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November 30, 2003
Best pick-up line I've ever gotten.
"You. Me. Eternity. For ever and ever. Whadda you think?"
Naturally, delivered by a guy. Kinda cute as guys go, and taller than me.
I briefly wished it could be so, but the plumbin' don't play dat.
Posted by LYT at 2:42 AM | Comments (0)
November 29, 2003
Proud of Myself
Not that I'm not always. But today I found some hot, new, hard-to-find Star Wars figures. I grabbed them off the rack impulsively, looked at them, then put them back.
I thought, "Do I really love these, like the way I dig the new Hellraiser and Spawn toys?"
Answer: No.
It may be time to clean house. Now, if I can just break my other toy addictions, we'll be in business.
More on LYT on camera
Kevin Ford discusses Lovindapocalypse III, Lost in the Bush, and Rainbowhead HERE.
BOO!
Only in America, it seems, do the nutball Christians get their panties in a bunch about the depiction of ghosts in movies. Ireland, for instance, is an extremely Christian nation, yet the church there never gets all pissed off about Halloween, or worries that movies about ghosts will somehow turn their children into witches.
Disneyland has had a ride called The Haunted Mansion for several decades now. No-one who rode it as a kid has, to my knowledge, gone on to become a genuine necromancer. But to hear the religious right go on about it, the new movie based on the ride is going to destroy our youth (note: the movie even explicitly mentions Heaven, Hell, and Purgatory, and sends good and bad spirits to the appropriate places. Isn't that enough of a bone?).
Here's one such paranoid review
["evil ghost dragged to Hell by fiery dragon while all other ghosts (good and bad) allowed to go to Heaven (even ghost who jokingly curses)"]
and
["Well? Do you believe in ghosts? I do. One ghost anyway. The Holy Ghost."]
Posted by LYT at 2:40 AM | Comments (0)
November 27, 2003
Giving Thanks
It's good to have a holiday that makes you do this once a year, and it's one of the great things about the USA. Hard to imagine England having a holiday of thanks, for instance; a holiday spent complaining about the bloody weather seems more likely.
Consider the days we set of fireworks. Americans set them off to commemorate winning our country's freedom. English use them to blow up a scarecrow, commemorating the failure of a small group of rebels to blow up the government.
But I don't mean to bash that side of myself. I'm thankful for that too (besides, we English excel at bashing ourselves, more so than any other nation. Yay!).
Anyway, this year my gratitude goes out to the following:
Political
-I'm thankful there's been no repeat of 9-11, and that the media is finally beginning to see through our incompetent commander-in-thief. (props to the prez, though, for joining the troops in Iraq for Thanksgiving. Even if it was a photo op, I'll bet they appreciated it).
-I'm thankful for the success of Michael Moore, whether or not he gets his facts right, because at least he's trying. (Although his post for today is a major bummer. Geez, Mike, we know you love to eat, can't you focus on the joy for once?)
- ditto Tom Tomorrow
Entertainment
- I'm thankful for the Matrix trilogy, whether or not anyone else "gets it."
- I'm thankful for the Brock Lesnar vs. Kurt Angle ironman match that aired live on Smackdown. These guys are the best in the business.
- I'm thankful that people like Neil LaBute are still allowed to make movies.
- I'm thankful to Aint It Cool News, Dark Horizons, and Bloody Disgusting for upping my traffic exponentially, thereby spreading the insidious message of LYT to the world.
- Most of all, I'm thankful to my friend Lucky McKee for giving me the most amazing opportunities this year, when he could very easily have been too busy to do so.
Personal
- I'm very thankful to all my friends, especially (but not limited to) those on my links page.
- I'm thankful to everyone I met in Montreal for making me feel so welcome, and one in particular. Miss y'all.
- For my two baby brothers, words are not sufficient. For the rest of my family: you guys have really been there for me this year, and I thank you.
- For my journalism colleagues, especially the ones who have written about me or linked me in your blogs, I am honored and thankful. Special props always to Mike Lacey, Rick Barrs, and Suzanne Mantell, for hiring me in the first place.
- To Kevin Ford and Greg Hatanaka, who respected my acting ability enough to put me in their films...Thank you, many times over.
- to God, whatever it might be: Thanks for existence.
- to the women who made me feel attractive again: you probably have no idea how much I thank you.
We've all come through a lot of hardship this past year -- I'm certainly not thankful for the death of our dear departed Marnye or my North Carolina bud Josh Seay, but I am extremely thankful that I got to know these two kind souls, and was able to share some of their brief time in this world.
and lastly, thanks to all who indulge my ramblings like this. Buy some shirts while you're here.
"It's turkey time"
"Huh?
"Gobble gobble!"
-Gigli
Posted by LYT at 2:39 AM | Comments (0)
November 25, 2003
Sore spot
My arms feel like I gave them a thorough workout lately. I just can't remember any such thing. Saturday I got up early to see an a.m. screening of Haunted Mansion, took a brief nap midday, and went to wrestling at Staples in the evening with my buddy Paul. Was it the clapping and pumping of fist in air that did it?
