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.

Wheel Of Fortune

So, as we sit I am watching the mighty Wheel Of Fortune and just saw something too funny not to share: Round one. The first clue looked as follows...

D_GITAL  THER_O_TAT

When suddenly one contestant buzzed in and yelled "Thermometer!"

Ahhh humans, what will you come up with next?

JB.

Also...

...if this isn't one of the greatest songs ever then I'm a Nepalese Shaman:



JB

Irritants

Right, I've just been for a very long run (well, a short run, but a long walk) up a very steep canyon after a terrible night's sleep and I believe it would be safe to say that I am not in the most lucid state I've ever been in. However, I feel now is a good time to rant about some things that have been ticking me off the last few weeks. 

1) James Holmes - You sir, are exactly what is wrong with the world. I hope you get royally shafted up the backside by a man called "Tank" for the rest of your days. Shame on you. You twat. 

2) Knobheads - This may just be my unrealistically high standards for the human race, but I can't help feeling that I am almost perpetually surrounded by utterly vacuous dick-people from the planet Helmet. You see, I've had a dear friend of mine visiting from England the past three weeks (here he is pictured fighting off an imperial fighter) and, it being his first time in Los Angeles, it's like seeing it all with fresh eyes again. The results have not been pretty. Examples include the following conversational snippets:

Drunk bellened: "Hey bro, you realise you'd be speaking German if it weren't for us?"

Runyon Canyon Mother: "Wait a minute, Cassie, you're telling me that when you played on Tuesday you weren't trying to win?"

Runyon Canyon Daughter: "No Mom, I just win naturally"

Different Drunk Bellend: "You ever go to Mexico, bro? It's great. You just rent a fucking Hotel Room find a chick and take her back there to pound that shit out"  (Note: at this point, I suspected he may be a virgin)

Deadly serious handsome guy: "I don't have girl-FRIENDS. That's just something a guy like me doesn't do."

Girl who just got picked on at a comedy club: "UCB is a fucking racist institution. It just is. I ran out of there. Oh, I'll be making a complaint" (Note: She was white.)

Threatened by English man, man: "That's not his real accent, babe. Hey bro? When you master the American accent then maybe I'll work with you. Until then, bro...." 

Coffee Shop business meeting person: "What does branding mean to me? I think branding is the using our name to enter the lexicon of people's lives" (Note: my eye began twitching at this point)

Tour Guide at Sony Studios (after showing us film previews for the first 20 minutes of the tour): "Wow, 'Looper'. Looks like a pretty interesting movie, huh TJ?"

Tour Guide 2: "Sure does, Mike"

ARRRRRRGGGGGHHHHHHH!!!!  

3) The Bachelorette

Who watches this cack? More importantly, what sort of message is this sending to the would-be women of tomorrow? Be a morally bankrupt whore, claiming to be in love with not one, not two, but three blokes at the same time, subsequently shagging all three of them, and not only will we NOT give you a rightfully earned bollocking for it, we the people will infact give you fame and fortune! Terrifying. 

Also, where do they find these blokes to go on this programme? How do integrate yourself back into society after getting dumped on national television and in the post-dump interview you retort with "she came out tonight and I thought "that's my wife". You, sir, are hereby ordered to go to a remote area to re-think your entire existence. 

4) Hollywood

Few days go by where I'm not at least mildly irritated by the old industrial complex of the film industry. However, do we need to see a re-telling of Spiderman? Or indeed a prequel to The Wizard of Oz, or, for that matter, do I need to be reminded everywhere I turn that Batman is out. I swear the head of Warner Bros said to his ad campaign team "Right, I don't want anyone in this town to be able to turn 360 degrees anywhere they stand without seeing a Dark Knight Rises poster." We already know it's coming out. We're all going to see it anyway. Please, don't ram it down our gullets. Thanks.

5) Obama vs Romney

As with all western politics, once again the truth has become a distant memory. What's right for this country and by proxy the rest of the world has once again paled in significance and what we are instead left with are two grown men throwing play-doh at each other and calling one another "poo-poo heads". Well done boys, neither of you has managed to find the higher ground, you are both completely abandoning what's actually important and are once again showing everyone how political campaigns are just cheerleading contests in suits. 

