Dickens

Today is Charles Dickens' 200th Birthday, as anyone who pays close attention to Google's homepage doodles will have realized by now.

I mentioned this to a friend of mine, including the important detail that the man is my favorite author. She's a novelist, and she said, "It's funny, everybody respects him, but not very many people say he's their favorite author." I said I guess that's true. It's because people don't read him.

"Yeah, what what is Mark Twain said about classics...that they're books 'that people praise but don't read.'" That about sums it up. I contended that if more people read Dickens, he'd find his way into more Favorite Author slots.

An aside: I know there are people who legitimately don't like the man's style. To them, I extend my pity, and a pass. If you've read him (and I mean more than one book in high school), I suppose you're allowed to dislike his writing. The sentiment baffles me, and always will, but it's allowed. Just like all bad opinions.

Last semester, one of my professors distributed a collection of basic screenwriting "rules" by James Dalessandro. There were ten of them. Here is number 10:

READ.
I saved the best for last. I know a screenwriter in Los Angeles who has written one successful movie and has yet to find a second commercial idea. He confided in me once that he has not read a book in fifteen years, since he graduated from college. I was speechless. Listen, and listen well. The keys to knowledge are called "books." The province of dreams, the wellspring of wisdom, the storehouse of human drama is books. All things marvelous and terrifying are in black and white on bound pages. From "Les Miserable" to "To Kill A Mockingbird" to "Forrest Gump," the great characters began on the printed page, not the silver screen. To write films, you must love films and read screenplays. But if you do not read books, if you missed Dante and Satre, Chekhov and Faulkner, Steinbeck and Kesey, you are missing cards from your deck. You can not play poker with a short hand.

Why don't people read? Have you asked them? I have. The answer is always the same: "I want to read, but I can never find the time."

OK. Do you eat? How do you find the time, I wonder? Well, you find it because you need to eat. If it wasn't essential, plenty of us wouldn't do it nearly as often as we do.

You won't read until you need to read. The sad truth is that few people are convinced it is actually a need. To the vast majority, reading is a luxury. It is one of the first things to get nixed from the list of to-do's when time gets short, and life gets crunched. If we don't make time to read, then deep down we don't think it's essential, and we are wrong.

It's a spiritual thing. You don't notice what you're missing when you fail to read great literature. But when you really start to dig in, you wonder how you ever survived without it. The fact is, we don't. There is, everywhere, evidence that our culture is perishing in what Mother Teresa called "a famine of the spirit."

It is an inadvertently self-imposed famine, though, for we are surrounded by that which could so easily satisfy, and deeply.

For instance, I have the complete works of Charles Dickens on my iPhone. It was $2.99.

Happy Birthday, Mr. Dickens.

101 Films

A friend recently asked me to make a list of "essential" films everyone should see.

I can't imagine why I agreed to this. But it was impossible to stop once I'd started. It was also virtually impossible to finish. So I set some parameters, and defaulted on some disclaimers, and produced a list of 101 movies.

Parameters: No animated films, and no documentaries, and only "foreign" films that have broadly and thoroughly permeated the American cinema aesthetic. **UPDATE: After several people called me out on this, I realized I should clarify. I have a deep respect for documentary and animation, but felt that I needed to narrow the scope of this "survey" of films. Animation and documentary each deserve their own lists, but I feel even less capable, let alone qualified, to make them.**

Disclaimers: This list is completely subjective. I didn't include films I don't like, though they may be important. It is also totally inadequate. But I did my best, without sinking more than a few hours into the project. It is also alphabetized, because I think it would be unreasonable to try to order these movies in a qualitative way.

Without even blinking, you could probably name a dozen films that, by their absence, prove I'm an absolute idiot. Oh well. Enjoy!

