I think ambitious women ultimately live more lonely and difficult lives then ambitious men. I think about the countless tales about exceptional men today and in history, many who were married and had children, and were supported by these women who tolerated (as much as we think) their partners traveling, spending countless hours in labs, touring with their works, being involved in politics, etc. Yet, what about the supportive partners of equally ambitious women? Men (or women) who were content to be "in the background," supportive, and understanding of these women's strange callings to very different lines of work? It seems like for a woman to truly go after whatever is her calling in a very serious manner requires work hours and struggles that male partners are less willing to deal with than female partners are willing to deal with. Culturally, it's a bit ingrained in us, of course. I can only think about Mad Men, and that not-so-distant gender/power scenario. Housewife stays home, and the man goes out into the workforce to succeed and bring home the cash. Housewife can take some horse riding classes but other than that, her duty is to support the husband and attend to the children.
I'm certainly not saying anything that is revealing or ground breaking, but as I've spent some time today reviewing my own relationship history, I am reminded that if I were a male, with the same amount of ambition and determination, and work ethic, I don't think I would have gone through the same relationship scenarios. There is nothing I can do about it, except just stop making films. It takes me an average of 4-5 years to get one film out, so slowing down my pace to become a "better woman" only will prolong this timeline. This 4-5 year timeline is the reality primarily because I have to work other jobs to make a living, and I do most of the labor intensive tasks required of the many stages of making a film (producing, directing, writing, editing, color correcting, animating). I've sacrificed plenty to be doing what I do, and expect to never marry nor have children. (Not that I really want either, so it's hard for me to spout this off as a sacrifice.) But I feel that while most people today are fine with women working, and they say verbally that it's great that ladies are out there being leaders, working their way up into corporate leadership positions, etc. personally, they don't want to be married or in relationships with these types of women. Deep down inside, everyone just wants a nice girl who comes homes regularly and has her weekends free for house improvements, sex, and having dinner parties with friends.
Friday, January 24, 2014
Wednesday, October 2, 2013
Prude Americans: Nudity in Films
I watched two European films with main characters who had body types way beyond your normal Hollywood model/action star requirements. "The Hairdresser" and "4some" were refreshing in their treatment of nudity, and a sad reminder of how far behind we are in this country in regards to being more accepting of seeing other body types in our media. I have heard some actors I know in this community talk about how much they expect to be paid to be seen nude, especially in sex scenes, and how picky they are with the projects if there is nudity involved, and concerned they are about the result of working nude in film will have on their careers. I find this paranoia just really unwarranted. Why is it a problem to be naked in a film? Why are Americans such prudes about this? Of course, we have plenty of smaller "indie" films that have nudity and odd body types, but I see very few handling it the way it has been handled in films like "Klown," and the two I mention above. And most often, odd body types in American films are there in jest, as a comedic relief rather than being the reality of the main characters. Serious film treatments where nudity is required usually involve seeing the bodies of top model-types. Maybe it's time for a more blunt and realistic use of nudity in films, and not to poke fun at people that aren't body builders or Victoria Secret types.
Being near picture lock for "What's the Use?" has been an interesting trip. I'm ready for it to be over as it has been my only real focus. As is usually the case with my projects, I've had to pick up some of the workload and so have been focusing a lot of the time on animation. All is well, as it was a time for an After Effects refresher. But it reminds me again of the need to simplify the process so I can truly be a director and delegate and manage more of the vision, rather than handle the work all the time myself. It is fine to do this, as the director should always understand the processes involved, but if she or he is the one doing the majority of the work, then how are they accessing the talents of others to serve the larger vision of the film itself? A director should try to keep as fresh a vision as possible of their work, but the more time they spend key framing, or creating assets in Illustrator, or editing too much of the work, then what sort of objectivity remains? Once it is gone, you are at the hands of the hundreds of mismatched opinions on the work once it's ready for review, and unclear of where your true voice has gone for it. You cannot make a work try to please every person that sees it. It is impossible. You can only know what works for you and what is either strengthening or weakening your vision. My learned lesson: simplify, so that I can keep my idea for the work fresh and exciting for myself.
Let me leave you with some work of a great photographer I saw recently here at the Harry Ransom Center. The Magnum Photos collection. These are just a few from the work of photographer Jim Goldberg. The subjects of these photos wrote on the photo they saw of themselves. I'll let his work speak for itself otherwise. But I encourage a deeper look.
