Sunday, November 17, 2002

All I do anymore is film. Which is fun, but it really takes it out of you. I am going to sleep so much over Christmas break, and aside from writing (and hopefully finishing) my screenplay, I'm not doing anything other than reading, watching tv, and listening to music. And maybe some art or something. Christmas break is a month this year. A month. I'm so looking forward to it. A lot much.

I have all this other stuff to talk about, but since it's just 99 percent whining, I'll just say that this semester is very, very hard. I have a lot of stuff to do, and it's not easy stuff like worksheets and vocabulary. High school was good times, sniff.

It was 85 degrees outside today! That is far too hot for November! The fact that just being a wee bit closer to the sun makes that big a difference in temperature makes me shudder with fear. Gah.

Monday, November 11, 2002

Damn it all to hell. I just posted a big long entry and lost it because my internet browser is a bastard thing. Anyways...today my sound class went on a field trip to Warner Brothers up in Burbank. We toured the post-production facilities with the help of our trusty guide, the guy who runs operations or something. First, we went to their great big fancy mixing stage. There, Any Given Sunday was being mixed for television broadcast, so they had notes strewn about with the time code for when someone said a dirty word. However, everything was on pause, because even mixers have to have a lunch break. Then, we saw the Foley stages (even with specially dubbed in footsteps, Fastlane is still a sucky show), the editing bays (when the lead character in Bird of Prey lands, the sound effect is made up by the sounds of a car whooshing by, a whoosh of wind, and the sounds of a body slam on concrete), and the scoring stage (you can fit 100 musicians in it). Then, we went to the ADR room, where actors re-record dialogue. Malcolm in the Middle was paused up on the monitors, like in most of the rooms we toured. We were milling around inside when someone walked in the door...





Bryan Cranston! He came in at the same time we happened to be there to loop a few lines. We all fawned over him for a few seconds, then they moved us into the back recording room. We watched him watch the tape one time, read his line aloud once. Then he started looping it. It was uncanny how in-sync he was. He only had to do four takes, and then he turned around to us at the window and gave a huge, theatrical bow. We applauded. Then we left while he prepped his second line. He was really nice, and very professional. Apparently, most actors hate doing ADR, and sometimes even blow it off, but he came in just to loop two or three lines, and was very obliging of the gaggle of students watching him.

Afterwards, we went to the WB museum they have on the lot, which is only open to personnel and guests to the lot. They had some seriously cool stuff there, including the dress Audrey Hepburn wore in My Fair Lady when she sings "The Rain in Spain," the bloodied prison uniform Harrison Ford wears when he escapes the train crash at the beginning of The Fugitive, and several telegrams from Bette Davis to Jack Warner complaining about a lot of really petty stuff. Coolest, however, were the address book of Jack Warner on display (on one page, I saw the personal phone numbers of Cecil B. DeMille, Olivia De Havilland, Walt Disney, Bette Davis, and Salvador Dali intermingled with notations like: Dance Teacher, Barbara's), and the Harry Potter display set up. They had costumes, props, set pieces. I got to have the hat that decides what school you go to put on top of my head. Pretty neat.

I strained a muscle in my back. Badly. I'm on anti-inflammatories and I have to do this thing with heating pads and ice packs. It's nice to know what's the what, at least. Stupid back.

Friday, November 8, 2002


Well, dailies came back, and I'm not happy with them, so the whole first weekend of shooting was pretty much a waste. We're going to reshoot. I'm not really too upset about it, though, because even though we have to go through that whole thing again, I would rather do that than put something in my film I'm not happy with. Speaking of the film, I had a long sit-down talk with Ashley and we've come to some kind of agreement. Basically, she'll put forth some effort on my film, and I'll, well, do pretty much what I have been doing. So hopefully that'll last longer than five minutes.

Last night was a night of good television. Aside from Survivor, that is, which has become increasingly boring. I don't really like any of the people left all that much, and there is a far too high ratio of Southern people to non-Southern people. Clay in particular has become unintelligible. But on the whole, Thursday night TV kicked it. Friends was quite funny, and I hate to admit it, but I really liked Freddie Pajamas as the nanny. I think that high-profile guest stars on Friends break down into two categories: those who act the same way they do in film and come across as wooden and unfunny, and those who know that sitcom acting is bigger and flashier and come across as dynamic and funny. The Pajamas was the latter; especially, I think, in his interactions with Joey. Caroline and I were talking that as far as the rest of the episode went, the characters were pretty much dead on. Monica wasn't as shrill, Phoebe had a purpose, Joey was amusingly dense, Ross was neurotic about something, Rachel was, well, Rachel, not freaking out about the baby like always. And Chandler was actually funny, something that's been missing.

Will and Grace was cute too, but Gene Wilder stole the show. He was absolutely hysterical. There was a scene where Will is trying to talk to him, and Gene goes into his office and only talks to him through the window. Will puts his hand up to the window, and after a beat, Gene slides his hand down to rest where Will's is. It killed me. The whole episode was just filled with things like that. I'm glad I taped it, I'm definitely going to go back and watch those bits again.

Maya sent me a package. Books and a tape and a CD! I am filled with such love. Danke a lot, m'dear.

Monday, November 4, 2002

Yeah, I haven't updated in a while. I've been busy. I met with actors, had my first day of filming, and dealt with the insufferable evil that is Ashley. You know when you get really, really mad, and your jaw clenches and you just want to throw something, or hit something, or bite into something and you think your veins are going to pop? Yeah. The more I think about all the crap she's put me through this semester, the more angry I get. I had a brief week of "I'm just going to forget about everything and start fresh with her," but she's just...a bastard person. Gah.

My Spike action figure won't stand up straight. He came with a little cemetery base, and it's just not working. Half the time he's leaning over at this impossible angle that makes him look incredibly drunk, and other times he's leaning so far forward that he looks as though he's brooding, and that's just not right. Stupid action figure base.

Why do the writers on Angel persist on making dumb character decisions? They have this incredibly interesting story going on with Lilah and Wesley. Is it love? Is it lust? Is she just using him? Is he just using her? And the actors have great chemistry, and it's a complex story, and this week we have to watch Wesley make moon eyes at Fred again. Why? I just don't understand. It makes no sense to me, at all.

Yeah. Stupid things, not being cool.