The Danger of DSLRs

So, as anyone who reads this blog regularly already knows, I have been diligently trying to finish my first short film which was shot last September. It has already been far more difficult than I anticipated but we're almost there...well, so I thought.

The fetching new "Wig and Camera Hat" (Available at all good retailers)

Last week my editor and I went through the entire thing and made every single cut perfect, as it has to be, especially with comedy as getting the right timing, reactions, rhythms are absolutely essential. On that note it really is an amazing experience to work on something in the editing room and trying to find that punch to the gut you're looking for. It could be a matter of frames, but when you get it right, it's undeniable and you both crack up laughing. Very odd.

Anyway, so we got to the very last (and subsequently very vital) last shot of the entire film and guess what? It's out of f**king focus! Not by much, but enough. Well John, surely you could use another take? I hear you say. Nope. None of them worked. Another angle John? You retort. Nope, every other angle did not capture the one thing we needed most which was for me to simply look down and back up again. Instead it contained various takes of me, as my editor kindly put it, "f**king around". So I suppose it's my own fault, which makes it all the more frustrating.

It's not the end of the world of course, it just means I'll have to re-shoot a couple of things. It's just a bit of a pain in the arse.

My point is that I have finally found a downside to shooting with a DSLR camera. Although, in the right hands, they can give you magnificent looking shots and are relatively cheap and extremely easy to use, the only thing you have to look at is a poxy 3-inch screen. Which always looks in focus. Blown up on the big screen however, it is not always the case.

So my advice, pop pickers, is this: I had the pleasure of helping out on a mates set this weekend (from 6.30 to 3am as the slate person - the bloke with the clapper board to you and me) and they also shot with a DSLR. They, however, had a 7-inch monitor attached to the camera, giving them a much better perspective of how everything looked. This my friends is a must have. That and a Director of Photography. Having a DP essentially means that your job as a director is simply to know what shots you're looking for, and getting the best performance from your actors. You don't have to worry about setting up shots, what lens to use, the lights or any of that palava...they do it all. I'm definitely getting me one of these chaps for my next shoot.

Other than it's been back to the grind of trying to write something profound, witty and life-affirming, auditioning for things and trying (so far in vain) to get my feature-length off the ground.

"Your imagination is your preview of life's coming attractions" (Albert Einstein)

Peace and love,

Juan.

Shite Film, Great Song

JB

Dialogue of the Day

"What do you fancy him for? He's a weird little bloke. Look at his cartoon face and his hair, he looks like a Fisher Price man...and his rubbish clothes...makes me think there's something wrong with you for a start, yet in my head I'd still do you so I'm confused."

The irrepressible Gareth Keenan in "The Office"

Heroes To Humanity: #94 - Dave Grohl

After reading this article ("Dave Grohl: F**k Glee") this morning, it made me so happy that I felt it was finally time to honour a man who really needs no introduction...I'll give him one anyway.

For anyone living in musical purgatory for the past 20 years, our Dave began his glittering career as the drummer for Nirvana - his inclusion almost instantly propelling them to rock n' roll royalty - before moving on and becoming front man and chief songwriter for the Foo Fighters. He has also worked with many other bands in varying guises (most notably, Queens of the Stone Age on their epic album "Songs For The Deaf") and is quite simply the finest drummer, and possibly musician, of my generation. Also, in a world rife with Madonna's and Kanye West's, it's nice to see someone at the top of his game who is down to earth, humble as can be and seemingly enjoying every minute of the ride, as evidenced by the Foo's latest video:

Mr. Grohl, we salute you. Now, altogether...."F**k Glee!"

JB.

Tunes Currently Baking My Potato

1) Paper Heart - Turin Brakes

2) I'll Carry On - Badly Drawn Boy

3) Under Cover of Darkness - The Strokes

4) Bloom - Radiohead

5) Loughborough Suicide - The Young Knives

6) A Night in Tunisia - Bud Powell

7) Little Kids - Kings of Convenience

8) C.r.e.a.m - El Michels Affair

9) Manic Depression - Jimi Hendrix

10) I Don't Owe You Anything - The Smiths

Quote of the Day

"Since I no longer expect anything from mankind except madness, meanness and mendacity; egotism, cowardice and self delusion, I have stopped being a misanthrope"

Irving Layton

Enough!

