We have an exclusive to Facebook clip from Wild Bill, and we wanted to share it with you. In it Liz White’s character bumps into (Wild) Bill at the supermarket. It is as awkward as any moment when you bump into someone you’ve had a drunken rendevouz with!
Looks good. Check out more about Wild Bill here.
Welcome to another edition of SIX OF THE BEST, the semi regular part of BRWC where we fire six questions at lovely people. This time, we talk to Jeanne Bowerman.
Jeanne Veillette Bowerman is the Online Community Manager for ScriptMag.com with a regular column entitled Balls of Steel. She is also a Co-Founder and Moderator of the weekly Twitter screenwriters’ chat, Scriptchat. When not writing, she teaches screenwriting webinars for the Writers Store. A graduate of Cornell University, she’s written several spec scripts, including the adaption of the Pulitzer Prize-winning book, Slavery by Another Name, with its author, Douglas A. Blackmon, former senior national correspondent of The Wall Street Journal.
What are you up to today?
Ah, just the average day in the life of a Twitter Pimp Angel/screenwriter/producer/mother/black belt. Today I worked on funding for our short film, Impasse, as well as secured guest blog spots on some hot sites, painted my toe nails, wrote a Balls of Steel post, took my teen driving, bought milk and turkey, kicked ass in karate, then answered questions for two more interviews. I’ll round out the night with a big margarita.
What films/people have influenced your work?
Every film I’ve watched has influenced me in some way, even the bad ones. Well, except When Peggy Sue Got Married. That’s the only film I ever walked out on. Sweet Jesus, what were they thinking?
As for people, that’s an easier question: Unkscreenwriter, Clive Davies-Frayne, Doug Richardson, and Douglas A. Blackmon. These talented writers have had the greatest impact on my life. But beyond helping me hone my craft, they have been my champions. To have four writers I deeply respect take the time to help me grow has been one of the most humbling experiences. Every writer needs someone to believe in them, and I have four rock stars who have my back. I am one damn, lucky girl. Whether they realize it or not, making them proud motivates me every day. I won’t let their belief in me be in vain.
What are you working on now?
Not much: My short film, Impasse, another rewrite of Slavery by Another Name, an outline of a new script, tweaking my next Writers Store screenwriting webinar, and working as Online Community Manager for ScriptMag.com.
How easy/hard is it to write for you?
Easy. I know I’ll regret saying this someday, but I don’t seem to suffer from writer’s block (knocks furiously on wood). I know myself well enough to know how to dodge it and face my writing fears head on. But what I do find hard is starting a script. Knowing the monumental task ahead of me always stalls me for a few weeks. But once I get someone to give me a Moonstruck slap, I’m good to go.
Any advice for aspiring writers?
If you really want this, it will take you 10 years. If you quit before then, you gave up too soon. In my opinion, it takes 7 or 8 years to really hone your craft and to find your unique writer’s voice, especially in screenwriting. The writer’s voice may come earlier to novelists and bloggers, but it hides pretty deep in scripts. You won’t find it until you have the craft down solid. After that, your work will still take a couple of years to find a champion. Then again, maybe it’s better to not know the odds when you’re starting out. I often wonder if I knew then what I know now if I would have pursued this career. All I know is, if I didn’t write, I’d die. The only way to get through those early years is to need writing like you need air. If you aren’t passionate about it, don’t do it. That’s your #PIMPtipoftheday.
Anything you want to get off your chest right now?
Life is too short to shit on people.
Karma will come back and get you every time.
Pay it forward.
Treat people with respect.
Help others when you can.
Don’t be selfish.
Believe in yourself.
Love yourself.
Be good to yourself.
Don’t expect anyone to fight your battles for you.
Stop repeating unhealthy patterns.
Grow up.
Get rid of people who are pissing on your flame.
Save a life. Adopt a kitten.
Wait. Did I say all that out loud? Oops. But I feel so much better getting that off my chest.
Welcome to the second of a two part post belatedly discussing two of the biggest films at this years Academy Awards. Part one saw me wax lyrical about The Descendants, whilst this part is concerned with my thoughts on the movie that took the lion share of the awards, the oft commended The Artist.
Sometimes having watched a movie, particularly one that you’re aware has been gilded with a layer of dazzling admiration, you find yourself in the slightly alienated, but laughably tenable, position of wondering if you’re the only sane person left or whether your ticket was the only one missing that dropper of LSD required to really ‘get’ the movie. With an endless cavalcade of remakes, reboots, and rip-offs rammed into our faces these days a very pressing question presents itself when considering The Artist; did we really need a remake of a whole chapter of cinematic history, especially one that does it with no more than a superficial nod in its general direction?