Being near picture lock for "What's the Use?" has been an interesting trip. I'm ready for it to be over as it has been my only real focus. As is usually the case with my projects, I've had to pick up some of the workload and so have been focusing a lot of the time on animation. All is well, as it was a time for an After Effects refresher. But it reminds me again of the need to simplify the process so I can truly be a director and delegate and manage more of the vision, rather than handle the work all the time myself. It is fine to do this, as the director should always understand the processes involved, but if she or he is the one doing the majority of the work, then how are they accessing the talents of others to serve the larger vision of the film itself? A director should try to keep as fresh a vision as possible of their work, but the more time they spend key framing, or creating assets in Illustrator, or editing too much of the work, then what sort of objectivity remains? Once it is gone, you are at the hands of the hundreds of mismatched opinions on the work once it's ready for review, and unclear of where your true voice has gone for it. You cannot make a work try to please every person that sees it. It is impossible. You can only know what works for you and what is either strengthening or weakening your vision. My learned lesson: simplify, so that I can keep my idea for the work fresh and exciting for myself.
Let me leave you with some work of a great photographer I saw recently here at the Harry Ransom Center. The Magnum Photos collection. These are just a few from the work of photographer Jim Goldberg. The subjects of these photos wrote on the photo they saw of themselves. I'll let his work speak for itself otherwise. But I encourage a deeper look.
Wednesday, September 11, 2013
Meet Awesome Lady Elizabeth Gilbert, and Why Labeling Ourselves Might Be a Bad Idea
This last month has been a series of strange creative ups and downs, being hard on my own vision, doubting what I've created, questioning why I even bother, followed by excitement for new works that have been sitting on my backplate, picking up my Copic markers again and drawing in the mornings. Followed by the nagging inner critic: "why do you bother drawing, you'll never be a visual artist, so why waste time?" (Yeah, spitting back: "Well, it's fun, damnit" doesn't work.)
These thoughts which have been with me for certain periods of my adult life (developing more so in my 30s, oddly enough), have caused me to think a lot about the creative process as we've been trudging along the final edits for What's the Use?, forcing me to question why I go through this laborious process of refining a film that I've been working on since the summer of 2011. Why do any of us do this when the chances of our films going down our intended paths for them are extremely slim? Why do we artists spend so much time, money, blood, tears, sweat, and other bodily fluids, on works that rarely do what we want them to do for us? I cannot answer that question but only say that, well, hope prolongs misery, a theme that was in my first feature.
Editing, which is usually my favorite part of the filmmaking process, and where I think the story really is made, has been taut and tense, and I find myself sometimes stepping away from the computer after only a few minutes of work to do some menial task, like, the dishes in the sink. I do this so I don't have to made decisions, and face the tension that even after all these weeks of crazy pick up scenes this summer, they may not make the film any better. (I don't truly believe this, and have seen enough to know this is not the case, but this tension has existed.)
These random bursts of breaking up my editing to go clean up something has caused me to think about how we define ourselves. Meaning, I spend so much of my waking day making films, and probably during my sleeping hours too, in my subconscious brain repairing and analyzing everything that has happened that day. Yet, I don't call myself and editor, or a filmmaker even, or a cinematographer, a producer, or any other other hats I wear pursuing this masochistic passion. If someone asks, "What do you do?" the expected reply is always what I do to pay bills, which is NOT being an editor, or filmmaker, or any of other other things I mentioned above. I find this strange that when we talk to strangers, we are expected to mention our job as our central identity, not our passions. But arguably, I would say most of us don't really identify our jobs with who we are in our cores. It's sad that even if I did mention I am a filmmaker or writer or whatever else I like to do, it is assumed I make a living at it. Our identities are inherently tied up with income. How American.
I think this hurts our creativity to actually so deeply imbed our identities with what we do for a living. I have been wondering by even saying I am even a filmmaker, I am forcing myself to think/act/create like what my cultural perceptions of a filmmaker are. Meaning, if I did not identify myself as ANYTHING, would I feel more free to create?
