I just donated to help out New Orleans. You can do the same. Please click one of the links and give what you can. Every little bit helps.
Habitat for Humanity
Red Cross
Humane Society for the US
America's Second Harvest
Thanks.
I just donated to help out New Orleans. You can do the same. Please click one of the links and give what you can. Every little bit helps.
Habitat for Humanity
Red Cross
Humane Society for the US
America's Second Harvest
Thanks.
August 31, 2005 in General Gab | Permalink | Comments (0)
Amy is a former co-worker of mine who is compiling free stuff to do in L.A. Yes, people, free. Visit Cheapstakin' to find out more.
August 30, 2005 in General Gab | Permalink | Comments (0)
Like many people, my partner and I have a film library. We have plenty of videotapes, and A LOT of DVDs. We have close to 80, by last count. A good chunk of these DVDs and tapes are devoted to our obsessions of Buffy the Vampire Slayer (for me), Godzilla (for Tom), and James Bond (both of us). Beyond those, we have collected a great deal of films and TV shows over the years. But, when we buy these DVDs or receive them as gifts, the thought always crosses my mind:
"Will I actually watch this several times over? Will I actually watch [blank] again?"
Well, ladies and germs, I'm here to change that. There's much being made as of late about how box office receipts are down. Well, since there really has been a dearth of good movies out lately and the fact that I'm not working, I'm going to delve into our collection and watch some of the stuff that we have. First on my list? Scream 3. As many of you know, I'm a huge fan of the Scream movies. I find them clever and fun and scary enough. And Scream 3 doesn't disappoint. It's written by Ehren Krueger instead of Kevin Williamson, and the differences are marginal. There are less zingers and one-liners in the final chapter, but there are plenty of post-modern jokes. Some of them are clever (Jenny McCarthy's actress character whines about her character in Stab 3 -- the film within the film -- being killed in her second scene and then she's killed... and it being only her 2nd scene in the movie) and some aren't (Carrie Fisher plays a movie studio file clerk and much is made of how she looks like Carrie Fisher). The great thing about Scream 3 is that the main characters of Sydney, Dewey and Gail still ring true to the other two films. It makes sense for them to be in the positions they are at the beginning of the film, and how they react to what's going on in this one. I love the glossy cinematography, and the acting overall is excellent. (Parker Posey in particular is hilarious) Credit to Wes Craven for consistently bringing good performances out of the three main actors for all three films, even when I find them annoying in other things.
This will be an on-going series here at Jeez Jon. Maybe I'm starting something here. If you're in the mood for a movie and you don't want to go out, why not just watch something you already have? Doesn't that make sense?
August 29, 2005 in At Home Film Festival | Permalink | Comments (0)
Class, settle, settle, please. Your first assignment is to rent the movie Overnight, a documentary about Troy Duffy, a 20-something bartender who sold his script The Boondock Saints to Miramax. Miramax not only brought the never-attended-film-school Duffy in to direct his script but also had his band commissioned to do the soundtrack. From then on, it's like watching a car accident in slow-motion. Duffy does absolutely everything wrong in how to deal with people in Hollywood. He parties like there's no tomorrow, and swears up a storm at people at Miramax and his agents at William Morris(!), and treats everyone around him with disdain and disrespect. He's like Mussolini with a development deal; Idi Amin with A-List representation. Watch this film, and see what regular folks here have to contend with. Wow.
August 23, 2005 in Hollyweird | Permalink | Comments (0)
If you look to your left, you will see part of one of my headshots. It's the main commercial headshot I use. For the uninitiated, this means that my commercial agents were using that as their main picture when submitting me for commercial auditions. They picked it, they loved it, and frankly, I love it too. It's goofy and fun, and very me. Well, I figured something was up when I checked my records and I hadn't been on a commercial audition in over three months. Y'all, I haven't had a dry period like that for commercial auditions since I lived in Chicago. So, after exchanging some phone messages with my commercial agents (and them leaving a very lengthy and heartfelt apology on my answering machine), we're changing tactics. For quirky guys, the market used to dictate being very quirky. Now, the market is looking for slightly quirky. A bit quirky. Un peu de quirk. So, here's one of ones I'm trying out:
Like it? I do. Man, Greg does great work. Go to his site, and look under Men, and you'll see the full photo of my little logo over to the left. Fun, huh? Hopefully the ratcheting down of the quirk will result in some commercial auditions. I have been averaging one theatrical (that's TV/film, in LA-Biz-talk) audition a week for the past month or so. I read for my first big studio film this week -- a comedy... and really don't want to say any more than that. Anyhow, my audition rocked. The casting director said "That was perfect. Thanks!" I know they say these things in order to get you out of the room so they can get the other actors in, but I'll take praise in whatever form I can get it. So, cross fingers, guys. I know I am.
August 20, 2005 in General Gab | Permalink | Comments (0)
Madonna had a bad horseriding accident on her 47th. Youch. I hope she gets better soon. And I'll leave the "getting back on the horse"/her-infamous-love-life jokes to the professionals.
