1%

"I'm writing about 'The Apartment' all week. problem is, it bores 99% of readers. The good thing? 1% love it. Never forget the 1%."

That was me, on Twitter two days ago. I'd never thought about that until I wrote it, but it's been playing on my side ever since. Blogging is like making a movie; you have an idea and then try and shape it into something that everyone will like.

But when you go chasing everyone, you don't truly grab anyone. But when you do what you truly want to do, even if it's for one person, that's when it means something. The problem is, when you do it for the 1%, there's not going to be a lot of support because it doesn't make a lot of business sense.

Film is about business. Every artist suffers. Even most great indie films have a rewritten beginning or a re-cut ending. We're always changing and adapting things to appeal to a bigger percentage. But when the percentage gets bigger, the true satisfaction gets smaller.

The stuff we truly and madly love is rarely the stuff that was made for everyone. You can cook yourself a perfect pie but if you're going to sell a lot of them, you need to package them differently; and you need a recipe that will appeal to everyone.

But that's the reality. That's the business. And we all cave. We take out the violent scene to get a lower rating, we hire the famous actor over the right actor to get the funding. By doing it-- we make a living. But we rarely make magic.

Magic is made when you do things for the 1%. It's just hard, is all.

Care to share?

Tweet

You Live Your Movie & I Shall Live Mine - Guest Writer Roxy May

There are writers who are good, writers who are great, and mostly; writers who are okay. And then you get someone like Roxy May, a writer with a bit of magic. Where she got it from, it's hard to know. Did she steal it? Does she deserve it? Does she know she has it? I don't really know the answers I just know that when she puts pen to paper it has the magic in it. I can say that about four people and one of them is Billy Wilder. What I like is that the things she says sound like real words and real feelings - not like somebody trying to come across like a good writer.

Roxy May is a 29 year old writer/director who spent time living and working in L.A and New York; but has now returned home to Dublin, Ireland, where she is writing her first feature screenplay. Keep an eye out for it..

You Live Your Movie & I Shall Live Mine
By Roxy May
Hey folks, so I’m the girl in the front row who steals the kid in the front row’s popcorn. Yes, I’m a girl and he’s a boy and that’s what we do to get attention; even if we are only 10 years old in our imaginations. I take some from him, he takes some from me, back and forth, hands grabbing every last buttery salty piece until the yellow bucket of yummy gold empties out and all we’re left with are just a few measly seeds that never got to pop. Suddenly as the trailers come to an end and the energy in the room grows silent with anticipation for the big presentation, the kid and I look to each other with one thought, “No more popcorn”. The game is officially over. The two kids couldn’t even wait for the movie to begin...
Some would say we were too hungry, some would say we were never taught how to be patient and some would simply say that's just. One minute you have something, the next you don't. But what if I was to opinionate that the popcorn we were stuffing our faces with was somewhat parallel to the chances we all courageously take to fulfill our dreams. That the life changing choices we take every day ultimately create our destiny that in turn ultimately produces and directs our very own movie’s for the world to see. You see, the popcorn always runs out but our imaginations are never ending seeds of magic.
You see this girl in the front row understands something. In her little fun creative carefree soul she knows deep down that every time she pays $15 to see a movie, she’s actually investing in her very own scripted feature film. You might want to read that once more. Basically until you understand the key importance of investment, in all areas in life, you will never understand life itself; Which is why both kids are always searching for the right moments to be taken, the right people to bump into, the right connections to be made and build on and above all the right door to open, so they can one day look back at their childhood lives and think wow, we really made it happen didn’t we. We really made our dreams come true. But what exactly does it take to make our hopes and desires a reality and why do so many people have a say in how we go about it, even if it makes our spirits soar?

The truth is everyone has different lives to live. Everyone has a different path to follow and unique ways to going about their purpose. It's OK if you don't know what your purpose is yet, but what ever you do keep searching for it. I guess what I'm trying to say is: my movie is always going to be different to the Kid In The Front Row's, my leading man (the man i hope to end up with) will be different to his leading woman, my scenes (my every day situations), my dialogue (my chit-chats with friends, conflicts and emotional times), even my ending (the day there's no more life to live) will always be my own.

There are millions of people roaming the earth with millions of thoughts going through their heads. Will I sell this new script I’m writing and working so hard on? Will I get this audition that could change my life forever and will I be happy with everything once I achieve it? But what’s the difference between somebody turning a thought into action and actually getting that step further to somebody throwing it all away because they didn't believe they could do it. It takes courage.

