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November 27, 2004
Land of THE LOST - final day set report
CLICK HERE for part one of the set report
CLICK HERE for part two
This was an extra day, so many of the crew were unable to make it, having previously lined up other work. New faces of day players abounded. Among friends of mine, Zach was noticeable by his departure.
[note to readers -- next graf is not about the movie at all -- skip if you wish]
I drove up from the San Diego, where I had been for the Fozzy video, with a major coolant leak in my car. I think it’s an extension of a problem I’ve had with it since day one -- there was always a kind of “rustling paper” sound in the vents, and occasionally a squeak. When filled up after a Jiffylube service, it would be fine for a while. But freakin’ mechanics...they never want to help you when it’s just a minor noise; only when it becomes a really big problem. For weeks now, there’s been an odd smell in my car. It started about the time of my controversy cinema party no-one came to, and smelled a bit like sweetened bread and fish, so I figured I must have somehow left pieces of my Jesus-food in the car. Could never find them, so I bought an air freshener. But when my coolant kept needing more and more refills, I finally did one myself and noticed that the inside of the coolant tank...smelled just like the inside of my car now did. It was getting into the vent system somehow. Turns out I needed a new heater core. But I didn’t have time between travels, so I just had to keep refilling and hope the car would hold up for the moment...[we’ll come back to this in a bit]
The shoot was back at the ranch up in the Malibu canyons. When I got there, they were shooting images from the film’s climactic scene, set inside a cabin where Marc Senter, as Ray, is terrorizing some victims. Shay Astar and Robin Sydney are among those held captive, along with a third actress I didn’t meet (Megan Henning). It was a closed set, meaning hooters were on display to a lucky few.
Or was it just a few? One of the shots required Megan, whose shirt was half torn off, to run away towards the door. The door had a big window in it and that was not covered up. So all of us who’d been shunted outside got a pretty good look.
Here we see Shay taking a breather between intense scenes of screaming:
While we waited outside for the hooter scenes to be finished, the crew members started joking about how we should all write a musical and perform it for everyone when they emerged. Some hilarious dialogue emerged from this brief speculation:
Crew Member 1: “You can play the sad little dog that gets lost in the big city”
Crew Member 2: “Why do I have to do that? I wanna be the badass demon!”
I don’t know about you, readers, but I’m already dying to see that musical, should it ever become more than an idle throwaway line.
Robin’s mother Marion passed the time making wooden bead bracelets for all of us, with Chinese letters carved into each bead. They look very nice, I must say -- I’m wearing mine as I type this.
As soon as the set was no longer closed, I had to get a look inside, because they were about to film the next best thing to female nudity -- guns and squibs! (Squibs are exploding blood pouches that give the illusion of having been shot)
Ultimately, the squib wasn’t that exciting, though. It paled in comparison to the loud-ass gunshot, not to mention Ray’s bloody face...
If an action figure is ever made, this needs to be the reference photo.
Credit for all that juice goes to the make-up lady, “Bloody Theresa”
Apparently I had missed the first meal, which Mike told me was steak and lobster. I thought he was just saying that to get my goat, but it was true. Later he tried to mock me by calling me Larry (because another PA had by mistake), to which I responded, “Whatever you say, Mr. McGee.”
Then he scammed a free haircut from Theresa.
Anyway, on the way up I had to refill the coolant tank, so I stopped at a store and bought some booze, because some of those liquor stores have mandatory minimum purchases in order to use your ATM card. I bought two bottles of Jack. Right about the time the cabin scenes wrapped, I got a Diet Coke, drank half of it, and filled the rest from my bottle.
Here’s one of Ray’s victims...or is it?
There had been drama the previous day of shooting. It seems that a church was the location, and if you’re wondering how on earth any church ever approved a movie full of gore and hooters, well...it didn’t. The church proprietors were given a different script. Unfortunately, the guy from the church who was there to supervise was very film-savvy, and quite unhappy with the deal, so he forced them to expose all the film they had shot under threat of a lawsuit.
Hence, a scene set at a country club, which was to have been the church, had to be redone at the ranch. This worked out well for me, because, in another twist of fate, only two extras had been sent by the casting agency. They needed more people. And I volunteered myself.
What about my distracting hair? The deal was I had to find a hat, and since the ranch also serves as a place for nudists to party, there were plenty of big sun hats available. I was mad pimpin’, yo.
Genevieve, who had been in the film previously, adopted a new hairstyle and added glasses to play my date. Chicks dig big hats, it turns out.
She took a picture of me in costume, but it hasn’t been developed yet. I’ll post it when I can. The fake wine we drank onscreen was cranberry juice, white and red.
In the scene, Ray and Katherine (Robin Sydney) talk about the worst things they’ve ever done. Assuming the scene stays in, look to the right of the screen when this happens, and you may just see a stylin’ dude in Roger L. Simon-esque headwear.
The last shot of the night, as dawn rapidly approached, was one of Ray and Katherine pulling up to the campground. The sun was quickly coming up, so it had to be done fast. I think they nailed it in three takes, after which I passed around my second bottle of Jack to be enjoyed by all. Crafts service goddess Sass declined at first, but once she was done packing up, she indulged. It was a worthy reward for her decision to cook mini pizza rolls that night, which go down really well as allnighter food.
The sun rose over the canyon
I went inside to watch some dailies with Chris -- more footage from the climax, with Ray brutalizing people. At one point, Ray invokes the name of Sharon Tate...why don’t I let your imagination run wild regarding what happens next.
Driving home at about 8 a.m. was a nightmare. The coolant got so into my heating system that huge wafts of coolant gas were streaming out of the vents towards my face, and I couldn’t shut it off. I had to roll down both windows, pull my shirt over my face, and hope for the best, knowing I’d never make it to an early-bird mechanic on time, but shooting for the Firestone near me.
It was like being in a spy movie, and realizing your car’s been rigged with deadly gas, but there’s nothing you can do about it. Rush-hour hold ups made me especially furious that day.
But the car got fixed, for just under $500, and it doesn’t make those noises it used to make any more. Also, my wheezing just got quite a bit better. Could it be that I didn’t need the freakin’ Paxil after all, that it was all caused by coolant vapor, which is “harmful if inhaled”?
