I passed another milestone this month. Turned forty-two. Ever notice how similar "milestone" is to "gravestone?" I never picked up on that before. I guess as you get older you become more aware of things like that.
A lot has happened this year. For me, one big change was deciding to make a movie. I always used to think that I wanted to be a writer. I tried writing novels for a while, then some short stories, then a couple of plays. One time I actually had some poems published in the Connecticut River Review of Poetry. You may have seen them.
I tried songwriting for a while, wrote about fifty or sixty songs, made some demo tapes and sent them around. At one time I was playing three open-mikes a week and even had a few paid gigs here and there. Perhaps the pinnacle of my musical career was playing "Levi" in Joseph and His Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat for three weeks at the Stony Creek Puppethouse Theater. I sang, I danced, I played guitar and harmonica: I stole the show.
My greatest claim to fame, however came as a result of a challenge presented to me by my pal Beck Lee who dared me to enter a contest for the "Funniest Unemployed Person" at a comedy club in Manhattan. My resulting stand-up routine may not have won the contest, but it did catch the attention of a New York Times reporter, who described me as "ashen-faced" and "terror-struck." In addition to that glowing report, I was also featured in a piece by a CNN correspondent that ran repeatedly during that holiday weekend. Weren't Mom and Dad proud to see me on TV with the words "Unemployed Comic" emblazoned across the screen?
It was about that time that I read my first screenplay, "Thelma and Louise." My then roommate, Jon Sperry had left it lying around the apartment and I flipped through it, thinking "this looks easy -- I could do this!" And sure enough, a mere three and a half years later I'd already cranked out my first script. I kept at it with diligence, perseverance and deluded enthusiasm until I had churned out eight more scripts and whittled my writing time down to a phenomenal eight days! I knew it was time to move to Hollywood.
Coming out here was a turning point in my life. I had decided to dedicate myself to becoming a successful screenwriter. I took meetings, attended industry parties, made key contacts and learned how to schmooze. I followed the trades, logged onto screenwriter-oriented websites and started work on a new quirky-edgy-drama-comedy. But I still felt like I was on the outside looking in. How long would it take for these Bozos to notice me?
About a year ago I started thinking about what was holding me back. After making my way through the usual list of excuses (which is no small task) I finally came to the realization that I was holding myself back. I tried to imagine what I would be doing if I was doing what I really wanted. The answer I came up with was: making a movie.
Today I met with a guy who was temping in our office for a while. He's putting out his own CD that has a beautiful title song called "Ten Times." He saw my movie and asked me to help him make a video. We are going to begin shooting this weekend. It's not a major production by a long shot, but it's going to be pretty cool.
I guess passing "milestones" ain't so bad, it beats passing gallstones for one thing. Plus, as long as you keep moving forward there's always the possibility of encountering new stuff along the way. I don't know what I'll find between here and the next milestone. Could be something pretty cool.
Love, HWD
The past two weekends have featured significant steps in my journey (some might say descent) through Hollywood. As is often the case when on a mythical quest, sometimes you have to travel away from your goal in order to get closer. Consequently, I spent the last four days in Austin Texas at the Austin Film Festival Screenwriter's Conference. But more on that later.
Two weeks ago was the Hollywood premiere of my short movie, Dante's View. The event was held at the Pickford Theater, a thirty-five seat screening room on the lot of Raleigh Studios, the oldest active movie studio in the country. We had rented the theater for an hour and I had arranged to show the movie twice, just in case everyone that I invited actually showed up.
I arrived quite early and extremely nervous and was met at the door of the theater by a woman with a clipboard who was absolutely convinced that I was in the wrong place. Even though I was certain that she was mistaken (I had already been to the Pickford for a test-run a week earlier) her insistence was making me more nervous. Plus I was worried that she would prevent all of my guests from finding the right screening room. It turned out that she was there to greet the audience for a different screening (in the Charlie Chaplin theater) and she didn't even know there was a Pickford theater in the same building. I think she could tell how freaked-out I was getting because for the rest of the evening she acted as one of my "people" and helpfully guided my invitees to the proper venue.