Fear is our only enemy.

Even if you’re not in show business and just wanna get the courage to propose to the woman you've always loved. What’s to say she won’t say yes? She may not like your beer belly or any annoying habits you may have but the way you make her heart skip a beat she may want that feeling inside her till she’s old and grey. Who knows? The only way you will know is if you try. And try never hurt anybody. It may be scary but the outcome is worth it in the end. That's the risks we must take.

Kid In The Front Row points out in his blogs each week how he will always keep trying to be creative, always keep trying to be his best and keep trying to achieve the success he wants even when people still manage not to understand where he’s coming from or what exactly he's trying to do. So what if he wants to be the next Steven Spielberg, if he’s not hurting anybody let him try. Do you think Bill Gates cared what others thought as he sat hours upon hours sitting in his bedroom playing around with his computer? He had a belief system that said over and over again “no matter what…I’m gonna do this,” even if the cool people are out hanging around street corners slagging him off behind my back. Who’s cool now eh? Just like Spielberg, Gates had a vision and just like his own movie executed his direction. He created his own script, edited his own scenes and shot his own footage by choices and decisions for his own good. For himself. So when somebody, a random old friend gets in touch on Facebook and asks you “hey buddy, what you up to these days” simply reply…”Oh you know, just doing my thing…building my dream, working hard to get there…(followed with a big smile).”

Nothing in life needs an explanation if you're on the right path and being a good person. This chick in the front row knows a thing or two about a thing or two and on her own personal quest to create stories worth talking about she thinks as she glances to her friend Kid In The Front Row….”So what if the popcorn's all gone, we’ve just invested 2 hours in our future…and that’s what it takes….” Meaning the seeds that turn into popcorn is the imagination in your mind, and once your imagination pops, the opportunities will always arise. Opportunities mean success and success means happiness. If that’s what you want to believe. Or you can be like me and start being happy now….and in my personal experience happiness means being in the moment, and pursuing what matters to you most and if you do what you love, the rest will surely follow.

Care to share?

Tweet

It's A Kind Of Magic - Why We MUST Keep Creating Work Again And Again And AGAIN.

This is something I've always kind of known but last night it really hit me with clarity after speaking with my friend Steve. Although, this is an anonymous blog, so let's call my friend George. So me and George were talking-- we were talking about our careers, he's an actor, I'm not an actor, I'm a Writer and Director. George is not a Writer or a Director, but an actor. Anyways, we were talking (this is the same conversation as I just mentioned, I don't want you to think this is a new discussion) and we were talking specifically about my films, and specifically about my new one but also the older ones, so I guess specifically those too.

Anyhow, he asked me if I was happy with my new film. And I said I was, although I said it in the present tense, it was more like "I am." But he could tell from my reaction that I wasn't a hundred percent. This surprised me, as I was actually trying to pull a face like Al Pacino at the time, just for fun. Anyways-- don't get me wrong, I love my new film. It's great, the actors are superb, the production value is high and there are some genuine laughs in it. But I have this feeling that it's not my best. And it's not that there's anything wrong with it, it just doesn't have that little bit of magic. I've made like ten short films in the past, and two of them have the magic. Everyone who sees them just falls in love with them. And if they don't fall in love, they at least have self-pleasure for five minutes. But regardless, there is something about them. And my friend Steve, I mean-- sorry, George.. he told me how his girlfriend and her friend act out part of my film whenever they're on a night out (don't worry, it's not a film about rape and murder, just laughs) and I took that as a huge compliment. It's hard to say how huge, but probably around the size of a medium steak.

The conversation stopped abruptly whilst I sipped on some tea. This only lasted for about four seconds, and then we carried on. I started rambling about 'magic' in movies. About how, you never really know. You could write a script that's the best script ever written, but it won't necessarily transpire as magic on the screen. There's something else that needs to happen. When Eric Roth wrote 'Forrest Gump' he didn't know that the line about chocolates would become one of the most famous lines of all time. You just never quite know what you're gonna get. For example, Cameron Crowe created movie magic with the 'Tiny Dancer' scene in 'Almost Famous' (the cast are together on a tour bus, singing the Elton John classic...) -- for whatever reason, it's just the most perfect scene you could ever imagine. Everyone who sees that movie remembers that scene. It's golden, it's magic. But then, fast-forward a few years (or just walk there slowly) and there's Crowe's film 'Elizabethtown.' I remember reading the script and absolutely loving the scene where Dunst's character and Bloom's character talk on the phone to each other - it's about fifteen pages long and it's funny, moving, compelling. I remember Crowe talking about the scene during production, talking about how amazing it would be. I guess the plan was that it would be another Tiny Dancer moment. It wasn't. It was pretty average, in fact - the whole of 'Elizabethtown' was pretty average. The point of the story is not that you need Elton John to make a scene work (although this idea could be explored) but that - films are like a box of chocolates, you never know what you're going to get.