August 16, 2005 in General Gab | Permalink | Comments (0)
A few Saturdays ago, my partner Tom and I went to a friend's birthday party. Let's call the friend Rex for the time being. Rex is an immigrant from the Carribean who possesses what I call "The Gift." No, not this kind of gift. Rex has the ability to schmooz and talk up anyone. He's a hustler in the truest meaning of the word. A lot of the wheeling and dealing in this town deals with this quality, and Rex has that innate ability to know the right thing to say to the right person at the right time. But, like the rest of us, he's on the periphery of the biz - eking out an existence without making it big.
Rex is pushing 40, so it struck us odd that he was going to share his birthday with some girl we've never met named Natasha. Rex knows an interesting set of people, so the fact that this Natasha girl is alien to Tom and I isn't new; I just figured shared birthday parties went out in high school, but whatever. Tom and I fly down to the West Side to the Brazilian restaurant where the party was going to take place. We stop on the way to pick up a gift bag, a card, a gift, and a pen with which to write on the card, and we make it only about 10 minutes late. This is a hole-in-the-wall place that I usually love, but there is something in the air that I'm just not digging. And the place got a B. Anyway, Tom and I arrive and we meet Natasha. She's the 21-year-old (!) fiancee of Rex's former roommate Pejj (no, that's not a typo). The bulk of the people there are Natasha's friends and friends-of-friends. And they are all in their early 20's, clad in Eurotrash knock-off clothes, bling, and attitude. We end up sitting at a collection of small tables that the restaurant has cobbled together to form (a la Vultron) one big table. Rex is sitting in the middle, and we end up sitting way towards the end, surrounded by Natasha's unfriendly and rather surly friends. Greeeaaaaattt.
Me: Tom, we're getting a separate check.
Tom: Oh yeah.
We wave down the only waitress around 7:30 and place our order. Remember this time.
Tom and I introduce ourselves to Natasha's friends, and in typical LA fashion, they show little interest in anyone else but themselves. Well, maybe they just lack the social skills to look outside of themselves for any length of time.
Surly Tool: So... um... did you guys just graduate or something?
Tom: What? We're [indicating he and myself] in our 30's.
Surly Tool: Oh.
ST#1's friend was a guy from Canada who barely spoke at all. The only one with a bit of life in the group that sat right by us was Drunk Nordstrom's Girl, who was somewhat bubbly when she wasn't getting small bottles of rum out of her purse and pouring it into her Diet Coke. I ask them about where they're going to school, and they mention it and quickly forget what they said. People usually love to talk about themselves and what they do -- this trait I rely on heavily when I'm meeting new people. This lot? They mention they go to school, mumble their majors, and then go back to talking to each other.
About 8:00 rolls around and the party has now grown to about 40 some people. And there's one waitress. No food yet. Tom and I exchange pained looks. None of our mutual friends with Rex have shown up. More and more surly Eurotrash Hollywood wannabes arrive. Errgh. Tom and I are introduced to Rex's friend British Tom. He's good-looking in a pasty, worn sort of British way. He actually makes the leap to engage us in conversation, and I breathe a sigh of relief... which turns out being shortlived. British Tom goes on and on about how he's been writing and how he has financing connections in Australia to potentially make his movie, yadda yadda yadda.
At 8:30ish, Tom and I get our appetizers. We snarf them down, and offer them to the other starving people sitting around us. British Tom starts going into his acting career.
British Tom: Well, I've only been out on 5 commercial auditions in the past 4 1/2 months and I've booked only two of them. One of them is going to be a huge [DVD Rental Service] spot I shot 3 weeks ago. But, I don't know, I'm thinking about getting a new commercial agent.
Me: Well, your booking ratio of 2 jobs out of 5 auditions is really good.
British Tom [haughtily]: I thought it was pretty awful.
Me: Nooooo.... it's good. Especially the money that'll be coming in from [DVD Rental Service] spot.
British Tom: So, when should I be getting the money?
Me: Well, you'll be getting your session fee [pay for the actual shoot] in about a week or two. The residuals come in on a quarterly basis.
British Tom: WHAT? I'm not going to be getting all that money right away?!
Me: Well, no, it doesn't work that way.
My Tom and I exchange a look and inside I simultaneously cry and laugh a little.
British Tom: Well, at any rate, they aren't sending me out enough. I mean, that just isn't enough auditions.
Me: Lemme ask you something. Are your headshots black & white or color?
British Tom: Black & White.
Me: Ahh. That's why.
As early as a few years ago, this was the process of how an actor was submitted for a commercial job. A casting director would put out a list of characters for the project they were working on, called a breakdown. Agents would then look at their clients and then messenger over a stack of client headshots to the casting director for them to go through. And everyone used black and white pictures 'cause... well, it's what people did. Not anymore -- everything's digital. Casting directors now put their breakdowns out through a series of websites, and the agents then e-mail headshots and resumes to casting directors. Since casting directors are now looking at postage stamp size headshots on a computer screen, black & white pictures don't pop anymore, so everyone's moving to color. All commercials in L.A. are now working like this, and more and more TV & Film projects. I explain this to British Tom, and how I have a great photographer he can use.
British Tom: How much does he charge?
Me: He's about $350 for about 370-some pictures.
