Oh, how I've missed my civic!
When I said goodbye to my car on January 2nd in New York, I wondered what it would be like to see it finally arrive in California. Would it feel like the tail end of a musical montage of all the events of the last few weeks? Would my car arrive covered in bumper stickers from all the many places it had seen on it's journey? Or, would I be frustrated it took a week and half longer than expected, and angry to find my ipod ready stereo had been stolen from the dash? Actually, I was ecstatic to see my car, regardless of all the dirt, but definitely pissed off that I now have no stereo. I really don't know how to drive without music. Seriously.
As for other updates, I saw a little of downtown L.A. this weekend in the form of an art gallery. Ooh Culture. This guy Murakami (not the beloved writer), who is well-known for his commercial pop-art had a showing of his life's work in a warehouse. It was located in Little Tokyo, where I also enjoyed some delicious sushi! I also shot another exercise for class. And it rained a whole lot.
Shooting at my new school involves a lot more paperwork then say, Hofstra. Ah Hofstra, where I could make a film simply by saying, "Michael Behr, I'm going to wrap you in Tin Foil." Or simply have Behr-Bot smash Brad over the head with a 2x4, or get a girl to be nude for the sake of art, or to tie another girl to a tree while the Behr Bot gouges out Greg's intestines... All with no paperwork needed. I used to believe that "REQUIRE CHEESE FRIES" was the pinnacle of my film making career. A part of me still thinks it always will be. If you've never seen my artistic opus, you are missing out.
The best part of the week had to be on Saturday, when I peered out onto the patio, and watch the rain splash down on a mysterious brown package. I grabbed the soft, soaked box and tore it open to find my first care package from the immortal Ian Smith. Inside were lots of activities, a photo of the squirrel Nutsmouth, that we found in Boston, and a copy of SpaceGhost: Coast-to-Coast on dvd. From that moment on my day was filled with joy and glee.
Care packages, they really are the greatest thing in the world... (Please note I'm not pandering for care packages.) (maybe a little).
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Friday, January 25, 2008
omg! Updates!
How about those Giants?
For some reason I've really become excited by the NFL playoffs this year. Of course, it happens from time-to-time, but it certainly made for an exciting Sunday. As I watched the game in a room full of people rooting against the Patriots and the Giants, I came away as the sole celebrator! Hmmm, maybe I should try and be more friendly to my new Californian peers, and not pour salt into their football wounds, nah! Besides, the Giants going to the Super Bowl make this displaced New Yorker pulsate with pride! Besides, I'm missing so many Islander games (though they haven't done to spectacular in my absence) I need someone to root for. Though NHL allstar game and skills competition is this weekend!
After the games, and some margaritas, a few of us went to catch Cloverfield. There have been reports of this film, all shot with a hand held camera, was making audience members vomit. I felt unconcerned and with a belly full of chips and margaritas decided to kill time before the movie by having a Pinkberry... What's a Pinkberry you ask? Why it's a frozen yogurt, but not the kind that became all the rage in the mid 1990's. This is actually yogurt, served like soft-ice cream and you choose all sorts of fresh fruit or cereals to mix into it. This was actually my second helping in two days. It's that good.
It turns out that it wasn't that good. My stomach felt woozy as we found our seats for the film. And before long, I was taken out of enjoying the movie to a gripping nausea. I had to actually advert my eyes to the ceiling at times, and pray that I would not vomit on the lap of the two girls sitting on each side of me. That's really not the kind of early first impression you want to leave on people. Though I would have been memorable... Maybe I should have done it. If I ever go back in time, I will. You have my word...
As for Cloverfield, I actually enjoyed it, barring the nausea. It actually had the semblance of a story, which I at least was engaged enough in to accept the monster attack on Manhattan. I wouldn't sit through it again, but for one night it was just what the doctor ordered. Again, except for the nausea.
The rest of the week has been eventful in the sense I've been busy with school projects. For some wonderful reason I seem to been on a creative kick, and have been coming up with story ideas for short films, and writing profusely. In fact, it seems not having a job for a week or two while I get into the flow of school also seems like just what the doctor ordered! Turns out to feel good, I just need to be a student forever.
I shot my first exercise over at Greg's the other night, and it came out decent, for an in-camera-editing assignment. We couldn't use sound or edit, so it had to be shot in order. It was fun working with Greg because it turns out he's a very good actor, and it was a definite throw back to TCH days in the 'stra... better known as Hofstra.
