Crispin Struthers...and a Parrot

The film industry a century ago was like the wild wild West...wide open for pioneers with vision, talent and guts. Fast forward fifty years, and all the real estate had mostly been grabbed by the big studios. You had to be in Hollywood to do anything, you had to be in the club, and you had to play by the rules. Change your name, sleep with the producer, work your way up from the bottom, whatever, because only the big studios had the money for all the equipment and sets necessary to make a movie.

Technology has changed all that, and now it seems to me a whole new frontier has opened up. Anyone can make a movie--I myself made one a few years ago with a pocket camera and zero budget, and won top prize in a film festival with it. As in everything else, in every era, 99% of everything that's produced is crap--but there is plenty of amazing good stuff, too. Much of it made by young kids.

Crispin Struthers is one of the new breed. He's an editor who's worked on David O. Russell's last three movies (his "trilogy"): The Fighter, Silver Linings Playbook, and American Hustle. Crispin is American-born but raised in the Scottish Highlands, and he majored in physics in college. Fast forward a few years and has he become a high school science teacher? A geek living in his parents' basement, busy inventing a bicycle-powered microwave oven? No, he's somehow gotten himself into the movie-editing business, big time. He was working in the studio next door to David O. Russell's, they needed someone to help out for a bit, he came aboard, he was amazing, and the rest is history.

Editors still work mostly on the West Coast. Although American Hustle was filmed in Boston, it was edited in California. Crispin Struthers was in Boston last week, however, speaking to some members of the Boston Creative Pro User Group, and I wanted to meet him, so I went. A disarming guy with a charming accent that's not quite American, but not really Scottish, either. A guy who doesn't mind posing with a parrot who somehow happens to be in the theater.

The most interesting part of Crispin Struthers's discussion, for me, was around David O. Russell's use of the Steadicam. That's a product invented in 1975 by Garrett Brown to combine the features of a traditional, clunky, dolly-mounted camera and a versatile, but shaky, hand-held camera. The Steadicam is a camera mount, or "sled," attached to a harness worn by the camera operator. The whole business is weighted and counterbalanced in such a way that the center of gravity is exactly at the cameraman's fingertip. Instead of a viewfinder, it has a monitor. The operator can walk and film, tracking the shot in the monitor, and still get smooth, steady footage. The Steadicam is what was used to get all those shots of Rocky Balboa jogging through the streets of Philadelphia, fighting in the ring, and of course running up the steps of the Philadelphia Museum of Art.

Russell likes the Steadicam so much because he can have it swing around in a dramatic scene, capturing, for example, both sides of an intense dialogue. With this method, cinema actors can really get into a part, much as stage actors do. Anyone who's been on a movie set knows how artificial traditional moviemaking is, with green screens, multiple takes, scenes filmed out of order, actors reacting not to what the audience ultimately sees, but to a blank-faced stand-in mouthing a part in a monotone, etc., etc. The Steadicam allows a movie to be filmed more like a play, and lets the director capitalize on all that dramatic intensity. Polly want an Oscar?

Fermat's Last Tango

I wish I could go back in time and tell my young self that in the 21st century, well into my dotage, I'd still be having an impossibly good time....that my Saturday nights would eclipse even those Yale proms, those romantic evenings on the Boul'Mich, those private parties at the Teheran Hilton. Take last night, for example. What in the world could beat sitting in my own office, drinking a glass of "red" (at $4.50/bottle, you don't get any more description than that), and watching Fermat's Last Tango with the nerdiest person I know?

At least one of us thought that this musical inspired by Andrew Wiles and his proof of Fermat's Last Theorem was hilarious. In it, Daniel Keane (a.k.a. Wiles) solves the most famous problem in math (a solution to Pierre de Fermat's 1637 theorem "the equation xn + yn = zn has no solution when x, y and z are postive whole numbers and n is a whole number greater than 2"). Then Fermat himself appears to him and points out a hole in the proof. Eventually Keane corrects his proof, but not before a couple of trips to the AfterMath, where he meets Pythagoras, Euclid, Newton, and Gauss.

If you like catchy tunes with phrases like “Taniyama-Shimura conjecture” worked into the lyrics, this is the show for you. If, like the other one of us, you don't especially care for musicals of any stripe, it's at least a bit of a math history refresher. Meanwhile I can always dream that Cervantes, Shakespeare, Molière or Pound will show up from wherever dead writers go and reassure me that I have even more exciting evenings to look forward to between now and whenever I kick the bucket.

