The Great Defector

Blogging ebbs, blogging flows. Mostly ebbing lately.

Because I've been busy. Mucho time spent helping Chris Isaak and David Byrne file stolen identity complaints.

I don't know enough to argue

Really interesting essay with one dude's take on the future of the entertainment industry.

Good Times

Here's a first-hand, inside, way too accurate look into the current "profession" of screenwriting. For the complete picture, crawl through the comments, as well. Especially CP's.

Check out the post from The Artful Writer.

It was the music

Everyone alive in 1985 knows that John Hughes shaped the middle part of the decade for a lot of people.

But it was his spot-on knack for new music -- alternative or college radio that was only available via MTV's 120 Minutes -- that was the foundation of it all.

Pretty in Pink used this (so did Ferris, I think).


Sixteen Candles benefited immensely from this.


This defined Ferris.


Even Planes Trains and Automobiles pulled great music out of it's ass. Remember Book Of Love?


This single handedly saved She's Having A Baby.


Pretty in Pink may have set the gold standard.




And the obvious anthem.

New Rancid

Picks right up where Indestructible left off. Which is a very good thing.

Nice to know I wasn't being paranoid simply because I was certain Dick Cheney had designs on martial law.


Also, Mr. Greenwald gets points for consistency:

"All of this underscores why it is so important to vigorously oppose the efforts of the Obama administration (a) to continue many of the radical Bush/Cheney Terrorism programs and even to implement new ones (preventive detention, military commissions, extreme secrecy policies, warrantless surveillance, denial of habeas corpus) and (b) to endorse the core Orwellian premise that enables all of that (i.e., the "battlefield" is anywhere and everywhere; the battle against Terrorism is a "War" like the Civil War or World War II and justifies the same powers)."

Cabin Fever

Apparently this is what happens when you spend an entire winter in Minnesota.

Strictly Game

I've got Harlem Shakes in heavy rotation. Make a little money, take a lot of shit, feel real bad, and get over it. Sounds like a plan.

Effin' Beautiful

Recent Nikki Finke post confirms what every middling screenwriter already new.

"It's crazy how shitty the spec market has been this year, especially given what a debacle 2007 and 2008 were," a source tells me.

But as one who's developed a spec script with some producers who are prepping to take it to the studios in the very near future, there are some words you don't like to read. Words like "piss-poor" and "2009" and "development".

And you really don't like to read them in this order:

"The rest of the 2009 studio development business is in piss-poor shape."

Read her full post here.

Sounds about right

For those of you wondering how movies take that straight, obstacle free road from idea to completed project, this seems pretty much spot on.

Back To Work

Only took 17 months of WGA strike, SAG uncertainty, economic meltdown, and an actual SAG strike authorization vote.

The Artful Writer sums it up best.

Let's Run It By Marketing

Been thinking about an element from a John August post a couple months ago. I didn't say I'd been thinking quickly.

His post is a recap of a WGA panel discussion, in which one of the panelists weighed in on how amazingly important the title of a script is.

"If you can pitch and understand it as a title, it’s gigantic. If you can sell it with a logline, great. If you need a paragraph, you’re in trouble."

Can you understand the movie as a title? Can I get my chickpea sized brain around the story simply by seeing the poster? Do I get it?

Which got me thinking about movies that have -- based on that criteria -- nailed their titles.

Knocked Up. I get it. I know what it's about. Someone got pregnant. And it's funny.
40-Year-Old Virgin. Dude's forty. And he's a virgin.
Wedding Crashers. Dudes go to weddings. And they weren't invited. I need to see that.
Lassie Come Home. Lassie's not home. We want her home. Heartstrings. Tugged.

By contrast, there are titles that require me to sit through an entire movie just to decide if I want to see the movie. Like I have time for that.

A Bridge Too Far. Then start with something closer. Duh.
From Here To Eternity. And divide by zero. Is this a trick question?
Dr. Zhivago. Dude could be a dermatologist. I don't get it.
Casablanca. Casa-what?

Bonus points if you can do it in one word.
Big
Titanic
Jaws
Speed

Points deducted if it takes you a complete sentence.

Honey, I Shrunk The Kids
So I Married An Ax Murderer
Dude, Where's My Car?
I Know What You Did Last Summer.

Which leads to the best titles of all time (that I came up with in 45 seconds).

Ghostbusters
Star Wars
Back To The Future
Planet Of The Apes. It's a planet. Of apes.

Soundtrack to the Summer

The early leader for Soundtrack to the Summer honors is going to Fanfarlo.

