Phillip Seymour Hoffman

This is incredible. Have a watch and admire one of the greatest.

JB.

Great Reads: "The Disaster Artist" by Greg Sestero

The Room. A film written by, directed by, produced by and indeed starring a man named Tommy Wiseau. It is widely regarded as the single worst film ever made, which is saying something considering there exists "Batman and Robin". However, such is the depth of the atrocity of this film that it has, somehow, against inconceivable odds, become a cult classic. Unbelievably, large cities all over the world, yes…the world, still continue to screen this film on a regular basis to this day and, seemingly long into the future.

This fact wouldn't be as miraculous as it is if you'd never seen a frame of this film. It can't be that bad? I hear you all think. After all, it is making money and people still flood to see it. You must be wondering.  Again, this attitude can only be held if you have never seen a frame of this film. I have. It is unbelievably crap. However, so spectacular, so unfathomable is the crapness that I found myself compelled beyond my will to not only watch it once, but watch it repeatedly over time, and indeed urge my friends to do that same. Why? I will never, ever know.

So, who is this strange, tasteless, talent-vortex, Tommy Wiseau? Therein lies the key question (one which remains unanswered) in this book. Written by Greg Sestero and Tom Bissell - although methinks I know who did the bulk of the work - this book tells the story of the making of The Room, through the eyes of Sestero himself. In the film, Greg plays the 'character' of Mark - named after Wiseau's favorite actor…Mark Damon. He also served as a line producer and seemingly only friend in the world to Tommy himself.

From the opening page, this book is laugh-out-loud-people-think-I'm-a-lunatic-on-the-train hilarious, and I do not use that term lightly. I have never in my life found myself buckled over, belly laughing, to the written page as much as I was here. From the moment that Sestero lays eyes on Mr. Wiseau in an acting class in San Francisco, absolute hilarity ensues. The two men - one a handsome model/rising starlet in the Hollywood scene, the other a deranged, lank-haired lunatic - forge one of the most bizarre friendships that has surely ever existed and went on to make one of the worst films of all time. Together. Despite being embroiled in a sort of personal cold war seemingly the entire time of knowing each other. Brilliant.

What makes this book so incredibly fascinating is down to several factors. One, the story of the film itself, which cost 6 million dollars to make, was self-financed by Tommy Wiseau (this despite no-one knowing where the money came from…to this day), saw three crews resign and has probably more plot-holes than I've had hot dinners. Yet, somehow, some way, it not only got made, but became a success. It's the stuff of Hollywood legend.

Two, the style of the narrative, which alternates between "present day" on set stuff from the making of the film itself and "flashback" stuff of Greg Sestero and his rise through the ranks of Hollywood, and I say that in the loosest possible terms, is a very interesting way to tell this story, the parallels between these two lives and the lives of many, many, people in this town are scarily frequent.

Finally, three, the use of two movies to illustrate the weird goings on transpiring before us. Those movies being the mighty "Sunset Boulevard" and "The Talented Mr. Ripley", neither of which could be more apt. The former being the dark Billy Wilder classic about a man who befriends an elderly former starlet, now in her twilight years, the latter being the one where Mark Damon does all sorts of bad shit.

It's a hilarious tale of ups, downs, heartbreaks, triumphs and some spectacularly unreasonable tantrums. But, above all, this book is about the sheer power of having a clear vision and being utterly unwavering in the belief you have in yourself. All you need is a weird accent, an unlimited bank balance and, apparently a complete and utter lack of self-awareness. As for an answer to the question 'who is Tommy Wiseau'? I don't think we'll ever know, and the world is a little bit better for it.

Please watch the film and read the book. Now. You will thank me for it.

JB.

Fiery Hawk

This is almost exactly like just about every commercial audition I've ever been in for:

JB.

The Master

One of the best scenes of the last few years…

JB

Starving In Hollywood - Trailer #2

Well, folks. Guess who drank too much coffee and did a new trailer in the twilight hours of yestermorn? Me. Enjoy.



Cheers,

JB.

Love Is... (Outtakes)

So, as my current my project inches towards completion, it took me back to Vimeo where I found this. Brought back some good memories.




Cheers,

JB.

Michael Shannon - Legend

So this week I went to a screening of Michael Shannon's new film "The Iceman", a biopic of mob-hitman and all around lunatic Richard Kuklinski. I already knew a bit about the man so I went in with high hopes. However, I'm sorry to say the film was a massive disappointment, the only highlight being seeing David Schwimmer playing a mafia villain, which was fecking hilarious.

