Tenspeed & Brownshoe: May 2006

Tuesday, May 30, 2006

The Invader has Become the Invaded.

So, when I am not writing or wishing I was writing, or out at the bar or wishing I was out at the bar, I work in production. As the song says, nice work if you can get it. I am doing locations on a film right now, came on board late AGAIN, cleaning up someone elses mess AGAIN. I am the A Team of Locations.
Heres the tech scout: "Can locations knock that building down across the street because we really wanted to put the camera THERE."

So one of the locations no one can find is a building with a certain stairwell and hallways that sound a lot like MY Building. Me and my big mouth, I mention that very thing.

So we shot in my building. Guess where holding is? My apartment which is the size of a minivan with the seats ripped out.

I have shot in many total strangers homes and businesses all over the city and beyond but I never realized how fucking intrusive and thoughtless a film crew truly is.

6:30 am some PA rings my buzzer, he didnt get the call sheet that the time had been pushed back. I suggest a diner.

730 am they start filing in. Same PA wants to know where he can plug in all the walkie batteries. Some guy walks in to my apartment talking on his cell phone, doesn't even look at me, keeps talking, puts his bag down on the chair. More people on phones hanging out in my house. Drinking coffee. The second AD asks where she can hook up a printer.
Someone needs a hot brick.
Make up has a full length mirror in my sink, a huge make up bag spread out across the stove.
One of the guys on the phone has a lap top open on my bed now.
Art department wants to know where theres a hardware store.
More people more bags,
Wardrobe hangs clothes all over every door and knob. There are shoes lined up on my desk. Second AD wants to unplug MY printer.
Someones in the bathroom.
I cant go in my living room, some chick I've never met is changing in there.
That's kinda hot though.
Wardrobe chick #2 is sitting on my floor hemming something and 630 am PA needs to plug in a coffee machine.
Actress from before now laying no my bed reading aloud the titles on my bookshelf.
Someone I have never met asks me who lives here.
Another actress asks me how long I am going to be on my computer.
An actor in my living room has actually lost the remote to my television.
A PA is putting a bunch of waters in my frige.
Still someone in the bathroom.
I go out for a while.

Its later now, much later.
Things have gone way over. I go out to dinner, have drinks with some friends. My neighbors want to know how fucking long they are going tonight.
I say so do I.
1:30 am they wrap. There is some cold pizza down stairs, the left overs from "second meal."
It's not bad.
Most everything is finally out and I go up to the apartment.
People are sitting calmly around, drinking beers talking about the days shoot. No one seems to notice me, or for that matter offer me a beer.
I tell them good night. They look around confused for a minute then begin to realize, I think.
Still no beer offer but they at last leave.
It smells kinda funny, but I go to sleep.

I am Brownshoe if I am lying may the lord SMITE me.

Wednesday, May 24, 2006


Is this about the money?
Of course. It's always about the money. Anyone who says it's about the principle obviously hasn't been offered enough money.

Does this make me look fat?
Yes. In fact, your fat makes you look fat. Chances are you'd look fat in anything. Except maybe, the ocean.

Is this going to hurt? (Physically)
You're about to be pricked by a long hard metal object that has no business being inside of your body, so yeah, I'd say it's gonna hurt.

Is this going to hurt? (Sexually)
You're about to pricked by a long hard metal object that has no business being inside of your body, so yeah, I'd say it's gonna hurt.


Just as long as you don't scream and let it happen.

Is there someone else?
There's always someone else. Always. By the time you ask that question, "someone else" has already seen your boyfriend/girlfriend naked.

Are you fucking stupid or what?
This is one is particularly funny because the person you're asking has usually just done something that only a fucking stupid person would do. Like fall asleep behind the wheel of the getaway car or buy a new mink coat for your wife after a huge heist even though you've already been told to lay low and not buy anything big because there's so much heat on us already.

How are you?
Not only do you really not care but if someone actually begins to answer that question thoughtfully, you'll just drift off and think about things like what in the world is Star Jones gonna do now that everyone in America officially hates her guts. Quick Aside: I think it's terribly ironic that the View is replacing a stupid, hateful bitch who used to be fat with a stupid, hateful bitch who used to be skinny. And they're both married to someone who's gay.

**UPDATE: One of the commenters asked me some more questions and I feel like they should be addressed in the front end of this post. You can read the exchange in the comment section.

Was it something I said?
No. I kicked you in the balls for a completely different reason.

Does this taste/smell funny to you?
Always a weird question. I mean, milk tastes like milk the other 364 days of the year so when it tastes like a baby's diaper one day, it's probably gone bad.

Do you want fries with that?
If you're even eating in a place that would ask you that question, chances are you want fries with that.

Is it me? Is there something wrong with me?
Hmmm. Well, I don't know anyone else that cries when they masturbate so you might want to go talk to someone. Oh, and you own a Blackberry.


Monday, May 22, 2006

The Most Stupidest List.

