Watch this video. End of story.
JB.
Tuesday, October 30, 2012
Friday, October 26, 2012
These Eyes - The Guess Who
When it's obnoxiously hot (90 degrees in late October!), there are worse tunes to drive around LA to:
JB
JB
Thursday, October 25, 2012
10 Underrated Classics
Evening all, here is my list of 10 films which, despite being utterly brilliant, get no props at all, from anyone....ever. I highly suggest you go out and watch with immediate effect.
1) Jackie Brown (Quentin Tarantino, 1997) - Everyone's least favourite Tarantino film is nothing short of brilliant. Great acting, beautifully directed and one of the best soundtracks you're likely to hear. Also, features one of the best DeNiro performances of the 1990's and the line "I hate to be the type of n*gga that do a n*gga a favour and then bam, hit the n*gga up for a favour in return, but I gots to be that type of n*gga". Marvelous.
2) Unbreakable (M. Night Shyamalan, 2000) - Got shat on for not being the next "Sixth Sense" but this is actually a rather genius re-telling of a superhero story, and Bruce Willis gives one of his best performances in it. Great film.
3) Being There (Hal Ashby, 1979) - One of the great comedic performances of all time from the absolutely deadpan Peter Sellers, playing the savant-like Chance - who, after the death of his boss, is forced to live in the real world for the very first time. Forest Gump properly ripped this film off (to great effect, I must admit) so if you like the "idiot man-child" genre, look no further my friends.
4) The Running Man (Paul Michael Glaser, 1987) - Or, as it's now known, The Hunger Games. This was by far the best Schwarzenegger flick of the 80's and is, in my opinion a very well-done commentary on a world where entertainment reigns supreme. Also gets eerily more prophetic every time I turn on ABC and Shark Tank (or any other reality show) comes on. Plus Arnold is in top, top form.
5) White Men Can't Jump (Ron Shelton, 1992) - Features a dazzling array of Mum jokes which, frankly, kept me going through my teenage years and a riveting buddy story centered around street basketball in LA. This film is absolutely hilarious, and I defy anyone not to get involved in the action sequences. Makes me want to go out and shoot hoops immediately.
6) The King Of Comedy (Martin Scorcese, 1983) - This could take the top spot for most underrated film of all time. Go and watch it. Now. A work of genius.
7) The Conversation (Francis Ford Coppola, 1974) - Coppola made this gem between making part 1 and 2 of The Godfather series, which one might be tempted to call a bit of a "hot streak". This film, about a surveillance expert who gets in too deep on his latest case, is tense, dark, and very strange. In fact it's almost a bit of an independent art-house type affair, something old Francis is definitely not usually associated with. Also, a must if you're into sound design....which I'm guessing you're not.
8) Road To Perdition (Sam Mendes, 2002) - One of the greatest gangster films ever made, this film was pretty much written off for casting all around nice guy Tom Hanks as cold-blooded assassin Michael Sullivan, however miss this film at your peril. It features Hanks in fine form, and Daniel Craig being absolutely mental and, most of all, the legendary Paul Newman giving my favourite performance of his life as the leader of the Chicago Irish Mob. The cinematography is breathtaking, as is Thomas Newman's score. Should have won every award under the sun. Didn't win shit. Annoying.
9) The Game (David Fincher, 1997) - The Fincher film that no-one ever mentions. Michael Douglas stars in this bonkers film about a corporate fat cat who signs himself up for a service that promises to give him the thrill of his life, only for his life to then completely go down the shitter. The twist at the end is worth your time alone.
10) Being John Malkovich (Spike Jonze, 1999) - Hands down one of the most certifiably insane stories ever committed to celluloid. I personally believe that anyone who aspires to one day become a screenwriter watch this film and see just what can be done when's one's imagination is left to roam free. Half the film takes place in Malkovich's head and there's even a bit where Malkovich enters his own conscience. Madness! Absolutely classic film.
There you have it folks. Netflix should be your next click.
JB.
1) Jackie Brown (Quentin Tarantino, 1997) - Everyone's least favourite Tarantino film is nothing short of brilliant. Great acting, beautifully directed and one of the best soundtracks you're likely to hear. Also, features one of the best DeNiro performances of the 1990's and the line "I hate to be the type of n*gga that do a n*gga a favour and then bam, hit the n*gga up for a favour in return, but I gots to be that type of n*gga". Marvelous.
 |
| "Go on...pull my finger" |
3) Being There (Hal Ashby, 1979) - One of the great comedic performances of all time from the absolutely deadpan Peter Sellers, playing the savant-like Chance - who, after the death of his boss, is forced to live in the real world for the very first time. Forest Gump properly ripped this film off (to great effect, I must admit) so if you like the "idiot man-child" genre, look no further my friends.
