Russell Banks Extended Interview

Russell Banks, talking about the Lake Placid Film Forum--at 2:20 he talks about Trailer Park...woo hoo!

trailer park #10

Well, TrailerPark played to a standing "O" at the Lake Placid Film Forum last weekend, and the book's author, Russell Bank, in whose hands the potential future distribution of the project rested, pronounced it worthy, saying ''The morality of the characters and the themes and tone of the book translated to screen''

Nice! The following comes from the co-directors, who evidently have gotten married and created a joint email account:

First of all, to those who came to the premiere in Athens, thank you and I hope you enjoyed the movie. To those who couldn't make it, I'm sure there will be many other opportunities to see the product.

We just got back from the Lake Placid Film Forum where we were lucky enough to screen the film for Russell, as well as some other industry professionals such as Richard Russo and Courtney Hunt and 300 other audience members. Everyone responded really positively and Russell was absolutely thrilled. He is going to do everything he can to help us get into festivals and hopefully get some kind of distribution down the line. We even did a little Q and A and people were asking how we managed to get such a great cast for a student film, so thank you to all for that. We are currently take the summer to re-edit and make some tweaks and changes, but hopefully we should be able to get some DVD's out to everyone in the fall.

In the meantime, follow the blog, keep in touch, and let us know how everyone is doing post Trailerpark.

And I still haven't seen it!!!

De Mayne's Final Lesson (Scaramouche, 1952)

My favorite Hollywood swordfighter is Mel Ferrer, who moves so cleanly and elegantly--this clip from Scaramouche, in which he fights Stewart Granger, is a great example of swordfighting for the stage/screen...

Sonny and the Red Shoes

                                                        Sonny, napping with Duckie
                                                

The other day, while I was mowing grass out back, our Goldie Sonny got one of Dani's shoes and ruined it. He has a thing for little seams--he likes to very delicately chew the straps from her high heels, or the velcro strap from the backs of my ballcaps. It's as if he likes degree of difficulty--he could easily just shred these things, but he prefers close work.

This pair of shoes of Dani's was brand new, she had had worn them maybe once, and she had a couple of new outfits she was eager to wear with them. I put the damaged shoe on her little telephone desk in the kitchen.

As I was in my truck, backing out to head to the park for  a show, Dani pulled into the driveway, home from work. I tried to prepare her--" Before you go in the house, I want you to think about the Sonny you miss when you're away on trips. I want you to think how terrible you felt when he was ill that one time. I want you to see that eager-to-please face that's in there right now, so happy to have you home." Her eyes narrowed in suspicion, and I told her what he did. He hasn't done anything like this in a long time, actually, he's gone from being that evil puppy who scored deep gouges in our drywall with his teeth, and who destroyed countless shoes and pillows and teddy bears, to being an adult dog whose main weakness is that he counter-surfs when you aren't looking, and he likes to shred napkins.  All in all, an admirable Golden Retriever.

But not the sharpest tool in the shed. He doesn't often think things through. He has to be a good host when you come through the door--when you first walk in, he is there, wagging and making Scooby noises. Then he disappears for a few seconds, and always come right back with something in his mouth, a gift for you, just his way of saying thanks for being you. Usually it is a squeaky toy, or the pitiful remains of a teddy bear he's shredded, or a bone, or whatever he can get his mouth around in a hurry and get back to you. He once brought me one of our kittens, who dangled from his soft mouth in resignation.

 Dani told me she steeled herself before entering, remembering it was her fault that she left the shoes near his napping place, so it was really like leaving crack next to an outreach center. She walked through the door, Sonny greeted her with his usual enthusiasm, disappeared, and came back with-- of course-- the other red shoe in his mouth. One might think he was rubbing it in, bringing the undamaged mate to the shoe, but I like to think Sonny is a "glass half-full kind of guy". He was just demonstrating that there was still one perfectly good shoe, so, you know, when you think about it, everybody wins! Dani stood there for a moment, shocked by his stupidity ( none of us should be anymore), then she started laughing, and dropped down and gave him a big hug. So you know, in a way, he was right--everybody wins! 

trailer park #9

This is a short entry--the premiere of the film happened without me, as impossible as that sounds.  Difficult for me to imagine anything happening without me, but there it is--my mom and sister Lisa went down, linked up with Lisa's son Nathan and his wife Amy. They saw my dad and his wife there with another couple--my mom said she didn't see him in the film, which is bad--he was more excited about this thing than I was, in all truth. Hope she just missed him--mom would miss me in a movie unless someone pointed me out to her... 