I don’t know. You tell me. Here’s one last look at Ray:
I just bought the book, and the opening chapter is adapted faithfully in the film, for sure.
Posted by LYT at 12:57 PM | Comments (1)
November 24, 2004
Land of THE LOST, part two
For part one of the set report, CLICK HERE
The location during my second set visit was a two-hour drive outside of town, at a mile-high park in the mountains. To save everyone gas money, the deal was that we were all supposed to drive to a soundstage in North Hollywood, where shuttle vans would take us to the set.
Call time was initially thought to be 11, but it turned out to be 10. Gen and Mike had asked me to be their ride to the soundstage, which I readily agreed to, but when I showed up at Lucky’s apartment, I found everyone in various stages of drowsiness. Clad only in underwear, Mike’s first words were, “Someone got me fucked up last night!” (My guess? Someone named Mike.)
Lucky got up quickly, as he had to go and do ADR recording with Bruce Campbell for THE WOODS. Mike admitted there was no way he was going to be ready, and told me to go on ahead. He and Gen would eventually arrive with Zach and Justin.
On the ride up, the crew all talked about some of the worst places they’d ever worked a shoot. Among them: a haunted motel, a coal mine deep underground, and numerous abandoned buildings with no electricity or fire safety.
The lake where the shoot was happening was in an area near many Bible camps; suffice it to say that we weren’t exactly a family-friendly bunch.
Shit was really cold, and got colder by the hour. In the movie, it’s supposed to be summer. But in one of the shots, no attempt was made to hide the patch of snow on the ground.
Here’s director Chris Sivertson at breakfast, breaking the news to Ruby and Erin that they have to strip down in the freezing cold.
Unfortunately for me and you, my camera battery crapped out early on, so I don’t have as many photos for this day. Nor can I show you the full beauty of what I saw...
...that’s right...
HOOTERS!
The first scene shot will be the first scene of the movie, in which Ray approaches an outhouse, and a fully naked girl (Erin) emerges. The outhouse was a constructed prop. Chris made sure that toilet paper was added to the inside, because, as he noted, “We don’t want the audience to think she didn’t wipe. That would make her unsympathetic.”
Here, Mike and Chris sit a few feet away from the shot.
Technically, all scenes involving nudity were a “closed set,” i.e. if you didn’t have to be there, get the fuck out. It’s hard to enforce that rule out in the open, so we were politely asked to avert our eyes. But no-one said we couldn’t watch the monitor.
It’ll all be on film eventually anyway. Erin hides nothing.
Justin’s digging it, apparently.
As daylight ended, things just got colder and colder, and the gas-powered heat lamps didn’t work. Round about dinner time, one of them finally got fixed, but then, maybe three hours later, line-producer Laszlo wanted it moved closer to the food table. Naturally, as soon as it was moved, it went out, never to return to life. Zach tried to keep warm by fashioning headwear out of tarp and an unused diaper, or something like that.
The original plan for the next scene was for Ray (Marc Senter) and Katherine (Robin Sydney) to go skinny dipping in the lake, with some underwater footage that would be shot by putting the camera inside a glass fishtank.
Problem #1: It was fucking cold.
Problem #2: So fucking cold that the fishtank fogged up any time it was put in the water.
Problem #3: Also so fucking cold that when the supervising diver (who boasted of having worked with J-Lo) went down in a dry-suit, he emerged with ice on his outfit. This little discovery meant that there was no way he’d sign off on the shoot.
A rewrite was in order. Robin would still get naked, Marc would lose his pants but get to keep his shirt, but neither would have to swim. Because, see, if they did, they’d probably go into a coma. It was below freezing by the time we were done. I dipped my fingertips into the water and they hurt for several minutes.
One of the crew told me that if I were any cuter, he’d snuggle up to me. Damn, I’m not cute enough? (for the record: not gay. Maybe you guessed that when I mentioned hooters.)
Robin’s mother Marion was on set -- says she got the idea from Jessica Biel’s mom, who vows to be on every set with her daughter until she turns 25. She doesn’t nag or interfere or anything; just wants to be there for support if needed. She commented that she was glad Marc got to be on top in the sex scene, because it would keep Robin warm!
This also was supposed to be a closed set, but it was on the shore of a lake, and as such couldn’t really be “closed” in any way, shape, or form. I didn’t have to rely on the monitor this time. Even standing way clear, at a distance, hooters were visible. Funny how the cold enhances females and hurts males. And speaking of that, the wardrobe lady insisted Marc wear a sock. Not on his foot, folks. Marc said he’d rather not, because it kept slipping off, to which the costumer said that she’d come and tie it on extra tight if necessary.
Marc gets himself psyched up for scenes using an iPod, which can occasionally lead to odd karaoke-type numbers, as when he and Shay broke out in George Michael songs during a set-up the previous day. Elvis is his primary inspiration for the role of Ray.
Ray may be an SOB, but Marc is totally huggable, as you can see...
That’s it for photos, but stay tuned for the next installment, which will have the best picture yet, I promise...
(no hooters though)
CLICK HERE for the next and final installment!
Posted by LYT at 12:46 PM | Comments (1)
November 19, 2004
Land of THE LOST (another LYTrules.com exclusive set report)
Well, I finally found the set. Turns out that it was in an area where cell phones get no reception, so no-one was getting my messages.
A little background, for those who don't know. THE LOST is an adaptation of a Jack Ketchum novel. Lucky McKee is a producer; Chris Sivertson is the director. Chris was co-director of ALL CHEERLEADERS DIE, director of the short film-within-a-film "Jack & Jill" in MAY, and costars with me in the black and white short film linked on this very site's main page.
Here's a picture of Chris:
As you can see, this was a night shoot. Many of my pictures, therefore, were done in extremely low light and aren't all of the highest resolution. But that's okay -- it keeps the film a little mysterious and doesn't spoil too much.
