I have to say something. I have read all the articles on various news outlets, friends’ Facebook and Twitter pages, and frankly, I’m surprised that more people aren’t speaking out about this issue. This is the issue of misogyny and sexism (specifically sexual harassment/assault) in the film industry, and independent film in particular.
 
I have ‘liked’ friends’ posts, made intermittent comments, but the more I see, the more strongly I feel that we as a community have failed. And we have failed miserably.
 
Anyone who knows me, knows that I absolutely consider myself a feminist, and I am outspoken on pretty much everything I believe in, from equality for all, freedom of speech, inclusion, and the sanctity of art in all of its forms. I am not one to stay silent. But I have been troubled by all the recent news stories surrounding Cinefamily and Alamo, and how we have failed to protect women at these institutions.
 
No, I have never worked at either organization. But I still feel a certain amount of responsibility for what has transpired, and that it has been going on for such a long time. If I’m being completely frank, I believe that the entire independent film community, from producers, directors, distributors, exhibitors, and critical publications, should be looking inward at how they have helped to create this atmosphere where men feel empowered to treat women as if they are objects to possess, rather than living, breathing humans with intrinsic worth equal to their own.
 
Something is very, very wrong, and it apparently has been for a very, very long time. As more and more women come forward and new stories come to light, I can’t help but feel strong pangs of guilt that this was happening right under my nose. I was lucky enough to work within an organization where I didn’t feel as though my worth was based solely on my physical appearance, but clearly, not everyone was/is.
 
I have read the email in which a female employee was at a conference where she was forced to share a room with a single bed with her male boss, which made her very uncomfortable, and was told to ‘deal with it’. Every time I think about this, it makes my stomach turn. Not because it is a despicable thing to do to a person (which it absolutely is), but because I was at that conference.
 
I don’t personally know this woman, but I’m sure I saw her over the course of those three days. It is a small enough community I couldn’t have never seen her. I did see her boss, seemingly everywhere, being adored by the masses for his ability to spark love for movies in young people. Now I can’t help but go through every moment I remember of every conference I went to, wondering what I was missing that was right there in front of me, along with three hundred other people.
 
That’s the part that gets me. In a room of that many people, who are all espousing values of inclusion, equality, and art, this woman felt she had no one she could go to for help. Let me say that again: she had no one she could go to for help.
 
What does that say about the community? What does that say about us?
 
It says some very unpleasant things.
 
Things that need to be addressed immediately.
 
As a member of the independent film community, I feel it is the responsibility of all of us to speak up, say something, and make real change. Yes, there are more women in positions of power within the independent film community, but there are still not enough (For the record, I would include that there are not enough people of color, LGBT, trans, and other marginalized people in positions of power in the independent film community as well.). There are still many non-profit boards that are solely comprised of men (white men at that), organizations that are headed by white men as Executive Director, and women end up reporting to them.
 
There is too much talk about how to create fans, and not enough talk about inclusion and support for marginalized people. That is how we got here: by trying to be cool.
 
Well, I was never cool, and I’m not cool now.
 
So here is what I am saying. Instead of holding a conference where this community talks about donor development, branding, and the merits of programming repertory cinema, we need to talk about the community itself. Here are a few talking points for the panel discussions:

1. How can we empower staff to report hostile work environments?
2. How can we create an environment of community, inclusion, and safety among our volunteers?
3. How can we ensure that our boards are comprised of people of diverse backgrounds and ethnicities?
4. How can we bridge across our individual organizations to provide support to other organizations that may need it, and create a larger sense of community, inclusion, and support?
5. How can we train our boards, Executive Directors, staff, volunteers, donors, members, filmmakers, and audiences to respect one another as people of equal value, equal voice, and equal contributions?
6. How can we be better?

 
Without serious discussions, there will never be improvement. It will not just go away. It has to be eradicated, with active solutions to change behavior and attitude. So now, it's time for the independent film community to put their money where their mouths are, and stop paying lip service to ideas that are not being practiced. Be better, friends. I know we can, if we work together.

So I picked up this little gem at a conference a few weeks back. It was sitting on the requisite book table outside the main ballroom, so of course, I had to browse, and ended up with this, along with several others. That day, I invoked a rule where I wouldn't purchase more books than I could fit in one hand, so I ended up with about five or six books. What can I say, I have big hands.