The first show was mainly composed of the people who helped make the movie: Jon and Ivana, of course, Patti Troisi and her husband, Mike Kessler and his parents, Brian Nesin and his girlfriend Romy. There were also a couple of people from work and a few people I didn't know at all. About twenty in all. Not a bad showing, and enough to make the small room feel like it had a decent audience. I was in a hurry to get the show going, so we would have time to run it again and not keep the projectionist later than we had paid him for. It was impossible to enjoy the first show, I was worried about the sound, worried that people wouldn't "get" it, worried that no one else was coming, worried that no one would clap at the end. I was a bit of a mess. When it was over, nobody clapped -- until the final credit. Luckily the credits are only about a minute long, because I don't think I could have held my breath any longer. I think they really liked it. Everyone sure was nice about it.
When we opened the door and looked out into the lobby I was very pleased to see that the place was packed for the second show. A lot of people had gotten slowed up getting in due to the strict security measures employed by the studio. The second show was a lot more fun for me. The house was full, the sound was fine and there was this friend of Ivana's sitting across from me who laughed out loud in ALL the right places. Her laughter finally broke my tension and I loosened up and actually enjoyed myself. It's true, even if you only get through to one other person, that makes it all worthwhile. This time people clapped right away and almost everyone said something positive on the way out. It really felt like a success and was literally a dream come true.
We celebrated afterwards at the Formosa Cafe,
which some of you may know from the movie L.A. Confidential. It is a real piece of Hollywood history where the likes of Marilyn Monroe and Tony Curtis used to relax between takes of Some Like it Hot. More recently, the new Jim Carrey movie filmed a few scenes there and the afternoon before our party they did a Budweiser commercial using the same room we were in. The party was tremendous, we combined our screening celebration with Ivana's birthday party and the result was a whole lot of fun. There was a huge bouquet of red roses on one of the tables which I thought was for Ivana, and didn't realize till about midnight that they were in fact for me, a gift from my family -- along with a bottle of Drambuie. After a few drinks, people seemed to like the movie even more. Next time, I think I'll open the bar before the screening.
It was a great night and one I'm sure I'll remember for a long long time. The movie is officially ready to begin its own journey, starting with some hopeful submissions to various film festivals around the country. After all of the support, encouragement and just plain help I received in making the movie it felt really good to be able to share it and my excitement about it with so many friends.
While still on the high from the screening, I left early that next Thursday for Austin to attend the Film Festival. I wasn't sure what to expect, but I came prepared with business cards, Dante's View video, and copies of a couple of my scripts. The movie wasn't entered in the festival, but I brought it along just in case. Also I wanted to show it to David Hamburger and Bob Sweeney if possible. David, in particular, deserved a private screening since I ended up using some of his music in the opening sequence. I did enter two screenplays in the competition, and one of the made it to the second round, earning me the privilege of wearing a badge with "Second Rounder" written below my name. Supposedly this is considered something of an honor as several thousand scripts are submitted and only about ten per cent make it to the second round.
The real thrill of the conference, though, was meeting and talking with some screenwriters who are not only giants in the business, but personal heroes as well. Chris McQuarrie, who wrote one of the greatest scripts ever (The Usual Suspects) was amazing, smart, funny, very nice and so generous. I went to two of his seminars, both related to directing (he directed his second film, The Way of The Gun) and ate up everything he said. And if you ever want to hear some funny Benicio Del Toro stories, Chris is your man. Another major heavy, Shane Black (Lethal Weapon, Last Boy Scout, Long Kiss Goodbye) talked about creating heroes and villains, along with fellow legend Jeb Stuart (Die Hard, The Fugitive). I asked them, "What is evil?" and they both just stared at me for about 15 seconds while everyone in the room cracked up. But their very different answers told me a lot about how they approach their craft.
Lawrence Kasdan (Empire Strikes Back, Raiders of the Lost Ark, Big Chill, Body Heat, Silverado...) hosted a screening of one of my favorite westerns (Silverado) at a beautiful old theater in downtown Austin. Afterwards I ran into McQuarrie at the Driskill Hotel bar and asked him if he'd been at the screening. He stopped and looked heavenward and said "What a great fucking movie..." Hanging around with these guys, I actually felt like I belonged. It seemed like we spoke the same language and knew the same jokes. I've never been so close to actually feeling like a member of the club. I wish it could have gone on and on.
