In Case of Blizzard, Do Nothing (Or Catch Up On your Blog)

"A snowstorm rewards indolence and punishes go-getters, which is why it's the best natural disaster there is."
-David Dudley, Op-Ed NY Times, 1/23/16

First, a mea culpa.

A few months ago, after a fascinating co-production with an Indonesian company, I started writing about that effort. Then, I got caught up in so much that I found it hard to keep up this blog. I'm going to use this post to get my devoted readers up to date.

Most of my long-time readers know that I try to avoid short, journal-like posts and trend toward more well thought-out articles. Those take some rewriting and reflection, and while I hate to have left these pages empty this last month and a half or so, I'd rather try to offer somewhat interesting and hopefully enlightening and entertaining posts.

Catching up. Here goes.

I will continue the series on Letters For Raisa, the Indonesian film that I understand may be released in Indonesia in February. A trailer is linked below. (A good opportunity to bone up on your Indonesian)



That production, and the insanely good people I was blessed to work with here and from Indonesia, reignited a love for production that had grown dim from what is often the drudgery of low budget filmmaking.

It was then I decided to expand my production services company, Fire Lotus Entertainment, and open up an office in Midtown Manhattan. Working with other production partners, in addition to the production office and my services line producing, I can now put people together with just about any gear, as well as production insurance. If they have the script and the money, we can make it happen.

With help from a talented producing partner, my website, firelotusentertainment.com, was launched in late November. It would not have happened without help from Leigh at Human Storyteller, NYC (follow that link to look at her amazing work!).

As with any effort, it has had it's fits and starts. A very good project, Karma, that is in development and was slated to start production in February is on hold. As usual, funding issues.

I also have been talking with a talented actress, Maria Soccor who made her directorial debut in a big way with a documentary called Lords of BSV. It is about a form of dance born in Brooklyn that many may not know about, and so much more. I'd like to list all of the awards it has won (you can see them on the site) but that would be an article in itself. I have seen it twice. It's truly inspirational to see how, from the roughest conditions, the jewel of creativity emerges. Reminds me of the Fire Lotus, after which my company is named, which grows in the bottom of ponds.

As the zen saying goes: "The Lotus flowers roots are sunk in soot and debris, in fact, the very stuff of our lives." Much like the gorgeous flowers produced there, Lords of BSV is a real treasure. Follow the link to it above to learn more.

Finally, a fascinating project came my way. On Letters for Raisa, a prolific producer and line producer I have known for years and had the pleasure of working for, Aliki, offered to come on as Production Supervisor. I wondered how two line producers would work together, or whether she would be comfortable working for another producer. My fears left on day one, and her graciousness and generosity made it a fantastic experience.

In December, another talented producer and line producer, Nicky, was looking for a location manager. As we were discussing people that I knew, she mentioned that she was also looking for a PM. I offered my services, and she was good enough to bring me on.

I am on what should be Shoot Day 7 of Tokyo NY, a film written and directed by Naghmeh Shirkhan, whose first feature, The Neighbor, was so well-done. Alas, we are in the middle of one of the biggest blizzards in NY history. Today was to be our first major day of exteriors, and the weather is so bad we cannot even shoot interiors. Alas, on film, Murphy's Law truly does rule.

I have tried to be as much an aide to Nicky as Aliki was to me. The thing about putting two talented line producers together is it is like bringing two master chefs together: they can create some new, amazing dishes, but running the kitchen can be awkward at first. We've both made adjustments to how we work, and I am thoroughly enjoying it and thankful for the opportunity to work on what I know will be a unique and fascinating project. Again, more detail on that as we move forward.

Much of the film is in Japanese (with some amazing Japanese performers). After the Indonesian film, and now this, my office manager and receptionist at my office suite asked if I did mostly Asian movies. No, Martina, it just seems that way.