However, after the screening they had a Q&A with Shannon himself, an actor who I personally think is one of the best working at the moment (for further proof, check out "Take Shelter" or "Boardwalk Empire"). I couldn't help but be engulfed by the man himself, who - despite his often borderline insane on-screen persona - just oozes charisma and, most importantly, class. I can't tell you how refreshing it is to see a successful actor who has the right attitude about it all. Just a very down to earth human being, to the point where - after fielding moronic question and moronic question from the audience (free screenings attract LA's finest mentalists, including a pony-tailed man who I caught drinking out of the bathroom sink) - the orator wanted to call a halt to proceedings, only for old Mikey to offer to stay and answer more inane questions from the geek squad before him. That alone, friends, is worthy of my applause.

Anyway, this dealing with a man who's career is about to skyrocket, came at the perfect time for me personally as lord knows I am getting severely jaded with the bottom-feeder crowd here in Hollywood. It reminded me once again that you don't have to be a twat to succeed in life and if there is any further doubt as to Shannon's legend status, just watch this video - which is him reading a REAL letter from a Sorority girl to her chapter. Brilliant:

Cheers,

JB.

Heroes to Humanity: #821 - Richard Harris

Born in Limerick in 1930, old Dicky boy was one of the few at the time born into a relatively privileged background (Ireland was pretty feckin' poor in those days). However, as a youth he decided to escape the trappings of his life on the Emerald Isle to head to the badlands of London, where he wished to pursue a career in acting.

"I would consider myself an excessive compulsive. Everything I do has to be excessive. Like for instance if I fall in love, it has to be excessive. I overpower the woman with devotion and love and sex, to such an extent I exhaust them"

After arriving in the big city, Harris tried to find himself a place to stay. In doing so, he stumbled across an ad for a bedsit which read "Black or Irish need not apply". In response, he smashed his fist through the window and stole the sign - which he kept for the rest of his life as motivation. From there he went and applied at the London Academy of Music & Dramatic Art (LAMDA), finding the headteacher and proclaiming "I've done my fuckin' research on you lot, and you haven't had one star graduate from here. I will be your first star". As a result, they let him audition and he got in. Later on, Harris saw the same headteacher who told him that his was the single worst audition he'd ever seen, but "anyone who had the balls to perform that badly in front of a room full of people had to have something"...and a legend was born.

Upon graduating from LAMDA, Harris quickly made good on his promise, landing several leading man performances and becoming a full-blown Hollywood star with the release of "This Sporting Life" wherein he put in a great performance as a disgruntled coal miner who becomes a rugby star. From there, Harris really started to move through the gears.

"The difference between me and someone like Tom Cruise is that if you see pictures of me going to one of my premieres, you'll see a bottle of Vodka in my hand. If you see Cruise, he's holding a bottle of Evian water. That's the difference - a bottle of Evian water" 

Now, while still in his teenage years, Ricky suffered a terrible bout of Tuberculosis, almost killing him. It was after surviving this experience that he decided to live life to it's maximum capacity, and if there's an industry in which life is fully allowed to be lived at this capacity, it is the good old entertainment industry. The perfect storm was created and one of the most notorious Hollywood Hell-Raisers flourished. He would turn up to set drunk, disappear for days on end (only to re-surface with bevvy of beautfiul birds on his arm), piss off untold movie stars, go to premieres drunk, fight any and all and generally behave like an absolute lunatic on every level. However, as is the way in this town, the studios allowed all of this behaviour because he was a proven money-maker and an actor of the finest pedigree.

Indeed so legendary was his debauchery that, after flying 12 hours across the world for a shag - getting royally battered the whole way - he ended up at the doctors, who informed him that his blood-sugar was dangerously high and he was to give up drinking at once. So what did he do? In his words..."So, I went out and did Coke, Heroin, LSD, Speed, anything I could get my hands on". Brilliant.

"I was a sinner. I slugged some people. I hurt many people. And it's true, I never looked back to see the casualties.... I hate movies. They're a waste of time. I could be in a pub having more fun talking to idiots rather than sitting down and watching idiots perform."

It wasn't all fun and games however. One night, our Richard did so much coke that he collapsed and overdosed. Again, almost dying. This time though, he decided enough was enough and became teetotal for 15 years, in which time he enjoyed a renaissance in his acting career, starring in films such as "Unforgiven", "Gladiator" and "Harry Potter". However, his role as professor Dumbledore was to be his last, as his health devolved rapidly - concluding in a collapse at London's Ritz Hotel. However, even when being stretchered out of the building, Harris managed one last joke - yelling to mortified guests of the Hotel Restaurant "It was the food!". What a fucking legend.