Bought a T-shirt at Staples that has the U.S. flag emblazoned with the words "You Suck" on it. I love that the shirt blatantly spells out our government's attitude toward other countries.
The back of the shirt implies that the phrase is aimed at terrorists, then names a few. I wonder if "You Suck" is obscene enough to get a rise out of my namesake Mr. Ford? Will have to test this at some future cocktail party.
Oh yeah...Brock Lesnar beat the bejeezus out of John Cena in the main event. Brock is still the man.
I felt like I had a cold briefly, but after taking some vitamin C, echinacea, and my new miracle cure kimchee, I felt better. Had to write the Haunted Mansion review the next morning. None of this should have tired me so. I bleached my hair again, which always makes me feel dehydrated.
With the renewed drive I have to screenwrite again, I've been trying to locate Final Draft to install on my faster computer. Can't find it -- all I could dig up is my ancient Mac version. This has spurred me to clean house a bit, but that's a massive job. And I think it's my VCR that's broken -- even the dry tapes won't play in it any more. This gives me some mild hope that maybe the once-wet tapes will play in a new VCR, but who knows.
Saw 21 Grams tonight -- liked the first half, then it turned into one of those actorly movies where everyone gets a big crying scene in an attempt to win awards. Movies about grief mostly suck because the actors get indulgent this way.
People I was having major friction with last week have made peace. Paint in apartment is dry. Think I deserve to sleep for a week or so after all that. Jaye's been a real trooper helping me through it all. I feel like the Montreal trip has brought she and I and Ed back together in a way that hasn't been there since college. We've always been friends, but back in the day we were like family, along with the rest of the 1321 crew. It feels like that spirit is returning, only we've all grown much more formidable as creative and dynamic forces.
And that's good news for those of you who like edgy entertainment, believe me.
Posted by LYT at 2:38 AM | Comments (0)
November 24, 2003
Uncool Cat
My take on the Cat in the Hat movie: It might have been really good if Mike Myers weren't in it.
Pay attention, now, because what I'm about to say is probably something you'll never hear said again:
Tim Allen would have been better in the role.
And yes, before you ask, I DID see Joe Somebody.
CGI Cat would have been the only way to go. And certainly without Myers' voice.
Because I know you all love the ladies...
Jaye posted THIS PICTURE over at her site -- I think it may be the best photo I've ever taken. It was taken the night THE WOODS wrapped, at a Montreal bar called The Reservoir.
That's Jaye in the middle, star Agnes Bruckner on the right, and costar Lauren Birkell on the left. A lady for every taste, methinks.
Christmas is all around us
If you've seen the movie Love Actually, the headline surely gives away that I have too. It shouldn't be too surprising that I liked it -- English movies around holiday time remind me of my family, after all. And Bill Nighy as the aging rock star with a moronic Christmas single (the English are fond of such songs, believe me -- About a Boy backs this up) is excellent.
The surprise, to me, is that I didn't come out of it bitter, as I often do with romantic comedies, grumbling that it'll never happen to me. Though most characters hook up by movie's end, there's one significant one who doesn't -- a guy who pines for his best friend's wife. In the past, this is the character I would have most identified with.
That has changed, thanks to more than one meaningful event this year. I owe some people some great thanks, but not by name here. Point is, I no longer feel that the happy ending is out of reach.
Tattoo You
I wrote this on another message board, but I feel like sharing it here too:
"I don't think tattoos are a "fad" -- the very nature of their permanence assures us that they won't be!
Most kids love the idea of tattoos, but the social unacceptability sets in at a later age. What we're starting to see is that social unacceptability fall apart. I believe it's in our nature to customize and individualize, even if that "individuality" sometimes consists only of choosing one mass-marketed image over another.
Me, I won't do copyrighted or mass-produced stuff on my body (unless it's something I created that caught on). But I have one tat (my middle name in Cherokee), and I will get more. Also I'm over 25 (but not by much)"
Dudes, king him
In case you missed it on the message board, you can check out the musical stylings of my genius webmaster HERE
Posted by LYT at 2:35 AM | Comments (0)
November 20, 2003
Oscar Bait...& Switch
For weeks, I've been telling anyone who cared to listen that House of Sand and Fog would likely get Best Picture this year. I hadn't seen it, but it's Dreamworks' only Oscar contender, it stars Ben Kingsley, and involves discrimination against Muslims.
I saw the movie tonight. I think it'll be a contender, but it doesn't deserve to win, which of course don't mean shit. From the opening scenes, it self-consciously screams "Important Movie!" It wants to be this year's In the Bedroom, which makes sense, since I think they're both based on stories by the same writer [correction: House of Sand and Fog is by the son of the guy who wrote In the Bedroom. Still makes sense.]. In keeping with this year's overriding theme of fear and despair (more on that next month, in print), it's one of those movies where something bad happens and then things just keep getting worse. It's also a movie where every actor gets a crying scene to show how good they are at their craft.