The plot of the movie, as far as I can figure out, is this: Four years after getting away with murder, borderline psychopath Ray Pye, who looks like a goth James Dean and acts like Dennis Hopper in BLUE VELVET (with a touch of Crispin Glover for good measure), gets pushed to the brink by those around him and his own destructive behavior, and goes on a rampage. Fucks some shit up. There's lots of nudity, violence, and nasty language in this flick, and I wouldn?t be surprised if evil triumphs (that's not a spoiler, because I don't know -- haven't read the book or the script).
Ray is played by Marc Senter. This is him:
Marc has no major credits thus far on imdb, but once this thing gets out, he'll be remembered. This is a defining role, one people will want to own action figures of.
The shoot took place on a ranch in the canyons of Malibu, one where several adult films have been made. It's a wide spread. Here are some images:
The first scene that was shot is one that takes place very early in the movie, in which Ray spies on a lesbian couple who disgust him, then suggests to his friends that they go kill 'em.
This is what the scene looked like from a distance:
That'd be Ray and his buddy Tim in the tree, and Ray's girlfriend Jen (former child actor Shay Astar) standing away from them. Here?s the same scene with crew in the foreground:
The next scene took place around the lesbians' camp:
That's not one of the Sapphic duo, by the way, just some other dude stoking the fire. At one point, Ray had to kick the big stones around the edge of the flame pit into the fire, and when the scene got reset, the boom mic guy, picked those stones back out of the fire with his bare hands. That was pretty badass.
We had some familiar faces on the crew. Genevieve, who did sound on THE WOODS, was the official still photographer
Lucky's dad Mike McKee, who also acts in THE LOST (and made cameos as the optician in MAY and a hospital orderly in THE WOODS) is documenting behind-the-scenes action.
Zach Passero, director of that B/W Super Transient short with me and Chris in it, is operating the clapperboard.
And Justin Stone, another old pal and codirector/costar (with Zach) of the upcoming feature MOTEL,GLIMPSE is helping out in his own special way...
Signs like this were plastered all around the ranch. I know the focus ain't great, so here's what it says: "DROUGHT CONDITIONS. Please conserve water. *5 minute showers only* DO NOT let the water run unnecessarily: *rinsing dishes* *shampooing hair* *brushing teeth* Pick your favorite bush or tree. Pee Outside. Full loads of laundry only. Thank you!"
It's really good to be a guy sometimes. Here's a look at something I found in the craft services area:
It should not be considered representative of the otherwise wonderfully stocked area, but I liked the image.
This actress, Erin Brown, appears to be getting a prosthetic put on her eye...
I wonder why? Oh, wait, no I don't...
Do you like the gory gals? Check out Ruby La Rocca...
Ruby told me she took this role because the manner in which she dies is the only way she has not yet been killed onscreen. I asked which was the worst way to go, and she said it was hanging, because the harness digs into your legs and gets painful.
Here's someone who seems to have met with a bad end...
That's it for now, folks. But the shoot isn?t over yet...
CONTINUE TO PART TWO OF THIS EXCLUSIVE REPORT!
Posted by LYT at 12:47 AM | Comments (8)
November 18, 2004
Review Update
In New Times, a sample of this week's review:
"The one thing still left unexplained in the movie is why a crab would serve something called a Krabby Patty to other sea creatures. If it's made from real crabmeat, that makes Mr. Krabs a cannibal; if it's imitation crabmeat, well, that's still made from fish. On the other hand, if it isn't either one of those, but rather some mysterious vegan composite, it would explain why no one has been able to duplicate the formula."
Whole thing HERE
and elsewhere, in CityBeat and possibly Alaska:
#Seed of Chucky#
In the style of "Wes Cravens New Nightmare" and "Scream 3," the fifth film about killer doll Chucky involves a movie within the movie about the exploits of the famous maniac. Naturally, it isnt long before the prop versions of Chucky (voice of Brad Dourif) and Tiffany (voice of Jennifer Tilly, who also costars as herself) become possessed by the spirits of the originals, for reasons that no-one bothers to explain in detail because they really dont matter.
Meanwhile, Chucky and Tiffanys gender-ambiguous child from "Bride of Chucky" (now voiced by ex-Hobbit Billy Boyd) has grown up in England, and become part of a heavy-metal ventriloquist act known as Psych and Shitface. Escaping to Los Angeles to meet his parents, the former dummy, in a tribute to Ed Wood, has trouble deciding whether he wants to be named Glen or Glenda. But what he does know is that he doesnt want to be a killer, a fact that disgusts his father and induces his mother to try and quit killing using a 12-step program.
All the while, the real Jennifer Tilly is auditioning to play the part of the virgin Mary in a film to be directed by rapper Redman (himself). Plans for that are stymied when Chucky decides that he needs to artificially inseminate her and transfer Glen/Glendas spirit into a real baby. Oh, and a stalkerazzo played by John Waters is hot on everyones trail.
Needless to say, none of this is intended to be taken seriously. One or two kills are pretty cool, but overall the low budget hurts the film -- most of it is set in Jennifer Tillys house. The epilogue features the only decent scare, which is a shame; Chucky is inherently funny, but we like him to occasionally be frightening too.
In other news: I finally found the set of THE LOST. Full report with pictures to come when I can muster up the energy for it.
Posted by LYT at 3:13 PM | Comments (1)
November 17, 2004
Lost 'N the 'Bush
So I cleared my schedule to make time to visit the set of THE LOST, yet cannot get anyone to tell me where it is. Meanwhile, these people are apparently wondering why I'm not there. Basic math, folks.
In other news: Gregory Hatanaka's next film, formerly called AMBUSH FROM ALL SIDES, is now back to being called NO REGRETS. We held a casting session at Sarah Lassez's house in Silver Lake this weekend (no, I'm not telling you where it is. She's probably moving shortly anyhow).
It wasn't really an audition as such -- most of the people who came had already more or less been cast, and we wanted to see them read. Among those in attendance was Stanley Herman, who played the creepy veterinarian in UNTIL THE NIGHT. Greg likes to aspire to be John Cassavetes, which among many other things means sticking with a lot of the same people. That's good news for me, and for fans of Douglas Dunning.