Anyway, I could write for weeks about this man and still not remotely do him justice. An actor whose career is littered with magnificent performances, a womanizer of the highest order, and possibly the greatest storyteller of all time. What a refreshing thing it is to see a man who had it all, did it all with charm, style and class, and found himself completely unaffected by being a "performer" or an "artist" or however else you with to aggrandise the whole thing. And surrounded as I am by the boring, synthetic,  wet mops that we are treated to today, I think it is a damn shame that more like Richard Harris don't come along - just normal blokes who like a bit of a drink, a bit of a shag and don't get caught up in all the self-involvement of it all. Yes, he may have been a lunatic, but the best kind of lunatic, wherein he leaves a trail of incredible stories and smiles across the faces of all who knew him.



I shall drink a pint of Guiness in your honour, sir. You should too my friends.

Cheers,

JB.

2013: An Absolute Belter (So Far)...

Well shaft me sideways with a blind man's stick, what a January that was. Of course a by-product of having such a wonderful month is the absolute lack of posting on this blog. However, last I checked, this fact had absolutely no impact on the daily life of anyone...so cest la vie really.

You got that right, random plane picture off Google Images

Upon returning to Satan's Playground, after the relaxed (see: eating and drinking myself into oblivion) happiness of being back home for Xmas, life has been a blur. I went straight back to work for a few days, then shot all weekend, then went back to work for a full week, then shot all weekend again, then booked a commercial, for which I had I to fly to Seattle for 4 days, then came home and got royally shitfaced. Santori times indeed.

First off I should report that we managed to finish principal photography on "Starving In Hollywood" - my beautifully insane little sketch show. Thus concluding one of the more stressful, challenging shoots I've ever embarked on. By the end of the second week (without having a day off) I was absolutely, mercilessly knackered beyond pale. However, the experience was completely and utterly worth it as we got more funny material in the can than I know what to do with. I've never worked with more talented actors. Everyone who came in to do even the smallest part was nothing short of magnificent - making already mildly offensive material positively appalling. I'd like to think this was down to the shrewdness of my directing skills, however I'm pretty sure it wasn't.

Also included in these two weekends was the most efficient day of shooting I've ever had at the helm of a project. Nothing makes me happier than starting the day with a schedule in hand, utterly terrified at what's ahead, only to then find that everything goes smoother than you ever could've imagined, you've got all the coverage you wanted and you're wrapped precisely when you intended to be. It makes a man realise that he may not be as incompetent as once feared - a feeling that is indescribably great, my friends.

Then came the commercial and a trip to Seattle. This marked the first time I had ever shot "on location" and I must say that it is something I could get used to, and get used to quite quickly. To be paid handsomely to travel to place you've never been is literally everything I've ever wanted in life. Indeed there was a moment when filming our twelfth hour of the first day, freezing my tits off in the pissing rain when a huge grin stretched it's way across my face and I thought "blimey, I'm in f*cking SEATTLE!!!". It didn't help the scene much, but felt good nonetheless. I can't even imagine doing something like "Lord of the Rings". I'd have a permanent woody, I think.

Seattle - they love a good market

Also, I can't begin to tell you what a relief it was to just be an actor on a shoot - literally for the first time in ages. The first few hours I found myself inadvertently fretting about how everything would cut together, or whether we were on schedule, or whether the continuity was working, or whether barking dogs would ruin takes or blah blah blah. Then suddenly I realised I had nothing to do with that and should just relax and focus on being all handsome and hilarious. So I did. Sort of. Anyway, the crew I worked with up there really were some of the loveliest people I've ever come across and the whole experience was one of the better ones I've had. To top it all off, I had almost a full day to myself before I left to go and explore the city. And what a beautful city it is. I can't be arsed to go all "Lonely Planet" and extoll it's virtues here - you want that shit, go elsewhere hombre - but I will simply say, in my simplest Essex slang, it was the absolute bollocks.

All in all, as the title suggests, 2013 has been pretty excellent so far. More to come hopefully. Until then, good people of the interweb, here's a song that I have not been able to get out of my head for the past ten days. Enjoy.

Peace,

JB.

P.S - The Superbowl....pile of shite. That is all.

