Billy No Mates

"Oh, you've got a TV show? That's great"

So friends, here we are again. Stuck in the endless merry-go-round that is the entertainment industry complex. This is now my third time at the rodeo, as they say, and it gets no easier. In fact quite the opposite.

Last year, when doing the film festival circuit with my short film "Love Is...", I found myself at one of those panel Q&A sessions. The people on stage consisted of various actors, filmmakers and - most pertinently to this post - agents. Of course, a variety of shameless hacks in the crowd bombarded the agents with all manner of questions in the vein of "will you please watch my film?" or "will you please sign me?" or "will you please be godfather to my only child?" etc. So embarrassing was this relentless medieval-style baying that one agent eventually intervened and said "Listen, let me just say this. All of the time and energy and effort you guys are seemingly putting into getting an agent, instead put it into creating good shit. If you make something good, trust me we will find you"

Those words hit me like a pick-axe to the testes. At a time when I was feeling completely bewildered by the whole film festival thing, this saint came along and told me exactly what I always hoped in my heart would be true. You don't have to be a marketing genius, or indeed a silver-tongued door to door salesman, to succeed in this industry. It is, after all, about the art. I mean just look at all my heroes, they didn't sell their souls to the devil and they turned out just fine. In the everlasting words of "Field of Dreams" -- if you build it, they will come. Right?

Someone order a group of bell-ends?

Turns out that was a load of bollocks, and here's why...(Note: there's no way of writing the following without sounding bitter so please just rest assured that I'm not). The reviews thus far for "Starving In Hollywood" have been nothing short of spectacular. Literally everyone who has seen it has nothing but glowing things to say. From friends and family to industry veterans, the response has been the same - "I can't wait to see this on TV". However, the journey one must take from obscurity to...um...scurity(?) is a strange and twisted one, my friends. If I were a musician, it seems relatively simple. I write good songs. I play those good songs to people. I will be actively sought out by record companies who rely on new talent to keep the cash cow churning. I will be advanced money to record an album. I will tour extensively. I will thus have a career. Or at least the beginning of one. Do Film & TV reps have a similar philosophy as to unearthing new talent? Apparently not.

Instead, there seems to be an ever-growing wall of Mordor-type thing happening. By which I mean that if you are a nobody - which, at last count, I definitely am - then no-one gives a shit about you or anything you've done. We've tried calling producers, agents, tv networks and it's always the same: "(Fill in blank) does not accept unsolicited material. Now fuck off and have a nice life". Because the problem is, when swimming in the murky waters of the unsolicited, by default you are instantly lumped in with everything else floating around with you. I'm not putting our stuff on top of anybody else's, my point is merely that for anyone coming out of the pool, it's already a 'no' by virtue of where your material came from. However, if I'm soandsowhatshisname and I present my latest 'sidesplitting' venture, merely because of who I am, I am indeed now 'solicited'. This only confirms what I had previously written about here and here. If you get an in, you're laughing. Your stock instantly goes up about twelve-fold and whatever your peddling (in our case, abortion jokes and paper mache shark heads) is instantly met with not disdain and trepidation but with glee and giddy-eyed anticipation. The question, the dilemma me and my partners are currently facing, is...how do we go from no-one to someone?

Climb me...I dare you

Especially when all avenues seem to be a figure-eight scalectrix track of rejection. TV networks don't accept material unless it comes from an agent. Agents don't accept materials unless coming from a production company. Production companies don't accept material unless from an agent and, oh wait, I'm back where I started again. It is a very weird, surreal position to be in, and one which I am finding it most difficult to negotiate. I feel like a sperm frantically head butting away at the egg, watching all the millions of other sperms doing exactly the same thing and hoping to christ that I can burrow inside first.

