Piggy - my short film.

Hurrah for technology. So I finally realized how (after 3 to 4 years) to put my Short film "Piggy" up online for the world to see. So please see it and feel free to spread it around.

"Piggy" - short film
Lower East Side Film Festival, NYC 2006
Directors Guild of America Screening, LA 2005
Big Screen Festival, Chicago 2004
(2w/1m/1kid) A bittersweet fantasy about the inner world of Audrey, an eight year old. As a means to deal with the world around her, Audrey gives her piggy bank a personality and life of its own. 8mins

ZANDELLE LIVE!

This is GT in all his metal glory singing with his band Zandelle at the Sword Brothers festival in Germany.... oh yea... I know... I know... I live with a rock star... and he reminds me of it every day... oy.. well enjoy and happy holidays!

I Got Friends in Old Places

So I got a three min call from GT yesterday telling me he has tuns of stories to tell from his travels in Germany with his band. I was like 'You have been there a day and a half. What could have happened?' 'Oh tuns' he informs me. When you have a nine hour layover, only to catch a one hour flight, in notorious Amsterdam, you're bound to get into trouble (especially if you are the boys in Zandelle. ) These crazy kids unsupervised?! I'm surprised they ever made it to their connecting flight. Though I'm told they did just barley... something to do with a muffin and pure goodness if you know what I mean.

But enough about GT and the gang and all his debauchery (no fare!). I remained in Brooklyn slaving away in the apartment, well sort of, I did until yesterday. Apparently Friday is a good catch up day for everyone. First on the list was HR. We had a brief lunch and our waitress was L, an aspiring actor I worked with in a show and is friends with HR's friends. We enjoyed talk of cannoli's and actors who like to smell their own farts. 

Two PM rolled around and it was LB time. A friend I made when I went on the birthright trip to Israel. Yes, I have been in a plane for 13 hours to get a free 10 day trip to the mother land. That's as Jewish as I will ever get. It's like when you get to stay at a time share for free. You have to sit in presentations trying to get you to buy. Well, I ain't buying a home in Israel or any of Jewish mombo jumbo they were selling. But thanks for the free food, bed and memories I already forgot. 

Hours to waste before meeting up with old upper east side roommates LM and CO. I wondered the city happily noting that the Christmas frenzy seemed pretty tamed. Then I wondered should I be buying people gifts? Then I thought 'not unless I rob one of these pathetic tourist' otherwise I ain't got the doe-ray-me. SO I opted on window shopping. Of course I couldn't help but find my way into my favorite store The drama Book shop in 40th and 8th. I spent 30 bucks on two anthologies of plays. (Bad Hollie!) 

In Starbucks for the second time that day LM meets me and we find our way to Mo's Caribbean. Crowded of course. So we wondered to 3ave and ended choosing some old people's restaurant that resembled the many pubs I just left behind. We picked it because of the lobster special. Yes the girl with no money ate lobster for dinner. Which means I can't go out for the rest of the month. And yes I did whip myself good in penitence for my crimes... but it was sooo good. Clearly the only person getting gifts from me this year is... well... me. But at least I don't expect to get any so I don't feel so guilty about not giving.

After dinner the three of us skipped down to 14th in hopes of seeing the movie Enchanted. No luck. So LM and I determined to see it skipped over to 19th then the too the two on 23 st and then to 34th. NO luck! We just missed the movie time at every one of them. Times like these when I think why do I not have a fancy IPhone or something? But hoping around my favorite city is always an adventure in itself. It may not be Amsterdam, the only thing in my Muffin was chocolate chips, there may have been hookers but they weren't on display in the windows I browsed in (just their clothes) however I won't want to be anywhere else. 

(Did I mention I'm going to Paris the day I get back to London? Oh the trouble I can get into there!)

The Invasion

Trapped in the kitchen with the bedroom furniture? Yeup just another day in the life of  reality home make over... we now have carpet, painted walls, and clean furniture... yey! 

Did I mention the walk in closet and home office? I think I just did. Even a toy room for GT, who is right now flying to Germany with his band to play a few gigs. Those boys let loose on the world...? I think I'll apologize right now Germany for whatever evils and or wild antics these boys will no doubt cause. 