Not much else to report, this weekend I'm shooting my second exercise, and prepping for my first short film project. Meanwhile I'm writing, and exploring the town. Also debating which day of Cochella I should attend in late April... huge music fest, lots of great bands, I'm leaning towards Saturday due to Portishead and Deathcab being the headliners!
One of these days I'll add pictures to this blog. Wouldn't that be visually stimulating?
For some reason I've really become excited by the NFL playoffs this year. Of course, it happens from time-to-time, but it certainly made for an exciting Sunday. As I watched the game in a room full of people rooting against the Patriots and the Giants, I came away as the sole celebrator! Hmmm, maybe I should try and be more friendly to my new Californian peers, and not pour salt into their football wounds, nah! Besides, the Giants going to the Super Bowl make this displaced New Yorker pulsate with pride! Besides, I'm missing so many Islander games (though they haven't done to spectacular in my absence) I need someone to root for. Though NHL allstar game and skills competition is this weekend!
After the games, and some margaritas, a few of us went to catch Cloverfield. There have been reports of this film, all shot with a hand held camera, was making audience members vomit. I felt unconcerned and with a belly full of chips and margaritas decided to kill time before the movie by having a Pinkberry... What's a Pinkberry you ask? Why it's a frozen yogurt, but not the kind that became all the rage in the mid 1990's. This is actually yogurt, served like soft-ice cream and you choose all sorts of fresh fruit or cereals to mix into it. This was actually my second helping in two days. It's that good.
It turns out that it wasn't that good. My stomach felt woozy as we found our seats for the film. And before long, I was taken out of enjoying the movie to a gripping nausea. I had to actually advert my eyes to the ceiling at times, and pray that I would not vomit on the lap of the two girls sitting on each side of me. That's really not the kind of early first impression you want to leave on people. Though I would have been memorable... Maybe I should have done it. If I ever go back in time, I will. You have my word...
As for Cloverfield, I actually enjoyed it, barring the nausea. It actually had the semblance of a story, which I at least was engaged enough in to accept the monster attack on Manhattan. I wouldn't sit through it again, but for one night it was just what the doctor ordered. Again, except for the nausea.
The rest of the week has been eventful in the sense I've been busy with school projects. For some wonderful reason I seem to been on a creative kick, and have been coming up with story ideas for short films, and writing profusely. In fact, it seems not having a job for a week or two while I get into the flow of school also seems like just what the doctor ordered! Turns out to feel good, I just need to be a student forever.
I shot my first exercise over at Greg's the other night, and it came out decent, for an in-camera-editing assignment. We couldn't use sound or edit, so it had to be shot in order. It was fun working with Greg because it turns out he's a very good actor, and it was a definite throw back to TCH days in the 'stra... better known as Hofstra.
Not much else to report, this weekend I'm shooting my second exercise, and prepping for my first short film project. Meanwhile I'm writing, and exploring the town. Also debating which day of Cochella I should attend in late April... huge music fest, lots of great bands, I'm leaning towards Saturday due to Portishead and Deathcab being the headliners!
One of these days I'll add pictures to this blog. Wouldn't that be visually stimulating?
Friday, January 18, 2008
A Long Time Ago, In A Film School Far, Far Away…
It’s kind of weird to think of how important George Lucas is to my career path suddenly. In fact, it’s weird to walk down the halls of my production class building and see countless movie posters from Zemeckis, Ron Howard (“Hey Homer, we’re out of vodka”), Lucas, and some guy name Spiel-something-or-other berg. It’s humbling and at the same time kind of ridiculous, like dinosaurs. Seriously, how dumb are dinosaurs, and the entire concept of them? Giant monsters wandering around, it’s so stupid! But I digress… I know, Jurassic Park! Special effects by ILM! Lucas! Film School! Ah ha! There I am!
Week two in L.A. was primarily spent at school. I think my next 6 semesters will primarily be spent running from classes, to the production office, to casting calls, shoots, and most likely, many an eternity in the editing lab. Yes, it’s that fucking awesome. In one week of classes we have already been submerged in the art of storytelling, learning how to use the camera, and learning the trade of actually directing actors, we even had the opportunity to watch USC drama students audition for the film school.
