It Finally Haappened

Finally, I got to see myself on the big screen, in a proper film.  While watching "Green Zone," with Matt Damon, I saw myself, in the background.  There's an old saying, "you wait ages for a bus, then three come along at once."  Well, I saw myself in another film, "The Infidel."  I'm clearer in there and visible several times.  I wonder when the third one will come along?  I did manage to attend the world Premier of "The Infidel," my first premier, but they didn't let me attend the after party.  Shucks!

Juno

Late last year, I received an invitation to attend a screening of a new film, in London. The idea was to invite a load of bloggers to see the film, with the hope that we would then write about it. Given that the screening was free and there was a party afterwards, with free food and drinks, I was happy to attend. You know me, always happy to get freebies. The film I ended up seeing was "Juno." As it opens tomorrow, in the UK, it seems timely that I make good my end of the deal.
I wasn't expecting much. The title didn't give much away. Somewhere along the line, I learned that the film is about a teenager, Juno, who gets pregnant during her first sexual experience, then decides to give the baby away in adoption. It was supposed to be a comedy, but the description didn't exactly sound hilarious. Sometimes the best results come when one's expectations are lowered. The film is great! Ellen Page plays the 16-year-old, Juno and is quite convincing, as she looks very young. It's funny, which is a good thing for a comedy. The dialogue is filled with understated sarcasm, which is a form of humour I particularly enjoy.
The screenplay, written by Diablo Cody, has a full helping of great dialogue. What's even more impressive is that it's Cody's first film. Cody is a novelist and after this sample of her work, I definitely plan to check out her novels. She also is a blogger and was discovered by a film producer, who stumbled on her blog. He became a regular reader, then contacted her one day, offering her screenwriting work. This is the kind of blogger Cinderella story that entices us to sit for long hours in front of our keyboards, creating written matter for the world, unpaid.
Although the story is about a teenager, it's not a film only for teenagers. Those of us who are post-teens can find a lot to relate to. Between Juno's parents (played by Allison Janney and J.K. Simmons) and the prospective adopting parents (Jennifer Garner and Jason Bateman), there are plenty of adult characters to empathize with. If you're like me, you will find the teenagers ones you can relate to, as well. No matter what your age, you can remember what it was like to be a teen...unless you have Alzheimer's. Juno says the kind of stuff a lot of us would like to say, if we could return to our teens, but still know what we know now.
Directed by Jason Reitman (son of Ivan Reitman), it's one of the best comedies I have seen in a while. My opinion is supported by the fact that the film has received four Oscar nominations and a BAFTA nomination, since I saw it. The only slight flaw in it is that Juno has so many killer lines, it's almost unbelievable that she's a teenager. Also, if she's so clever, why the heck didn't she use a contraceptive? In any case, it's a film, not real life. It's easy to suspend disbelief. If she had used birth control, there'd be no story.
If all of this isn't enough to make you want to rush out a buy a ticket, the film as a fantastic soundtrack. The film is a total package: good acting, great screenplay, good directing, good music, and it's funny. It opens in Britain, tomorrow. Go see it. If you're the type of person to go to a film on Valentine's Day, the timing of the release couldn't be better. I can't think of a better date movie, out now.

Rushing to See August Rush

I managed to win tickets to see "August Rush," tonight, in an advanced preview. Instead of asking for two tickets as I usually do, then having the problem of not being able to find anyone to go with me, I only asked for one. I also managed to get a ticket to a cinema close by, for a change. The screening was in Slough, which is in the same county as Bracknell. However, things never work out for me with no hiccups. If I was still driving, then it would have been a simple matter to drive to Slough after work, for the 6:30PM screening. Riding the buses was a different matter.
Usually, the bus I take home gets me to the stop around the corner from my house by 5:35PM. If I stay on the same bus, it will take me to the Bracknell town centre, about ten minutes later. It would be 5:45 and I'd just be in Bracknell. There's no telling how close a connection I would manage with the bus onwards, to Slough. To make matters worse, all this would be happening in rush hour, when the traffic is bad. I could take the train, instead, but that would entail complicated connections, as Slough isn't on the same line as either Bracknell, Camberley, or Farnborough. Furthermore, buying a train ticket would entail extra expense. I can ride the buses for no extra charge, using my weekly bus ticket. I am so short of money these days, that this final consideration tipped the balance for me. I would make the epic journey by bus!
Unable to get out of work early, I departed at my usual time, starting with the 4:15 shuttle bus to Camberley. Being a Wednesday, I had managed to acquire a couple slices of pizza, left over from lunch. Having provisions with me would render it unnecessary to buy snacks from the cinema. Although the buses progressed at their normal plodding rate, I felt more anxious than usual, repeatedly checking my watch. When the 194 bus to Bracknell started pulling in to the Bracknell bus station, I looked through the windows, to see if the Slough bus was there. It was. Would I be able to make it onto the Slough bus before it pulled away? I willed the 194 driver to hurry up and open the doors.
As the doors opened, I leaped out of the bus I had arrived in. Dashing across the station, avoiding any of the mammoth buses that were in motion, I raced to the 191 to Slough. I made it! I couldn't have asked for a closer connection. However, whenever I have good news, it's usually accompanied by bad, it had started to rain. The rain would slow the traffic even more than usual. People in Britain seem to really have a tough time handling driving in the rain. Even Nando, my racist, Italian housemate, is bothered by driving in the rain. For Pete's sake! It's just a bit of water. My fate was now in the hands of the driver from First buses.
6:30PM came and went and we hadn't arrived at the Slough bus station. When we finally did arrive, I struggled to find the way to the cinema. The mall was partially closed, so instead of cutting through, I had to walk around. I kept hoping the film started late. If it was a normal showing, there would be about ten minutes of ads, followed by about ten minutes of coming attractions. These advanced previews usually don't have all that. Would they even let me in when I arrive late?
Finally, I rushed up to the box office twenty minutes after the screening was supposed to start. The man behind the counter informed me that the show had started already, but didn't object to me entering. I hate missing the beginning of a film, but I'd traveled so far, I might as well see as much as I could. After all, it was free. I don't know how much of the film I actually missed, as I have no idea if they started on time. I did manage to pick up the majority of the story.
"August Rush" is the story of a boy sent to an orphanage, as a baby. His parents are two unmarried, young musicians. The boy ends up on the streets of New York City, learning busking. He is a musical genius and his talent aids in his parents finding him, and each other. Directed by Kirsten Sheriden, the film has somewhat of a "female" feel to it. With a mother's bond with her long lost son triumphing over everything, I get the impression that this is the world the way a lot of women imagine it to be. It's Kirsten's seventh film as a director, although I haven't seen any of her other projects, nor even heard of them. The film is technically competent and the acting good, although some might feel that Robin Williams supporting role was a tad bit over-played. Freddie Highmore, who plays the starring role, is worthy of particular note. It's so hard to find good child actors, but he did an excellent job. I found it an enjoyable film that's suitable for families. It tugs at the heartstrings a bit and it may be slightly cheesy, but all in all, a nice story, well presented. The soundtrack is also quite good.

The Kingdom

Having won free tickets to see an advance, sneak preview of "The Kingdom," I went to see it, today. Although I had two tickets, I couldn't find anyone willing to go with me, so I went alone. One problem was that the cinema I needed to attend was a bit off the beaten path. Out of the two people I know who live near the cinema involved, one had to work and the other had a sick daughter. Never mind.
"The Kingdom" stars Jamie Foxx and Jenifer Garner. It's the latest film by director, Michael Mann ("Collateral," "Miami Vice," "Heat") Jamie Foxx leads a team of FBI forensic investigators who travel to Saudi Arabia, to track down the terrorists who attacked a compound of American, ex-pat workers. Working with a local, Saudi cop, who starts out as minder and ends up an ally, the FBI agents face a severe culture clash. This provides the meat of the drama, outside of the action scenes, culminating in a gun battle that has become a Mann trademark. I was instantly reminded of the big gun battle towards the end of "Heat." The only drawback to the film is that the subjects it raises are covered very superficially. I thought "Collateral," which also stars Jamie Foxx, along side Tom Cruise, had much better character development. So, I wouldn't say this is the best film by Mann, but it's competently done, escapist fare.

