...he's also a blind master that beats people with his flute(!) and you also see him as death in a black leotard with jaguar sound effects. YES. I am speaking of the film Circle of Iron, which I was fortunate enough to catch yesterday. Still not interested enough to watch it? How about this: A Christopher Lee cameo, and it was partially conceived and scripted by Bruce Lee, who intended to star in the film before his death...! Fascinating, bizarre, and--yes--occasionally laughable, Circle of Iron is definitely worth a watch by any cult film fan. Since it won't fit in my overhead ratings: Circle of Iron (***).

I got a hair cut today! I know that in a normal person's life such an event wouldn't rate a full post, but considering how much I hate this task, it's worth mentioning. Note my icon. This is how I often look (not, I might add, how I wish to look). Here's a pic of me with my locks newly shorn:



Note the ovaloid shape my head has taken on once the all-encompassing hair-helmet has been removed. See, by the time I make it to the barber, my hair resembles that awful look that Hollywood has used for all of its child actors for the last thirty years; you could drill three holes in my skull and bowl my noggin for an easy strike.

Here's to hair being out of my eyes for the next month! Yay!

Happy holidays, all.

--Kevin

Normally I don't cut remakes a lot of slack, but for some reason I'm strangely interested in the new version of this classic. I think that remakes often fail because there's nothing new to comment on in the original material. But in the case of TDTESS, this isn't true. The original was largely a commentary on cold war politics and the threat of nuclear annihilation. The new movie has a unique opportunity to comment on today's society, which is in a very different headspace. Since I've read (somewhere) that the filmmakers of the remake were seeking to do just that, I'm interested in seeing how they do. Lisa remains utterly skeptical. To change her mind the new version would have to be as impressive as The Dark Knight (except that instead of the Joker there's, like, a wicked-cool giant robot). We'll see.

Maybe it's just that I totally buy Keeanu Reeves as an alien in a suit.

"Klaatu barada nikto!"

--Kevin

I don't know what it is, but lately I just don't want to talk to people. I've gone through avoidance periods in the past, but I'm unsure exactly what is making me "turtle-up" this month. I think it has something to do with the holidays this year. For the last several years, Lisa and I have had pretty lousy holiday celebrations. Halloweens would consist almost entirely of reminiscing about better Halloweens while stuffing our vaguely-depressed faces with candy... not great. And while the quality of our family Christmas celebrations has always been high, they've also been frantic four-day affairs with about twenty-eight hours of driving thrown in throughout.

This year, since we're temporarily staying with my mom while I look for work,* we've had a rare respite from the gloomy celebrations of years past. I mean, we got to carve a pumpkin! We even gave it a name: Drac-o-lantern!



See? AWESOME. So, good Halloween. And now I have this rare chance to turn back the clock and have Christmas at home. Without the stupid amounts of driving. Just a pleasant family Christmas. Lest you think I've gone insane, note the following:



A real cat sniffing a real tree. That's Christmas, people! And did we have holiday music by Mr. Crosby and Mr. Sinatra playing while we decorated it? I don't even have to answer that! So if I'm hard to get a hold of this month, please accept my sincere apologies. I'm wrapping myself up in Santa's jacket and I've already picked up tickets for Lisa and I on the Christmas Express--which we won't even take all the way to the north pole since we're getting off at Frogtown Hollow to visit some friends.

I'll try and call everyone who has been calling me. But if I'm unable to overcome my inertia, just know that it's because I'm hypnotized by the flashing lights of the tree and my own churning thoughts regarding the nascent feature-idea brewing in my head.

Happy holidays, everyone!

--Kevin

*Aren't borderline economic depressions fun? We should have one every century.

I find the idea of directing commercials to be tedious and vaguely depressing. Well, except for one product. There is one product I would willingly--nay, eagerly--make a commercial for.


Oh yes. I would. And that's half the battle.

--Kevin

It's a massive beast that lurks in my deepest subconcious and only makes its presence known by the currents thrown by its thrashing, restless frame. It's my Feature, and these days I feel like I'm fishing for it with a broken broom handle and a bit of yo-yo string.