Make Over

If I wanted to clean the bathroom I wouldn't have bought a new one. You know? If it's your job to build something new wouldn't you make it clean for the clients before you leave? Why build a new bathroom and leave it dirty? I scrubbed the tub and still the gunk wont come off. A brand new, never used, tub and these guys shat dirt in it.

The rest of the home make over is going well. Just waiting for carpet so we can finish up the bedroom/living room. We called a guy but he's a flake like so many guys with a van are. I mean who can you trust if not a sketch ball with a large white utility van? What is this world coming too? Which forces us to use 1800 carpet or some other big corporate machine. I like to help out the small business guy but sometimes it's more of a headache.

Still four weeks left before London and so much work still to do here. Maybe I'll be too busy to go back? No. No. Bad Hollie. Must think about the final result. Both in home design and school. All for a better life... or so I keep telling myself. Okay time for a second coat of paint on the radiator (in the bathroom of course, G-d forbid they put in a new one.)

Brooklyn Love

Well, my hands are covered in all colors of paint. The bedroom is done, closet and living room in progress. The bathroom is still out of order as it was gutted and being slowly put back together, new tiles, tub, toilet the works! 

This of course means we have to use GT's mother bathroom in her apt down stairs. A little old Greek lady who takes delight in talking to me in in her native tongue and watching my face contort in confusion. Imagine those old school women who came off the boat decades ago but remain true to the life they lead in the small village they will never see again. Suddenly you have the heart and soul of Brooklyn.

Slowly I'm making plans with friends to hang out, my finial script for class is done and now more painting. But it feels right to be in Brooklyn, in something that resembles my old life here, minus all the bad parts. Knowing I have to leave it all again in four weeks and head back over the pond to that tiny dorm room and bear the boredom all over again is not comforting. 

I Can Fly

The flight was amazing. Smooth sailing all the way. The only announce with my journey to America was trying to get to the airport! 

I'm sorry London but I hate the tube! I topped up my crapy oyster card online and it makes you nominate a tube stop. I picked Angle thinking what does it really matter? I only use the bus but need the tube to get to the airport. SO I thought I was going to use Angle station but wound up  day of  taking the bus to Kinds Crossing station instead. However I didn't know that the Oyster man is a jerk and made it so if I touch my card at any station other then Angle the money won't show up on it. Of course the little ticket man said nothing he could do nothing but sell me a one way pass. Luckily I had a few pounds on me. Still annoyed because I was gonna miss my flight  I yelled like a mad woman about 'how superior NYC was to you idiots. You put money on a card and it is automatically there. You don't have to travel to one station and touch it to a pad. You can just start using it anywhere.' The costumers in line, all British, rolled their eyes "Go back home," I saw written on their face. 'I am trying to you assholes but your city won't let me.'

 

Lets just say there was many more announces to come and what should have been a 1hour and 30 min journey took me 3 hours to get to the airport. After arriving at the the wrong terminal, of course, I found my way  check in only to be "randomly" selected for an extensive security check. Umm me? They had me pose me in suggestive ways and took ex-rays of my inners. At least pay for my plane ticket if you are going to digitally rape me Heathrow Security guards. Stumbling around like Shoeless Joe I arrive at my gate with my enormous book bag crushing me. 

Flight delayed. Of f-ing course it is. Seems a Virgin Atlantic machinery got stuck and blocked the BA aircraft from making it to the gate or so the Captain told us before take off, which was an hour late. But that's my only complaint about BA. The staff was very nice, the food really good, the TV entertained me the whole way. Although some of the TV's didn't work and they had to reboot it.

Take off I was really calm. Because I got there so late I was given an isle seat instead of my usual window. This proved to be very healthy for me because I didn't have a panic attack. I sat and enjoyed the whole ride with my two small bottles of red wine that I nursed through out the 7 hour journey. Allowing me to  easily let go of the three hour journey to get there. Letting the excitement of home full fill me. Thinking as I got closer and closer how proud I was of myself to be able to enjoy a plane ride. I mean I took the Queen Mary, a seven day journey, to avoid flying. I've even been known to hop on a 27 hour train ride instead of a 3 hour plane ride from NYC to South Florida, so this was a huge step for me. I did it with out pills, and only a little booze and a lot of brain power. Proving the old adage true: you can do anything you put your mind too (especially when it's only your mind that's stopping you.)

Okay one down more to come. Lets see how well I do... 