Today I have decided to embark on an experiment. Albeit a not very important one. I have decided to give up Facebook for at least a week, hopefully further.

Pathetic as it sounds, I can't actually remember the last time I went even a day without checking my facebook, let alone a week. The whole thing has really started to get on my tits lately, leading me to within one click of deleting my account. But like Frodo in the fires of Mount Doom, when it came to the crunch I couldn't bring myself to do it. So I'm starting slow, with a week in exile. We'll go from there.

Not exactly Che Guevara but it's a start, eh?

Peace,

JB.

Things I Love: Crips and Bloods - Made in America

As anyone who knows me will tell you, I am absolutely fascinated with street gangs - a cultural phenomenon here in the U.S. which is as inexplicable as it is dangerous - and where is the gang capital of the country? Good old Los Angeles. My current home.

After years of independent research, I would consider myself somewhat an authority on the subject. Sad as this may seem, I could probably name almost every gang in the city, their rituals and the turf they operate on. So, it pleased me no end to find this documentary "Crips and Bloods: Made in America", which is about the best film I've seen on the subject. Alternately you could watch "Colors" starring Sean Penn and Robert Duvall I suppose, but it is pure shite.

The film itself was produced by Baron Davis, an NBA star who came from the gang infested streets of South Central LA, and narrated by Forrest Whitaker...who gives it that certain grandad-by-the-fire-place quality that I personally love in a documentary. The film attempts to explain exactly when and why young black men started killing each other indiscriminatly in this relatively small part of the world. Of course there is no conclusive answer, however the questions it raises are very, very interesting (and, I have to say, quite disturbing).

Plus it features this man...one of the most captivating speakers I've heard in a long time:

In short, watch it. Now.

Also, if you're looking for a good read on the matter try "Monster: The Autobiography of an LA Gang Member" by Kody Scott. It is truly appalling.

And to think, all this goes on just a few miles from my house!

Peace,

JB.

Pic of the Day

Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha

Congrats once again to the mighty mighty Tottenham Hotspur FC. Off to the quarter finals we go!

Chasing The Dragon

Evening all.

I have spent the past few days utterly incapacitated with a severe bout of flu. Thus affording me the opportunity to fester on my sofa (which by now friends is extremely well-festered) and finish a couple of things I started a long time ago. Namely Kafka's "The Trial" and ABC's hit television series, "Lost".

These might seem like two ends of the artistic spectrum. However, the reason I have decided to comment on these two works in the same context is because the both have very similar qualities. Both are very high-culture pieces (there's a phrase I never thought I'd use when describing a primetime TV show) and both are masterworks in the subtle art of not really telling us anything, but telling us just enough to keep us intrigued. It is a term that narcotics users refer to as 'chasing the dragon'.

Franz Kafka - Mad as a Hatter

Let's start with "The Trial" because this got my goat much more than Lost. You see, when I pick up a novel under the pretense that it is a work of literary genius, or even under the pretense that it's simply a novel, I, at the very least, expect the sodding thing to be finished. Kafka had no such expectation. So I was left scratching my head, feeling rightfully violated yet eerily muttering the words "that was pretty good" in my head. This despite the fact that literally NOTHING is explained.

Or is it?

Maybe I've been raised on a diet of mainstream cinema and lowest common denominator television, spoon-fed resolutions to every story that's ever crossed my path? Maybe the depth and hidden meaning to what's going on eluded my feeble mind? Or maybe it was just shite? Who knows? Either way, something told me that I enjoyed the experience...whatever that's worth. It's always tough broadening the mind I suppose.

The same can certainly be said of "Lost". However I am not do not in the slightest feel cheated of a resolution. The only feeling I'm left with upon finally finishing the 6th series is to bow to it's sheer brilliance. By far the best television show I've ever invested in (well, actually the only show I've ever invested in). It too ended up being surprisingly high-concept, extremely well written and absolutely beautifully acted (save a few truly cringeworthy 'Sawyer moments'). I'm not ashamed to say the ending made me draw a tear or two, because such is the beauty of having such a character driven, long-form narrative that you actually end up caring about these people. Yes, the 'smoke monster' was stupid, no I don't have a clue what the Dharma Initiative is or was and no, I don't quite fully understand the dog thing at the end either (other than bringing the story full circle and choking me right up, once again!). However, I can safely say that Lost is one of the best works I've ever experienced in any form and one I would definitely watch again sometime in the future.