1. 12 Angry Men (1957)
2. 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968)
3. The 400 Blows (1959)
4. Alien (1979)
5. All the President’s Men (1976)
6. Amadeus (1984)
7. Amelie (2001)
8. Avalon (2001)
9. Babette’s Feast (1987)
10. Back to the Future (1985)
11. Ben-Hur (1959)
12. Better Off Dead...(1985)
13. Blade Runner (1982)
14. Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid (1969)
15. Casablanca (1942)
16. Casino Royale (2006)
17. Citizen Kane (1941)
18. City Lights (1931)
19. Close Encounters of the Third Kind (1977)
20. Cool Hand Luke (1967)
21. The Dark Knight (2008)
22. The Day the Earth Stood Still (1951)
23. Dead Poets Society (1989)
24. Deep Impact (1998)
25. Die Hard (1988)
26. Double Indemnity (1944)
27. Dr. Strange-love (1964)
28. Dumb and Dumber (1994)
29. Edward Scissorhands (1990)
30. The Elephant Man (1980)
31. E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial (1982)
32. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (2004)
33. Field of Dreams (1989)
34. Forrest Gump (1994)
35. The Fall (2006)
36. The Fugitive (1993)
37. Galaxy Quest (1999)
38. Gladiator (2000)
39. Godfathers I & 2 (1972, ’74)
40. Gone with the Wind (1939)
41. Good Will Hunting (1997)
42. The Great Dictator (1940)
43. The Great Escape (1963)
44. Groundhog Day (1993)
45. Harry Potter 
46. Hero (2002)
47. High Noon (1952)
48. The Hurt Locker (2008)
49. Inception (2010)
50. It’s a Wonderful Life (1946)
51. Jurassic Park (1993)
52. Life Is Beautiful (1997)
53. The Lord of the Rings (2001, ’02, ’03)
54. Malcom X (1992)
55. The Man in the White Suit (1951)
56. The Matrix (1999)
57. Men in Black (1997)
58. Metropolis (1927)
59. Mr. Smith Goes to Washington (1939)
60. Napoleon Dynamite (2004) 
61. The Night of the Hunter (1955)
62. O Brother, Where Art Thou? (2000)
63. On the Waterfront (1954)
64. Ordinary People (1980)
65. Pan’s Labyrinth (2006)
66. The Patriot (2000)
67. The Philadelphia Story (1940)
68. The Pianist (2002)
69. The Princess Bride (1987)
70. Psycho (1960)
71. Raiders of the Lost Ark (1981)
72. Rashomon (1950)
73. Rear Window (1954)
74. Rocky (1976)
75. Saving Private Ryan (1998)
76. Serendipity (2001)
77. Seven Samurai (1954)
78. The Seventh Seal (1957)
79. The Shawshank Redemption (1994)
80. Sherlock Jr. (1924)
81. Singin’ in the Rain (1952)
82. The Sixth Sense (1999)
83. Slumdog Millionaire (2008)
84. Social Network (2010)
85. Some Like It Hot (1959)
86. The Sound of Music (1965)
87. Spartacus (1960)
88. Star Trek (2009)
89. Star Wars (1977-83)
90. The Sting (1973)
91. Take Shelter (2011)
92. The Terminator (1984)
93. Terminator 2: Judgment Day (1991)
94. Thank You for Smoking (2005)
95. The Tree of Life (2011)
96. To Kill a Mockingbird (1962)
97. V for Vendetta (2005)
98. West Side Story (1961)
99. Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory (1971)
100. The Wizard of Oz (1939)
101. Zombieland (2009)

Me, in Caricature

My friend Laura illustrated me:

I tell you this because she recently decided to start doing personal illustrations for $15 dollars, and I told her I thought that was a great idea, and requested one immediately. So there I am, in glorious caricature.

If you're interested, feel free to send her a message on Facebook, or leave a comment here, and I'll get you in touch with her. I've known Laura for quite a while, and I can vouch for both her professionalism and her skill.

As with many of my posts, you may be wondering what this has to do with being a film student. Well, nothing, directly. But I was very impressed by Laura's attitude. Why wait until some person tells you that you should be making money at what you do? You might as well start whenever you can. If you have a marketable skill, go market it!

*****

I am also to inform you that if you are willing to advertise her work, she'll drop the price to $10. Aren't you glad you kept reading?

Student Film Purgatory

Once upon a time, I made a goal to write and direct four short films, each less than 2 minutes, in one semester. Each of them, I decided, would take approximately four hours to shoot, and they would all be ready to show by the end of the semester.

Here's what happened: I made one, and it took a year.



The irony is that Stage Fright really did only take a few hours to shoot. I put a crew together, got a location, and cast it in something like two weeks. Then it went into post production and...disappeared. The guy I had editing it was overcommitted, and this little side project was just about his last priority. Then, when it was finally cut, my sound guy (who had been expecting it months earlier) was busy getting married. And so on.

There are three kinds of student film:

1. Those that get finished
2. Those that don't get finished
3. Those that are currently in purgatory, whose final state is unknown

The films in purgatory are sort of like Schrödinger's cat, existing in both states, progress (life) and termination (death), simultaneously. Unlike the poisoned animal, however, the student film cannot be observed in this state. The box, so to speak, is sealed shut. 

Remember Weighted? Well, it never went into purgatory, thank goodness, which is why it got finished about eight months after I started writing the script. That kind of thing is vanishingly rare for student films--in fact, I know of no other capstone project that finished so quickly. It was a charmed project, in many ways, and I'm grateful.

Other projects have not been so fortunate. For instance, the following is a trailer for a capstone project that got started more than two years ago. It's a short film adaptation of a couple of scenes from the book "Ender's Game." 

By Jacob Schwarz's account, it's...well, it's getting there. The CG effects in this thing have been his personal nightmare for what probably seems like an endless eternity to him now, but he's still working at it. That's saying something, since he graduated and moved on to getting paid for what he does over a year ago.

So, if I had to guess whether this film will be dead or alive when it finally emerges from purgatory, I'd guess it'll be kickin'. Jacob isn't the kind of person to let something with so much cool potential just fade away. But he's running out of time. One of the frightening truths of student filmmaking is that your projects have expiration dates. There is a point, and it changes from film to film, at which completing it becomes an abject impossibility.

Here's to hoping Jake can drag The Third out of purgatory, and soon.

...Quoth Ira Glass

I've been a fan of This American Life (no, not my American life--I'm talking about the show) for years now. It is one of the few works of media that remains undiminished in its capacity to enrich its audience, despite the sheer size and nature of that audience. Ira Glass, the show's creator, has managed to preserve its whole integrity. As an artist and a reporter, as a thinker and a contributor to the world of media, specifically to radio, he is unsurpassed.