Close Your Eyes and Look As Far As You Can See

A visit to Real Art Ways packs a double whammy. It's a cinema (with reasonably-priced indie movies you frequently won't find anywhere else besides NYC and SF) and an art gallery. Once you've paid for your movie ticket, the gallery is free. And they have wine!

I saw several exhibits there this weekend. In the main gallery, Olu Oguibe has built a beautiful, traditional New England stone wall. Does putting it inside an artspace, as opposed to a field, make it art? Well, it begins a dialog at least. Oguibe fantasizes about people heatedly discusses this question while viewing his piece.

In the Real Room is an exhibit by Ryan V. Brennan called "Close Your Eyes and Look As Far As You Can See." It consists of four pieces of "cinemallage"--elaborate, colorful sets which look like pop-up books. Each piece has a tiny screen on which plays part of a stop-motion animation fantasy. The animations were filmed using the sets. Cinema + collage = cinemallage. Get it? It's accessible and cool.

Yay! Grand Prize winner of Ashfield FilmFest!

Enduring Love

Last night I watched a rather disturbing movie, Enduring Love, starring Daniel Craig. A writer/professor, while picnicking in a field with his girlfriend, sees a hot air balloon almost taking off with only a child inside. He, along with three other men, grabs ahold of the balloon to try to prevent it from lifting. It rises anyway, and he lets go in time to save himself. One by one the others drop, except for one man, who hangs on till the balloon is very high, then falls to his death. Ironically, it's later learned that the balloon eventually landed without any harm coming to the child; i.e., the man died in vain.

The professor had been about to propose marriage to his girlfriend. Because of the disturbing incident, he never gets the chance. In fact, it so takes over his thoughts that their relationship ends up suffering.

What interested me most about this movie was the professor's take on his own role in the story. He relates the incident over and over to the poor girlfriend and to many others. He researches wind currents; draws pictures and diagrams of the balloon. But he never articulates his own initiative in letting go.

Instead, he says things like, "I wonder who let go first?" or ""We all must have let go at the same time, except for the poor doctor." The psychlogical realism of his manner is arresting.

It's commonly assumed that we tell stories to communicate with other people. In fact, our primary audience is ourselves. From nearly infinite bits of data we pick and choose, fashioning a reality. Each time we retell a story, we're shaping it into a version which we can live with and which helps us process the events. We call that version "the truth."

Luck Be a Lady

It's official! The "Untitled Blackjack Picture" finally has a name.

The movie's based on Ben Mezrich's book Bringing Down the House, but a movie with that name already existed. The producers were going to call the movie "21," but then legal problems surfaced, and the project became the "Untitled Blackjack Picture, formerly known as '21.'" At one point, the filmmakers were encouraging Boston Globe readers to think up a new name.

Legal hurdles have apparently been cleared, and the movie is now officially "21." Boston was still basking in the glow of "The Departed" when Kevin Spacey and company arrived to film "21." Now the Hollywood crew is gone, the movie's not coming out till next year, and wannabe actors in the area are concentrating on the next movie to be made locally: "27 Dresses."

According to Variety: "'Grey's Anatomy' star Katherine Heigl will play a single woman who has served as a bridesmaid 27 times. She is enlisted once again for the job, and this time it's particularly painful: Her sister is marrying the man the bridesmaid is madly in love with."

Filming on this one begins in Providence in May. Apparently lots of extras will be needed for the wedding scenes. M's got a summer home not too far from where the set will be. The casting director's got our resumes and headshots. Now the best we can do is pray. Luck, be a lady tonight!

This Toto Is Not From Kansas

Tonight I went up to Montague for a film screening. Bridge of Names, made last year as a short, turned out quite well in the opinion of the producers, so they decided to expand it to feature length. Cast, crew, and potential investors were invited to view it in the original version. The remaining scenes are scheduled to be shot in May and August of this year.

Liz Foley and Peter Hobbs, makers of the film, are known collaboratively as Elyria Pictures. Liz is a Smith alum and Pete a Hampshire alum. They teach film at the New York Film Academy, but make pictures around here so they have an excuse to come back. The screening was held at Marina Goldman's home, a spacious Victorian with a wide-screen TV.

We had wine, we had cheese, we had chitchat, and then we had the screening. After the film, our hostess, Marina, had something she wanted to show everyone. A Japanese toilet named Toto.

The "Neorest" model from Toto does everything but pee for you. That panel on the wall is what you use to program it. You can turn the various automated features on or off.