I think that's all I've got....for now. 

Meows and woofs,

JB.

Dialogue of the Day

"Oh my God, she's so hot. She's so flippin' hot. She's like a curry. I want to tell her how hot she is but she'll think I'm being sexist. She's so hot she's making me sexist......bitch"

--From "Flight of the Conchords" (2007)

The "Industry": A Weird and Baffling Enigma

So, folks, I apologize (again to all two of you) for the lack of posting on this blog. This is partly down to the fact that sometimes it's hard to muster up the energy to warble on for paragraphs knowing you have no audience whatsoever - like performing Hamlet in a cave - however it is mostly because I have been biting my tongue on certain things that have displeased me lately. Being the state of the world today I am smart enough not to overtly "diss" anyone on the world-wide web. However...

Very recently I attended the LA premiere of a short film, held at a VERY prestigious agency building, by their latest signing and new "hot" director. I will admit that, even before going in, I was dubious to the quality of said film by it's title alone (which I can't mention but let's call it "Turd On Fire", for storytelling purposes). However, as I sat in the private cinema, and more people filed in - a number of them big-time producers and agents etc - I started to think to myself "Well, if all these people are supporting this film, by golly it must be good.

The film was then introduced by a number of people involved in the making of it, including the director, who seemed like a thoroughly nice chap. So I sat back and wished him all the best. The lights went down and "Turd on Fire" began.

What then followed was the single worst 25 minutes I had ever seen committed to celluloid....and I've seen "Brothers", people. I have never been so offended in all my life. Not only was this film poorly written, terribly acted and desperately lacking of any storyline, it was almost unbearably violent, not in a cool grindhouse-type way, but in the most appallingly trashy way imaginable. Shock for the sake of shock. Nothing more. It was, from start to finish, nasty, black-hearted, garbage.

And what reaction did it receive when the credits rolled? A massive, very long and very loud, round of applause. The exact words I heard behind me were "Man 1: Oh my god. Why is isn't this guy directing movies like 'John Carter'?" Man 2: "Well, that's a discussion that will be had in the building very soon, I'm sure".

I stormed out.

The reason for my utter disgust with "Turd on Fire" was several-fold. One, without giving too much away, it was set in territory in which you could say I'm familiar (like, 25 years familiar). Two, this was being touted by a (as previously mentioned) very influential and successful agency. Three, it was terrible. And Four, for the money they spent, I'm confident I personally could have delivered a film a hundred thousand times better than that....this point may be open to debate. However the reason I'm so righteously upset by this venture is because it was so obviously devoid of any kind of imagination, wit, charm, subtlety, and most glaringly, heart. It was the cinematic equivalent of being battered about the skull with a blunt force by a juvenile offender for the entire time watching it. Horrible horrible horrible.

The saddest part of this whole debacle is that afterwards, this bloke literally had scores of people offering congratulations, no doubt anointing him as 'the next big thing' or whatever the fuck it is they talk about. I can't say I know, I didn't hang around long enough to find out.

It thus makes me wonder. You see, the one thing this film had going for it was that a pretty successful director (again, can't name him, so let's refer to him, or her, as Lumpysack McMoistgroin) Executive Producing it. How this happened, I do not know. However, by association with Lumpysack, who is a proven money-maker for studios, this film, and of course the writer/director of it, gets a massive leg-up. Indeed such was the dynamic in the air last night that I honestly believe, after the introductions, the previously established connection to Lumpysack, and the surrounding 'hype' etc., that the actual content of the film was, at this point, completely irrelevant. We could have sat and watched twenty minutes of a woman vomiting in a bucket, and the response would have been the same. That crowd of industry bigwigs were primed and ready to be amazed, and amazed they were, despite what actually passed their eyes.

This was a glimpse into the soul of Hollywood I had yet to see before and it left me momentarily reeling. What chance have I got against the black hearted demon I had just been thrust before? Is it possibly true, that all Hollywood wants is some douche who can film people swearing and stabbing each other and will play ball when asked? Is talent a factor at all? Is it really all just dumb luck and nepotism? I will admit, for a moment, all hope was lost.