Mired In Muck

Good day fellow Earth dwellers,

Once again (and I'm aware there is a recurring theme developing here) this blog has been sorely neglected, leaving my hordes of salivating fans hungry and desperate for new material. So, to the many thousands of you that have been in contact with not just myself but the world's media, I wholeheartedly apologise. However, in my defence, it has been a very busy time. When I'm not editing reels for the actors of this town, I am home and editing our sketch show - the mighty "Starving In Hollywood". Now, when writing and creating said show, I thought "oh, this will be easy, each item will be a pleasurable summer's breeze to edit. Then it will be simply a matter of putting them side by side and Robert's your mother's brother". This has proven to NOT be the case.

Never trust your television, kids. 

You see, when creating fake reality shows, games shows, commercials, music videos, news reports etc etc etc I had sorely neglected the need for Motion Graphics. Motion Graphics? What the feck is that? I hear you hark. Well, friends, it is essentially the combination of visual arts, animation and sound design which is, to my feeble brain, an abominable nightmare to edit. You see, it's not like editing a film, which is difficult enough, where there is a single narrative, and merely a manipulation of image and sound to create a story. Here you are doing that EVERY SINGLE TIME you begin a new sketch. Each one requires an almost ungodly amount of title cards, animated images, flashy, snazzy cuts, and all manner of visual and audio special effects.

A good, healthy, political debate

Some people reading that may think...piece of piss, what's he complaining about?...and to that I say, CALL ME. With immediate effect, as someone who actually knows how to do this stuff would be wonderful. However, as you might expect, these Motion Graphics chaps are in high demand and very short supply. So the burden has mostly fell on the shoulders of yours truly. Now, I'm not saying I mind, but yet again I find myself hopelessly in over my head and learning everything on the fly. The good thing is that it is all learnable and all of it is learnable in the bowels of youtube, where any question I may have is swiftly answered by a 12 year-old with a nifty "how to" video. Indeed it has been these interactions with the younglings of the interweb (take that how you will) which have slowly restored my faith in humanity. I think it speaks to the very best of human nature that these people spend hours toiling away finding out how to decipher this stuff, then have the good grace to put their findings online for simpletons like me to borrow and learn from. Those people should be the fibre of our society and lauded as such.

Perfectly normal...

The good news at the end of all this is that we are getting closer and closer to having a rather excellent series on our hands (at least...it makes me laugh) and something that will stand forever. I suppose that's the beauty of art isn't it? No matter how much toil and tyranny one suffers in creating it, when it's done, it's there forever - a capsule in time. It matters not that that time capsule may feature items such as "Willy Circus", "Dingo vs. Baby" and "Little Abortion Annie" it is still a time capsule nonetheless.

Love and other shite.

JB.

Starving In Hollywood - Trailer

Here is a promotional teaser for my new sketch show. Enjoy.



The revolution will not be televised.

JB.

Sketch Show

Filming of my new sketch show has begun and the past week has been absolutely mental.

To fill you in, I met some peeps at a party. We started talking. They showed me a sketch show they had previously wrote and directed. It was utterly insane, slightly perverse and in-your-face enough for me to love it. Thus they brought me in to help write, direct and act in what is now known as "Starving In Hollywood". Thus begins the story.

Today was day three of shooting at a crazy house deep in the San Fernando Valley where many, many debauched things have occurred (not least, several porno shoots - in the past, of course). In those three days I have been in a bikini, been a German professor, been a news reporter, been a big, black, dildo, been a sock puppet, eaten dirt and probably anything else you could imagine.

Suffice to say it has been fun, as I always expected it to be. However what's been the most pleasant aspect of shooting this show has been working with a wonderful group talented, lovely people who are game for anything. It has been the absolute antithesis of everything "Hollywood" and, as a result, an absolute breath of fresh air. It feels so nice to be amongst this merry bunch of misfits creating hilarious stuff (one hopes, anyway) and despite how close to the bone the subject matter is - and trust me, some of it pretty fecking close - people have just mucked in and gone all-out. It's been hot, extremely cramped, and a lot of hard bloody work, however it has been a joy to be behind and in front of the camera again. Indeed doing projects like this reminds me of exactly why I love doing what I do.

The other element of this project I have found thoroughly satisfying has been taking the piss out of everything I dislike about mainstream culture. It somehow feels cathartic to get these things off one's chest. Skewering celebrities, politicians, musicians, reality shows, or just the industry in general has been nothing short of delightful fun. Ultimately, of course, this sort of behaviour is akin to throwing stones at a vast cliff face but, metaphorically speaking, it's good exercise.