Premise: Jennifer Connolly's a recovering drunk who, having ignored a bunch of warning letters, gets her house repossessed due to a clerical error. Ben Kingsley is a stereotypical stoic patriarchal foreigner (Iranian, or Persian if you prefer), who works multiple shitty jobs, but sees in the house an opportunity to buy cheap and sell high, making a tidy profit that'll allow him to quit his menial labors.
Then there's Ron Eldard as a deputy who falls for Jennifer, while abandoning his wife and kids. His involvement becomes dangerously unprofessional. Most everything that happens next is entirely predictable.
Weirdly, for no apparent reason, this is a "period" film set sometime last decade, but the only indicators of such are Mountain Dew bottles with old logos, and a poster advertising Super Nintendo alongside a Mac Classic computer in Kingsley's son's room. Dunno why these details are there -- the plot doesn't hinge on anything specific to the '90s.
Jenny looks like she's had a boob job. Yes, she gets (artfully) naked, and I got to give her props for doing a bathtub scene au naturel when she could easily have worn pasties. Actually, she looks really good in this, better than she did at the Oscars two years ago.
A movie I think should win Oscars is Master and Commander, for one simple reason: I watch that movie and think "I could not do this." I can make movies, and I feel sure I could direct your standard feature film. But short of taking actual ships out to war, I have no idea how the fuck you make a movie like this. And it never condescends -- doesn't even bother to explain the nautical lingo. Peter Weir just throws you in, and lets you acclimate. Even if you don't like it, man, it's a feat they pulled off.
It's f--k wit' LYT day...and everybody's celebratin'
I have had my ass kicked in the past seven days. The pipe leak, destroying so much of my property. The three days of having to strip my walls bare and have my living room covered in plastic. And, oh yeah, people I really care about getting really mad at me for reasons I can barely comprehend. It's exhausting.
I've come to realize that some people hate being mentioned on this site even if it's in the most flattering tone I can muster. As a shameless self promoter, this has taken me by surprise. I apologize to all who feel wronged by me.
It is thus with much trepidation that I stipulate the following:
Chuck Francis is the rocking-est mechanic ever!
I've known Chuck since New Times food critic Meredith Brody recommended him to me. He's remembered me since my first visit. Chuck's shop is on Fairfax, opposite CBS studios, and he's been mechanic to the CBS stars for many years. He's always given me a fair shake, and the bowl of Jolly Ranchers is a nice touch.
The other day, driving to Del Taco, I came out of a dip too fast. Banged the bottom of my car. Immediately thereafter I saw a green fluid dripping. I took the car home, placed an LA Weekly under the leak. Next day, the Weekly was gone.
Brought the car to Chuck, who said he didn't have room, but nonetheless took time out to give it a quick look. He saw the dust shield underneath was cracked, but said it's an inessential part anyhow. Couldn't see a coolant leak. Checked the coolant -- full. His conclusion? the bump made it overflow temporarily.
I ask Chuck if I owe him anything for his time. His response? "You got lucky this time, son."
No guarantee he'll say the same to you, of course. But I can't imagine he'd ever give you a bad deal. Chuck rocks!
Posted by LYT at 2:33 AM | Comments (0)
November 17, 2003
FINAL SET REPORT FROM "THE WOODS"; TWO NEW EXCLUSIVE SET IMAGES
I’m well and truly back into my slightly more humdrum life. Looking back on the good times that I just went through. Piecing things together for the benefit of my readership, which has multiplied exponentially since I first went to Montreal. Don’t wanna lose you new guys.
Jaye wrote about the wrap party and the pre-wrap party quite nicely on her blog, and I don’t know that I have much more to add (Cory and Jasper. ‘nuff said. She explains). The wrap party happened to be just around the corner from the youth hostel where I was staying, so, as usual, I was the first to arrive. The food was mostly springrolls, nouveau nachos, and sushi bits (“little squishy fishies,” quoth Mike McKee, who loves seafood so long as it’s cooked). Later, at the height of the party, a big plate of sashimi was set up at the bar, but only those who braved the bar crowd ever found out about it. Fortunately, I was one such sole, er, soul. Music was mainly ‘80s, which would seem perhaps a bit retro for the 18-early 20something ladies in the cast, but for Lucky, Jaye, and I it was perfecto.
Jaye thought the young skinny male waiters were hot. I’m starting to think she thinks everyone is hot, and told her so.
Montreal versus L.A. – in L.A., the cutoff point for alcohol sales is 2 a.m. Most bars start kicking you out at 1:45 or sooner. In Montreal, cutoff is 3 a.m., and that’s when they cut you off. After 3, you aren’t rushed out – they let you finish your damn drink. This is civilization.
