Sea Wife (1957). Again, it started out not bad but descended into silliness and repetition, especially Richard Burton's constant cries of, "I love you, Sea Wife". Joan Collin's keeping the fact she was a nun secret from Burton made very little sense and since that was a major driving force for much of the conflict between her and Burton, it made me far less patient with the film than I could have been. "Get on with it!" is the internal cry I heard in my head the most. Basil Sydney's racist Bulldog was pretty flat and predictably villainous (but without much obvious moustache twirling) and Cy Grant's Number Four tried to fill in a few gaps, privy to Collins' secret and siding with the audience in our frustration at her decision. I'm not sure how brave the film was in its depiction of racism at the time of production but at least it tried.

But once the I reached the end of the film the whole endeavour seemed rather pointless. I wasn't sure what the film was really about and neither did the filmmakers, I suspect. Folks stuck in a life raft at sea has obviously been done before (it would be remiss not to mention Hitchcock's Life Boat) and while it might have been tempting to imitate Hitchcock's rising tension between his characters, there was very little suspense to be had here, with very little effort put into the tensions between our trapped four in this case. It could have been a lot more believeable given the qualities given to each character without having to go the same route as Hitchcock.

I ended on Party Girl (1958) which, it turns out, is the first Nicholas Ray film I've seen end to end. While it looked lovely (even if FilmFour did seem to cut the CinemaScope aspect ratio, even on a widescreen TV. Give us the full frame, you numpties!) the story was so hum drum and "seen it all before" I had trouble giving a toss. Set in the 1930's prohibition era but obviously filmed in the 50's (the women's hairdo's seemed pretty much of the time), Robert Taylor's mob lawyer (but with a heart, you understand) falls for dancing girl Cyd Charisse while trying to get away from crime boss Lee J. Cobb (masticating his scenes with all the manners of Henry VIII). A rogue young punk wiseguy causes all sorts of problems when he conveniently appears (almost out of nowhere) in the middle of the film and Taylor has to choose between helping Cobb again or dealing with Cyd's lovely features being spoiled by a bottle of acid. All the stuff of by the numbers melodrama but trying to be a Noir (and a damn colourful noir at that). In fact this is the only "noir" I can think of where the action seems to stop for not one but two dance numbers, allowing Ms Charisse to show off the reason why she was famous in the first place. It reminded me of a Marx Brothers film where everything stopped for a big stage number or where the hero serenaded his girl.

By the end either Taylor & Charisse will cop it or Cobb will but Taylor is so stiff and uncomfortable in defending these thugs we know which way it'll go (another example of crime never being allowed to be seen to pay off by the Hollywood moral standard bearers). And the climax is heralded by an explosion of machine gunfire that Cagney or Muni would have been proud of, but instead of falling to the hail of lead, Cobb somehow manages to pour the acid on his own face - seriously, he stands by a pillar and raises the bottle over his face, almost deliberately, as though seized by a sudden desire for suicide and then tumbles out of the window.

Taylor and Charisse live happily ever after and I wonder how come it took me almost 3 hours to watch the 100 minute film.

But, a rule of mine is to take as much as I can from a film positively, no matter the quality (but there are a few exceptions...) so yesterday was by no means a waste of time.

White Shit

2010-12-06T17:13:00.000Z

It's everywhere. Scotland is snowed in. I'd say the UK but some places only have a light dusting. I lost almost an entire week's worth of wages last week due to the weather (at my temp evening job) and am now going to miss the whole of this week as well. It's Christmas in less than 3 weeks. Fun.

I should add, however, that I utterly hate my evening job which doesn't pay very much at all and eats into time due to the distance and useless public transport involved. So, the positive has to be (and I force myself to do this instead of wallowing) that I have more time to write in the evenings, which is when I can be arsed the most.

At least our dogs love it. It's almost 2 and a half feet deep in the park and it's fun to see them almost swimming in the snow.

I did have a dream, last night, that it rained overnight and all the snow was gone. I woke up, looked outside and one word popped into my head:

Bugger.

Skip to the End

2010-12-06T10:16:00.000Z

Act 2. Still posing me problems. But I know what happens in act 3. I know where and how the hero winds up in act 3 so I'm remembering a little advice a few screenwriting teachers and gurus have offered before and that's to start writing backwards, from the points I know about. Odd, I know, but it makes sense.

The destination is all ready and I know exactly how things end. It's just getting him to the points where he will have to act on his previous experience and where everything is a consequence of what has come before. These are the themes and ideas resolved. It's like writing an essay when you are asked to explain an idea or theory and have to read up and learn about how these things occur.

The big fear is that act 2 will be boring. I need to create situations where the hero is tested further while not testing the audience's patience. I need to keep an old phrase in mind through all of it: What will happen next?

So everything in the second act will have to play a part in creating the climax while still maintaining excitement and keep steadily building the odds.

That Old Act 2 Thing

2010-12-02T11:21:00.003Z

Completely re-writing act 2. What a nightmare. But you know what I'd almost forgotten? I wasn't making things hard enough for my protagonist.

He's in a situation where he thinks he's in control. Due to his inexperience and surrounding forces, he's not. Well, not as much as he thinks he is. Conflicting ideas and people are gathering around him in such a way as to make his quest damn near impossible. And these are the elements which spark further change in him. Qualities he already possesses deep down, unbeknownst to him, will come to the surface and overtake his outward appearance. His petulance and impetuousness, which he regards as positive in the first half of the story, will be smashed by the very characters he is trying to impress and/or help. Good thing too as their own behaviour will prove to be their undoing as they make the protagonist stronger by underestimating the hero and bringing his better qualities to the surface.

So I need to make it harder for him. Disappointment, realisation of hard facts and eventually an extraordinary calamity have to make him the man he will be. He wants to be a man; he just doesn't realise what it takes to really become one in the world he lives in.

But there is always a cost, or should be in some way, I feel. Possibly losing some kind of attachment, be it a friend, lover or object. I think a protagonist, in this traditional sense at least, should be able to find some kind of balance at the end of a story, finding their way by shedding certain elements of their life, voluntarily or not. Luke Skywalker might rescue Princess Leia, blow up the Death Star and become a hero of the Rebel Alliance but he still loses his family (Owen and Beru), best friend (Biggs) and mentor (Obi Wan) to the enemy.

Loss of innocence is a good one, I think, especially in this instance. What I'm writing isn't just a historical epic or period adventure or a love story. While it's all three of the above, at it's heart it's a coming of age tale, all centred around a boy who is finding the world is not what he was taught it really was and that not everyone is who they claim to be. It's got to be seen through the eyes of one person so the audience can learn about the complicated world as the hero does, experience those changes and emotions as he does, without getting bogged down in the horrid exposition that plagued the previous draft.

I know what the protagonist has to lose to find his way in this story. It's getting to those parts which is the task at hand. But how much of a shit can I be to my character?

Taking this on board, it's back to act 2 and hopefully something resembling a finished draft.

Kersh

2010-12-02T11:12:00.000Z

George Lucas created Star Wars. You perfected it.

Thank you, Mr Kershner. And sleep well.

Back Again

2010-10-28T09:41:00.000+01:00

My god, I'd almost forgotten.

Almost.

Well, yes, I've been severely slack with the blog in the past few months. A few interesting things have occurred. I mended a friendship. Did a very short bit of stand up during the Festival (yes, they laughed with me not at me) but had to down a pint to do it on a friend's prompting.

The Howard Hawks thing has continued but recently fell to the wayside. I have seen a few more of his films and will blog about them them soon.

So I'm going to do the blog more often, As other folks say, even writing a blog on a regular basis helps if you're a writer. I haven't felt like one lately. A bit of a fraud, yes. But I need to remind myself that I am.

Hawks Blog - "Whaddaya mean ya think I'm funny?"

2010-06-28T11:36:00.011+01:00

The title line of this blog was not uttered by Joe Pesci, as might be obvious to some (well, me until recently) but Paul Muni as incestuous and brutal gangster Tony Camonte in Hawk's Scarface, predating Pesci's terrifying Tommy DeVito but some 60 years or so.

Ages ago I set out to try and see as many of Howard Hawks films as I could and the reader could well be forgiven for thinking that I'd let the task fall to the wayside. But no, it's just taking a while to obtain the films, see them and have the time to blog about it.

So, since my last Hawks blog I've managed to squeeze in a few more. Unfortunately I missed an opportunity to see The Crowd Roars, Hawks racing drama with James Cagney and Joan Blondell, so that will have to wait for another time. But before that I did get a look at Hawks' Scarface.

One of the earliest and well regarded gangster films of the wave which hit in the 1930's, it was stopped at the gates for a few years after production owing to a disagreement between Hawks and producer Howard Hughes about which ending to use. Hawks' original ending, where Muni's Tony Camonte goes out in a hail of bullets after killing his sister, was re-instated after Hughes' alternative involved Camonte giving himself up to police, going before the judge and being hanged, all without a glance at his face as none of the shooting involved Muni. The alternative ending is available on the DVD and is just rotten but does provide an little insight to the fear some filmmakers might have felt at the time about the violence they were portraying; no one could go out with a bang and justice had to be seen to be dealt out by society.

With that in mind, the end of William Wellman's The Public Enemy, where James Cagney's character of Tom Power's bound corpse (it seems wrapped up like a mummy) looms dramatically into frame as his brother opens the door, is far better in my mind, a pretty startling end that didn't give in to the moral authorities demands that they be seen to be dealing with the problem. Death is death in these matters and the unseen but well expected effect Cagney's character's death would have on his mother has far more impact than the weight of the law ending his life.

But then again, I'm biased as I'm a Cagney fan and love The Public Enemy. The theme of the film, I'm Forever Blowing Bubbles, was a song my grandfather used to sing to me as a very small child (he died when I was 3) and hearing the version used in the film gives it a brilliantly horrid but touching edge. The enduring love of a mother for a son she has brought up but who has become something evil. Nice and tragic balance.

Muni, on the other hand, is effectively greedy and brutal by turns but seems to be overdoing it a lot of the time as well. His accent makes the Italian Chef from The Simpsons look like the antithesis of the stereotype, wandering into the comedic at times. But one of the things I like about Scarface is its balance, or possible lack thereof, between the brutality of Camonte's activities and the absurdly comedic. His secretary, Angelo, is a comic relief character bordering on the ridiculous at times, providing a levity in the proceedings I can't imagine the moral authorities tolerating much at all. But things like this can emphasise the sudden switches to violence, giving Camonte a sense of unpredictability that, say, Cagney's Tom Powers might not have possessed.

"Hey, Moe, why you no speaka witha your old accent a-no more?"

Boris Karloff, refreshingly not playing a monster, gets a wonderful demise in a bowling alley in another of Camonte's almost gleeful sprees.

Visually, Hawks has fun. The opening scene is an extended tracking shot, moving into a night club as Camonte, unseen by us, starts the killing which will elevate him to the top. The whole opening five minutes or so done in one take, moving into buildings and through walls, witnessing the killing and then moving back out again. The X which appears above the doomed is also a nice if slightly overplayed little device (the moment where we see it above George Raft's head is a cracker), but I suppose, given the time the film was made, this was brand new stuff, along with the brilliant idea of having a machine gun seem to shoot the pages off a calender, forcefully showing the passage of time as Camonte continues his reign of terror.

It's all pre-Code stuff, pretty damn violent for its time and the more than hinted at incestuous feelings Camonte possesses for his sister are quite surprising too, leading to an ending that is derived less from a sense of moral outrage but more from human flaws and desires. Camonte's end is entirely his own doing.

Metal Thrashing Mad!