Hopefully I'll have some footage to post here soon and all in all, although knackered and massively sunburned, consider this big-headed human happy.


Peace and poo-jokes,


John.

My Film On The Big Screen: A Review

So, after drinking far too much free Pepsi I am now high as a kite and wide awake. A perfect time to review the earlier events of this evening. Namely the first ever screening of my film. I'll try and talk you through the emotional rollercoaster. It was quite a ride.

All day I had been a simmering brew of nerves. However, as soon as I set foot inside the festival, I became a full-boiled nightmare. I haven't experienced sheer, gut-wrenching terror like that since the first time I ever did stand-up. I might even go so far as to say I was more nervous on this occasion. Anyway, the entire lobby was packed with people, there was a Red Carpet, people wanted pictures of us...the whole thing just sent my arsehole into oblivion. You see, deep down, I had always suspected that my dislike for publicity was a conceited attempt at staying grounded or something. I think I always suspected that when faced with the "red carpet" and the "Q&A" type-scenarios I would instantly become the ham I've always been, love every second, discard all my friends and family and become the next Jodie Marsh. Turns out I really am quite publicity-shy. After seeing pictures of the evening, the utter discomfort I was feeling inside apparently wasn't betrayed by my face. I was a wreck.

Then of course came the actual screening. We were in a two-hour slot, which is FAR too long to be showing short films. Especially when the first hour was utterly appalling, and I'm saying this as a fan of film. They were shocking. So much so, in fact, that they had somehow managed to kill the room. An experience I had previously suffered many times on the stand-up circuit.

Then, about an hour or so in, came mine.

I was already hopped-up on Pepsi and dread and when the first musical notes began I felt myself shrinking into my seat like a chocolate rabbit by the fire. Now, the first rule of reviving a dead room in stand-up is that it takes them a while to trust you - you have to win them back and let them know you're not like the others. The same applied here. However this meant, in this scenario, that for the start of the film, it became plainly apparent that no-one was laughing. No-one. Silencio. "That's it", I thought, "their will has been broken. They've become jaded by the pure tripe put before them for the past hour. They hate my film."

A few smatterings of laughter began. Then a nice moment where everyone jumped. That felt good. I started to move slightly more upright, we were winning them back. Then next thing you know, the whole place laughed loud. They had finally warmed to the story. I was now almost fully upright (not sexually, of course) when suddenly, out of nowhere, a moment of actual warmth, satisfaction and achievement hit me over the head like a ton of bricks. I could see my own stupid little (see: massive) face up there on the big screen, in a film that I'd also wrote & directed, and it was getting laughs. Not only that but the exact message I was trying to convey was getting across. People were on the character's side. For a brief moment in time, I was in Woody Allen territory. I could have creamed myself right there and then.

Obviously there's no way of writing about this sort of thing without disappearing completely up your own arse, which I by now probably have in your eyes, and it's certainly quite presumptuous to put myself in the same stratosphere as the Woodster, but the reason I do write this is because lately I have been really disillusioned with life in "the industry". Surrounded by bottom-feeding swine with not a moral or shred of dignity to their name. Everyone telling me it's not possible, or you've got to do it like this, or like that or you've got to "network" or whatever the fuck people who think they know better than you tell you. The point is, in all that I kind of lost why I got into this in the first place. It's easy to lose touch with that when you're caught up in the hustle of 'making it' but the reason I got into this game after 28 years of drifting was, of course, to get up on that big screen and entertain a crowd. Plain and simple. To be a small part of the magic of cinema, where people go to a darkened room, sit in front of a giant screen and "oooo" and "ahhh" at what's before them. To see that happening, with something I created, before my eyes was an absolute honor and a privilege. I felt like a little kid again.

I've gone up my arse again, I know.

Right, I'm getting all soppy now and it's late so I'll stop rabbiting. But overall, the screening was a big success. People had very kind words and I even managed to duck out of the old Q&A session afterwards. Marvelous.

To everyone that has shown, and continues to show, support. I honestly can't thank you enough.

Rock n' Roll.

JB.

Worst Movie Accents

10) Sean Connery in "The Untouchables" - A tough Irish cop dedicated to bringing down the mob in prohibition-era Chicago. All very well except he's quite obviously Scottish.

9) Sean Connery in "The Hunt For Red October" - A hard-nosed Russian submarine captain. Still Scottish.

8) Nicolas Cage in "Captain Corelli's Mandolin" - Sounds like one of the Inglourious Basterds (in that scene at the end). Wrong.