So, I'm not trying to be all like, "What's up with these Top 100 lists" but what is UP with all these Top 100 lists?! For the second year in a row Eva Longoria was voted the Hottest Woman Alive in Maxim Magazine. I don't know who they're polling but I didn't believe it the first year and I damn sure don't believe it this year. If the poll was "Hottest Woman To Your Left" then she would probably win. Just as long as there's no one else to my left.

That's why I hate these damn lists. Wasn't Julia Roberts voted The Most Beautiful Person in People Magazine last year? So what's the prerequisite for these lists? Huge maws? A flat chest? I don't get it. Judging by the mass hysteria machine that we use to make ordinary people into huge celebrities, I'm guessing Charlize Theron will top the list again next year. So then we can call those lists by their real name:

"Women Who Look Like Leonardo Di Caprio In Long Wigs"


Monday, May 15, 2006

Went to see a double feature at the B NOIR festival at the Film Forum this weekend. It's going on through July.
Different double feature everyday, and I think okay, this is why I live in New York.
But more than that, from a writing and film making point of view, make that from a STORY TELLING point of view these films are rich and fascinating historical documents.
Meant to be shown with the the big A list features with bigger stars and bigger directors, they only even run an hour fifteen each.
It is the stuff of dime novels of the day, and pulp magazines and comic books.
And it hit me that this is story telling for story tellings sake. The audience was gasping and laughing and so present with every moment like I don't think I have ever experienced in a theatre. We are in the dark saying, Tell me a good one. Howzit end? Who dunnit?
We are watching a film written by someone who never saw Star Wars. Directed by someone who hasn't seen the Godfather.
The simple innocence of the writing is so at odds with the sudden violence at times, it evokes awkward laughter from an audience here fifty years in the future.
In The Window, a little boy witnesses a murder and no one believes him. But the murderers- a husband and wife team, I'm talking the Cleavers here - get a hold of him and in the back of a cab, the woman shields the drivers view while the man punches the kid in the face til he is unconscious. It is shocking in it's off handedness.
Later they decide to kill him and the man goes,
"Time for little Tommy to have himself an accident."
But it's not tongue in cheek. It's not a joke. It is true dark smoky noir and it is delicious.
The only special effect is context.
And of course the best lighting in cinema.
It's Brownshoe, Doll - who were you expecting?

Wednesday, May 10, 2006


Anyone who knows me knows that I'm an Atheist. That doesn't mean that I'm unsure about the existence of God. It means that I don't believe in God at all.

No, I don't believe in the Adam & Eve story with the Pixar animated snake.

No, I don't believe that people used to live to be 1,000 years old.

And No, I don't believe that a little girl got pregnant by way of the Immaculate Conception.

But as much as I don't believe in all those stories, it's still just my belief. I can argue all day about the reality of the world but at the end of the day, nothing can be proven in its entirety until someone invents a time machine and gets a first-hand report.

And so conversely, and OBVIOUSLY, religion is just a set of beliefs. Silly beliefs but beliefs nonetheless.

That being said I've been reading all of the fervor regarding The Da Vinci Code and I've been steadily rolling my eyes until I read about Singapore's Board of Film Censors banning the film for people under the age of 16. Not because of sexual or violent content, however.


Here's their explanation:

"Only a mature audience will be able to discern and differentiate between fact and fiction"


Madness is always scariest when it is practiced by those who lead. With all the insanity going around this film I'm still not sure why no one has brought up the most important thing:

The Da Vinci Code is a work of fiction. It's not meant to be taken as fact. When you go to purchase the book, you'll find it in the fiction section. Or the .50 cent bin--seriously, that's where I got my copy. The Da Vinci Code is an entertaining work of fiction kind of like, oh, I don't know...the Bible (Anyone ever read the story of Noah's Ark? ). I mean, people weren't clamoring to ban Forrest Gump because they thought he really mooned Lyndon Johnson or busted the criminals at the Watergate Hotel. It's just a movie. Period.

Censorship is one of the most destructive forces in nature; that and any television show on NBC. Censorship only exists for one reason: To destroy a point of view. That's it. And that's what the Catholic Church wants to do.

So everybody, go see The DaVinci Code and enjoy it for what it is:

The movie where Tom Hanks has the stupidest hair ever.


Monday, May 01, 2006

There is a wonderful moment I have been savoring recently.
You get an idea for a screenplay, and for once, you get the whole idea and you can see it through to the end.
You spend the time, and you outline and write and rewrite and tweak.
Then you type the words THE END or FADE OUT if that is your jam-
Then for a little while, you have made something.
This script, the movie in your head- the movie you wrote because no one else had is yours and yours alone.
A first draft.
Black words on clean white paper.
Soon, opinions about the script will influence it, thoughts and suggestions will infiltrate the script and forever change your perspective about it.
Soon, the lines will be words in actors mouths, changed, cut, forgotten.
This is of course inevitable, it's purpose.
A Thanksgiving feast laid out on the table before it is devoured and someone says, inevitably,
"It almost looks to good to eat."
So take a moment with that stack of pages on your desk that just came out of the printer and know that you made something today.

I did not ask to be Brownshoe.