2010-06-23T22:30:00.007+01:00

I usually prefer to blog about film related stuff but I have to mention last night's experience in a cinema. And it was in no way connected to the movies.

The Sonisphere Rock Festival, presently doing the rounds in Europe and soon to hit UK shores, has just included the best line up a stoopid metalhead such as myself would remove any limb of preference to get a swatch at - The Big Four of Thrash Metal, namely Metallica, Megadeth, Slayer and Anthrax all on the same bill.

Awesome doesn't quite cover this one.

Reducing much of the awesomeness of this is the fact that this line up seems to be exclusive to Europe and will not be hitting the UK next month. In fact, they're not even doing it in the US.

Rebuilding a fair bit of the awesomeness was the forward thinking of the organisers to broadcast the gig live (well, almost live. No 20 minute gaps between sets) in cinemas all around the world. So I went with my good mate Chris, a fellow veteran of the Edinburgh Metal scene, circa late 80's/early 90's. Oh, how me miss Madisons and The Mission. And damn, did we have a good time? Hell yeah. Someone had a decibel meter on an iPhone. 98dBs. Oh yes. In a cinema. Full of metal heads (with a good age range from teens to 40's by the look of it.).

Anthrax came on first and were just amazing, not losing an iota of their energy after all this time. Another major plus was that Joey Belladonna, lead singer through what many believe to be Anthrax's best years and albums, had recently rejoined. I think this was his first gig with them and he just kicked ass in a fucking superb way. Even during the "Wardance" bit from Indians, he rushed out onto the stage with a native American head-dress on, as though no time had passed since Among the Living had come out. They just look like they have so much fun and I want to see them live more than ever now.

Megadeth. I like the music but they're a bit dull onstage. At least Dave Ellefson was present, so he'd obviously patched things up with the mercurial Dave Mustaine. They sounded fucking bang on but, as I say, not a huge amount to see live.

Slayer. The band I'm least acquainted with but still know their most famous songs. Absolutely brutal. Tom Araya provided all the smiles while Jeff Hanneman and Kerry King did their thing looking as mean as possible. Kerry King's solos were like being confronted by a blast furnace and the cinema audience went absolutely ape-shit when Reign in Blood started.

Metallica. What else is there to say about this band? Amazing live and a blistering show. Full on pyros during the opening bars of One. They knew how to entertain the audience and every song bar one was a classic from their first five albums, the exception being Cyanide from Death Magnetic, which I reckon is a return to form for them (let's not mention Load or Reload).

A decent couple of tribute pieces to the late Ronnie James Dio as well, who was due to perform before he took the ultimate Holy Dive recently. Loads of Dio metal hand signs went up in the air.

And then James Hetfield did what I prayed would happen. Brought the other bands out on stage, with the exception of Slayer's Hanneman and King (enough with the feuds, guys) and Metallica, Anthrax, Megadeth and half of Slayer proceeded to jump into Am I Evil.

I've never heard people make that kind of noise in a cinema before. Quite a sight to see metallers head banging and jumping for joy in perfect silhouette against the screen.

Just about all of the playlists read like greatest hits compliations buyt that's why we were there. A simply fucking awesome night, save for the fact I was sober and driving. Actually, me, beer, metal. That would likely have been a messy affair, possibly reducing today as a write-off.

And now, back our (ir)regularly scheduled witterings...

"Will You Join Me On The Veranda?"

2010-06-22T12:00:00.006+01:00

Wow. Been a while. I need to get this blog thing regular again.

This year's Edinburgh International Film Festival is in full swing and as usual, I'm can't get to see much, if anything. A busy weekend just past, however, ended with with the premiere of Donkeys at the EIFF, which I am glad I managed to get to. It was directed by the brilliant Morag Mackinnon and written by the equally brilliant Colin McLaren, two good friends with whom I've shared some wonderful alcohol induced and occasionally shameful times. All good.

So, while I'm friends with the filmmakers, I'll try and be as objective as possible.

Donkeys has been a while in the making but it was worth the wait. Telling the story of Albert (James Cosmo), a man who has reached that time in his life when he sees that the end may actually be in sight and sets about trying to reconcile with his estranged daughter (Kate Dickie), involving his old mate Brian (Brian Pettifer) in certain questionable ways. The film treads a fine line between tragedy and the blackest, sharpest comedy and is a brilliant example of how we deal with that eventuality in life that does not involve taxes. The tone shifts beautifully from bleak and sad to sidesplitting almost guilty comedy, an achievement hardly any films seem to either attempt or pull off these days and the entire proceedings are drenched in just the right kind of no-bullshit pathos I've seen in their work in the past and it's about damn time Colin and Morag got their chance at a feature.

It also features, to paraphrase festival director Hannah McGill, the funniest assisted suicide scene you'll ever see, but which is also handled beautifully. As well as laughter, there are a few tears. And a brilliant use of Demis Roussos' Una Paloma Blanca. A great film about that one certainty of life and the other bits that come along with what makes us human.

It's hilarious and touching stuff. I can't wait to see what they get to do next.

I'm going to see if I can get to a couple of things at Best of the Fest this Sunday, particularly Monsters, a film I've been wanting to see for some time, but circumstances always seem to stand between men and the EIFF. That and the fact it's so damn expensive these days if you want one of the event passes.

But tonight is all about seeing metal's Big Four on the big screen as Metallica, Anthrax, Slayer and Megadeth all perform at Sonisphere in Bulgaria tonight and the whole damn thing is being shown live. Bring it.

Still Here

2010-04-26T10:16:00.004+01:00

Well, a while since my last post. A necessary but horrible part time job in the evenings (imagine hammering the same nail for four hours without a break...) combined with a mammoth case of writer's block (now evaporating), a slightly scary reliance on booze (it's doesn't work when trying to be truly creative) along with a general malaise have conspired to keep me away from the blog and writing in general.

Something to recommend to fellow writers is an hour long video featuring Robert McKee at The Unknown Screenwriter, a site for screenwriters I cannot recommend highly enough.

Some people find McKee hard to deal with, some worship at his grumpy altar and some, like me, try and find what's best amongst his writings. It might not change your world view but I think it's worth a look even if to just help recharge some creative batteries.

Now Avatar is released on DVD today. Dare I? In fact, I think I've a bit to say about it's different elements. Watch for a post on it soon.

Neil One Year On.

2010-03-01T11:57:00.004Z

I'm still due my Scarface write-up/thoughts (remember, no in depth analysis!) and more Hawks stuff but real life gets in the way sometimes.

It's been a funny week. Within the space of one day, a friend lost his young brother in law, we marked a year since the passing of Neil and my friends Dan and Elaine Starborg became proud parents.

Last week, we remembered the first anniversary of the death of my friend, Neil Platt. His wife, Louise, had decided we should spread one third of his ashes, according to his will, up on Arthur's Seat which, for the uninitiated, is a large extinct volcano sitting smack bang in the middle of Edinburgh. And so we all trudged up the hill, in the piddling rain and freezing cold, each taking a sip of his favourite tipple, Guinness, and then each took a turn at sprinkling the ashes. There were some tears to begin with but, as he would have had it, these were vastly outweighed by alcohol and laughter. A short pub crawl in some of Neil's old student haunts in Edinburgh brought back good memories and we found some amusing alternative uses to the red boas the Jagermeister girls were handing out in Maggie Dickson's; red being the colour of blood, in the hands of fans of stupidly violent films. Give us a camera and we'll make the best fools of ourselves.

It's affirming to know there is such a strong groups of friends around. Even after all this time, we've not changed all that much. Some of us (including myself) are still as self-indulgently infantile as ever and I thank the Powers That Be for that.

Good times inspired by a good friend.

But the story doesn't end after a year. Louise has updated their blog, The Plattitude, with her thoughts and feelings about loosing Neil to Motor Neurone Disease one year on in a letter to Neil she has decided to share with everyone. It's touching, sobering stuff and brings home just how cruel, unremitting and painful in many ways MND is.

I still can't believe he's gone.

Anyone reading this blog, please try and continue to help raise awareness of MND.

The Motor Neurone Disease Association

Drop It Like It's Hawt..

2010-02-19T09:57:00.004Z

Every now and then, it's amazing how clear things can become when you're writing.

Every now and then.

For ages, I struggle with a kind of grey muddy vision of things and when I decide to drop one story element that has been serving as a back story to the main character (after resisting it for a long time) things become much more simple (relatively, that is) and a new and more streamlined back story seems to propel the character into the story far more effectively.

Now I feel I can get on with the business of actually telling a ghost story, of dreaming up scary moments and ideas that are directly related to the character and his situation at the beginning of the story.

One little decision makes the morning worthwhile.

Stripping it Back

2010-02-15T20:33:00.006Z

Away from my Hawks Hunt, I'm still trying to get to grips with a story I've been faffing* with for 10 years, now no longer faffing but molding it into a screenplay.

But even after 10 years, I'm kind of faffing, not by fiddling or wasting time (or am I?) but by trying to get ahead of myself. Consequently, this has resulted in some false starts and reinforces in me the need to get everything clear from the beginning. By refusing to look at things from the ground up, my story does move forward but then stops and finds itself with nowhere to go, specifically concerning the ending.

So, I'm stripping it back down to its roots and separating all of the elements so I know exactly what their place is in the grand scheme of things. And, hey presto, things start to become clear again. Avenues I'd forgotten about reappear and more story possibilities are, well, possible.

And most importantly, by reminding me that I can back out of a blind alley by carefully reversing, it makes me get excited about it all over again.

Lesson learned - don't get ahead of myself and keep it clear.

Coming soon, my thought on Hawks' Scarface. And then I'll be watching The Crowd Roars.

Hawks and Cagney. Love it.

*I'm surprised to discover "faffing" is recognised by the Google spellchecker.

Kids in Canvas Coffins...

2010-02-10T20:24:00.008Z

My Hawks Hunt continues with The Dawn Patrol.

I did not expect to like this film as much as I did. In fact there were moments I simply loved. Hawks' first Talkie tells the story of two friends in the First World War as they fly out on bombing sorties in bi-planes over war torn France. The Hawksian theme of brothers in arms and male friendship is apparent from the get go. Richard Barthelmess and Douglas Fairbanks Jr play Courtney and Scotto with what appears to be real warmth. The sense of camaraderie is convincing amongst the men as they face death in the sky with each other, none of them knowing if they'll ever return each time they take off. The men drink (a lot), laugh and sing songs in their makeshift little bar at the airfield, waiting for the next batch of orders to be delivered by Neil Hamilton's Major Brand.

Brand and Courtney are points of antagonism for each other; Brand is a ball of anxiety, receiving orders, under protest, from the higher ups that will send young and inexperienced pilots out to their likely doom. And he has to deliver these orders personally to the squadron, led by Courtney, who does not realise Brand's own conflict over it all and subsequently a huge rift exists between the two men. Mention is made of them falling out over a girl in the past, but this seems unnecessary and is rarely if ever mentioned again. All we need to know is that Courtney thinks Brand is sending these kids out to die himself and hates him for it. Until the tables are turned and Courtney finds himself on the other side of the desk when Brand is promoted. Which in turn leads to a rift between Courtney and Scotto. Circles and circles...

One of the main things that struck me about this was the performances. And subsequent reading up about the film has filled me in. There is a natural feeling to the three main performances. I've only seen Richard Barthelmess once before in Michael Curtiz's The Cabin in the Cotton and I did not like him in that at all; let's be honest, it's really Bette Davis' film. And so when he appeared in The Dawn Patrol, I sank a little. But he's great in it. I've since learned that Hawks actually had a little trouble with the studio over the performances not being...well, loud and stagey enough. It seems that the world was used to and expected over-acting and non-natural sounding dialogue and Hawks received studio notes suggesting that no one would believe the film or its performances. They were dead wrong and the film received an Academy Award for best story.