Greg asked me to bring coffee and donuts, which I did, but I have some advice to all future people who may make such requests, as well as anyone tempted to say yes to such things. Large orders of coffee and donuts should only be delivered in cars containing at least one passenger. You can't drive and keep six cups of coffee steady at the same time.
I think only Stanley ended up drinking the coffee. Of the dozen donuts, maybe four got eaten. Producer Edwin Santos took the rest home. But Greg paid for them nonetheless.
When it came time for me to read, I did so, but still had the cold. After I read, Greg said "Can you do it without the heavy breathing?"
Me: "I'm not doing that deliberately. My nose is blocked from this cold. I can try blowing it really hard first."
Sarah: "Don't make him do that."
In related news, UNTIL THE NIGHT will be coming out on DVD via Pathfinder Pictures next year, and will include at least one of my deleted scenes as a bonus feature. The movie will then air on the Sundance Channel.
Saturday I head down to San Diego to appear in a music video directed by Paul Hough, my collaborator on The Unnamed Project. I think I'm becoming typecast -- he's having me play a gay make-up man. The band is Fozzy, a heavy metal combo fronted by WWE star Chris Jericho. Jericho will not be there when I am, alas, but I did get to meet him that one time.
Posted by LYT at 12:22 PM | Comments (0)
November 16, 2004
Gentlemen don't necessarily prefer blondes
Just in case any of you ladies with darker hair felt left out by that last photo, here's one you can enjoy. That's Jennifer Strug on the left (my right) and Melissa (last name unknown by me) on the other side. Both are background actresses in THE WOODS.
Posted by LYT at 1:37 AM | Comments (3)
November 15, 2004
READ LYT'S "TRAILER TRASH" COLUMN
Posted by LYT at 10:32 PM | Comments (6)
November 14, 2004
Blogging the AFI fest - final installment
HANK WILLIAMS FIRST NATION
It's always weird, but I guess it's gonna happen more and more often, when you go into a movie you've never heard of and suddenly notice that someone you know has a major role in it. Especially if the movie is almost entirely set on a Cree Indian reservation, and the person you know is a beautiful blonde Caucasian.
So, as it turns out, Stephanie Dixon, who was Agnes Bruckner's stand-in on THE WOODS, and quite possibly one of the most beautiful and charming women I've ever met, plays pretty much the only whitey in this movie (writer-director Aaron James Sorenson is also a whitey).
Stephanie's the one on the right (my left) in this picture:
The ostensible plot is that one of the older residents decides to make a pilgrimage by bus to the grave of Hank Williams in Nashville (he isn't really buried there, and the movie does mention that late in the game), so his brother Adelard Fox (Gordon Tootoosis) persuades his grandson to go along on the trip, even obtaining permission from the high school principal to give the boy class credit if he consistently writes letters from the road.
Yet the action mostly stays back at the res, where an entrepreneurial youngster (forgive the lack of credit, but imdb is horribly sparse and I have no other resource) is selling firewood in hopes of funding a community center for the middle-aged, that will be next to the youth center so that the generations will actually talk to each other. Much of this exposition is handled by a hilariously deadpan radio DJ known only as The Old Man of the Mountain.
Stephanie plays a high school teacher, and I have to say I can't imagine any of the males in her class paying much attention to the lessons. My high school teachers were all middle-aged types, frankly. Anyway, her main student of note is Adelard's other granddaughter Sarah (Stacy Da Silva), who's having a bit of an identity crisis.
It's an enjoyable movie, but I think the title's a bit misleading. The Hank Williams storyline is a subplot at best, though perhaps it's the most obvious marketing hook. Gordon Tootoosis rocks, and it looks like he's had a pretty solid career.
THE GREAT WATER
If youve seen Guillermo del Toros personal masterpiece "The Devils Backbone," simply imagine it without any supernatural elements, transposed from Spain to Macedonia, and youve more or less got "The Great Water."
If you missed "The Devils Backbone," first of all, go rent it. Then you wont need to sit through this similar tale of a 1945 orphanage in the middle of nowhere, where young children are collected from the surrounding countryside and harshly disciplined by their communist overseers who hope to create a new generation of Stalin youth.
The whole thing is artfully filmed, but nothing much actually happens. Our hero Lem (Saso Kekenovski) decides to befriend a new boy, Isak (Maja Stankovska), but its never clear why. Then theres a whole subplot about the wardens assistant, Olivera (Verica Nedeska) and her prized pair of red shorts that go missing. Also theres a lot of really annoying soprano singing on the soundtrack.
The adult Lem (Meto Jovanovski), whos remembering the whole story as he lies dying on an emergency room gurney, periodically enters the picture to offer narration and insight (in English, though none of the other dialogue is). Its an interesting touch to have him literally interact with his own past, but director Ivo Trajkov doesnt really play around with the possibilities such a narrative device offers.
Okay. Now here's something totally unrelated:
AFTER THE SUNSET
Director Brett Ratner is no-ones idea of a creative genius -- even his successful "Rush Hour" movies were more or less remakes of his own earlier Chris Tucker vehicle "Money Talks." But give him this much: It appears that he got to take a Bahamas vacation on New Line Cinemas dime, and while there persuaded a few actors to make up a movie on the spot.
Oh sure, the credits claim theres a screenplay by Paul Zbyszewski and Craig Rosenberg, first-timers both, but its hard to imagine that they actually planned any of what we see in the final product. Ostensibly a heist movie, in which master-thief Pierce Brosnan comes out of retirement for one last score, the flick all but ignores the heist elements until the very end, focusing instead on Brosnan and Salma Hayek romping around in their underwear, and Woody Harrelson getting into some compromising homo-erotic positions with Brosnan.
No, Im nor making that up or imagining it. Brosnan and Harrelson rub sunscreen all over each others bodies, get photographed in a doggie-style pose, and even wind up sleeping in the same bed together. Did Trey Parker and Matt Stone do an uncredited rewrite on this thing?
Brosnan is looking better with age, but Harrelson is definitely not -- bald and bug-eyed, he looks horrific in his sex scene with "28 Days Later" hottie Naomie Harris. Don Cheadle also shows up as one of the least threatening crimelords ever depicted on celluloid.