Right now, I am talking to one playwright about adapting a work of his I love for the screen, another playwright about introducing him to some Broadway producers I know, Maria about her next documentary, and, just this morning, with a novelist about adapting her work, all while trying to keep the wheels rolling smoothly on our production's train and listening for Winter Weather Advisories to see how we will (or won't) be able to film tomorrow.

Here I offer my promise to try to catch up on Raisa's story and move forward about the rest in a more timely manner. Thanks for your patience.

In the meantime, some advice from the brilliant David Dudley article quoted in the headline:

"The Snow Gods reserve special contempt for those who don't respect their ability to bring human activity to a standstill. The snow cares not for your deadlines, your happy hour plans, your scheduled C-section (or your Call Time - mine). It wants only to fall on the ground and lie there. And it wants you to, too."

The Passion Project

"Really, Dr. McCoy, you  must learn to govern your passions. They will be your undoing."

-The Wisdom of Spock (Star Trek II - The Wrath of Khan)

Sometimes doing budgets is just work, with not a lot of concern for whether the projects get made. Other times, I become attached to projects.

Years ago, I read a script by Dan Lauria (probably best known for his work as the dad on "The Wonder Years," though he has done other cool work.) I won't say what it was about (hopefully he gets it made one day), but it was written for an famous actor friend of his, and it was brilliant. I did the budget for this script, and really wanted to see it made; alas, it was not. Years later, when I met him, I had the pleasure of telling him how much I enjoyed the script.

Much like foster parents, it is probably better when I do not become too attached to projects that I budget, but, inevitably, if the people making it are nice, I do. I hate to see the pain and heart-ache that goes with putting years of your life into getting a project you believe in made, and paying people like me to help get the funds raised, and then not seeing it ever get to the screen.

My skills are in knowing how to make the best use of the dollars you raise, and how to get that money on screen. As I stated in the last post, raising the money has never been a strong point for me.

Four of the budgets I am currently working on are from filmmakers coming back with the project for a second time. To be clear, I do not charge folks for slight alterations - these are people who have rewritten and rethought their project - often more than once, and often at different budget levels.

One paid me to put one of three different potential budgets for him in a completely different template, even after I tried to discourage him (from having to do it, and from paying me to do so), because, well, it needed to be done for a specific investor.  Anyone who has dealt with budgets knows how tedious and exasperating this can be; on one budget, for instance, craft service might be under "set  operations," on another, under "location." Matching all of these up is tedious; hence my need to charge again.

Two of the scripts are based on true, heart-breaking stories.

It's probably why I get annoyed when I see folks doing no-budgets say their project is a "passion project," and thus, somehow more worthy, and professionals should work on it for free.

These folks who are trying to raise money for their films are every bit as passionate about their project, let me assure you. The project my partners and I did took years of us setting money aside from mind-numbingly boring projects to fund, and we took two years to develop the script.

Folks who were dear friends of mine spent almost five years before they got to see their dream project done,  spending the money he made from editing to continue in development. When it finally got done, it was re-thought for a smaller budget than we originally planned but, as with the film my partners and I produced, everyone we brought aboard was paid.

When I see the sacrifices made by people at all levels to get their project made - including a director who was ready to mortgage his house to finish a film - I take offense at folks who are ready to shoot their film the second they type FADE OUT and expect other professionals to donate their time and sometimes equipment to make it happen.

Let me be clear: you want to make your film with your buddies and your collective equipment, go for it. You want to spend time collecting resources such as locations, trading favors, etc., I wish you the best and will even offer free advice.

What bothers me is the tone of those who choose to use the term "passion project", the suggestion that because you are willing to not make a profit on the project, complete strangers who you solicit online should jump on-board.

Your script is special? As I said, I have read incredible scripts that did not make it to the screen, some with name attachments. Note that none of the folks I am talking about were shooting for the stars - the budgets ranged from the very high at $16M, to the low at $200K. Most fell in the range of the SAG LOW or Modified Low, $625K and up, so these folks were not poised to get rich on these films.

