Wednesday, July 16, 2008
Here we go, my first post as a 23 year old. Not a bad number 23, although some would say it was a bad movie. (Ba Da Chh!) I’ve actually never seen The Number 23, but I should have gone to support Jim Carey. I always liked him, especially when he dabbled with more dramatic, less zany rolls. Some of my fellow league members may disagree with me here, to the point where I have a knife in my back, but I think that if Jim Carey was never in Batman Forever and decided to show his darker more dramatic side in a role, the new Joker could have been a good fit. (Ducking as Cake Man’s empty whiskey bottle flies over my head)
Anyway, this post was never supposed to be about Jim Carey really. It’s supposed to be about my goals for another year on the planet. Shortly after I turned 22 I posted that I wanted to move back to the artistic hotbed that is New York, get a job, and place in a screenplay competition. Most people tell me I did all three. It depends on what your definition of “place” is. I was envisioning top three scripts. I made top sixteen. Some days I say I accomplished all the goals, other days I don’t, but they’re old goals. Time for new ones. My Grandma always says write down your goals. I think this counts.
Goal #1- Place in a screenplay competition. By that I mean...I’ll just say better than top 16.
Goal #2- Have six screenplays polished to the point where I wouldn’t mind dropping any of them on a producer’s table. Right now I have one in such condition, and a few others that aren’t too far away.
Goal #3- Have conversations with three people I’ve never met before who are currently working in relevant corners of the entertainment industry.
There they are, my screenwriting related goals for 23. Come 24, if the world hasn’t ended yet, I’ll come back to this post and measure my progress. In any event, 23 will be a better year than 22. The other day I just realized I spent nine months of 22 with my brother’s old leather couch as my primary bed. Now I sleep on a queen size bed of my own and in my own apartment. In the end I think that might be the real progress.
The trailer for (the cinematic masterpiece) Commando does just about everything right to sum up the movie in two minutes: it offers up bite-size portions of all of the movie's most essential elements. You get gunfire and explosions, cheesy catchphrases, and tough-guy mugging from Arnie.
I think more bullets are fired in this trailer alone than in all of Saving Private Ryan.
Sequence that hurt my eyes the most: the rapid-fire cutting at 0:30 while Arnie is putting on his badass dress. Did that almost give anyone else a seizure?