I’m walking around in daze, because I’m trying to balance living life with the flood of short film ideas I’m having. It’s hard to believe a year ago I felt so stifled and far away from what I thought was my path. Not that I haven’t already felt some stress. I get kind of carried away with my ideas and plans and suddenly feel the lack of time available to make my visions a reality. Not so different from my teaching days, when I would be spinning so many plates at once, both how to teach the novels in interesting and effective ways, and trying to write, going to grad school, etc. Only now, it’s all focused on filmmaking. Though my teaching story has been my identity when introducing myself to students and professors. When they ask why I left teaching, I like to assure them that working with the kids was priceless, it was the just the rest of the crap that kept me unsatisfied. So remember kids, you rocked.
In other news, I had my first shift at Hollywood Borders. It turned out to be my last shift as well! Part of the problem is I have barely any availability… remember how I’m at school so much? Plus, production-wise, I will pretty much be working on a project a week, which takes up weekends. Apparently this didn’t gel. No love like at my Stony Brook store, where wacky schedule requests were no problem. Sigh. So once again, I am jobless. I’m never going to be able to shave my unemployment beard. Or is it my cinematic artiste beard now? I forget.
Speaking of artiste, my production professor, who is originally from France, and has directed many features, mentioned in passing that she learned under the European school of directing, which meant mentorship. She happened to have worked under Trufaut for a few years… Holy shit! If you understand the grandness of this you are either up on world cinema, or a pretentious Michael Cassidy.
I joined a gym by my still roomy apartment (though I’m happy to report my t.v. and xbox360 have made it, and my blanket, ah old friends.) The gym is decent, but has terrible parking conditions during the prime hours of 4:30-8:00 pm. To make up for it, they offer valet parking.
One night, I decided to take them up on their ultra fancy offer, and let them park my car. I went in, had a killer workout for a few hours, bought myself a delectable peanut butter protein shake, and handed the guy at the umbrella stand my ticket. As the minutes went by, and more and more people came out and got their cars, I started to wonder what was going on. I asked if they had my car yet, and I was assured it was on the way. About 10 or 12 more people came and went away in their cars, and my sweaty shorts and shirt were freezing over in the winds of the night. I asked again about my car. There seemed to be some confusion, then a conference amongst the valets in Spanish. I thought back to 7th grade Spanish, when my teacher Mr. Murray pointed out one of the crude cartoons in the text book of a guy and girl on a bench made it seem like the young happy man saying “Me llamo Javier” was feeling up the girl. Needless to say this did nothing to help me understand where the hell my car was. The valet suggested I walk up to the roof of the near by Best Buy, where the parking lot for the cars was located. Apparently there was some confusion as to wear my key was. So, I walked up the ramp, into more breezes, my damp gym wear now positively freezing. The next batch of Valets saw me and looked away and continued to mumble in Spanish. I walked over to my rental P.T. Cruiser (my civic should be here this week…I hope). One of the valets walked around my car, then dropped to his stomach to look under the car.
“We lost the key,” he said.
“Oh.” I replied. I didn’t want to yell, but I did want to go home. I was cold, damn it.
“We could drive you home.” He offered.
“Well, see, it’s a rental car. So I don’t have another key.”
“Rental car? Oh. The one across the street?”
“No. The one at LAX.” Which of course is 8 miles away.
“Oh.”
“Yeah. So you need to find that key.” I was quite calm, just sat down against a parking lot light, and waited another fifteen minutes. In that time, I told my story to Greg on the phone, and decided not to tip them if they found my key.
They found my key. It was in one of their pockets.
The moral of the story is either never valet park at a gym, or pray my Civic comes to L.A. soon. I’m so done with the P.T. Cruiser.
My first trip back to the East Coast will be February 28th… to BUFFALO, NEW YORk! Wooh? Yes, Michael Behr is getting married and I’m flying in for about 24 hours, to wear a tux, build a snowman, and eat some chicken. My next return remains to be determined… hopefully my goal for late June will work out. We shall see.
Well, it’s time to prepare for the weekend… probably going to see Cloverfield, even though I’m sure it will be lame. I have tons of production prep work to do, and tomorrow is Champagne Brunch, that’s brunch and five dollars all you can drink champagne. Interesting town, this Los Angeles…
Also, please send me as many short film ideas a possible! I fear I may be a hack.