Lack of budget does not suggest more passion; Plaster was only one project I did where an inexperienced director on a low-budget project was not willing to put the work necessary into doing the job right. The opposite is also true; just because you have a lot of resources, it doesn't suggest a lack of passion. Coppolla's decades dedicated to the Apocalypse Now story certainly was not motivated by money. I knew some people who worked on Redux, and they said his determination to get the story told "right" bordered on manic.

Look, I know there are people who go into this business to get rich, but, for the most part, they fall by the wayside. At every level, making movies is hard work, and, at the financial level, unless you have a cushy studio job, your "success" is only as real as your last box office.

This is not to suggest that you don't require passion from the folks you bring on board. With any of the "Key Creatives (there are certainly other creative crew people)" - DP, production design, costume design, editor - I want to know on a low-budget project that they really feel they can bring something special to the project, that it speaks to them in some way that will hopefully translate on screen.

Beyond that, I find that most other below-the-line  crew bring a passion as well. While the Best Boy Grip might not be excited about your script (most likely he didn't read it, and he doesn't need to), those who toil in these positions bring a different passion - pride in their work. I've seen that passion on the face of a grip who successfully levels track over difficult terrain, or an AC who nails a focus pull.

Most of us bring passion to our work; especially on the low-budget indie level, no one in their right mind is just doing this for the money, so when you say your project is a passion project, truly, I have no idea what you mean.

Any project worth doing has passion. I have no idea of knowing what karma you may or may not have accumulated, and I don't know what the Universe owes you, but I am pretty sure it does not owe you a movie, just as I'm pretty sure it doesn't owe me a movie. What is good advice for directors and screenwriters is also good advice in looking for collaborators; don't tell me about your passion, show me.

Hurricane Karma

I was working on Opposites Oppose (for those who missed Part 1) but thought it important to post this timely blog on the devastation that is Hurricane Sandy, as it affects me and my fellow New Yorkers.

I live in an Evacuation Zone A, which means I should have gotten the Hell out when they said to do so on Sunday. Like many others, I thought, sure, it will be a little rough, but I'll gut it out.

My only personal experience of living through a hurricane in the eye of a storm was in Miami in 1999. I can't say what hurricane it was, but know it was a doozy.

I was staying in South Beach shooting an insane movie with Luther Campbell of 2 Live Crew. the details will come later.

On the night of the Hurricane, my hotel in South Beach lost cable - yeah, not the worst thing in the world, but my NY Mets were in the playoffs, and fellow Mets' fans will tell you that it hasn't happened often enough for us to miss. Myself and two other NYers on staff convinced a cab driver who was as crazy as we were to drive us across the bridge into Miami to watch the game at a pub.

We had to hold onto each other to get to the cab, then do the same at the bar. We found an equally common-sense-challenged driver to take us home. The worst of it was going - as the wind pushed us around as we crossed the bridge, and the rain was so hard we couldn't see out the windows. All that saved us is that no one else was stupid enough to be coming the other way.

Earlier that day, the office staff had asked to go home to the other side of the bridge for a day or so during the storm. The line producer, and not the human being, kicked in, and I told them we had so much to do before shooting began later that week that I really needed them to stay.

When the production coordinator pointed out that it was unsafe, I told them I would make arrangements to put them up at the hotel. the APOC (Assistant Production Office Coordinator) said, "JB, we would rather be at home, with our partners and family (I'm paraphrasing)."

"Dorothy wanted to go home, too," I said, "but she took care of what she had to do first."

I thought it very clever at the time; the office staff was less impressed with my wit. After realizing that we were going to not get much done as we were discussing this rather than working, I let them go home early, with all the "kindness" of Scrooge.

CUT TO: Me in my apartment this past Monday night. I had bought all the provisions I would need in case I could not get out a few days, and was prepared. Power was shut earlier in the afternoon, but I was ready with battery-operated lights and more than enough food and wine.

I took it lightly until the wind and the storm surge came. The building literally shook, at first from the wind, I thought, but that was not the case. I looked out the window and saw what literally (yes, it's Joe Biden time) looked like a river rushing down my street. The tree in front of my house split and fell into the middle of the street, thankfully not into my apartment.