The culmination of our form is (arguably), the feature-length motion picture. It's length was defined by questions of marketing, but it also serves as a good benchmark for the expression of our art. Filmmaking is so arduous and difficult to do well, that the very process of making a movie tends to sift out the earnest practitioners from the poseurs. With today's easily available offline editing tools, inexpensive cameras and tech-savvy populace, making a short film is not terribly difficult. It might be more challenging to make a good short film, but the principle stands. In contrast, making a feature is a gruelling bitch--even if your goal is only a modest level of quality.

A feature might be 10 times longer than a short, but that doesn't mean it's only 10 times harder to shoot. When one factors in pre-production, post-production and other problems (such as retaining cast for a bottom-basement indie effort), its difficulty increases by an order of magnitude beyond the handful of days needed for a short.

To put it another way, I created many many shorts at my time at SCAD--yet even if I strung them all together they wouldn't equal the "standard" feature length of 90 minutes. That's 3.5 years of effort and I didn't shoot enough to match the length of a feature, much less its gestalt.

So, making a feature is hard. Like shoveling bullshit in a bull pen built beneath a pig pen with a slatted floor. And if someone's going to go through that years-long agony, it stands to reason they'd better have a story they want to tell. Mine is there, swimming in the deeps of my subconcious. The trick is catching it without becoming an Ahab in the process.

Happy Holidays,

--Kevin

So I've decided to post a rating for the movies I've been watching. Instead of using a nuanced and responsible method, however, I'm just gonna give'em stars. Without comment. Like any decent film could be assessed based on a theoretical linear track between "good" and "bad." What about the films that have good characters, but bad plotting? Or lousy production values offset by a quirky and original story? How can anyone possibly quantify that in stars?

You can't, so fuck it. I'm giving stars--and not even five. Nope, four. And since I can't really simulate a half-star with the asterisk character, I'm gonna round any half-scores; I am an inherent optimist, so I will always round up. Here's the rough breakdown:

X=No stars. No redeeming values. It's a series of images captured on film or video for the express purpose of making small children and kittens cry.

*=1 Star. Not recommended for any but the hardcore. Watch it if the premise interests you and you can get it for free. Without getting up. And someone will turn it off for you when it's over so you don't have to.

**=2 Stars. Enh. It's probably adequately made but uninspired. If I've given it two stars, It's likely you've already seen a version of the story, and it was probably way better told. If you're a cinephile, then it's probably worth a watch.

***=3 Stars. Recommended. I enjoyed the overall film and/or really loved certain elements. Go see it if you want to make me happy.

****=4 Stars. It's a series of images captured on film or video for the express purpose of making Kevin smile with delight and reaffirming his life choices. If you are Kevin, DO NOT DELAY. If you are not Kevin--but suspect you may share similar values--take the trouble to check it out.

See? Easy, pleasant, and almost completely useless. Just like delicious candy.

--Kevin

Mirror's Edge Time Trial mode is deeply addictive. Considering I've never really been into any racing games, this is saying something. Now, I'm up at odd hours risking premature arthritis as my lithe avatar sprints, leaps and wall runs again and again, trying to find that perfect groove that will shave .5 seconds off my best time...! I found a course I liked and then set a goal for myself: "On this course I will break into the top 100 ranking." Out of a couple thousand players, I was determined to be in the top 100. I chose the player ranked 100 and downloaded his info. Instead of racing the clock, I was now racing the red after-image of this previous player's best effort. And as the hours wore on I gained on that ghost little by little. The small bars on the side of the screen that chart my overall performance began to turn green as I outran him first on one section, then two... and finally it happened. The perfect run--for me, anyway. In the end I beat him by .90 seconds, which catapulted me way past him! Behold:



It may not mean much to some, but for me it's the culmination of a hard battle against some stubborn kilobytes of saved data. On this night, and on this course, I rank in the top 100 out of all the players who have ever tried it. For me that's enough. W007!