However, this is the point. In every artist's, or creative-type's, career there comes a time when you have to strap on a pair and do the dirty work. It would be so easy for me to move on to the next creative endeavor. It'll be fun, keep me busy, and be another beautiful adventure to embark on. The problem with that philosophy is, however, that when done with that project, you're back to exactly the point you were before. You're still in the unsolicited pile and now a couple of years older and greyer. All you've succeeded in doing is turning a potential career into an actual hobby. Therefore, now is as good a time as any to get out there and do the awkward, uncomfortable, downright rubbish, part of trying to coerce people into parting with their hard-earned cash to take a chance on you and your project. No easy task but an abundantly necessary one.

Onwards and...onwards, my good people.

JB.

Dialogue Of The Day

Dan: "Everyone wants to be happy"
Larry: "Depressives don't. They want to be unhappy to confirm they're depressed. If they were happy they couldn't be depressed anymore. They'd have to go out in the world and live...which can be depressing"

From "Closer" - (Mike Nichols, 2004)

Only God Forgives

Well well well, so it transpires that I have just watched what may be the most bonkers film I've laid eyes on in my life. Nicolas Windig Refn's follow-up to 2011's ultra cool, ultra violent, Ryan Gosling starring "Drive" is an even cooler, even more violent Gosling re-teaming and the results are quite astonishing.

Dialogue? No thanks.

Now, call me crazy but I am bored to tears with the same old tentpole, superhero, generic bollocks that studios are churning out these days (Avengers, I'm looking at you). It seems more than ever that the divide between box-office success and good films is becoming inescapably large. Edgy, innovative, original content is being pushed further under the rug and loud noisy fanfare VFX shite is all over the place. I mean honestly, 'White House Down'? Do me a f*cking favour.

Thus it is my eternal pleasure to report on a film that made a point of grabbing hold of me by the proverbials, dragging me through the sand and refusing to let go. It made me squeam, made me squirm, made me laugh (unintentionally), made me cower, made me gasp and ultimately left me completely drained by the end. No real action to speak of, no noise, no special effects, no punchy dialogue (the entire script must've been about four pages long), the camera moves in an almost painfully slow, methodical way during each equally methodical scene, however this only goes to show that you need not the "ooo's" and "ahhs" typically associated with a movie-going experience to get something from it.

The plot is loosely based around a crime family operating out of Bangkok. Gosling, in mad silent mode, plays the youngest of three lunatic brothers who is charged with avenging one of their deaths. However, on the other side of the law is a man simply known as "The Angel of Death" who maraudes around the neon-drenched underworld handing out his own punishments to all who cross his path. The two are set on a collision course by Gosling's diabolical mother (played brilliantly by Kristen Scott Thomas) and there you have it. Pretty simple fare, right? Wrong.

Dream sequences, gruesome murders, torture, implied incest, completely random screaming and some first class battery are all shot and executed in such a way that completely blindsides you. It's like being in a terrible, terrible nightmare for 90 minutes, then being woken up by a lunatic singing karaoke. It is a completely brutal, unflinching portrayal of life in the underworld and has a claustrophobic, grim, blackness to it that I imagine people wrapped up in that side of life feel on a daily basis.

Refn is proving to be quite a master of his craft. I thought 'Drive' was basically a standard gangster plot but directed with such perfection that it elevated the film to a new level entirely. Something only a few people on earth are capable of. He does the same again here. The camera is smooth and steady. Every single frame is meticulously put together. The cinematography is absolutely outstanding -- possibly the best I've ever seen. Every shot looks like a painting. You could literally take any freeze frame from any scene and it would hang happily on your wall. The music is also great. At times very unsettling, at times pulsating, it subtly adds to the dread in the air quite beautifully.

"Wax on"....etc

When it premiered at Cannes this year, apparently half of the crowd booed and half gave it a standing ovation, and that really couldn't sum this film up more accurately. I can imagine many, many people thinking it's the worst film ever made, however, by the same token, I think if you appreciate cinema in any way, it'll be a treat that gets better with age. There are scenes which are beyond ridiculous (the dinner with mum and whore scene alone stands-out) but in the best possible way. It panders to no-one. Instead, Refn is just hanging his bollocks right there on the screen for all to see and screaming "have a load of that". Fair play, my friend. Fair play.