Douglas Fairbanks Jr has come in for a little stick about his performance but I liked him. He lent the proceedings an air of needed joviality at times, with a hairdo that preceded Jedward by some 80 odd years. I've not seen colour pictures of Fairbanks from the period, but something in me says he had red hair during this time. Just an odd and pointless observation from me.

I;d only ever known Neil Hamilton from somewhere else and it took me some time and brow-furrowing before I realised he played Commissioner Gordon to Adam West's Batman in the 1960's. I don't know if he was trying, but there seemed to be a slightly Scottish lilt to his voice. The other accents in the film vary, with no one truly trying to do any sort of British accent except for the actual Brits onscreen. But the dialogue did seem geared toward that, without going over the score with any "Tally ho's"! One performance that did stick out was William Janney as Scotto's doomed younger brother. He was simply rubbish. The gee whizz factor emanated from him like nausea inducing sun rays.

Obviously, the major selling point of a film like this is the aircraft action. And in fact it took a while for that to really kick off onscreen, and with good cause. Even though it's clear Courtney is the main character, when the planes take off, we stay with Brand, anxiously downing drinks with his head in his hands, waiting for the sounds of the returning planes, counting them in. These were effective moments, boiling the weight and responsibility on Brand down to pretty intimate moments of a man counting the deaths he feels responsible for. And when Courtney takes over, we already know what he's in for.

Great shots of the rickety planes taking off, landing and crashing lend it all a sense of authenticity that is only broken by the fact that the airfield seems to be amongst the scrub of the Californian desert and not Northern France. I love the back projection shot, mixed in with the footage of the aircraft. I don't know, I just like back projection. Even James Cameron got away with it in Aliens. A beaut tracking shot of the planes as they prepare to take off lingers in the mind, Hawks love of aircraft very evident. And the fragility of these planes also comes across as they bounce back to the ground, offering the men inside a brittle security. But Hawks does not concern himself with the politics of war, just the lives of the men who fight it. In that respect, it reminds me at least a little of The Hurt Locker.

All in, a thrilling and compelling take of the realities of those who dare and do. Loved it.

Geek Disclaimer

2010-02-09T08:50:00.005Z

I watched Hawks' The Dawn Patrol last night. I'll do a little write up about it later today. But before I do, I want to make something perfectly clear.

I am not a critic.

Sure, you say. Everybody's a critic.

Well, I'm not a film critic. So don't take anything written here to be an attempt at proper analysis. I was rotten at that kind of thing at film school (I find over-analysis to be...passion killing). I'm just a geek who loves movies in general and this is about improving and educating myself. Getting it down in written form on the blog will likely make it clearer in my head, which is usually about as clear and navigable as a sticky swamp in the middle of the darkest night whilst hidden under a black tarpaulin and blindfolded by Black Meg, the sight stealer.

Yes, I like Blackadder.

So, my thoughts on Hawk's first talkie later today. Before that, I have a script to be writing.

Remaining Silent Hawks

2010-02-03T22:43:00.002Z

Well, my search for the rest of Howard Hawks silent films has drawn a blank. I can't even find clips of them. Some of them are available somehow.

Again, bugger.

There are still plenty of articles and reviews about some of them around so at least I can make some progress. However, there's loads still to see.

Up next, The Dawn Patrol.

Fig Leaves

2010-02-03T21:50:00.006Z

I wasn't able to get a hold of Howard hawks' first film, The Road to Glory (1926), as it seems it doesn't actually exist anymore.

Bugger.

So, next on the list is Fig Leaves, produced in the same year as Hawks' debut. Unfortunately, and as can be the case with silent films, I've only been able to see about the first 30 minutes of what looked to be an amusing battle of the sexes comedy. And I'd better get The Flintstones references out of the way before I carry on; just about every article I've read in the film so far makes mention of the obvious connection. The film is book-ended with scenes set millions of years ago featuring Adam (George O'Brien) and Eve (Olive Borden) dressed, naturally enough, as cavemen. But no primitive fires and huddling in wet caves for this pair - life is lived in much the same way as it is during the film's contemporary scenes. Nice little gags involving coconut-dropping alarm clocks run by sand instead of clockwork and buses pulled by dinosaurs (large scale mechanicals by the look of it, or with performers inside). Yes, yes, yes, so far so Flintstone. I wonder what Hawks' reaction to Hanna and Barbera's cartoon was. Quiet amusement, I imagine.

The prehistoric scenes frame a modern day story (1920's) about a very similar couple, also named Adam and Eve and played by the two leads mentioned above. Eve wants to go out and work, but he's having none of it. Arguments ensue and slithery, serpent-like characters neighbour Alice and fashion designer Andre appear on the scene, each plotting to steal Eve and Adam respectively for themselves. Alice's devious nature is already suggested by her original appearance as the serpent in prehistoric Eve's life but, instead of tempting her, they gossip.

That's about as far as I was able to get given the limited scenes available to me. Themes about the predictability of the attitudes of the sexes to each other and their particular wants and desires are presented in ways very much of their time but Hawks' general representation of women throughout his career is established early on here, an example being Adam insisting on a seat on the dino-bus from a young lady (what a gent!) and her subsequent "We'll get our rights one day" line. If anything, the men do appear dafter, including the Troughtonesque Heine Conklin as Adam's assistant, who provides some laughs in a scene where he tries to convince Adam to get firm with his woman and squirms away when Eve shows up.

But the most Hawksian element, even in a silent, is the quick fire dialogue. We don't always hear what they saying but we know exactly what it is, regardless of the title cards. And Hawks also has some fun with his cards, giving a drunkenly childish Adam a great visual moment by playing around with the font. I actually laughed out loud at one moment where Adam, in response to Eve mentioning a fig leaf sale, replies, "Somehow I can't get hysterical over that".

A funny little film which I like to see the rest of sometime.

Doing Hawks

2010-02-02T13:11:00.004Z

No, it's not an obscene riff on raptors.

I've decided to learn more about Howard Hawks, my interest having recently been aroused by a book of interviews with him (his mildly amused reaction to the passion of Nouvelle Vague interrogators Truffaut et all is interesting). He's someone I've know about since a kid, hearing my childhood film heroes talking about his influence on them and, having already seen a couple of his films in the past, I'm now on a mission to see and learn as much about him as I can.

Oddly enough, I'm not a fan of his later westerns (all the same film, it would appear) but I hope to see them more in context with the rest of his work; Rio Lobo and Bringing Up Baby are a million miles apart to me. Maybe it's Hawks' versatility that is the most interesting thing of all.

From what I've already gleaned, some of his earliest films, particularly the silents, may be tricky buggers to track down and I want to do this as chronologically as possible. Any help or info would be lovely.

There are some fragments of his first film, Road to Glory, somewhere. Here we go...

So, about 2009...

2009-12-31T23:23:00.004Z

In the past twelve months...

I saw Paris with my wife.
I lost a friend.
My work went into the big bad world and I wasn't shooed out of the building.
I met Ray Harryhausen, one of my childhood heroes.
I broke my toe. Rage at lawnmowers does not pay.
Saw my first IMAX movie.
Saw Monty Python perform "I'm A Lumberjack" live onstage.
Made steps forward in my work.
Earned no money.
Saw Malta with my wife.
Missed my wife.
A lot.
Finally visited my sister in Cambridge.
Walked out of a film for the second time in my life.
Managed to get to one event at the Edinburgh Film Festival.
Lost any trace of respect I might have had for Michael Bay.
Saw more of my dad.
Got piddled with some of the Harry Potter Creature Shop guys.
Caught up with some old friends after too long.
Reaffirmed an old friendship after too long.
Saw Patrick Stewart corpse at McKellen in the background of Waiting for Godot.
Went to far less weddings than last year.
Realised I'll be at even more weddings next year.
Visited my old school before they knock it down and caught up with old friends from them days.
Welcomed two new additions to the extended family.
Remembered that I liked snow.
Realised how much I value friends.
Embarrassed myself in front of a friend when I saw Roger Corman walk by.
Embarrassed myself even more in front of a friend when Joe Dante walked by moments later.
Saw some amazing films.
Saw too little of some other friends who only live 40 odd miles away.
Visited Glencoe and discovered how stupid the National Trust in Scotland actually is.

There's probably more.

I don't make New Year's Resolutions. But I do intend to make next year a much better one. Plans are brewing.

Hope anyone reading this has a Happy New Year. I'm off to cuddle my wife and have a nip of whisky at the bells.

See you in 2010.

End of the Year Stuff

2009-12-30T18:30:00.004Z

I hope anyone still reading this blog has had a Happy Christmas and a pleasant few weeks, regardless of one's beliefs.

Been a while since I last posted. I spent a few days in London with my wife, so I got to see her for a whole week, which is normally unheard of due to present work circumstances. Saw Avatar, which I loved but I also seem to be very forgiving of the script, which was unoriginal and cliched, but it's a hell of a pulp sci-fi experience.

And so, to the end of the year. An awful time for a movie news junkie like myself as most of the movie world seems to be asleep right now. I actually hate the week after Christmas. I love Christmas but hate how everything seems to change after the big day. Every day between it and New Year seems to feel like a Sunday. Meh.

But Christmas was good - we actually got a proper White Christmas this year; about a foot of the stuff in places. Cue extreme madness in the dogs during their walks - they love that stuff. I've got a box set of David Lean films to work through now, all pre-Lawrence, and more Muppet Show goodness. Ahh. Shame about Doctor Who, though. I only hope part 2 makes up for it. David Tennant has been an amazingly popular Doctor and deserves to go out on a high.

It's been an interesting year with ups and downs. A very good friend (with whom I don't think I ever had a cross word throughout 14 years) died at the beginning of the year and it put a lot into focus. But, he'd kick my arse with a Yorkshire boot if I dwelt too much on it. I think my next post may be about the good things which have happened this year. It's more important to focus on the good than the bad.

The Christmas holidays have been great (and still are) but I'm now eager to get on with things again. I'm not really a big fan of New Year and I always want to just get the year started instead of pissing it away. Yes, times have changed. No more jumping about at the Tron, getting a beer shampoo for me. I have aims for the next year, including at least two spec feature scripts for the next few months and then serious attempts at getting more work and an agent. I have big plans for the coming year.

Back to it! I've a world to conquer.

Progress in "Exile"

2009-12-07T22:40:00.004Z

After that last sentence in my previous entry, it seems that the pub really might a tad more conducive to scribbling. Over a pleasant 3 pints, 6 pages of notes were hammered out and the emotional core of the story is being laid bare.

Not that I'll be working in the pub regularly (that necessitates money, of which I have absolutely none, and a liver to rival Keith Richards, however many he's gone through), but a little restraint and a measured pint can do wonders sometimes.

I'm now getting excited by the story and the characters. Properly excited, as in seeing this as a film now in my head as opposed to an idea. A couple of scenes took very good shape this evening. And all of this before I'm outlining. But, as with the booze, restraint with some of the ideas - this can still become a different animal.

Exile

2009-12-07T16:29:00.004Z

The title's not as dramatic as it sounds, but I have imposed a kind of exile on myself, web-wise. A story I've been working on for years has recently begun to truly take shape in a more coherent fashion than before and I don't want to lose it. I say "lose it" not as in "I'll go nuts" but I've got a wee spark going on now that I don't want to slip out of my notoriously sieve-shaped mind.