Death Proof

This past Saturday night, I went to see Quentin Tarantino's "Death Proof." Originally released in the USA as half of a double feature, entitled, "Grindhouse" (the other half coming from Robert Rodriguez), disappointing ticket sales for "Grindhouse" in the states prompted Tarantino to agree to the studio's suggestion that they be released separately. Thus, here in Europe, we have "Death Proof," on its own. This film is a tribute to 70's slasher and muscle car films. Having read a couple of reviews which alternated between mixed, half-hearted praise and downright panning, I think the European reviewers have it wrong. That's probably because they aren't as familiar with the style of films Tarantino is trying to emulate, possibly because they are too young. Also, being from Europe, they just might not be getting the "American" feel of this film. Those reviewers who had anything good to say about "Death Proof," seemed to focus on the car chase sequences. While those are good, I think the other parts of the film are also entertaining, just in a different way.
The film shows a character, known as Stuntman Mike, stalk two groups of sexy, young women. He uses a stunt car to kill and is brilliantly played by Kurt Russell. The majority of the film is spent getting to know the women, as we listen in to their conversations about sex and dating. I find it interesting that the protagonists in the last three films that Tarantino has done, are women. First, there was "Jackie Brown," then "Kill Bill (volumes I and II...Tarantino speaks of them as one film), and now "Death Proof." That's over half his filmography. Perhaps he finds women as fascinating as I do. Not only are the women in "Death Proof" all visually good looking, Tarantino equips them with stereotypical, Tarantino dialog. While one might be tempted, at first, to dismiss the dialog as the unrealistic fantasy of a male screenwriter, given the enormous difficulty in writing dialog for characters of the opposite gender to the writer's, my experience of listening to the podcasts of my good friend, Anjelika Jinxs (www.naivelondongirl.com ), leads me to conclude that some young women do actually talk this way. All through the film, I kept being reminded of Anjelika talking with her friend and co-presenter, Wanda. If you haven't checked out Anjelika's "Naive London Girl" podcast, do so. They are very "adult" in content, but also very funny. Back to "Death Proof," one reviewer actually complained that the women are all sexy and dressed in revealing outfits. Duh! I'm thinking he must be gay. Far from being a negative, I'd say that's a plus, especially for male viewers. None of the women in the film are size zero waifs. They are curvy, real women. One even has a little bit of a belly going on.
The crowning glory for "Death Proof," as far as I'm concerned, is an aspect that, so far as I've read, has been totally lost on the reviewers. The second half of the film follows Stuntman Mike's second group of potential victims. These girls are working on shooting a movie, but the plot line centers around stuntwoman turned actress, Zoe Bell, playing herself. Zoe has a compulsion to drive a 1970, white, Dodge Challenger and perform a stunt called, "ship's mast" with it. Why is that significant? Well, if you have to ask, then you, like the reviewers, is missing out on one of the best aspects of "Death Proof." A 1970, white, Dodge Challenger is the car from the film "Vanishing Point" (1971). The fact that Tarantino has Zoe, and another of the girls, being fans of that film was great. The girls even refer to "Vanishing Point" as one of the greatest movies ever made, in the dialog. I'd qualify that by saying, "the greatest car film ever made," but it is in my top five. I love that Tarantino is also into "Vanishing Point." For most of my life, I thought it was just me. If you see "Vanishing Point," it takes "Death Proof" to another level. Zoe Bell ends up on the hood (bonnet) of the speeding Challenger, during a car chase sequence with Stuntman Mike in another 70s era muscle car, a Dodge Charger. The action, here, is truly breathtaking and Tarantino is quick to point out that no CGI or sped up film techniques were used to make the sequence. The cars are real and are really being driven as fast as they seem. This beats the hell out of the fake looking stuff you get in "The Fast and the Furious" franchise.
"Death Proof" has a simple plot, as is typical of the types of films it's emulating. It's not Shakespeare, but great escapist entertainment. It was able to hearken me back to my youth, when I spent many an afternoon in a darkened cinema, enjoying thrilling car chases. Tarantino manages to wed that to my adult interest in women and bring the whole package into the noughties. I found a common bond with the film maker. Perhaps we are both products of the same era.

Wearing the Real Costume

Yesterday, I worked on the feature film for which I attended the costume fitting last week. I had a 6:30AM call time at Pinewood Studios. Getting there via public transportation would prove tricky. After much research, I decided to take the first bus from Bracknell, towards London, but get off at Langley. The production company was providing a free shuttle bus service from Langley train station to Pinewood. They were expecting people from London to arrive at Langley on the 6:11 from Paddington Station. The bus from Bracknell was due to arrive in Langley at 6:06. The only problem was that the bus stop isn't at the train station. Could I walk to the train station in five minutes?
The answer turned out to be, "no." It wasn't helped by the fact that my bus was a bit late. The train station proved to be quite far. After walking a while, I caught a bus that was going my way. I asked the driver if he stopped at the train station, but he said no. He did get me closer, faster than I could have walked the distance. By the time I arrived at Langley Station, it was 6:25. When I walked to the front of the station, I figured the shuttle to Pinewood would have left already. Maybe I could catch a cab from the station. As the front of the station came into view, I was pleasantly surprised. There were a bunch of men waiting there. The shuttle hadn't come yet.
The mini buses didn't start arriving to pick us up till just past 6:30. Technically, we were late, but as we were all in the same boat, I figured I couldn't get into trouble over it. We had been told to arrive at 6AM, if we wanted breakfast. I was concerned about missing breakfast, as I hadn't brought anything to eat with me. Upon arrival at Pinewood, I was in for my second pleasant surprise of the day. They were still serving breakfast. There were so many background artistes in line for their costumes, that there was plenty of time for me to grab something to eat first.
The only downside to this shoot was that all of the actors for the scene were men. There must have been a couple of hundred of us, but not a single female. The only women around were a couple of production runners, a couple of costume people, and all the makeup department. The makeup ladies were quite old and matronly looking, but the female runners were on the cute side. Oh, one of the assistant directors was female as well, but she wasn't so good looking. Mostly, she kept repeating, "quiet please," so often that towards the end of the day, I felt like pushing her head through a wall. Strangely, I ended up resisting the urge.
Although my agent had originally told me the job was for two days filming, I found out that the production company was going to try to cram it all into the one day. That's why we started so bloody early. Because I had been told it was for two days, I had booked two days off work at the restaurant. If they succeeded in getting all the filming done in one day, I would end up with a day off for nothing. The day was long. They didn't wrap us till just past 7PM. It was then that they finally told us for certain that we would not be needed the next day. By them, there was no one left at the restaurant for me to call and cancel my day off for the next day. Oh well, I resigned myself to spending the next day at home, relaxing. Poor me.

Transformers

For the second weekend in a row, I was let down by an America friend backing out of going out. Last Saturday, I decided to go out on my own and went to see "Transformers." I wasn't a fan of the original cartoon, TV series. It was a bit after my time, as I was grown up by the time it came out. I did have a small encounter with the cartoon TV series, though. During the 1984-85 school year, I worked as a school bus driver, while training to be a flight instructor. One of the kids on the bus, Tommy, had a bad reputation as being a lot of trouble. Previous drivers had repeatedly "written up" the boy for causing disturbances amongst the other children. I was warned not to hesitate to "write up" Tommy, if he caused any trouble.
I have never been a fan of authoritarian solutions. Instead, I talked to Tommy. I told him that the seat right behind me was a special seat, which only the most privileged child could have the honor of sitting in. Of course, he wanted that honor. This kept him close to me, so I could monitor him, and away from the majority of the other children, who hung out towards the back of the bus. Next, I talked to him and asked him what he liked to do. This led him to tell me about the TV shows he enjoyed. One of the ones he named was "The Transformers." I decided to watch the shows he named, a few times, so I could speak about them with him, thus keeping him "entertained" while he was riding the bus. That was how I ended up watching a few episodes of "The Transformers" cartoon TV series.
It worked. Tommy got into the habit of quietly sitting in the special seat and discussing cartoons with me. Meanwhile, I learned about the Autobots, led by Optimus Prime (the good guys), versus the Decepticons, led by Megatron (the bad guys). Transformers are robots which are able to "transform" into cars, trucks, and other innocent looking machines. After one school year, I quit that job. It was only meant to be temporary. I also quit watching "The Transformers." I was in my mid-twenties and it didn't have any nostalgic appeal for me.
Fast forward twenty-two years later. Someone has decided to make a feature length, live-action film of the Transformers. From trailers for it I had seen in the cinema, I was impressed with the Computer Generated Images (CGI) technology which bring the Transformers to "life," on the screen. With my original plans for Saturday postponed, I decided to go see the film. As it has already been out for about two months, there was only one showing on Saturday, at the local cinema, in Bracknell, at 5:10PM. Oddly, when I arrived at the box office, the line for the multiplex was so long, I ended up missing the first few minutes of the film. From where I picked it up, I only need one word to describe the film: fantastic!
Director, Michael Bay, has done a great job turning a line of toys into a film, while keeping it relatively faithful to the earlier cartoon versions. The special effects are amazing but the film doesn't solely ride on CGI. There's a human story as well. Shia LaBeouf plays Sam Witwicky, a somewhat nerdy high school student, who gets his first car. Megan Fox plays Mikaela Banes, Sam's love interest in the film. The first thing I can say about the aptly named Fox is that she's hot! What's icing on the cake is that her character is an expert mechanic and that's hot too. I can't think of much that's more exciting than a beautiful babe who can turn a wrench. Fellas, if you like your female eye candy a bit more on the academic side, there's also the lovely Rachael Taylor, playing brainiac computer whiz, Maggie Madsen. All the women in this film are clever and I'm one of those guys who's not intimidated by clever women, so I was loving it. There's a message in there for the women of the world. Nice guys like women with brains. Don't worry ladies, there are some hunky guys in it too, as U.S. soldiers. I'm sure many young women will also find LaBeouf cute as well (I've herd he's dating Rihanna). Anyway, that's one of the great things about this film. There's something for everyone.
Of course, Sam Witwicky's first car turns out to be an Autobot named, "Bumblebee." The car/robot's loyalty to Sam is heart warming, as well as building on every man's fantasy that his car is loyal to him. The film also has some funny comic elements and I found myself laughing out loud several times, starting with Bernie Mac as the used car dealer, and continuing with Sam's parents. Special effects as good as those in the film are best enjoyed on the big screen. If you haven't already seen it, try to catch the film before it leaves the cinemas for good. Watching it as a DVD, at home, just won't compare. This film is enjoyable, escapist fare. I liked it much more than "Spiderman 3." It's not as sophisticated as "Bourne Ultimatum," but on a simpler level, it's more fun. Some newspaper critics have complained that it's too long, but I didn't think so. Although two hours and twenty-four minutes long, it doesn't drag and I was sorry to see it end. I wanted more. This is a fun film which the whole family can enjoy. Kids will love it, while there is enough in it to keep adults entertained, as well. "Transformers..." more than meets the eye.