You have to trust a man with a desk in the mountains.

I say all this by way of introduction, because what follows is a quote that has earned its trip around the Internet. I'm not much for quotes, typically. Too often they're mis-attributed, or you don't know enough about who said it to make any difference. But if anyone is qualified to make this case, it is Ira Glass:

A friend and fellow screenwriter (one of my peers at BU) shared this on Facebook, and I was sufficiently impressed to want to spend more than a follow-up comment on it. Perhaps I'll better remember it now that I've dedicated a whole blog post to it.

I've spent a good part of the last four months feeling crappy about my work. I decided after reading this that that's good enough. I've had my fill of humble pie. It's time to dig in and, as Ira suggests, "do a lot of work." I can look at my writing, at my efforts and sweat and blood, and I can say, "This isn't very good." And then, instead of whining about it, I can say OK, and push it aside, and get back to work.

I will end with this open letter to Ira Glass:

Ira,

Thou art the man.

Respectfully,

Jordan.

On Resolutions

Sorry about last week. Not REALLY sorry, but a little sorry.

I have ten minutes to write this post.

Also, here's a funny New Year's video:



I learned something about goals. There's a sweet spot, between too- and not ambitious enough. I set a goal to write for six hours every day of the three weeks I have in Utah. That has manifested itself thusly: I have written for an average of 2 to 3 hours every day since I got here.

That could be considered a disappointing failure, but how helpful would that be? Also, not accurate. So I haven't been writing for six hours. Guess what I have done--written a lot. I've made a lot of progress on two feature ideas. The act of writing has started to become habitual. I'm not there yet, but I'm getting close. The trick is that six hours sounded like a reasonable goal, so I got up every day with renewed determination to meet it. If I had set the goal higher, I would have ignored it completely. If I had set it lower, I would have procrastinated to the point that I got much less writing done.

This is helpful in considering resolutions. In 2012, I want to be better about managing my time and diligently working toward the eventual fulfillment of my dreams than I did in 2011. In short, 2011 was great, 2012 will be better.

That's the overarching theme of my life. In a consistant effort to make today better than yesterday, each year ends up being better than the last. It's sure I don't always succeed in making every single day better, but the effort is what counts, the never letting up. The specifics will change constantly, but the idea is always the same. It's about movement, progress, growth.

Onward and upward. 2012, despite what Roland Emmerich might say, is really nothing more or less than one more year. And that's...well, it's pretty great.

From the train

There's no other way I'll be able to blog today, so I decided to take advantage of the Blogger app on the iPhone and post a thought. I took these pictures in the course of writing. So you know.

Anyway, life is great, but about as busy as it's ever been.

What about being a film student? Isn't that what this blog is about? OK. So lately I've been impressed by this process of artistic humbling. by that I mean: we are all really crappy at this stuff, relative to people who are better and more experienced, and certainly relative to our eventual abilities (assuming we continue to work and improve).

The trick, and it is a trick, is to both acknowledge and ignore this. There are two options: feel discouraged and give up, or feel humbled and work harder and more eagerly. Plenty of people victimize themselves into thinking discouragement is inevitable, and thus suffer the inevitable impoverishment of their work and passion.

I think most of us strive for the humility and succumb to the discouragement by turns, but I do believe there can be a point, with enough sustained effort, at which humility is the default, hard work the lifestyle, and discouragement the occasional hiccup in an otherwise productive career.


Anyway, I hope that. And the hope is encouraging. Directly self-fulfilling, in very fact.

This is where I am.

Pulling a fast one on Failure.

What do I mean by that? I mean that I completely forgot about today's post until 10:45pm, which was 26 minutes ago. (The time is 11:11.) I spent all that time trying to figure out how to get scrippets (which is supposed to be, and, I trust, actually is magical) to work for me on Blogger. (Note: soon this blog will move to Wordpress, but until then...) No dice.

So now it's 11:13, and I don't really have any pressing things to talk about.

Well, I had an interesting experience today.

A couple weeks ago, I was in a bad mood in one of my classes. Everything that was happening in the class felt like a frustrating waste of time, and a not insignificant amount of it, too, since the class is three hours long. My bad attitude was largely a product of frustration with my own failure to write consistently, which was subsequently projected on, well, everything else. I'm talking here about a really bad mood. One of those inner-tantrums that you sort of let escalate to the point of not caring if it shows.

This is always bad form, by the way. Such bad form, that I got an honest to goodness email from the TA, suggesting, with respect and affection, that I check myself and get my act together. Thankfully, I wasn't as sour when I got the email, and was therefore able to immediately realize that what he was suggesting was very sound advice. A duality of gratitude and shame washed over me, and I resolved that I would grow up and get over my issues before I invariably burned some important bridges.

Today, two weeks removed from my disrespectful display of insolence, I had a chance to talk to both the professor and his TA. The conversation went very well. I apologized and attempted to explain my behavior, and they encouraged me to come to them often with questions and the like--to use them as the resource they are, with a very personal understanding of how wretchedly difficult this whole business of writing can be.

Things aren't easy yet, nor will they ever be, I imagine. But I am both learning that I need to mature, and finding ways to go about doing it.