So, since last Thursday, no Facebook. Shock! (Ok, I had to log in once today to send a message of apology to a school friend I'd bumped into this morning, only to mistakenly call him by his brother's name. What a knob I am). So, the Facebook addiction is getting kicked into touch, as is my presence on a message board I've been frequenting for years. But it's all just short term so I can make myself get on with writing and also prove to myself that I don't need to be logging on to the online world to feel secure. Blog notwithstanding, of course. It has been a while since I posted. But none of the usual time-wasting nonsense for the next seven days.

This is the thing about writing. It's fucking lonely. So with one click, I'm in touch with my friends. And I must stress that the vast majority of them are people I personally know, not just from online personas and daft avatars.

Speaking of which, I'm also cutting myself of from anything to do with Avatar. It's a film I'm really looking forward to and I don't know a huge amount about it. I may know more than I think if Cameron has taken the "Dances with Wolves in Space" path in terms of story, but we'll see. So, no reviews or chatter until I see the film next week. I'll be in London for most of the week so I may have to shell out a bit more for it, but I will be seeing next week, for sure. Slowly but surely, things are getting Christmassy as well. Gawd, I love this time of year. It's unfortunate it has to be followed by dark, cold and wetter January. But that's the concept of following time through a calendar for you. Some mammals have got it right by sleeping it away.

Exile. It's amazing how the web can cause over-dramatics. Nonetheless, I've stuff to do.

So, it's head in the books time. Would it be wrong to do that in the pub? Hmmm...

Writers and The Blackness

2009-11-18T11:37:00.004Z

There is a great article over at TwelvePoint.com regarding depression and being a writer by Dominic Carver. If any writers visiting this blog have ever suffered from this particular brand of mind and personality rot (like myself) then I recommend reading his piece.

Registration may be required but TwelvePoint.com is an invaluable resource which I recommend any writer check out, so I think registration will be worth your while.

Edward Woodward

2009-11-16T22:26:00.006Z

It seems the easy thing to do would be to mention The Equalizer or The Wicker Man (which I intend to watch tonight).

But, before Jack Regan and George Carter, before Gene Hunt, before Bodie & Doyle, there was Callan.

And he'd have kicked their collective arses.

RIP Edward Woodward. A true gent by all accounts.

The Point of a Blog

2009-11-10T18:16:00.005Z

What is the point of a Blog?

They exist in different forms and genres. The most common seem to be personal blogs, functioning like personal diaries. In fact, I'd say in general they either function as diaries or as columns, as in newspaper and magazine editorials. And these can be divided into genres - writing blogs, film blogs, music blogs, cultural blogs, the list goes on.

The blogs I follow tend to be film related in the main. And these blogs always have some sort of personal aspect to them, in varying degrees. Whether it's Jeffrey Wells' opinion on the past year's films (where he includes aspects of his life) or advice given by peers and colleagues or just seeing how friends are doing beyond the limitations of Twitter (I've lost interest in Twitter now). This blog itself is an amalgam of a writing/film/personal blog. Little bits of my life I feel like sharing. Not foisting it upon people, of course. I hope it's not too boring but then again I'm not the most exciting person in the world.

I have had the odd rant in my blog - it's part of the way I deal with depression, which can really fuck me up on an epic scale at times. But I'm allowed. It's my blog. And people are entitled to rant on their own blogs as well. People are also entitled to make comments if they want, good or bad. It's a free world. And I can do the same in others' blogs. If I don't like what someone says, I'll deal with it in a hopefully adult way. Or ignore it.

One thing I won't do is get personal and slag that person off in a blog headline. There is no sarcastic font to make people see what you mean. You write it in a way that you intend. And if it's not the way you intend then you ought to correct yourself. This is a common occurrence on the web these days. The dispassionate nature of plain text. Words need context. If it's lost, flame wars break out over nothing. And it descends into the moronicism of an Aint It Cool News Talkback. But, if we're adult enough, we can back away and not slag people off from behind the safety of a keyboard. People seem to suddenly develop balls of steel on the web.

It's even worse when someone you thought was a friend does it to you.

So, fuck this. I'll keep blogging about stuff. Stuff I like. Stuff which affects me. And if people think it's boring, well fuck 'em. The point is to express one's self. Hopefully without sounding like a broken record.

As the good Mr David Bishop says, Onwards.

Meeting a Hero

2009-11-04T11:29:00.005Z

The Master Ray Harryhausen, co-author Tony Dalton and this fat fool of a blogger. I take a rotten picture.

The very first film I ever saw in a cinema was The Seventh Voyage of Sinbad (not Star Wars as some folks think). It was part of a double bill (playing alongside Chuck Jones' Bugs Bunny/Road Runner Movie) my dad took me to when I was about 6 years old. I'd been wanting to go to the cinema for a few years by that point, but my disappointment as not seeing Star Wars when I was 4 is the point of an older blog post.

So, my earliest memories of the movies are of a giant Cyclops, a dragon, a tiny princess, a poisoned river and Torin Thatcher fleeing and crying for help from the outset. And it was the monsters which had the biggest effect on me. I was hooked on the buggers. This from a kid who hid at the side of the TV when Doctor Who or Space 1999 came on. Not to take anything away from its director, Nathan Juran, but it was really all about the animation master and pioneer Ray Harryhausen for me. I knew who this guy was before I knew who the Maggie Thatcher was.

I got to know his style early on and was usually disappointed when a monster movie appeared on TV that did not have his name attached. In fact, a small rage would grow in me when it became clear that I was watching iguanas and baby crocodiles with plastic frills on (The Lost World and Journey to the Center of the Earth were particular offenders to me as a kid). If it wasn't Harryhausen, my interest would wane.

And I got the chance to tell the great man about my first cinema experience face to face recently when I met him at a book signing. It was over so quickly (bloody queues) but will remain in my mind for as long as my mind works. It was good to have a chance to thank the man and shake his hand. How often do we get to meet our heroes and thank them? There is the old saying that one should never meet one's heroes as they will disappoint but sometimes the meeting is so brief that the chance for disappointment doesn't get a look in. Maybe that's the way to do it. It was likely just another fan for him but it was a big moment for me.

After my quick gush about The Seventh Voyage of Sinbad, he and his co-author, Tony Dalton, also told me that they've found lost footage from Seventh Voyage and there's going to be a new book on the subject next year. Good to hear. And another heartening aspect of the event was that there were a few quite young kids there to meet him and who were into stop motion animation themselves. They knew who he was, despite so many folks my age wanting to write off the younger generation. And he seemed very pleased that they were helping to keep stop motion alive and kicking. Movies like Coraline and well known people like Nick Park and Tim Burton are a part of this also, but they all owe this man a debt. I wonder how likely it is that kids who love modern VFX can name any of the pioneers of that form. Denis Muren, maybe (Another name I knew very early on)?

Harryhausen's the first of my early childhood heroes I've met but I've seen another in action on the set; although, in hindsight, George Lucas has blotted his copy book in recent years. But not totally, mind you (that's a debate for another day). Meeting Terry Gilliam was cool when I was 18 but he was more of a late teens hero and he was great in person. Very generous considering how tired he clearly was.

But, I got the chance to meet one of the people partly responsible for forming my direction in life from a very early age. And to top it all off, his words to me were "Thanks." I left with a very big smile on my otherwise grim visage.

I think The Beast From 20,000 Fathoms is in order today. :)

London Weekend Squirrelvision

2009-10-28T19:56:00.005Z

I got back from a brilliant weekend in London a few days ago. Highlights include seeing Eric Idle's oratorio based on Life of Brian, called He's Not the Messiah and featuring the rest of the Pythons on stage (sans anglophobe Cleese), meeting Ray Harryhausen, one of my all time heroes, late nights with friends in good pubs and seeing my sister in Cambridge. All in the company of my lovely and quite brilliant wife.

I'll blog about these in a bit more detail soon but if anyone asks again who Ray Harryhausen is, I may lose it (Some people. Jeez!).

Hellman's "The Shooting"

2009-10-20T20:53:00.003+01:00

I said a few days ago I was going to blog about Monte Hellman's The Shooting, which I recently watched.

The semi-randomness of LoveFilm led me to this film. I've been wanting to introduce myself to the films of Monte Hellman for some time so I did the necessaries on LoveFilm and The Shooting came through the letterbox first.

I'd never heard the term Acid Western before I checked up on the film after watching it (in fact, the term wasn't coined until almost 30 years after the film was made). I was already impressed by the film but on discovering the term I re-evaluated the film in my head. It's an interesting idea, to turn the conventions of the Western around to make a counter-cultural statement without actually making the film seem to out of place within the genre (in my mind, at least).

I was aware I was watching a low budget film when watching, but this seemed beneficial onscreen. The whole thing has the feeling of a descent into hell. Almost dreamlike. The small cast and the way the landscape is shot help with this impression. The choice of location makes the characters feel more and more isolated from reality - it seems similar and yet utterly opposed to John Ford's West of Monument Valley. The heat and dryness are emphasised both narratively and visually. Warren Oates character of Gashade also becomes increasingly isolated throughout the film, as he is separated from his sidekick, the well meaning buffoon Coley, and then from his horse. The desert claims the horses, one by one, aided by Millie Perkins unnamed mystery woman as she insists on riding to death every horse she has. We don't know who she is or exactly why she wants what she wants; only that she is out for revenge and when the opportunity arises, her victim is Gashake's identical brother (it's never explicitly stated that they are twins).

This sudden ending, of course, is what really marks the film out from conventional Westerns of the time. The slow motion serves to emphasise the face both brothers share - how much of this is metaphorical? Is this just about Gashake? I'm unsure but it certainly made me question just about all that had come before. The rising hostility of the woman towards Gashake and Coley increases as they become more distant from their mine. She becomes more unpleasant, demanding and obstinate, where in the beginning she hired Gashake due to his past as a bounty hunter (something he seems keen to leave in the past). And when Jack Nicholson finally appears after trailing them for some time, they both assume the role of pure antagonists against Gashake, eager to separate him from Coley, his guns and his horse, although Nicholson loses his own horse, levelling the ground somewhat.

Warren Oates is just superb as Gashake. He knows all is not what it seems but goes along for the money. Or has he? A sense of guilt or resignation hangs around him and Oates plays it all with a genuine stoicism. I wasn't keen on Perkins at all, though. All shouty and mono-expression, she seemed more at home in a Bresson film. Nicholson was a slick and genuinely menacing bully.

One moment that lingers is when Gashake and Coley (Will Hutchins) hear the gunshot signalling the arrival of The Woman. Coley gets such a fright he runs as fast as he can to a high point, carrying an open bag of flour, spilling as he runs. Then panicking child-like man covered in a cloud of white powder.

One unresolved element involves two men, shown only by their boots, who arrive at the mine camp after the group has left, as though they are also after someone.

This is no ordinary Western and I'm eager to find some more in a similar vein. I've been tipped off about Jan Kounen's Renegade (an awesome cast list!), but there's more Hellman to get through first.

The Blue Screen of...what?

2009-10-20T20:15:00.002+01:00

Is it the Blue Screen of "Death" or is it "Doom"?

This stems from a comment I made on Facebook about trying to fix my PC. I've been working from my laptop for some time now but I can't edit on this wee thing so if I want to get making films again, I need to get the big bugger working again. My comment about "The Blue Screen of Doom/Death" was met with typical geek derision from my friend Tim.

Doom or Death, either way, I want it fixed. Could be a RAM problem. I've already had to replace the HD so I won't be purchasing a PC from that particular establishment again.

But geek speak can be a difficult thing. Get it right, some non-geek friends will raise an eyebrow and give you a ribbing for being so geeky. Get it wrong, the geeks will descend upon you, point, stare, roll their eyes and disavow any knowledge of your geekiness and expel you from Geekdom.