How You Doin'

Hey New York baby... how have you been? Yea it's been a really long time. Too long... hey lets say you and I get uh.. better acquainted.... What did I have in mind...? (Whisper, Whisper, Legs Cross, Lady Liberty blushed, Whisper, Whisper...) Oh yea and that's just the beginning....

It's time for a break London

It's been real London but it's time for a break. No... No.... It's not you it's me. I just need to see other cities right now..... Nothing to do with your red buses, hassle tubes, and pubs closing just when normal cities are getting out.... I promise I'll be back after the holidays to entertain you once more but for now lets see other cities.... Who is it? That really is none of your... don't call her a big apple.. oh right. Well I guess she is.... Fine be that way London.... Look I'll call you when I get back but for now just leave me alone.... no... no.... baby I didn't mean it. Okay I love you too.... Please keep Big Ben warm for me.. yeah.. oh shit it's NY on the line.... I have to go.... Bye. I mean cheers.

Q & A with writer Barrie Keeffe

Drunk as a skunk off of one glass of wine (lame I know but) what better way to relay a happening when you’re inherited?

Today we had a Q & A with Barrie Keeffe. I know I keep saying this is the last day of the term, no this is, well this was. I wasn’t mandatory just something special for the first and seconds years to come together and pick a working writers brain.

This particular writer wrote the screenplay to “The Long Good Friday” a cult hit in Britain (so I am told). What was interesting was right off the bat he said he thought himself a playwright, but having written one successful film people identify him as a screenwriter.

He began his career as a novelist and an actor but after being told by some one really famous (at the time) that he was basically no good, he moved on. As a writer he found writing dialogue in novels suited him more so he moved to playwriting and eventually television, radio and film.

What interested me the most was his career spanned so many different mediums; director, actor writer (which is all the type of work I do.) So that in it self was inspiring. He also described the way he works. He has an L shaped desk and keeps other projects he is working on to his side, so that way, when he losses interests in his current project and gets excited about an old one he just goes too it and continues writing more and so on. (Which is how I tend to work.)

Someone in the Q and A said they couldn’t start a script until they have it all mapped out. To me that seems so foreign, it’s all about the journey you have with each script that makes it fun, for me. It would seem by listening to Mr. Keefe he seems to be the same way.

‘Kind of luck sometimes” he said when referring to how he was able to write “Long Good Friday’ in 3 days and get the right funding after a screening in Edinburgh festival and the right actor who came to the audition to keep a friend company and hearing the right bit of dialogue in a pub or a sign on the van leading to the ‘hotdog line’ in the last scene.


From there he segwayed into advice for the beginning screenwriter.
“It’s a collaboration so don’t write it like a novel. What it should do is give the smell of it.” He said with also noting we (the students) should get the script to our favorite film, read it bit by bit and watch the film as we go to see how much description is actually used.

“I’m an ease dropper. I sit at the pub with the Evening Standard but I’m really listening.” - BF

His passion for theater and the actor’s journey really came through when he spoke in our hour and a half session. He writes characters as parts he, as an actor, would want to play. (Hoping to be a young British James Dean back in his time) he was disappointed with the options for actors and began to really make sure that even if he wrote a small part it would be exciting and interesting, a real full person. He mixes in with people he has meet in real life or heard about to help round the characters out.

“I’m not afraid to be a voyeur and leech” BF

His antidotes of teasing reporters/critics and real people to tell a story or to get one were very amusing. When he first sat down I thought goodness that man looks tired. As we began he became alive, blunt, and funny with his stories in screen trade and theater.

“It’s a lonely job.” - BF

Along with witty antidotes about the business he also told us more then once how his passion for writing broke up his first marriage because he wouldn’t take a holiday, he would write from Friday to Sunday, selfishly he said. He repeated his mantra of ‘it’s a lonely job’ over and over. His drive for succeeding as a working writer was evident in his stories of his youth. He made mention of if you are a writer how everyone says they have an idea for you, or if you get something produced they say they could have done better then that, with the all talk and little action notion.

Summing up his advice for the night he let us in on a little secrete when working with actors, “Steer actors in the right direction so when they get it they will think it was their idea.” He told us not to treat actors like puppets. As he is a man who has had his hand in every part of the pot his advice spanned the many mediums he worked in and they were all insightful, unapologetic and actually very helpful.

