Hey folks, Harry here with the second part of Moriarty's Rumblings from the Lab #14. If you haven't read the first part of Moriarty's work this week you missed an incredible interview with master filmmaker and anime legend Hayao Miyazaki. So click here and enjoy!!! If you have, then by all means, finish up the Rumblings of the dear ol Professor...
I can tell you someone who's got to be sweating his
each and every moment right now -- director Peter
Hyams. He was actually back on the streets of Los
Angeles this weekend for at least three days. This is
following the now-notorious test
screenings-that-weren't, when various media outlets
started shooting their mouths off about the screening
before it happened. I've spoken with people close to
the film in the past, and I know there is more than
one ending to the film. I'm hoping Hyams was shooting
for himself this weekend, and not because he lost his
struggle with Universal. He's a director who I'd like
to see catch a break here, and the word on his darker,
more overtly horrific cut of the film has been strong.
I'm reserving all judgement on the film until I see
it -- Arnold makes me nervous these days, and I'm
allergic to the first Andy Marlowe draft of the script
-- but I certainly wish Hyams well as he enters the
home stretch.
I also wish nothing but well to the fine folks behind
Naked Trucker. What, you may ask, is Naked Trucker?
Well, it's almost impossible to describe. SNL alumni
David M. Koechner and Dave (Gruber) Allen have created
an act that is achingly funny, one that you can catch
several times monthly at Largo in Hollywood. Allen is
the Naked Trucker, a man who wears nothing but a
guitar and his god-given common sense as he sings
songs about this great country of ours and about life
on the road. His side man is Koechner's Gerald
"TBone" Timmons, and the combination of the two of
them is painfully funny. It's the kind of character
comedy that the Groundlings and SNL and Second City
and Improv Olympic all encourage and it really pays
off here. I saw the act last Tuesday, and I would
strongly encourage you to check it out tonight at
10:00, or on October 9, when they'll be playing at
10:30. If you go, I strongly recommend reserving a
table. It's a great night out, and I can't wait to
see what Dreamworks TV does with Gerald when they
shoot their pilot built around the character. He's
got the potential to be as real and as funny as the
wonderful work Mike Judge and Greg Daniels do on KING
OF THE HILL.
Speaking of them, it looks like Fox has signed with
the duo to create a one-hour show that looks at the
music industry next year, centered around a fictional
record label. I'm jazzed about this, and I'm
surprisingly excited about another potential series
Fox is developing, a weekly one-hour based on LA
CONFIDENTIAL. Having read all of Ellroy's work, I
believe his characters have enough life to support a
series. The writing has to be smart, grounded in the
period, and it has to give us a real portrait of how
LA has evolved from one corrupt form to another. As
we face yet another LAPD scandal, it's a grim reminder
that the more things change, the more they stay the
same.
Enough about what makes me happy. I feel like ranting
a little here, and I'd like to start by wishing
nothing but ill on the absolutely offensive group of
trained monkeys currently staffing and managing the
Mann's Chinese Theater. I had an experience at that
theater this weekend that just about put me off it for
good. To help you understand what this means to me,
let me offer this: movies are my church. We all have
a place we go that gives us peace for at least the
time we're there, a place where they can center
themselves. For many people, it's church. For me,
it's a darkened movie theater. Always has been. The
best theaters are more than just exhibition rooms for
me... they're places you get attached to. When I
moved to Los Angeles, I truly thought I'd find a
culture here that appreciated their movie palaces,
that knew the value of a great room. Nothing could be
further from the truth. I remember when General
Cinema raped the Avco on Wilshire. There used to be a
magnificent downstairs screen, the first theater in
America to have Dolby Surround, the first to have THX,
a landmark house. In 1993, GCC cut the theater in
half, and they created two extremely substandard
houses that both lean towards the former center of the
screen.
Still, the Avco was never an icon like the Chinese is.
Any day of the week, the front of that theater is
jammed with tourists from around the world. When
people lined up for STAR WARS this year, it's no
coincidence that the Chinese is where they did it.
This should be the finest filmgoing experience the
city has to offer, and instead, the place is rapidly
degenerating into a dump, a dive, a cavern that is
staffed by people that know nothing about the films
they're showing, managed by morons who argue with
customers, who can't tell when their sound system has
stopped working. The experience of seeing a film
there has become almost intolerable, and Friday night
may have tipped it over past "almost." Harry Lime and
I got together to go see SW: EPISODE I again. It's
just come back to the Chinese and the Village for one
week, and it seemed like our last chance to see the
film in a theater. The Labs are walking distance from
the Chinese (although most of it's uphill, since we're
roughly 300 feet below the street's surface), so we
hoofed it for the 10:00 show. There was no trouble
with tickets. Hell, there was no advertising outside
to even indicate what film was playing. Nothing you
could see anywhere said STAR WARS on it. Once inside,
we had no trouble finding seats. A few minutes before
the film was supposed to start, there was a sudden,
startling noise from the front center channel speakers
of the theater... a sort of a BWAP! FWAP!
