Writer on the Edge

You're Broke...

Start writing. It's still the cheapest craft in town, keeps you at home or in a coffee shop, and allows you a private soap box to vent your rage at the injustice that is blooming all around you.

September 23, 2008 2:46 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | Add Comment

Fighting Words

Okay, I'm now going to make a conscious effort to blog more often. In order to do this they're going to be short, opinionated, and sometimes nasty. I invite anyone and everyone to join in, comment, and hate me if you want to. And just to note, I will try and relate all of it, even today's politics, to writing.

Let's begin.

You are a bad screenwriter and you privately know it. You don't read enough...of anything. You didn't pay attention in English class. You think most movies are bad and could have done a better job yourself. Your screenplay's structure resembles the lack of any in your life. Your dialogue rivals that of soft-core porn. You invest more time pondering why the middle hole of your script doesn't require a fastener than fixing the hole in the middle of your second act.

How are you going to fix this?

September 4, 2008 3:42 PM | Permalink | Comments (1) | Add Comment

Slap Shot

Well, I was asked to do a review of my favorite sports movie of all time. It was supposed to go out in a news letter, but unfortunatly it was considered a little too much, as am I much of the time. So, I decided to post it here for all of you unwashed masses. Enjoy, or be offended. And remember, the word "Art" means to irritate.

REVIEW FOR SLAP SHOT

As a guy who considers SportsCenter his major source of world news, choosing a favorite sports movie is a daunting task. Many great titles come to mind: Brian’s Song, The Longest Yard (the one with Burt, not Adam), North Dallas Forty (awesome), Hoosiers, and even Jerry Maguire. The list is endless, really.

But there is one that stands out in this Canadian boy’s mind. It’s Slap Shot. Yes, a movie about hockey - something that few Americans outside of the Northeast have embraced - and when they have, name their teams after ducks, mighty ones at that. Yes, a hockey movie that isn’t about that one time the Americans beat the Russians in Lake Placid. Granted, Miracle was a good movie. It’s just not Slap Shot.

When one looks at Slap Shot as a film, it has everything a sports lover could ask for. First, let’s summarize its plot for those who don’t know. The Charlestown Chiefs are a failing American minor league team in the seventies that finds success through on-ice thuggery and violence. Do I need to go on?

Okay, it stars Paul Newman, the greatest actor ever. Put on some skates and let’s dance if you think otherwise. Did I mention it has lots of fighting? Newman even wears a full-length fur coat and carries it off like a dad who could beat up your dad. And it’s directed by George Roy Hill, acclaimed director of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. (There’s an awesome movie, too.)

It also has sex. Exposed breasts. Card playing. Beer drinking. Hell, it even has lesbians! Hockey and lesbians. Can you say peanut butter and jelly?

And did I mention it has lots of fighting? It has the Hanson Brothers, triplet goons with the mental faculties of small children who play hockey with their fists. It has Dave “Killer” Carlson. Who doesn’t like a sports movie with someone named “Killer“? Pansies, that’s who, so don’t be one.

Not sold yet? The film also ends with a classic striptease on ice. There, that should be enough of a hook. Rent it. Buy it. Love it. I do.

March 6, 2008 7:59 AM | Permalink | Comments (2) | Add Comment

Unhappy Endings

For some of you who have read my previous blogs, you'll know that I've had some ups and downs lately. One of those down points was taking time to reconsider my lastest personal relationship. Unfortunatley, there will be no time left to consider. Rhiannon Meier, my friend and first LA love passed away on December 8, 2007. She was killed by a drunk driver.

Here is what I spoke at her memorial.

I was fortunate enough to have known Rhiannon for the greater part of this past year. Like everyone who met her, I was instantly seduced by her smile and magnetic energy. And like everyone, I yearned for more. As a wide-eyed Canadian boy chasing ridiculous dreams I saw Rhiannon as a Hollywood princess but at the end of the day it was the girl from Lawrence, Kansas who I fell in love with.

She would often ask me why I liked her, and I said simply because she reminded me of sunshine.

Her love for her family and friends and her desire to give them her time was only rivaled by an incredible work ethic that drove her to be the best at her profession. That said, she was truly the most exhausting girlfriend I’ve ever had, and I thanked her for that.

She would wake me at 7am on her days off to go run the beaches of Venice and Santa Monica and I’d do it just for the reward of getting to sit across from that smile and share a latte with her when it was over.

I often joked with her that her favorite words were “want” and “now.” Perhaps she more than many understood the value of time and how to get the most out of it. Rhiannon fit into 28 years what most fit into a lifetime. It all seems to make sense to me now. Looking around this room I now know more than ever how blessed I was to have her create a place for me in her world.

