Airplane Bloggin’: Up In The Air Edition

Well, ok, so not necessarily the most specific title for a series called Airplane Bloggin’, but it is timely, no? I actually haven’t seen the movie so I don’t even really have a basis for any type of analogy. Hey, maybe I’ll get more hits on the site because of my use of Jason’s movie title.

We are on our way back from the Dances. Spent from Thursday night to this morning in Park City, and I have some observations.

1. We met with the writers from the next Slamdance horror winner. Cool guys (as well as good writers). We met with Brandon, head of the contest. Cool guy as well. Got a chilly reception (at best) from the boss, but that was expected. What can you do – I’m over it.
2. We had a place up on Woodside – and when I say up, I mean up. Woodside towers a few hundred feet over Main St. and the cabs couldn’t even get up the hill if it was snowing. A good amount of walking, and huffing and puffing, up the steps to our street, given the altitude as well. By the end though, it was fairly easy – I guess one’s body adjusts fairly well to the altitude in a short time.
3. I still have standards. Had a lay-up pickup yesterday at the gersh party at the Spur. Some drunken Salt Lake native. Physically appealing enough, but personality was a bit scary. I passed, even after she started making out with one of her girlfriends. (Guys, begin moaning wtf now).
4. I literally was in the same condo building as my friend, actress and writer Eleonore Hendricks and we knew it for three days and we didn’t manage to meet up though I sincerely believe both of us wanted to say hi.
5. The Indie movie scene is dying. That’s it for that.
6. I’m kind of over the whole Park City thing. I mean, I really like the place, geographically. But the hubbub of the festivals – I was so ready to get on our plane and go back home this morning. And this isn’t just because I was sleeping on one of the all-time worst pull-out couches in our condo living room, though that didn’t help. Thing felt like a bbq grill without the heat.
7. Agents (including sales agents) will always be agents. Scorpion and the Frog.
8. Adrienne Grenier is a nice guy, in a shaggy dog sort of way, and I mean that in a positive way. And he made a pretty good documentary.
9. Wilmer Valderama has a good handshake.
10. America Ferrara is even shorter then you though she was.
11. Ben Silverman is taller and even more hyper than you think he is.
12. Screaming at someone on the phone on Main Street at 2:30 Am is a good way to get frostbite.

That’s kinda it. E7 didn’t buy anything at the festival (though we might). We were negotiating two deals, one is going to close and the other one looks like it won’t. The best party I went to was for Dry Land. Gersh was runner up (and I also got several cute girls’ phone numbers). The worst party was Slamdances’ party at the Star Bar (too crowded, and hot, and bad ratio, and the weather outside made it such a slosh to get in). I only saw one movie. But I got to see some folks I rarely get to see, meet some new peeps, some who were very fun, and now I get to sleep in my own bed.

Grumps.

Winners, 13th NYC PictureStart Film Festival, June 14-5, 2009

Jury Awards

Best Short Film
Winner, Lost Paradise, Oded Binnun, Mihal Brezis
1st Runner Up, Kweisi, David Sauvage
2nd Runner Up, Refrigerator, Jim Revis

Best Actor
Winner, Kweisi, Kweisi
1st Runner Up, Sodom by the Sea, Mike Cianflone
2nd Runner Up, Lost Paradise, Moris Cohen

Best Actress
Winner, Emma’s 18th Birthday Party, Ching Shen Chang
1st Runner Up, Lost Paradise, Rotem Cohen-Zisman
2nd Runner Up, The Gynaecologist, Camila Bossa

Cinematography
Winner, Emma’s 18th Birthday Party
1st Runner Up, Lost Paradise
2nd Runner Up, Baby Boots, Aaron Munson

Special Jury Award
Baby Boots, Hans Olsen

Best Short Screenplay
Sonny, Julian Stephenson


Audience Awards

Best Short Film
Winner, Refrigerator, Jim Revis
1st Runner Up, Stay True Darling, James Morrison
2nd Runner Up, Trunk, Annie Feld

Best Actor
Winner, Refrigerator, Simon Sorrells
1st Runner Up, Trunk, Steve Smith
2nd Runner Up, Lost Paradise, Moris Cohen

Best Actress
Winner, Stay True Darling, Ellen Cunningham
1st Runner Up, Refrigerator, Alyson Weaver
2nd Runner Up, April Day And Night, Dana Hunter

S Bar

On Hollywood Blvd., right next to Katsuya on the corner of Vine. S Bar is one of the coolest looking places I've been in LA. Its really just a high ceilinged box, with some couches and chairs. However, bringing in Philippe Starck to design the place, where the "S" stands for Satan (no, not mike ovitz), was worthwhile.