4) The Running Man (Paul Michael Glaser, 1987) - Or, as it's now known, The Hunger Games. This was by far the best Schwarzenegger flick of the 80's and is, in my opinion a very well-done commentary on a world where entertainment reigns supreme. Also gets eerily more prophetic every time I turn on ABC and Shark Tank (or any other reality show) comes on. Plus Arnold is in top, top form.
5) White Men Can't Jump (Ron Shelton, 1992) - Features a dazzling array of Mum jokes which, frankly, kept me going through my teenage years and a riveting buddy story centered around street basketball in LA. This film is absolutely hilarious, and I defy anyone not to get involved in the action sequences. Makes me want to go out and shoot hoops immediately.
 |
| "Your mother....etc." |
7) The Conversation (Francis Ford Coppola, 1974) - Coppola made this gem between making part 1 and 2 of The Godfather series, which one might be tempted to call a bit of a "hot streak". This film, about a surveillance expert who gets in too deep on his latest case, is tense, dark, and very strange. In fact it's almost a bit of an independent art-house type affair, something old Francis is definitely not usually associated with. Also, a must if you're into sound design....which I'm guessing you're not.
8) Road To Perdition (Sam Mendes, 2002) - One of the greatest gangster films ever made, this film was pretty much written off for casting all around nice guy Tom Hanks as cold-blooded assassin Michael Sullivan, however miss this film at your peril. It features Hanks in fine form, and Daniel Craig being absolutely mental and, most of all, the legendary Paul Newman giving my favourite performance of his life as the leader of the Chicago Irish Mob. The cinematography is breathtaking, as is Thomas Newman's score. Should have won every award under the sun. Didn't win shit. Annoying.
9) The Game (David Fincher, 1997) - The Fincher film that no-one ever mentions. Michael Douglas stars in this bonkers film about a corporate fat cat who signs himself up for a service that promises to give him the thrill of his life, only for his life to then completely go down the shitter. The twist at the end is worth your time alone.
10) Being John Malkovich (Spike Jonze, 1999) - Hands down one of the most certifiably insane stories ever committed to celluloid. I personally believe that anyone who aspires to one day become a screenwriter watch this film and see just what can be done when's one's imagination is left to roam free. Half the film takes place in Malkovich's head and there's even a bit where Malkovich enters his own conscience. Madness! Absolutely classic film.
 |
| "Malkovich, Malkovich?" |
JB.
Wednesday, October 24, 2012
Behind The Curtain
Greetings one and all (or, more likely, just one). It has been a while and we have lots to catch up so cut right to the chase.
My life of leisure has come to an end, unfortunately. Meaning, to anyone who doesn't know or doesn't care to, that I have had to get a job once again. The pleasure of living off a commercial has dried up and I am back in the world of the working man. To be fair, the transition hasn't been half as painful as I feared it might be - largely due to the fact that I have a really fun job. Basically I edit reels for actors (see: mainly REALLY attractive women) which is most rewarding and has helped my editing chops no end.
More important than that though was the very recent Hollywood Film Festival which was yet another dose of absolute insanity for yours truly. It began with the screening on Sunday, which was fine. However I find it absolutely unforgivable that a cinema as prestigious as the Arclight could get away with such colossally shite projection. I'm not talking about "oh, it's a bit loud" here, either. The poor people involved with the first film in my program must've felt absolutely dreadful afterwards. Half of their entire film was off the screen - literally the lead actress was cut out of half the film. I would have thrown a major tantrum if that happened to us. Luckily it didn't. What did happen to us was that they began by having it cranked way too loud (which I was secretly loving as most films benefit from such volume), they then realised their mistake and turned it down too fucking low! This coming after there was a problem with every single film before ours. Shocking form. As if it isn't hard enough to clamber your way up the industry ladder...
I digress.
That said, I must say that seeing my film screening at my (now former) favourite cinema was an absolute treat. I felt minor nerves, if any at all, and actually managed to watch my film for the first time without an impending sense of doom coursing through my veins. Instead, as we sat there watching it unfold, I felt a tremendous sense of pride and excitement the likes of which I haven't felt before. When your film is playing in a massive darkened room full of people, it suddenly takes on a life of it's on. You can feel the atmosphere in the room. Friends, it is truly a fecking amazing thing to experience and I can't recommend it highly enough....if you're into that sort of thing. Lot's of people came and offered well wishes afterwards so all in all it went rather well, if I do say so myself. I certainly handled the whole thing a lot better so that is a victory in itself, surely?