It’s not that The Artist is irreverent to its source material but it just recycles it in an overly reductive manner, taking the rich and sometimes under appreciated (at least by a modern cinema audience) history of silent cinema and the transition to ‘talkies’ to tell us a story that has been told many times before and better, from Singin’ in the Rain to Sunset Boulevard. The scenario is fairly simple, set in Hollywood in 1927 George Valentin (played by Jean Dujardin) is a highly successful silent film star whose career stagnates and then combusts upon the introduction of sound to movies. Concurrently to this story we have the subsequent rise to fame of Peppy Miller (played by Bèrènice Bejo) who started her career as a result of a mishap with Valentin on the red carpet in a scene that, given the ridiculous success of this movie, seems like a self-fulfilling prophecy.
To produce a movie, such as The Artist, in black and white and adhering to silent movie conventions, complete with intertitles for dialogue and a constant musical accompaniment, is a gimmick. There’s a reason that cinema transitioned to include sound in the late 1920’s. Don’t get me wrong, I’m perfectly happy with silent cinema, or films without dialogue and indeed successful cinema is often about what you don’t show, or don’t say. However this movie, which is shot – it’s framing, it’s acting, it’s sets et al – in every way as if it were made in the 1920’s doesn’t come across as homage but rather as redundant. The single highlight to the contrary being the nightmare scene in which the movie breaks it’s silent film rules to create a world in which there is sound, objects make sounds when interacted with and people have voices, all except for George Valentin. That scene succeeds in being remarkable and was the first time I was interested, but from there it just returns to it’s festival of cliches, overly romanticised nonsense, and shots of a cute dog.
Because the movie is silent the actors have (hopefully intentionally) overacted most of the scenes, an effect which becomes quite tiring to watch, as if the mantra ‘actions speak louder than words’ were being repeated to them in between takes. Apart from the two leads quite a few recognisable faces turn up; James Cromwell, John Goodman, Missi Pyle and Malcolm McDowell appear at various junctures only serving to remind us that we’ve seen them in better things. There’s some beautiful cinematography by Guillaume Schiffman and that’s, ironically, the Oscar that it would have deserved to win but didn’t.
In the onslaught of repackaged and repurposed cinema The Artist differs in only one way; it decided to go further back in order to ransack and pillage for it’s motivation. It’s not that this film is bad, I mean it’s not great, but more importantly it’s just irrelevant. It’s baffling success is endemic of a bizarre trend of overreaction from media outlets, one which can be evidenced in reverse by the recent critical bulldozing received by John Carter. Whilst that film was by no means perfect, it isn’t deserving of the bashing it’s received, similarly The Artist isn’t deserving of the monolithic pedestal on which it has been placed.
It calls into the question the long arguable merit of The Academy Awards as a relevant reflection of the years best movie achievements. The movie that sweeps the board is often not necessarily the best work of cinema, the most successful, or the most loved, on the nomination list but the one that had the most backing in terms of Hollywood politics. The one that was campaigned for the most fiercely. Perhaps I’m wrong, everyone seems to love this film, it has near universal acclaim from everyone who’s reviewed it… But surely I can’t be the only one that was indifferent towards it and just wondered what all the fuss was about?
To paraphrase Jeff Goldblum in Jurassic Park; they were so preoccupied with whether they could make The Artist that they didn’t stop to think if they should.
Well if Alice in Wonderland hadn’t already shown me the whole Tim Burton/Johnny Depp/Helena Bonham Carter match up had lost it’s luster THIS sure as shit did!
WHERE IS MY DYNASTY BY WAY OF TENNESSEE WILLIAMS WITH VAMPIRES?!?!?!
And, why pray tell do all remakes of mostly serious (if infected by the camp inherent in the time of their own making) TV Shows have to be turned into farce? The dull as dishwater Starsky and Hutch, the hideous looking 21 Jump Street, etc.
The only one that worked were the Charlie’s Angels films and well I mean, three hot chicks making quips, sex puns and fighting crime is always gonna be that… Well, cept for that horrendous update they did for TV a little while back… *shudder*
When I heard Tim Burton and Johnny Depp were doing Dark Shadows I said to myself “Finally, they’re going back to doing something dark, brooding and meaningful.” Instead, at least from the trailer, we’re getting a PAINFULLY unfunny, fish out of water comedy that has precious little-to-nothing to do with the original shows dark, quirky, sincere, melodrama and HORROR.
Also, can Johnny act anymore? Same exact voice from Sweeney Todd. 75% Similarity in look and mannerism to his version of Wonka. Are we bored Johnny? $60 Million paychecks not enough to turn out the A-Game for anymore?
And, Tim? TIM! I mean… Why do all your excessively excessively expensive films look so cheap, flat and uninteresting as of late? Hrm? Are you bored too? Making too much money? Spending too much time with the Mouse? Write something original again for gods sake and lay off the glossy sheen.
As with Alice, Helena Bonham Carter LOOKS to be the one thing approaching decency in the film, seeming as if she wandered in from the set of a John Waters movie, but even she seems indifferent to the whole affair on the whole.
Looks like garbage. Sounds like garbage. Appears to have nothing to do with the spirit of Dark Shadows the show… I’m pissed. I thought Tim and Johnny were fans.
What show were they watching… Perfect Strangers?