Ratner never takes any of this too seriously, and perhaps because I expected something truly ghastly, I found myself reasonably entertained. But its hard to actually encourage you to shell out good money to see it, so I wont do that.
Posted by LYT at 3:04 AM | Comments (5)
November 12, 2004
Some stuff
I've come down with a cold that I hope will be minor, but is making my sinuses ache. This will dealy festival blogging somewhat.
Meanwhile, here are the Citybeat reviews from the current ish.
#SEX IS COMEDY#
Though shes normally known for in-your-face graphic sexuality and cruelty, director Catherine Breillat here takes a detour into deliberate self-parody, with a movie about the making of a sexually graphic movie where the two leads arent really all that into it and dont like each other. Breillats surrogate here is Jeanne ("La Femme Nikita"s Anne Parillaud, in minimal makeup but still a beauty), the director who wants to push her love scenes to the limit, but has a penchant for casting dumb-ass leading men who simply happen to look good. Her latest find, played by Gregoire Colin, is a narcissistic show-off every time he deals with the crew, but manages to clam up when it comes time to make out for the cameras (one imagines he may be a surrogate for Breillats favorite porn star Rocco Sifredi).
Meanwhile, the leading lady (Roxane Mesquida) keeps splitting hairs about the degree of nudity shes willing to do, and yammers on and on about her boyfriend. Using flattery and manipulation, Jeanne must try to get the best out of her leads by hook or by crook, all the while dangerously flirting with her personal assistant (Ashley Wanninger).
Movies about movie-making can be unbearably insular, but I cant recall one that deals so specifically with the difficulties of love scenes without being exploitative. Sure, there are some cheap gags at the expense of a "Boogie Nights"-style prosthetic penis, but generally theyre honest titters at the discomfort and, lets face it, ridiculousness of faking intimacy in front of a large crew.
#FADE TO BLACK#
At the pinnacle of his career, rapper Jay-Z chose to retire from the game, but not before selling out Madison Square Garden in four minutes for a star-studded farewell show (though apparently he's still on tour). "Fade to Black" gives us most of that show, interspersed with behind-the-scenes vignettes of the making of Jay-Zs last album.
Unless youre a hardcore fan whos never seen the man in concert and really wants to by any means necessary, youd be better off buying the soundtrack. Jay-Zs raps are compelling and skillful, but when he isnt rhyming he doesnt have much charisma, and hes kind of an ugly guy (Beyonce presumably loves him for his mind...or his bank account).
Special guest performers include Beyonce (the only one whos truly easy on the eyes), ?uestlove, Ghostface Killah, R. Kelly, and Beanie Siegel. The audience appears to have memorized every lyric to every song, proving that kids do know how to study if you just give them the right material.
Posted by LYT at 3:48 PM | Comments (1)
November 11, 2004
Review Update
I'm going to try a new way of doing this -- offering a teaser quote rather than a punny one-line synopsis.
"If you have a chance to see the 3-D IMAX version of the movie, ignore any objections. Viewed on a grand scale and coming out of the screen, The Polar Express is a groundbreaking spectacle that makes you feel like you're at the beginning of something, like the first color film or the original Cinerama epics"
Full review HERE
Posted by LYT at 1:29 AM | Comments (2)
November 10, 2004
Blogging the AFI fest, part two
THE BIG QUESTION
Film-makers Francesco Cabras and Alberto Molinari travelled to the Italian set for a certain unnamed movie about, uh, the passion of Jesus Christ. There they interviewed a bunch of people who are never named onscreen, but one of them is a very famous American actor-turned-director with a mild trace of Australian accent and extremist Catholic beliefs.
Presumably they play it coy for legal reasons, but yep, it's Mel Gibson. He's one of many people who talk to the camera wbout their perception of God. Other notables interviewed include Monica Bellucci, Maia Morgenstern (Mary), Luca Lionello (Judas), Rosalinda Celentano (Satan), and even the midget woman who plays Satan's hairy baby, as well as several crew members. Viewpoints vary, but the children who are interviewed appear to have the clearest, most positive, and most inclusive notions of the divine. Jesus did say to be like the children, after all.
The most amusing part of the film is a montage of Mad Mel making really huge hand gestures to enunciate his point, or mime a car accident. It's hard to tell which, since the directors drop the sound out at that point and add music instead. Mel's most telling quote: "I hope I'm right. If I'm not, hey, bring on the harem and cocaine!" Typical willful ignorance of the religious wrong -- that and all else he says imply that the only reason to be good is fear of punishment, which seems like a terrible philosophy to live under.
It's always fun for me to hear people talk theology in open-ended fashion, but it would be nice if the directors could tell us who the people are that we're watching. Maybe they legally can't, though.
OMAGH
Cowritten and produced by Paul Greengrass, this drama about the 1998 terrorist bombing in a Northern Ireland town plays very much like a sequel to his Bloody Sunday, in style and content. Using similar gray tones and jerky handheld camera, this movie, directed by Pete Travis, examines the bombing from the point of view of the Gallagher family, who wake up in the morning as normal, but find their lives immeasurably changed when son Aiden (Paul Kelly) goes into town to buy some jeans, and is never heard from again, as a car bomb detonated by a militant group called the Real IRA (as opposed to the mainstream, "sell-out," peace-negotiating IRA) blasts through the high street.
That's just the first half of the movie. The rest follows Aiden's father Michael (Gerard McSorley) as he joins a victim's rights group and tries to find out what actually happened, only to be stymied by the higher authorities who are worried that any kind of significant attempts at investigation or prosecution will hinder the ongoing peace process. To paraphrase Star Trek, the good of the many may outweigh the good of the few, but here we see how the faces of the few, and realize they can suffer like hell in the process.
Omagh has the edge over Bloody Sunday as a film, because while both are powerful, Omagh has a clear focus on a single protagonist, where Bloody Sunday by necessity was all over the place. That may have made it a better historical recreation, but focusing on an individual's plight makes for a more relatable film.
Posted by LYT at 1:37 AM | Comments (0)
November 8, 2004
AFI-fest quotables
"No, I was just at Amoeba [records] and needed to take a leak" -- LA Times entertainment writer Scott Timberg, on whether he's writing up the festival.
