Tag Archives: Film

Clive Owen Time Machine

In my acting class I am being asked to pick a scene that’s reflective of my ‘type’ which is harder than it seems.   I need to know my type so I don’t try for roles that seek ‘a typical Wall Street banker type with an extra macho streak – wants to own his own buffalo wings bar with topless servers while using their breasts for ad space “. This is not me.  Casting is so important. It can make or kill a film.

I was watching Elizabeth: The Golden Age the other night as I have never seen it since I already  know how that story ends anyway but enjoyed the first. About ten-fifteen minutes in, all is proper and Golden Agey and then Sir Walter Raleigh appears to present his gifts from the new world to the Queen.   I would expect Mr. Raleigh to be a little haggard, a little unkempt, maybe a bit of a coconut gut but in walks Clive Owen as Clive Oweny as ever, looking a Queen Elizabeth like a six foot macaroon he was going to stuff in his cheeks.  As some know, I consider Clive Owen the asymptote of masculinity; others may approach, but never reach as they approach infinity.   Here, he looked like he stepped into the Clive Owen Time Machine, which was shaped like him except slightly larger, whisked himself off to 1600 just to seduce Queen Elizabeth. He was dressed like he borrowed one of Russell Crowe’s extra coats from Master and Commander because he was late to the shoot.   And there he was, from the 21st Century, showing the Queen what a potato was “You eat it” as he held it up like a prism.  Clive Owen saying in extra clothes to the Queen “THis is a potato, you eat it” ruined the rest of the film; it made it ridiculous because I know it wasn’t Sir Walter Raleigh; it was Clive Owen, out of his time machine, proving he could seduce any woman in history.  He’s like Waldo.   If he would have ridden in on a Harley I would have been impressed with the film and then he did a Voiceover like Sin City (There was that tension in the court, the kind you find under warrior’s armpit six minutes before going to battle a sloth. I knew the one way to get the Queen was the way I knew on the streets; flashing a potato.”).   Of course, the Queen got to make out with him even as he knocked up on of her court ladies.

I look forward to the next rendition of Joan of Arc.  I have a hunch who will hang glide in wearing a biker jacket.

My scenes are Shakespeare, doc Brown and Father Karras from Shakespeare in Love, Back to the Future, and The Exorcist, a nice little blend.  We’ll see.  I did a liver flush last night and I’m a little fatigued.  Tired on many fronts; uncertainty’s  abound, crops are plentiful.


Enter Pete’s Dragon

Finally, after much effort, a promotional trailer for Frenemies has been completed.  I love to mix pleasure with pleasure and so I’ll get it posted.  I’m pleased and look forward to the hundreds of thousands of dollars it will attract like a hungry magnet so I can film this ditty.  I look forward to the orgasmic powers of delegation as I was an artistic  Doctor Octopus and wrote, directed, starred, did the basic editing, scored and played the instruments and designed the dress Kate is wearing.  It’s been a great experience and probably saved me $100,000 in film school loans. Look forward to sharing soon and today, after a weekend of tying it together, is a comedown day where my brain feels like it’s drinking airline mini wines in a hotel near an unscheduled layover near Dallas Forth Worth International; exactly like that.

Now, a Kickstarter campaign will be posted to raise funds to hire someone to raise funds;  I once had this idea of having a fundraiser for a fundraiser in regards to my play Whorapy; how prophetic.  I just wish manifesting didn’t drive in the damn slow lane all the time;  if it’s got 8 under the hood, use it once in a while and squeeze the lemons out of the speed limit and let’s see how fast we can put dreams into the thirdest of dimensions.


Somewhere Bruce Lee swirls around inside me like a animated leviathan, full of muscular justice and righteous passion and when it surges to the surface, I try to funnel it into rhythm and words and slick movement through moments and sometimes, it gets away from me and I feel so large I can hear Jupiter squeaks when it turns.  Such are the reflections of a rainy Monday, where the body and mind feel contracted, to rest. 

Frenemies in Action and Appendage Dissertations

I’ve started to look at footage for Frenemies and I have to admit I’m excited, especially after having to deal with the State of New York’s Youth Nazi Party Junior Spokesperson and Fake Streetsweeper and then some Novia Scotia crosswinds and temperatures;  after two hours of grappling with Final Cut and technology in general I’m going to hire someone; otherwise my computer will end up in several quadrants of the universe;  I have little patience of passion for software language mastery;  I’m the petulant artist with a passion for romping through the dingy maelstroms of the human condition in disco clothes with great naughty words scribbled on them so I don’t have much patience for how to get a graphic to explode into tiny notes between shots;  I have awe and respect for those that do and am now going to pay someone to prove how Awesish I am towards them;  it took me three days to come down from the organic high of filming and am ready to swerve back into grappling with all projects; when I go a few days without writing I get a bit cranky on top of my normal Martian mood climate.