The Bourne Ultimatum

Today, "The Bourne Ultimatum," the third film in the Bourne series, opened into general release, here in the UK. I felt a very strong desire to see the film immediately. Why? Because I worked on the film, as an extra, and I wanted to see if I could be seen in any of the scenes I was involved with. Additionally, I liked the previous two films in the series and I haven't been to the cinema in over a month. When I got home from work, I checked the show times at the local cinema, here in Bracknell. There was a show starting in twenty-five minutes. The one after that was at 8PM. I preferred the earlier time, but it would be a close thing if I could make it, without a car.
Although I wanted to have a shower and change clothes, I quickly decided that I didn't have the time. Putting my work shirt back on, I changed shoes and socks, grabbed my wallet, and jacket, then raced out the door. It felt exciting. I was a man with a mission, just like Jason Bourne, in the film. Checking the bus schedule at my local bus stop, I discovered there was only one before the film started. It was due at 6:06PM. The film was due to start at 6:15. It would be close. Suppose the bus was late? On the other hand, the cinemas in Britain show about ten minutes of advertisements, then several minutes of trailers, before the feature, so that would give me a cushion of time. I decided to walk to the next stop, which is on the main road into Bracknell. Two more bus routes use that stop, so I would increase my chances of catching one earlier.
Cutting across the sports centre field, I thought about all the things I had in common with the character, Jason Bourne, played by Matt Damon. I was alone, in a foreign land, using public transportation. I even have the same initials! The coincidences are too much to contemplate. "The Bourne Ultimatum" is a significant film for me. I worked on it for eight days, the longest stint I have done on any film, so far. I played three different people in as many different scenes, so the odds of being seen were the highest for any big budget feature I have worked on, to date. For me, being seen is one of the rewards of doing extra work. The work is dull and you don't get a credit, so being seen is an added bonus. One scene I did on "Ultimatum," I walked down a corridor, passing Joan Allen, one of the principals in the film. Joan plays Pamela Landry. As it's just me and Joan in that corridor, I figured the odds of me being recognizable on screen were good. IF they used the shot.
Waiting at the next stop, I hoped someone I know would see me, as he or she drove into town. Maybe I would be offered a ride. At one point, a car drove by and honked, but it passed so quickly, I didn't recognize any of the people in it. The car pulled into the petrol station, further up the road. Should I go there and see who it is? If I did, I would risk missing the bus. I decided to play it safe and wait for the bus. The reviews of "Ultimatum," which I have read, so far, are very positive. I am tempted to say, "glowing." The Bourne films have been described as "intelligent thriller" and are thought to have raised the bar for the whole genre of espionage thrillers. Many see that influence on the latest Bond film, "Casion Royale," which seemed to be trying to imitate the Bourne style. Larushka Ivan-Zadeh (boy, I hate hyphenated names), in today's Metro newspaper, gives "Ultimatum" four out of five stars, indicating a "very good."
Thankfully, the bus was not late. I reached the last stop, in Bracknell town centre, with six minutes till show time. I walked, purposefully, toward the Odeon Cinema, taking advantage of a pedestrian short-cut. Approaching the cinema complex, I walked fast in order to get ahead of a slow moving group of young women. I managed to beat them to the escalator. Riding the escalator up to the box office, I wondered if there would be a long queue. Two minutes till show time. I hoped that the start time was early enough that a lot of people won't have managed to get home from work and get themselves together for an evening out, yet. As I reached the top of the escalator, looking ahead, I saw there was no one in the queue for the box office. Yes! Now, just let the show not be sold out.
Some UK cinemas still offer reserved seating. Tonight, the Odeon was in reserve seat mode. For Americans, it's a strange experience, as in America, all cinemas are open seating. As a former cinema manager, I think it's daft. Reserve seating makes buying a ticket a longer process, as the customer has to choose where he wants to sit. Also, you need an usher or two, at the auditorium, to seat people. I thought most cinemas, here, had abandoned it. I haven't run across reserved seating for a few years. The cashier, sadly a male, asked me if I wanted to purchase Premium Seating. I have never heard of that before. The Bracknell cinema used to be part of the UCI chain and never offered "Premium Seating." "What, exactly, is Premium seating?" I asked. Did I have time for this? As soon as he mentioned that the premium seats are at the back of the auditorium, I cut him off. "No thanks." I prefer sitting in front. I won't pay extra to sit in the back. Realizing that the screening was reserve seating, I told him I wanted to sit in front, adding, "as far front as you can get me," to make sure he understood. He was surprised, because, for some strange reason, most people seem to shun sitting in the front row. So much so that Odeon management have chosen to start selling seats in the back, for a premium. I have always preferred sitting in front. I get unlimited leg room and I can lose myself into the film. No distractions of people's heads in front. As everyone else is behind, I don't hear them talking as much. To me, it seems strange that people pay extra to sit in the front row at a concert, or at a play, but avoid it at the cinema. People, are strange.
Inside, a cute, female usher was taking the tickets. She smiled sweetly at me and I said, "gee, you seem happy," as I walked up to her. I don't remember her response. I didn't have time to flirt with her, I needed to get in to see my film. All that mattered to me was that she said, "screen five," and indicated the direction I should go. I rushed past the concession counter. No over-priced treats for me. I could do with saving the calories and the money. At the door to the auditorium, there was a sign posted, reading, "please wait to be seated." Oh for Pete's sake! It was the reserve seating again. No one was visible. I waited impatiently for the usher. Finally, he strolled into view. He walked me to my seat while the adverts were playing. I am perfectly capable of walking myself to my seat, thank you. The room was only about a quarter full. As I guessed, it was a bit early. I suspect the next showing, at 8PM, was much busier. I was seated all on my own, in the front row, dead center. That suited me fine. I made myself comfortable. At least I didn't miss the trailers. I like to see what's coming to the cinemas. I saw a trailer for "The Kingdom," which looks good, but mostly I was impatient for the feature to start. I wanted gratification and I wanted it right away.
The good news is that "The Bourne Ultimatum" is good. If I have any complaints, it's that the story is simple and there could have been more fight and chase sequences. At 115 minutes, the film bucks the trend of going over two hours. All of the character development is centered on Jason Bourne. Although some of the peripheral characters seem interesting, we don't get to know much about them. Scott Glenn, who plays Ezra Kramer, Director of the CIA, is shown so little, we hardly see him. I had heard a rumor that one of the scenes I did, with Scott Glenn, was dropped from the film and that's true. Julia Stiles is back, reprising her role as Nicky Parsons and thee is a hint of a "history" between her and Bourne, but that's all we get, a hint. Also, director Paul Greengrass, might have overused his trademark, handheld, jumbly camera shots. The most involved hand to hand fight sequence in the film is hard to follow, because the image jumps around on the screen so much. The same is true of the police car chase sequence. Greengrass also directed the previous Bourne film, "The Bourne Supremacy," (as well as "United 93") but I don't remember the camera jumping around so much in that one. It would be interesting to watch them both again and compare.
The bad news is that you can't see me in any of the film. As I mentioned above, gone is the scene I did with Scott Glenn. The Waterloo station scenes are so crowded and between the jumpy, hand-held camera, and the flashing editing, I can't find myself. Finally, my big scene with Joan Allen, which comes towards the end of the film, was cut so that it starts on screen after I have passed her. After all the rushing, I felt defeated. Still, I earned more money on that film than any other show business project I have worked on. It also got me filming at Shepperton and Pinewood studios, for the first time. While other reviewers have rated it the best Bourne film so far, I think I still prefer the first one (sorry Paul). In any case, it's a good thriller and worth seeing. I think it's better than "Casino Royale."

