Philly Auditions

Long, long day.
Auditions in Philly.
A bar called Glam
In the car typing -- it's 1:45 a.m.
Had quite a nice turnout... 500 people... Probably less but, one, I am terrible at these sort of things and, two, it was non-stop people.
Suppose I could say it was 3000 people and it'd mean the same.
Doesn't matter...
Pretty impressive audition none the less.
A testament to the fact that so many people yearn to be on reality.
Some genuinely great candidates -- in my opinion, away.
Gil and Dave's production manager Myles Yattese showed up as the crew was wrapping.
Just in time for the meal.
I'd like to say that I've never seen Gil so mad, but the fact is this: I've never seen Gil mad.
This was a first.
Dave, normally the vocal punch of the two, maintained his steam and dealt with Myles.
Myles, said the casting director cancelled at the last minute, a case of food poisoning.
So...
Gil and Dave took over and, I have to say, did quite a great job.
Gil's tech skills came in handy, to be sure... and...
The same is true with Dave's acting skills; Dave has a pretty powerful presence and ran the Q&A without missing a beat.
It was as if it was planned that way.
Funny, that.
Too exhausted to keep ty

What film, in general, needs now is a Punk Rock Attitude

How can energy be injected into film?
Injected without the use of CGI and that type of false ilk.
I just saw a Hollywood blockbuster and, sheesh, what a big 100 million lumbering retarded giant.
I want those two hours of my life back.
I want this film to be utterly real, utterly raw.
I want the energy that punk rock music has.
I want that kind of attitude... (not in subject, but in our attitude, the filmmaker's, that is.)
I feel that at times we're acting in the conventions of what is acceptable documentary, what passes for acceptable filmmaking.
That makes me queasy.
That is something that I simply will not do.
Never.
Now wonder this project has taken longer than, crap, three months.
And, in some respects, I feel like our subjects are so used to us being around that they are simply and only being.
Being themselves.
Being as they are.
It's best when that's what it is...
Only occasionally do I get the feeling that they are changed by us being there.
But mostly Gil and Dave just are.
Mostly, I'm beginning to notice, that they are getting worried that they are over their heads.
Or that they need tutelage.
Or that they need, at the very least, their phone calls answered, there emails responded to.
I don't even know if this makes sense.
I am, for some reason, feeling helpless.
At the mercy of our subjects.
That I can do nothing to drrive the story.
That's the writer in me.
That me being impatient.
That's me tire and angry and kinda hungry.