Tenspeed & Brownshoe: June 2006

Monday, June 26, 2006

I love the movies, I swear I do.

Did this ever happen when you were young?
You're coming home after school and you can't wait for dinner and you are starving and all the way home you are dying for some good old fashioned home cookin? And you get home and your mother is making your least favorite thing in the world? Something with beets maybe.

I'm standing there in the lobby of Loews near my apartment. A respectable mulitplex on 2nd ave with nothing to do tonight and I look up at the whatever... marquee or whatever that is called, and I realize that no matter how much I lower my standards there is not one fucking thing I will suffer through just to satisfy what is, lets face it a popcorn jones. (maybe that will be my pen name if I am ever a movie critic - Popcorn Jones)

Here's what's playing at a theatre near me----

The Davinci Code... We've been over this. Fright wig.
Cars... Sorry, not ten years old and don't have one handy.
Garfield, tale of two kitties... Many possible giggle garnering games to play with the title, but in fairness I am not, I think, the target audience.
Click... Are you fucken serious?
Nacho Libre... God, Jesus, is it me? Besides, man nipples on movie poster - big no-no.
The Omen... Big 'fuck you' for remaking one of the spookiest, coolest movies I remember from growing up and then putting Julia Stiles in it.
The Lake House... Sorry, not a fat chick and don't have one handy.
Fast and the Furious: Tokyo Drift... I totally invented the pulling up on the parking break thing first of all, and while I get the fact that a film like this is a product in a package like the video game it already is, I am saddened by the shameless grab for cash by people who have the power and resources to make great films and instead charge people ten seventy five to watch recycled brainless car chase crap. But as long as they line up and pay, well fuck me then.
The Break Up... For better or worse, my best bet. But am I going to go watch The Break Up all by my self? I mean am I really gonna do that?
X MEN III... Saw it. Whatever. Fraiser was blue.

Brownshoe spending another night watching The Deadliest Catch!

Thursday, June 22, 2006

Dude, seriously...

Enough with the soccer already.

Tuesday, June 20, 2006

We Interrupt This Regularly Scheduled Blog For A SHAMELESS PLUG!

So for anyone who cares, the film that I co-directed with Larry Strong is premiering on July 16th. The trailers are finally up here. There are 2 of them and they're both pretty different.

I hope you enjoy!

P.S. Feel free to click on "Large" for the trailers. They load up pretty quickly...

Monday, June 19, 2006

Done at last with another production gig on someone elses film.
Struggling with the fact that I am tired of making other peoples films. But it beats working.
What strikes me when on set though, is what a cool small (incorporated) army a production is.
There is really very little a film crew cannot do provided of course they have permission.
They are a fully loaded team of electricians and carpenters and decorators that rolls up with its own power and lots of snacks.
We were in a duplex loft with no power in it and built a bathroom with running water and lit and shot and basically lived independently there for three days.
It's like summer camp only in hell.
Cool though if you think about it.
We can take down doors put up walls, power up enough lights to make it look like day time at three in the morning and serve a catered lunch out on the sidewalk.
By my calculations we generated one bag of trash every forty five minutes.

All month I am one step ahead of Spiderman III. Finally on Sunday I am relaxing in Mad Sq park and they are shooting on Madison Ave. Huge huge production, blocks and blocks of "four bangers"(God how I hate film lingo) and trucks and more grip stands that they are ever going to need for a car shot which is what they were doing and a craft table and honey wagons (Please already) galore.
It is awe inspiring and glamorous there is no getting around it.
And then there sitting on a bench next to me is a guy from the crew. Middle aged, big belly Teamster type. His little walkie chirping away, his cool badge around his next.
And I look at him and I think for a minute that it must be pretty cool to work on such a huge studio film, even though I am not a starfucker type and think Hollywood more than ever is synonomous with excrement - still are we not all whores to it?
And I realize that this guy could care less what the film is couldn't tell you what the scene is or even if any interesting stars are just a block away eating some kind of nut meat sandwich.
He's just a blue collar guy, probably an electrician whos' job it was to plug in some light and in a little while he will unplug it.
In the mean time he CAN tell you exactly how many minutes til meal penalty.

Brownshoe standing by to be flown in by first team PA.

Friday, June 16, 2006

I always felt like Ryan Seacrest's Star on the Hollyood Walk of Fame should have read:

RYAN SEACREST...for some reason.

So, not only is Brownshoe shooting a movie right now and I had to pick up his slack but I'm flying back to LA next week so the posts will be kinda scarce for a bit.