"In the gay community it's called a cum-catcher!" -- actor/publicist Mickey Cottrell on his new 'soul patch' goatee.
Posted by LYT at 5:06 PM | Comments (1)
A note about communications
I'm spending a lot of time at AFI fest this week. So if you're trying to get a hold of me, please leave very specific times and numbers at which I can call you back. I may not be home during thise times, but we can see.
Changed my hair color this week too. My normally unassailable patriotism got very assailed.
Posted by LYT at 4:58 PM | Comments (3)
Blogging the AFI Fest, part one.
With everything else going on my world, things suddenly get put on hold as a film festival lands practically in my backyard. AFI Fest is getting more and more kickass. Their lounge area is twice what it used to be, and the "happy hour" of open bar that once went from 5 to 7:30 is now 5 to closing time. Also the lounge has stuff like Krispy Kremes and Altoids.
But on to the films. First, the two I reviewed for CityBeat this week:
DOWNTOWN
On the mean streets of New York, a group of young runaways and fuck-ups squat in a crumbling tenement whose interior manages to somehow resemble that of a well-decorated loft. We have the stripper-cum-hooker (Rachel Vasquez), the friendly guy (screenwriter Joey Dedio), the pregnant nave girl (Domenica Cameron-Scorsese, daughter of you-know-who, unconvincingly playing a teen), the failed would-be musician (James Ransone), the HIV-positive junkie (Chad Allen), the gay hairdresser (Jeremy Alan Richards), and the retarded guy (Johnny Sanchez). It almost sounds like a pitch for a reality show, though in practice plays like a feature-length P.S.A.
Its been a decade since Screwballs director Rafal Zielinski won a couple of Sundance awards with the Heavenly Creatures-esque movie Fun. Since then, hes obviously been badly in need of a paycheck, having directed such, ahem, notables as National Lampoons Last Resort and the Christian horror movie Hangmans Curse. With Downtown, hes clearly hoping to get artistic credibility back again.
Cinematographer Ken Seng certainly earns points by making New York look as photogenic as can be, and Zielinski has managed to get a nice wide variety of locations. The film itself, however, adds nothing new to the street-kid genre, though Genevieve Bujold gives it her all as the angelic counselor to the hard-luck cases.
LETS ROCK AGAIN
This tight and rockin documentary follows Joe Strummer, former lead singer of The Clash, as he returns to the music world with new band the Mescaleros, shortly prior to his death in 2002 from a congenital heart condition.
Observing that going from hero to zero is good for the soul, Strummer meets throngs of adoring fans in Japan, hands out fliers for his own show on an Atlantic City boardwalk, shows up for a radio interview and is locked out until he mentions The Clash, and opines philosophically about his relative unimportance in the grand scheme of things. Hes full of life and extremely upbeat, with no indication that his health will shortly fail him dramatically.
We also get plenty of full-length songs from the Mescaleros, as well as a couple from The Clash for context. Cant say Ive ever been much of a fan of the music, but after watching this film, Im definitely a fan of Joe Strummer the man.
Okay, now the stuff I've seen since the fest began.
RAHTREE, FLOWER OF THE NIGHT
This movie really took me surprise, and despite the silly-sounding name, I highly recommend it. It was probably inevitable that the new wave of Asian horror would evolve towards comedy, and Thai writer-director Yuthlert Sippapak strikes a perfect balance, never undermining the scares with silliness but letting both coexist.
The movie begins like a summer romance type film, with narrator Ake (Kris Srepoomseth) reminiscing in voice over about the beautiful Buppah Rahtree (Chermarn Boonyasak), whom he compares to a great unread book. Slowly, he pursues her. She gradually gives in, and things culminate in a marathon three-day vacation fuck-a-thon. Then it turns out that Ake was only in it to win a bet among his spoiled friends as to who would deflower Rahtree first. Ake realizes that what he did was wrong, and begins to regret it, but is soon shipped off to graduate school in England by his stern parents.
Back home, Rahtree suffers a botched abortion and dies. The film's tone drastically shifts at this point, but perhaps not in the manner you might expect. When the police come to take her body away, the body bag kicks and twitches, then the door slams shut. Each time an officer tries to kick it in, one of his colleagues keels over in pain. The cowardly cops give up quickly, leaving Rahtree's haunted apartment as a problem for the landlady, who coincidentally makes money on the side via a phony exorcism scam. (There's a scene that's a note-for-note homage to The Exorcist late in the movie.)
Rahtree's ghost continues to act up much like the spirits of The Grudge, seriously fucking with those who dare enter the apartment, all the while waiting for Ake to return, which he eventually does, not knowing that the woman who greets him is nothing more than a phantom. But before Ake comes back, the landlady will hire several of the dumbest people in the world to try to rid the complex of the corpse. Particularly inept are the duo who run the local snack bar, one of whom appears to have Down's syndrome (the end credits feature numerous out-takes with this actor, but unfortunately they aren't subtitled).
In a Q&A after the film, director Sippapak said that he likes to mix comedy and horror because hardcore horror like Ju-On scares him too much. He said his primary inspiration was the Thai movie Nang Nak, which has been remade many times but is said to be a cursed story, in that every film-maker who does it sees their life go drastically downhill afterwards.
Anyway, fans of good horror-comedy should not miss Rahtree.
ONG BAK: THAI WARRIOR
This film features less plot than your average PS2 fighting game. A religious statue known as Ong Bak is stolen from a small village, and the town's resident Muay Thai expert is sent to the big city to find it. From there, the plot is approximately fight, fight, chase, fight, fight, fight, chase, fight, fight, fight, chase, fight, fight, fight several people at once, fight, escape.
What's really going on here is a showcase for 28-year-old Tony Jaa, a martial arts sensation who's hoping to bring attention to the art of Muay Thai (fans of the Street Fighter games will recognize this as the fighting style of villain Sagat), which is sort of a combination of kickboxing and cartwheels, at least as seen here. Jaa doesn't just kick ass in one-on-one battles -- he also gets some chase sequences where he proves as adept as Jackie Chan in leaping through small spaces and over things you wouldn't think he could clear. He doesn't play it for comedy like Chan, but he does use the Jean-Claude Van Damme technique of showing three takes in a row of some of the quicker moves.
