Electronic Yearbooks and Premature Sentimentality

I created a Facebook profile tonight. I feel very collegiate, and a little foolish. You have to admit it's kind of a dorky endeavor: I'm creating my own page on the world's biggest online yearbook, searching through other entries for faces I know, and sending them (literally!) a "will you be my friend?" notice. If they do, they come over and sign my yearbook, and then later maybe I'll go over and sign theirs. I don't know what you're supposed to do if they don't want to be your friend. I'm no fan of e-begging. Still, it's awfully nice to be connected. I threw out a bunch of wistful invitations, and by the time I finished, I had three new friends. Plus, hopefully I can catch up on all my Asbury gossip this way.

I trekked over to the Roggios to get my hair cut tonight, and Vanessa and Johnny insisted that they throw in an old video they found of me from our freshman year during spring semester Midnight Breakfast. We sat down and watched it, and I'll tell you, lads, times have changed. I'm not saying the current edition of me is necessarily much improved, but at least I've slowed down a little. White as a ghost and rail-skinny, I was bouncing around hyperactively and pounding people wildly on the back, talking a mile a minute. My favorite bit was me holding Paula in a headlock while whacking her in a friendly fashion on the top of the head. "This is Paula," I announce proudly to the camera, as if I'd invented her. Can you be nostalgic for your college years before you leave them? Because tonight, at least, I am.

Good times, good times.

Shooting script of the coffeehouse script, now re-titled "Always Got It," is up for comments. As always, I appreciate your critique. Special thanks goes to Beth, Peracchio, and Smash, who helped edit the last copy, and to Queue and Jonathan, who've thrown in their two cents as well.

Ideas For An Old Movie

If you're into cynicism (and who isn't?), you might have seen Joel Gallen's Not Another Teen Movie, a hit-and-miss parody of the teen movies and the cliches that they've become (Gallen is now hard at work at follow-up, Romantic Comedy, about... well, you know).

Feeling somewhat inspired by Gallen's efforts, I'm launching a similar project, with the working title Not Another Old Movie (it won't actually be called that. I just wanted to give people an idea of what it would be like). I'm hoping to throw together various bits of old movies - Casablanca, Breakfast at Tiffany's, Citizen Kane, etc. - into one big rollicking satire of a film.

And, yes, I'm aware that this may flop. That's why I want to try it.

What I'd really like is for you, dear reader, to help me along. What old movies are near and dear to your heart, and should not be left out? What old films are crying out to be satired?*

Also (and this is more difficult, but I'd like you to give it a shot), what stereotypes do you see in old movies? In teen movies, it's a piece of cake - the big jock, the funny fat guy, the token black guy, the mean cheerleader, etc. Same for romantic comedies, or horror movies. For old movies, it's trickier - most of the movies we remember didn't just resort to form, but didn't something new and exciting. But some of them did. And some of them created the stereotypes we can't get away from today.

My definition of old movies will be: anything before 1960. That's not set in stone, of course, since Breakfast at Tiffany's was made in 1961, and it will be included. But it applies to the old movie rule, where Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? (1966) would not.

That's the dog and pony show, ladies and gentlemen. I'd love to hear from you. I'm gonna need a lot of help on this one.

*"Satire" is not a verb. Do not attempt to such literary stunts at home. I am a professional.**

**Not really.

Disassembling the Dream

So this is Los Angeles.

I don't know what all the terrible fuss is about. It's a city - a nice city, with palm trees and warm weather, where it hasn't rained for six months because that would somehow ruin it all. And sure, there's a mystique to it - all around you, movies are being made, right under your nose shows are being produced, and anyone you pass could be someone famous, or formerly famous, or will be famous soon. It's a little exhilarating. And yes, the traffic is bad, and the smog is nasty, and costs a million dollars to park in any one of the four parking spaces available at any time. So it's everything you would expect - but it's not breathtaking or terrifying. It's a city. I'm over it.

Still, I like it. I'm soon to be interviewing for Scott Free Productions home of Ridley and Tony Scott, which is one of the companies I was hoping for. In fact, my interview with our internship co-ordinator went like this:

INT OFFICE - DAY

BEN, a nervous young film student, knocks on the open door and enters cautiously into the office. CHRIS, the co-ordinator, looks up.

CHRIS
How about Scott Free?

BEN
Okay.

CHRIS
Good.

END SCENE

I'm hoping my interview at Scott Free goes in a similar direction. Early reports say that I'll be reading a lot of scripts and writing out my opinion on them, making photocopies, maybe sitting in on a few conference calls, and if I'm lucky, going to the L.A. film premieres this fall (Scott Free will be releasing Domino and In Her Shoes in October, so here's hoping. I might even meet Keira Knightley. This is what is known in the business as "counting your chickens before they hatch").

More updates as events occur, in addition to script updates. I can always use a hand in that regard. I'm in the midst of my third draft of my eight-minute film, which I'll then throw out to look for criticism. In addition, I desperately need to write another draft of the coffeeshop drama (tentatively titled From The Diary of a Player), and I'm hoping to pick up my break-up drama (known as Stage Three at the moment) and have a hack at that. All three scripts will appear on the website soon enough.

I'm about to start a new post, though, begging for ideas, again. I've received so many good ones for the romantic comedy that I've decided to try it again. Help out if you can. I think you'll find it fun.