As you step up to the toilet, it senses whether you are a man or a woman, and raises either the lid or both the lid and the seat. The seat heats if you want it to. When you're done, a stream of aerated water washes you, and warm air dries you. When you stand up, the toilet flushes itself and the lid closes.

It was impressive, I guess, but it didn't make me want to rush out and buy one. I'm reserving judgment on the film as well.

Cicily Goes Hollywood

Last night and this morning was the shoot for the "Untitled Blackjack Picture." My old friend Alma had landed a part in it as well, so we drove into Boston together on Thursday afternoon. Parked in the Boston Common Parking Garage, as instructed, and looked for the bus which would take us to the set. Here it is, with some engaging muppets who happened to be strolling by. After this shot, I put away my camera for the evening. Try to take a picure on the set and you're thrown out--into a box, with rats, as they warn you.

Throughout the night (we were there for eleven hours) a total of maybe two minutes of the film was shot. If they even use the scenes. In the first scene, Kevin Spacey and Jim Sturgess walk down the street, heads bent, deep in conversation. Later, Sturgess comes back along the same street, glancing from a scrap of paper up to the buildings as if searching for an address. Still later, he comes out of an alley. And that's it.

These scenes were shot in Chinatown. Gund Kwok (which means "heroine" in Chinese), the only Asian Women Lion & Dragon Dance Troupe in the United States, provided local color. One of the women told me during a break that Thursday is their night to practice anyway. A pyrotechnics squad provided extremely noisy firecrackers. Some of us, myself included, scored sparklers, which we were supposed to light for each take. Sparklers are illegal in Massachusetts, but the head of the squad told Alma and me that we were operating under his license.

Between scenes, we could sit inside. The third floor of a restaurant was reserved for us. Catered food was brought in for two meals and snacks. Union actors are fed first, because if they go more than a certain length of time without food, they get a hefty bonus (something like $300 apiece). But there was plenty left over for the rest of the talent (as I now prefer to designated).

Traffic was light going to Boston and returning, since we were going in the opposite direction from most everyone else. The night was extremely mild. We accumulated around 12 hours, which means we'll get some overtime pay. The casting company validated our parking. Alma and I got to chat about some projects we've got lined up for spring and summer. I got home and crossed my number one resolution ("be in a movie") off of the napkin on my refrigerator. I got to work with one of my favorite actors. All in all, a great night.

Untitled Blackjack Picture

Today I got a call from Billy Dowd Casting. I'm in the "Untitled Blackjack Picture!" I have to be in Boston by 5:30 tomorrow afternoon for the shoot. It's an all-night gig, probably till around 5:30 a.m.

The "Untitled Blackjack Picture" is a Columbia Pictures production starring Kevin Spacey and Kate Bosworth. It's based on the true story of students from the M.I.T. Media Lab who, in the summer of 1994, figured how to beat the house in blackjack, went to Las Vegas, and made millions of dollars before they were kicked out. A book was written about them, and now it's been turned into a screenplay.

Blackjack is about the only casino game which requires any skill. Slots, roulette, and so on are pretty much blind luck, with the odds stacked against the player. But in blackjack, if you keep track of the cards that have been played and know the odds, you can beat the house.

"Card counters," as these astute players are known, are still at it. But they have to keep a low profile, moving from table to table and not winning too much at once because the casinos, obviously, don't like them and try to kick them out if they spot them. Some of the M.I.T. group have packaged their knowhow and you can buy their method online. Undoubtedly there'll be a run on card counting kits once this movie comes out. So much concentration is required, however, that the casinos will probably only benefit from suckers trying to beat them at their own game.

Callback

Yesterday my actor friend M sent me an excited email. She had just gotten a callback on the industrial gig she had tried out for in Boston the other day. Later, she telephoned to fill me in on the details.

It seems the head of the casting company had called, apologizing first of all for contacting her directly rather than going through her agent. "I couldn't find the agent's contact information", she explained. "You didn't attach it to your headshot or résumé."

"I don't have an agent," M admitted, pleased nevertheless that Maura Tighe should think she had someone to represent her.

"But I saw the woman myself," Maura insisted. "She signed you in at the casting call. She was wearing a fur coat and carrying a briefcase."

"That wasn't my agent, that was my friend Cicily," M told her. "She was just coming along for the ride."