What a Treasure

Last Saturday, I worked on a new film. It was only extra work, but I was grateful for the opportunity to earn some extra money, to put toward my car fund. I was pleased to discover that I was working on "National Treasure 2." The day's filming was at Pinewood Studios, on the back lot. I was playing a cowboy walking along the sidewalk in a town in one of the Dakotas (North, South...one of them). The costume department outfitted me with a black cowboy hat. How cool was that? The scene involved one of the principals, Ed Harris. I walk past as he comes out of a store. At a couple of points during the afternoon, he and I were as close as I am to this computer screen, right here on my desk. We passed each other like two ships in the night, only it was day and ships don't usually pass each other on the sidewalk. All this and we were served steak for lunch. Man, the movie business is great, isn't it?

Best Laid Plans

After purchasing a ticket to travel by coach, within England, this weekend, I received a call, today, from my agent. This time, it was Emma on the phone. She asked me if I was available to work on a film shoot this Saturday and Sunday? In a flash, I recalled that I was due to leave Friday, after work, and return on Sunday evening. Without hesitation, I told Emma that I was available. She said she'd call back tomorrow and confirm things. I don't like to say no to my agent, as I have heard they don't offer clients as much work if they find you to be routinely unavailable. Besides, I need the money. After I got home, I called the friend I was supposed to visit and broke the news. We decided to keep our plans open until things were confirmed with the agency. The last time they told me I had work, they ended up telling me it was cancelled before the day.

Going to Star Wars Celebration Europe

On Saturday, I went to the Star Wars Celebration Europe, held at London's ExCel Centre. Upon arrival, I got in the queue (line) for tickets. It moved pretty fast and I was put ahead because I was paying cash. Although I had seen the price listed as £21 before I went, when I got to the cashier, it was £23. In addition, if you wanted a lanyard to hang your ticket around your neck, it was another £3. A pack of six autograph tokens was £30. An official program was £6. Sod all that, I just bought one adult ticket.
After buying my ticket, I had to join another queue (line) to get into the exhibition hall. This queue was so long, it started at the other end of the ExCel Centre, outside in the parking lot. Once I was safely in the queue, I started observing the other attendees. Geeks were all over the place. Loads of people were wearing various sorts of Star Wars T shirts. It struck me that I have a Star Wars T shirt, somewhere in my closet, but I didn't dig it out to wear. I guess I am just not enough of a geek. Nerds in T shirts were only the tip of the galactic iceberg. There were loads of people wearing Star Wars costumes. It was like being in freak central. Surely only guys would be wacky enough to dress up as someone in Star Wars. Then I spotted women. Not only unattractive, geeky women either. In front of me in the queue, there was a quite good looking young woman dressed as Senator Amidala, from "Episode II: Attack of the Clones." As had many of the others, she'd made her costume herself. Some parts were fashioned from paper and cardboard. What a find! A pretty woman who is so into "Star Wars," that she would make her own costume. And she was alone. At first, I thought she was with this family in front of her. They looked quite similar. This family had two young boys and one teenaged girl. I thought the costumed woman was their oldest daughter, as she looked like she was in her early twenties, which would have made her their first of four children. I noticed that none of the family were speaking to the costumed one. None of the family members had costumes on, so I thought they might be ignoring her, as she was the geeky child, who's eccentricities are tolerated.
The queue moved steadily and, eventually, we gained admittance to the exhibition hall. I would estimate that I waited in queue for about an hour. At the entrance, I noticed that costumed woman went in a different direction as the family. They weren't together! She didn't even have a date. Here we were, two single Star Wars lovers, passing like two starships in the night. Oh well. Inside the hall, the place was packed. There were people from all over Europe...Germans, Spanish, Poles...and, of course, loads of British. Some were dressed as Jedi, while others were dressed in Stormtrooper uniforms. Wandering around, I noticed that the majority of space in the exhibition hall was taken up by vendor stalls. So it seemed that one paid £23 ($46) for the privilege of being able to shop vendors and spend even more money. And it wasn't as if these vendors were offering bargains. A lightsabre replica was £75 ($150). I wasn't about to pay prices like that. After a couple of hours, I was starting to have my fill of the place. I regretted paying so much for so little. Still, I tried to find more to do, to make up for the admission price. I had the foresight to bring some food with me and was thus able to avoid the long queues for food, as well as the exorbitant prices.
In the afternoon, I joined a long queue for a show that was billed as having celebrity guests. Having heard that Mark Hamill was making an appearance, I hoped this would make it all worthwhile. After being seated, the show began with an announcer doing an impression of Obi-Wan Kenobi. He came across as sounding like a drunk Alec Guiness. The host of the show was announced and out walked Warwick Davis, the dwarf who played Wicket in "Star Wars Episode VI: Return of the Jedi." He was to interview a celebrity guest. When the guest was announced, it was Rick McCallum, producer of the newer, first three episodes. Oh joy! Not even one of the stars of the films. When Warrick finished interviewing McCallum, the show ended. What? That was it? I queued for over an hour for that?
As it got late in the day, the crowd thinned out. Checking out the autograph area, I didn't want to pay to get some actor's autograph, but I wanted to see what stars were there. Most of the actors present were unknowns who played this or that alien, or a bush in one episode or another. There was no way I was going to pay for another actor's autograph. Mark Hamill, the biggest star there, refused to accept "tokens" for his autograph. For an autographed photo with him, you had to cough up £85 ($170!). There was a long queue for Mark, while most of the others sat there, idle. I managed to keep myself occupied till 5:45 PM, then I'd had as much as I could take and left. I was extremely disappointed in the Celebration. It seemed like it was mostly about separating cash from the customers. Although I love the Star Wars films, this "celebration" was a let-down. The most interesting thing I noticed there was that some of the German attendees seemed a little too enthusiastic about dressing up as members of the Empire's military. Empire military uniforms are modeled on World War II Nazi uniforms, so there seemed a slightly worrying trend going on. Also, the British Royal Navy and Royal Army had displays there, trying to recruit people. They had posters comparing British military equipment with craft from Star Wars. There seemed to be something a little perverse about trying to lure young fans of Star Wars to join the military, so they can be shipped off to places like Iraq and Afghanistan. The next time I see a Star Wars Celebration advertised, I shall avoid it. I recommend you do the same.

Star Wars Celebration Europe

This weekend is the Star Wars Celebration Europe, at the Excel Centre, in London's Docklands area. I am planning on going tomorrow, although I haven't been able to find anyone to go with me. I have asked several people, but all have declined. Don't they know this is STAR WARS? This is the first time a Star Wars celebration event has been held outside of the US. It's perfectly timed to commemorate thirty years since "Star Wars" was released and I'm going to be there. After attending, I'll stop in to visit Tom, in Surrey Quays. May the force be with you.