I was one of the last to leave, but not with Jaye and the McKees. Normally, that would have been the plan…let’s just say there are very few circumstances that could supercede such a thing. I’m sworn to secrecy on any specifics, but I got back to the hostel around 6 a.m., with alarm set for 10, because check-out time was 11. I slept in my clothes, knowing they’d be too uncomfortable to allow me to oversleep.
Went to the airport via bus. Had nachos and a margarita in the terminal, and slept most of both flights home.
Various things I learned while on set:
Contrary to what I thought given the context I heard it in, “Ca tourne!” does not mean “Shut the fuck up!” It means “Rolling.”
Many buildings in Montreal have outdoor staircases leading directly to a front door on the second or third level. I imagine this is a consequence of deep snowdrifts.
All tall people with facial hair look exactly the same, so much so that people can be convinced they sound the same too. Hence a widespread assumption that I was Lucky’s brother. Gives me an idea for a screenplay though…
Lucky liked to lapse into the lingo of Tim Meadows’ “Ladies Man” character, so much so that he was given an engraved “Ladies Man” cigarette lighter for his birthday by the producers. The thing is, unlike Tim Meadows, Lucky is actually funny when he talks that way.
“Lunch” does not mean “the meal in the middle of the day.” It means “The meal we have six hours after call time, whenever that may be.” Due to union rules about turnaround periods, call times are ever changing. It might be 6 a.m. one day, 9 a.m. the next, getting later and later all week, until the day off comes and you reset to 6 a.m. Rough sched to get used to, though I found, unsurprisingly to myself, that I could handle less hours of sleep so long as I got up later in the day. I’m very sensitive to caffeine usually, but I had a ton on set and it made no difference. Coupla beers in Leonetti’s truck at day’s end, and I’d be ready for bed.
Lunch is in a cafeteria, but there’s also a catering truck and a catering table on call all day. The first day, I assumed that was it and didn’t leave any room for the real lunch. Though the food was first rate (and yes mother, I did eat my fruit and vegetables), I miss Benji’s famous june-bug fritters from the set of May.
It’s easy to lose track of time working on a soundstage. Like a casino, or 24-hour Wal-Mart, it’s always the same lighting. Many’s the time I walked outside to find it night, thinking it was day.
And speaking of walking out, here’s an example of skewed human priorities. Video playback lady Julie would occasionally take breaks to see her dog out in the car, yet she said that this was somehow looked on by many as less acceptable than a smoke break. Hmm, pets or lung pollution? Both things I avoid in women, so it’s hard to make a judgment.
Kathleen Mackey, the scary ghost girl in Gothika, is also in The Woods. After meeting her, the Gothika trailer lost all sense of fear for me, as I would think, “Aww, Kathleen looks so cold in that rain!” Then I saw her do a scene with Agnes that creeped me the hell out. Also I just saw Gothika, and in the movie itself she is indeed scary. In her civilian clothes, however, she does NOT look like a little girl.
Something I should have done sooner: hang out with the female extras, all of whom were wearing PJs all day (slumber party!). Exiled mostly to the cafeteria, they passed the time watching Friends and Sex and the City. I recommend watching the latter show with a bunch of women, just to see what they react to, and how, as well as the conversations and personal anecdotes it provokes. That’s more fun than the show. All lovely ladies, and off the top of my head I’d like to thank Sarah, Melissa, Jennifer, Megan, Taryn and whoever else I’m forgetting for allowing me into their circle for the last coupla days.
My youth hostel forbade drinking or smoking, so I had to smuggle in booze. Kept a li’l bottle of jack in my coat pocket 24-7. First one got finished; the second not until I got home and saw the burst pipe. Then it went in a hurry.
That exhausts most of my specific memories, but if anyone has any questions I’ll try to answer. I will NOT answer specific questions about THE WOODS plot details or reveal anything about any individual that you wouldn’t politely ask a complete stranger, so don’t ask. But anything about the general experience, feel free. The visual effects, by the way, look great even in the testing stage, but I can’t tell you exactly what digital stuff I saw. Use your imagination.
Though production has wrapped, I should have more images and tidbits between now and next August, so stay tuned. Here are your images for today:
This one's taken right after the final shot of the film, when the crew guys in the rafters decided to dump boxes of leaves on everyone down below:
And this one speaks for itself:
Blame Canada...
...for spoiling me and getting me to believe people are nice again. People here are not.
Saturday night I felt the need for sushi, and figured I should try the place at the big Hollywood and Highland complex, called Koji. I go in, it's reasonably full, but many empty single seats lined against the wall, bar style. I ask for seating for one. The maitre d, a lisping queen with elaborately coiffed blonde hair right out of central casting, says, "OK, that'll be a 15-minute wait."
I point out the bar seating, maybe half unused. "Thothe theats are not available."