And that's why we have to keep making them. That's why, when you show everyone that short film you did and the reaction of everybody is 'oh, that's cool' -- this isn't a sign that you can't captivate and excite them. It's a sign that, you didn't on this occasion. But there'll be others, you just have to keep searching for them. You have to keep writing. Keep creating things. This happens on a small level when you make a short film in your house with your cat and your parents, (it's called 'Kitty, I killed The Parents' - out soon on Blu-Ray) -- right up to when you're Kevin Smith and telling everyone 'Jersey Girl' is going to be the best thing you've ever done. You just never know.

"Uh well, I'll tell ya, I remember this one time - I'm in a Banshee at night in combat conditions, so there's no running lights on the carrier. It was the Shrangri-La, and we were in the Sea of Japan and my radar had jammed, and my homing signal was gone... because somebody in Japan was actually using the same frequency. And so it was - it was leading me away from where I was supposed to be. And I'm lookin' down at a big, black ocean, so I flip on my map light, and then suddenly: zap. Everything shorts out right there in my cockpit. All my instruments are gone. My lights are gone. And I can't even tell now what my altitude is. I know I'm running out of fuel, so I'm thinking about ditching in the ocean. And I, I look down there, and then in the darkness there's this uh, there's this green trail. It's like a long carpet that's just laid out right beneath me. And it was the algae, right? It was that phosphorescent stuff that gets churned up in the wake of a big ship. And it was - it was - it was leading me home. You know? If my cockpit lights hadn't shorted out, there's no way I'd ever been able to see that. So uh, you, uh, never know... what... what events are to transpire to get you home."

-Jim Lovell (Tom Hanks) in APOLLO 13

So what I am realizing more and more is that there is just this kind of magic thing out there in the atmosphere, or in your work, or maybe it's in Cardiff, Wales. Wherever it's located - it's out there, and nobody quite has their finger on it.. and this is the great consolation for when you cry yourself to sleep at night thinking "I am not as talented as Tarantino." Maybe you're not as talented as Tarantino -- but that's not the point. Because you could both write a screenplay tonight. His could be incredible - his usual hilarious, crazy madness. And yours could be a little bit confused and awkward. BUT, that magic essence; who knows, it could end up in your work. This is WHY we all have secret favourite movies (like 'You've Got Mail' or 'Duets' for me) - there's just something in there that grabs you, that speaks to you - and you can't plan for that. We don't know what it is. We just know we found it in books when we were children and we find it in people we meet on our way through life.

It's a spark, it's a thing -- it's real but we can't feel it. We just know it when we see it. We know it when we see it. So if you've written nineteen scripts and no-one cared about them, don't give in. Number twenty could have the magic in it, you'll have captured something real and put it out there for people to feel.

"But when the night is falling
you cannot find the light
If you feel your dreams are dying
Hold tight...

You've got the music in you
Don't let go
You've got the music in you
One dance left
This world is gonna pull through
Don't give up
You've got a reason to live
Can't forget
We only get what we give"

-New Radicals - "You Get What You Give"

Steve Martin was a stand-up comedian for ten years. For eight of those, nobody really 'got' him. Nothing was happening. The only constant thing is that he was still working, still going to clubs when, sometimes, there'd be literally three people in the audience. I guess the magic wasn't with him yet. And then one day, breakthrough--- almost overnight he was playing to full houses of 40,000 people. You just need to keep doing what you're doing, keep creating the work - stay true to yourself and show your work to as many people as you can, because one day, not too far from now - the magic is going to be there between the lines and you're going to capture the world.

Care to share?

Tweet

The Magic Of Music

The power of music in films is probably nothing new to you. Certainly, anyone who's ever been in an editing room has seen the difference a piece of music can make - turning a rather average scene into something full of energy, or full of emotion. Famously, Quentin Tarantino uses music to pull in the opposite direction of what you're seeing. 'Son Of A Preacher Man' in Pulp Fiction springs to mind.