Things Can Always Get Worse

When I was a kid, I had Bill Cosby albums, with him doing stand up comedy. I remember one bit he did when he said not to ever say, "things couldn't get any worse." They can and if you say they can't, they probably will. Last Sunday evening, I was driving home from London when my car began losing power. Looking in my rear view mirror, I could see smoke trailing from my car. Not a good sign. At that point on the motorway, the hard shoulder was blocked off by cones, due to some ongoing construction, or some such nonsense. I managed to keep the car going, but the speed I was able to get out of it was getting slower and slower. Finally, the cones ended and I was able to pull over. As I eased up off the throttle, the engine stalled.
I coasted to a stop on the hard shoulder, clear of all lanes of traffic. My car has only ever conked out once before. That time, it turned out to be a minor problem with an induction hose. This time, I feared things had gotten worse. Smoke was coming from underneath the engine. I tried to restart the car a couple of times, but it wasn't sounding like it was turning over normally. After calling the Royal Automobile Club (RAC), I sat on the side of the road, reading a book, while waiting for their rescue vehicle to arrive. That's the thing about Britain, there's a lot of royal this and royal that. Comes with having a queen, I suppose. One really frustrating aspect was that I was only a mile from my exit for home. So close and yet, so far.
The RAC man arrived in less than an hour. I wonder if there are any RAC women? I have never had a woman turn up on a recovery. That would be different. Some hot blond, brunette, or redhead shows up in an RAC boiler suit, unzipped enough to show a little cleavage. Anyway, this time it was a man, as usual. After inspecting the car and crawling underneath, he informed me that the pool of liquid forming under the vehicle was oil. Not good. The car was disgorging it's lifeblood on the side of the motorway. The engine was blown. He started making preparations to tow it to my house, while I let the news sink in.
In some ways, I wasn't surprised. My car had been leaking oil and coolant for two years, and I'd put next to no money into it, by way of maintenance, for at least that long. The neglect was based on one simple fact. I didn't have the money to pay for servicing. My car, a BMW 730i, is 12 years old and has 162,000 miles on it. I was impressed every day when it would start and get me to work. I thought I had blown the engine the previous time it broke down, nine months ago, but I just had a busted hose that time. It soldiered on, like a trooper. It was the best car I ever owned and means a lot to me. I even lived in it for two months, back in the autumn of 2002, when my evil ex-wife, the Black Queen, locked me out of our marital home. I spent Thanksgiving in the car, in November, 2002. Now, it's gone, or will be when the scrap people pick it up. It's kind of like the destruction of the Enterprise, in "Star Trek III: the Search for Spock." The trail of smoke from my car reminiscent of the trail of smoke from the Enterprise hull, as it spiraled into the Genesis planet. In the film, the Enterprise was blown up deliberately, in order to evade capture by the Klingons. I didn't blow up my car deliberately. So maybe they aren't similar. Perhaps my car's death is more like the destruction of the Enterprise D in the film, "Star Trek: Generations." There, the Enterprise D suffers a catastrophic warp core breech and the saucer section crashes into a planet.
On Earth, just as in "Star Trek," life goes on. I have been adjusting fairly well to life without a car, rediscovering buses. I am torn between buying a cheap car and a cheap motorcycle. I don't have much money, but thanks to a generous birthday gift from someone close to me, I am better off than I otherwise would be. It will be at least two years before I will be in a financial position to buy a car as nice as the one I had. In the meantime, I will have to make do on the cheap. The touching tag line at the end of "Star Trek: the Motion Picture," seems appropriate. "The Human adventure is just beginning."

June's Last Day

On Saturday afternoon, I checked out of the Hilton hotel in which I had spent the night. I had plans to visit my friend, Tom, and to go out to a club for the evening. Tom is a bit obsessed with going to the gym, so he asked me not to come over until later in the day, so he could visit his usual fitness center at his usual time. It wasn't worth him going early, just to spend more time with me. As a result, I had some hours to kill. I decided to stop home and write a blog, plus do a few other chores. My route home took me very close to a cinema I used to frequent, so I decided to treat myself to seeing a film.
I wanted to see "Spiderman 3," but when I arrived at the cinema, it was no longer showing. "Shrek the Third" was showing on three screens, which seemed a bit redundant, so they could no longer spare one for "Spiderman." Plan B kicked in and I bought a ticket to see "Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer" (try saying that three times, fast), instead. Having been an avid reader of comic books when I was a child, I am very familiar with the Fantastic Four. The Silver Surfer was a newer character, only just coming out as I started to grow out of my regular comic book habit, but I am aware of him as well. This film is the second motion picture outing for the Fantastic Four. I enjoyed the first one, although it wasn't "fantastic," pun intended. The sequel is one of those rare instances where a sequel is even better than the original. I found the film thoroughly enjoyable, escapist fare. It's suitable for the whole family and the special effects, especially of the Silver Surfer, are superb. An excellent example of adapting comic book heroes to the big screen. Jessica Alba, who plays Sue Storm in the film, looks gorgeous. There's a scene where she's in a wedding dress and she looks stunning. It's not surprising that she was voted the sexiest woman in FHM's 2007 poll.
After the film, I went home. I did the things I wanted to do around the house, including calling Tom. I offered to bring some DVDs with me when I visited, so Tom and I discussed which ones. Subsequent to talking to Tom, I spoke with Mucky Sarah. She had agreed to attend the club with me, that night. During our conversation, she suggested that I come by her flat early and we could record a podcast. Sarah also wanted to attend the new cinema at the O2 Arena, which is the renovated Millennium Dome. Run by Vue Cinemas, there was a special price of £5 for any film this past weekend, a discount off the normal weekend price of £8. I agreed to go to the cinema with Sarah, then called Tom back and invited him to go with us, instead of sitting around watching DVDs. He agreed straight away. Tom, Sarah and I all share a love of bargains at the moment.
I set off for Tom's. The traffic in London was particularly heavy and it took me longer than usual to get to Surrey Quays. When I walked into Tom's flat, I found that Tom's friend, Jason, was there already. I invited Jason to join us in going to the cinema and he seemed interested. The plan was for me to call Mucky Sarah when I arrived at Tom's, which I proceeded to do. The result was that we ended up engaging in a four-way conversation, with the aid of the hands-free feature of Tom's phone. Tom and Sarah each accessed the internet, retrieving a listing of what was showing at the O2 Arena, Vue cinema. The first order of business was to agree on a film to see. Unfortunately, we seemed to fall at the first hurdle. I'm not sure if the choice of films put the boys off, or what, but the next thing I knew, Jason was saying that the cinema would be crowded, because of the special price. One thing led to another and suddenly, Tom was backing out, as well. They also declined to accept my invitation to go to the party at the club, to which I had free passes. The excuse given was concern about potential car bombs, after two were discovered in the city the day before. Then, the two guys got up to go to the local Tesco supermarket. I suggested that they wait a moment, while I finished my conversation with Sarah, and I could go with them, but they told me not to worry. It struck me as odd that they would prefer to walk in the rain, rather than let me drive them.
Continuing my conversation with Sarah, I agreed to see "Shrek the Third," starting at 11PM. After the film, Sarah would attend the party with me. I needed directions to the cinema. I tried looking on the internet, as Tom had left his computer on, but he has one of these operating configurations that blocks access when the computer goes dormant, unless a password is entered. I figured Tom and Jason would be back any minute, then I could ask them, but it got later, and later, with no sign of them. I had promised Sarah that I would meet her outside the cinema at 10:45. Estimating that it would take me around thirty minutes to drive to the cinema, I started worrying as it got past 10:00. I saw a street atlas on Tom's bookshelf, but it was old and didn't have the Millennium complex shown. Finally, at 10:15, I could wait no longer and left. I decided to drive in the direction of the Arena complex, then look for signs.
My route took me past road works, where half the road was blocked. Traffic had to alternate direction at a set of temporary traffic lights. This caused a traffic jam and I worried that I would be late. I also started running so low on petrol, that I decided to stop and buy more. After clearing the traffic jam, I found a low priced petrol station which would serve a dual purpose. Even though I had driven to the area where I thought the Millennium complex was, I had as yet seen no signs. At least I could ask someone at the petrol station. I am one of those typical men who doesn't like to ask directions from strangers, so you know I must have felt desperate to do so. To my relief, I had been heading in the right direction and it was just a little further on.
By the time I left the petrol station, I was late. I kept looking at my mobile, expecting to see a call come through from Sarah, but my phone remained deathly silent. Finding the Dome complex was only the first problem. Where, in the immense complex, was the cinema located? I could find no signs indicating where to go for the cinema. I drove past car park after car park, until I came to the end of the road. To the left was a special, elite parking area. To my right was a driveway which was blocked off, with two guards protecting the entrance. I pulled up to the guards, rolling down my passenger side window, to ask directions to the cinema. Before I could ask, one of the guards said I should continue on. "How are you able to give me directions when I haven't told you where I want to go, yet?" I asked him.
"You're blocking a box junction," he responded, indicating I had to move on. So, he wasn't giving me directions to the cinema, he was just telling me to move. He refused to give me directions and kept insisting that I move. Even though there was a "box junction" grid painted on the road surface, it was 11PM, there was no traffic, and the roadway was blocked by the barrier behind the guards. Surely, this idiot could have taken a moment to tell me where I needed to go. Then I would have been off anyway. I pulled ahead, then pulled alongside the curb. I got out and walked back to the guards.
Approaching the one who hadn't spoken to me before, I said, "I don't like talking to assholes, so I'll ask you..." Before I could finish my question about where I needed to go for the cinema, I was interrupted by the man. He refused to let me finish and said he wouldn't talk to me because I had used profanity. I pointed out to him that I hadn't called him anything and other than the one word, I had used perfectly courteous language. I pointed out that I only wanted directions to the cinema on the site, then I would be on my way. He repeatedly refused to give me directions, because I had used profanity. Loosing my patience, I proceeded to curse him up and down. He didn't like profanity? I subjected him to such a stream of four letter words that I hoped he'd never need to hear another, ever again. I also added that it was people like him that made people no longer want to come to London.
As I started walking back to my car, he said, "you got out of your car to say that?"
I turned on him, saying, "no! I got out to ask for directions to the cinema, but you're too much of a moron to give them to me." I spun around and marched back to my car, shouting one last four letter word at the second guard. Driving to another car park, I ran into a third guard and asked him. He said I was in the right place, but I needed to pay £5 for parking, before I could enter. What a stitch up! The ticket price to the film might be only £5, but now they had stung me for another £5 for parking. One word of advice for Vue Cinemas: signs!After parking, I began the long walk to the cinema. Still no word from Sarah, so I sent her a text, asking, "where are you?" I got no reply. It was 11PM now and the film was starting. They show advertising before the film starts in the UK, so I hoped we could still make it before the feature started.
Reaching the lobby of the cinema, no Sarah. Had she gone in without me and without texting me, or calling my mobile? What should I do? I called her mobile and she answered. After asking here location, she told me she was just walking from the Tube station. She was later than I was! By the time she turned up at the cinema lobby, the film had been on 15 minutes already. Sarah suggested that we go see, "La Vie En Rose," which started at 11:45. Reluctantly, I agreed. I half suspected that Sarah was late, deliberately, so we would end up seeing this film. The French film, with subtitles, is the story of the famous, French singer, Edith Piaf. It turns out that Sarah is a fan of Piaf. I have only heard one song by the Frenchwoman, before. The film is well made and a fascinating look at the behind the scenes life of a celebrity, including the long, hard road, from one's beginnings to fame. However, it is a bit long. At two hours and twenty minutes, it's a bit much to watch starting at midnight.
When the film finally finished, it was 2:17AM! The venue where the party was being held was supposed to close at 3AM! Sarah apologized and said she hadn't realized the film would be that long. She said we could go by the party anyway. By the time we got there, it was 3AM. We walked in as there was no longer any doorman checking invitations. The lights were on, but there were still some people there and music was still playing. Mucky Sarah immediately informed me that she didn't like the music and wanted to leave. She offered to make her own way home so I could stay, but I wouldn't have it. I drove her home and accepted her invitation to spend the night. It suddenly dawned on me, even on dawn was breaking outside, that June was gone and July had begun.