I ask to look at the menu, savor what I'll be missing, and walk out. End up at a sushi place in a strip mall next to a Ross and 7-11. Chef is a Japnese guy in karate outfit, hand searing albacore with a butane torch. He's also really getting into an episode of Wheel of Fortune. I like him. No beer there, sadly, but the service and desire to please was top-notch. They told me next time I come, they'll make me a special off-the-menu roll.
Went to the video store next door to rent Blue Car (Agnes Bruckner's last big movie). On the shelf almost right next to it was my very own commentary disc, Black Belt Jones 2. Unfortunately the store didn't have Slashers, a movie featuring another fine actress from The Woods, but I went out and found that at Virgin.
Final set report will be posted later today. Until then, be good to each other.
Posted by LYT at 2:30 AM | Comments (0)
November 14, 2003
MGM gets me drunk again
I've written a final set report and it's pending approval and an image. In the meantime, I had more fun on MGM's dime, going to the big annual party at chief exec Chris McGurk's house. This was the party of the year 12 months ago (I met Jeff Goldblum and Michael Moore there), and didn't disappoint this year, though MGM's slate of movies hasn't been as strong (thankfully, as far as I could tell, kiddie-raper Victor Salva was not in attendance. Good thing too, because Frankie Muniz and Macaulay Culkin were).
Chris McGurk has one extremely extravagant backyard. We were told to dress warmly and expect a light dinner. Here's how light:
gourmet hot dogs, multiple varieties;
veggies and dip plates, huge;
seared rare tuna;
roasted parsnips
stirfry, with add-your-own ingredients bar;
California pizzas, three varieties;
caramel apple bar with multiple toppings;
and more, all in mass quantities. Plus several open bars. Many heat lamps, too. I dressed too warmly. Guess I was still thinking Montreal.
Oliver Platt was the first celeb I noticed. Taller than I expected.
Patricia Clarkson was the next one. There was a vague spark of recognition, so I yelled out, "Miss Traverse!" (her character in THE WOODS), to which she responded, "Oh my God!" I was impressed she recognized me. We talked very briefly, mostly about our mutual acquaintance Mr. McKee. I was wearing my WOODS crew cap, hoping to impress people, which it didn't. My Danzig shirt impressed some people though, some of whom found it shocking (do people still know who Danzig is enough to be shocked by him?). As strange as this may sound to all of you, I actually don't go out of my way to shock. I try to look cool and express myself, and figure that nothing I do, relative to the extremes of some LA subcultures, is all that offensive. Thus I'm usually surprised when someone does take offense.
I spend much of the evening talking with David Poland, because I like him and we agree on Matrix Reloaded being one of the year's best, and we also agree that critics who see screeners as an absolute right are whiny. Spoke to Jeff Wells a bit also, who doesn't really look that much like the photo on his site, to me anyhow -- no wonder I seldom recognize him. Poland and Wells were like old friends, which is weird if you follow the snipes they take at each other online. I guess it's like me and Max Mohr, only Max is a lazy bastard who's given up on his blog, apparently. Probably pissed that I snubbed his birthday party to go to Canada. Yes, the truth is revealed -- only reason I went up north was to avoid buying Max a present. Now who's the master miser, eh Max?
Otehr celebs I saw included the Jedi Master Rebecca Rom-Jinn, Gregory "Quite-Gone Jimm" Weinkauf, and Dr. Phlox from Star Trek Enterprise. LeeAnn Rimes showed up with Diane Warren to sing a couple of the latter's songs. Felt like a sonic weapon. Also it was formally announced that Steve Martin is the new Inspector Clouseau.
I spilled my sidecar all over a tray of bruschetta, which was embarassing. Mainly because I wasn't even drunk -- it was my first beverage of the night. Couldn't get too wasted -- had to drive. I think I had four drinks in four hours. That's light for me, but since I've been to Canada I now know that even heavy for me is light to some -- I know some women up there who can outdrink me.
No sign of any WOODS folks other than Patricia. Lucky's back in town, but on his way shortly to the south to "kill some Bambis."
Posted by LYT at 2:29 AM | Comments (0)
November 11, 2003
Drown Town
Remember on "Married With Children," that one episode where everything starts going great for Al Bundy, then he panics because he just knows something bad is going to happen to balance his karma?
Well, I didn't anticipate this. I come back from the best vacation of my life to find my apartment flooded. My apartment is on the second floor of a building in Los Angeles.
A pipe had burst in the ceiling. The self-same pipe that has leaked through on at least three occasions while I've been here. Only this time, it could have been going as long as two weeks with no-one noticing, and the leak spans all the way across my living room ceiling. Maybe this is why the movie "Dark Water" affected me so much.
Several books and magazines, some that had great personal value and are irreplaceable, are ruined. Lots of videos are wet -- I hope they might run OK when dry (as a kid, I remember a friend of mine finding porn videos in the local river, and they worked). I have not tested the PS2 and cable box yet.
I tell myself these are just possessions. Thankfully the work computer is fine. The fresh laundry I had left on the floor and not put away yet served as a bit of a waterwall (firewall for water, that is).