As I was arranging my schedule, I realized that subconsciously, I was mentally preparing myself for the trip over. Meaning, I had to switch my brain from east coast mentalities to west coast mentalities.

Sound insane?

It's really not. The differences between the two coasts are amazing. Just to give you all some perspective, here are the differences between Los Angeles and New York. This post will deal exclusively with New York. Before I get on the plane, I'll post regarding Los Angeles.


No matter what subway car you're in or which subway line you're traveling, there will always be a crazy person who's just found the seat right next to you.

It doesn't matter whether you're in front of the nicest building in the world or the shittiest slum in the world, they'll both reek of piss.

The light is green and like any other rational human being in the world you interpret that to mean it's okay to drive but a group of people will start to cross the street anyway and curse you out for not letting them walk through.

The light is red and like any other rational human being in the world you interpret that to mean it's not okay to drive but the car behind you will inexplicably honk his horn.

We're supposed to be one of the most sophisticated cities on the planet but somehow it became acceptable to pile a mountain of garbage bags in the middle of the sidewalk.

You're a decent and patient human being but if someone in front of you is walking a tad slow or dares to stop and look up at our glorious architecture, you'll entertain thoughts of rabbit punching him in the back of the head or lighting him on fire like Christopher Walken in The Prophecy.

You're on 46th and Broadway and the most talented musician you've ever seen is playing the most kick ass song ever heard right there on the street but then next door on MTV's TRL, the most overrated musician you've ever seen is playing the most retarded song you've ever heard. Nine times out of ten it's the Black Eyed Peas. Two Words: Lady Lumps.

Lindsay Lohan walks out of a Starbucks looking sweaty and disheveled. And she smells of old cigarettes, cocaine, and Cristal.

The cell phones have gotten so big and prehistoric looking, everyone looks like Zack Morris from Saved by the Bell.

The biggest stars in the world come to party on Thursday, the biggest party night of the week but on Friday & Saturday, everyone that travels into the city to party is named Vince, Ann Marie, or some other goomba variation.

No matter what day of the week it is, no matter what time it is, LAW & ORDER is being filmed.

You'll be walking down the street and suddenly trip over something. After close inspection you'll discover it was the back of a goddamn suitcase being wheeled to, presumably, nowhere. These are not tourists. Tourists have those huge fucking backpacks that knock you into the smelly, rat infested hot dog stands. New Yorkers are the ones with these stupid pieces of luggage. When this started and how it started...I have no idea.


Monday, June 12, 2006

A Real American Hero.

Finally, someone said it. I think it's fair to say that Ann Coulter speaks for most Americans, especially her views on the 911 widows. I'm so glad she's around to tell it like it is. In fact, I'm so happy I think I'll write her a letter and express my gratitude, and if I may, yours as well.

Dear Annie (I gave her this little pet name--trust me, she loves it),

Thank you so much for your words the other day regarding those damn 911 Widows. I'm sure everyone around the globe feels the same way you do. Sure their husbands were brutally murdered by a coward who strangely remains free till this day. Yeah, their spouses died horribly--some were burned alive, some were literally flattened, others much much worse--but that doesn't excuse those "harpies" behavior.

Look, 911 was like soo 5 years ago. These chicks hold a grudge longer than my ex-wife. There they are asking our President to install new and efficient measures to keep the country safe. And then they want to explore why there were so many critical failures in our defense and in our reaction. Which just shows how stupid they are. I mean, what reaction? It's not like we did anything constructive like go after the guy who orchestrated the entire terrorist act.

We just let it go. Which is what they need to do.

Also, it's not like these murdered husbands just left behind grief stricken wives. Some of these guys had kids too. And you don't see those kids complaining, do you? Do you know how much money some of these kids are getting? Hundreds, baby. Hundreds of dollars. Enough money to pay for like 4 days of college. Cha-Ching! They might cry about their dads being dead and wonder if their deaths were avoidable as if there were some kind of memo floating around the White House a month earlier that stated, "Bin Laden determined to attack inside the US", but trust me...THEY WILL GET OVER IT.

When you said, "These broads are millionaires, lionized on TV and in articles about them, reveling in their status as celebrities and stalked by grief-arazzis. I've never seen people enjoying their husbands' deaths so much.'' I was like, Word Up, Sista! Preach! Look how happy these widows are. With their...you know, happy, teary faces. I bet they wished this could've happened sooner. They made out like bandits. But not just with the money. Let's really weigh this out:

The cost of 4 buildings being destroyed by terrorists: Billions.