I will say that I am excited to finish this little promotional video;  Monique, who plays Kate, is very talented and I feel good as we head into the next phase of attracting money like Oprah; otherwise I’ll do what the Federal Reserve does and just print a bunch of fake money, except I’ll have portraits of all the same Presidents except with facial expressions right as they’re climaxing; it will be sexy fake money, unlike the real fake money we currently use; still, I’d love to have a loads of that fake real money in my bank account so Frenemies can be filmed with as much original vision as possible.



There are times where I wish I could clip the intercontinental transdimensional cable wire that runs from my brain to my penis; hotwire my ethics so I can take myself for a spin; something won’t let me sleep around anymore;  my penis is much smarter than me now; I don’t know when it happened; maybe it got tired of laying around ignored all the time and got an online degree at the Phoenix School while I was sleeping; but I cannot just ‘get laid’ anymore; my penis, in a lecture circuit to my other organs, has turned them against me and now it only rises when prompted by some inner sanctum uprising of the soul, streaking through the Valley of Aches and shouting madness at all the souls around until its echo is swallowed and returned better than when it left my groin;  it can make for lonesome nights but there’s something deeper going on and all I can do it is let it wrestle  until there’s nothing left but feathers and organic orgasms.

The twelve hour Joyday of madness

I just finished wrapping a one day shoot for a promotional trailer for Frenemies;  we started at 9am and last until about 8pm;  I forgot how how much crazy fun it is even getting something set up to film, let alone film it;  today I wanted to film our brief intro at a park in Williamsburg; it was cloudy i the mid forties; nobody was in the tony park and it offered a perfect view of Manhattan; however, there was a man driving around in one of those Popemobiles with dusters in front and he kept driving in circles and then finally, after hauling all of our equipment and I had laid down the track, drove up and told us we couldn’t film there without a permit because it was a state park and set me off for a bit;  a vacant park being told by a man whose job it was to drive a glorified Swiffer in circles with the swiffing portion one foot off the ground while his partner was mowing a February lawn with no live grass was a bit much for me not to consider I was dealing with a man who wanted no one to enjoy themselves; if the state of NY is that anally sewn up about it I will think twice about filming here. That man pissed off my anger; sometimes I get angry but my anger doesn’t get angry but today was a farce;  I look forward to mocking the state in the future in one of my pieces.

It set us back a couple of hours and we had to film in a soccer field next door;  I created  a physics challenge for filming as the angles were created in my mind for the Pope Swiffer I-Mobile Fascist Park; with my great cast/crew we managed and delivered enough good footage to give us something to use that will be rugged enough to be far enough away from too polished and give a peek of what this film is going to be; I want something filmed like it came out of 1975, windswept, messy sloppy and perfect;  I can’t wait until we get this filmed;

The day was a great great time;  I am exhausted and going to watch zombies now.


Cinema and the beating 35mm human heart

As the Oscar’s get moving, I’ll be writing or practicing piano; I haven’t seen all of the best picture nominees or films with best actor/director nominees so watching them seems pointless. What does excite me every year are the Razzie nominees, which they announce the same day as the Oscars;

This year Adam Sandler with 12 nods including worst actor, actress, writer and producer, crushed the previous record for number of nominations (5, by Eddie Murphy) for a dingle year.  When Jack and Jill came out, living in New York and forced to be inundated with oversize posters where the human heads on them are sometimes five times the size of the real life version and airbrushed to the Alien Pudding Limit,  I could feel the Shame Radiation emanating from the tree corpse turned into the paper forced to be used for this poster. Usually I try to actually see something horrid before getting angry for having two hours sucked from my life like the machine from Princess Bride minus the charm and wit of that film.  For some reason, seeing this film even being released felt like a tipping point;  I’m not certain a film like this would even get suggested, let alone made, thirty years ago.

I don’t believe in good old days; I don’t believe in looking back unless the future has a rear view mirror. Glorifying the past is an epidemic of the human mind.  So I usually avoid saying film isn’t what it used to be or paved roads aren’t what they used to be or anal sex just wasn’t what it once was when Eisenhower was President, “There used to be good old fashioned quiet guilt and inner persecution.”

I will say, in film and maybe in other arts that the pendulum, the poor pendulum that used to swing back and forth in different directions but at the same general longitude of quality, is stuck on a piece of gum on a wall and hasn’t swung back towards the slower moving, calmer, soul-digging risky ventures of the 50’s-80’s;  I realize there’s a lot of forgettable film made in those times also but I can’t help but notice, when watching a film like Some Came Running  or Laura, the film noir classic,  my inner heart-art muscle gets that good ache, as it reminds me of what it means to grapple from moment to moment with the sensibilities of being a mature, sophisticated adult in a world that wants to dehumanize that at times. The actor in Laura whose name eludes me was so present and the director so trusting of that presence not much cutting back and forth and Law and Order camera bouncy bouncy was needed, making the seemingly sparse camera movements all the more meaningful and noticeable without being awkward. Am I making sense here?  When casually looking for a DP to film Frenemies a few months ago, most of the reels I saw were one, two or three second shots that bounced from one to the other like a frog on Snickers. I don’t know how to glean anything from two second shots spliced together; the other thing I noticed was eager over maneuvering for dramatic effect.  As one who is familiar with forcing, trying too hard in art over the years, I know the look.