There will be one more set report on The Woods -- just trying to find an appropriate image to show with it from either my collection or Pierre's. As the movie heads into post-production I'll try to find out anything I can, but don't expect much over November or December due to the holidays.
UPDATE: Looks like all my student films have been destroyed by water. This is a very hard loss to take, because they are not replaceable.
Posted by LYT at 2:27 AM | Comments (1)
November 8, 2003
ANOTHER FINE SET REPORT WITH ALL-NEW IMAGE FROM “THE WOODS”
I’d like to start this report with an admonition. If you are a cell-phone user (and I am not, nor will I be until my career absolutely compels it), please don’t ever ever ever call me from the men’s room. I dunno, I just find it kind of disrespectful to be calling your little kid and being cute while someone’s making a loud gassy bowel movement about a foot away. I know new parenthood necessarily creates a slight desensitivty to bodily functions, but the non-parenting world does not share it.
Producer Randy wants me to launch an Internet campaign against what he sees as one of the greatest threats to America today -- custard. Specifically, the kind found in the middle of Costco sheetcakes. It was Lucky’s birthday Nov. 1, and he asked specifically for a Costco cake. Randy ate some, but carefully removed and discarded the yellow gelatinous center. Later, at lunch, a super deluxe mega-chocolate cake with a picture of a scary tree on it was delivered, and confetti fired at Herr Director in mass quantities with much force. As I was sitting close, I took some friendly fire also.
Speaking of custard, I tried a donut at the popular Tim Horton’s chain up here in Canada. Simply called “chocolat fraise,” the fried confection was iced with chocolate, and contained strawberry filling, but also custard! The Monte Cristo of donuts. Good stuff. Then Randy told me you’re not supposed to eat Tim Horton’s donuts. Apparently, they aren’t fresh.
There are many, many conversations on set that could be taken the wrong way so easily. Whether it’s the digital effects guys talking about their reference balls, or special make-up folks wondering whether to suck or tug, or whether particular fluids should bubble or spurt, there’s much for Freudians and Beavises to have a field day with. And if you aren’t familiar with the peculiar system of light size nomenclature that exists within the movie industry, try this soundbite for size: “You want me to kill the baby on the floor?”
On our location day, I got to see what Anne called an Aurore Boreale, but I’ve been told it wasn’t THE Aurora Borealis, rather a smaller mere Aurora, caused by the recent solar storm.. Not quite as dramatic as those depicted in Disney’s Brother Bear, but an unexpected bonus nonetheless. A few days later, we had a little bit of snow and then an ice storm. Shells of ice formed around our van, falling off in large sheets when the doors were opened.
Watching second-unit stuff has been quite the learning experience. My impression of second unit was that it just did landscape type shots without the actors present, but there’s much more to it, and the actors sometimes are present -- for a close-up on Agnes Bruckner’s ear, for instance. Other stuff included insert shots of milk jugs, stuff getting set on fire (using propane and propane accessories -- Hank Hill would be proud), and in one case, a bright spark against a black background. On the second take of the spark, a brief wave of flame rippled across the flag backing it up, but swiftly extinguished itself. Coulda been dangerous, but actually looked somewhat beautiful.
Bruce Campbell was very cool on his last day. Went around and shook everyone’s hand, including mine. I told him once more that it was an honor to meet him, to which he replied “I’ll see you again next time around.” I hope so.
Bruce’s double is an interesting visual case, because facially the two look nothing alike, but from behind, it was very easy to confuse the two.
A few days ago, I had the honor of being included in the cast and crew photo. I tried to politely demur, but the photographer insisted, saying my colorful hair would liven things up. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it many, many more times: In your face, naysayers.
Actually obtaining a copy of the photo was more difficult. I had to make a sad face and say “But I’m IN the photo!” several times. I look happier in the picture than I have in months.
On the day off, last Monday, I used a roughly drawn map given to me by Agnes’ stand-in Stephanie, and explored town a bit. Another new soda they have up here is Sprite Ice, which is Sprite with added mint flavor. I am betting that an executive in charge of the brand likes mojitos and simply wanted a cheap mixer for his rum. Also available here is Kilkenny beer, a red Irish brew I learned to love in February of 2001 when I was over on the auld sod. It’s hard to find, even in England. I tellya, if it weren’t for the bitter cold, the fact that most stores close at 6, and the rampant smoking, I could live in Montreal.
I didn’t know this, but Montreal is an island. It’s an old joke here that if you get lost, hitting the water means you’ve gone too far. Seafood is good, and the sushi I had on my day off hit the spot. The California rolls seemed to be made with real (albeit processed) crab. Most in California seem to be made with imitation crabmeat, or “Krab.” The California roll is my state’s most detrimental contribution to global cuisine.