Anyway, I settled down to read this book, which is at its heart a self-help book, or an inspirational book, whichever you want to call it. However, as I'm sure you can guess, it approaches its message from a place where you don't try to be perfect, or happy, or rich, or anything except yourself. Oh, and there's plenty of swearing in the book. I didn't mind it (it sounded a lot like my inner monologue, so...yeah), but if you can't handle a lot of F bombs, this wouldn't be the book for you. However, I did notice that as the book went on, he uses the language quite a bit less than he does in the beginning. 

I have to say, there are a lot of things in this book that do really resonate with me, and I often find myself wondering about. For instance, why do we always have to be happy? Sure, happiness is always a great thing, but being happy all the time sounds impossible. Manson says you don't have to be. I'm cool with that. He also makes the case for being good, but not perfect. I'm on board. He also discusses not comparing yourself to others. What you consider a win isn't what someone else considers a win. It's all relative. Yup.

All in all, there isn't a ton of concrete stuff in the book in terms of a step one, step two sort of help, but there are a lot of ideas that are worth remembering or writing down in the quest to not worry about how things are going, get through life, and not give any f*cks what is going on around you. Just enjoy life. That's essentially it.




















​

First things first, I've never read The Alchemist. I've heard some people say it's a must read, and others say it's a complete waste of time. I like the title, but sheesh, there's just so many books in the world to read. Maybe I'll get to it eventually.

So I came across The Spy. I'm not gonna lie, I was pulled in by the cover. Yes, that's how I often judge books. Sue me. (Yes kids, the cover matters. Make it a good one.) The novel is a somewhat fictionalized version of Mata Hari, one of the most famous courtesans in history. She was allegedly a spy for the Germans during WWI, and was executed as such. That's what happened in real life.

The book is told as a series of letters from her to her lawyer while in prison, and recounts her adventures in life and what she felt about things happening around her. There's a lot of true stuff in here, but the rest is imagined. However, it definitely felt true, and painted a picture of a complex and strong-willed woman doing her best to get by in a time when independence wasn't something women had. It is a story that is at times tragic, and other times triumphant. The writing is clean and simple, and well written in a way that I found engaging. I read this book in an afternoon, mostly on a plane, and I couldn't stop thinking about it for days afterward. I would definitely put this novel in the category of feminist literature, so anyone who's into that should definitely check it out. It's also interesting to dive into Paris at the turn of the 20th Century, which was a rich cultural time in the City of Lights. Part of me would love to see this turned into a movie, but given that there's never been a good movie made about Mata Hari, perhaps it's best to leave well enough alone. Either way, read this book. You'll feel smarter, and get a good story out of it to boot.

Disclaimer: This is not going to be a review. The following post assumes you have seen the movie, so don’t read it if you don’t want spoilers. I guarantee nothing except for (hopefully) some food for thought, and hope for a little discussion about the film between lovers of the form. As you were…

So today, let's talk about Spider-Man. I wasn't sure. What do I expect from this film since everyone said that it was new and improved and something special. I for one, was skeptical. I'd heard this song before and I always ended up coming out of the theater disappointed yet again, tired of the boy movie bullshit where it's all just guns and violence and punching, I have been yearning for a film that had a little more soul to it.

This film may not have had a lot of soul, but what it did have was something it didn't have before. It didn't take itself quite so seriously as films like Logan or Captain America, but instead featured teenagers doing things that teenagers do. These were kids that felt awkward and unpopular and crushed on each other with the sincerity and fervor that can only come during the teen years. Basically, this was a superhero film as if John Hughes had directed it. It harkened back to films such as Sixteen Candles and The Breakfast Club, with its earnestness and awkwardness that we all can relate to, whether or not we can shoot webs from our fingers.

I also appreciated the attention paid to the diversity of American culture. And I don't mean diversity in some affirmative action kind of way but more in a way of recognizing that America is more than one viewpoint more than one culture. More than one person. For instance, the Michelle character (played by Zendaya), while still a side character, puts forth lots of one liners that draw attention to the fact that her world is not the white man's world, and she recognizes that, and she may be the only one. She also recognizes that her teacher (a white man) does not see this in the scene at the Washington monument, where she comments that it was a building built by slaves. It is particularly interesting in that her white male teacher shakes his head and says no it's not quite that bad, but the black security guard basically nods and corroborates the truth that the teacher has chosen to ignore from his inherently privileged position in society.