Fortunately, I also had a few opportunities to get together with Bob and Dave. In fact the very first night, I found myself listening to some live blues and gospel and drinking Shiner beer with Dave and some of his songwriting cronies and then hooking up with Bob at a very mellow cafe. On Saturday I had the pleasure of visiting Dave at home where he and his lovely and talented wife Catherine sat down for a private screening of Dante's View. We then went out to dinner at the same restaurant where they had their rehearsal dinner. Everyplace in Austin seems like the kind of place you'd have if you were going to start your own restaurant: relaxed, roomy, good music, good food and really cute waitresses.
On Sunday, I finally got to meet Bob's two sons, Thomas and Daniel. Talk about cute, these guys are definitive. And smart too, big surprise. We only had a short time together before my plane, but it sure made me want to come back for another visit and stay longer. And as a matter of fact, there's another film festival there in March that I am planning to send my movie to. I mean, heck who needs another excuse to go to Austin, but wouldn't it be cool if I could go there because my movie's being shown in the festival?
So if any of you know of any film festivals in your area, let me know and I'll apply. And if you have an empty couch in your living room, save me a spot -- I may be needing it.
I hope everyone is doing well.
Love, Hollywood Dick
For a couple of days this week I didn't think I would be able to write this month's newsletter. Why bother? What does it matter?
But then I started receiving emails from various people around the country, some just checking in, others expressing concerns & opinions. It felt good to know that so many people out there felt like I did and were able to share their feelings. I started to really appreciate the Internet as a tool for expression and communication that may help in the healing process. It isn't just for porn anymore!
My main concern at the beginning of the week was to get a copy of my movie in the mail by Friday to be placed in consideration for an upcoming film festival in New York. On Tuesday, it didn't seem all that important anymore. Then I talked to my sister, Susan, about a poetry reading she gave last week. She brought together a diverse group of people from her community and involved them in a truly positive creative experience. She even got some of them to sing. Many of those who attended thanked her afterwards and told her that she had inspired them to go out and be creative themselves. I realized that I had a responsibility to continue working on my movie, even moreso than before. A responsibility not only to myself but to my community. Creation in the face of destruction is as essential as breathing in after breathing out.
My cousin Blake has been working on the final "print" of the movie for the past two weeks, in between his other assignments. Blake is a colorist at a big post-production company here in Hollywood. He looks at a film or tape and runs it through some highly sophisticated color-enhancing equipment and adjusts things like tone and hue and tint and contrast and a whole spectrum of colors, making sure each scen is properly balanced and color-correct. I finally got to see what he had done with Dante's View late thursday night at the end of his shift. I was amazed. The changes Blake made went far beyond color balance and correction to include evocation of mood and enrichment of texture. He created an internal palette that gave the movie a cohesive color logic of its own. And he made my many mis-matched cuts look seamless. We made a VHS copy of the movie and I got it in the mail on Friday, just under the deadline. It was another example of discovering how much generosity and talent people have and being fortunate to tap into it.
I think there are tremendous resources within us all that have been untapped for too long. I think we are beginning to see some evidence of that in the response to Tuesday's nightmare. The human spirit has always thrived when confronted with adversity. There may be no greater test of that ability than the one we now face.
Perhaps the greatest challenge of all will be our attempt to reach understanding with people we now perceive as evil. If we are to meet that challenge, it will require every inner resource we have. But most of all, it will require creativity. The world is what we make it and it is time for us to make it new. Every act of creation is a step in the right direction.
I was listening to Stevie Wonder the other day and I heard something that I felt I needed to share with everyone I knew. Here's what Stevie said:
"They say that Heaven is ten zillion light years away,But if there is a God, we need Him now'Where is your God?' That's what my friends ask meAnd I say it's taken Him so long'Cause we've got so far to come
But in my heart I can feel itFeel His spirit...
If you open your heart you can feel it..."
I hope everyone can feel it.
Love, Rich
p.s. To those of you in New York, my thoughts have been with you all week. If you get the chance, I'd love to here how you're doing.
