» Fringe Blog – Writing on Film, Culture, and Things on the Fringe

Lavinia’s Heist Title Sequence

jelewis8 — Sat, 22 Mar 2008 00:36:40 +0000

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Grounds Zero Title Sequence

jelewis8 — Fri, 21 Mar 2008 21:30:48 +0000

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Brooks

jelewis8 — Thu, 28 Jun 2007 13:32:38 +0000

I don’t know much about photography. But I do have a roommate who is pretty big into it. He recently, he applied to Brooks, a fairly well known photography school in Santa Barbara, CA, and for the past few months has worked weekends on photo shoots for Little League sports photo sessions, or Girl Scout troop gigs, or Little Miss Sunshine competitions. I may have made up the last thing, though it would make sense given the direction I’m about to take this topic.
Joe (my roommate) informed me that he was hired without a background check. Now thankfully, Joe is not a pedophile or a predator, although he does appear to have the characteristics of a hobo or otherwise indigent person at times, especially when covered with leaves, dirt, and oil as part of a character immersion thing (in preparation to shoot a death scene in a wonderfully cheap short film, The Canal, written and directed by yours truly). That is not to say hobos and homeless folk are pederasts. They are truly not; most, if not all of them, are content to shuffle along aimlessly, collect and recycle cans and bottles, and not shower.
However, according to Joe, it wouldn’t be that difficult for a child predator with genuine photographic talent to be thrust into a life where they have full access and right to shoot kids, all in the name of these wonderful little photo sessions. It’s the perfect environment for a lurker to ensconse himself in. All the better if he is good at photography. After all, Joe didn’t get hired because he looked like a hobo. He got hired because he brushed his hair and beard, put on a clean pair of underwear and pants, and showed up with a Nikon SLR camera. Nikons are impressive, and the fact that he had an SLR and not a digital camera was quite impressive to the recruiter, who signed him without a moment’s pause or consideration.
I don’t want to give any ideas to any predators who might happen to read my blog. I’m going to encourage Joe to encourage his employer to start running background checks on their photographers. I’m just saying.

Half Glass Man

jelewis8 — Fri, 02 Mar 2007 02:35:10 +0000

No Fringecast. Sorry friends. When your life is split between working a fulltime job, writing projects that have been slathered in potential career boosting juice, keeping up with a mildly interesting blog, directing and producing a short film that has been called “the coolest Christian sex thriller short since, well, ever” (okay, so it hasn’t, but I think it would be cool if someone came along and gave it that label, since I’m positive I’d come up number one on Google for “cool Christian sex thriller short.” It’s my goal, really.)….take deep breath….and maintaining a long distance relationship that is both alternately incredible and heartbreaking–well, one just doesn’t keep a running total of everything one does without realizing that one is severely under budget and understaffed. Something’s gotta give.
So no Fringecast. For a couple of weeks. Consider this the hiatus before the podstorm. I’ve been making a few cosmetic and backend changes to the site, which I’ll continue to work on and tweak. I realized that I’ve got a wonderful archive of random articles ranging from political rants to pleadings with my toilet to serious discussions on breakfast cereal, and down the list of obscure and arcane ephemera that gives this site the kind of broad range you tend to see in killer storm systems. Which probably explains why Fringe doesn’t have a ton of traffic. I’ve been working on boosting it, slowly, by improving the code that runs the site, but it’s not an exact science. More like an indistinct glop of oatmeal.
I realized that I was supposed to write about how much I loved Day 2 of shooting, how if I were a superstar selling Day 2 Shoot as a product, I’d fully endorse it, put my face on the cereal box, and I’ll even do a radio interview with Ryan Seacrest if it’ll sell the thing. But I realized I’m really more of a “glass half empty” kind of person. When things are good, that’s like when you have just ordered a pint and it comes in all frothy and foamy, and the glass is nicely chilled, and it’s happy hour, so you get it for three bucks instead of four-fifty, and the television hasn’t been turned to the home shopping network yet by the ladies who sit and jaw and smoke Marlboro lights…good times, noodle salad. On the other hand, when things are bad, it’s like when your glass is down halfway or more, and you’re getting gloomy because you’re all by yourself and it’s a friggin’ pub, why did they put on Enrique Iglesias on the stereo and the cute server’s flirting with a guy half your weight and twice your height, with hair like a Mediterranean demi-god, whilst you’re treasuring the wisps floating around your head like cirrus clouds illuminated by the moon, and you know that the night’s only going to get lonelier because there’s nothing more lonely than drinking alone. That’s the kind of guy I am. Or at least, pretend to be on Fringe.
I’d rather talk about how the pint is almost gone, which makes me sad. But then I’m given a boost, knowing that the pint can be refilled when it’s all gone, which gives me impetus to put my best lips forward, throw the glass back, and motion to the bartender.
“‘nother plain, if you would.”
Because there’s nothing quite so golden and cheery as a full glass of Guinness. But I’d rather drink the pint, not talk about it.
Which is why I’m not going to talk about how golden and brilliant Day 2 Shoot was. Just accept it and move on.
So no Fringecast. I’m kind of bummed about it. I’ve had the Fringecast site in a state of semi-readiness for a month now, but time, as the first paragraph alluded to, has been quite scarce. I will trust these barely cohesive missives will suffice until such time as you can load up iTunes with a new batch of 402 goodness.
In the meantime, I’ve got a Guinness that needs to be relocated from the glass to my stomach. Cheers!
Update: My Google Dream has been made manifest.