All through emoticons, of course.

OK, here's proof of my geek credentials (not counting the huge Star Wars collection my wife lets me keep in the house. Lucky man) - during pre-production, Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom was once known as Indiana Jones and the Temple of Death. There we are - proof of my lack of social ability and obsessive tendencies combined with the very two words I that started this blog entry in the first place.

Either way, I want this fixed. Getting an itch to make a couple of shorts.

Mindless

2009-10-19T19:29:00.003+01:00

I've just heard that veritable bottomless well of film knowledge and chief Shadowplayer David Cairns has been assaulted by some mindless little shits. I hear he's OK, but what a shitty thing to happen. Wishing my best to him and hope they catch the little fuckers. If there's something I hate with every fibre of my being, it's a bully.

I used to live in Leith, near to David, and heard and saw some unpleasant doings (more often heard in the middle of the night) and know how ropey Leith can be. It's still a great place but is also inhabited by the weird and sometimes downright bastardish lower forms of Scottish life. Some friends and I were once witness to some girls screaming obscenities at a couple of teenage lads as we went to the shops after a late beer. We emerged from the shop to see two of them across the road in full view of Leith Walk in a bus shelter, definitely no longer shouting at each other. She certainly couldn't shout with her mouth full, anyway.

Nice. Sunshine on Leith? I don't fucking think so.

There are things I love and miss about Leith. And then I'm reminded all too often about the things I hated about the place. It was once twinned with Rio de Janeiro, you know. There was a sign as you drove down Leith Walk. My wife and I couldn't help but wipe away tears of laughter away when we saw it. Delusion seems to be an important part of some sections of the Scottish psyche. Not to say that it's not a beautiful place, but priorities usually seem askew.

Again, good wishes to David but don't let this incident tempt you to the works of Michael Winner (unless it's a repeat viewing of his Chris Rea opus, Parting Shots).

Facebook Snuff?

2009-10-19T11:58:00.003+01:00

What a wonderful age we live in. The web is everywhere and we have access to millions of videos on YouTube.

But I saw something today, posted on Facebook, that has completely repelled me to my core.

There are all sorts of videos taken from real life out there. A few months ago someone posted a disturbing clip of a man electrocuted on top of a train in India, apparently after a free ride on top, like the old image of hundreds of huddled passengers on top of Indian trains we're used to seeing in movies, but are now being stamped down on by the authorities. Why? Well, a crowd had gathered as the station workers tried to get him down but he wasn't having any of it, casually wandering around on top of the carriage waiting for the train to pull away. And then he leans on a power cable. It's over in a flash, literally and his smoking carcass slams down almost as casually, essentially a large piece of burned meat. Very, very dead. It's a shocking piece of footage and has purpose in showing the dangers of doing what that man did. But it finds distribution not solely in that but also in grim entertainment. But most of the chat I saw on message boards consisted of discussion of the cause of the accident and how foolish people can be. It's a dangerous pastime, don't do it.

What I saw today amounted to nothing more than snuff. Beadle does death; You've Been Killed!

A small scooter drives along a busy road in Taiwan, unaware of the huge articulated lorry looming behind. The lorry swerves and smashes into the scooter, drawing the driver under its wheels, crushing him once and then again as the rear wheels hit, dragging him. He explodes. Blood everywhere. His arm swings around on its own sinew as the truck stops.

And someone posted it on Facebook for a laugh.

Why post it on Facebook for reason other that that? There is no warning or thought on the terrible nature of the clip. No empathy. Just a smug joke in the comment line.

I hope this is not real. I hope it's one of the many fakes out there on the web. Because it's getting around. And I wonder if people watching, exclaiming, "Whoah! Wow! Gross! Eew! Hilarious!" realise this basic fact:

This is film of the end of someones life. Ended in an unbelievably undignified and excruciating way.

As a viewer, there is detachment. The footage is from a distance. We cannot see the faces of anyone involved. It's all too much like the video footage Harry Hill muggs it up over on Saturday nights as part of ITVs "entertainment" schedule. And so the fact that this is the death of a person, just as viewers themselves lose family members to accidents, disease or murder.

Death is a part of life. We need to be able to see it and accept it. But that doesn't make it funny when it happens in real life. I'm a horror fan. Some of my favourite films involve terrible ends for many characters. But, it's not real. I know when Ash loses an arm or when Kane has his final meal that this is part of how we look at death, through either humour or exaggeration of deeper fears. And I know what it's like to find a dead body in real life - utterly distanced occurrences and sensations. I'm not going to get into an analysis of real life death and movie death. I shouldn't have to. People should be able to see something like the footage described and realise that this is real. Someone died. Those pixels do not represent a staged action or stunt. That blood is real. And you're laughing at it. Yes, we should be able to look at death; it's that taboo we hide from, often by laughing at it. But to engage in the act of distributing said footage for cheap laughs is low. Fucking low. It's not dealing with it. It's the lowest form of Schadenfreude I can conceive of. Would the folks laughing at this clip make jokes about the men, women and children who died in the Omagh bombing or the Concorde disaster?

No matter the technology or the medium, people should still know the basic difference between what is, real and fiction, right and wrong.

Or, it's fake and I've ranted over nothing. Frankly, I'd rather have ranted over nothing.

Monte Hellman's Flying Circus

2009-10-19T01:41:00.004+01:00

OK, last week was a bit shit. Well, I was a bit shit. Or, my mind was in a bit of a shit place. Apologies for the vent.

These are the things we deal with sometimes.

Anyway...

I watched my first Acid Western film tonight, The Shooting*. It was also my first Monte Hellman film. It's late now but I'll blog about it tomorrow.

But Warren Oates was superb.

On another more jolly note (jollier than last week's bout of shit), my wife and I are off to see Monty Python this week! Well, four of them. No, Cleese isn't dead but he's not coming. Spoilsport. But, to make it even better, I hear Neil Innes and Carol Cleveland will also be there. While I hated Spamalot, I'm looking forward to Eric Idle's He's Not the Messiah oratorio.

Yes. There is a Python oratorio.

Our seats'll be shite but we don't care!

I once walked past John Cleese across the road from Harrods, a few years ago. He glared at me and truly is freakishly tall. Met Palin and Gilliam in years previous. Nice gents.

*I've linked to the Wiki page instead of IMDB as there's more interesting information there.

Time to Vent

2009-10-13T13:24:00.003+01:00

Writing can be a lonely business.

Stuck in one place. Working in a vacuum. No one around. Little to no contact with the outside world or those you're supposed to be working with. And it can be awful. Bloody awful. A feeling of unbelievable remoteness and that this may all be a joke, brought on by a combination of circumstances and decisions, making you question what you're doing and who you are more than ever. Making you feel the furthest from where you want to be.

That time is now.

Back To It.

2009-10-08T11:35:00.006+01:00

Back from our holidays (a while now, but away from the blog even longer) and getting back to it. Y'know, writing. For no money. That old chestnut.

Concentrating on one thing for a long time often makes me forget about the other stuff I have to do. Come on; I'm a man! We're only supposed to be good at doing one thing at a time.

This, of course, is a load of bollocks.

But, I find myself in limbo and realise I have to pick my arse up and get on with things. The feature script I've been working on for the past 18 months is in the hands of The Powers That Be, which means I have to bide my time. Up to a point. In the meantime, that old nemesis of mine - discipline - has reared its not-as-ugly-as-I-think head and I'm getting on with other things. This is the first time in a while I've been able to devote this much time to my own spec stuff. I'm getting my portfolio up to scratch so I'm going over an older script and revising it, choosing other ideas to turn into outlines and writing one of them into a full blown first draft. This one is an ghost story that's been floating around for nearly 10 years now so I have copious notes to get through. I expect to squirm and cringe at some of my older writing. But the idea still excites me so there must be something there amongst my aged scribblings.

I'm getting on with trying to write outlines and selling synopses again - not an easy task, but there are hints and tips out there.

And I now remember that it's enormous fun doing my own thing again - writing stuff I want to go and see myself, which is one of my most important rules. My present material consists of different genres, some same genre stuff with wildly different tones and just plain old lunacy.

So, I'm firing up the movie scores on my hard drive to aid with the old inspiration thing (a bit of Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, I reckon) and getting down to it again. Time to lose myself in my head. Which is ironic considering how much I was told not to as a kid.

As fellow blogger David Bishop would put it, "Onwards!"

Kobyashi Maru and the Great Mind Fruit.

2009-09-12T14:57:00.004+01:00

Who said Smallville was in Kansas? View from the Edinburgh to London train, south of Berwick UponTweed.

We're finally off on our hols! God knows, my wife needs and deserves it, supporting this layabout...ahem, screenwriter. On the train down on London as I type (beautiful countryside on a beautiful day)and we fly out tomorrow to sunny (hopefully) Malta. And so, in order that I might take some time off myself, I've brought my laptop and notebooks. No sooner am I away than I want to get on with things. I'm unable to switch my brain off from the whole writing thing so I'm resigned to maybe starting on some other story ideas whilst away.

Completed screenplay-wise, the waiting game is in play at the moment. It's in the hands of folks who are able to help significantly or not and so I must strike a Yoda-esque pose and remain patient. I'm told following up too early can be destructive to good will so I'll have to sit still for a wee while and get on with other ideas.

It's odd; one tries to combat the distractions of other ideas when working on one particular script but when the time comes tohand that over and work on those other ideas, that particular script starts to bark and compete for attention amongst the newer ideas. Life is not like a box of chocolates. It's more like the Kobyashi Maru at times. And that keeps it from being boring.

Anyway, looking forward to some time away and then I'll be eager to get back to it once the creatives juices are re-squeezed from the Great Mind Fruit when we return.

Of Paris and Broken Toes...

2009-09-07T10:44:00.003+01:00

I've been skiving.

For the non-Scots out there, it means playing hooky or slacking off.

Well, from the blog at any rate. As life still goes on in non-blog form. But I'm here to blog again and bore you with more film and writing meanderings.

A little bit to catch up on. There has been a welcome development with the screenplay I was commissioned to write. It has attracted some significant interest here but that's all I can say right now, out of professional courtesy and a desire not to jinx it all by blurting things out and tempting fate. But it's one of those things that reminds you that there is a point to all that slogging at the keyboard in a small room surrounded by copious notes and reference books.

Other opportunities have presented themselves, forcing me to try and get more organised in order to keep the small outboard engine which is the beginning of what I hope is a career running. Unlike the small engine in my lawnmower which kept cutting out a few weeks back, leading my frustration to kick into overdrive, resulting in a broken toe. I'm not so stupid as to kick a metal petrol engine wearing flimsy trainers. It was the hopper, which was full of damp and therefore heavy grass.

Entirely my own fault. A few weeks of limping have led to it healing quicker than expected, but I still won't be near the gym for a few weeks at least.

Also had my first experience of Paris a month ago, with a nice little weekend away with my wife. Fantastic city and the cleanest I've ever been to on mainland Europe - this is not a slur on the other beautiful European cities I've been to, although a trip down the "Beautiful Blue Danube" while in Vienna stands as one of the biggest disappointments I've ever experienced. I recommend folks avoid that when in Vienna - there are much nicer things to see and hear there. But, Paris was just...so clean. I may post some pictures soon. A proper holiday in Malta is lined up next. Hell, my hard working, wonderful wife deserves it, putting up with and supporting this fledgling screenwriter.

In all, not a bad couple of weeks or so. I just have to keep the snowball going down the hill.

The Tiny Bits Making the Total Bit

2009-07-22T13:00:00.007+01:00

This might seem like a no-brainer to some, but blogging about it gets it clearer in my head, so I beg your indulgence and all that...