The same with music;   sometimes I get the sense that music gets used to compensate for something not happening on the screen with/between/among the actors that should be;  it happens more often than I’d like.

For me it all comes down to the acting and trust; a few months ago when I was with this modeling/acting agency briefly one of their modeling agents, a very successful and candid fellow, said that thirty years ago actors were hired on talent and today it’s looks; I imagine he was riffing off the CW; I’m not so fatalistic but that’s not what you want to hear from someone supposed to be getting you auditions, especially when I don’t have Taylor Lautner Abduction abs.

The question becomes was there a Jack and Jill equivalent released by a major studio during the 1950’s, the same year they released On the Waterfront?  The pendulum that swings through the breadth of the human experience combined with the inner knowledge we now possess as we move through the 21st Century hopefully will create soul mad, exciting, Undertow Embracing, character and relationship saturated  grappling of our human experience; I love good films and what’s more important I love films that touch that Inner Gnaw and leave me like my muscles feel when I leave the gym, alive in the most profound way.

Here’s to the Good New Days.

The last normal person on Earth

lives in Urbandale, IA; he is always thirty four years old and goes to Supercuts to get a side parted trim every six weeks.  HIs girlfriend comes over three times a week and they eat pasta and a plate of cheese while discussing what they each did at work and then watch Two Weeks Notice  or some reasonable imitation. Neither knows what a macaroon is though will not admit it to the other; everything else, other than the macaroon, is normal.

I lived in Urbandale, IA for a year out of the two I lived in Des Moines. This was right after two years of grad school followed by a nervous breakdown, the worst two years of my life outside of ninth grade. Des Moines was very brown and beige; if a pair of Diehard pleated khakis went to school for architecture this is the city it would create.  The airport and the buildings were coated in every shade of brown rejected by autumn;   the two years in Des Moines got me back into theater and saved me from a self-apolcalyptic implosion of a plastic life built over a supernova.   Ferreting out tiny invisible fractures in the soul is hard when you have a life of subtle infractions; a palm reader once told me I was exhausted by the age of two and she really had nothing else to sell me so her motives were pure;  it rang true;  and the invisible fracture finally broke through like renegade  quarks in Iowa. I also lost my virginity in Iowa; virginity proper, proper Christian wholesome definition; this whole piece of my life is going on stage; it just popped in my noggin and I’ve been in my apartment all weekend recovering from an intestinal cleanse, a sexy romp with the bathroom and I am depleted this evening. I can’t hear colors. If I can’t hear colors, I’m out of it.

I did see Hugo this evening and my favorite parts were clips of ingenuity from the French filmmaker on whose works the film revolves. What a genius and what excitement that his wife was and actress and his muse and they went into business together and bought a glass house that became their studio.  When I have more energy I’m sure I’ll have latent gushings of longing and love for a life like that; I am a romantic; I am a realist; I am a filmmaker with a vision of creating a similar life; it reminds me that every project, for me, must be large and sense-engulfing and viscerally intelligent; I have begun my first novel, titled Point of Venus and I have picked it up and put it down which I’m finding very challenging with this medium because I forget what details have been revealed and I don’t want to repeat to contradict myself. I wish to honor my characters, especially Lona, the main ‘protagonist’ if you’re into storytelling jargon. I may start posting bits of it here.

Good night.  My left eye is already closing.

powering down to auxiliary the best a Scorpio can

I am in life contractions and they’ve abated for the moment;  I am about to leave town on Sunday for a week and anyone who lives in New York knows you have to leave the confines at least every two months for at least a couple of days and I haven’t done so in about eleven months so I have been running on magic fumes and second hand smoke for a while.  Now my body knows it’s about to bolt, and I am shutting down, leaving just basic life functions pumping; I am a walking hibernation and yet, under that is a casual maelstrom as one more winter of quiet preparation before a spring of creative launchings where I’ll need a whole case of champagne to break over bows.

