Unfinished Blog

Unfinished Blog
Originally Riffing off the Iguana (8)

I was taking film classes at LACC in the late 80’s - it was the most punk thing I could think of doing - it meant I did not give a damn what I did with my life, but it sure as hell was not going to be an accountant or lawyer - I wanted a touch of the transformation of light - Now this was before Clerks, before El Marachie and before Sex, Lies and Videotape. Movies where still vastly expensive, technologically complex white elephants that mostly never got made. We had 8mm camera’s (using film!) and just enough sluggishly dark energy to put things on them. In town there was only the two major schools, UCLA they had a bit more art school orientation and USC, where the kids of the established movie elite took classes. LACC was nowhere - fast.

This was the LA City Collage cinema program of my late teenage years, it was before the waiting list, before the movie posters in the main lobby proudly showing off the people who went on to work in “the industry”and won awards, where anyone with 24 bucks a unit and some free time could take a class or two. Pre digital video.
The people who where my classmates reflected the word motley - mostly atari wave gen x city kids my age from Silverlake - pre gentrification, a couple intellectuals, a few foreign students, three middle age people. Two of them stick out - one was named Maggie

Maggie was a 50 something women who was worn, nice and sharp - she was the mother of three who decided that family life - in the universe revolving around my children way was - not her - Texas family life suited her ex husband and she loved her kids but.................her she was taking first year LACC film school where the graffiti on the bathroom points to the toilet paper and says “film school diplomas”

To this day I hear the name Maggie I reflexly think “guts”

The other was Mike - he was a....guy - friendly - weathered and a damn good actor. I wish his personality was the templet we draw adulthood from not the current verbal gassiness that we call passion.

At one point the cinema department decided to showcase the post graduate degree program. At the point of getting your AA degree you two choices, transfer to a four year or make a short film and hope some one would notice. They had a women talk with us who decided on the second approach. She directed a film that was in the last stages of editing.

She was impressive in one sense, she embodied an air of a confident 80’s professional, blonde with glasses and spoke with authority. She must have been in the late 20’s. At the time you wanted to believe - believe that there was a wealth of stories that could be told and seep in your brain - turn your mind around - see things that would change your life o- if only people would fund that vision..

The film ran. It was in rough cut mode.

I saw this guy in a loincloth trouncing around in a militarized SUV, a women fully clothed trying to do something and Griffith Park in the background. The story was the post apocalypse cliché that was true to Glen A. Larson - but without the tacky polish.

It ...

was...

god awful

What film school was is - in effect the garage band of film. Its a group of people who are trying to project an aspect of talent on film, encouraging each other, helping each other, getting the rough diamonds out and carving them for bits of sparkle gleams of hope in our quest to be granted the favor of Fortuna - in our minds eye what we wanted to see - no what we expected to see was - especially from a women so well spoken and projected such a confident air, was just hints of talent ------------ vision, technical adeptness (no use trying SF unless you had the chops to follow though), dialog, chemistry in handling actors, camera work, a single striking visual, or just a story that on some small level seduced, intrigued, - the great French film makers kept an ear in hollywood by invading our dreams - something that could be polished with the right amount of creative support and money. Anything......just give me a f’ing bone, some air to breath


There was nothing on that screen - sorry -- unlike garage bands where everything can go wrong and your ernest displays of emotion can sell it - TECHNICAL PROFICIENCY - with the basic disciplines of moviemaking - IS THE BASIS OF HOW MUCH YOU CAN SHOW YOU GIVE A SHIT about something - even if it not your audience to YOUR AUDIENCE - they don’t see your face during performance so selling is not functional

The students - where passive and polite. She spoke ............................................


(unfinished)