On those rare occasions that I find a film that has truly become one of my all time favourites; it's usually a piece of music that clinches the deal. I remember seeing 'Juno' for the first time; and I absolutely loved it. But the real clincher was that last scene, as Juno peddled her way to Bleekers house. As they sat on the wall and sang 'Anyone Else But You' together - that was when I knew it was one of my favourite films.

I guess that's the most powerful point for a song, right at the ending. In a second you can change the meaning or feeling of a film, with the audience leaving the cinema a lot different to how they expected. One of the most powerful ways I've seen music end a film was with 'Harold And Maude,' a movie that I actually didn't love that much - but the last ten minutes were subtly touching and beautiful. For those of you that haven't seen it or don't remember; the last five minutes or so see Harold losing Maude to the tune of Cat Stevens' 'Trouble'. It's truly heartbreaking. The scenes of her passing away and Harold in the waiting room struggling to comprehend it are juxtaposed with him speeding away in his car. It ends with his car flying off a cliff and crashing to the ground. Up until this point it is a very sad yet very moving end to the film. But then the camera tilts up to reveal him on the edge of the cliff, Banjo in hand. What happens next is truly sublime.

He begins plucking away at his Banjo. And he picks out a bit of 'If You Want To Sing Out, Sing Out' -- and then the real version by Cat Stevens plays - Harold walks away from the camera, dancing about on the hillside whilst playing his Banjo as the credits begin to roll. Not only is it very moving, but strangely inspiring and uplifting - a complete reversal of the scenes before it. It's a true piece of movie magic.

Similarly, the film 'Rushmore' has an inspired ending. The film ends with the song 'Ooh La La' by The Faces, and it seems to inform the whole movie; it adds a different flavour to the film, right at the very end.

What fascinates me about these great examples is how they're not just great cinema or good choices, they transcend that.. they're examples that have stuck with me long after I saw them, there's something a little magic about them. Can filmmakers do this on purpose; can they KNOW how perfect a Cat Stevens song can fit, or can they only hope?. I always found Cameron Crowe to be incredible at hitting the right tone with music in his movies. Who can forget Paul McCartney's 'Singalong Junk' in Jerry Maguire when Jerry is fixing Dorothy's strap on the front porch, or perhaps more famously -- the band-in-the-bus sing-along of 'Tiny Dancer' in 'Almost Famous' or the elegant score of Nancy Wilson when William runs back to his Mother's car after agreeing to go to Morocco with Penny Lane.

But then Crowe made 'Elizabethtown'.

In interviews everywhere he kept talking about the importance of music in his movies, he even had a podcast explaining his music in the film. He flaunted this great skill he had everywhere -- take a look at this documentary, where he has that smug look on his face, - feeling very proud of his work - but the problem is, it doesn't work. I mean, sure, it works. The scenes have the effect he wants as a Director. But they don't reach the viewer in the way Springsteen's 'Secret Garden' did in 'Jerry Maguire' - they're simply functional. It was too much of a conscious effort by Crowe, and it just seems self-indulgent.

So I guess it only really works when it's by accident, or at least not as carefully executed as with the previous example. And I guess it's a really personal thing as well. Maybe the ending to Rushmore isn't all that great, it's just that 'Ooh La La' by The Faces happens to be one of my all time favourite songs. But sometimes things just fit - like all the 80's music in The Wrestler. The writer put those in the script, they were intended - apart from 'Sweet Child Of Mine' which Mickey Rourke wanted to use. And funnily enough, when you hear that tune in the film it is incredibly apt and moving-- more so than was probably expected.

Anyways, I'm going to carry on watching movies in the hopes that a piece of music moves me when I least expect it - because on those rare occasions that it happens, it's more powerful than any piece of dialogue. I leave you with a clip of my all time favourite scene with my favourite piece of film music. The film is Dito Montiel's 'A Guide To Recognizing Your Saints' - a film that throws its energy and ideas in a million different places (I mean this in a good way) -- but it's not until this scene that you realise what the film means to you. The beautiful piano music is unlike anything in the film up to that point, and along with the deceptively simple Directing and the astonishingly pitch-perfect acting performances; it's a scene that has always struck me as being perfect.

Care to share?

Tweet