SAGIndie

So Scott and I finally emerged from the pits of despair after Paul’s last day, only to find DMG had a remarkably speedy recovery from said trauma and has lit off to celebrate her holiday somewhere very warm and exciting, promising “Presents when I get back!!” on her way out the door, laughing all the way to the airport, I’m sure, as she thinks of us huddled like the little match girl in our meat locker of an office. Ah, yes. Happy Holidays indeed.

Despite the abundance of alcohol this time of year (I like gin, Scott likes scotch - in case you’re short on gift ideas) and the ready availability of it, we’ve managed to stay stomach pump free just long enough to toil away at figuring out who we can hire to hang out with us at Sundance. As a gift to you (Mom), I promise a daily update, at least until the end of the week, when we will be officially entering hibernation until 2 January.

And, finally, a message to “Jimmy” from the LA County Prison: I’m not going to tell you again, we cannot accept any more of your collect calls. It’s good to know, though, that you have enough free time to call us several times a day!!

PS: Your shiv’s in the mail.

Maybe it’s the bathtub gin going to my head (again), but first I was convinced to see Casino Royale this weekend (I know, right?), but on top of that I actually found myself reconsidering my previous dismissal of Daniel Craig as too similar that thing that chased Sonny Bono and Julia-Louis Dreyfuss around in that movie…what was it called? Oh, right. Troll. But then, somehow, I was convinced to attend an action movie (ew!). An action movie that I actually ended up liking! Starring a man, though not as masculine as my all-time favorite, I now find oddly alluring.

…and then I found this: Bond 22: Electric Boogaloo? (The Gay One)

Lord knows I don’t want to upstage our fearless leader’s departure but he’s trained me to fear being fired if I don’t blog promptly so….here goes:

(Read with a dramatic Movietones voice):

Around 250 people convened up at St. Malachy’s Church’s Actor’s Chapel in Midtown Manhattan for a lively panel discussion about how actors can create their own projects and their own breaks in the industry. Panelists Charles Busch, Michael Showalter, Cynthia Katz of The Artist’s Group East, and Amy Dotson of IFP had great advice for the packed room. Lead by Michael Sládek, SAGIndie’s man in

New York

who is also a SAG member and a director/producer/writer, the panelists waxed about their own views on actors taking their careers in to their own hands and how to navigate the industry successfully.

Actor/Writer/Directors Busch, Showalter, and Sládek all spoke of their personal backgrounds making the leap from struggling actors to hyphenates creating their own projects to various ends. Ms. Katz gave great advice regarding actors in the agency world while Ms. Dotson answered questions regarding IFP and the process of developing projects in the industry.

And yes, I did write this as if it weren’t actually me writing it. Creepy huh?

Today I woke up in an uncharacteristically positive mood. The first thing I look at this morning is FIND’s Independent Spirit Awards Nominations, which got me excited for the films that I really enjoyed and also gave me a list of films to see in the next few months. The delectation was depressingly short lived, though, because one mercilessly rude awakening was only a click away. (Check the link only if you’re immune to that panicky feeling of watching your childhood heroes refuse to keep sacred the last shred of dignity they had!!) Billy “Rebel Yell” Idol is the new David “Hooked on a Feelin” Hasselhoff? Can’t wait to drunkenly sway to this at my next family Christmas gathering! Hmmm.

Then I found out that the old bags at TV Land have come up with what they consider the 100 Greatest Catchphrases. They really should have left it at 50 greatest, because they really seem to be stretching it with some. It almost appears as though they came up with 70 good ones and then panicked and hastily flipped through television and scribbled down the first remotely catchy thing. How is “Holy crap!” more recognizable than “We were on a break?!?” And when you think of the Brady Bunch, does your mind go first to “Oh, my nose.” or “Marcia, Marcia, Marcia!”? Or are you lucky enough that you don’t think of the Brady clan in the first place?

And then I saw this. It makes me feel a little better about my shortcomings, and that’s all I need.

*Scott and I have been the unfortunate recipients of can only be described as that nasty, lingering for three weeks kind of cold. Because of that, I am going to allow him to do all the heavy lifting, including the sure to be inspiring eulogy of Mr. Altman who, as I’m sure everyone knows by now, has sadly passed away. I, on the other hand, will take a cue from Defamer, and give you this, in addition to the little tidbits I have picked up today:

*The Self Reliant Filmmmaking blog also has quite a few people asking to recommend books, only he is smart enought to direct people to the amazon.com store he made. Books, check ‘em out!

*This I found mildly amusing, but as I’m not a real viewer or any of these shows, I’m left whining about the lack of “JAM” and remembering how I couldn’t wait to see what happened to Seth.