I also appreciated the more subtle references to our cultural assumptions that the film plays with. One of those moments is when the principal appears and calls Peter into his office, he identifies himself as the principal and he's a tall, somewhat imposing Asian man. Okay, sure, the principal is an asian man that's fine. Not that much of an unusual choice, right? But then, in the shot in his office, he sits talking to Peter. The production design in this scene serves to give us a window into the principal as a character, which is that of an American patriot who has served his country with a photograph of the him in his military uniform, complete with medals in the background. This more subtle piece of the storytelling is interesting in that it subverts the white male American viewpoint that only white males have served this country.

The last major point of the film that I felt really forces the audience to contend with their own assumptions of what this society in America should look like, and what a family should look like was really interesting. When Peter goes to his crush Michelle's house and discovers that his nemesis is her father, I personally was surprised in realizing my own assumptions about his crush. I assumed that her parents, both parents, were of a similar race as she was. So when it turned out that her mother was black and her father was white, I found myself being surprised, and if the girl had not been of mixed race, I don't know if it would have been as surprising of a twist. I'd be interested to hear how other people felt when they realized the twists in the film. I, for one, was surprised, then was surprised that I was surprised. Mind you, I didn't have a problem with this plot twist, it was just unexpected. And the filmmakers made it even more unexpected by using our assumptions. Or possibly just my assumptions. .

I would be interested to know how other people felt at this plot twist, and if they had the same sense of surprise that I did. I think this kind of surprise really speaks to our assumptions as a society, that a viewpoint in any kind of story is going to be predominantly white and predominantly male?

Disclaimer: This is not going to be a review. The following post assumes you have seen the movie, so don’t read it if you don’t want spoilers. I guarantee nothing except for (hopefully) some food for thought, and hope for a little discussion about the film between lovers of the form. As you were…

I wasn’t sure what to expect when I saw Baby Driver, but I had heard lots of things. I’d heard an interview with Edgar Wright and some guy who made a cameo in the film on NPR, and they talked about its authenticity and the music and whatnot. I’d heard the movie was cool, and fun, and unique. I also knew the movie was made by Sony, a studio that is, by all accounts, struggling at the box office this year, and really need something to turn their momentum around. But I wasn’t really prepared for what I saw.

What I saw was a reverent homage to the French New Wave, unashamed, loud, and proud. I don’t know if anyone else saw it, but for me, it was difficult not to see it, especially once I saw one of Baby’s cassettes marked ‘Enfant Terrible’. I mean, come on. That’s what they called themselves in the beginning, right? It’s right there, staring me in the face. When I saw it, I couldn’t help but smile at the reference. And then all I saw was references.

Baby’s somewhat giddy dance just to get coffee, along a street littered with people that were definitely not there by accident, graffiti that was bright and loud and said something, and its complete choreographed structure screamed out Umbrellas of Cherbourg so loudly, I would not have been surprised to see Catherine Deneuve saunter down the street casually. I kind of wish she would have.

The star, Ansel Elgort, is an actor I only have a passing familiarity with, but I couldn’t help but think he looks like Antoine from The 400 Blows and Michel from Breathless rolled into one angsty, romantic, barreling towards doom teenager. He actually looks like them. Acts like them. He’s cool and we love him, even though he’s a rogue on the wrong side of law. See for yourself:

Ah, the New Year. A time for reflecting and resolutions. Time for the obligatory post of the year, where I write something profound and inspirational. Or not.

First, to 2016. Good riddance. Not every day was a terrible day, but there were plenty of days that sucked, and plenty of days where I wondered what the hell I was doing and the weight of temporary unhappiness fell on me like a ton of bricks. There were some good days, like the day I did yoga on the field of Dodger Stadium. I'm not a yoga person, but it was pretty cool to stand on the grass and look up at the stands. So there was that. I also released my novel, which sold about a dozen copies. It was a proud achievement for me, even though the resulting readership was less than stellar. But that's okay. I can write more books. Eventually more than just my mom and my friends will want to read them. Or I'll get more friends. 

Now, to 2017. There's plenty to think about here. In the past, I have made half-hearted resolutions that are forgotten in seven days or less. But this year, I didn't make resolutions. I made goals. Big goals. And I broke them down into little steps so that I can have a daily plan to get to the big goals. They fall into a few categories, but the main goal is writing. And it's a BIG one. The goal is to write 1,000 words every day of the year, which is not a small task. Sure, there will be days that I write more and days that I write less, but the point is to write. This year, I'm concentrating on short stories for the most part, and I plan to write enough that there will be one story for every week of the year, for a total of 52. Yup, that's a big one. But the point is to get better, and writing a lot will help get me there. And, as Ray Bradbury said, you can't write 52 bad stories in a row. Perhaps I'll prove him wrong!