The cost for all those dead husbands: Priceless.

Some people say that you're actually the one profiting from all these deaths. After all, 911 did kind of make you a millionaire. But you know what? Anyone who thinks that is guilty of treason. That's right, treason. As defined by real Americans like you and me:

Treason: (noun) To question or seek answers from the Government when all logic and common sense indicates that they've failed us as a Nation.


Anyway, I have to go kick some puppies and light homeless babies on fire. I just wanted to thank you again for all of your thoughts and kind words. Please, never stop fighting the good fight. You may be a grotesque assortment of skin and bones but your heart is as big as your head.

Thank you.


Another Real American


Monday, June 05, 2006


If you've ever wondered if all screenwriters get along, the answer is a resounding "No". And it's never been more true concerning fellow screenwriter, Josh Olson. Josh is the Oscar nominated screenwriter of The History of Violence. Before that he was a straight-to-video guy who directed a film entitled, Infested, starring the Yellow Power Ranger. That's quite the leap and you gotta respect that. The ironic thing is that I actually spoke to Josh when I used to be an agent and he was in the middle of casting the female lead for Infested and he was genuinely upset about not being able to hire an actress I represented (the talented Emily Merryn) because the financiers wanted a star name like Kari Wuhrer. And no, I can't pronounce her name either. What I remember from that experience was that he was a nice and humble guy. That was, I think way back in 2000.

Enter the Josh Olson of today.

For those of you that peruse the world of the scribosphere, I'm sure most of you have seen the utter carnage between Josh and I over at Craig Mazin's blog (writer of Scary Movie 3 & 4), The Artful Writer. If you have 6 hours to kill you can see how it started here and how it's escalated here.

Prepare yourself, this is gonna read rather outrageous, but these are the type of things that have been said between us:

Excerpts from The Artful Writer:

"...Who are you trying to convince? You’re arguing about concepts that have literally been expressed in bold statements. If you go back and read some of your posts, it almost seems as if you’re arguing with yourself.
And just out of curiousity, are you able to express a point of view without being so painfully obnoxious? Even your good points are destroyed with that nasty attitude.
Tone it down. --Kevin Arbouet"

Here's Josh's reply...


Nobody likes a politeness Nazi.

On top of that, nobody likes people who couch nasty attitudes in polite speech. The difference between how I write here and how some people write, is you never walk away from one of my posts wondering if you might have just been insulted.
I have enough respect for you to let you know, bitch.

Stop getting your panties in such a wad over how people express themselves and pay some attention to what they’re expressing. You’ll come off as less of a priss.

As for the statement in bold, you should take Joshua’s comments to heart. If that’s not the first time Craig’s expressed that particular sentiment here, it’s the second. Maybe the third. And I’d wager that the only other times have been when I’ve put his feet to the fire in the past to make that clear because - pay attention here, princess - it does not come through at ALL in his writings here.
What DOES come through is his irritation with writers who don’t think they need to do more than just write; with writers who think what we do is the most important aspect of filmmaking; with writers who think the big issues are more important than the small ones; with writers who think this is an art form and not a sausage factor; with writers who have the temerity to value real quality over fleeting commercial success.
I’m hardly the only working screenwriter who reads Craig’s stuff and rolls his eyes. I’m just one of the few who’s delusional enough to think that if I pound his head against a wall long enough, he’ll get it.
It’s almost cetainly a mental illness. But it sure does keep the peanut gallery entertained….--Josh Olson"

See what I mean?

Because it's gotten so out of hand and everyone else out there has been writing about it, I thought I should too since I'm smack dab in the middle of it. The posts over at The Artful Writer has sky rocketed past 400 posts and will probably reach 500 by the end of the day so you can see how insane it's gotten. There's a certain standard of decorum over at Craig's site and it would be rude of me not to try and follow them.

No such rules here.

The truth is, Josh is an asshole. That statement has nothing to do with his talent or his accolades. Most writers dream of being Oscar nominated and to achieve such a goal is an amazing feat. But that doesn't make you less of an asshole. I'm not going to recount all of the gory details but let's just say I'm not above throwing him threw a window. Personally, I don't know if he's always been an asshole, recently turned into an asshole, or maybe he's just a cyber internet asshole. I don't know.

So...I just realized that there's no point to this post. Other than to state Josh's assholeness. No moral of the story here today, folks. Sorry. It's all just juicy in fighting gossip and conjecture.