So, curious to hear others talk about the process of creativity and identity, I came along this great TED talk by author Elizabeth Gilbert. If you are a creative type (and I think we all are, some just access it differently than others), please watch this. It truly moved me and has given me renewed energy for paying attention to the little creative energies that I find living around me.
http://www.ted.com/talks/elizabeth_gilbert_on_genius.html
These thoughts which have been with me for certain periods of my adult life (developing more so in my 30s, oddly enough), have caused me to think a lot about the creative process as we've been trudging along the final edits for What's the Use?, forcing me to question why I go through this laborious process of refining a film that I've been working on since the summer of 2011. Why do any of us do this when the chances of our films going down our intended paths for them are extremely slim? Why do we artists spend so much time, money, blood, tears, sweat, and other bodily fluids, on works that rarely do what we want them to do for us? I cannot answer that question but only say that, well, hope prolongs misery, a theme that was in my first feature.
Editing, which is usually my favorite part of the filmmaking process, and where I think the story really is made, has been taut and tense, and I find myself sometimes stepping away from the computer after only a few minutes of work to do some menial task, like, the dishes in the sink. I do this so I don't have to made decisions, and face the tension that even after all these weeks of crazy pick up scenes this summer, they may not make the film any better. (I don't truly believe this, and have seen enough to know this is not the case, but this tension has existed.)
These random bursts of breaking up my editing to go clean up something has caused me to think about how we define ourselves. Meaning, I spend so much of my waking day making films, and probably during my sleeping hours too, in my subconscious brain repairing and analyzing everything that has happened that day. Yet, I don't call myself and editor, or a filmmaker even, or a cinematographer, a producer, or any other other hats I wear pursuing this masochistic passion. If someone asks, "What do you do?" the expected reply is always what I do to pay bills, which is NOT being an editor, or filmmaker, or any of other other things I mentioned above. I find this strange that when we talk to strangers, we are expected to mention our job as our central identity, not our passions. But arguably, I would say most of us don't really identify our jobs with who we are in our cores. It's sad that even if I did mention I am a filmmaker or writer or whatever else I like to do, it is assumed I make a living at it. Our identities are inherently tied up with income. How American.
I think this hurts our creativity to actually so deeply imbed our identities with what we do for a living. I have been wondering by even saying I am even a filmmaker, I am forcing myself to think/act/create like what my cultural perceptions of a filmmaker are. Meaning, if I did not identify myself as ANYTHING, would I feel more free to create?
So, curious to hear others talk about the process of creativity and identity, I came along this great TED talk by author Elizabeth Gilbert. If you are a creative type (and I think we all are, some just access it differently than others), please watch this. It truly moved me and has given me renewed energy for paying attention to the little creative energies that I find living around me.
http://www.ted.com/talks/elizabeth_gilbert_on_genius.html
Thursday, August 8, 2013
Friday, July 12, 2013
Back from Shooting in Las Vegas, and Some Thoughts on "Film Community"
Now that we have returned from Las Vegas and have put our equipment away, (temporarily), I've gone ahead and posted some stills here on our FB page (I'll post a few here too). The Black Magic Cinema Camera performed really well in the heat (107-115 degrees), and attracted quite a few comments, even with a pared down rig. We nicknamed the camera "The Whore" since it got a lot of curious questions and hungry looks: "what kinda camera is that?" "Is that the BMCC?" It's like having a sexy pedigree dog at the hike and bike trail. (Sorry guys. Can't say it's a chick magnet, since mostly guys asked us about the camera.) No one asked what we were shooting, they wanted to know more about the camera! It did not matter where we were shooting. People would come out of their offices to ask us about the BMCC.
With a crew of two, we shot the ending scenes for "What's the Use?" where Sara leaves Austin and heads to Las Vegas on a whim. We are fortunate to have a supportive group in Vegas (Showgirls Across America, Oogoog, The Cockroach Theater), and a public there that doesn't seem to care much about a camera in their space (obviously more interested in the camera than us). Sometimes, this is why I prefer to live/film in smaller communities. It's just easier to find the support to get your projects off the ground than it is in bigger communities.