I met Marcia Bennett yesterday, who plays Ms. MacKinaw, a teacher with, shall we say, a unique affliction. Onscreen, she is terrifying, reminding me of the mini-tyrants who dominated the Irish education system (though Lucky says she’s partially inspired by his childhood teachers too, so I guess tyranny is universal). Offscreen, she’s totally different -- it’s an amazing transformation.
I also met the interestingly named Ivana Shein, who plays a character named Clara Thompson, presumably an ancestor of mine. She’s a playwright who recently caught the acting bug, and got this significant role on her first audition. She let me take her picture on condition she could take mine. I’ll post those if and when I can. I have a lot of pictures, but many cannot be shown until the film opens, tentatively skedded for late summer 2004. Ivana’s very nice and easy to talk to; I hope that won’t be a disadvantage in the cutthroat world of Hollywood!
And now, let me take a moment to praise Director of Photography John “Leo” Leonetti, one of the friendliest, most down-to-earth human beings I’ve ever met. Of all the people on this set, he’s the one I’d call most likely to be hanging out in Lucky’s pad drinking beers long after this thing’s wrapped. Among his credits: The Scorpion King, Mortal Kombat, The Mask. The Woods, however, looks (so far) less like those films and more like a bigger-budget May -- use of shadows and color is very similar. Lucky is rapidly establishing a consistent look to his body of work. Every night after wrap, we drink beers in the camera truck.
OK, I know some of you are saying, “Hey, Planty McPlant-Plant, we know everyone’s not nice! Give us some dirt!” Well, there ain’t much to be had. Any crew this size will have some internal disagreements, but I’ve been surprised just how little dissension there’s been, and how much like a big family it all feels. I feel that, and I’ve only been here a week and a half. It’s no wonder so many people in the biz form romantic attachments on set, then break up when the next film comes along and a new attachment is made. These are, in their own way, intimate circumstances.
Not long ago, we were joined up here by composer Jaye Barnes-Luckett, whose stuff so far for this movie is unbelievably haunting, and 100% different from her stuff on the May soundtrack. Also on the soundtrack are songs by a 60s singer I always considered a one-hit wonder (and an annoying one hit at that), but I was wrong. Lucky has dug up some great stuff by this individual, and his use of it could lead to a revival of sorts.
Jaye’s presence has brought out the best in us. I was told by more than one crew member that they didn’t know if I could talk until Jaye came. Lucky similarly seems more relaxed (except for the long hours of these final few days, which fray nerves, but can lead to extreme goofiness when finally over). He’s handling things really well -- I’ve known the guy for ten years, but it occurred to me recently that I’ve mostly hung with him at parties, and never seen him work. His ability to be diplomatic and deal with random stuff that comes up is impressive as hell to me. In my day job, I’ve had to use similar skills. The night after Jaye arrived, she brought some Old Forrester, and I got double-vision-level fucked up. This was the night of the ice storm, and Anne, who was my ride back to the youth hostel (where I’m now staying, since the McKee pad cannot hold four people; three is a stretch), decided it might be an amusing challenge to make me walk down the thickly iced metal steps in back. This activity forced a certain degree of sobering up (Anne’s master plan perhaps?), and thankfully nothing is broken.
I had to make an excursion to see Matrix Revolutions on opening day. I found it a tad disappointing, but there’s a lot in it I really dig. It’s the Return of the Jedi of the trilogy -- I stand by my controversial call that Reloaded is the best in the series, and the best movie this year period. Time will tell.
My webmaster and I have had to buy extra bandwidth to handle all the hits we’ve been getting lately. Thanks to all the new readers, and I hope at least some of you might stick around once the Woods stuff is done, though from now until next summer I’ll be trying to get as much to show you as I can.
“Pierre the P.A.” is laying low for a while, but his photos are not the clearest in the world anyhow. Today’s image is. It’s director Lucky McKee on location, grabbing himself a cold one.
Posted by LYT at 2:25 AM | Comments (0)
November 1, 2003
SET REPORT WITH NEW EXCLUSIVE IMAGE FROM LUCKY MCKEE’S “THE WOODS”
Everyone see the new issue of Entertainment Weekly today? There’s a picture of Agnes Bruckner, the, uh, uniquely coiffed female star of the movie. EW claims they have the “exclusive first look.” What they really mean, as readers of this site will know, is “exclusive first look not provided by a vertically challenged drunken Frenchie of dubious credentials.” Because Pierre and I scooped them on that score.
I don’t want to assume, though. EW may in fact hire drunken Frenchmen for all I know.
A few months ago, I actually had the privilege to watch some of the audition tapes for The Woods. Everyone had their opinions at the time, but believe me when I say it is impossible to imagine anyone but Agnes in this role. I actually said to Lucky that less than a year from now, Agnes’ character Heather will be the popular Halloween outfit -- and it’ll probably be worn by a guy. The very next day, Randy the producer proved me 100% correct. I know footage was taken, and I really hope it ends up on the DVD.