In my 2nd Act struggle (mine, not the characters), I'm taking a scene from a previous draft and using what some folks call "deep structure" on it. I'm now seeing its place in the story and looking at it as a sequence, giving that sequence a structure and then breaking it down into structured scenes and beats.

I structured the previous drafts around sequences but this time I'm taking those sequences and giving them a tighter structure themselves, breaking it down to make sure that everything counts and pushes the story forward. This is making it all clearer in my own mind and is veering me away from my old technique of writing reams of notes and trying to glue it all together. I'm taking those notes and trying to be more organised about it all. Otherwise, I reckon I could get lost in it all again and become mired in exposition and historical facts when I need to take every moment and see how it affects my main character.

This all comes down to being a more organised writer. Things become clearer to me when I begin to break them down and see how they are all essentially the individual bricks which make the individual walls which make the structure of each floor of the cavernous building I'm essentially writing.

Wow. That was a bit of a wanky metaphor, but even blogging about it helps me get it clearer in my mind. The other important part is maintaining my patience and not just start slapping the bricks together with too much mortar and then getting in a rage when it all falls apart (As some folks know, I'm not known for my patience).

Basically, the bleedin' obvious become more apparent to me is that Beginning, Middle and End all still matter within a sequence or a scene, as much as within the overall, conventional 3 Act Structure.

Anyway, this sequence is now beginning to excite me, both creatively and from an audience point of view. Moments are now becoming clearer and have more substance to them and I'm enjoying running it through my head.

Let's see what happens...

New Who Attire

2009-07-22T12:23:00.007+01:00

Well, colour this Doctor Who fan very happy indeed.

I was half expecting to be horrified with some sort of yoof-oriented costume like a hoody, but this is every inch the Timelord. Young Mr Smith looks great in a kind of 50's US College professor get-up, kind of like Atticus Finch meets Dr Jones. And elbow patches and braces as well - as many folks are saying, there is a bit of the Troughton about him. I was cautious about someone as young as Matt Smith playing such a revered and wise character, but there are little to no doubts remaining in my mind now. I reckon Steven Moffat knows what he's doing.

New TARDIS as well. This looks goes further back before my time as a fan, bearing more of a resemblance to William Hartnell's old girl, what with the St. John's Ambulance emblem. But it's very clean looking, leading me to believe the rumours that something catastrophic may happen to the TARDIS when the 10th Doctor regenerates. A new interior would be nice, but I'm old and just want to see something else to remind me of a childhood spent watching a particular television programme from the side of the TV - no behind the sofa for this weirdo.

All in all, this looks good to this particular Who fan. Looking forward to seeing Steven Moffat's stories next year. Yay!

Movie Meme

2009-07-21T11:16:00.002+01:00

More time wasting.

Fellow writer and blogger, Miss Read, posted this movie meme question thingamabob. I've got lots to do, so why not?

1.Name a movie that you have seen more than 10 times.
Too many to mention, but the most obvious candidate for me would be The Empire Strikes Back, but mostly on DVD or VHS. Only 4 times in the cinema, though (2 original, 2 special edition).

2.Name a movie that you’ve seen multiple times in the theater.
Again, loads. I overdose on summer movies I like. I've seen Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom in a cinema at least 6 times.

3.Name an actor that would make you more inclined to see a movie.
It would have been Harrison Ford in the past (Firewall came and went without so much as a sniff from me), but none now.

4.Name an actor that would make you less likely to see a movie.
It's usually a director who'd make me less likely to see a movie. Can't think of any obvious actors right now. Owen Wilson, maybe?

5.Name a movie that you can and do quote from.
Usually Star Wars or Aliens. Depends on the company I'm in.

6.Name a movie musical that you know all of the lyrics to all of the songs.
None. But I knew The Sound of Music pretty well as a kid.

7.Name a movie that you have been known to sing along with.
Probably Monty Python's Meaning of Life. But it's not something I normally do.

8.Name a movie that you would recommend everyone see.
Hmm. Probably Sidney Lumet's The Hill or Coppola's The Conversation.

9.Name a movie that you own.
Good god. Where to start? Um, random choice (goes to DVD cabinet and picks one with his eyes shut)...Seven Samurai.

10.Name an actor that launched his/her entertainment career in another medium but who has surprised you with his/her acting chops.
None spring immediately to mind that I like. Maybe Harry Connick Jr? Sinatra was pretty good in From Here to Eternity. And I hate Sinatra and the useless cult around his name.

11.Have you ever seen a movie in a drive-in? If so, what?
No.

12.Name a movie that you keep meaning to see but just haven’t yet gotten around to it.
Too many to mention sitting in the DVD cabinet, but I do keep meaning to sit down and watch The Apartment.

13.Ever walked out of a movie?
Yes. Prince Caspian. The first and only time so far - it takes a lot to make me want to do that.

14.Name a movie that made you cry in the theater.
E.T., Dances with Wolves, Jackson's King Kong.

15.What’s the last movie you saw in the theater?
Harry Potter & the Half Blood Prince.

16.What’s your favorite/preferred genre of movie?
Not so sure anymore. Maybe it's still Sci-Fi.

17.What’s the first movie you remember seeing in the theater?
A double bill of the Bugs Bunny/Road Runner Movie and The Seventh Voyage of Sinbad. Baptised by Harryhausen!

18.What movie do you wish you had never seen?
None. I try to get at least a little something constructive from the biggest time wasters and cinematic shit-splatters.

19.What is the weirdest movie you enjoyed?
If I enjoy it, it's not weird.

20.What is the scariest movie you’ve seen?
Alien.

21.What is the funniest movie you’ve seen?
Monty Python and the Holy Grail. This is Spinal Tap and Anchorman get a sniff as well.

Filtering It Out

2009-07-12T10:06:00.004+01:00

No, this is not a blog about keeping tropical fish.

Although the two tanks we have do provide more distraction at times (Hmm, write or clean the algae off the tank?)

I'm going over my previous draft, writing out the scene descriptions line by line with the intention of investigating what actually worked and seeing if it can be used in the new draft. But I'm questioning myself over whether this is really just another form of procrastinating or not. I'm just emerging from a rather crap period of avoiding writing and want to make sure I'm taking things in hand and not just kidding myself.

There's so much historical stuff I felt compelled to put in there as I have a real chip on my shoulder about knee-jerk Scottish Nationalist reactions to the Glencoe Massacre and feel I should try and set the story straight - I nearly got into a fight with a friend when I explained the background to the story, so ill-informed are some people. But I feel I have to strike a balance between historical accuracy and telling a cracking adventure romance.

On reflection (about a second's worth as it's bleedin' obvious), what really counts is the actual story of the main character, not splitting the point of view between the players central to the massacre itself - whom should the audience root for? The villain? The misguided Highland Chieftain? No, they should root for the bloody hero, of course! There does seem to be a slightly Hitchcockian element coming through in the new outline for the next draft (I've altered the first half of the story pretty radically, calling for a new outline or I'll trip myself up.) The thing that is emerging now and which is beginning to excite me is what I tell the audience and what I tell the main character, upping the suspense. Hopefully.

It all boils down to knowing who and what your focus is. It's too easy to get bogged down in historical details and drift from the main story, which is what an audience wants to see. Not a history lesson.

Still Here

2009-07-01T16:09:00.002+01:00

Contrary to reports, I am still here. Well, not reports, just my own sense of guilt at no one really reading this blog.

I have not been trapped in a well with only an aging beetle for company waiting for Andy Summers to dig me out.

I have not been abducted by aliens bearing a resemblance to Tom Petty, asking where this "wonderful Crossroads television signal has gone".

I have not secured a career in the manufacture of rubber cutlery for the fumbling gentleman.

Nor have I been held at spear-point by a disgruntled paper facsimile of Richard Digance.

But I have endured the generally risible Transformers 2, Terminator: Salvation and Wolverine, missed almost all of this year's Edinburgh Film Festival AGAIN (while catching one shorts show and catching a glimpse of one of my all time heroes, Joe Dante along with Roger Corman), spent three weeks without alcohol of any kind and tried to avoid procrastinating as much as possible.

Still, Psychoville is pretty good. Welcome back, Gents. Now, where are the other two?

Managed a trip to Glencoe to see the place I've been writing about all this time. Beautiful and intimidating part of the world and I'll post about that soon.

Will endeavour to blog again.

Brevity, Where Art Thou?

2009-05-26T21:07:00.003+01:00

How hard can it be to write a satisfactory development outline? Not the 10 page or more type, but the one or two page type, setting things out at an early stage? I'm buggered if I know. Got to get this thing down and I'm in danger of overwriting it.

I suppose it is harder writing that kind of document, condensing things and telling it as quickly as you can, without either resorting to an expanded logline (i.e: cheating) or subconsciously doing to much. The latter probably means I'm not confident in my descriptions and feel the reader would need to know more.

Time for a metaphorical scythe to hit the text, methinks.

Coming up for air

2009-05-21T13:01:00.006+01:00

Crikey. I need a bit of air away from this bloody keyboard. I'm actually getting some work done.

Blog posts are a bit thin on the ground for me right now. I'm hammering out a short outline for a possible horror project - if it doesn't happen, I'll still write the beggar as a spec script as I think it's a neat idea - and then it's back to Glencoe for another draft.

I'm not watching too many films right now as a result, but that'd be a hell of a better form of procrastination that arsing around on Facebook all day. Suffice to say that I loved Star Trek (but it's not without its problems) and hated Wolverine. Summer seems to start earlier every year in cinemas now. Pretty soon, we'll be watching "blockbusters" in February at this rate. Maybe Christmas will be rescheduled to September.

I still have lots of horror films to watch - my Lovefilm queue is 90% made up of them right now and I'm making progress with my Hammer Box set - I managed to squeeze in To The Devil A Daughter last week. If you pardon the expression. Nice performance from Christopher Lee but a very stupid ending.

The disorganised ballet goes on...

Faith in Lee

2009-05-13T11:45:00.011+01:00

There's something quite comforting about seeing Christopher Lee as a good guy in a Hammer film. The calm authority he exudes in his more villainous roles serves to let you know that someone with real knowledge is in charge. But this also serves to let you know that the challenge about to be faced may be greater. Such is the case in Terence Fisher's The Devil Rides Out, a film I've been hearing friends rattle on about for years and finally watched last night.

It wasn't quite the masterpiece I'd been led to believe it to be, but it is certainly one of the best Hammer films I've seen so far. I think not seeing the film for such a long time after having heard about it, perhaps the title of the film gave me a grander impression of the proceedings. The only time anyone "rides out" is when the Angel of Death appears on a horse, stuck at the mercy of an editor having too much fun with the reels, winding them back and forth. Finding it relying much less on the schlockiness of some of their other films, there is a genuinely unsettling feeling to much of the proceedings, but nowhere near as much as in Night of the Demon, a film which scared the bejesees out of me as a nipper (even if the titular demon does look like it's riding a bike in its wider shots).

Distracting Patrick Mower from the Emmerdale with a haircut proved disastrous.

There are three moments where some kind of creature shows up, two of which I found particularly effective. The first is where the initial demon appears, manifested as a black man. Not very scary and a touch of the ol' Empire thinking, one might say. I may grant you the latter, in context, but what is really scary is the demon's eyes. Two unnaturally yellow orbs in an otherwise calm and normal face, altering the visage just enough to make the familiar into the horrible - a fine line which, when crossed, can result in pure comedy.

"I've got something in my teeth, haven't I?"