*Et tu, Mike Watt? Et tu?

*By her looks, I thought this was the mom, but it’s not. Introducing the Littlest Lohan!

Sniff.

Film Threat has finally released this year’s list of the “coldest” celebrities. Oh shit, son!

The Five People You Meet at an Industry Party, Part One:

New to the scene and unsure of how to navigate the very murky, very shallow waters of the most super of all superficiality - the industry party? The city we live in has been called a number of vaguely irritating things - Hollyweird, La-La Land, but they’re all pretty true. Crazy people flock to LA like those under the employ of SAGIndie flock to an open bar. Sure, watching Entourage will help, I guess, but it would sure behoove you to read this handy guide! Thank me later.

1. A well dressed, but sort of scary looking septuagenarian that may have been a suit at one time: He may be rich-ish and powerful (enough), but that suspicious trail of sawdust he’s leaving is there to warn you that the dude is old! He’s most likely not going to help you in any way (even if he still had pull), and you’re going to have old man smell on you for days. Fellate at your own risk.

2. The Hanger-On (or person of no consequence): If you are reading this, you will most likely fall into this category. They are the person who got lucky by either having a cool job on the fringes of the industry, or a lame job in the center or the industry, or your run of the mill person that happens to know someone who knows someone who knows someone. Sometimes they are aspiring actors/filmmakers/industry bloggers, sometimes they’re just along for the ride. The specific species of this genus will be discussed in detail later. Aside from the fact that it’s just better to be nice to everyone, seriously, be nice to these people because you never know when you will mistake one for:

3. The Guy you think is a hanger-on, and sort of diss, but then get to work and see his face in the trades: Damn it, damn it, damn it!

4. The person you really want to meet: If they are a star, they will be even better looking than you could hope, if they are a suit they will be uglier than you would dare to assume. As a side note, extreme good looks help, but don’t guarantee anything - I didn’t get anywhere with Nick Cannon! Quelle horreur! My advice? Skip this person. Why suffer the injustice of watching their eyes glaze over halfway through your pitch or plea for a date, etc. Besides, if you take the time to do a lap around the party, you will fall in love at least seven times, and that number only gets higher with each drink consumed, which brings us to:

5. The bartender: If you are anything like me, you will spend more time with this person than you will with your date. Keep in mind that this relationship ends at last call. They have seen how much you drink and have watched you fumble each advance. They know you’re lame. But you know what? They only know all this because they’re a bartender. At least you got into the party.

And in news that I don’t actually care about, but am sure someone, somewhere does:

The Wachowski brothers are resurrecting a beloved childhood cartoon for their next project.

Matrix nerds, cartoon lovers and appreciators of kitsch rejoice the world over!

All the fun of pumpkin carving and none of the guts.

Independent film is neither independent nor film.  Discuss.

But while you’re thinking that through lemme tell you about REAL indie film:

I went out to a screening of my friends’ (and new producing partners’) film American Cannibal at Galapagos art space here in Brooklyn the other night.  It’s a doc about the making of a reality TV show and premiered at Tribeca last year.  The Monday night crowd numbered somewhere around 15 to 20 at the most.  There was a loud, obnoxious, not-so-funny stand-up comedy show going on in the next room while the filmmakers and I tried to meet about our upcoming project and not watch their film for the four thousandth time.  The film-watching audience drank beer and enjoyed and stuck around for an interesting Q&A afterward.  Now when’s the last time Scorcese experienced some dumpy-assed theatre with a meager yet passionate showing for one of his films like that!?   Hunh!?  Now THAT’S independent!  (AUTHOR’S NOTE: if you’re reading this Mr. Scorcese please note that I’m just playing the role of indie maverick and I really do love your work and think you rock and really could use financing for my next film so don’t take any of this seriously and be sure to check out my website www.PlugUglyFilms.com and let’s do lunch at Nobu soon?)

The next evening I went off to the first enstallment of Naked Angels’ Tuesday’s at 9 script reading series which was packed with around 100 desperate and frothing actors being matched up with writers to do cold readings.  Some of the material and actors were actually pretty damn good.  Very few of these actors are actually working though (hence their presence on a Tuesday at 9).  Thanks middle America for loving "Project Next American Jerk Off With No Talent but Nice Tits Who Can Sure Get Drunk on Camera and Act Like a Jackass Bitch of an Idol" so much that narratives have gone the way of the DoDo bird and people with talent are spending more and more time earning money at desk jobs while big name stars take the few roles available to them so they too can work and so brilliant shows like Arrested Development can be cancelled for lack of blockbuster viewership.  Not that I’m bitter…

Okay, so let’s get back to the subject at hand: Independent film.  Not independent and not film.  Discuss.