in the can

So I’m done.

I just shot a short film, my first. I feel like such a fucking wimp. Well, to qualify, I had never done this before, and I was doing 70% of everything on set: acting, writing, directing, costuming, catering, props master. But, by the second day, I was wiped out. I got my second wind eventually. And my third. And fourth. The worst was driving home the second night at 9:30pm, realizing I had to do a comedy show at 11:00pm. I was so tired that I literally could not remember what I was supposed to do in this show, which we’d opened the previous weekend.

All in all, it came out well. Really well. We shot 6 hours of material. No kidding. That is a lot for what is supposed to be a 10-15 minute piece. We just couldn’t help ourselves. The cast was great and just kept coming up with more and more stuff.

When I write plays, I’m a real Nazi about my lines. The actors have to have them exactly. Every um, ah, hmmmm, is there for a reason. It’s part of it. It’s rhythm. It’s tempo. It’s meaning. You wouldn’t paraphrase Shakespeare or Ibsen or Chehkov, well, you can’t paraphrase me either. Dammit.

But, when it came to this film, many times my words went out the window, and I couldn’t have cared less. Does that mean I’m becoming more laid back in general. Hell no. I wanted to give these talented people who were donating their time to what is essentially a vanity piece, freedom to play and have fun. Even if we throw it all out ha ha. No. Kidding.

Anyway, the shoot was remarkably problem free. My DP, co-director, and lighting guy all kept reminding me of the myriad nightmare shoots they’d been through, and that I should consider myself lucky. We shot at the beach, an arcade, and an apartment building on the first day, and never got bugged for permits. The beach was an isolated cove we found. It was perfect. The weather was great. Nothing got lost or stolen. No one got too sick. No big fights. Only one really late actor, but it wasn’t a problem. And some sunburns. Lots of sunburns.

So before we head into the editing room, we’re taking a week or so off to get away from the material. I’m trying to pat myself on the back as best as I can, but it’s hard for me to relax. I’m too hard on myself. Especially when one of my friends just shot his like 15th commercial and Shannon is up for a huge 80 spot (no kidding) campaign, and I’m going out like 2 times a fucking month. No theatrical agent. Barely a commercial one. Can’t afford to get new headshots, or to take a class. Tons of motherfuckers have been seeing me in shows and shit lately and loving me, but do they call me in. No. No. No.

They can all blow it out their ass and suck my big fat cock.

OK… I think I need to lie down now.

Really, I’m fine. I’m good. Really.


This is where I let Larry King take over my body for a few minutes.

Election, the movie, fucking rocks. There’s no way anyone will remember it come Oscar season, but it is seriously, subversively, brilliant. (My editor was asst. editor on it too. Ha ha ha.)…Shannon Doherty’s eyes are very crooked. Check it out sometime…I’m really craving a taco right now…Jeanine Garofolo was really good on Mad About You’s finale. The cynic can be very touching…Oh, I just got my last roll of pictures of late angel puppy Stella. It's hurts all over again...I’m going to go bike riding tonight. When I was 10ish, I lived on my bike...toy bird update: still bobbing...

 

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