The other is when the Goat of Mendes shows up - a bloke in a mask, to be sure, but done just right so that the actor's eyes show through, giving the beast a real look of life. The fact that Terence Fisher doesn't dwell on showing off the mask and tends to keep the Goat in the background for several shots helps tremendously. It treads a fine line again between stupid and scary and dwelling on it would have made it as scary as grass growing. Maybe I just find odd things scary. It's an eye thing for me. One of the scariest aspects of Giger's Alien is its lack of eyes.

Ah, Charles Gray. One of the best British screen villains ever, in my humble op. His parting words to Lee's niece are wonderfully threatening - "I shall not be back. But something will." Shudder. The unseen is the best cause of fear, yet again.

One problem I had, and I may have to watch the film again, was the Deus ex Machina style ending. Yes, Christopher Lee did say that the incantation could alter time, but something felt missing in this regard. A tad convenient.

Nevertheless, a great Hammer film with a superb performance from Lee. I've seen him once only before as a good guy in a Hammer film in The Gorgon, but I found his performance, which was broader and a bit loud, to be less effective, even if it was refreshing. It's odd how unusual it seems to find him as a good guy in a Hammer film, whereas we can take Peter Cushing working for either side as read.

Sellers Alive?

2009-05-12T14:40:00.004+01:00

Is Peter Sellers alive and well and aiding Michael Jackson in his career revivial/farewell/last gasp before his slide into obscurity?

"I like to watch" - Being There

Well, no. But the director of the High School Musical films, Kenny Ortega, certainly bears a resemblance at this angle, even if Ortega's chin and Sellers lack of protest at Steve Martin's recent activites are a bit of a giveaway.

I thought they were a pair of lookalikes. One can never tell with Jackson these days. One day, he may very well be revealed to be the Beast, from Krull. And when that happens, only Kenneth Marshall and Alun Armstrong can save us.

Call Me Bwana...er , Bond.

2009-05-12T09:46:00.007+01:00

Coke bottles find a use in Soviet Russia.

Cubby Broccoli's centenary has brought us new and beautiful digital prints of the first seven (I think) Bond films and I managed to catch a screening of From Russia, With Love last week. I'd previously seen film prints of Dr No and Goldfinger in the past and I love watching the crackle of the print up there on the screen, but age means deterioration and the print of Dr No snapped mid film (kudos to the projectionist, one Fraser MacDonald, I believe, for repairing it and allowing us to hear Big Tam's rendition of Underneath The Mango Tree...). No such problem with the new print of 'Russia.

Spoilers ahead for 'Russia and Quantum of Solace if you live under a large, irregular mound of solid mineral.

Wow. Seeing Bond on the big screen is, as usual, the only way to really see it and the opportunity to watch one of the early ones is a rare pleasure, especially as clearly as this. The amount you are able to take in visually increases exponentially and the moment where the killer Krilencu tries to escape through Anita Ekberg's embiggened mouth is even more bizarre in a crystal clear print, before the great Pedro Armendariz takes him out (having the villain escape out of Bob Hope's mouth might have worked in a Roger Moore film, but here...erm, nope).

As Ali Kerim Bay, Pedro Armendariz is wonderful in the film, reminding me of Giancarlo Gianinni's Mathis in Daniel Craig's recent outings. He really brings to life a man who clearly enjoys what he does and gives him a real feeling of warmth and friendliness, even when he evades being exploded by giving in to his randy mistress. What a life, Ali Kerim Bay had. As a result, I really felt for him after he met his unseen end on the train. Like everyone in Bond's business, Kerim Bay knew the risks, but that does not mean we should not feel a little at his demise. Once again, Mathis' sad demise in Quantum of Solace springs to mind again. What I find equally tragic is the fact that Armendariz was actually dying himself during the making of the film, something he discovered during the making of the film. He was crippled with cancer in his hips and had to be doubled for some wider walking shots - when he and Bond exit the car at the Gypsy camp, it is obviously not Armendariz. But his limp is pretty visible in the scenes on the train.

"Who is this Ricardo Montalban of whom you speak?"

There could be the usual argument that the casual racism of the time led to casting a Mexican actor as a Turkish spy ("he's foreign, he'll do") but Armendariz brought a real humanity and sense of honour and refinement to the role which could have been squandered on a lesser actor, which I believe happened many more times later in the Bond series. Tragically, he shot himself after the end of filming but not before he made sure his family received his salary for the film. A superb actor and, by accounts, a real gentleman.

The other standout role is the relentlessly intimidating Robert Shaw as Donald "Red" Grant. He doesn't utter a word onscreen until he assumes the identity of Bond's contact and meets with Bond on the train. The sheer menace he exudes is amazing, especially when he casually puts on his killing gloves in public when accompanying an unsuspecting victim. I heard a story a few years back from a Bond fanatic friend at university that the fight between Bond and Grant on the train, one of cinema's greatest brawls in my humble opinion, was actually real. They were both big guys who liked a drink and a scrap who decided to go for it and not pull their punches. Whether this is true or not, I don't know but there are some punches and kicks which certainly seem to make contact.

"Yeah, I like High School Musical. So what? Big woop. Wadda fide aboud id?"

The man did silent menace and barely contained physicality better than anyone, I think. Any moment, he could have erupted in an explosion of quick violence. The fact he didn't made him scarier and ramped up any suspense immeasurably. I'm surprised Hitchcock never took advantage of this. Frankly, I found Quint scarier than the shark in Jaws.

Even the other members of the cast are memorable. Lotte Lenya's Rosa Klebb still makes me squirm uncomfortably, her voice setting my teeth on edge and Vladek Shaybel as SPECTRE agent Kronstein is supremely memorable, introduced brilliantly at a chess tournament. His face and performance are so memorable, I have trouble believing him to be a good guy as the doctor in UFO. And even if Daniela Bianchi was dubbed, well...

It still stands up as a great and supremely confident Bond movie; in fact confident enough not have Bond appear for at least the first fifteen minutes of the film. I'm annoyed I didn't know about the other screenings until it was too late. Ah well.

Return

2009-05-05T10:34:00.003+01:00

Wow. A month since I last blogged. My apologies. A combination of a heavy cold and general laziness I'm afraid. There is more to tell - it's not been an enormously eventful month but work is hopefully turning a new corner, albeit unpaid. I have a list of things in this period I'll blog about, including my Skillset interview, progress of the third draft of Glencoe, Wolverine, a night oot with Shadowplayer David Cairns and friends, excitment at Star Trek (IMAX baby!) and plans for a guerilla feature film - I've noticed an unforgivable descent into coffe shop filmmaker syndrome, somethin I despise.

There, I said it. A guerilla feature film. I'll have to do it now.

Portmanteau Emptiness

2009-04-03T22:21:00.007+01:00

A search for portmanteau horror proved fruitless today. Among the titles I was after, Dr Terror's House of Horror, The Vault of Horror, The House that Dripped Blood and Tales from the Crypt, I found absolutely no trace at the only HMV I was able to get to (i.e. park free) except for an empty place card for Vault of Horror.

Bloody hell. Must try harder (me or the retailers?). Actually, there's this thing called the internet. Might I be able to somehow purchase these films...online? There's not even a DVD rental place where I live now. Nor in the next town. What's that, I hear you say. LoveFilm? I must OWN these things, you fool!

Loads of straight to DVD US bullshit non-horror "horror" and gorno in HMV but none of what I was after. Severely disappointing. My search goes on. I also now want to get my hands on Zulu, Where Eagles Dare & Went the Day Well after recommendations from a good friend (think I've got The Eagle has Landed somewhere on VHS, Colin). I saw the first two titles as a nipper but they now bear analysis it seems. Plus, Burton and Eastwood in the same film. Genius! I always remember that cold shiver down my spine as Donald Houston fell from the cable car, straight down from camera, years before John McTeirnan had Alan Rickman grasp in futility at Bonnie Bedelia's new watch atop the Nakatomi Plaza. Brilliant.

Must think of more effective joyful adjectives.

Yippekyay, Doctor Schreck.

When I Missed Gorgo

2009-04-02T17:11:00.006+01:00

Over at Shadowplay, David Cairns' quest to "See Reptilicus & Die!" got me thinking about a monster movie I'm keen to see again. Or actually see in its entirety this time. Must have been about 9 or 10 and we (me, bro & sis) were to go across the road to friends of our parents while they went out for a meal. Mum and Dad get ready and then BBC2 start to show Gorgo! That rare thing, a UK Man in a Suit Monster film, like Konga. I had a real thing for big monster movies at this point and so I became attached to the TV instantly. Gorgo was basically Godzilla, except he (or they, as his mum did much of the smashing) had weird webbed ears and attacked London as opposed to Tokyo. Poor Tokyo. At least they got the day off from Gorgo.

The time came to nip across the road to Mrs Burns' house. Off we went, or off I hurried to continue watching Gorgo. We didn't have a VCR at the time and my mum assured me, half-heartedly, that I could watch the rest across the road. My dad had already teased me about what happened next as he had already seen Gorgo as a kid and I was anxious to see Mummy Gorgo come back to claim her captured offspring. "Wait til you see her! She's 10 times the size he is!" he cried. My enthusiasm grew exponentially. And then we got into Mrs Burns' house where we had some juice and biscuits and I asked to see the rest of Gorgo. Could I?

Could I fuck.

I'll never know why, but old Mrs Burns' (in her 60's I think) refused, giving no real reason. A film called BMX Bandits was on the other channel. We could watch that, she said.

What? BMX BANDITS?!?!?

More suitable for children apparently.

My protestations that the central character in Gorgo was in fact a young boy fell on deaf ears. All I knew was that each second I watched these irritating Australian kids zipping around on their bikes solving some crime I didn't care about, was another second I was missing of Gorgo!

No huge loss in the grand scheme of things, but as a kid, horrendous. Until the next day, when I generally forgot about it went on to the next thing. And this is the closest I can get to it right now:

One of many films I want to see again, probably unwisely. But you can't beat a Man in a Suit Monster Movie. I love the fact that in this age of CG, they still make them like that in Japan. In fact, Man in a Suit Godzilla went up against the CG version of Roland Emmerich's Godzilla, now called Zilla in Japan.

Good ol' Gojira kicked his pixellated arse back into the ocean. This is what happens when rubber meets CG.

Leaky Adamantium

2009-04-01T11:20:00.004+01:00

It would appear that a workprint of 20th Century Fox studios X-Men Origins - Wolverine, has leaked onto the internet. My initial reaction was that this was an April Fool's joke. But if it is, is being played against Fox and its CEO and general object of fanboy hatred, Tom Rothman.

Internet comic and movie fanboys are an alternatively amusing and infuriating bunch, if you're foolish enough to pay attention to their infantile tantrums. A glimpse at the Talkbacks at Aint It Cool News gives an instant summation of their general idiocy, thankfully interspersed with some common sense. I love comic book movies (done well, that is) and get as upset as anyone if they're buggered up by a filmmaker with no understanding of the potential of the material or by obvious studio interference (which Fox and Rothman have been accused of repeatedly), but these clowns are in a different league. And now they might be having the last laugh as the torrents for this pirated film spread faster than the Conficker virus (although, that might not be a fast enough analogy, thankfully) across the net.

And consequently, the "reviews" start to pour forth, increasing the damage done by spreading bad word of mouth.

But whatever their opinion on the film (which I'll not go into), they seem to still be fired up with the same vitriol at a viewing experience FOR WHICH THEY HAVE NOT PAID A PENNY. Those who hate the film still complain, as though it is their God given right to do so, and that despicable "rape" analogy appears again.