--"Speedy" Kev

That's it. No pithy review or wry comment. This game is simply awesome.


End of line.

I finished watching the indie film The Station Agent last night. Sigh. I mean, this was a film that won awards and a slew of nominations for awards. So... it's good, right? Okay. It's good.

Fuck. IT HAD NO ENDING. Okay, I know. It's an Indee Fylm(TM), which means that you can have subtle, slow character portraits with nonexistent--sorry, I meant subtle--plot development. But... c'mon!! Cinephiles have been swallowing that argument since The 400 Blows gave us an OMG stunning freeze frame as if it made up for the lack of a defined ending.

Maybe it's just me. It probably is. I just find character portraits with limited to no transformation to be a letdown at best and a deep disappointment at worst. I feel like I've gotten on a roller coaster that stops at the top of the highest hill and then lets all the passengers off. The Station Agent was so abrupt that I was waiting for the next scene when I got credits instead. WTF??!! What a waste! We had good, interesting characters, well defined conflicts and then... nothing. It's like I can sense a pasty filmmaker taking a deep drag off his cigarillo (it's always a cigarillo), and then intoning in a quasi-french accent "It's a film about life." Then the bastard exhales through his nostrils and stares off into the distance. Well, maybe some--or even most--folks agree with that (entirely theoretical) dick, but I call these non-endings a cop-out.

Even Napoleon Dynamite--one of the most understated films in recent years--has a fucking defined ending! And that is why I will sing ND's praises to the highest hills while simply gesticulating incoherently with grunts of frustrated anger when people ask me about The Station Agent. So I guess I'm saying that Napoleon Dynamite is my proof. If ND takes the trouble to craft well-thought-out resolutions for each of its near nonexistent plotlines, then what's their excuse?! Fuck this.

This is why I keep going back to shit like Halloween 5.

Last night Lisa and I waited in line for the latest WoW expansion. Well, technically she did. I was the only one there hoping to score a copy of Mirror's Edge early--which I got! WOOT! Ahem, but I digress. Anyway, for a tiny little backwater in eastern NC, there were a ton of people there--I'm guessing around 150-200 folks. We didn't get home until 1:30am. I'll let my cellphone camera tell the rest.



NOTE: We did not pick up the WoW expansion at an AT&T store, rather, the line wrapped all the way around the front of the shopping center where the Gamestop was and around the side. All together now: "Wow...!" It's the pun that keeps on giving!

So much fun. See, you can tell it's gonna be a blast by my zany spelling of "movie." Anyhow, in a desperate bid to fill space, I've decided to start making up terms to describe common events/themes in motion pictures. Due to my love of horror, you can expect a lot of horror-related terms.

Today's Term: Deadly Interrogative (The) - This refers to any time a potential victim is alone and looking for someone or something. Examples include: "Hello?", "Is there anybody there?", "Bob, is that you?", etc. Anytime The Deadly Interrogative is invoked, it often means our victim is soon to meet an unfortunate end. In addition, if someone is named in the interrogative (i.e. Bob), it usually means that someone has already met an untimely end.

See? Wild, zany, and madcap fun! Yippee!

--Kevin

P.S. I applied to three jobs today. Three. And these are college jobs, requiring oodles of documents, cover letters and eloquent prose. I am taking the night off and having a congratulatory peep to celebrate. :)

I could put together a dreary post about prepping the ponderous application packages required to apply to a college-level teaching position... I /could/, but believe me, you'd be asleep before I got halfway through discussing the curriculum vitae. Instead, tonight I'll talk about "Wrath of the Lich King."

Now see, I don't know much about the Lich King, or his wrath, or his daddy issues (that's right, I played Warcraft 3)--but my wife does. SHE KNOWS. So tomorrow we will be heading down to our friendly neighborhood Gamestop and plunking down a handful of gold pieces (or a voucher for same, anyway), and she will receive the sacred expansion when the witching hour strikes. It all reeks of some dark ritual, but WoW makes Lisa happy. Lisa Happy = Kevin Happy.