Ocean's 13

On Saturday, a close, personal friend of mine treated me to dinner and a movie. Actually, it was movie then dinner, but I don't think the order matters too much. We went to see "Ocean's 13," the second sequel in the modern "Ocean's" franchise. After acknowledging that the first sequel, "Ocean's 12," was a load of crap, the film makers promised to do better by the audience, this time. That promise was kept, but only just. As my friend hadn't seen the modern version of "Ocean's 11," nor the Frank Sinatra original, we watched it on DVD before going to see "13." The latest outing still doesn't compare favorably with "11." Both Julia Roberts and "12's" Catherine Zeta Jones are absent from "13." All the original guys are back and the additional 13th man is, I suppose, the father of Matt Damon's character.
Al Pacino plays the bad guy/target in this film. I normally love Pacino's work and have previously stated that he is capable of making a bad film worth watching. This time, he didn't. I found his performance in "Ocean's 13" unusually uninspiring. It was okay, but nothing special. The plot is so complicated, I found myself wondering when the action was going to start. Personally, I would recommend waiting for this one to be on DVD, as ticket prices are so expensive these days, I wouldn't spend one's limited budget on such a mediocre excursion.

I Almost Went Out Again

Today, at work, I overheard two catering assistants talking about going to the cinema this evening. What surprised me is that the younger one, who's in her late twenties, was talking about going out with the older one, who's older than me, I think. I have never heard of these two socializing before. So, I did what any red-blooded, ease-dropper would do. I said, "why didn't you invite me?" The younger one said she didn't think I would have been interested, because I wouldn't want to spend the money. Gosh, it's surprising how well she knows me. I let her know that I could have made an exception. They had already bought their tickets, over the internet, and it was reserved seating. Some cinemas in the UK still have reserved seating. I have never heard of one in America doing that. Because of the reserved seating, even if I bought a ticket now, I'd not be seated next to them.
Then, a lifeline appeared. The younger one said her boyfriend was supposed to be going, but he might not, as he was thinking about going away for the evening. She complained that she'd already bought his ticket. Quicker than you could say, "pushy American," I shouted out, "if he won't go, I'll go." Now, I had no expectation that my offer would be taken seriously, but the young one said she would call me if he decided not to go. She took my mobile number. The film they were going to see was "Pirates of the Caribbean III." I admitted I hadn't seen II yet. The young one informed me that Pirates II is available on Sky Box Office, on pay-per-view. In theory, I could go home, watch II, then go with them to see III. They are going to the 10PM show. This was getting expensive.
For the next few hours, I thought excitedly about the prospects for this evening. I hadn't been to a movie since I went to see, "Curse of the Golden Flower," with Tom. and I hadn't been with a group in years. Then, around two in the afternoon, the young one walked into the plate room, where I was working. She told me that her boyfriend had decided to go after all. All of the sudden, I was out on my tushy! I had been struggling with discomfort, because I wanted to go back to the pub I went to last Friday night, but I also wanted to go to the cinema. Now, I had no prospects of either. To make matters worse, after I got home, Nando went out for the evening. The Austrian psycho has shut himself in his room again and I'm all on my own. I've gone from a full social calendar to having nothing to do, in the blink of an eye. There's not even anything good on TV. I guess I'll watch a DVD.

A Tale of Three Auditions

Last Sunday night, I had an audition for a new, original play, which is to be performed in northwest London, at the end of this month. This was the first audition I have had for theatrical acting in twenty-one years. I only received the script early on Friday morning. I felt unsure how to prepare. I tried contacting Bill Buckley, the LBC radio presenter (97.3 FM, London), because he's experienced in such matters and has been helpful to me before. Unfortunately, Bill was away that weekend. I wasn't too worried about not getting the part, I just didn't want to make a fool out of myself during the audition process. Not having the benefit of formal training in drama, I am usually fine with film and television auditions. This was different. This was theatre and I would be facing people who had training and experience.
I arrived at the location for the audition early. Sitting in my car, I went over the script as much as I could. When it was close to my call time, I went inside. I found one woman waiting, ahead of me. There was already one hopeful inside and we could hear him through the closed door. Things seemed to be running late. The woman ahead of me seemed impatient and kept looking at her watch, then tutting. Soon, it was her turn. I move up a seat and sat next to the door to the room the auditions were taking place in. Remaining quiet, I could make out little snippets of what was being said inside. I strained to pick up any clue as to what I would face in the room. In due course, another person showed up. He looked like his family was from southwest Asia. We made small talk until it was my turn.
Inside the room, I was introduced to the playwright and the director. They put me at ease and offered me a drink of water, or orange juice. I can have water at home, so I selected the orange juice. I read for my part twice, with the director and the playwright joining in. The second time they asked me to attempt a Welsh accent. Oh dear! That seemed a bit difficult. The audition seemed to go well and they said they'd let me know the next day. I walked out hopeful, but the next day, my hopes were dashed.
I had a busy audition week lined up. Tuesday evening, I was scheduled to audition for a short film. More keen to get the film role, I tried hard to prepare. Nothing prepared me for what happened. I never made it to the audition, as I was admitted to the hospital that morning (see "Going to the Hospital," Wednesday 9, May, 2007). After spending the night in the hospital, I managed to get out the next day. I tried contacting the casting person for the film, to see if I could audition on a different day, but she informed me that the role was already filled.
I had one more chance and that was on Wednesday night. There was a comedy talent search being held, in London. Once I arrived home from the hospital, I had a nap, then showered. I felt better and headed into central London. At the venue, I discovered there were close to 100 hopefuls signed up to perform. I added my name to the list, then began to prepare myself mentally. There was no audience, other than the people waiting their turn to perform, a camera crew, and some industry professionals, acting as judges. We were allotted three minutes each. Getting a laugh out of this crowd would be an achievement. Because I arrived a little late, I wasn't performing until the end of the night. The advantage in this was I got to listen to the majority before it was my turn.
After we performed, we learned that there was a prize for the "winner." One winner was selected from the female and one from the male. I won't keep you in suspense, I didn't win. At least I got some laughs. Trying to be objective, I decided that I had probably been in the top third. The winners were given a £500 production budget, each. Surely the talent search wasn't a means just to pass out those two modest prizes? I drove home with a spark of hope. I had been required to leave my contact details, in case the production company wanted to contact me in the future. So far, no call, but you never know.