I had dressed nicely in my favorite Max Studio skirt, expensive boots, and "fur" coat because, well, it was Boston. Carried M's briefcase for her because she had too many bags and not enough hands. Signed her in because she had forgotten her reading glasses. Stood in the hall giving her what must have looked like a pep talk because I didn't want the casting agents to hear my dumb questions. I guess maybe I did look and behave like an agent.

Hey--was I slipping into a role?? Getting myself noticed by a casting agent? This acting stuff might be contagious!

Casting Call

Today I accompanied an actor friend to a casting call in Boston. The gig was a commercial for Fentora (fentanyl buccal tablet), a recently FDA-approved opioid from Cephalon, Inc. designed to manage breakthrough pain in cancer patients. The medication is administered by placing the tablet directly into the buccal cavity (the space between the upper cheek and gum), where it effervesces and is rapidly absorbed into the buccal mucosa.

My friend was happy to have me along, and I was happy to be there. She had company on the trip, and help navigating the Back Bay. With a purse, wardrobe bag, and other paraphernalia to haul from her car to the casting company offices, she was grateful for an extra pair of hands to carry a bulky satchel. Having forgotten her reading glasses, she needed someone to sign in for her. For my part, I was just extremely curious about the whole process. Between signing her in, helping to organize her stuff, and giving her pep talks, I soaked in as many details as I could about the place, the people, and the process.

Besides my friend's part, there were roles for her husband, a pharmacist, a baby-carriage-pushing customer, and a group of friends watching a sports event on TV. She and the other actors had headshots taken. Then they were briefed on the story line, and told to ad-lib their parts. They all disappeared into a back room and ran through the commercial twice. Since her role involved placing the tablet in her mouth, one of the agency photographers took close-ups of her mouth and hands. I waited in the reception area meanwhile. In less than half an hour, they were done.

Payment for a part like this is around a thousand dollars. If the commercial is picked up and shown frequently, the actor can get residuals amounting to much more. But an actor's overhead is high. If you want to be considered, you have to be ready to show up at a moment's notice. That precludes having a decent steady job. You have to live in a pricey metropolitan area, or spend the time and money to get to one at inconvenient hours when public transportation may not be running. You have to have headshots and resumes made up, and distribute them freely. If you're eligible and join the Screen Actor's Guild and want to pull in the higher union wages, you have to pay thousands of dollars in dues. You have to go to countless auditions and callbacks with little chance of making the final cut. And if you want parts in gigs like commercials for buccal tablets, you have to think about spa treatments, cosmetic surgery, and having all your teeth capped.

Screenwriting Group

I am a member of the Northampton Screenwriters' Group, which ordinarily confines itself to scripts for movies and television, as opposed to theater. (That's the "screen" in screenwriting.) This week, however, we gave the floor to playwright Ezra LeBank, who wanted to workshop his new play, Fresh Air.

At meetings of my poetry group, we each read a piece and others critique it. Since screenplays are typically longer than poems, that format would be unwieldy for the Noho group. So each screenwriting meeting focuses on one writer. That person presents a complete draft, one act, two short pieces--whatever he or she wants help with. Everyone else contributes suggestions, speaking parts, or whatever's needed. The presenter is also responsible for refreshments.

Ezra had a complete draft and mainly wanted to hear it read. Wade Wofford, founder of the group, has an actors' group as well, and pulled some readers from it. Because Ezra is a graduate student at Smith, he scored a meeting room in Smith's gorgeous Mendenhall Center for the Performing Arts. Fifteen or twenty people showed up.

This is a pretty new group, and Wade's still working out the kinks. Ezra's play took almost an hour and a half to read. We didn't break until after the full read. With the preliminaries, that took us to over two hours. Snacks were some soda, juice, and chips. Outside it was starting to snow. A pot of hot coffee--the real thing, with caffeine--would have hit the spot.

After the break, we discussed the play. A number of people didn't stay till the end (three and a half hours is a long time for a meeting on a weeknight), but I did. I was more interested in the critique than in the play itself. Some of the comments seemed goofy to me, but Wade's were right on the money.

Wade, who's new to the area, was fairly wowed by the Mendenhall Center, and eager to lock in a room there on a regular basis. Or find another roomy, convenient spot. Next time, we're scheduled to meet at the Media Education Foundation, but they don't allow too many continuous bookings. Packard's, a congenial Noho bar, has a back room available to groups, but the room's not very big.

Will the screenwriters find a home? Will the format get ironed out? Will the refreshments improve? Will Cicily have anything to present by spring? Stay tuned.