Today, I finished yet another first draft of a short script. If I can ever figure out how to more effectively post "scrippets" here, you'll get to read something. Maybe. I make no promises. ... Leave me alone!

So, I consider that I've pulled a fast one on failure, and in several instances. It is 11:24, which means I'll get this post published before the day is out. Is it a great post? Is it an essential addition to this blog, considering all of my interlocking mission statements?

At this point, I don't care. The point is that I promised to post every Monday and Friday, and, so far, I've kept that promise.

Maybe next time I'll remember earlier.

ALSO! I've been wanting to include pictures I take of Boston. I haven't been out playing the photographer like I'd planned, but I have grabbed a shot here and there. So, to that end:

Taken with my iPhone from a bridge over the Charles.

Pick a different thing.

As many of you may know, teaching is still a part of my life. I'm still a TA, and though the circumstances are very different, I'm finding many of the experiences to be very similar.

For instance, I still occasionally have opportunities to talk with students one-on-one, usually about the class, but sometimes not. One of my students came to my "office hour" (I do not have an office) to go over some of her ideas for the next essay. She's interested in becoming a screenwriter, so she's thinking about focusing on certain aspects of that career's development alongside technology for her essay. I told her I think that's a great topic. 

I also told her that screenwriting is an excruciatingly difficult career choice. Let's think about it. You don't get paid unless you're very good, have great connections, and get lucky. No one is ever going to tell you how and when and what to do, so all of your hard work has to be completely self-motivated. In order to get to the point where you're any good at all, you have to bleed your life away at the keyboard, and somehow re-construct yourself into someone who cares more about writing than almost anything else. I should also mention that screenwriting is, quite possibly, the most grueling kind of writing to do well, or even correctly. And since so few people know how or even care to read screenplays, the best stuff you do will be almost totally unappreciated.

But don't worry, because for the first several years of painstaking sacrifice, everything you actually manage to finish will be total crap.

My advice? Pick a different thing. 

If you can't -- if you can't -- then you'd better start in on it now. The sooner you reconstitute your life around a core of daily, substantial writing, the better shot you'll have. 

The good news is, I don't know of many people who sacrifice hours writing every day for the better part of their lives and don't wind up with some degree of success. So the real question is, are you willing to make the offering that the craft demands?

In short, this mantra:

Write away, right away!

Bad Writer, Bad Writing

I had two choices:

1. Continue to avoid writing a new post because I technically don't have a new scene to share this week.
2. Admit my failure and post anyway, favoring consistency over humiliation (and cowardice).

I am now hiding behind door #2. 

It's not that I haven't been writing at all, but what little time I have spent writing I've sunk into the short, for which I'm supposed to be turning in the first draft this coming week.

Wow, what a sentence. I can actually feel myself getting worse at putting words together. It's becoming a neurosis. You are witnessing a slow, excruciating collapse of a once-creative mind. What's it like, from your perpective? This is what it's like for me: sinking into a pit of loose, soft sand. I'm panicking, of course, but what can I do? It seems like the more I struggle, the deeper I sink, and plus there's all this sand, which, even if I get out, is going to be all up in everywhere ok I think this analogy is breaking down.

And now here's some venting:

I frequently (and unfairly) blame my failure to stake out more time to write on my job as a TA. Specifically, of late, grading papers. Like I said, it's unfair, because if I was more dedicated, I'd get my &#!+ together and quit whining. I'd have plenty of time if I'd stop wasting so much of it.

But that's not what I want to vent about. I want to say that the level to which we, as a nation, have allowed our standard, public education to sink is unforgivable. I don't blame the freshmen coming into a prestigious college for their utter inability to write coherently (I'm one to talk)--I blame the system that so recently regurgitated their ill-served brains. The sad fact is this: public high schools are failing utterly to teach the vast majority of their students to write at even the modest levels of competency. 

This is the pen I use to grade. I know, right?

Is writing really that important? 

Have you ever heard Lewis Black scream the word "YES" in an explosively incredulous rage? Well, that's my answer. 

Not only is an inability to write clearly and effectively an indication of a poor education, and a terrible handicap in the professional world, it is also, alas, directly related to stunted critical thinking. Writing is thinking, and vice versa. The two are inseparable. Learning to write well facilitates much better thinking. Without the one, the other stagnates. 

And so most of us are coming out of high school barely functional. It's not an age thing, it's a systemic failure thing. If our eighteen-year-olds are well-meaning idiots, it's not because they haven't seen two decades, it's because they have seen one decade of "no child left behind." 

I'm going to stop now, or I never will. 

This blog is supposed to be a place to talk about being a film student/maker/person. So I've typed out my passionate plea for better writing with fear and fury, and now I want to ask you, am I overstating it? Am I alone in my anguish? Are there other perspectives outside of mine? I tend to assume there aren't, which, I recognize, is a problem. Help me fix it.

Et Cetera

Here is the direct transcription of the pertinent task on my Wunderlist task list:

Blog! Sick, focusing, academia, QD, etc.

In an effort to keep things simple:

Sick

I got sick on the very first day of classes. Felt it coming on, then fought like crazy to keep it from getting bad. A few days later, I was feeling mostly fine, so I tried to jam way more into my days, and ended up getting sick again, but much worse. Took a week to find the end of it, where I found a sinus infection waiting for me. Getting rid of that was a pain, and now I'm...mostly ok. Still teetering, but trying to treat myself right with fear and trembling.