“I like to be judged on the work over my life time.” When asked about being a beginning writer he made it known that your first script won’t sell and that you will get many rejections. That it is a progression. When you finish one script start another so when you get those rejections it’s okay because you have another project you are excited about. “You have to be cocky.” He told us more then once with his… ‘It a lonely job.” But then with that came… “ Do you know the best two words in the English language are?” ‘The end.’

(I have to say we all went to the pub after and when introduced to him he asked)
BK: What part of America are you from?
Me: Well born and raised in South FL, went to school in Chicago,
then moved to LA, then NYC.
BK: Wow I’m surprised you remained sane after all that.
Me: Who says I did? It’s always the crazy ones that seem the most
sane.
I continued to hold my deadpan expression. Once again I made another memorable and idiotic first impression. He smiled politely, fiddled with some clothe on his jacket and hightailed it to several other students on the opposite end of the pub. I guess he doesn’t need any character research on crazy American’s.

He's making his list and checking it twice...

In a means to celebrate the end of classes we all went to a dog friendly pub close by. It was nice to relax with food, booze and cool people, not to mention the pups roaming around. Especially our own basset hound mascot stealing bits of food from everyone, saying his greetings in a regal but efficient manor of sniffs and bows, as only a British dog can do.

Of course I began to think about the two puppies I get soon. Well, big puppies waiting for me back in Brooklyn, along with GT. Then my mind thinks of all the work I have to do on vacation, which is fine. I’m okay with work and play but it’s the flight I have looming three days from now that has me awake at 3:30am. I can’t get this stupid fear of dying in a plane crash out of my head. I will work it out. I will. Just might need some help with booze and pills. Unfortunately my act now worry later habit prevented me from getting to a doctor that can prescribe me something for my anxiety.

So this is all natural kids. Seven hours of me in terror. I hope by focusing on my tasks I have to do once I land or working on my homework 30,000 feet in the air will help. I don’t know if it’s a fear of dying, fear of heights, fear of a lack of control, or claustrophobia that contributes to this panic but I’m guessing it’s really just the small seats, the bad food, and Flight Attendants that has me a bit edgy. Also just imagining the line at the security checkpoints in Heathrow has my heart palpitating in an unusual rhythm. Well as always I’m sure I will have a story to tell from it.

Cyber cheers kids; hold your glasses high, almost through to the holidays, which will result in a calming of the nerves and fun times for all. (and perhaps a bottle of Xanax from Santa? Come on I’ve been very good this year and only naughty when it counts.)

Act Now, Hope for the Best Later

Today we had a massive class from 11am until 5:30p.m.-ish. (I'm still not getting the whole ‘24 hour clock’ thing, don't think that will catch on for me.) In this extra class we read everyone's original short screenplays. Having heard them all, naturally I wondered what the hell I was thinking when I wrote mine.

Others dealt with murder, elves, Nigeria, massive devastation and mine of course centers around a couple in Brooklyn. How boring and unglamorous can you get?

As I was given notes about my script (not knowing what more to do to it) I thought ‘right I guess the term isn't over just yet’. Bit more re-writing to do before the official turn in date.

Jiminy Cricket, I can't keep this up. I have this script to re-work, a term paper dealing with genre and comparing two films (which I haven’t a clue what to do), a monologue to write about an adult saying something to a child (for next term) List of plays to see in London (but I can't because I can't afford it. It’s either seeing those plays or pay next terms tuition. I had to throw my dorm payment onto a credit card.)

Sometimes my act now and hope for the best later works out, but never until the last moment where nails are being bitten down. I think this time may be one where it may not work out. If I go home in spring I will have lost all that money I invested into my MA. I cannot let that I happen. Somehow I have to find work. I was given an internship at a Literary Agency but that’s not until May and they can only pay 15 pounds per day worked… I think. Which for me isn’t bad since the dollar is so weak any little bit of a pound I can earn is huge. That’s what’s really hurting me, the dollar’s value. The school on it’s own isn’t terribly expensive compared to USA schools, the dorms are normal London costs so if the dollar was equal or just a few cents less then the pound I would have been fine with my first loan. Oh well, such is the timing of my life I suppose. I deferred my acceptance for a year. Had I gone then the exchange rate wouldn’t have been as bad as it is now.