Attending the World Premier

On Friday night, I attended the world premier of a short film, "Traffic WARden," which I have a small part in. The Premier was held at the British Academy of Film and Television Arts (BAFTA) headquarters, in London. This film was basically a showcase for director, Benjamin Johns, and actor/writer, Steve Hart, but they let me be in it too and I got a credit, so that's cool. I invited my artist friend, Jan, to go with me and she graciously agreed to drive, and to bring her camera.
When we arrived, we compromised on seats in the second row of the auditorium. It would be my first time seeing myself in a film at a cinema, rather than on DVD, at home. While waiting for things to commence, I stood up and looked back over the auditorium, trying to see if I could spot any actors I know. I managed to locate one and we gave each other a visual acknowledgement. After continuing to look for a few minutes, some strange man, several rows back, shouted for me to sit down. Why he shouted this is beyond me, as nothing was happening behind me, so I was blocking his view of a blank screen and an empty stage. Pretending not to understand what he was shouting, I waved back at him, as if waving "hello" to a friend. This confused him enough that he didn't say anything else and I, having tired of scanning the audience, sat down.
In the days leading up to this event, I had fretted over what to wear. The invitations hadn't specified a dress code, but as this was my first such event, I didn't know what the protocol was. The start time was 5:30PM, a little early for formal evening wear. I opted to wear a black suit. When discussing it with Jan, I urged her to go for something a little smarter than denim. Ironically, she chose black, as well. I needn't have worried, as the majority of attendees were dressed quite casually. When proceedings commenced, a woman walked on stage in a short evening dress. I was pleased to see that someone else had bothered to dress smartly. Employing a microphone, this woman introduced the film and asked us to remain seated after it ended, as there would be a presentation by the film makers. She spoke with a heavy, foreign accent and I wondered where she was from.
The film was better than the other short I did, although I had a bigger part in that one. This one was longer, running for about twenty minutes. I was surprised to spot my friend, Dave Lee, in a scene. I didn't know he'd worked on the film, as he shot his scene on a different day to the one I did. Eventually, I spotted myself in two scenes, although in the second, you really had to know what to look for, as my back was to the camera. All too soon, it was over and I scanned the credits for my name. Once I found it, I was a bit happier. Benjamin Johns and Steve Hart made their presentation, after the film, then we were all invited to move to the David Lean Room, for drinks. Drinks we had to pay for.
Jan offered to buy me one drink. At the bar, Jan ordered white wine, while I opted for lager. For some reason, they only had Japanese lager. Maybe the manager was Japanese, or something. This is the first time I can recall having a Kirin beer, but then my memory isn't what it once was. I think we were both stunned when the tab came to £8. We wouldn't be having any more drinks, there. We stood in a central location, while I looked for any recognizable faces. Jan suggested that we go up to some strangers and start talking to them. Me being more reserved than she, that idea horrified me. Suddenly, the point became moot. Two women walked up who recognized me. The shorter of the two I knew as "Toxic Bunny," from the "Big Brother" Forum. She had worked on the same day of shooting I had and had recognized my voice then, having heard me on LBC Radio. I was very pleased to see her again, but I couldn't remember her name. I couldn't even remember her internet name, "Toxic Bunny," at first, so, I stood there for an awkward moment, not making introductions. Jan was wondering why I wouldn't introduce her, while I was desperately trying to remember the girl's name. In the end, I think I introduced Jan, then just remained silent, while Toxic Bunny introduced herself. Even now, I can't remember the name she gave. The woman with Toxic I had also met during filming, although I hadn't recognized her at first. Toxic Bunny is a pretty, young, short, dark skinned woman, who looks even younger than she is. She always seems to wear her hair in pig tails, which probably adds to the impression of youth. After a brief conversation, Toxic and her companion went off to search for Judith, a model who had worked with us on the film. I hadn't seen any sign of Judith, but asked Toxic to let me know if she found her.
Jan and I moved around, aimlessly, as I eyed the crowd. A curly haired man approached me. He recognized me from somewhere. Oh, we had worked together on "Seconds From Disaster," last year. He gave me his card and now I know his name is Andrew. In time, we spotted Toxic sitting on a window sill, with her friend and Judith. I led us over to the trio of young women. I was pleased to see Judith again. She and I had subsequently worked on another, feature length, film, "Oh Happy Day," after doing "Traffic WARden." Although Judith primarily works as a model, she does some acting as well. Judith is much taller than Toxic Bunny and was wearing a red dress that stood out against her chocolate brown skin. Originally from Uganda, Judith now makes her home in London. I sat down between Judith and Toxic, while Jan sat on Judith's other side. Judith had said she wanted my number when we did "Oh Happy Day," but when filming wrapped for the day, we got separated and hadn't managed to exchange details. This time, Judith handed me her card, so we could keep in touch. I spoke with Toxic for a time, while Jan and Judith talked. When I turned around, I discovered that, somehow, Jan and Judith had managed to get into conversation with the woman who had presented the screening. It turned out she was the director's wife. I couldn't resist the opportunity to ask where she was from. To my surprise, she told me she was from Mexico. Another North American. Looking at her dress close up, I decided it wasn't a good color for her. It was beige and too close to the color of her skin.
It finally occurred to me that I hadn't seen any sign of Jan's camera. I asked her if she had remembered to bring it. She had and proceeded to fish it out of her bag. Jan took a photo of me sitting amongst the girls. Sadly, the director's wife had moved off by this point. A man appeared in front of me, who acted like he recognized me. I couldn't place him at all. Lurking behind him was a blond woman, who looked like she was with him. I tried to place the two of them, but drew a blank. Then he said something that gave it away. He'd been in "Oh Happy Day" with me. The lurking woman was his wife. I didn't recognize her, because she hadn't been there when I met him. I still can't remember his name and he didn't mention it on Friday. His wife had a camera in her hands and asked me to take a picture of her and her husband in front of this giant mask. I tried to talk my way out of it, suggesting Jan, but this woman insisted that I would be fine. I hate being responsible for taking other people's pictures. I did the best I could with their digital camera. Then she insisted on taking a picture of me and Jan in front of the poxy mask thingy. Jan and the guy's wife then started to take photos of me and the guy. I called Andrew over and had him join in. All the flashes of cameras were starting to make this seem like a real premier.

As the crowd started to wind down, the director announced that anyone who wanted to could join in on moving the party to a nearby location; a bar at Waterstone's book store. Our only problem is that we had left Jan's car parked in a location where we could only stay for three hours. We decided to go get the car and move it closer, now that it was after 6:30, and some street parking was free. By the time we got to Waterstone's, everyone I knew had left. I got Jan and myself a drink of water, each. There was an inner circle of people hanging around with the director. I hoped his wife would notice us. If we could get talking to her again, she might pull us into the inner circle group. This failed to happen and Jan started complaining that she was hungry. I suggested a cheap buffet I have passed a few times, in Chinatown. Jan agreed, saying she didn't want to spend a lot of money. We walked from Waterstone's, through Piccadilly Circus, towards Leicester Square. Turning up Wardour Street, I found the place I was looking for.
The restaurant is called Mr Wu Chinese Restaurant. It features an all-you-can-eat buffet for £4.95. It's a small place with a limited buffet, but the food is hot and tasty. Where else can you find a hot meal in the West End of London for such a low price, without eating fast food? I wanted to pay for dinner, to balance out for the £8 drinks tab that Jan paid. However, upon arrival, I quickly spotted a sign that said no cards. Pointing this out to Jan, I asked if she wanted to find somewhere else. She said it was okay and I could owe her. Chinese restaurants always remind me of my evil ex-wife, the Black Queen, because she was half Chinese. She loved eating in Chinatown and referred to Chinese cuisine as, "real food." I eyed up the Chinese waitresses with suspicion. We were seated, then started on the buffet. I was surprised at how much she ate, as Jan's so small. She's about 5' 2" and a half, and thin, but she made a sizable impact on that buffet. As we both struggled to finish the last of our meal, a commotion broke out. I heard the owner shout at a couple of Indian men, saying, "I'm not in a good mood today, so get out!" The bigger of the two Indians said he was going to complain. The owner responded by saying, "go ahead, complain to whoever you want. Complain to Tony Blair. Complain to George Bush, if you want. Now, get out." When the Indian men were at the door, I herd what sounded like shoving. I wondered what the disturbance had been about. Speaking to the owner as we paid the bill, he explained that the men had refused to sit at the table he had directed them to sit at. Instead, they tried to sit at a table that was already taken, but whose occupants were up at the buffet. When the owner directed them to move, they started arguing with him. He said, "I sell cheap food, so get a lot of trouble." I was impressed. A full meal and a floor show, all for less than £10. Mr Wu is at 28 Wardour Street, London W1D 6QN. If you go there, just make sure you sit where they tell you.