Also, send stuff to decorate my apartment. Or fly out and visit. Even though I will probably be too busy to entertain you. Well, if I like you enough, maybe I’ll make time.
We’ll do lunch.
Week two in L.A. was primarily spent at school. I think my next 6 semesters will primarily be spent running from classes, to the production office, to casting calls, shoots, and most likely, many an eternity in the editing lab. Yes, it’s that fucking awesome. In one week of classes we have already been submerged in the art of storytelling, learning how to use the camera, and learning the trade of actually directing actors, we even had the opportunity to watch USC drama students audition for the film school.
I’m walking around in daze, because I’m trying to balance living life with the flood of short film ideas I’m having. It’s hard to believe a year ago I felt so stifled and far away from what I thought was my path. Not that I haven’t already felt some stress. I get kind of carried away with my ideas and plans and suddenly feel the lack of time available to make my visions a reality. Not so different from my teaching days, when I would be spinning so many plates at once, both how to teach the novels in interesting and effective ways, and trying to write, going to grad school, etc. Only now, it’s all focused on filmmaking. Though my teaching story has been my identity when introducing myself to students and professors. When they ask why I left teaching, I like to assure them that working with the kids was priceless, it was the just the rest of the crap that kept me unsatisfied. So remember kids, you rocked.
In other news, I had my first shift at Hollywood Borders. It turned out to be my last shift as well! Part of the problem is I have barely any availability… remember how I’m at school so much? Plus, production-wise, I will pretty much be working on a project a week, which takes up weekends. Apparently this didn’t gel. No love like at my Stony Brook store, where wacky schedule requests were no problem. Sigh. So once again, I am jobless. I’m never going to be able to shave my unemployment beard. Or is it my cinematic artiste beard now? I forget.
Speaking of artiste, my production professor, who is originally from France, and has directed many features, mentioned in passing that she learned under the European school of directing, which meant mentorship. She happened to have worked under Trufaut for a few years… Holy shit! If you understand the grandness of this you are either up on world cinema, or a pretentious Michael Cassidy.
I joined a gym by my still roomy apartment (though I’m happy to report my t.v. and xbox360 have made it, and my blanket, ah old friends.) The gym is decent, but has terrible parking conditions during the prime hours of 4:30-8:00 pm. To make up for it, they offer valet parking.
One night, I decided to take them up on their ultra fancy offer, and let them park my car. I went in, had a killer workout for a few hours, bought myself a delectable peanut butter protein shake, and handed the guy at the umbrella stand my ticket. As the minutes went by, and more and more people came out and got their cars, I started to wonder what was going on. I asked if they had my car yet, and I was assured it was on the way. About 10 or 12 more people came and went away in their cars, and my sweaty shorts and shirt were freezing over in the winds of the night. I asked again about my car. There seemed to be some confusion, then a conference amongst the valets in Spanish. I thought back to 7th grade Spanish, when my teacher Mr. Murray pointed out one of the crude cartoons in the text book of a guy and girl on a bench made it seem like the young happy man saying “Me llamo Javier” was feeling up the girl. Needless to say this did nothing to help me understand where the hell my car was. The valet suggested I walk up to the roof of the near by Best Buy, where the parking lot for the cars was located. Apparently there was some confusion as to wear my key was. So, I walked up the ramp, into more breezes, my damp gym wear now positively freezing. The next batch of Valets saw me and looked away and continued to mumble in Spanish. I walked over to my rental P.T. Cruiser (my civic should be here this week…I hope). One of the valets walked around my car, then dropped to his stomach to look under the car.
“We lost the key,” he said.
“Oh.” I replied. I didn’t want to yell, but I did want to go home. I was cold, damn it.
“We could drive you home.” He offered.
“Well, see, it’s a rental car. So I don’t have another key.”
“Rental car? Oh. The one across the street?”
“No. The one at LAX.” Which of course is 8 miles away.
“Oh.”
“Yeah. So you need to find that key.” I was quite calm, just sat down against a parking lot light, and waited another fifteen minutes. In that time, I told my story to Greg on the phone, and decided not to tip them if they found my key.
They found my key. It was in one of their pockets.
The moral of the story is either never valet park at a gym, or pray my Civic comes to L.A. soon. I’m so done with the P.T. Cruiser.