Ended up there after a spot at dominicks by the beverly center, which was unusually quiet. I was with a friend from NYC, Inna, and we stopped by the Stone Rose, and I was incredulously turned away. I've been there Wednesday after Wednesday, but I didn't call ahead and Bret Gursky, who runs the party, was nowhere near the door. I didn't feel like waiting for him to show up, so i just moved on.

We met Katie, Ki-Moon, Hill and some other folks at this S Bar place, which I'd heard about but never been to. Dave Navarro was partying at the next table with a bevy of babes, presumably getting over Carmen. Each wall had a concept - over the bar was an Omen-ish four horsemen of the apocalypes photo, four white horses looking frothy and angry. The south wall had a Hotel California motif, endless hotel doors opening one after another, into infinity. All the lamps in the place hang from the ceiling, upside down. Its a very unnerving thing when you first realize it.

I liked it, what can i say. Doesn't make me a devil worshipper. Unfortunately, the cel phone camera doesn't have a very good flash, so the better pics of the murals are ripped offline. anyway, have a looksie.




HOTEL CALIFORNIA MURAL


KI MOON AND INNA
THE INDEFATIGABLE KATIE MATTHEWS

Just Along for the Ride.

Went out last night with some friends, Chase and Marie and Sha-hid. We were at the rapily declining Les Deux, it was very young and high school, maybe college aged. We had fun unto ourselves, but the place seems done.

Anyway, a friend, Ari was outside, trying to get in, so Chase went out to try to get him in. Things got confused and we thought Chase and Ari had rolled to Winstons. Chase’s phone was dead so we couldn’t reach him. Turns out that Ari had rolled to Winstons and that Chase ended up being left behind. I thought Ari told me that they were together but the club was loud and I must have misheard. So upon getting to Winston’s and seeing no Chase, we immediately left back to Les Deux to go look for him.

Now, Chase and crew had been out since 2PM (I joined them at 1030 or so) so they were, shall we say, well on their way. Chase went back in the club, couldn’t find us, got pissed off that we bounced on him and left him before we got back to Les Deux, perhaps forty minutes after we left. He had already gotten a cab home, was cranky, etc. I was the only sober one in the bunch, so I drove the others back to Chase’s place. We got there, squared stories, dealt with Chase’s crankiness with some herbicological assistance (is that a word) and then I want to go home. By this time, it was 4AM. I had no cash, but called a cab and requested one that could accept a credit card.

While I was in the cab, I found a purse of a young lady. A phone. A digital camera. Thirty dollars wadded in a corner. Nothing else. I called her entry “Home”, spoke to her mom, who much have tracked her down. The girl called me forty minutes later. Her name is Candice.

Candice thanked me for finding her purse and offering to return it. She then told me where she was and asked me to meet her at the Roosevelt hotel, where its clear she is drunk, again. In fact, on the phone of a friend, Ahmed, whose name she had to ask (so maybe they just met), I heard her say to a girlfriend, I cannot believe I am drunk again. It was perhaps 1:30PM.

I don’t know whether I was more taken aback by the fact that this girl was drunk again, with a strange dude, or that she was presumptuous enough to ask me to deliver her purse to her instead of coming to get it on her own. She did confide that none of her group was sober, which was why she asked me to deliver it to her. Fair enough, at least she is being responsible enough not to ask Ahmed to drive drunk.

Anyway, this is just a little slice of life, and while I like LA, this is so typically Los Angeles (the girl is from a suburb called Gardenia, her mother told me when we talked). Its one of the things that does annoy me about this town, and perhaps something that scares me about the generation that follows mine.

Of course, my generation was the one that had these folks drinking from 2PM on a Saturday through the nite, and they drove to the club. I was a sober participant, just along for the ride.

Grumps

UPDATE:
Went to drop off the wallet at the Roosevelt hotel, and Candice came out to meet me. She was in all respects very gracious and appreciative. Perhaps we're not all doomed to anything worse than being frequently inebriated.

Free Drinks

A lazy Saturday afternoon. I am watching the Lord of the Rings for the umpteenth time. Its background noise, except for the annoying commercials. I cancelled all the premium cable channels yesterday, and so I am watching network stuff and basic cable.