Also, herbal remedies. The next time you find yourself with a sinus infection, try this (apple cider vinegar tea). It works. Several times a day, for several days. It'll clear you out and allow your body to do the heavy lifting of actually getting rid of the infection. Seriously. I did it. It was great.

Being sick, by the way, is horrible. Not that you didn't know that, but I was reminded very forcibly of this most fundamental truth after the year (almost) I spent forgetting it.

Focusing

Back in the Utah, I divided my time between so many and such varied activities that I never really got good at anything. By now, I'm sure it's clear that I came here to focus on writing. I told myself that I needed to pick something, focus on it, and stick with it until I really developed the talent. Easier said than done, just like everything. It turns out that I still want to do all the stuff I was doing, and not doing it feels a little like giving up on life.

Of course, that sentiment is only exacerbated by my failure to write as often and as consistently as I VERY MUCH NEED TO, so that has been, or is becoming, my primary focus, as it were. I must write write write write. More on that later.

Academia

I'm not used to this. I feel like I spent a couple of years being a semi-professional, not getting paid, but doing all kinds of project-oriented things. I was doing things I loved, and things for which I would have been paid had I been out in the real world, but now I'm back in classes. Homework is hard, I'm rediscovering. Going to classes. Following syllabi. Frankly, it sucks. But I've only got a couple more years. They'll go by quick, and then it will be, quite literally, over for good.

QD (or, Quiet Dignity, for the uninitiate)



So proud of these guys for keeping it going after I left. I've been putting out feelers for how to go about setting up a coordinating group here in Boston. If you're a Bostonite, and you're reading this, and you're interested, let me know.

Et Cetera

Life is busy, and it's good. Quality. Full of good work and shining possibilities. But I'll admit I miss my old life pretty desperately sometimes. OK, often. But I brought it on myself by getting so close to so many wonderful people. And here I go again, trying to do the same thing here. I'll never learn.

Well, anyway. Check. Time to move on to my next task.

A Story about Taking Pictures of Married People

I wrote this post over a month ago and forgot to post it. Look at me go. I promise a more current set of thoughts very soon. 

Last week, I had my first experience with wedding photography. It turns out I'm...well, about how I expected to be. Not great. Not terrible. Out of 1,060 pictures, I forced over 200 of them to be useable in some way, so I guess that's something.

I did it for free, because it was for a couple of dear friends, and it was my first time. I figured a practice-run photography gig was a suitable wedding gift. And while I most certainly don't regret doing it for free, I doubt I'll be able to afford the same generosity to anyone else in the future. The event went from 4 to 8pm, approximately, and then sifting though the seemingly endless pictures I had taken, and editing the ones that were salvageable--I think I clocked in another 8 hours. I will never begrudge a photographer his or her fees.

One of the reasons I was so eager to do this, though, was that I knew I'd learn a whole lot, and I was right. For instance, I found myself phobic of closing the aperture; for some stupid reason, I kept it stopped down as far as I could get it--all day long, in blinding sunlight. Instead, to limit the exposure, I throttled the shutter speed between three and eight hundred. If you know anything about cameras, you can go ahead and laugh at me now. Here's the other part: keeping the aperture open decreased my depth of field to the point that I had a devil of a time keeping anything in focus, particularly for a lot of the candid shots I tried to get.

I also ended up underexposing about half of all the shots I got, having failed to adjust appropriately for drastic lighting changes. Listen. Photography is hard, it turns out.

But it's hecka fun. I did learn a ton, and I think my friends will be happy with some of what I give them. Here are some of my favorites:

And Now I'm Here

It's been a long time, I know, and I'm sorry.

Here's what's been up:

I moved to Boston.

Undergoing such a huge move turns out to be psychologically, physically, emotionally, spiritually, and creatively draining. It's sort of like going into survival mode, where all I could really focus on was making it through the whole thing in one piece.

And now I'm here, in one piece. And classes have started, and I'm still a wretched writer, in that I almost never actually sit down and write. That's going to change, though, you'll see. Or, probably you won't see, but you'll hear abou--er, you'll read about it here, when I decide I deserve to let off some brag steam. But no such steam exists at present, so that'll have to wait.

Here's the deal with BU: it's different than BYU. Like, a lot different. I won't say it's better or worse, because I think it's an impossible comparison to qualify. They are different worlds. I guess there is one qualitative thing I can say--different is good. I love these buildings that are hundreds of years old, with dust on the windowsills that I'm willing to bet is older than my grandparents. I love the way everything in this city is crammed together, or was, a hundred years ago, and everyone has to just sort of shoulder past each other to get around.

I love that yesterday, it was so hot and muggy I thought I would drown when I walked outside, and today it's cold and rainy enough to be November in Utah.

I...well, I really hate that I have to furnish my own room in my new (very, very old) apartment, and I have no car to help me do it. But I LOVE that as soon as I step out of my door, I'm in Davis Square in Somerville, which is at least fourteen times cooler than any square in Provo.

I love living here. I'm so glad to be back. Immediately, I want to claim this as my home. I know that I need to put in some time before I get that right, but I'm willing to put that time right in.