7) Kevin Costner in "Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves" - The only American to ever set foot in Sherwood Forest in a story which is supposed to take place before America was even born. Work that one out.

6) Keanu Reeves in "Dracula" - Who is the genius that thought this one up? Keanu as in Englishman? Hysterical.

5) Sean Connery in "Highlander" - Supposed to be a Spaniard of some kind. Still Scottish.

4) George Clooney in "Batman and Robin" - Not really an accent but merits mention just for the sheer lack of effort on Clooney's part to change his voice. At all. Him saying "Hi Freeze, I'm Batman" will be etched onto my brain for as long as I live.

3) Charlie Hunnam in "Green Street Hooligans" - When hiring someone to play a roughneck football hooligan, probably best to get someone who can do the accent first and foremost. A total atrocity from start to finish and he's a bloody British actor! Poor form sir, poor form.

2) Don Cheadle in "Ocean's Eleven" - Almost made the top spot for the sheer fact that most Americans think this is a dead-on cockney accent. Friends, it is not even close. It is, in fact, shit. Why you wouldn't have him either A) do it in his normal accent or B) have a Black British person play that part is beyond me. Redeemed only by the fact that Cheadle is one of the best actors around.

1) John Malkovich in "Rounders" - The very reason I decided to make this list. Last night I found myself re-watching Rounders (a very good, underrated, film) and sitting in open-mouthed awe at the absolute butchering taking place before my eyes. If I were Russian, I'd seriously consider legal action. Kudos to anyone in a scene with him for not p*ssing themselves laughing. The last bit where Malkovich says "geeeaaaaave heeeeaaaam heeeeeaaaas meeeeaaaaaany" is just amazing. Bravo, sire. Bravo.

JB.

Things I Love: Breaking Bad

So, last night was the third episode of the fifth series of what is now, in my humble opinion, undisputedly the best TV show I have ever seen. I thought The Sopranos couldn't be topped. It has been. By this man...

For those who don't know, Breaking Bad is the story of one Walter White, a high-school chemistry teacher (slash genius) who is diagnosed with terminal cancer. Walt subsequently has what I will understatedly call "a bit of a breakdown" and, riddled with worry about his family's financial future, goes into the business of cooking Crystal Meth with a former student of his.

Thus he begins life as a drug dealer. What follows is an intriguing tale of a completely criminally inept man trying to hide his new business venture from his suspecting wife, his son and his DEA agent brother. All straight forward enough, right?

However, what elevates this show above your standard fare is the characters. Especially Walt, whose descent into the dark side is the single most perfectly written thing I've seen. There is so much room for error. So many opportunities for contrivance. So many chances to lose an audience with a "Oh, that would NEVER happen" type scenario (see: 'Lost') but not once does this happen. In fact, the exact opposite is true. Never have I found myself shouting "oh my god!" at the screen so many times throughout the story and never, most certainly in the latest episodes have I been so nervous watching everything unravel. That's the thing...you really shouldn't, but you really do care about what happens to these people, even peripheral figures. Everything is just so well executed that you can't help but find yourself right in the deep end, swimming through the murky waters of moral ambiguity along with everyone else. Every single story is on a knife-edge at all times, no-one can get out because everyone needs each other to survive. It is masterful storytelling folks, I tell thee.

Of course all of these wonderful characters would be nothing without great actors and it's no surprise that Bryan Cranston's portrayal of Walter White has won him every award under the sun (as has the brilliant Aaron Paul, as his sidekick, Jesse). Cranston is the best actor on TV. He goes from bumbling idiot to steel-eyed psycho so effortlessly and so subtly that it is doubly terrifying. Anna Gunn is great as his put-upon wife. Paul Schrader starts off as a boisterous, alpha-male knobhead as Hank, the DEA brother-in-law but he has evolved into something so much more. Bob Odenkirk as Saul, Jonathan Banks as the dead-eyed Mike, the list goes on and on. Everyone is incredible.

Also, the music, the guest stars, and, most notably, the cinematography are absolutely top draw. It looks like nothing else on TV, feels like nothing else on TV, is like nothing else on TV and frankly, I defy anyone not to get caught up in it after a few episodes.

In fact, why are you reading this? Go and watch it. Now!

JB.

Director Files: Kevin Smith

Born in New Jersey in 1970, our Kev's career began by writing and performing sketches (very successful ones at that, by all accounts) at High School with a group of friends. Upon graduating, he found himself working in a convenience store with absolutely no prospects. Thus he got to writing. What he ended up with was the screenplay for "Clerks". However, he had no means to make it. So off he went to film school in Vancouver. He lasted six months, learning just enough to realise that he could probably make this film for himself and back to the store he went.