Went out again last night. I hadn’t expected to go out, but then there I was, getting dressed and tromping down to the subway to meet some friends in the 20s. We met at a strip club, but stayed only momentarily whilst the group assembled. One of the guys in the group owns the club, Tens, and so we got together there to meet.

I was connected to the group through my friend Yuson, who is town because he’s a talent manager for Columbus Short, who I’ve spent some evenings out with in LA. Columbus was the lead in the movie “Stomp The Yard,” and has a bunch more coming out. He came out, with his co-star Jeffrey Wright, the amazing actor who is in tons of movies, like Syriana and recently, Casino Royale as Felix Leiter. They are both working on the same movie. Jeffrey lives here though. We’d never met, but he seems to be a good guy as well. Certainly no airs about him.

Assembled, I had made arrangements because of our celebrity companions to have comped table and bottle service at Marquee, which is a New York nightspot. We first headed over to Kiss and Fly, making the second time this week I’d been there. Jeffrey knew one of the managers, Randy, who is an icon on the New York club scene. I’d met Randy through my friend Ryan, who is my oft club companion, and who had arranged our table for us at Marquee.

Kiss and Fly was OK, though and they kept bringing bottles of champagne. Now I always think about New York being expensive and Los Angeles being cheap, on a relative basis. But actually, I always forget to factor in how rarely I pay for drinks in New York. Since I am currently on a pretty tight budget, I think about these things. But it occurred to me last night that I’ve been out, pretty hardcore, twice this week, and haven’t spent a cent on drinks. Which is nice, no?

Anyway, we lasted at Kiss and Fly for a few hours, I chatted with some ladies (a Charlotte from Norway, and a Flavia from Brazil, by way of Miami, cha cha cha). Got a message from Ryan that Marquee wasn’t worth the trip, but that he would meet us at The Box instead if we wanted to. But Jeffrey and Columbus wanted to go to Bungalow 8, so we headed north out of the Meatpacking district upto 27th street. They knew these folks at the door, so despite being very guy heavy, it wasn’t a problem (being with movie stars helps I guess).

More free drinks would be forthcoming at Bungalow, but frankly, I wasn’t into it. I’d had enough, and drinking at four AM pretty much makes me think that I would just be adding to my potential hangover. So I made my stay brief, said my goodbyes, and made my way home after an evening’s free entertainment.

If only I could get the cabs for free now. Hmmm.

Club

I’ve been going to clubs for over twenty years in New York. When I was young, I would head into Manhattan with high school friends from Queens, and we’d go to the Tunnel, to the Palladium, to MK and to the Underground, among others. I had this Willi Wear suit that my brother had given me, I’d slick my hair back and don a tie, and tell everyone that I was 23. I was 16. I never needed ID, because one of my friends was a promoter and everyone thought he was 25 (he was 16 too).

Last night, I went to the newest incarnation of the New York club scene, the very exclusive 1Oak, which is a pseudo-acronym for One of a Kind. It’s a kind of a super-club, having been created in partnership by some of NY’s biggest club promoters, the guys who own Butter among them.

We were out for my friend Ryan’s birthday. Going out with Ryan typically is a good time, because (1) he is always in a group of a few guys and a dozen or more beautiful women, and (2) because of his relationships at these clubs, like 1Oak (which is supposed to be the hardest door in NYC), we rarely if ever pay for a drink. I’d met him a bit earlier at Bagatelle, in the Meatpacking district for a dinner for his birthday with perhaps ten or twelve friends. After some drinks (I didn’t eat but it looked tasty), we stopped by Kiss and Fly (which occupies the old Aer space) next door, having been escorted through the Bagatelle kitchen (Goodfellas Henry Hill style) and through a door that led into the club from the restaurant (next door) to the KNF VIP area. We guzzled some Veuve Clicquot for half an hour, and then were out the door and over to 1OAK. In tow at this point, jammed in a few cabs, were perhaps five guys, maybe ten or fifteen girls, and a huge mammoth of a fellow that turned out to be Michael Olowakandi, former NBA center and number one draft pick. I didn’t let him know that he’d been a bust pick for me in a fantasy league years back. Doubt he would have been interested. Nice guy though.

We met a bunch more people inside 1OAK, and went to a table next to the DJ booth. There was more champagne, more women and some very good spinning going on. It was one thirty when we got these, we didn’t leave til perhaps four fifteen, and after some drama, I didn’t get home til five forty five AM or so. Outside of the enormous Michael O. and a little end of the night fisticuffs (which I helped break-up), the night was pretty standard. The place is nicer looking that many clubs, more interesting design-wise, but like I said, I've pretty much seen it all over the last twenty years or so. But its really all about the crowd, and beautiful russian models sitting on my lap and asking me if I mind. This place did fine with both, so I was OK.