Colon Cleansing

jelewis8 — Fri, 16 Feb 2007 13:40:56 +0000

The short film has a title: “The Canal,” which is everything you don’t expect from a movie with that kind of title. It’s a throwaway title, a gimme title, a title that sort of says everything and nothing at the same time. I know none of this makes sense without the script in your hands, but trust me, it’s a solid.
Speaking of solids, I recently read a brochure, pamphlet, advertisement, propaganda–what-have-you–about colonic cleansing. The famous “25 Ways To Have The Cleanest Bowels” rag by Dr. Schulze, whose picture on the back brazenly points at the camera, index finger and curled, fat, German fist out of focus, his eyes raging with the fire of righteous anger against colon-rectal disease. That’s right America. Dr. Schulze wants you to detoxify your colon NOW. Consider yourself screwed unless you start pooping forty times a day, and that’s only going to happen with his special Formula #1. An insert near the back exclaims “Never underestimate the HEALING POWER of Colon Cleansing.”
Trust me, I wouldn’t dare. With his picture, like a German Charlton Heston mixed with a Road to Wellville vibe, there’s no way I’d ever cross that man. He’s very insistent that American colons are the most abused organs on the planet. He apparently traveled around the world to observe and investigate ancient cultures who lived a simpler life by eating ants, with the sole purpose of extracting some theory about why Americans don’t go to the bathroom as often as they should. It turns out, eating ants and grass and such simple foods will cause one to…um, evacuate within thirty minutes of eating, and the result is not a hard lump, but a sludge that comes out with minimal fuss and no strain, which often leads to aneurisms or heart problems for Americans.
Dr. Schulze has taken these primitive culture eating programs and distilled them into pill form, which he calls Intestinal Formula #1 and #2. This is the gift America gives to itself–pills to simulate the grassy, savannah lifestyle of our primitive cousins, which according to him, has the effect of re-animating the zombified corpse of your colon.
Needless to say, I am not going to go on the Pill, mostly because I’m really fine with my bowels and their current schedule of movements. Dr. Schulze named several examples of the usual number of times typical Americans have a bowel movement, and I’m well above the national average. Which I am sure you wanted to know.
Talk about a way to end the week. I’m holding auditions tomorrow for the two female roles in “The Canal.” Real actresses will be there. This could be something big. More next week.

A True Maxim

jelewis8 — Tue, 13 Feb 2007 04:22:14 +0000

Target one has been destroyed. My Irish beauty, the script I spent three years on has undergone its first major overhaul, and it’s now complete. Finito. Until the next draft. I won’t have a chance to look at it again until sometime into April. Because it’s on to the next project!
Which is actually three. I enumerated them in an earlier post, so I won’t go into them all. I will say I met with the producer who is interested in the feature script I’m working on. I went over the full treatment, after which he breathed deeply, and said he thought it was really solid. I promised him the script in a month and a half.
Boy, am I brazen…
So the short film project. Came about as I was contemplating the fact that I haven’t directed anything in forever, and that Progeny was quickly approaching. Progeny is my film festival of choice; apparently I’m unable to not get accepted to it, which boosts the ego a fair bit. The other side is that I’m 4 for 4 on winning awards, so statistically, I have the minerals to keep plopping out cinematic turds, putting a fancy title sequence on them, and calling them “films.”
Then again, that’s what Hollywood’s all about, right?
I’d had a short film idea a while back that I had started writing and quickly abandoned because its hook was lame and contrived. After discussing the possibility of doing a short film with the roommate Tim, I remembered my uber-lame 5-pager and retrieved it from the lost-and-found, opened it up, and recalled why it was so lame.
The only thing that’s survived are two names. But in a quick sit-down brainstorm session with Tim, we managed to churn out a story so twisted and perverse it makes Seven look like a French Impressionistic painting of a flower-covered pond, filmed to the sounds of Claude Debussy with a soft-light filter, and a shot of horse tranquilizer administered to your face, for good measure. I’m actually still writing it, but will be done by tonight. Casting has begun for two actresses, one lead and one supporting, and Tim and I will be holding auditions on Saturday.
We move fast when we have to, even when we’re not wearing pants. We will, however, be wearing pants on Saturday…
When we sent out the casting notice, I never suspected we’d be getting actual females. I mean, I knew we’d be getting females, but in what might be a twist of horrible irony, the casting call was exclusively for females, most of whom submitted headshots and/or body shots, which came through in stunning clarity. The realization that if I were a pervert, this would be a top-notch way to pick up girls, was somewhat alarming. Once I got over the initial surreality of it, the I put things into professional fun gear. This is starting out like a real production, with a small crew, a lighting kit, and real actors. I suppose I might be foolish for diving into directing a short film when there’s no money in it and no real hope of attracting attentions wtih it (even if it’s good), and no compensation for time spent on it–it’s sort of a lame duck when you look at it like that.
But it’s good experience, both for me as a producer and director (and writer) but also as a movie fanatic–I think I’ve become jaded about movies in general, having not seen very many good ones last year, and this experience might help instill some of that old love, not because it’s mine, but because it reflects a maxim of Hollywood that’s been in effect for as long as movies have existed: No one in Hollywood watches movies.
It’s because they’re too busy making them.