Randy’s a hilarious guy -- totally deadpan, which plays even better in a bilingual culture because sarcasm often fools those whose first language isn’t the same. Randy also loves donuts, which explains the presence of Krispy Kremes, and the fact that the official crew hat bears the logo of a popular Canadian vendor of the fried round rings.
Lucky’s also good at the deadpanning -- he told a couple of people that I was the head of MGM, and at least one genuinely believed it. Even when I cleared things up, this person couldn’t understand why anyone would make up something like that.
Patricia Clarkson really seemed to be hitting her stride on the day I arrived. Following one pivotal scene near film’s end, she came running offstage full of energy. I told her she did a great job, and she responded, “YES! Coming up [spoiler deleted; enthusiastic description of action she had just performed]!” Anyway, point is she really seemed to dig it. When I finally got to see her deliver dialogue, it was truly awesome.
Last night I got to see Bruce Campbell get repeatedly kicked in the face. No double was used for that scene. The man is exactly as he seems onscreen, though Lucky’s drawing a much more serious performance out of him than I think anyone is expecting. Which is not to say there won’t be one or two characteristic Bruce moments. We grew up on Evil Dead, after all.
Thursday was a location shoot, mostly involving moving scenes in cars, so there wasn’t a lot to do or to watch for anyone not directly involved with the scene. I got to meet Bruce for the first time in the morning, and just hearing him interact with deadpan Randy was one of those genius moments in life. Randy was telling a story about a certain famous director who called him and wanted to work with him, then never called back after saying he would.
Bruce’s response: “That’s a great story, Randy. You know what’s really great about it? The ending. ‘And then nothing happened.’ I love your stories.” Every time after that when Randy would start to tell an anecdote, Bruce would chip in with “And then nothing happened.”
Anyhow, Lucky’s adorable assistant Anne, Mike, and me decided to take a day trip to go see a movie. Well, actually Anne seemed to want to go apple picking, which she described as really hard work. We voted her down.
We found a big multiplex, agreed to see Scary Movie 3, but noted that it didn’t start for an hour. So we drove the van to the corner of the parking lot, had some tasty beverages, burned some dried leaves encased in cylindrical paper tubes commonly found inside small foil-lined cardboard boxes, until such time as we decided a bathroom break was needed. So we headed to the theater, and maybe we should have checked sooner, because it was closed.
On went the search. Finally we got to a place called Colossus. And let me just say I love Canadian movie theaters. I mentioned the “rumble packs” in my last post; this theater diodn’t have those, but it did have stadium seating, and great food! Ben and Jerrys, Burger King, twice-cooked fries -- I can’t tell you how many times in the course of my day job I find myself in a theater at dinner time, starved but sick of popcorn. We need solutions like this.
Also Canadian theaters show WWE pay-per-views on the big screen for the normal cost of a movie ticket.
Trailer for a movie that will probably never play L.A. -- French language comedy about people chasing cats. The cats talk. The movie’s called “Miaou.” Harry Knowles, if you’re reading this, I want to see scoops on that movie NOW! Too bad Pierre didn’t make that crew.
We got back to location too late for dinner, which ahd been promised courtesy of a real restaurant, but everyone told us the food sucked and we had lucked out by missing it. The catering guy made us an amazing chicken stew instead.
Yesterday, for Halloween, there was some serious pinata bashing going on. Actress Lauren Birkell started it off, but by the time it got around to Lucky the blindfolds had been done away with, and the notion of spraying participants with silly string introduced.
Oh, I forgot to mention: The soundstage is called “Mel’s cite du cinema.” The first stage I saw was one built especially for that bravura outer space picture Pluto Nash. Also filmed here: Battlefield Earth. Many other posters of movies filmed in this area are on the walls, including some that would not be approved by the MPAA. The poster for The Barbarian Invasions, for instance, is a picture of a bare butt. There’s another one here that’s a silhouette of a moose with a massive hard-on attempting sexual congress with a motor vehicle.
Note to self: see that movie.
But anyway, you guys want to get the photo. So I’ll turn it over to our friend “Pierre.”
“Bonjour mes amis
Never did I think that my one picture would cause such a tempete! It is perhaps as if I am Montreal's Most Wanted on this plateau. That trick with the wine was devious, but no-one with pure French blood running through his veins could hope to keep his genetics unpolluted if he were to lower himself to drinking such cheap merde de chien. But I must be on my guard.
It has been good to see our friend LYT up here -- his hair me fait flipper, maybe
more than these woods? Like Lucky, he needs to be taught the benefits of vin rouge.
Because my identity is being sought, it is harder to get pictures, but here is one. Monsieur Bruce has fallen out of bed, perhaps on the wrong side? If it is true he will be grumpy.
Forgive the unclearness. Right as I was setting my camera, Bruce tells a funny joke about the poulet crossing the rue, and I laugh so hard I forget to properly set my exposure. Still, it is a film qui fou la trouille, non?!”
(click here for Pierre's original report)
Posted by LYT at 2:20 AM | Comments (0)