I know there is no reason to believe that merely flipping the calendar from December to January will create any sort of change in the world or myself, but it is a good place for beginnings, and so here I am at the beginning. I'm looking forward to meeting the December 31, 2017 version of me, and am excited to go on that journey. If you'd like to read along on this journey with me, well, the more the merrier!

Ho.Ly. Crap.

​Perfect movie for holiday time.

If you haven't seen this film yet, go. Now. Don't even finish reading this post. Just go and see it. I'll wait.
..........

Ok, now that you're back, didn't you just LOVE that? I for one, am very much looking forward to many more movies from Damien Chazelle. I loved Whiplash, and I loved this one. And there's nothing else out there like it. And now, for the film nerdery.

This is the most beautiful love letter in a film, and not just a love letter to people. It's also a love letter to Los Angeles, classic musicals of the 30s and 40s, and to artists trying to stay true to their art everywhere. I can't wait for the inevitable tours to start up that take you to all the haunts of these two from the movie. And there are many. Griffith Park, for one. Who doesn't love Griffith Park? The opening scene of a traffic jam is one that all Angelenos can relate to, and the song and dance number calls out an understanding that yes, we have traffic, but we also have lots of sun, lots of struggling artists, and the most amazing mix of culture and people you can find in the world. That, all by itself, is enough for me to keep coming back to see the film over and over again. The unadulterated hope in the opening scene was enough to bring tears to my eyes and make my heart skip a beat. 

The homage to old classic Hollywood is hard not to see, and is so lovely and tender. Note that this is a true homage, with the quick cut to an old movie scene driving up to Griffith Park, then Chazelle recreates that exact shot, making the viewer well aware of what he's doing, rather than simply stealing the shot and calling it his own (like some other directors *cough* Tarantino *cough* have done). The colors, the music, the love story, it's all Old Hollywood, except it's new and reimagined for today, when things are definitely different.

The love of art and creativity. Ah, such love. It's the most doomed kind of love, even in this, the most hopeful of love stories. Success is never guaranteed, and always comes at a price. But we love it and feed it regardless, and this film pays its respects to those that dare to dream in complete Technicolor landscapes and rich melodies without apology. I couldn't help but find myself catching my breath, since I'm one of those doomed fools. 

Lastly, I have to mention the most amazing shot I have seen in a film in a long time, and I could watch it over and over again: the acrobat doing a full twisting back flip into a pool at a fancy party. That. Was. Amazing. It seems to capture the feeling of the whole film: the exuberance, the color, the motion, the danger, the triumph, the precision, everything. And if you don't care about the love story, at least watch it for this shot. You won't see another one like it for quite a while.

Or at least until Damien makes another movie.

​I've had this book on my kindle for a couple of years, and finally got around to reading it. It kept popping up when I was buying other books (even though I'd already bought it), so I took that as a hint from the universe that I really should get around to reading it. And I'm glad I did.

First, about the author. I didn't do any extensive research about her, but I did enough to know that this is the only book she has written up till now, and it's been translated into several languages and is a best-seller. Given how difficult it is for authors to ever become known, even with a complete body of work, the fact that this book is so popular is pretty remarkable. So it must be good, right?

One of the first things that struck me about this book was the storytelling structure. It seems to bounce around in time and place in a way that should be jarring, but somehow it hangs together to advance the story in a very unique and magical way, which also serves to strengthen the ethereal tone of the book.

The characters have a magic about them (literally and figuratively), and this feeds into the narrative in a way that builds complexity and wonder. I zipped through the first half of this book, turning every page with excitement about what was going to come next.

However, that was where things started to break down. As amazing and wondrous as the first half was, that was how frustrating and slow and complicated the second half was. The narrative stalled, the characters' motivations became unclear, and there was such a cast of characters, it was difficult to keep up with them and care about what they were doing. 

I'm not going to say this book was awful. It was interesting. And it illustrates how difficult a first book is to write. Starting is easy, finishing is hard. I think this book could have been a lot shorter than it was, and with some clever and ruthless editing, would have been a page turner from beginning to end. It does maintain its sense of wonder throughout the narrative, but I want to care the entire way through. So if it had about 100 pages cut out of it, I think it would have been great. I don't know if this writer is going to write another book, but I sincerely hope that she does. She's got the things that make me want to read a book. The next one, if it ever comes, will surely be amazing. Give it a shot.