However, after the red mist faded I was left with a kind of bizarre, if potentially misguided, optimism about the whole thing. It seems to me that the industry is obviously crying out for authentic voices. Genuine talents. Anyone that can do anything! Indeed it must be a sorry state of affairs if this turgid piece of loaf is the new big thing. Therefore I can safely come to only one conclusion, that conclusion being that there is indeed hope for us all. Right?

.........right?

.........hello?

.........anyone?

..........helloooo?

..........

JB.

Dialogue of the Day

"One morning, over at Elizabeth's beach house, she asked me if I'd rather go water-skiing or lay out. And I realised that not only did I not want to answer THAT question, but I never wanted to answer another water-sports question, or see any of these people again for the rest of my life."

From "Bottle Rocket" (dir. Wes Anderson, 1996)

More Master

So, last night I stumbled upon the new trailer for my most highly anticipated film of 2012, Paul Thomas Anderson's "The Master". The first one got me leaping and spinning like a cat to a yarn ball just out of reach. However, it basically just focused on a deranged-looking Joaquin Phoenix. This latest one features the mighty Philip Seymour Hoffman as Lancaster Dodd a "world war II veteran who starts his own religion in 1950's America". Sound familiar? If you're at all familiar with Scientology, then it should.

Because yes folks, despite all the denials coming from all associated with the film, it is clearly at least loosely based on that kooky bunch. As evidenced here by Hoffman declaring himself "a writer, a doctor, a nuclear physicist, a theoretical philosopher etc". Again, anyone familiar with the works of L. Ron Hubbard knows the parallels. Simply put, this film just gets weirder with every new bit of footage released and I, for one, could not be more intrigued...

Also, on the movie front, I had the pleasure of seeing not one but two of the best films I've seen in a while. The first was the George Clooney starring "The Descendants". Now, this film has certainly had it's detractors (my missus being one, declaring it..."shit") despite all of the award season acclaim,  so I went into it not expecting much. I thought it was amazing. Yes, it's a bit ponderous, yes they could have easily cut 15 minutes out and not missed a thing but it was by FAR my favourite Clooney performance and the film as a whole made me laugh, cry and contemplate my existence for several hours afterwards. Always a good thing.

Then I went and saw Wes Anderson's (no relation to Paul Thomas) new flick "Moonrise Kingdom". I generally like Wes Anderson films, but they always get bogged down in 'quirkiness' for me to consider any of them a favourite. Apart from "Bottle Rocket", which is the bollocks. "Moonrise Kingdom", on the other hand, was a pleasant surprise. It certainly had plenty of quirk, but the story (about two 12-year olds falling in love and running away) was a wonderful depiction of what it's like to be stupidly in love. Plus the cast was first-rate. Ed Norton playing a scout master? Brilliant. Also, Bill Murray was fecking hilarious. More so than usual in fact, which is quite a feat for him. What an absolute legend that man is. However, special mention must go to the two leads who were both brilliant, this being despite the fact that they were 12, and despite the fact I usually hate child actors (apart from the Culkin, obviously....and The Goonies....and that kid from There Will Be Blood...actually the only ones I hate are the twins from Harry Potter. So I take that back)

Hurrah!

JB.

One Season to Rule Them All

Greetings Earthlings,

Once again this blog seems to have fallen down the to the very bottom of my importance ladder. I do have an excuse this time, I have been busy with finishing up the old film business, as in - getting it finished, doing all the promotional malarkey and getting ready for a festival run (all going well of course). Plus the Euro's have been on.

New film poster:  mildly offensive.

So far most of my time and effort has been on the promotional side of things, which in all honesty I am completely at pain to do. It's just not in my nature to go "hey guys, look at my fecking amazing film", however, all careers are filled with at least some unpleasant work and, as unpleasant work goes, this really isn't that bad. For the record, bagging up plates in a darkened room for 7 hours a day, is. Or indeed selling bowling promotions door to door. I know, I did both. However, I now have promotional flyers, business cards, a facebook page and I've painted the side of my flat with a mural of myself saying "Are you missing out on the wonder that is John Byford?" so I'm pretty well sorted on the 'whoring myself out' side of things.