It feels good to have taken command of Frenemies.  I have always struggled with the concept that I’m a control freak and that I have to be the Steinbrenner of all of my projects; I have tried to release some power and the mistake I keep making is releasing power versus delegation;  years ago, regarding Whorapy, which is NOT a play but a FULL CONTACT SENSUAL EVENT; it is set in a fictionalized brothel-speakeasy in 1920’s San Francisco and is written somewhat in verse but always in rhythm. And I know what it is and what it can become and how much effort is required to do it and how to shape that effort; and over the years I have had offers by others to take control of it or cast and have a reading and I somehow manage to keep it under wraps and go back and forth if I’ve kept a urgent garden from getting sunlight;  and I’ve been told writers shouldn’t direct their own work especially in theater;  well, I’ve been told a lot of things that make sense but in my physics seem stifling;  so now I begin to knead it to life again, piece by piece; when the music, when the words, the movement, the sensual velour of it starts to awaken, so do I and every cell of my being forgets regret and forgets ambition and nestles into a large gaping madness that looks like a smeared pond from the tops of the UN flagpoles.  I feel galvanized and then there is no quandary about separating life from art; I always say ten times the person means ten times the artist;  at this point I am directing my own work;  “Caesar is home, James Franco!” Ironic that that scene from the recent Apes film took place in the redwoods near San Francisco where Whorapy was born;

As for Frenemies in the last week I’ve created a poster which is simple and representative of the film itself and most certainly unique. Go to www.calendrome.com to see it.  I have sketched out a promo video based on a dream where I was shown a promo trailer of someone else’s movie and I was jealous; then I woke up and went, wait a minute, I’m jealous of me!  How fantastic!  That will be filmed next month.  Next is fundraising for this unique low budget ballad of love and spurs.  I am putting together a promotional package for investors/producers next week while at my folks house in Pennsylvania.   I’m damned excited actually.  I’m acting in it as Zach, the male Ferenemy; I have the camera; I have a great Kate cast, the female Frenemy;  it’s going to be fun when we get the fun(dies).

Regarding my home state of Pennsylvania, I have to say I am not too shocked about what’s happening at Penn State; I am disgusted and repulsed and angry, but not shocked. I’m adopted and laws in that state are circa 1795 when it comes to women’s rights and general openness regarding matters of the soul.  It’s certainly not the only state but after dealing with them over the years it’s right along the party lines archaic patriarchy.





Frenemies Mine

Anyone with an appreciation of 80’s sci fi movies will get the blog heading.  (Enemy Mine) Dennis Quaid as Dennis Quaid as an astronaut and Lou Gossett Jr as a self impregnating kind of scaly reptilian stuck together on a planet as mortal enemies and of course they make it work. It’s the ultimate interstellar bromance directed by Wolfgang Peterson.

Frenemies is the title of my full length feature.  Let me take you on a Willy Wonka journey of manifestation sans ‘The Secret’. No vision board needed.  A year ago it was a TV pilot and then I took this weekend filmmaking seminar with Dov Simmons, who is a human unfiltered cigarette; nothing is censored and most things smoke, but he inspired me to take my pilot and blow it out into a feature which is what I did last year around this time.  By about February I had it completed.  By March I bought a new ripping Apple MacPro that can direct air traffic for a regional metro airport and brush my dog, got the Final Cut X.  Then I bought a Canon 7D and had found a WEB developer to activate Calendrome Productions. All this happened over about three or four months.  By July I had the site up and running, looking professional and had started to film myself for my acting reel. It’s liberating when you don’t have to pay a complete stranger $500 to make a reel of something you’ll despise but won’t admit to yourself but somehow keep finding in your toilet.   I had started to shape an idea for an ad campaign for Kickstarter to raise money to shoot the whole thing, Cassevetes style for non-smokers.

Around July I went to a mixer for Brown Paper Tickets, an organization that helps you promote and organize yourself.  I met the owner and he told me they have someone on staff to help with getting organized with film production.  A couple of weeks later I touched base with Sita on their staff who specializes in film production;  we’ve formed a partnership really, talking on the phone back and forth for the last couple of months on the best way to move forward into bringing Frenemies off the vision board and onto film;  over the last couple of months we’ve cast the lead roles of Kate and Zach (I am Zach..keep in mind, I played Roger Sherman of Connecticut at Des Moines Dinner theater..”he reminded me of my dead husband” charmed one audience member who brought the median age down to 97 years), found a good DP, no easy feat, written and shaped a trailer and worked on a shooting sequence, set a shooting schedule, created a realistic budget and laid groundwork for the next several months.  Sita and I will continue to work together to make Frenemies the most spectacular anti-romantic romantic dark dramedy ever made.  And no gratuitous breast scenes except for my dog Moose and her eight nipples who will be playing the role of Crumbles, a demanding tour de force part for an older slightly rotund female canine. I’m excited because this is actually starting to happen.

The sequel will be called Frenemies Mine and I want to make the movie poster look like Enemy Mine so I can be green and bumpy. If I have to thumb wrestle or paintball Wolfgang Peterson to get his permission, I’m already in training.  Six hours a day.