So those are my thoughts right now.

And here's my "expert film student" advice for the day: Love where you are, or move.

A Very Beautiful Loglines

Last week, a friend of mine wrote a post about screenwriting. This is not unusual, since this person is herself an aspiring screenwriter, but the topic of this particular post was particularly focused on something I think gets mostly forgotten by people who hope to one day prove to the world that their writing is worth something. Or anything....anything at all.

"A logline, or a one-liner, is something that big muckety-mucks in the film world use as a cheat sheet to the big question on any film goers mind: what is this about? It is a couple of quick and to the point sentences answering just that question." 

The first thing any screenwriting hopeful should understand is that no one, no one wants to hear your half-hour, rambling summary of whatever you're working on. Not even your mother, though she might pretend to, bless her.

Here's an example: Weighted is about a boy who can fly and his sister, who can't.

There can be more, of course. It depends on how much of the story you want to reveal in its logline. There are augmented versions of the above example that get into more of what happens, and why, and even how the whole thing resolves, but the kernel of the story is right there in that one sentence. That really is what Weighted is about. So whenever anyone asks me, I have a really short, simple answer for them. And guess what, that's all they really want to know anyway.

But my friend goes on to point out another, less-obvious purpose for these little buggers.

"And the reason that I have to be good at them, besides simply selling one, is that it doesn't serve you as a writer to keep endlessly writing a screenplay or novel about something that you're not quite sure about. The story starts to take some interesting detours in and out of genre and theme and SENSE when you don't know precisely what is supposed to happen."

In other words, you better know what your story is about, in the simplest possible terms, or it'll never be good, even if you manage to miraculously finish it.

Here's a link to the whole post. Read the whole thing through--she's an engaging writer, so I promise you won't be bored.

In Three

As embarrassing as this is, I haven't been able to fit in an interview since last week, so today, I'm just going to share some advice I gave to a friend who's hoping to get into BYU's film program.

Part of the application requires a three-minute film. This is by far the most daunting part of the process for someone trying to apply for the program, especially since this filmmaking venture comes before they've had a chance to make a lot of film-type friends to help them, and they've likely had very little experience up to this point anyway. Add onto that a dread fear of having an admittedly novice piece of work get judged by a group of very smart, very experienced professors who alone hold the key to entrance into the program, and suddenly a three-minute film seems more like the most important thing you've ever had to do.

The advice I gave him (edited down a bit below) will apply to anyone who is looking to make a short, three-minute narrative film. A lot of it is pretty basic, but it's often the very basic things that are most difficult to remember when you get busy with a project like that. So here it is:

1. Simplify - as it stands, there's no way you'd be able to cover that much material in 3 minutes.
2. Keep that core idea, and then figure out one simple question: What does your character want? Your three minutes will need to cover the following:
1. What happens to the character in the beginning that motivates the want?
2. What does the character do about it?
3. How does the character try to get what he wants? (There should be several escalating actions/reactions/situations)
4. Does the character get what he wants or not?
5. What are the consequences?
3. Be very specific and concrete in all of your choices--the setting, and exactly what happens in each scene, and why it's important.
4. Depending on those concrete decisions about what, exactly, will be in your film (person, place, thing, etc.), the tone of the story will be either humorous, dramatic, scary, suspenseful, or whatever. I suggest a mix of humor and suspense. It's easier to pull off comedy in 3 minutes than drama or anything else. 
5. Again, keep the concept simple. Try to boil the whole thing down to ONE THING. Person wants thing. Who is the person, and what is the thing? 3 minutes is shorter than you think it will be. Always. No matter what. That is the primary thing that hamstrings people when they set out to make a 3 minute film. Everyone, without fail, comes up with a concept that is too large, covers too much, and cannot possibly be told in 3 minutes. 

Maybe you're not working on a three-minute film, but most of the above advice actually applies to almost all of narrative screenwriting. So consider this the first of many screenwriting tips you'll find in this blog over time. 

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I want to tell you that Friday has some cool things in store, to in part make up for the somewhat dry nature of this post. So I WILL tell you that. Because it is true.

Muscle Time!

NEWS: I am holding in my hand (or was, before I began typing [hunting and pecking is for the weak!]) a DVD of the fine cut of Weighted.

Producing said disc has eaten the lion's share of my day, so here I am, at 6pm, just now starting today's post. Eventually, I'll get to the point where I start these things early, and queue them up so that I don't have to rush to get something out every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Eventually. Probably right before I give up on this blog entirely.

This is the worst thing you've seen all day.

Kidding! I know how important this is to all of you. I have made a commitment.

I do have some advice today (SHOCK), and it's current, which means this is something that I have recently re-established as valuable and important. 

It is exercise. 

Does that sound like a cop-out? Well, it sort of is, but it's also the thing I feel most strongly about in this very moment. You see, I'm one of those people whose need for sleep seems to fluctuate pretty dramatically. I know people who can get by on six, or five, or three hours of sleep every night and somehow survive and stay productive. (I hate those people.) I need nine. 

I feel like it's not too hard to deduce that this puts me at a terrible disadvantage. While many healthy, normal people seem to get by just fine on six or seven hours of sleep, and wind up with a 17 or 18 hour day of work, play, and reasonable laziness, I have to make due with 15 (or less, if I'm stressed or overworked). 