Sort of a less spastic Clap Your Hands Say Yeah meets David Byrne (which sort of goes without saying since Clap spliced some of David's DNA) meets Arcade Fire.

Say Hi...

Similar to my Parts & Labor scribblings, I found three or four of my own jottings mentioning the band/dude Say Hi...

Start with Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh and Elouise (play button in bottom right).

Coming Soon...

The clock starts now. Which story gets set up as a pitch first?

"We go all Benjamin Button on this shit. CG Sandler's face to a baby. Forget the metaphorical man/child -- we've got the real thing!"

OR

"It's Shia leading a Sneakers meets War Games Revenge of the Nerds thing."


Actually, maybe I should take a look at that second one.

Apply Gun To Foot

I would actually be inclined to like their late eighties Smiths meets John Hughes meets Aztec Camera teen drama pop. Except they went and gave themselves the douchiest band name ever.

College Prep

Missouri mother disappointed to learn that kids these days are both pussies and narcs.

Oh, great

Now I have to gouge out my mind's eye.

Even More Last

So the Farrelley Brothers have set up their long developed Three Stooges movie at MGM. And the last three people -- the very last people -- you expect to be playing Mo, Larry, and Curly are...?

No, seriously, not those last three. The really really really last three.

Titus Andronicus

I'm assuming the sweat sprayed on the first couple rows tastes like bourbon.

Multiple Entries

So when I'm sitting at the computer doing my "work", I'm usually streaming something and jotting down bands I want to learn more about. And I looked at my scribble page today and saw Parts & Labor written down about six different times.

Check out Nowhere Nigh.

And So The End Is Near

I've been hearing the rumors for some time, but now it seems to be a done deal. Movies, as we've come to know them, will no longer exist.

For years there have been rumblings. Some wrote it off as local lore, or the ramblings of a lunatic. But it appears the legend of the last idea on earth is true. The one remaining idea left in all of humanity has been found, and purchased. By Fox. The end.

Even Newer M. Ward. Yea.

I like a site with an obvious big honking pink play button.

New Andrew Bird. Yea.

Rules are meant to be broken. Musically, one of my guiding principles has always been a simple one: No whistling (I'm looking at you, Andy Griffith).

Okay, one exception.

yeah, sure, right, of course

Remember when I mentioned that the spec script market in Hollywood has essentially evaporated in the last year due to all the uncertainty between the Writers Guild strike (which settled almost a year ago) and the Screen Actors Guild contract lapse, which is still unsettled after eight months.

And I said what we really need is for SAG to get their act together and either accept a contract they don't like or go out with a strike authorization vote to their membership (or any vote to their membership, actually). Well, since then, SAG has...

Staged an internal coup, tossing out their leadership and negotiating committee.

Enjoyed an attempted injunction filed by the old leadership against the new leadership.

Watched the judge throw that out.

Just so the new leadership could do almost exactly what the old leadership was going to do, short of actually sending anything to their membership for a vote.

If anyone needs my head it will be in the oven.

the obligatory oscar post

Dave's picks.

Best Supporting Actress: who cares

Best Supporting Actor: dust mites on mars know Ledger wins

Best Actress: who cares

Best Actor: the only one I care about. Sean Penn. Mickey Rourke was great, at being Mickey Rourke. Aronofsky made an fantastic movie, and Rourke benefited from Aronofsky letting him simply live in that meat sack of a face and body he's accumulated. But the movie is a Johnny Cash song because of Aronofsky (and the thoroughly underappreciated set designers and costumers -- flashy sets get the love, but man those guys created a world.)

Adapted Screenplay: personally, I'd go Frost/Nixon.

Original Screenplay: Wall-E. Although, I haven't seen Frozen River and do want to.

Best Director: Darren Aronofsky. What? Not nominated. Oh. Who cares.

Best Picture: Eh. Whatever. Frost/Nixon, Slumdog, Milk. All really good. But stellar?

Singing Your Own Name

Meta awesome. Peter Gabriel covering Vampire Weekend.

look, kids, god's country

February in Michigan. It's okay to be jealous.

Battle Lost

Matt and Kim's Good Ol Fashion Nightmare has officially taken possession of the space between my ear holes. At this point, I'm just hoping to get custody back for the weekends.

Matt and Kim

The d.j. in my head has Matt and Kim in heavy rotation. I suspect payola.

Summertime Clothes

Heard this new Animal Collective song a week ago and it's been running in a continuous loop in my brain ever since. Continuous. Endless. Song ends, song starts again. Repeat.

And I still like it.

a poignant rememberance

I'm a little slow with my year in review, but that's because I was having trouble even thinking about that year. The one between 2007 and 2009. The one I won't speak to directly. The one I will only address in the third person even when it's in the room.