I’ve Gone And Done It Again

jelewis8 — Thu, 08 Feb 2007 06:08:41 +0000

I think I may have…oh no. I have.
I’ve been roped into directing a short film. Oh wait, I’m sorry. That would be one thing. But I’m writing and producing too. Which makes it three things, for you math challenged artsy types. That’s triple fudge sundae with all the calories and a complimentary heart attack. The script isn’t yet written, but will be by this Sunday. That’s the kind of time table I’m operating under.
Here’s the justification. One, I didn’t come to Los Angeles just to write. My passion has included directing, something I’ve had the pleasure of doing with four other films, all award winners. Granted, those awards are from one festival, and the competition has been somewhat anemic. However, I stand by my original statement. I do enjoy directing. I enjoy being behind the camera, setting up scenes, working with actors, and most of all, yelling “Cut” because that means that you either have to do it again or you don’t. A very binary craft.
Two, I haven’t directed anything in nearly two years. This is a travesty.
Three, I’m interested in pushing my own personal boundaries into interesting shapes. Mine are currently locked in step by my current writing and producing projects, and this will help expand my territory a bit.
Four, the time commitment will not be quite as much as it sounds. To be sure, I’m already underestimating the time required to shoot, but it’s good to have goals, if only to fail at achieving them. At least it’s a post on which to hang, like crucifixion victims on the Apian Way. “Don’t mess with the Roman Empire.”
Last I checked, Rome wasn’t doing so hot.
Granted, neither are the hanging chaps, but it’s the metaphor that counts here. The point is, it’s actually not out of the realm of doability, even with a constricted schedule. I’m about to relinquish one big writing project into the ether of self-satisfied completion. The other big one is sort of writing itself, so I’m not worried about moving forward on it. And as I’ve come to discover, my time is best spent with more, rather than less, on my plate.
So I’m directing. I’m even doing a proper casting call. Small cast, four people, two females, which will kind of be a first, in that I’ll be hopefully working with two actresses with, well, you know…actual acting experience. The roommate Tim, who spurred me into this jakey prospect, will play the male lead, and the other roommate, Joe, who is bearded, will play a hobo.
Yes, the short film has a hobo. Are you not sold on it already? Who isn’t stoked? Up for consideration in the Best Short Film Oscar nominations: This film. Due to hobos. May it be so.
So more as we progress forward. It’ll be fun. It’ll be a gallop to the finish. Did I mention the window of opportunity? We have a month and a half to complete the entire thing. Possible, yes. Probably, maybe. I sure hope so.