An Election Night Without Nando

Nando arrived home sometime after I did. From my seat at my computer, I can look out over the street in front of our house. I heard the front door open and close, then I looked out and saw Nando's car. It doesn't take Sherlock Homes to figure out that it was likely that Nando just walked in the house. I set my alarm and went to sleep, trusting on technology to wake me in time for "Eastenders." When the alarm went off, I noticed that I had set it for 7:30PM, instead of 7:25. I usually give myself five minutes to get up, get dressed, and arrange myself in front of the tele. This time, I had forgotten. I struggled to put my pajamas on. Am I the only person in the world who wears pajamas almost everywhere, except to bed? The only time I wear pajamas to bed is when it's really cold, like in the dead of winter. The rest of the time , I prefer to sleep with nothing on, wearing pajamas around the house, so as not to subject my housemates to unnecessary nudity. This evening, I managed to end up with my pajama bottoms on inside out. What utter frustration! After getting them turned right side out, I hurried downstairs. I was missing my favorite soap opera.
To my surprise, I found the lounge empty and quiet. The TV was off. Nando rarely missed "Eastenders," except to watch football, or if he had to work. I looked out the window and noticed his car was gone. Where the bloody hell did he go? I hurriedly employed the two remote controls it takes to turn on our tele and my Sky box. Once "Eastenders" was on, I calmed down and relaxed on the settee I usually recline on. I wasn't pleased to discover I'd missed seven minutes of the program. How did that happen? Surely, it didn't take that long to sort my pajamas out? Later, I discovered the clock on my mobile, whose alarm I employ, was four minutes slow.
After "Eastenders" finished, I looked on the TV menu to decide what I would watch at 8PM. Checking the week's premiers, on Sky Movies, I noticed a film entitled, "Rumor Has It." I had never heard of it. All the other films starting then I had seen already. Checking the information on "Rumor Has It," I noted that it stars Jennifer Aniston. Who likes Jennifer Aniston more than me? No one, I'm sure. Kevin Costner is in it too. He's okay. Shirley MacLaine, she has her moments. Still undecided, I looked through everything else on that night, on all the channels I usually watch. Nothing else looked appealing. I decided to give "Rumor Has It" a try. As the film started, I took advantage of my free landline calls after 8 and called my artist friend, Jan. She is accompanying me to the world premier of "Traffic WARden," tomorrow evening. I wanted to coordinate where we are meeting tomorrow. Once that was settled, I told Jan that I was watching Jennifer Aniston. We discussed Jennifer's looks. As she appeared in a close up, on screen, I exclaimed, "what an interesting neck she has!"
Over the phone, Jan said, "it's long."
"How do you know?" I asked? "You're not watching." Jan remembered from seeing Jennifer play Rachel, on "Friends." Jan's artist's eye often makes note of the physical details of a person's appearance. "Jennifer Aniston is very beautiful, but in an unusual sort of way," I said.
"She looks vulnerable," Jan explains.
Vulnerable hadn't occurred to me. "Her eyes are close together," I counter," and her nose is a bit on the big side. And she has such lovely hair." After a pause, "I prefer her to Angelina Jolie" Brad Pitt and I differ on at least that point. Changing the subject, I ask Jan, "what should I blog about, tonight?" Most of my friends are probably sick of that question. I'm sure all of the ones I speak to regularly have endured that question several times.
"Jennifer Aniston," Jan suggested.
"No, I can't do that," I reply. "I don't have anything appropriate to say about her. Besides, she's one of my friends on Myspace and she could end up reading it." After a brief interlude, where I paid attention to the film, I went off on a different tangent. "Anything's better than that May Day crap I wrote, the other night."
"I thought it was funny," Jan countered.
"You would say that." I think Jan's biased in my favor. "It seemed to be all over the place and didn't have much point."
"I think the point is that you don't like to work."
"It felt like some pointless blob I spat out onto the screen." I'm my own worst critic. "I've read some blogs out there that are absolute rubbish. Some people's blogs are absolute crap. Some write a sentence, then post a picture. Then another sentence followed by another picture. It's so juvenile. It's like reading a Dr. fucking Seuss book, without the rhyming." Jan laughed heartily. "You remind me of the Hungarian woman I worked with at the studios, last week. She would have laughed at that. I think you two would like each other. You would really get along."
Jan agreed and her laughter subsided, gradually, like a house settling onto its foundations. "I didn't even get shortlisted for that Best of British Blog awards. You know what beat me out to win the Weird and Wonderful category? A blog about chickens. A webcam in a hen house. I don't even get shortlisted and a webcam in a hen house wins." I was on a roll. I suppose I felt a little like the way Jennifer Aniston felt when Brad Pitt left her to be with Angelina.
"What's popular is never what's good," Jan said, trying to comfort me.
"I don't get shortlisted and some bloody chickens win. How interesting can chickens be? I don't think enough of you nominated me," I stated.
"I did," Jan replies, a little too quickly.
"Not enough people did, I bet." After a long pause, I realized that I was no closer to finding a blog topic and I had totally lost the plot of the film. Jan and I ended the conversation and I tried to catch on to what happened in the film. It was no use. Then it occurred to me that the film is restarting at 9PM. I set the TV to the appropriate channel and went upstairs. I figured I could mess around on the computer till the film restarts.
While I was surfing the net, the doorbell suddenly rang. Who the heck could it have been? Reluctantly, I ran downstairs to open the door. There was a time when I would open the door to find the Exotic Flower standing there. That time is no more. Besides, the Flower always knocked. She never rang the bell. I never did find out why. Upon opening the door, I was confronted by an unattractive, old woman. I wondered what she wanted.
"We're coming round to remind you that the polls are still open, if you were planning to use your vote," the old crone said. We're? She was all on her own. What does she have, multiple personality disorder, or something?
"I'm foreign and even if I could vote, I wouldn't," I explained, barely containing my contempt. To be disturbed over something as rubbish as politics. Oh for Pete's sake! Possibly sensing that she wasn't going to get anywhere with me, the old woman turned to go. I couldn't shut the door quick enough. I had forgotten it was election day, in the UK.
At 9PM, I sat back down to try watching "Rumor Has It," again. Without distractions, I found it funny and entertaining. Kevin Costner plays a man who has had sex with Jennifer Aniston's character's mother and grandmother. He caps that off by having sex with Aniston's character as well. Now that's entertainment! Shirley MacLaine is funny in it, as well. Some critics panned it, but I thought it was quite enjoyable. Near the end, Nando walked in. He'd been working. When I told him how much I'd been enjoying the film, he said he'd put it on for 15 minutes, the other night, and switched it off. Nando doesn't have much patience for comedies. "This film's too subtle for you," I explained to him. I had gone through some trials and tribulations on an election night without Nando around.

World Premier

I have been invited to attend the world premier screening of a short film I am in, this Friday. Entitled "Traffic WARden," the premier will take place at the British Academy of Film and Television Arts (BAFTA), in London. "Traffic WARden" was written by Steve Hart and Benjamin Johns, and directed by Benjamin Johns. Would it surprise you if I said it starred Steve Hart? Okay, well along with starring Steve Hart, it also stars Clint Dyer and Sarah Ozeke. I don't think it would be giving too much of the plot away to say that the film deals with that omnipresent feature of totalitarian Britain, the traffic warden. For those of you not familiar with British life, a traffic warden is that scum sucking, bottom dweller of a parasite, who makes his or her living preying upon his fellow man, writing parking tickets. I am sure there is a special place reserved for them on the seventh level of hell, along with tax collectors. Why anyone would want to engage in such a despicable pursuit is beyond me, but I suppose it enables those who haven't got the balls to join the military, or become a police officers, to ponce about in a uniform.
Originally, I was sent an invitation for myself only, but yesterday, I received an updated invitation, which says I can bring a guest. This precipitated that time honored undertaking, selecting someone to take with me. Checking the social calendars of the numerous celebrities with whom I am acquainted, I quickly ruled out Jennifer Anniston, Abi Titmuss, Mel B of the Spice Girls, Vanessa from Big Brother, 2005, or the Duchess of York, Sarah Ferguson. I didn't bother asking Opal Bonfante this time, because she'd have just said no. However, sticking to Opal's advice, I decided to ask someone who's helped me in some way. I decided not to invite Tom, this time, as he got to go with me to my last freebie, the preview of "Curse of the Golden Flower" (see "Collecting My Prize," 12 April, 2007). Besides, Tom lives on the opposite side of London from me and I will be pressed for time to get to the premier after work. I decided to invite my artist friend, Jan. Last month, she treated me to an evening of theatre, so it seemed fair to return the favor. Besides, she lives near me and is willing to drive. So you see, those of you who do me favors may get your reward in this life, rather than in the next. The ironic thing in all of this is that the Duchess of York is the same age as me and we are both divorced. Also, I am not intimidated by who she is and the media attention she gets. Sarah, call me.