The time I spent with Rhiannon taught me so much about how to love, and now she’s teaching me about loss. But Rhiannon will never leave me – she is the most beautiful scar I will ever bear.

In a town that forces us to use our imagination every day, a jolt of reality often forces us to reconsider how we live our lives. In Rhiannon’s memory, let’s try to be good to each other and treat one another with love and respect. Because in this real world, no one gets a chance to write “the end.”

We will miss you, Rhiannon.

December 28, 2007 7:53 AM | Permalink | Comments (1) | Add Comment

Sold!

It's has been a long time since I've written to all of my fellow artists, and I apologize. Life has been a rollercoaster the last couple of months, with my mood being tampered with from all directions. Everything between a break-up and a script sale has caused me to feel anything but moderate in my state of mind.

Let me begin with the good news. My writing partner and I sold our horror film "Hurt" to the makers of Halloween, on Halloween, four hours prior to the WGA strike deadline. We signed our contracts and faxed them from the Sunset Blvd Staples. Now, if that isn't a Hollywood story, I don't know what is.

We spent the previous two days on the roof of my building drinking Buds and pacing in nervous anticipation as our managers and lawyer went back and forth with producers trying to hammer out a deal. Though this may sound exciting, it was more of a twisted sort of torture. Having had come close to things before and being lied to endlessly, I really felt this could have been another fluffing. But it finally happened.

I called my mother and actually cried. I cried because I was emotionally spent. Not just from the few days prior, but because of the few years prior. Hollywood does not make anything easy. For those of you who think it is a simple phone call that tells you you've won the lottery, you're wrong. It tempers you, slowly. I now understand why the walls are built so high. You have to really want this. You have to want to get better at it.

I can't tell you how many times I just wanted to pack it in. But if you want to scale that wall, and peer over the other side, the producers will finally take notice. It's really quite Darwinian. I should have been really excited, but they've broken me. And what was the first thing I wanted to do? Get back to writing. Okay, maybe I had me a wee glass of champagne.

As for the bad news, well, I'll keep that to a minimum. Relationships are difficult at best. I've tried real hard to make a life for myself out here while I pursue my dreams. I finally decided to pick one girl and it didn't pan out. Hollywood can also tamper with the best of relationships.

As for other crappy news, I'll Blog on the strike next week after I've spent some time on the picket lines.

Best,
Anthony

November 14, 2007 7:10 AM | Permalink | Comments (5) | Add Comment

McMovies

Yes! Congratulations to Brett Ratner, Hollywood's newest billion dollar fauxteur director! Celebrated by every ass kissing rag in the industry today. Because in the end, it's all about money, kids. Write something that will fit into the perfect marketing package. Welcome to the era of McMovies. Over ONE BILLION served. I think I have to puke. But first I've got to get back to writing my Happy Meal.

July 30, 2007 11:08 AM | Permalink | Comments (3) | Add Comment

STUPID & UGLY

STUPID & UGLY

Hello my fellow artists and posers. It has been a long time, hasn’t it? Yes, I have been busy managing a move-in with my girlfriend, the completion of a new screenplay, a visit from my mother, and like most of you, trying to pay endless bills for services that are always below standard. Now, many of you may wonder what I might rant about this time around. The truth is, I’m actually trying to cut back on that -- but only a little bit.

Today I’m going to talk about how much crap and drivel is being handed to us as far as today’s pop culture goes. Now, many of you will disagree with me, but you’re wrong. This summer has heaved upon us a pile so high, I can’t see the brown for the stink. Spidermen, Pirates, Shreks, Transformers, Die Hards… all crap. We are a nation of sheep. We are ugly and stupid and this is the mirror that is being held up to us. The studios know it and laugh. We are suckers. We are a nation that has begun to rot from the head down. And Hollywood celebrates these men who deliver us this serving of cinematic bile. What great writers! What great directors! Hell, they should be celebrating the ticket buyer who shows up in a coma at his or her local theater. Oh, I understand, they just need to escape. Shut up! Demand more, damnit.

What I’d like to know is when we allowed the boys who never got to kiss the prettiest girl in school to take over this town? Where are the men? Or the women for that matter? Yeah, where is the heart in these pictures -- the emotion? What happened to the Easy Riders and Raging Bulls? Where are the auteurs who want to tell stories instead of comic-book fantasy? What the hell is going to happen to us when Clint, Marty, and Francis die? Yes, we are left with the uber talented Brett Ratners and the ridiculously shocking Judd Apatows of the world. Now, "Knocked-Up" -- there’s a script that would have died on page 12 with me. Yes, that’s when my Katherine Heigl character would have had the abortion in order to stop giving birth to the stupid and the ugly.