I'm sad to say, but I feel Austin has been growing too quickly for its own britches, and with an expanding waist line (sprawl) and inflating rent prices (and no salary changes to compensate for this), I have a hard time justifying keeping BPFW here any longer. I take the "Top Rated City for Filmmakers" rating by Movie Maker Magazine with a grain, no...a large lump, of salt, but I wonder if Austin will be number one city again next year for filmmakers. Not that it matters. I've often wondered where this so-called film community really is here in Austin, or in any community. Filmmakers are a self-absorbed lot and care only for their own projects. It's the only way to get them done, unfortunately. I sense that as much as filmmakers in Austin and similar-sized film cities might like to brag about "community," I can't help but think there is a sense of the Cut-Throat, and while they might seem supportive, secretly we are all jealous of eachother's progress. But all arts deal with this. It's just seems to be part of human nature.
So yes, I've put my film "nose" in the air to sniff out other places to possibly move shop. Let's see what opportunities may arise.
We have quite a bit more shooting ahead of us this month, in yet more heat, and I am determined to someday shoot something in cold weather. It's not happened, and I am hoping it will!
With a crew of two, we shot the ending scenes for "What's the Use?" where Sara leaves Austin and heads to Las Vegas on a whim. We are fortunate to have a supportive group in Vegas (Showgirls Across America, Oogoog, The Cockroach Theater), and a public there that doesn't seem to care much about a camera in their space (obviously more interested in the camera than us). Sometimes, this is why I prefer to live/film in smaller communities. It's just easier to find the support to get your projects off the ground than it is in bigger communities.
I'm sad to say, but I feel Austin has been growing too quickly for its own britches, and with an expanding waist line (sprawl) and inflating rent prices (and no salary changes to compensate for this), I have a hard time justifying keeping BPFW here any longer. I take the "Top Rated City for Filmmakers" rating by Movie Maker Magazine with a grain, no...a large lump, of salt, but I wonder if Austin will be number one city again next year for filmmakers. Not that it matters. I've often wondered where this so-called film community really is here in Austin, or in any community. Filmmakers are a self-absorbed lot and care only for their own projects. It's the only way to get them done, unfortunately. I sense that as much as filmmakers in Austin and similar-sized film cities might like to brag about "community," I can't help but think there is a sense of the Cut-Throat, and while they might seem supportive, secretly we are all jealous of eachother's progress. But all arts deal with this. It's just seems to be part of human nature.
So yes, I've put my film "nose" in the air to sniff out other places to possibly move shop. Let's see what opportunities may arise.
We have quite a bit more shooting ahead of us this month, in yet more heat, and I am determined to someday shoot something in cold weather. It's not happened, and I am hoping it will!
Monday, June 24, 2013
Hotdiggity dog I do love this...
Synching audio to video...seeing the small nuances of the way a set light moves over and through the props and around actors we have brought together for a short amount of time, I am reminded of how much I truly love crafting film stories. There is nothing at all like this. Magic magic magic.
Thursday, May 23, 2013
We will sell no wine before it's time...
As I end a long session of reviewing edits I've made on the second feature, "What's the Use?" I think about where I was mentally (creatively speaking) two years ago, right before we were to jump into this film somewhat blindly, on "the edge of catastophe," if I may quote Mr. Malick, and after only five weeks of script writing and preproduction. Perhaps desperate to be on set again, eager to break from the restraints of mid-to-high range budget chasing and just go "micro," I threw away all caution and shot a feature while working over full-time at two jobs. (Insane, yes, I know.)
The result was a film shot at a completely wrong frame rate, with dodgy audio, and a decent enough story. Good, but not great, as I have already described the "final" cut to Kickstarter backers. Hopeless? Of course, this feeling wafted through me and probably some of my closer colleagues on this film, from time to time, when we thought we had picture locked, but after reviews of the cut, realized this was not the final cut at all, but just the beginning. Even after having already done a feature, I am constantly surprised by this process of reaching the finish line.
I guess a lot of filmmakers go through this. But my point is not to belabor too much on these hazards of just jumping into the deep end and trying to stay afloat, but to also give some applause for so blind an approach, because, with the obvious limitations that have come from this method, I have been forced to see this story and this visual style in a way that would never ever have come to me had I shot this film in a more planned way with lots of pre-production work.
To sum it up, this film is demanding its own gestation period. Having worked on the film for a long time, put it away briefly, come back and printed out frames of scenes, (there are close to 200 frames covering my bedroom/studio walls), worked on it, put it away again, something quite interesting has happened. It is something that is teaching me about the merits of time, patience, persistence, and to appreciate master filmmakers like Kubrick and Malick who take (or took in the case of the former) time to make their films what they wanted them to be.