But I'm past that now. I've come to terms with that year. Part of the healing process was starting to refer to that year by my own little pet name for it. Fucktard. Cute little fucktard.

From here on out it will go something like this: Michael Phelps won who-knows-how-many gold medals in the fucktard summer Olympics. Or, remember when Tina Fey took over the world, oh yeah, that was back in fucktard.

If it hadn't been for the Obama election I would have enlisted an extension cord to make sure the toaster reached the bath tub.

BUT, one awesome thing about fucktard was that, musically, I was in sixth grade again. Nothing but singles. I'm not sure I bought a CD.

So, in no particular order, the 12 best singles of fucktard.

Sigur Ros - Inni Mer Syngur Vitleysingur

Tokyo Police Club - Your English Is Good Yeah

Passion Pit - Sleepy Head

Air France - Collapsing At Your Door

Hold Steady - Sequestered In Memphis

MGMT - Time To Pretend

Pela - Lonesome Hearts (the Cassettes Won't Listen Remix)

Frightened Rabbit - Head Rolls Off

The Soft Pack (formerly The Muslims) - Bright Side

Delta Spirit - Motivation

Air France - No Excuses

Born Ruffians - Hummingbird

I told you

Nice to see that even the heavy hitters aren't immune. John August talking about the current demise of his version of Shazam!

"I got notes from New Line and the producers — mostly about set pieces, and keeping Black Adam from becoming too sympathetic — but before I could get started, the WGA went on strike. I couldn’t write, nor did I talk to anyone involved for 100 days."

Set pieces. Heh heh.

Sucks

So I was listening to Indie 103 the other day (online, for what that's worth), when out of the corner of my ear I hear somebody saying something about who'd have thought they'd have such a great five year run and somebody else was tossing out general good-byes and then... that was it. Just like that.

Maybe that's what happens when Rolling Stone calls you the best radio station in the country.

Yes, they're still "broadcasting" online, and some of the dj's will continue hosting the specialty shows on their own dime (for at least the time being). But still. Shit's not right.

The Second Oldest Profession Is Making Shit Up

Some people have noted that there used to be more screenwriting talk here. That's because there used to be more screenwriting. Or at least more screenwriting business.

Or at least more screenwriting business done by those who aren't in the upper echelon of professional screenwriters. And by that I mean the very small percentage of writers who are hired to revise the relatively small pool of scripts at the top of the studio development pyramid.

If you're not one of those folks, the last year has been an unwelcome vacation. That's because, since the fall of '07, studios have been smacked around by the Buster Douglas of uncertainty. It started in November of 2007 with the writers guild strike, followed in the spring/summer of 2008 by a potential actors strike, upstaged in September of '08 by a national economic meltdown, and capped off in the fall of the year by the return of the actors' strike.

Which means Hollywood took the year off from the spec market -- the flabby middle section of the studio film development torso.

In terms of developing spec scripts, the studios literally sat on their hands, the fence, and their wallets. Okay, clearly not literally, but you don't want to break stride when a barrage of "sitting" metaphors comes your way.

But, hopefully, after nearly 15 months, Hollywood is close to getting it's streetwalking ass back out to the curb. Because, yes, sugar, I need a date.

Right about now -- to which I am openly contemplating sacrificing something virginal or delicious -- SAG leadership is coming to terms with the fact that there are just too many variables working against them to take AMPTP to the mat this time around.

As a WGA member, I've gone from being firmly behind SAG leadership, to watching AFTRA eviscerate them, to realizing the timing is just plain against them taking a crack at what they're after.

You can get a more specific overview here.

But my feeling is that at this point, they're going to have to take the deal they've been offered, spend the next three years solidifying all the creative unions under one banner for the next round of negotiations, and call it a day. Or, rather, more than 180 days since biz could have gotten back to normal.

Did I mention I need a date.

It's Too Easy To Mock...

But what if -- just imagine it -- what if everyone did this.

Everyone but me of course, because, I mean, Angle Grinder Man is taken. I told you it was too easy to mock.

Asleep At The Switch

So I'm late to the game. Somehow The Touch Alliance managed to dodge my radar for at least a couple years. Not sure how they managed that when they're like a speedball of Bubble Yum and Pop Rocks.



Followed by a line of pure, uncut Pixy Stix (straw conveniently included). You know, as an eye opener.



Then, just to take the edge off, there's the Gummi Bear suppository. Don't ask. But hear more here.

And, yes, I was alerted to the fact that The Tough Alliance was recently seen sharing a booth at the Racine Comfort Inn with ...