Much like last year's "Amour" I am completely shocked, appalled, and totally in awe of this piece of work. Also like "Amour", despite my love for it, I'm in no rush to ever see it again.

Over and out.

JB.

Absurd Rap Lyrics #558

"Stepped up to a jet-black kid, he started speaking Spanish. But he wasn't from Panama, I asked him how he get so dark? The n*gga said SUNTANAMA!!!"

From "Damage" - Ol' Dirty Bastard (1995)

Hello

Slowly the sloth emerged from it's cave; it's eyes burning from the daylight, it's hair greasy and lank, it's bones protruding from the flesh. The creature, malnourished and broken, inched forward into what appeared to be a brave new world. The blinding light of day gradually began to subside, pouring the world back into the creatures eyes. A new lease of life flowed through his tired veins and he uttered to himself "must....update....blog".

So here we are folks. A new record for me neglecting this pointless debacle has been set and here I am with a spare 20 minutes to fill all of you wonderful people (see: no-one) on what's been going on in my sorry little life.

First, I ventured across land and ocean and found myself back in London for a wee while. Now, I'm not usually one for banging on about the weather but my god it was beautiful. I haven't been back in the summer for years, let alone when every single day was a blazing haven of sunshine and laughter as it was in this case. England really is an entirely different country when the sun is out. A lovely time was had by me and all involved...I think.

Next, we had the official premiere of my sketch show "Starving In Hollywood". To give you the cliff notes, people weren't laughing as hard as I expected for the first 20 minutes. Therefore I threw what can only be described as a "tantrum" and went outside for a bit. However, after the intermission the entire crowd was absolutely rolling and I think it's safe to say that what then transpired was one of the best nights I've ever had. I could not be more proud of the finished product and the responses we've had have been nothing short of fantastic. So far so wonderful as far as that goes. Of course, since then I've been battling the inevitable despair that follows finishing a huge project, and the rigmarole of trying to monetize the bastard....but more on that later.

In other news, I'm addicted to the show "Geordie Shore" - which is literally about a bunch of complete morons from Newcastle fighting, shagging, and generally dumbing down the next generation almost single-handedly. Example quote: "Today we're ganning skydiving. The only thing better would be if I had a bird strapped to us, instead of a bloke, and she was sucking me off". I need help, I know.

Films I've seen and enjoyed include:

"Cloud Atlas" - which I thought was absolutely brilliant. I can't even begin to explain what it was about but having now seen it twice, I think it's pretty much a masterpiece. I think.

"Side Effects" - Steven Soderbergh is the nuts of a director and his cool, steady hand is all over this thriller about depression medication.

"Rosemary's Baby" - A classic from the 60's featuring a star-making performance from Mia Farrow and some truly creepy stuff happening. The 'hail satan' scenes alone make this film worth watching.

"Fruitvale Station" - Winner of Sundance, indie sensation and absolute heartbreaker. The true story of the last day of Oscar Grant III is a gut-wrenching, beautifully made film. Oscar season watch out.

"Alan Partridge: Alpha Papa" - Although nothing of cinematic note takes place and the new Alan Partridge bares little to no resemblance to the old Alan Partridge, it still made me laugh.

TV Shit beyond Geordie Shore I'm watching:

"The Wire" - I'm now up to season 2 and it's great. Hard to follow, but great nonetheless.

"Danny Dyer's Deadliest Men" - Again, much like Geordie Shore, I am acutely aware that this is absolute trash TV. However, I think Danny Dyer might be the funniest human alive, without having a clue about it. Unless he does, in which case the man is a genius.

"Breaking Bad" - The last 8 episodes have begun and tickle me sideways it's already getting completely mental. I forgot just how masterful this show is. As soon as the first episode of the last season ended, I remembered.

Other than that it's all the same old guff. I'm sure I've done more interesting things and will feel the need to write about those interesting things in vivid and unnecessary detail in the near future but for now, the kettle has boiled and I'm off to have a nice cup of tea.

Peace and Love,

JB.