BUT. I've learned, finally (again and again and...), that there is a consistant pattern to my level of physical activity (i.e. exercise), and the amount of sleep I need. Everyone agrees exercise is good. Duh. But here's the thing that always takes me by surprise (embarrassingly): I need much less sleep when I exercise regularly. I find myself feeling better and having more energy, and waking up naturally, no less, after seven hours or less.

Why am I telling you this? Why would you possibly care? What does this have to do with being a film-type? 

This is a time-making tool, this exercise business. And I've talked a lot about filling your time with good things, projects and the like. Getting experience, getting well-rounded, making connections and keeping them. Being a professional at whatever it is that drives your passion. How many times have you wished you needed less sleep? How many times have you caught yourself uttering that absurd cliche "if there were only more hours in the day..." 

OK, I'll leave the horse alone. It's starting to splatter, and blood stains miserably. 

I'm sure that everyone is physiologically different, but let me go ahead and recommend exercise as strongly as I can to every living human. You may not start at nine hours and end at seven, but you'll most certainly gain time, and, far more importantly, energy--that other thing there never seems to be enough of. 

Yes, I just spent an entire post telling you to go exercise. Sue me.*

*Please don't sue me. 

WATCH MORE MOVIES

I made this. (with help)

It should be clear by now that I think movies are pretty important. I'll admit that my advocacy can be a bit rabid, but there's a reason for that.

Let's talk about the letter G. A 'G' in the MPAA rating system stands for "General Audiences." General audiences. That's an interesting phrase. I think it means "most of everybody."

I'm not interested in the 'G' rating, per se, but I am interested in the concept of a general audience, because it represents the status quo. The blockbuster crowd, if you will. These are the people, comprised of almost everyone, that determine the social value of cinema. I speak mainly of Western culture, and that for two reasons: 1) it's the one with which I am most familiar, and 2) it produces the vast majority of the world's most watched films.

I'm interested, deeply, uncomfortably and always, in the way movies are perceived by "general" audiences. What is the popular opinion? It's not the only opinion that matters, but it is certainly the one which will most heavily influence the shape of film to come. It is the one that drives the medium's economy. It dictates what gets made and seen by the greatest number of people.

And the popular opinion is that movies are, at their core, little more than diversion. They are the G audience's favorite pastime. They provide an escape from the harsh realities of life, and an alternative to the cold disappointments of mediocrity and tedium. If a movie isn't fun, it isn't worth it. If it doesn't make you feel good, it's bad.

Would anyone ever dare say such asinine things about music? Painting? Sculpture? Do people even say that about sports, which are themselves by definition a form of recreation, first and fundamentally?

But this is the G opinion. How it got there is a topic of discussion much to large to be tackled here, so instead I'll ask a simple question: Can it be changed?

I say yes. Not because I'm an optimist by nature, but because I believe that the relationship we have with film, as a general audience, is unsustainable. Michael Bay's explosions are experiencing diminishing returns. Ever bigger bangs draw increasingly smaller crowds.

But it's not something that will just fix itself. You're probably reading this blog because you feel the way I do. Movies are important. Film is an essential and wondrous language, and should be put to much better use by all of us. So I propose, for you and for me, a straight-forward challenge:

Watch better films, and watch them more than once. Watch them searchingly, actively, and talk about them more often and more deeply. Never let anyone get away with tossing off the false, destructive idea that movies aren't meant for more than a tub of popcorn.

Feed Yourself

I got an email last week from a guy hoping to get some film students involved with another student venture (business related) that could potentially turn into something really cool for everyone involved. I won't go into detail, because it would be unnecessarily boring, but the point is that of course there was no way I could personally get involved, so I pointed him to Kyle Stapley, who updates the BYU film department's blog with film-related opportunities and internships.

A couple weeks ago, I talked about reaching out and taking opportunities as they come. At this stage of my life, where and when I am, stuff sort of rains on me. I have to turn things down constantly. I'm not bragging--especially since almost all of it is unpaid. But I constantly hear from younger students who are looking for more opportunities, paid or not, to cut their teeth on the business and processes of filmmaking. Many of these students even go so far as to email people like me personally.

Here's my response to one such recent email:

...whenever you find an opportunity to work on something, drop everything and go do it. It's helpful to bug people in a systematic way, too. For instance, it's certain I won't remember that you, specifically, are looking for set experience the next time I'm looking for people to help out on a project. So keep track of who you've asked, and then ask them if there's anything you can help out on every month or so. Once you get on set, you'll meet a whole bunch of people, and if you're proactive, you can usually easily find more opportunities from there.

I'll stand by that advice. I think it's good. But there's a better way.

It's knowing what kinds of resources to keep your eye on. I think this is a decent blog, but of course it's just one venue. For BYU students, I would strongly suggest finding a way to follow film.byu.edu, so that you know immediately when it updates.

Let me put it another way: It would be ABSURD not to.

Do you have a system of keeping up with online resources? I'm talking about RSS feeds, here. If you don't know what those are, I'm probably the wrong person to explain them, but the short of it is that setting up a feed reader (I use Google Reader, for instance) is a must.