What followed was "Clerks" - the single biggest inspiration in mine and I'm sure a lot of other people's lives. Not just for the hilarity and ingenuity of the story, but more for the sheer balls of the man to make it. Here was a 23 year-old, who, rather than take the accepted means of success - film school, move to LA, work as a PA for years on end, make short films, do the festival circuit etc etc etc - decided instead that he was good for a credit line of around 27 grand (by maxing out multiple credit cards) and making his feature film for that. Fortune favours the bold, my friends.

The story of Clerks is a novel in itself, so I won't go into too much detail here. However, suffice to say that after an almighty struggle and many, many setbacks, the film became a resounding success, everyone made their money back and Kevin was suddenly thrust into cult stardom. His next film was "Mallrats" which is a bit gash but follows a similar path of telling seemingly mundane tales of everyday life in suburban New Jersey. However not everyone felt like I did about it and Kev's career seemed to be on the fast-track to mega-stardom.

Next came "Chasing Amy". A film which represented a massive leap forward for Kevin as a storyteller. Yes, technically it was still about New Jersey folk, but it had a much grander, more complicated, sweeping romantic edge to it. It is a brilliant film and one that should be seen by all. It's funny ('fingercuffs' and the 'black beauty' segments being personal faves), odd, complex and very poignant when all's said and done. It was another hit and, by now, among the previously unspoken for geek nation of America (and indeed the world) Kevin was a god.

Next came 1999's "Dogma" - a star-studded, unflinching look at Religion and all that, the utterly insane "Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back", the truly rubbish "Jersey Girl", "Clerks II", "Zack and Miri Make A Porno" and "Cop Out" in which he apparently had a major on-set beef with none other than Bruce Willis. Willis claiming that Kevin "dicked around and smoked pot the entire time". Brilliant.

Which leads me to my next point. Kevin Smith might not be the greatest film-maker ever, despite making a few absolute classics. He might not be to everyone's taste. Yet, the thing what I love most about him however is that could not give two shits about that fact. He has always done, and continues to do, exactly what he wants. Whether it is the foul-mouthed, deeply offensive, "Clerks" - a film which I'm sure EVERYONE around him told him not to do - or mega studio flick like "Cop Out" he has done the same from day one, and frankly what is not to love about that, folks? Very few people have such an authentic voice consistent throughout their body of work. Even fewer have the balls to really pursue it with such enthusiasm and abandon for "The Rules".

Of course now Mr. Smith is more multi-media sensation than actual filmmaker (despite his last effort "Red State" being pretty interesting). He now has several podcasts, on online film review show, national sold-out college tours, books (including the brilliantly titled "My Boring Ass Life" and "Advice from a fat, lazy slob who did good"), cartoons, comic books...the man has done it all, continues to do it all, and will continue to do it all regardless of who's listening. Something that a very large percentage of us suckers can only aspire to.

All that aside though, the main reason I love the man is because when you look beyond all the dick jokes and all the fat jokes and all the other stuff, at the centre of it all is a man, a normal bloke just making his way and really loving films, as evidenced on his latest podcast in which he blubbed like a child describing the endings of both Good Will Hunting and Monsters, Inc. Now, that I can respect.

He's also not afraid to dish the dirt on behind the scenes Hollywood and here is a video of which describes when Kevin was asked to write what would later become "Superman Returns". Classic.



Keep it going, big man.

JB.

P.S - I actually had the pleasure of meeting him once. One of the nicest people you could wish to meet. That is all.

Truth Be Told (HD)

Finally I have managed to get my first film online and in all of it's High Definition (ish) glory. For only spending 500 dollars on it, it turned out quite well I think. Enjoy.

JB.

Making Films (and Ting)

What a lovely month it has been in my little world.

Not any of my films (above)

Firstly, my first film is now completed and up on imdb.com (http://www.imdb.com/title/tt2184325/). It is also currently under consideration at several festivals so watch this space for further, hopefully good, news. As for the film itself, I could not be happier with the outcome, considering what I then knew about film-making (as in, absolutely nothing) and the budget we were working with (absolutely sod-all). With these things in mind, I consider the project a complete success.

Equally groin-stiffening is the progress of my latest film. After sitting through our first real editing session today, I am feeling incomprehensibly excited about it. Words can't seem to quite describe how it feels to see your film come together in a way that you hoped it would. In fact, so far everything has come out better than I imagined. Marvelous.