My main complaint about the film is that it's poorly lit. This may just have been the AFI print, but it feels like you're watching the movie through amber.
On the plus side, Jaa did a live demonstration in the theater afterwards. The culmination of this was when he got his stunt team to form a human pyramid and hold aloft a tub of popcorn, at which point he lept into the air and did a backflip kick that showered the corn all over the floor.
As film-making, Ong Bak is disposable. But as the celluloid debut of a man with a bright future, it may be looked back on as an origin to remember.
Posted by LYT at 12:51 AM | Comments (2)
November 5, 2004
Catching up on a few things
Michael Moore has finally posted his response to the election...read it if you're feeling down.
I'm just going to say one more thing. Having lived in red states, I have this to say to the average red-state Bush voter:
Do you enjoy your secret collection of porno mags? Your Grand Theft Auto video games? Your gangsta rap CDs? Your R-rated action movie DVDS? That dime-bag of weed you scored from your buddy at work? The occasional shot of Jack Daniels? The fact that you can buy condoms to keep you from impregnating your girlfriend?
Enjoy 'em while you can. The guy you just voted for, who has undoubtedly enjoyed most of those same indulgences, would like nothing more than to take them from you.
That's all I'll say about that. Now back to me.
My Paxil ran out this week, so I went back to the doctor, and since my wheeze has not totally gone away, he's keeping me on it. As for the sex drive side effects, he's also given me Levitra (which is damned expensive at $9 a pill. But functional sex with someone who actually wants you is priceless), on the offchance I do meet someone I really connect with while still on the meds. In other good news, he says it's okay to drink while on Paxil. I have done so. Paxil and alcohol increase each other's effects, so I know now that if I feel okay to drive, I must be, because half of the buzz is just Paxil.
Also he gave me more Xanax, to be used only if I have a panic attack. That almost never happens, though in the second Bush term, anything is possible.
Halloween night I went to check out the West Hollywood parade, in a makeshift Sky Captain outfit. Most popular costumes this year were Captain Jack Sparrow and Ali G (the latter likely because gay men already own most of Ali G's wardrobe). Several variants on George Bush were present, the best being a giant Bush head with a straw up its nose and an oversized plate of cocaine lines made of cotton wool.
The Halloween mask rule still holds -- the candidate who sells the most masks always wins, and it was George this year.
Not so may super-elaborate costumes this year, but some of the best:
-A big silver baby being born out of a large glittery vagina
- A car from Disneyland's Haunted Mansion, with one tourist sitting beside two hitchhiking ghosts
- that surrealist painting of the guy with the apple in front of his face
- multiple tourists aboard a bus reading "Six Fags Tour Bus"
-a group of people in pink shirts and camo pants calling themselves "Swish Boats For Truth"
- Two bearded cheerleaders holding signs that read "Girlie Men for Bush/Cheney"
- A stupid piece of shit (i.e. a giant turd in a dunce cap)
Anyway, I stopped by Lucky McKee's pad on the way home, since I've spent the last two Halloweens with him, and it's become a tradition. Our pal Chris Sivertson (co-director of All Cheerleaders Die, and the director of the "Jack and Jill" student film seen in May) is currently hard at work shooting a movie called The Lost, based on a Jack Ketchum book, and I got to see some of the dailies, which look great.
I don't know the book, so I can't tell you exactly what it's about, besides the fact that it features a guy dressed in black named Ray who's a total nutcase like Dennis Hopper in Blue Velvet, and he fucks shit up. I'm hoping to visit the set soon, if one of my friends will actually get around to telling me where it is.
Posted by LYT at 2:26 AM | Comments (0)
November 4, 2004
Divine Write
My grandfather, a retired vicar in the Church of England, writes:
"I hear you're depressed. So are we, though perhaps not so severely. To-day's Guardian part two came out with the front cover all in black with just two words written on it in white: "O God!".
I think the vast majority of Europeans feel devastated by the result. I'm afraid that hatred of the Bush regime is tending to make many people throughout the world become Americanophobes. It's partly the size of his majority in the popular vote that has us worried. For me personally it's this terrible lesson that Christianity appears now to represent all that is backwood, irrational, selfish, greedy, patriarchal, homophobic and bellicose. I guess I could think up quite a few more adjectives. And I have to commit my thoughts on this for our very local paper, the Parish Magazine, for which I do a monthly article.
I suppose we must now expect war on Iran and North Korea as well as lots more bloodshed in Iraq.
Maybe John Kerry was the wrong man. I know the general view here was simply that anyone would be better than Bush.
At least among many of us there is intense sympathy for that half of the USA which did not want four more years of the same. Life must go on and our hope is that you may be able to produce some good and successful work in the year ahead. Whatever it looks like I believe firmly that in the end all will be well. "
Posted by LYT at 4:38 PM | Comments (5)
And now a few words from Bad Religion
They were written for the father, but they'll do even better for the son:
"i don't need to be a global citizen
because i'm blessed by nationality
i'm member of a growing populace
we enforce our popularity
there are things that
seem to pull us under
and there are things
that drag us down
but there's a power
and a vital presence
thats lurking all around
we've got the american Jesus
see him on the interstate
we've got the american Jesus
he helped build the
president's estate
i feel sorry
for the earth's population
'cuz so few
live in the U.S.A.
at least the foreigners
can copy our morality
they can visit but they cannot stay
only precious few
can garner the prosperity
it makes us walk
with renewed confidence
we've got a place to go when we die
and the architect resides right here
we've got the american Jesus
overwhelming millions every day
(exercising his authority)
he's the farmers barren fields
the force the army wields
the expression in the faces
of the starving children
the power of the man
he's the fuel that drives the clan
he's the motive and conscience
of the murderer
he's the preacher on t.v.
the false sincerity
the form letter that's written
by the big computers
he's the nuclear bombs
and the kids with no moms
and i'm fearful that
he's inside me"
Posted by LYT at 1:09 AM | Comments (0)
Anchorage Press review of The Incredibles
[Note: If you are reading this and your name is Brian T. Gaughan, you need to see this, like, yesterday]
It begins like the landmark Alan Moore-Dave Gibbons comic book Watchmen, with superheroes becoming a liability and the government forcing them to blend in and relinquish their heroics. It continues like a cross between a PG-rated Team America -- in which heroes disgraced for being too destructive end up having to save the day from even greater destruction -- and Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow, with a near-identical secret rocket-launching island lair for the villain (though since everything here is animated, the characters interact with the background more effectively).