And that, my friends, is true wish fulfillment.

July 24, 2007 8:08 PM | Permalink | Comments (2) | Add Comment

OB-LA-DI, OB-LA-DA

Since my last blog, Lindsey has crashed her car full of coke, Paris has been to jail - twice, and I have moved on. Yes, I too lead an exciting life filled with Hollywood angst. Like the song goes, “It never rains in California, it pours… man it pours.”

For those of you who have been keeping track, I am sick and tired, and I’m not going to take it anymore! Do not let anyone tell you we are in the business of creating art. We create commerce. Oh I try to hold tight to the craft. I try so hard. I love staying up late and tweaking a sentence until it’s perfect. I love those moments when a connection appears out of thin air. Yes, from nothing comes something. And damnit, all these charlatans who come here with their silver and gold to chase nimble and dumb Hollywood starlets had better pay up. I am ready to fight. Put up your manicured fists. Chumps. Men I used to torment in schoolyards. I will open old wounds. We must fight against these imposters who come with their father’s money and their purchased Ivy League diplomas! Powerful agents and managers who sit in cubicles the size of my toilet expounding virtues from one side of their mouths while drooling lies from the other. Producers who eat Ramen Noodles behind closed doors so they can make the monthly lease on their German engineered vehicles. Beware the man behind the curtain, fair Dorothy! He is not what he appears to be. He is a sheep in lions clothing. Don’t be afraid of Hollywood, my friends. For once you scrape beneath the tinsel, you will only find more tinsel.

I have decided to bury my latest script due to the greed of amateur men. I have taken away what they prized most – the words that might have opened the door to their paper thrones. And what have I gained from all this, you may ask?

Always ask for as much money as you can and invest in property.

As John and Paul would say, “Let’s go write ourselves a swimming pool.” Artists.
Love ‘em.

June 11, 2007 8:39 PM | Permalink | Comments (2) | Add Comment

Taking Back the Art

This was my reply to the email I posted last week. Please excuse the delay. I've been moving, as some of you may already know.

Hey Producer,

Things have finally settled down. Jeff, John Doe and I now each live on our own after a hectic week of moving. This probably allows for a better perspective on things. "Hurt" has now become something that both Jeff and I have decided to move on from. The developments over the past couple of months have cost me my management, creative well-being, and up heaved my living situation, not to mention the three months of rewrites that never got to see the light of day. Everybody can argue their side. There will be no more of that. If nothing at all, this experience has shown me how ugly all sides of this industry are. It's time for me to go back to trying to become an artist. All I want from managers, agents, or producers is the best compensation for something they cannot do, or do not want to do themselves. Right now, if we can't use it to show around, or get new representation, we want to be redressed accordingly and in good faith - if you really want to still move forward with it.

Jeff has a free night on Wednesday. That is also good for me. How about you?

A.

June 2, 2007 11:12 AM | Permalink | Comments (2) | Add Comment

Can't We All Just Get Along?

I'd like to share a letter from the producer who wants to option our script. If you read the previous blog, you'll have a little background into this. I changed the names to protect the quilty. My name and Jeff's(writing partner) didn't change. The spelling and grammar is as was. Enjoy.

Anthony and Jeff

So this will be my attempt at a reconciliation e-mail. I am sure you both felt very and may still feel cheated, upset, and very pissed that your script did not go out the way you wanted it to. I assure you that I felt all these emotions the past months. When you work hard on something and put time and energy into it and it doesn't work, it sucks. I realize that you guys have spent years on this and that doesn't compare to myself, John and Doe's involvement. But I think you now realize that you can't work with people and then expect them to disappear when something that is perceived to be better comes along. Getting a movie made in this town is almost like winning the lotto. It is that hard. It is that hard to get hired to write and to have a spec script bought. I think you will find that everything I have said to you guys as been truthful. I have treated you with respect up to the whole melt down and I am willing to start again now. Please realize the situation you put me in I had little choice but to be a hollywood hard ass. Now I am willing to move on if you are. I still want to make this movie. We still have the casting people interested. We still have private investor interested. And we still have the ability to get this script covered at every major agency and put it in very big hands. I know you may not trust or believe me but I make films. Agents, mangers and most people in this town talk, unless you are already established. I hope you are able to put this behind you and we can move on with this great project. I would like to sit down with everybody and open dialogue again and move forward the correct way and make this movie.

Let me know. Producer A

May 22, 2007 5:51 PM | Permalink | Comments (2) | Add Comment