British Tom: Oh! OH! I don't know if I can justify the EXPENSE.
And at the moment, I rolled my eyes, and did my best to keep quiet. Asshole, it's YOUR FUCKING CAREER. Things have changed. New headshots are a BUSINESS EXPENSE -- write them off. He's an example of the typical Hollywood pseudoplayer -- loves the idea of doing all the glamorous Hollywood things, but actually balks at the realities of doing a career here. This town is full of him, in male and female forms, and I try to avoid all of them. I half-heartedly try to explain this to him, and then he excuses himself to go flirt with some girls at the bar.
At 9:10, after half of the people around us are almost done with their entrees, our food arrives. My fries? Cold. My steak? Lukewarm. The waitress argues with Tom, saying he didn't order the vegetarian plate when he did. She finally acquiesces. Now, here's another thing that's really chafing my hide. The service is horrible. Yes, we're a large party taking up a majority of the tables in the restaurant. But, it's Saturday night. If we weren't there, shouldn't they be expecting/hoping the tables to be full since it's the busiest night of the week for the restaurant business? Tom and I chow through our food so we can leave.
I get our check, and with the pen given to me to sign my credit card receipt, I take one of the cocktail napkins and write down my photographer's name and website address to give to British Tom. As we're leaving, I swing by British Tom and give him the napkin, explaining who's on it.
British Tom [with two girls wearing knocked off Dolce & Gabbana in tow]: Oh. [He sniffs the napkin] These napkins here are so smelly, so chemical-ly. I don't know; I don't think this photographer is going to be any good. [sniffs napkin] I'm going to have the association of smelly napkin-smelly photographer.
WHAT THE FUCK? Asshole, I'm trying to help you out. I really like Rex a lot, so I'm trying to do you a solid 'cause of him, and you go shitting all over the nice thing I'm trying to do for you. I didn't HAVE TO do this, I didn't HAVE TO be nice to you, I didn't HAVE TO do you a favor. If you don't want this, just fucking say so. Well, this was all interior monologue. I just merely look at him and said this:
Me: You go to his website, you look at his pictures. You tell ME if they're smelly.
His arm candy laughs and giggles at my comment, and Tom and I leave. The highlight of the whole night was Tom and I watching a rerun of SNL. I can tell you one thing: I'm never going back to that restaurant ever again.
August 11, 2005 in Hollyweird | Permalink | Comments (2)
So, if you guys haven't caught My Life On The D-List on Bravo yet, you should. I personally find Kathy Griffin to be hysterical. She's a very endearing mix of in-your-face brashness and numbing-insecurity that seems to run through a lot of people who life here in La-La Town. It also helps that we went to the same high school... though she was there several years before I was.
Check it out. More Hollywood wannabe anecdotes tomorrow.
August 10, 2005 in General Gab | Permalink | Comments (0)
Welcome, one and all, to my new digs here at typepad. They're cool enough to have me, and I'm happy to have them.
I've taken a turn, y'all, and I'm not accepting anyting less than my best from now on. I had a workshop with a casting associate on some new sitcoms for the fall, and it went very, very well. Couple that with doing an e-mail blast about the extension for my show, a postcard blast for the show, and me going back to the gym, and Jon is in good spirits. But it wasn't always like this...
See, Thursday, I was supposed to have an audition for a recurring role on Jenna Elfman's new sitcom. Not a big part, noting major -- hell, the character didn't even have a name -- but it would have been recurring, and that would have been my first. Why am I speaking in past-tense-imperfect-for-Jon's-ego? My agency called Thursday morning, saying that my audition was off 'cause the network has put the show on hiatus "to work out creative problems". So, as you can imagine, I was bummed... seriously bummed. Now, I wasn't upset, mind you, just bummed. This, like many things in this wacky business, was out of my control. There wasn't anything I could have done to change this, and it's not like I lost the role due to a shitty audition. Stuff like this happens, and you just have to accept it.
Compounding insult to injury, I watched a trailer for the new Orlando Bloom movie, and recognized a guy in the trailer that I did a workshop with 6 freakin' years ago when Tom and I first moved here to Hell-Aye. I then went to imdb.com to look up the cast of the movie and recognized another guy that I was in a class with 5 years ago. Here they are, working with Orlando Bloom and Susan Sarandon and Food Network Star Chef (and one of my guilty pleasures) Paula Dean, and here am I, sitting at home unemployed and not even having had a fucking recurring role in a sitcom under my belt.
So, what to do? Mope? (Done.) A very brief pity party? (Done.) Play video games to therapeutically mash the buttons as I kill aliens? (Done.) But, what really helped? Me putting together a 90 postcard mailing to casting directors with my new serious headshot, publicizing my play being extended. That was the thing that really helped. I had to do something practical, something showing that I just wasn't being one of those pathetic Hollywood A-holes who love to talk and talk and talk about the biz and the industry and name drop but who really don't fucking do a damn thing. Well, I'm doing. And I won't be doing anything less than my best, dammit.
I'll be doing what I can to move all the old entries over here, by the way. I'm just trying to figure out the new digs. It's a challenge -- exactly what I need.
August 08, 2005 in General Gab | Permalink | Comments (3)
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