All jokes aside, I'm sure all of this effort will pay off. Indeed it will have it's first chance this coming weekend where I will be jetting off to the Palm Springs Film Festival. My film is in the market there, entitling me (and guest) a free pass to the festival and cheap hotel rooms galore. Marvelous. It should be interesting, despite being 110 degrees every day, and at the very least it'll be good to spend some time among like-minded dreamers (see: mentalists). At the very most? Who knows. Apparently this 'market' I'm in is a hotbed of industry types looking for new talent. I'm certainly new so half of their requirement is met already. Hurrah.

Also, it will give me great pleasure to be handing out flyers with the word "Twat" emblazoned across it. It's the little things in life, eh?

My final hope for this weekend is that I meet some people who will help get my feature off the ground. I've been pursuing this venture in earnest of late, making small but significant dents in the pre-production process and it's starting to look like an actual possibility, which frankly excites me beyond belief. A trip back to England will hopefully be needed soon. Fingers crossed.

I should probably also mention that I received an email from another film festival head personally saying that they "loved" my short and look forward to meeting me. I wanted to scream "does that mean I'm in then you vague bastard?!" but luckily thought better of it. Again, at the very least, it's all very flattering. It's weird though, while people are finally beginning to see the film and the supposed 'payoff' stage for all the hard work is close by, in my mind, I am completely over it. Not in a negative way. It's just that when you work on something for so long, when it's 'finished' your mind immediately moves on to the next project. I suppose because now you know twice as much as before and you're ready to make a film twice as good. That and the fact that I've probably watched a 14-minute film about 900 times. Regardless, a strange but very pleasant phenomenon.

Peace and Love,

JB.

Classic Albums: Astral Weeks

Now, obviously I'm not the first person to sing the praises of this record. Pick up just about any 'Top Albums of All Time' list and you'll be certain to see this one riding pretty high. However, such it the absolute breathtaking beauty of this album, I shall anoint it nonetheless.

Van Morrison, an enigma at the best of times, was at the beginning of his musical career. He had just penned the Essex-wedding staple, "Brown Eyed Girl", and should, by rights, have been a star. However, as the music industry sometimes has a habit of doing, he was instead handcuffed to a Draconian contract and absolutely flat broke. Threatened with deportation back to his native Belfast, he ended up marrying his girlfriend at the time and scratching a living playing grubby little dive bars around New York and Boston. Until, one day, he came in contact with a producer from Warner Bros. Records (at the time known for being artist friendly, as opposed to money-at-all-costs friendly) who was moved to tears upon hearing the title track and declared "I didn't know what it was, I just knew I wanted to be a part of that sound". Thus they agreed to make an album.

Holed up in a New York recording studio, they rounded up a handful of accomplished musicians and recorded the whole album in two days. Yep, two days. An achievement in itself, but what makes this even more interesting is that Van didn't tell the musicians a thing about what they were doing. Their only instruction being "just do what you feel". So Van played the guitar and sang, the others kept up. The end result is astonishing.

What follows is one of the most evocative, passionate, soulful 45 minutes you'll ever hear. There is not a chorus in sight, there is often the ear-piercing Irish wail that he has been unable to match since, there are tales of heartbreak, death, happiness, love and all else in between. The entire thing just pours out of this 23-year old kid (when I was 23 I barely knew how to tie my shoelaces!) and you can't help but get dragged along for the ride. From the opening title track to the mournful "Slim Slow Slider" this album  gets you on a level that's not really even musical after a while. You just have to forget the world you know exists for a bit and feel the man sing. For that reason alone, this ranks as easily one of my favorite records of all time. So, if you so desire, give it a listen. I guarantee that everything you listen too after will seem shiny, plastic and marginally shite in comparison.


Van Morrison - Sweet Thing


Peace and Love,

JB.