My first trip back to the East Coast will be February 28th… to BUFFALO, NEW YORk! Wooh? Yes, Michael Behr is getting married and I’m flying in for about 24 hours, to wear a tux, build a snowman, and eat some chicken. My next return remains to be determined… hopefully my goal for late June will work out. We shall see.
Well, it’s time to prepare for the weekend… probably going to see Cloverfield, even though I’m sure it will be lame. I have tons of production prep work to do, and tomorrow is Champagne Brunch, that’s brunch and five dollars all you can drink champagne. Interesting town, this Los Angeles…
Also, please send me as many short film ideas a possible! I fear I may be a hack.
Also, send stuff to decorate my apartment. Or fly out and visit. Even though I will probably be too busy to entertain you. Well, if I like you enough, maybe I’ll make time.
We’ll do lunch.
Sunday, January 13, 2008
Left Coast Thief!
One week down.
For starters, I’m attempting to keep a regular blog about all things relating to my experience of living in Los Angeles. My hopes are it will be a little entertaining, a little informative, and a way to keep people abreast of what I’m doing in both film school and life! Ideally, you will read, comment, and realize that the best way to hear about me and my life is to call, message, or Email me! HINT HINT HINT.
About a week ago, I arrived in Los Angeles, California, carrying over-stuffed bags, and a scarf. It was pouring rain, and kind of chilly. The complete opposite of the sunny southern California I was promised. There were thoughts of hopping another fight to a more dependable climate, like London, England, but this was an awfully silly idea, so I went to the car rental place instead.
My Civic is currently on route to L.A. It’s coming by train! I can only imagine what kind of wonderful adventures it’s having.
Thankfully, Greg and Rich were nice enough to offer me a futon to sleep on as I commenced my search for an apartment. I found out that night, a one bedroom opened up in my friend Josh’s apartment. When I would visit Josh, we would joke about me living across the walkway, so the timing couldn’t be more perfect. However, it was more than I hoped to pay for an apartment, so I spent the next two days checking out other places around Los Angeles. What I found sucked. A few were decent enough, but were expensive for studios, and none could guarantee a parking spot. A parking spot is worth more than kitchen in my opinion. Parking here is a bitch.
The most intriguing place I found was a peculiar cluster of gothic towers and huts complex, originally built by Charlie Chaplin. I found this oddity, nestled within a nice West Hollywood neighborhood. I waked under a wooden trestle, that lead me on curving paths around hills of mud and grass, creating a courtyard for the towers. It was nothing like I’ve ever seen. I had to live here. Fortunately, the landlord never called me back. Why fortunately? As a child I had an intense fear of Charlie Chaplin, and more than likely his ghost haunts these grounds. The chances of me being beaten to death by his rickety cane were pretty high.
I ended up taking the apartment across from my friend Josh. Mostly because it has a parking spot! Also, it’s a decent location (only 7 miles from school), lots of room, a very accommodating place for visitors to stay, HINT HINT HINT. But really, if you want to visit, or just need a place to stay, let me know!
Of course I had moments of panic, and homesickness. One cure though was found at the Culver City Ice Rink, a few minutes down the road. I pulled in, just to take a look at the rickety rink (reminds me of Superior Ice Rink in Kingspark for you Long Island folk), that was probably quite state-of-the-art in the early 80’s, What timing for my visit., I stepped inside to witness a pickup game of hockey in action. Just knowing I had place where I could play made me feel a lot better.
Other than that I spent some time hanging out with my friends here, watched some movies, went to some bars. I even got a part-time job secured. I guess that’s all there is …
Oh and that whole USC School of Cinematic Arts thing…
Yeah, so USC is a beautiful campus, compete with a fancy collegiate buildings, ivy, and best of all, the Cinema School. On Friday, we had our orientation meeting at the LUCAS building, next to the Spielberg Scoring Stage, down a block from the Zemeckis building…
…And let’s just say, they made no secret about it, this isn’t just starting school,, this is about all of us starting a career in cinema. They gave us a presentation of what to expect from the next few years, some do’s and don’ts in production class… some of the do’s include our own access to stunt actors and a fire marshal… if only I didn’t want to write dramatic character-driven-existential-digressions on monotony stories. I need to fit in some fire and fights. Because I can. But seriously, they live up to their reputation, or at least on the first day they made us believe we can really make it, and this is just the beginning.