Now, as Director of a competing film in the festival, one is privvy to certain benefits. The best one being four VIP Tickets to the next evening's Hollywood Film Awards Gala. I didn't really know what, or indeed who, to expect at this event. Indeed I didn't know what it was until some producer told me that a very rich man essentially wants to be part of "the club" so he throws an annual awards ceremony at the Beverly Hilton for celebrities to bask in their own glory one more time. From that description, I predicted a bottom-feeder Kardashian-fest and began plotting ways to spoil everyone's evening (note: all of my plans involved fecal matter)
However, when we arrived at the Hilton, nothing prepared me for what happened next. Screaming fans. Paparazzi flashes. Velvet Ropes. Red Carpets and general mania engulfed us. A proper Hollywood Event, for want of a better phrase. The peasant in me instantly thought we were in the wrong place and almost stopped the cabbie before he'd gone too far. However, to the entrance we went and, inexplicably, entrance was granted. The rest of the evening was a complete whirl of mega-famous people (including at least three absolute idols of mine...and I do mean idols), lots of free booze and generally feeling like being in an anonymous David-Blaine box with the best view to the weirdest party on earth. Sat at our reserved table, watching this mad, nonsensical award-ceremony unfold before us, I couldn't help thinking "how on earth did this happen?"...home felt a long, long way away. Still, happen it did and I am proud to say that our crew were the last to leave the venue by at least half an hour and we managed to steal multiple bottles of wine, bouquets, menus, programmes and food. Class all the way.
I've been attempting to find some meaning to this whole affair, if only to provide a conclusive paragraph to this post. Yet somehow I can't find the words. Maybe there is no meaning. Maybe sometimes you've just got to sit back and consider yourself a lucky boy to be part of the absurdity. That I do, my good people. That I do.
Peace and love.
Juan.
My life of leisure has come to an end, unfortunately. Meaning, to anyone who doesn't know or doesn't care to, that I have had to get a job once again. The pleasure of living off a commercial has dried up and I am back in the world of the working man. To be fair, the transition hasn't been half as painful as I feared it might be - largely due to the fact that I have a really fun job. Basically I edit reels for actors (see: mainly REALLY attractive women) which is most rewarding and has helped my editing chops no end.
More important than that though was the very recent Hollywood Film Festival which was yet another dose of absolute insanity for yours truly. It began with the screening on Sunday, which was fine. However I find it absolutely unforgivable that a cinema as prestigious as the Arclight could get away with such colossally shite projection. I'm not talking about "oh, it's a bit loud" here, either. The poor people involved with the first film in my program must've felt absolutely dreadful afterwards. Half of their entire film was off the screen - literally the lead actress was cut out of half the film. I would have thrown a major tantrum if that happened to us. Luckily it didn't. What did happen to us was that they began by having it cranked way too loud (which I was secretly loving as most films benefit from such volume), they then realised their mistake and turned it down too fucking low! This coming after there was a problem with every single film before ours. Shocking form. As if it isn't hard enough to clamber your way up the industry ladder...I digress.
That said, I must say that seeing my film screening at my (now former) favourite cinema was an absolute treat. I felt minor nerves, if any at all, and actually managed to watch my film for the first time without an impending sense of doom coursing through my veins. Instead, as we sat there watching it unfold, I felt a tremendous sense of pride and excitement the likes of which I haven't felt before. When your film is playing in a massive darkened room full of people, it suddenly takes on a life of it's on. You can feel the atmosphere in the room. Friends, it is truly a fecking amazing thing to experience and I can't recommend it highly enough....if you're into that sort of thing. Lot's of people came and offered well wishes afterwards so all in all it went rather well, if I do say so myself. I certainly handled the whole thing a lot better so that is a victory in itself, surely?
Now, as Director of a competing film in the festival, one is privvy to certain benefits. The best one being four VIP Tickets to the next evening's Hollywood Film Awards Gala. I didn't really know what, or indeed who, to expect at this event. Indeed I didn't know what it was until some producer told me that a very rich man essentially wants to be part of "the club" so he throws an annual awards ceremony at the Beverly Hilton for celebrities to bask in their own glory one more time. From that description, I predicted a bottom-feeder Kardashian-fest and began plotting ways to spoil everyone's evening (note: all of my plans involved fecal matter)
However, when we arrived at the Hilton, nothing prepared me for what happened next. Screaming fans. Paparazzi flashes. Velvet Ropes. Red Carpets and general mania engulfed us. A proper Hollywood Event, for want of a better phrase. The peasant in me instantly thought we were in the wrong place and almost stopped the cabbie before he'd gone too far. However, to the entrance we went and, inexplicably, entrance was granted. The rest of the evening was a complete whirl of mega-famous people (including at least three absolute idols of mine...and I do mean idols), lots of free booze and generally feeling like being in an anonymous David-Blaine box with the best view to the weirdest party on earth. Sat at our reserved table, watching this mad, nonsensical award-ceremony unfold before us, I couldn't help thinking "how on earth did this happen?"...home felt a long, long way away. Still, happen it did and I am proud to say that our crew were the last to leave the venue by at least half an hour and we managed to steal multiple bottles of wine, bouquets, menus, programmes and food. Class all the way.
I've been attempting to find some meaning to this whole affair, if only to provide a conclusive paragraph to this post. Yet somehow I can't find the words. Maybe there is no meaning. Maybe sometimes you've just got to sit back and consider yourself a lucky boy to be part of the absurdity. That I do, my good people. That I do.
Peace and love.
Juan.
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