Over the next few hours, I watched as the water got higher and higher, rising to at least five feet and just about reaching the first floor landing.

I was seriously rethinking my decision to stay, but at this point, even if I got through to 911, they weren't going to send that needed boat to rescue the idiot who failed to heed the warnings. I was reminded of this wonderful episode of West Wing, and the master actor, Karl Malden.

http://youtu.be/-RzF-Wg2g-k

(Youtube does not allow embedding of this clip - if you cannot see it from the link above, just go to Youtube and search "West Wing Karl Malden". If you haven't seen it, it's both a great message and a great performance.)

I had heard all the reports, and prepared a go-bag in case the worst happened. Still not too sharp, my biggest concerns were a) I can't swim, b) I'm afraid of heights, if they were to do a helicopter rescue (yeah, THAT was gonna happen) and c) how do I keep my laptop from getting wet if I am saved. It has all of my budgets and work on it (though some is backed up to cloud).

My concerns were not necessarily in that order.

As I am writing this, I made it through. I was amazed at how calm everything was in the morning; just a slight breeze and clearing skies. Could this really be that much different than just twelve hours earlier? I looked out my window, and the water had completely receded. I had made it through, but would be lying if I said I wasn't scared.

My power has been out all week, and getting around is insane. Still, I have nothing but thanks, as so many others have lost so much in this storm. I broke my heart to see all or people's lives on the sidewalk as I walked to the nearest bus on Wednesday. Although there were things of greater value out, it was the toys that made me the saddest.

Sad children have always been the thing that literally brings me to tears. Maybe as an adult, I figure we get what we deserve, for better or worse. How do you tell a kid he can't play with his beloved toys anymore? After all, the kid must think, I've done nothing wrong. Why am I being punished?

If that seems trivial, it's still what my thoughts were.

During the worst of the storm that night, I thought about my thoughtless response to my office staff so many years ago. Maybe this wasn't Hurricane Sandy, but Hurricane Karma.

As a practicing Zen Buddhist for many years, I don't see karma as some sort of tit-for-tat, some scorecard where good and bad deeds are tallied, and something is sent out to you for each.

It stems from the Buddhist belief that makes the most sense to me, that I think of with every breath as I mediate, as I follow that breath in and out.

Separation is an illusion.

There is no "us" and "them," no "me" and "thee." That breath I take in is part of all of existence, and when I let that breath go, I share it. We are a part of everything, and everything is a part of us. With that being the case, how could our actions not affect us? We are contributing - or taking - from the same well.

Hey, I'm no monk. I can only express it as I see it. Every time I talk about my relation to Zen, I feel there is Buddhist scholar somewhere cringing because I got it wrong. Sorry, but that's all I got.

Next time, I'm sure my answer to the office staff would be different. Without a doubt, the image of that rushing water outside my building will come rushing back. Age takes away many things, but it should at least leave us with perspective.

I thought it more important to get this message out, so deep are my feelings for all those affected right now. I write this from the apartment of a dear friend and excellent camera woman, who has generously offered her place while she is away. Her flatmate kindly had sheets and even DVDs to watch as I arrived, this woman who does not even know me extending what comfort she could.

I know back by my apartment, and throughout the city and beyond, many others are not as fortunate. If this reaches one single-minded person somewhere, who thinks that whatever their occupation may be is more important than people's lives, and makes them think again, then I am happy that I wrote it.

As my email signature says, from dharma combat*, May Your Life Go well.



*For the sake of simplicity, I have chosen to link the Wiki explanation of Dharma Combat. Another example is linked here. I took part in this at my Zendo more than once, and it's a truly charged experience. Basically, it's an exchange between student and master, between masters, or, as my Zendo practiced it, also between students. At the end, we use the phrase "May your life go well." I always loved that as a way of ending any communication - so simple and yet says so much.