In the coming days and weeks I’ll be adding photos and sharing anecdotes about my discoveries and stuff.
Stay tuned this week for:
Jeff goes to class
Jeff works in Hollywood! (Don’t get too excited, it’s actually a job at Borders) because some things don’t change, whichever coast I’m on.
And…
Jeff dates starlets!
Or at the very least, innocently stalks them!
For starters, I’m attempting to keep a regular blog about all things relating to my experience of living in Los Angeles. My hopes are it will be a little entertaining, a little informative, and a way to keep people abreast of what I’m doing in both film school and life! Ideally, you will read, comment, and realize that the best way to hear about me and my life is to call, message, or Email me! HINT HINT HINT.
About a week ago, I arrived in Los Angeles, California, carrying over-stuffed bags, and a scarf. It was pouring rain, and kind of chilly. The complete opposite of the sunny southern California I was promised. There were thoughts of hopping another fight to a more dependable climate, like London, England, but this was an awfully silly idea, so I went to the car rental place instead.
My Civic is currently on route to L.A. It’s coming by train! I can only imagine what kind of wonderful adventures it’s having.
Thankfully, Greg and Rich were nice enough to offer me a futon to sleep on as I commenced my search for an apartment. I found out that night, a one bedroom opened up in my friend Josh’s apartment. When I would visit Josh, we would joke about me living across the walkway, so the timing couldn’t be more perfect. However, it was more than I hoped to pay for an apartment, so I spent the next two days checking out other places around Los Angeles. What I found sucked. A few were decent enough, but were expensive for studios, and none could guarantee a parking spot. A parking spot is worth more than kitchen in my opinion. Parking here is a bitch.
The most intriguing place I found was a peculiar cluster of gothic towers and huts complex, originally built by Charlie Chaplin. I found this oddity, nestled within a nice West Hollywood neighborhood. I waked under a wooden trestle, that lead me on curving paths around hills of mud and grass, creating a courtyard for the towers. It was nothing like I’ve ever seen. I had to live here. Fortunately, the landlord never called me back. Why fortunately? As a child I had an intense fear of Charlie Chaplin, and more than likely his ghost haunts these grounds. The chances of me being beaten to death by his rickety cane were pretty high.
I ended up taking the apartment across from my friend Josh. Mostly because it has a parking spot! Also, it’s a decent location (only 7 miles from school), lots of room, a very accommodating place for visitors to stay, HINT HINT HINT. But really, if you want to visit, or just need a place to stay, let me know!
Of course I had moments of panic, and homesickness. One cure though was found at the Culver City Ice Rink, a few minutes down the road. I pulled in, just to take a look at the rickety rink (reminds me of Superior Ice Rink in Kingspark for you Long Island folk), that was probably quite state-of-the-art in the early 80’s, What timing for my visit., I stepped inside to witness a pickup game of hockey in action. Just knowing I had place where I could play made me feel a lot better.
Other than that I spent some time hanging out with my friends here, watched some movies, went to some bars. I even got a part-time job secured. I guess that’s all there is …
Oh and that whole USC School of Cinematic Arts thing…
Yeah, so USC is a beautiful campus, compete with a fancy collegiate buildings, ivy, and best of all, the Cinema School. On Friday, we had our orientation meeting at the LUCAS building, next to the Spielberg Scoring Stage, down a block from the Zemeckis building…
…And let’s just say, they made no secret about it, this isn’t just starting school,, this is about all of us starting a career in cinema. They gave us a presentation of what to expect from the next few years, some do’s and don’ts in production class… some of the do’s include our own access to stunt actors and a fire marshal… if only I didn’t want to write dramatic character-driven-existential-digressions on monotony stories. I need to fit in some fire and fights. Because I can. But seriously, they live up to their reputation, or at least on the first day they made us believe we can really make it, and this is just the beginning.
In the coming days and weeks I’ll be adding photos and sharing anecdotes about my discoveries and stuff.
Stay tuned this week for:
Jeff goes to class
Jeff works in Hollywood! (Don’t get too excited, it’s actually a job at Borders) because some things don’t change, whichever coast I’m on.
And…
Jeff dates starlets!
Or at the very least, innocently stalks them!
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