So to all the other midnight cultists out there: stay warm tomorrow night!

I'm back, yo. Note my swaggery street speak and ironic new journal title to reflect my current status as a hip* graduate with a terminal degree. So how am I doing? Lets go with one of my trademark analogies:

Imagine, if you will, a post-apocalyptic wasteland. It's a barren, harsh landscape broken only by the occasional spire of melted glass or pile of bleached bones. Now, sitting in the middle of this inhuman desert is a walled city. The city itself is a beautiful collection of glittering towers and delicate suspended walkways, but the wall that surrounds it is hideous: forty stories tall and with absolutely no features. At the base of this wall--almost lost amidst the barrier's monstrosity--are thousands of scrawny degenerates. Up close we can see the pathetic creatures are dressed in rags and have sunken, pitiful eyes. They scratch at the wall, making inarticulate moans day after pathetic day. Hoping that the glorious city's one tiny gate might scrape open and let one of them inside to partake of the splendor.

In this context, the city represents the film industry, and I'm one of the sad degenerates struggling to find gainful employment with my fancy (and often unappreciated) MFA degree. The analogy isn't perfect, of course. To be more accurate, the city wouldn't actually be /that/ pretty, and the wasteland zombies would have to have hundred-pound stone disks around each ankle to represent the crushing debt such an education costs.

But hey, at least I've still got my sense of humor. :)

So, dear readers (if I have any left), that is what my journal is currently about: the search for sweet sweet employment doing the thing I love. The dream still calls, and I'm still chasing it. The cynicism may slow me down like barnacles on a sailing ship, but I'm determined to reach open water in the end. See? Another trademark analogy.

*In this case, hip is actually code for "destitute."

Is wow_hazmat here! Just stopping in to note that the SCAD Chronicle had an article about his Thesis Film.

WOOT

You hope that your Thesis will be wonderful to make. Sort of a film student's equivalent to a bridezilla's wedding day: an exhausting but beautiful affair that you will treasure forever. It's the culmination of an arduous journey towards graduation that has already been paid off through exhaustive work and crippling loans.

But then things start to go wrong.

There's nothing unusual in this, no film production is flawless. So when you're given a lousy camera with no monitor (the good one that had been reserved was broken by a previous crew) you tell yourself that you're directing in the style of your forebears and carry on. The Thesis is not so beautiful anymore, but now it's a full fledged "learning experience."

Then things keep going wrong.

No 25mm lens came with the primes they gave you.* Okay, so your selfless Assistant Director (AD) leaves at 5am for a round trip to Atlanta where we can rent a lens we shouldn't have to rent using money we don't really have. Well, you shake your head and curse -- but then you laugh it off with stories of other shoots that have gone wrong. You carry on.

On the second day one of your Producers comes down with an obscure viral infection that mimics the effects of a heart attack -- you don't learn that it wasn't one for two days. At the end of the third day, your lousy camera dies in the middle of a very demanding technical shot. You don't get the shot after that (the scheduled last shot of the day), and you don't know if any of the previous shots came out. So now you have to halt production, find a new camera and rush your footage to the lab to make sure you're not completely screwed. The learning experience has now become a "trial." You grit your teeth, announce that you will pass this trial, and carry on.

The school's equipment room tries to help you -- it's not your fault the camera went down, after all. But there's no equipment to give; everyone is shooting projects right now and none of them have enough equipment. But they do the best they can. You drive up with your moving van full of film gear, and drive away with a tiny fraction of that with which to finish the shoot -- it looks quite lonely in the cavernous van. It's now a trial by fucking fire.