I'll not watch the pirated version of a film which has a temp score, no wire removal and unfinished FX. I'll pay to see the finished film in a cinema. I might not like it, but at least I'll have contributed to the wages of the people who work their arse off to make these film. And I'm not talking about directors or producers (note I leave writers out of it. Heh.) but those who make up 95% of the crew, who work harder than any of those basement dwelling monkeys, stuffing their faces with plastic cheese and concentrated sugar, getting a free ride while normal folks to make movies. Hollywood is a business and like other businesses right now people are being laid off. While much of the money generated by a film like this does not go into their pockets, unlike the execs and above the line talent, they still need to earn a living. And ruining the chances of a film like this just to get back at the people who are safest financially is pathetic. Hollywood looks to save money - if they can lay off folks to do that while their films get a smaller return, down to piracy, then they will do that. And all the while, the complaining fanboys will find something else to be smug and selfish about.

I'll not wholly condemn all torrenting as there are many rare and unobtainable gems out there. But if you watch this film for free, see it again and pay for it instead of acting like spoilt, selfish brats.

Digital Leone

2009-03-31T13:03:00.004+01:00

Saw a digital screening of The Good, The Bad & The Ugly yesterday. I'd never watched the entire film before and I'm so glad I kept that experience for the big screen. Absolutely brilliant. Leone's use of close ups is just fantastic and the first 10 minutes or so of the film have no dialogue, over two scenes - Lee Van Cleef's entrance and subsequent meal with his target is gripping. Fantastic frame compositions, particularly in the first hour of the film (almost painterly, particularly when Angel Eyes interrogates Bill Carson's girl and when Tuco arrives back at his gang's subterranean hideout).

One thing which really struck me was that while Clint Eastwood is the most recognisable and commercially exploited figure in the film, this is really Eli Wallach's film. He's it's star, to me. Tuco is in the majority of the scenes and Clint's Blondie always seems to be orbiting Tuco somehow. God bless Eli Wallach. The man is in his 90's and is still acting regularly. He and Ernest Borgnine should get cast together in something.

Beautiful digital "print". The few scratches seemed to originate on the fairly clean print used for the transfer, but the graininess of the optical titles and transitions was more noticeable. But lovely, nonetheless. It's nice to see a classic movie in a cinema without the overt scratchiness associated with the change of reels. Here's hoping the Edinburgh Cineworld keeps up it's Monday Classic screenings in future, although there seems to be nothing scheduled for next week. DVD is convenient, but these films should be seen in a cinema.

Goodnight Lorne

2009-03-31T12:48:00.003+01:00

Two obit posts in as many days. Bugger.

Some folks might not have known who Andy Hallett was, but as a fan of Angel I knew him as the demonic host Krevlornswath. Or just Lorne, the flamboyant and showbiz nightclub owner. Angel seems to have been the dominant part of his tragically short acting career and he always lit up the episodes he appeared in.

He'd had heart trouble for some time, apparently, but you'd think that we'd be medically on top of this sort of thing these days. Poor guy. I may have to watch There's No Place Like Plirtz Glirb, one of his best episodes of Angel, later today.

Maurice Jarre

2009-03-30T09:18:00.005+01:00

Sad about the death of Maurice Jarre at 84. I loved his music as a child. I found much of it eerily beautiful and still do. Lara's Theme always reminds me of a strange little clockwork ballroom dancing couple trapped in a caraf at my great Aunt's who would foxtrot to a music box version of that theme. It always seemed to be the tune played by the ice cream van as well. Such are the strange memories of childhood when considering such a great contributor to cinema as Jarre.

And then there was this...

Thank you, Monsieur Jarre.

The Perfect AD Campaign?

2009-03-15T10:11:00.005Z

I found this over at CHUD this morning. It's either cinematic commercial suicide or inspired advertising.

It treads a fine line between desperation and inspiration. You won, boys. I'm intrigued.

Hitch 1 - The Pleasure Garden

2009-03-12T11:25:00.006Z

The mighty and terrifyingly knowledgeable David Cairns, over at the magnificent film blog, Shadowplay, has been watching a Hitchcock film a week, starting back at the beginning of the year - 50 films over 52 weeks I believe - to kind of mark the anniversary of his blog (I think). And I said I'd try to join in, being a Hitchcock fan and wanting to know more about the man and his early films.

Well, me being me, this has not really come to pass. I wanted to keep up week for week but a combination of my usual sloth, unavoidable circumstances and the non-availability of some of the films led to my desire to join in falling by the wayside (as a schoolboy, I was usually content not to join in popular activities. Usually).

But! I have decided to renew my attempts to keep up. I managed to track down a DVD of Hitchcock's first film, The Pleasure Garden, a while back and gave it a spin. And so I going to catch up as best I can and keep up; Read-a-long-a-Hitch, as David put it.

There are those who'd argue that The Pleasure Garden was not Hitchcock's first film and they might cite Number Thirteen as his first. But that wasn't finished and I'm not sure if it still exists (someone can correct me or back me up on that), so I consider that argument a pile of old wank. There were a number of films after that which Hitchcock either co-directed or is listed as doing "Scenario" for. But The Pleasure Garden seems to be the one which he himself listed as his first feature film. And so there I have begun.

The cover of the DVD was a bit misleading, summarising the story as a scandal laden tale where a successful dancer falls to wealth and vice, endangering her life! This isn't quite the case with the film. It does involve a dancing girl, Patsy, who finds fame and forgets those who love her but the story seems to change tack halfway through, focusing more on Jill, who helped her get her break and the subsequent love triangle centre around Jill, her unfaithful and slothful husband and Patsy's fiance. I found it to be a bit of a morality tale, albeit possibly titillating for its time. Patsy doesn't seem to learn any lessons and seems to be forgotten by the end of the film. A bit like a modern Simpsons episode, where you build up one storyline only to veer off in another direction.

The opening sequence, establishing Jill and the other dancers, was interesting to me for a couple of reasons. Older men, in dickie bows, sit leering at the dancers from the stalls. Hitchcock focuses on one in particular, who takes a real shine to Jill and meets her backstage.

He leers at her through his opera glasses, mugging it up pre-Sid James, eyes bulging, lusty smile. Hitchcock cuts to his POV through the glasses and I immediately thought that this was Hitch putting his early stamp on the film, as his use of the male gaze and general voyeurism would reappear many times in his future films where he would have much more creative control. The Blond preoccupation could be seen to be appearing early on here as well, with the old chap expressing his delight at her golden locks, only to have his lust smote when she pulls a lock of ringlets out and offers it to the old chap, proving it's only a wig. The blond lock does seem a bit worm-like and his revulsion is amusing.

The other part about this which caught my attention was how much this old letch reminded me of a Ronnie Barker comedy character. Not one in particular, but The Two Ronnies would often feature period and silent sketches and Barker, all eyeliner and comedy grimaces, would stop me every time. I can't watch the opening of this film now without smiling a little more than I might have before.

Next up should be The Mountain Eagle, but I don't think any copies of that are known to exist. So it's on to YouTube for a squint at The Lodger.

...More Than He Can Chew?

2009-03-11T18:03:00.004Z

Well, looking at some of the things I'm working on, I see some of them may be collaborations. As well as my spec short I've been writing, my feature idea (not quite at outline stage yet) and a short I've been trying to edit for a few years now (unacceptable, I know) there are now two more potential projects, one of which looks like it might happen (it's funded too so it'll get made, but it's unpaid) and another which has been thrown my way, which hasn't been set in stone but is appealing as a cross genre piece.

Both of these projects have differing levels of excitement, one of them especially so as it has the potential to get my name out there as a writer as it is going to be entered into loads of festivals - exciting but also means that I really want to apply myself to this one.

Might buy a desk planner to try and get some organisation down on paper. And then adhere to it. Which will be the challenge.

But, creative times ahead. Even if I do need a paid job pretty damn desperately.

B

Fresh Start

2009-03-09T11:44:00.004Z

Well, what a couple of weeks. I'll say no more other than we gave our good friend Neil a hell of a send off last week and that now is the time to get on with things, as he would have done. In fact, he'd have started by now. Spring is in the air (blown along by that bastard wind that's been assaulting us of late), it's daylight when I get up now and the desire to get on with things is greater than ever.

So, I'm writing a new short. A supernatural drama dealing with grief - just in case anyone is wondering, I got the idea long before I even knew my friend was ill. It's a tad Twilight Zone-esque, and I'm hoping what might seem like a twist at the moment will seem more natural onscreen. Twists in shorts can be so predictable and I want to avoid that in this instance. My biggest problem in the past, apart from finance, has been a lack of a producer. I'm looking to change that now and am openly looking for one who wants to help make this film.

So, that short and then I've two other projects to get on with after that. As well as re-drafting Glencoe (thanks to those helping out by providing feedback for me) and working more on a project with a friend. Some actual income would be nice as well!!

I'm also thinking of changing the look of my blog. Any help out there?

Lots to do.

B

Neil Platt

2009-02-25T14:15:00.002Z

Bye, mate.

A great friend. A loving husband and father. A strong man in every way.

Just the best person to know.

I will miss you.

Until we meet again.

Robinson

For a Friend

2009-02-25T11:54:00.006Z

Hi all,

I'd appreciate it if anyone reading this blog would read my friend Neil's blog at The Plattitude. That's Neil in the picture above. Smiling, beer at hand, ready to spread good times to all. And how I will always remember him.

It is entirely possible that this will be his last entry and it is so important to try and spread word of this wretched disease and the harm it inflicts on all those affected by it. Neil's driving force in this last year of his life has been to spread awareness of Motor Neuron Disease.

Whichever way you can, whether you Tweet it, post it on Facebook, Digg it, Blog it, Mixx it, Google it or any other of the myriad forms on communication these days. Please, pass it on.

Many thanks,

B

The Hardest Thing in Life So Far

2009-02-21T21:40:00.006Z

Watching a friend slowly succumb to a cruel and incurable disease.

Still there. Trapped in his own flesh. By his own flesh. Avenues of expression slowly closing off, one by one. Lying in front of his wife and son and family and friends. But separated from them in an unspeakable way.

The anger I feel. The pain I feel. The sorrow at times missed. These can be nothing compared to those felt by him and his loved ones.

I feel so helpless watching my friend die.

Back from the cold...

2009-02-20T14:46:00.004Z

Good god! Where have I been?

It all started several years ago, when Sir Splitford Gomm rang up asking about my inclusion amongst the crew of his expedition into the heart of Darkest Corstorphine. My refusal resulted in a press gang forming outside my back door over the course of several weeks, unspotted by either myself or the dogs. To cut a long story short, there was a terrible mess made once they had struck, leading to a chase led my Ringo Ondatje, Gomm's leading lamplighter and man of many faces. I only managed to lose Ringo yesterday by passing myself off as Richard Digence's spine specialist, Henrietta Blish and using a staple gun to attach Ringo and his posse to a cargo flight bound for Christmas Island.

Well, of course not. A combination of laziness, the ol' "D" word and other stuff have gotten in the way. But suffice to say that the scaring of small, tree dwelling rodents shall recommence as of this moment. I've also fallen prey to this Twitter thing presently doing the zeitgeistal rounds and can be found here: http://twitter.com/TalcyBr i.

Well, spring is sounding like it's in the air - more birds in the garden (several new Gold Finches, a Thrush and a Sparrowhawk ripping a sparrow from the garden bench) and even an evening chorus. Plus walking the dogs with only a jacket on (trousers, yes of course I wore bleedin' trousers) in the sunshine. Hope it lasts.

Current task is preparing a proper writer's CV for an application to Skillset to try and get farther up the road and perhaps earn some more moolah. Glencoe reached a second revised draft but where now? New ideas are also afoot and a zero budget (but believeable!) alien invasion script is occupying most of my writing time at the mo.

B