The natural limitations and less-than-positive visual aspects of "What's the Use?" have forced me to stretch, to rethink the story, to add elements that were never planned as in animation sequences and motion graphics. To embrace the tools of cinema and make this film into some wild visual entity that frankly, I have not seen very often in film. I am actually becoming excited again to be in this world, watching edits with some crazy sound track from Boris or Sunn O))) tunneling through my mind, or just watching cuts without the sound on. Reaching out for editing tools and techniques like Venetian Wipes and Split Screen effects that are not used much anymore in indie films, (and actually are sometimes laughed at, but who needs the opinion of snobs?). It's about embracing the unusual, not being scared to drift from the restrictions of plot and standard coverage.
Would I have been able to discover this had everything gone as planned two years ago? No. Not at all. Taking the time to sit with this little monster of a film and let it tell me what it wants, when I'm willing to listen, requires a skill most of us modern folk lack: patience. But giving art the time it needs to breathe, to move around inside our brains when we are sleeping or eating or petting the cat, is crucial. I would love to become a Rainer Werner Fassbinder in many ways, with his crazy productivity, but I am slowly realizing that that is not to be. I have my own cycles, and while I never stop working (except for a Mad Men episode, or to go to any one of my various paying jobs), I have to let my work rest and be challenged. I am not happy with average work at whatever skill level I am at when I make it. The hard part is just accepting that films for me will take longer than I ever want them to, no matter how much I plan to embrace simplicity. Sigh...if only life, with good health, lasted longer.
The result was a film shot at a completely wrong frame rate, with dodgy audio, and a decent enough story. Good, but not great, as I have already described the "final" cut to Kickstarter backers. Hopeless? Of course, this feeling wafted through me and probably some of my closer colleagues on this film, from time to time, when we thought we had picture locked, but after reviews of the cut, realized this was not the final cut at all, but just the beginning. Even after having already done a feature, I am constantly surprised by this process of reaching the finish line.
I guess a lot of filmmakers go through this. But my point is not to belabor too much on these hazards of just jumping into the deep end and trying to stay afloat, but to also give some applause for so blind an approach, because, with the obvious limitations that have come from this method, I have been forced to see this story and this visual style in a way that would never ever have come to me had I shot this film in a more planned way with lots of pre-production work.
To sum it up, this film is demanding its own gestation period. Having worked on the film for a long time, put it away briefly, come back and printed out frames of scenes, (there are close to 200 frames covering my bedroom/studio walls), worked on it, put it away again, something quite interesting has happened. It is something that is teaching me about the merits of time, patience, persistence, and to appreciate master filmmakers like Kubrick and Malick who take (or took in the case of the former) time to make their films what they wanted them to be.
The natural limitations and less-than-positive visual aspects of "What's the Use?" have forced me to stretch, to rethink the story, to add elements that were never planned as in animation sequences and motion graphics. To embrace the tools of cinema and make this film into some wild visual entity that frankly, I have not seen very often in film. I am actually becoming excited again to be in this world, watching edits with some crazy sound track from Boris or Sunn O))) tunneling through my mind, or just watching cuts without the sound on. Reaching out for editing tools and techniques like Venetian Wipes and Split Screen effects that are not used much anymore in indie films, (and actually are sometimes laughed at, but who needs the opinion of snobs?). It's about embracing the unusual, not being scared to drift from the restrictions of plot and standard coverage.
Would I have been able to discover this had everything gone as planned two years ago? No. Not at all. Taking the time to sit with this little monster of a film and let it tell me what it wants, when I'm willing to listen, requires a skill most of us modern folk lack: patience. But giving art the time it needs to breathe, to move around inside our brains when we are sleeping or eating or petting the cat, is crucial. I would love to become a Rainer Werner Fassbinder in many ways, with his crazy productivity, but I am slowly realizing that that is not to be. I have my own cycles, and while I never stop working (except for a Mad Men episode, or to go to any one of my various paying jobs), I have to let my work rest and be challenged. I am not happy with average work at whatever skill level I am at when I make it. The hard part is just accepting that films for me will take longer than I ever want them to, no matter how much I plan to embrace simplicity. Sigh...if only life, with good health, lasted longer.
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