I also had a few former and current students attend as well, which was nice. I get reports that I did a good job--but then what else are they gonna say? " Hey, saw that film of yours--you sucked!" 

They had posters of each of the principal characters displayed at Memorial Auditorium, where the premiere was held. Here's mine:

Sigh. They move on to the Lake PLacid Film Forum next weekend, where I'll miss that as well. I'll be sweating like a whore in church in Schiller Park, in my wig and doublet and hose and boots, swinging a sword and trying not appear too winded after each fight...

Just Don't Care

The Tony's? Don't care. I know I should, being a theatre guy, but I don't. Don't know what plays are up for an award, and don't care. Unaware of honorees and presenters, and guess what--don't care. Couldn't even begin to tell you what shows are running in NY at the moment--and--you guessed it--don't care. Who are the biggest Broadway stars these days? Don't know and don't care.

I read the NY Times online each day, except for the arts section. I dunno why, but I never ever do. I stick with the front page, intl. news, and opinion page--the rest doesn't apply to me at all. Don't care.

I don't judge my friends who do care. We all have things we care about. NY theatre just isn't one of them, for me.

But that isn't all. Fashion--don't care. Celebrity news--don't care. Automobiles--don't care. Blood sports--don't care. Plight of the homeless--sorry, don't care. Abortion--not my bidness, don't care. Hockey--don't care. Basketball--don't care. Tennis--please! Home decorating--obviously don't care. 

Don't care. You can't make me care. Just don't freakin care.

Caliban Costume

I just learned I'll be wearing a Spandex body suit as Caliban in next month's The Tempest. Put...the...donut...down...and...back...away...slowly...

Prerelease...

Conor Hogan, supervising producer of Trailer Park, sends along this leaked version of the film--

http://senduit.com/cac4fe

The Other Paper Arts They barely take time to buckle their swash

The Other Paper Arts They barely take time to buckle their swash

Shared via AddThis

Medical Fu

Had a liver biopsy today, and it wasn't fun, though not as bad as I was given to believe. Back in the mid 90s, while undergoing a series of tests that would ultimately reveal inoperable pancreatic cancer, my uncle described his liver biopsy as the most painful thing he'd ever experienced. He swore if they ever wanted another, he'd refuse. Through the years, I have heard other tales of the painful procedure, one woman describing it as more painful than childbirth.

I am here to tell you that it was nothing like the worst pain I have ever felt. In fact, I barely remember the procedure, thanks to the miracle that is called "the twilight drug"... I have always reacted strongly to anesthesia--a little goes a long way for me, and they always have to revive me afterward, but even though they told me it wouldn't be very strong, more of a relaxing kind of thing,  I knew I was gonna be sleeping through the whole thing. And I did. Even though the chattiest prep nurse in history ramped up the degree of difficulty--in the brief span before the doctor came, and before she connected up the good drugs, I learned that she is the oldest of 6, put her mom in a home last year, is the most common-sensical member of her family, has a niece who is 18 and pregnant and lazy, has a nephew who is 25 and just quit his job of 4 years so he could continue a two week party streak with his buddies ( Oh, to be young again!)...kinda got in the way of my chi, as I was trying to ease into unconsciousness...fortunately, my unconsciousness skill set is highly developed, and about three seconds after the drug hit my vein I was gone. I woke up in the recovery room, confused at first and thinking that the procedure hadn't happened yet, and then when I discovered the bandage, enormous relief waved over me that I had escaped pain worse than childbirth. I could have taken it, but why? The miracle of modern medicine!! 

Tonight though, it feels like a very big guy hauled off and hammered me in the liver. They took three slices of it, and I thought I smelled sauteed onions coming from the next room.