Oh and, as a side note, if you ever get to read one of the scripts, I would highly recommend it. Only because it reads like it was written by a drunken 19-year old frat-boy.

Sample Line: "We move past a young girl, 20, screaming like a motherfucker".

Sample Line #2: "Jack is running, really FUCKING FAST"

Hilarious.

I'm off to drink some medicine and ponder my existence.

Peace,

JB.

Lyrics To Live By

"I'm not like them, but I can pretend

The sun is gone, but I have a light

The day is done, I'm having fun

I think I'm dumb

Or maybe just happy"

Nirvana "Dumb" (1994)

Great British Comedy: Big Train

"Jockeys....something musta spooked 'em"

JB.

About Charlie Sheen

Now, obviously one Mr. Charles Sheen has been in the news quite a lot (to say the least) in America this past week and, much as I've tried to escape it, I too have found myself watching his frankly hilarious interviews with much glee.

What I would like to believe is that our Charlie knows exactly what he's doing and is infact doing it brilliantly. That is, manipulating the media machine with his tongue firmly in cheek, laughing himself to sleep at night and just waiting for CBS to put him back on Two and a Half Men with a huge pay-rise. I mean, what the man has essentially done is bought himself the kind of publicity that people spend millions trying to achieve, also gaining a massive swell of interest about his life and career in the process. I really do sincerely hope he is aware of this fact because if he is, the man is quite simply a genius.

Or, of course, he could just be a crackhead.

I'm praying for the former but, judging by the deranged look in his eyes, I suspect it's a case of the latter.

In the meantime though, I will just continue to piss myself laughing at his comments. The best of which are listed below:

"I am on a drug. It's called Charlie Sheen! It's not available. If you try it once, you will die. Your face will melt off and your children will weep over your exploded body."

"I'm tired of pretending I'm not a total bitchin' rock star from Mars, and people can't figure me out; they can't process me. I don't expect them to. You can't process me with a normal brain."

"I probably took more (crack) than anybody could survive. ... I was bangin' seven-gram rocks and finishing them because that's how I roll, because I have one speed, one gear. ... I'm different. I have a different constitution, I have a different brain, I have a different heart. I got tiger blood, man. Dying's for fools, dying's for amateurs"

Keep it up Charlie, ya big lunatic.

JB.

The King Of Limbs (Re-visited)

So, now that I've had the new Radiohead album for a couple of weeks I can now give a just review, although it's practically impossible to give an impartial point of view because frankly Thom Yorke could sing Happy Birthday and I'd cream myself.

About this album however, I have mixed feelings. On the one hand, I think it's wonderful music and from the opening, off-kilter, scratches of "Bloom" I find myself instantly transported away to some distant, eerie land. Which personally I love about an album - at atmosphere full of subtle flavours. Once there, the following tracks grab and take hold, keeping me firmly stuck in this strange place. They all fit together perfectly. The weird, dub-step groove of "Feral", or the lavishly beautiful "Give Up The Ghost", or the brilliant single "Lotus Flower". Indeed the last track "Separator" is one my favourite Radiohead tracks of recent times. However, I'm never blown away and I can't help the nagging feeling that, after waiting four years, 8 tracks is a pretty pitiful return for such a richly talented bunch. Plus, I've heard several other songs (performed solo by Thom) which were brilliant and did not make the cut...also mildly annoying.

Rumours are already surfacing of a quick follow-up record (ala "Amnesiac to Kid A) and I certainly hope that's the case as I'm still hoping for this song to be released as it's surely too good to remain on the shelf:

All in all though a very solid, if short, record from a band seemingly enjoying making whatever they bloody well feel like and having a jolly good time doing it.

Once again chaps, bravo. However, give us more you swines!

JB.