It's a weird thing actually, the process of making a film. Despite all of your meticulous planning, it is often a stab in the dark, a hope and a prayer that things turn out the way you wanted. I believe I have yet to hear it better described than by the legendary Sidney Lumet:

"Someone once asked me what making a movie was like. I said it was like making a mosaic. Each setup is like a tiny tile (a setup, the basic component of a film's production, consists of one camera position and its associated lighting). You color it, shape it, polish it as best you can. You'll do six or seven hundred of these, maybe a thousand. (There can easily be that many setups in a movie.) Then you literally paste them together and hope it's what you set out to do."

Couldn't agree more there Sidders. Fingers crossed that this one is, and there will plenty more to come.

Peace and love,

Juan.

Back

After weeks of national, and indeed global, unrest - culminating in rioting, occupying of neighbourhoods and general disarray (see below pic) - I have finally caved in and written a new blog post. This madness must end.

Right, so I've been awfully busy lately. Firstly, I managed to snag my first ever national TV commercial. As seems to be the case in this industry, I ended up reading for about four different parts before finally getting the call putting me "on avail". If there is more pointless exercise than being put on avail, then I've yet to find it. In essence, you have "passed" the audition phase of the process, but haven't booked the job. In fact, apparently, the chances are that you haven't booked the job. Now I'm no expert but I think I see a way around this problem...hows about you just call when I have booked the f**king job and we'll eradicate the three days I'll spend pacing around gnawing at my fingernails. Everyone's happy.

Anyway, as luck would have it, I did in this case get the job. Muchos celebratos. As for the shoot itself, it was fantastic. Got to shoot for two entire days with a colossal crew, the size of which I never thought I'd see. All lovely, lovely people too. Day one consisted solely of us knobbing around on a golf course, vaguely aware that somewhere a camera was rolling. Marvelous fun. Day two consisted of much the same, but in a swanky Century City hotel. All in all it was a fabulous experience. The only downside being that I was dressed like an absolute pillock throughout the shoot, including a truly shite pair of glasses which were far too small for my face. However, I care about that not one bit. All part of the job isn't it. Speaking of which, we're not home and dry yet as far as getting paid goes. There is of course the chance that this thing will air, and air lots, and air for a long time and become a career boosting cash-cow for moi. By the same token, it could never air and I'll be as destitute as before. Fingers crossed for the former my friends. Fingers crossed.

The other thing keeping me busier than a fly's gag reflex is my second short film. For this one I have decided to actually hire a crew, actors and locations etc. By which I mean, we're trying to make an actual film, as opposed to me running around with a camera in one hand, boom mic in the other. Early on in the process I decided not to hire a producer. What a mistake. Because friends, I have been doing the producing side of things, as well as location scouting, as well as art direction, as well as casting, and frankly, it's a bloody lot of work. Not that I mind...I'd rather work all hours of the day doing something I love than spend 10 minutes back in 'construction management'...it's just a wee bit stressful. Still, I have now managed to assemble a crack team of talented individuals and I'm convinced this should be a good little flick. Of course the problem with these things is you never know until you've actually done it. A thought that keeps me awake, terrified to my very core, almost every night. There's already been plenty of problems along the way, however we're now locked in to shoot on the weekend of the 19th-20th November so watch this space for further updates on my gradual, some might say inevitable, meltdown.

I'm sure I've been doing more stuff but I can't think what off the top of my head. I'll give you a quick rundown. I almost adopted a kitten. I saw the Exorcist for the first time and absolutely loved it. Held some truly memorable auditions for my project. Made a prize tit of myself more times than usual. Creeped out everyone I came across on Halloween. Got my feature-length script read by the BBC. Danced with death. Saved a species. Explored my own body in new, varied and interesting ways, oh and tried chocolate sushi for the first time...it was orgasmic.

That brings us just about up to date. I suppose all that's left to say is a big sorry to all three (at official last count) of my fans for being away so long. I promise this blog will now be of upmost importance once again. Sort of.

Oh, and now that it's got all cold and dark and winter's closing in. Make yourself a cup of tea and have a watch of this. 'Twill warm the cockles of your heart...

Godspeed,

Juan.

The Transfiguration:

So, this is probably the funniest video I've seen in a while. It's also an important lesson for anyone pursuing a career in the arts, so to speak. If this bloke can successfully come back from the absolute monstrosity he was in his younger days, then surely anything is possible.



I'm off to mack in the Jacuzzi with six fly hunnies. POW!

JB