Here's how it works--you remember to check up on one thing every day, and that one thing (your feed reader) updates you on all the other things you most certainly won't be able to remember to follow consistently on your own.



There is no excuse, in this era of almost total digital connectivity, to be out of the loop when it comes to local opportunities to get involved in filmmaking. All it takes is learning and using the tools.

So, as a re-cap, here's what you should do:

1. Go set up a Google Reader account (or another feed reader of your choice)
2. Learn how to use it (Google is wonderful with tutorials)
3. Subscribe to the film.byu.edu blog (if you're a BYU student)
4. Subscribe to 2190
5. Subscribe to the xkcd webcomic, because it's awesome
6. Subscribe to whatever else your eager heart desires (every blog has an RSS feed, and so does almost every website)
7. Faithfully check your Google Reader (or other feed reader of your choice) daily

This is something about which I feel pretty passionate. Some of my best film-related experiences have resulted directly from following film.byu.edu closely; I am a huge advocate of feed readers in general, and Google Reader in particular. This may come off sounding overly bold, but trust that I am entirely sincere when I tell you that, in my estimation, feed readers are nearly as important as email accounts. Please take a moment to consider that, and then take a few more moments to go set one up if you haven't already. 

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Do you use a feed reader? If so, which one? What are your most valuable/awesome subscriptions? Please, share in the comments below. 

Other Stuff

Not me. I wish.

I almost made a terrible mistake.

Filmmaking, as a pursuit, will never be satisfied. Ever insatiable, it will exact every last scrap of everything you have to give. I found out early on that it would be easy to sacrifice my whole soul upon the alter of film. 

I think most people who are involved in any way with this industry and art have discovered the same, whether consciously or not. But it's important to look at this truth in the face, and recognize what this medium will absorb if allowed. 

No single thing in this world deserves all of anyone. Everyone ought to be divided, perhaps not evenly, but severally. Family is important, and friends. Politics, and religion, and hobbies. Let's none of us forget about books, either. 

But it's easy to forget, even after coming to a conscious recognition of this stuff. I almost cancelled my membership to the Quarry (my rock climbing gym), because I figured I didn't have enough time. That would have been a terrible mistake. Yes, the hobby takes time. And, yes, I could use that time toward the hungry beast of my "career." 

And I would have been poorer for it. 

Here's the other shoe: this stuff--everything not tied directly to film--makes better artists and students. I am a better filmmaker because of my non-filmmaking passions. If all I ever did and thought about was film, then I'd have nothing to say. Aren't movies about movies kind of annoying and dumb? And boring? 

Me. Timp. Last year.

So I'll keep climbing. And reading, and spending time with my non-film student friends and family. I'll keep being an entire person.

What kinds of things round you out? What do you fill your life with when you're not filling it with film?

Better Busy than Bored

Last Sunday, at a gathering which involved something like a hundred people squeezed tightly into a small apartment to consume strawberry pie, I met with a guy who had previously contacted me on Facebook. Jonathan Walgamott. Go ahead and say that last name out loud.

Anyway, Jon was looking for help with some videography for a non-profit he helped start called Courage to Hope, the purpose of which is to try to combat domestic abuse. By chance, he ran across some of the stuff I’ve posted on Facebook, and decided to send a message asking if I’d be interested in hearing him out. I said sure. We chatted in the vicinity of a bunch of pie.

Why am I telling you this?

Several reasons, but, primarily, I’d like to lead by example when I can. I told Jon I’d be happy to pass along his request to other film-types, and that I’d also be willing to help write content that he could produce. It’s a non-profit, which means non-pay, but I believe in the cause (who wouldn’t?), so I think some small commitment is a good move on my part.

Here’s the principle: Commit to stuff. There are two parts. The first has to do with commitment, the second has to do with stuff. Altogether, the principle suggests (mandates!) that we fill our time with good things, and we fully invest in the things we’ve chosen.

A few years ago, I was sitting in class, and the teacher (Tom Morrill, from whom I learned more than I could ever adequately enumerate) mentioned that there was a student looking for a producer to help out with a capstone. He gave us her email address and told us to contact her if we were interested in helping out.

My first thought was, “Oh, well, I've never produced anything...” And then there came this epiphany: If I didn’t start reaching out and taking opportunities right then, as a young film student, when would I? It dawned on me that I’d never learn anything unless I committed to stuff that scared or stretched me in some way.

I emailed her.

Since then, filling my time with various projects and endeavors has become a habit. I’m not great at staying on top of everything, and I tend to overcommit, but I’ve learned that I’ll always be happier with being too busy than not having enough to do. If I find myself with enough time to watch stuff on Hulu every day, it means I have enough time to grab another opportunity, or commit to another project (or go on a date). It’s second nature. I often find myself overwhelmed, but I think that’s healthy.

So, if you’re reading this, and you’re feeling motivated to go take on something worthwhile, get some experience, and learn some things, send a Facebook message to Jonathan Walgamott, and let him know you’d like to get involved. You can tell him Jordan sent you (you don’t even have to mention that you follow my blog—I know it embarrasses you.)

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Remember that time you were going to follow this blog, but then you forgot? I have great news! You still can! It involves only one. more. click. I know, I know--best news you've heard all day. You're WELCOME.