We have one good day... and then our selfless AD gets real sick. The following day, the set he was holding together (through herculean will and endless hours of work) collapses. Also two lights burn out (one is bad luck, two is... this production). A shot is delayed while a Producer rushes out to get a replacement. That's when your lead actor tells you she's out the door in thirty minutes (everyone has last-minute projects due, and she's a student like us). We lose the complex dolly shot and the next day we will lose the 25mm lens to do it with -- which is fine, since your actor tells you she can't work that day after all. You don't even blame her -- if only half of the previous disasters had occurred, the film would be wrapped by now. So you halt production again. Now it's a fucking trial by the most vicious bullshit combat. You throw your hat across the parking lot and scream obscenities until you're blue in the face. You watched as every wheel came off this production one at a time until sparks were flying out from underneath the chassis and at that instant you realize you've hit the jackpot: your film is one of "those" movies, destined to go down in history as a Jaws or Apocalypse Now in miniature. A film renowned -- not for its quality -- but for the brutal and unyielding bad luck that permeated every aspect of its production. It's become a slog through endless shit where your only goal is to make it out with a watchable film -- you dropped "award-winning" from your day-dreams several days back.

It's March 3, 2008, and you've just gotten back from that disastrous shooting day. So you break your silence on livejournal to relate the chain of events that led to this point, and then mention how this film should have been "in the can" on February 28, and is now looking at a final day of March 10 -- if nothing else goes wrong. But it probably will. And then you -- as any other true filmmaker -- will have only one option: you carry on.

Wish me luck.

*A hypothetical: You're trapped on a desert island with a beautiful Super 16 camera and you can only take one lens. What would you take? Answer: The lens that most closely approximates human sight and is thus versatile (See "25mm lens").

wow_hazmat here again!  K says I can guest post whenever I want -- at least until the Thesis is done.

So enjoy some No More Kings.

Hello, all, wow_hazmat here!

ktread20 asked me to make a guest post type thing for his LJ (or agreed to let me guestpost; the details are fuzzy).  Mainly to update on... various things.

1) Thesis!  Been two days of filming so far.  First day was antsy since while SCAD did provide the proper camera (after the one reserved for the shoot was broken by some idiot) but failed to provide a 25mm lens.  To explain, lacking this lens is like writing The Great American Novel without any vowels, any r's or t's or s's, and no space bar.  A new lens was acquired/rented, but involved the Assistant Director driving a stupidly awful amount of miles to pick it up.

2) ...I forget what I was going to put down for #2.

3) XBox Live!  Does you has an XBox Live account?  K is "Truman20" and he wants friends.  Mainly he wants someone to play co-op "Discs of Tron" but friends in general are nice. :D

4) Star Trek!

It's not a leg lamp, but today I received a no-less-amazing prize from out of left field. I was notified by the school that I would be the recipient of their 2008 Winter Quarter Thesis Grant. I was floored. I'm still floored. This is not a grant one applies for, but is simply given. At my level of anonymity, receiving it is roughly equivalent to the following exchange:

Some School Official: "Hey, Kevin. Sup?"

Me: "Enh. Stressing out."

Some School Official: "Yeah. Thesis work is hard. LOL. Hm. Oh, congrats on your Emmy."

Me: "..."

Me: "Excuse me?"

Some School Official: "We were talking about it last night. Just me and some other officials. Your work is appreciated. We got you an Emmy."

Me: "R-really? I really received recognition of my talent? That is... I have talent?! Really?!"

Some School Official: "Sure do. Here you go, I put it in my pocket in case I ran into you. Also, it would be a little less weird if you'd stop crying like that."

So basically, a committee composed of various departments goes over the Thesis applications for the upcoming Winter Quarter and chooses one to award money to based on its merits.

My Thesis, The Monster, won.

With my meager budget the money will be invaluable, but to tell the truth, the self-esteem boost is the most positive benefit. Since I've never even gotten a film into a festival,* this grant not only counts as the first official recognition of my art, but also the first time I've ever been paid to make it! Plus, there's gonna be a certificate and an official ceremony where I receive it and someone's gonna take my picture and shake my hand and... and...

YOU LIKE ME!! YOU REALLY REALLY LIKE ME!!!!!

*The entry fees and my own feelings towards my previous films results in few submissions. Of course, that's before I found out I was a genius; we're bringing carpenters in to widen all the door frames so my new head can squeeze through without ripping off my ears. :D