On the Horizon

jelewis8 — Wed, 11 Oct 2006 18:17:15 +0000

I woke up today with the distinct impression that I had been productive. It wasn’t entirely illusory, either. I spent a bit more than eight hours on a short film credit sequence “rough”, which I’ll be meeting about today. It looks good. It’s got a Tom Waits vibe, which is hard to describe but easy to imagine. Just think Alice or Innocent When You Dream and you’ll get an idea of the visual feel of the 25 second piece. I like it, which as I’ve said before, is rare. I’ll probably hate it in a few days, of course, which contrariwise happens quite frequently. But the nice thing is this is just a concept piece, something to help the director latch onto something and move forward with new thoughts. Of course, once I’m done and have permission, I’ll post the sequence. I’ve even thought about doing a “how it was made” post some time, though that’s usually as far as those intentions go. Thought’s a lot easier than action.
Speaking of action, this week I’ve had quite a flurry of activity. Got a call yesterday about a script synopsis I had pitched to an agent. This call was from a producer who read and loved the small five page treatment I’d put together, and subsequently we are meeting today to discuss possibilities. I say “possibilities” because in this town, the ground itself is composed of the stuff. Tiny particles, to be sure, but they’re everywhere. Unfortunately, the nebulous nature of possibilities is also a curse. As currency, it’s totally useless, deflated to the point of nausea. But we thrive on the potentiality of it, the hope of something happening. Whatever that something is, we always imagine it to be good. Usually it simply never materializes. Sometimes you get screwed. Very rarely you get a six figure deal out of the “possibility.”
The weather here portends something on the horizon. I don’t know if it’s autumn attempting to worm its way into southern California summer’s imminent domain setup, or if it’s just a vague fluttering of the smog variables, but lately it’s been cloudier and overcast, slightly cooler, and well, fall-like. Nights are positively chilly. I recently found myself driving along a street that had trees–real trees, not the palm trees that masquerade as flora. Believe me, I know the truth about palms. I’m convinced they’re cilia that line the skin surface of some horrifically constructed monster, upon which we’ve paved roads and built skyscrapers and apartment complexes. One of these days, that monster’s going to wake up, and the palm trees will sway like hair reacting to a chill. And then, my friends, it’s all over. Read my book to learn how it all works.
It’s hard to believe I’ve been here a year and three months now. Just a few days ago it was an even year. A few days before that, it was yesterday I had driven in from the east. I realize the distinct chronological difficulties of parsing the last three sentences, but it makes sense in my head, which by all rights should be a punishable offense. Still, I beg your indulgence and thank you for your patronage. See you on the morrow.

Grounds Zero Titles

jelewis8 — Thu, 18 May 2006 01:31:09 +0000

As promised, though a day late, is the title sequence I’ve been working on for the past month. The short film is about three coworkers at a coffee shop called Grounds Zero. The sequence runs just over a minute and includes a hybrid of hand drawn artwork, computer vector art created from scratch, and animated in After Effects.

UPDATE: The video may take a bit of time to load up. Sorry for the delay.
UPDATE 2: YouTube’s upload service was slower than molasses in Fargo in January. Uphill. So I’ve embedded the file myself. Enjoy.
UPDATE 3: I didn’t like the embedded look, so it’s now linked to open in a separate window.

Easter Rites

jelewis8 — Mon, 17 Apr 2006 19:54:44 +0000

I finished up the titles render for “Grounds Zero”, the short film starring Mo Collins and Keegan Michael Key, listening to Lyle Lovett and thinking about Easter, grateful for the beautiful cloudless sky for some odd reason–it’s not as if we don’t get them often here in SoCal–and appreciating my existence in a manner that would make me feel self-consciously introspective and happy-glib if it weren’t for the fact that I’m coming down to the last of my savings and without another paying gig soon, will have to break down and get at least a part time job somewhere. Yet somehow I’m more pleased than I can say.
For one, I finished up two big jobs, this render being the second, within a few days of each other, and considering my schedule, it’s pretty good timing. I’ve managed to effectively streamline my work schedule so that I have no time left over for writing; that was last week’s problem. I can probably wedge some time in, though I have one remaining paying gig that I’m trying to complete.
But enough about work and money woes. It’s the day after the most hallowed day in Christendom, which somehow sends more pleasure and reflection into my heart than seems possible given this cynical age where tradition and pomp and circumstances are viewed with disdain. Today, and hopefully for most of this week, I will be immune from the world’s jaded ugliness. At church we walked through the stations of the cross, or at least the modern church’s modified version, reduced to seven from the original fourteen (though a fifteenth was added in the eighteenth century). I don’t usually enjoy these kinds of productions. They seem elaborately staged to garner some kind of somber meditation, but at the bare minimum of expense for the soul. Reenactment is never a substitute for contrition, but it seems sometimes that’s exactly the intent. This time, however, seemed to speak right to my soul. I could only describe it later a a journey from selfish ambivalence to serene contemplation. I even watered up a few times as I found myself caught up in the moment of reflection of the sacrifice and salvation of Christ’s death. It’s difficult to convey that sense of relief one feels at the foot of the cross, but I certainly experienced it as I lay aside my burdens of the past year and yielded once again to the Creator. Truly a resurrection of the soul occurred yesterday.
I was supposed to have a podcast up last night, but work precluded. It should be up later this afternoon (this one will require some editing and the trailer has yet to be constructed). It’s filled with Easter juiciness, and is a little more serious and controversial than our previous efforts. That’s not to say this Fringecast doesn’t contain the irreverent and sarcastic humour you’ve come to know and love. But be warned: there is talk of menstrual cycles and bikini waxes.
On that note, I’ll leave you breathless with anticipation for the podcast. See you tomorrow.