BRRRRRRPPPPPPTTT! FWAFWAFWAPPA! sound, but at
incredible volume. No one seemed to notice or care,
but when the lights went down and the first commercial
came up (one of those damn LA TIMES spots), there was
no sound.
Actually, that's not true. There was sound, but it
was like the speakers had been buried and had concrete
laid over them. It was very faint, all front center
channel. The next commercial came on, a MoviePhone
spot, and it was the same way. A couple of people
walked out to complain, and when the first trailer
came on, there was finally sound at full volume.
But it was only coming from the rear and the sides.
I couldn't believe what I was hearing as the trailers
continued. Dialogue was muffled, while sound effects
were overwhelming. Something was obviously wrong. I
expected the film to stop, but it didn't. Instead,
we just kept right on watching, and the movie started,
and the sound was still gone. It was apparent the
speakers were blown, but the theater was going to just
play the film anyway.
When I went out to the lobby to find the manager, no
one seemed to know what I was talking about. When I
found the manager and told her what was going on, she
looked me right in the eyes and said, "The speakers
are fine."
"What?" I asked. "No, they're not. Come in and
listen for yourself."
"No, they're fine. Really. There's just not supposed
to be sound during those trailers."
I searched her face to see if she was kidding, but she
didn't smile at all. This woman is in charge of one
of the most famous theaters in the world, and her idea
of effective management is to lie to a customer, even
if it makes no sense, and let a faulty presentation
continue uninterrupted.
I don't imagine the upper management of Mann's is
going to care that they lost the business of myself
and Harry Lime that night. It's obvious STAR WARS is
just a filler booking for them anyway. They couldn't
be treating the film worse. But maybe Lucasfilm will
care if they hear about how their product is being
displayed. It may be the opposite end of the summer
from STAR WARS mania, but that doesn't seem to merit
this kind of piss-poor presentation that is becoming
all too common.
I'd like to offer a quick congratulations to Lorenzo
Agius, who shot the new PREMIERE cover. He did
something I genuinely didn't think was possible, and
his pioneering work deserves credit. He has managed
to take the first truly awful photo of Angelina Jolie.
Of course, his work would have gone unnoticed if the
fine folks at PREMIERE hadn't decided to splash it
across their cover. Nice choice. Good work.
To avoid closing out today's RUMBLINGS on a negative
note, I'd like to share a story that should serve as
inspiration to all aspiring writers out there. It's
one of those "overnight" success stories that really
does illustrate how talent and perseverence counts
more than anything else for people who, like myself,
like Harry, and like most of you, are infected by
dreams of cinema.
Last week, the HOLLYWOOD REPORTER published a small,
easy to miss article about Dimension Films optioning a
script called DEADER. The logline for the script
sounds interesting -- "A woman journalist working for
an Underground East Village newspaper
investigates a bizarre cult in which the members
literally commit suicide, only to be brought back to
life" -- but the article doesn't really convey what
makes the story so wonderful.
The author of the script is a guy named Neal Marshall
Stevens. He's not unknown in LA. He optioned an
earlier script, THE SLOW MAN, to 20th Century Fox for
Harold Ramis to develop. Still, he was the classic
struggling writer, already 43 years old. He'd had a
number of agents who never sold anything, and he ended
up having his wife, someone who has no industry
experience, manage him. Upon completion of his latest
script, he had his wife contact Stan Winston's company
to see if they would read it. David Greathouse, one
of the execs there, read the script but passed on it.
When talking to Judy Stevens, Greathouse asked if
there was anything else he could read. She sent over
two of Neal's other scripts, one of which was a horror
film.
And then the great stuff started.
First, they got an enthusiastic call from David, who
is in love with the horror script. Stan is also in
love with the horror script. They want to send it to
a few people.
This is on a Wednesday. Thursday, the script goes
out. By Sunday night, Judy finds herself on the phone
with Bob "Dimension" Weinstein. Monday, the Stevens'
are meeting at Dimension. By the end of that initial
"creative" meeting, there's a mid-six figure offer on
the table, along with a two-picture option among other
things. Just like that, it's sold. Now Stevens is
preparing to sign with new representation, he's
incorporated, and he's fielding offers for more work.
This is a guy from Boston. He went to NYU Film
school, but started without any connections in the
business. He's just someone who worked, who kept at
it, who built up a shelf of sample scripts and finally
put the right one in the right hands.
Is his story remarkable? In the grand scheme of
things, no, I guess not. But it's always good to read
one of these, and it's good to remember that it
happens. It's good to see someone who cares about
their craft break through. I'll admit, I haven't read
DEADER. I have no idea what I think of him as a
writer. I do know this, though... I look forward to
finding out.
And now I've got to get back to some of our long-term
projects here. I know I have those AMERICAN BEAUTY
interviews here somewhere... I just have to put my
hands on them. Until then, let me send you out into
the world with your homework assignment for this week.
I want you to go to the FIGHT CLUB website by
CLICKING HERE and send me your
best postcards. You'll have to look around to find
the postcard maker, but you'll enjoy yourself while
you do. It's a cool site. I want postcards. Lots of
postcards. Remember... creativity counts.
"Moriarty" out.
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