But what The Incredibles resembles most is the X-Men sequel that still has yet to be made -- one in which mutant heroes with disparate powers face off in epic-scale battles with a giant menace attacking a major urban area, thereby delivering on the promise of so many cover-art pages. The action sequences here are so big and so effortless that you wonder why Jerry Bruckheimer and all his imitators cant muster up the ability to do things half as well. Not only is the movie action-packed, but youre kept fully aware of where every character is at all times: none of the choreography is unclear. Oh, and the movies also a comedy, with shades of The Specials, that James Gunn-penned low-budget spoof of superheroes engaged in domestic squabbles on their day off (seriously, rent that DVD if you can find it).
Bob Parr (voiced by Craig T. Nelson), formerly known as Mr. Incredible, now spends his days working for an insurance company, though he once saved the day from such master criminals as the French-accented Bomb Voyage (Dominique Louis). Still following a superheros moral compass, hes far too honest for his own good, secretly briefing hard-luck-cases on the loopholes they need to know in order to claim their settlements, thus losing money for the company. Wife Helen (Holly Hunter), formerly known as Elastigirl, keeps reining him in, hoping that he wont inadvertently reveal his super-strength and force yet another witness-relocation-type makeover that would disrupt their family. Children Dash (Spencer Fox) and Violet (Sarah Vowell...and thats Violet as in shrinking) have super-powers of their own, and must contend with the dilemma of being told to fulfill their potential while also hiding their abilities: super-speed and invisibility/force fields, respectively.
So when Bob receives a top-secret job offer that involves actually using his powers, he jumps at the chance but conceals the truth from his family. Of course its a set-up, a way to lure him to his demise at the hands of the villainous Syndrome (Jason Lee). If the film has a weakness, its that Syndrome isnt in it more -- he doesnt have many scenes, and most of the villainy is committed by his minions. Considering how loud-mouthed and scene-stealing Lee tends to be in most of his movies, this comes a surprise.
Those who know the work of writer-director Brad Bird from The Iron Giant wont be surprised at the successful balance between family dynamics and super-sized action. Those who know Pixar -- and thats pretty much all of us by now, Id say -- can take equal joy in the fact that the humor is just as sharp, loaded with sight-gags and knowing nods to every superhero clich (watch for the scene about the dangers of capes). Pixar can occasionally rely too much on stereotypes, for example theres always at least one grotesque-looking old person in everything they do, but here that character is voiced by Bird himself, and manages to transcend the obvious jokey faade.
Perhaps it should be mentioned that Samuel L. Jackson is in this movie too, playing a character who looks exactly like Samuel L. Jackson, named Lucius Frozone Best. Expect Dave Chappelle to have a ball impersonating this character, especially since Bird has managed to find an actress to play Bests wife who reads her lines exactly the same way Jackson does (I believe her names Elizabeth Greenberg. CORRECTION: actually Kimberly Clark. Thanks, readers!). WHEEEERE...is my SUPER SUIT? bellows Jackson, when the action starts heating up. WHYYYY...do you NEED...to KNOW? she hollers back. Its but one of many flourishes in a film flush with imagination.
Parents of sensitive kids should be warned, though: Death is presented unflinchingly, and there are several moments in which guns are pointed at children, something Steven Spielberg finds so offensive these days that he digitally re-touched similar scenes in E.T. to appear more benign. Regular audiences will also get a bonus we critics didnt: the first preview for Star Wars Episode III is supposed to be attached to prints of The Incredibles.
Posted by LYT at 12:45 AM | Comments (6)
November 3, 2004
On a lighter note
Check out THIS HILARIOUS STORY about possibly the dumbest evangelical Christian ever. The headline is straight out of The Onion, but it's real.
Posted by LYT at 6:19 PM | Comments (3)
November 2, 2004
Well, fuck
As of about 11:30 my time, some are calling it for Bush, but CNN and the Kerry campaign are saying it ain't over till Ohio counts the provisional ballots, 11 days from now. Looks grim for the good guys though. Bush has the edge in the popular vote, but I have a feeling that may change when all the west coast votes are counted.
If Bush finally wins the popular and electoral at the end of all this, I will stop calling him an unelected fraud. I will, however, keep calling him a fucknut. I will also briefly consider leaving the country, but probably not do so. Loving your country, to me, is a bit like loving a wife. Sickness and health, joy and sorrow, etc., unless she literally, willfully, and specifically tries to destroy your life, in which case you consider divorce.
Right now the country's most definitely "in sickness." My advice to the Democrats if they lose this in the end? Always pick a Southerner as your candidate. No New Englander can win in the South, ever.
The sane reaction right now would be to drink, but I can't because of the stupid Paxil.
Anyone for panic sex?
Posted by LYT at 11:43 PM | Comments (11)
I don't have a cool voting story
I just went down to my polling place, wearing a black hoodie like the Eminem video told me to, and voted. No line; just a little bit more crowded than non-presidential elections, which is what you'd expect in any year. Put the sticker on my forehead as usual.
Thassall. I'll try to catch you up on a few other happenings later.
Posted by LYT at 2:49 PM | Comments (1)
Why are you reading this when YOU SHOULD BE OUT VOTING?
Yes, the election is today. Go.
Don't like Bush or Kerry? Vote third party, or write in someone you do like.
Don't think it matters because you're in a "safe" state? That state is only safe because thousands of people do not take their vote for granted.
Think it'll interfere with your job? Employers have to let you vote.
Remember to bring your ID.
The main ostensible reason we haven't left Iraq yet is because there's a hope, however faint, that we can leave the people there with the right to vote. You already have it. Don't waste it.
Posted by LYT at 12:06 AM | Comments (0)