I have to admit I am a little worn out today, and depending on her schedule, I may be meeting a photographer, D, who I’d met last weekend out at Sway, tonight for a drink (she has an opening so it’s a play it by ear thing for tonight). I like her fine, but I think I’d be just peachy to meet up over the weekend instead.

Nice to be back in NY, at least for a bit.

"My Brother" at the 2008 Image Awards

We won.

No we didn’t. But hey, at least we were nominated. John Sayles’ Honeydripper, which I haven’t seen, won the Best Indie Film Award. I am totally cool with losing to John Sayles.

The Awards were fun, and long. We did the red carpet (myself, and the four main cast members other than Vanessa). Did a few interviews, like Extra. Don’t know if they’ll be anywhere online.

Night before, at the party, got to hang with Vanessa for a while and catch up. She stayed for a while, usually she makes an appearance and she’s gone.

At the Awards themselves, the crowd was pretty stacked : Denzel (won twice), Vanessa (won), America Ferrara (won), Tyler Perry, bunches of famous folks. And the honorees were Stevie Wonder, who performed, Aretha Franklin and Ruby Dee. Quite cool.

But by the afterparty, I was a little tired of being in the Tux. I stayed for an hour or two at the Beverly Hills Hilton (which was quite a drive from the Shrine Auditorium which is way south and east of Beverly Hills).

Anyway, I am parablogging, which means that this is perfunctory and not a great post. Sorry bout that. Here's a pic of Christopher Scott and I from the afterparty.

Harry-Os and Gavin

Been in town for a few days, and quite frankly, its been quite amazing.

The condo that the VidShadow guys booked for the trip is gorgeous. Its not quite walking distance to Main St. but it’s a very short trip to town by car, from Deer Valley North, where we are, maybe just five minutes.

I drank wine on Wednesday night after getting here, and hung back while the rest of the crew went out to Harry-O’s and saw LL Cool J. I am from Queens, like LL, so while I can respect that, I didn’t feel much of a loss. I only had two hours of sleep before getting on an early flight Wed morning so staying home and getting a solid nine was a good idea. Even if the revelers came back at two AM and started yelling my name and pounding on my door. I hid and went back to sleep.

Yesterday. Different story.

After doing some work in the morning, we headed to Star Café to see some music. It was a Sundance pass only thing, and huge lines, but Cheri got us on the ASCAP list and we walked right in. Once I get in there, I see my friend, Gavin DeGraw (he does that “I dont wanna be” that is the theme from One Tree Hill or something like that, I can never remember). I know Gavin a bit from NY because he’s close friends with Joe Coots. I say hi, and after he finished his set, he hangs with us. We were waiting for hours because of the rumor that Crosby Stills Nash and Young were gonna play – Neil Young eventually did show up, but only sang backup on my least favorite Neil Young song. It was a little annoying, because I skipped a screening to wait for CSNY and then, well, nothing.

After the music, Gavin came back with us to the condo, and we sat around and bullshitted for a while. He had to bounce to a dinner, and we headed to see a new friend play guitar rock at a little restaurant on Heber, before heading to Harry-O’s again. Harry’s was a mad house, but our group was connected and once again, we walked right in. It felt like Vegas, actually, with the dancing girls and a really great cover band doing every dance tune you can think of.

I danced my feet off for like three hours straight. I haven’t danced like that, that ferociously, for that long, in years. I wasn’t even drinking really, just chugging water because I was really working up a sweat. I was feeling it, no doubt. I think my group was a little taken aback, because I tend to project, shall we say, a reserve.

Late in the evening, Gavin came and met up with us, and hung for a bit before jumpin on stage to do some Al Green, driving the crowd (particularly the women) into an absolute frenzy. We kept it up for another hour or so, at which point I was on pure adrenaline.

And now, the next morning, I feel like I ran a treadmill for fifteen miles. In a good way. Hey, at least I am not hungover.

And the Slamdance awards are tonight.

Grumpy

Scream Awards 2007

So sort of last minute, I got invitations to the Scream Awards and after-party (everything in LA has an afterparty, root canals have after parties). VIP passes which were fun, though it seemed like everyone in the whole place had them, so I guess we were all VIP’s together.

The Scream Awards, which SPIKE TV televises, are for fantasy, sci-fi, and yes, horror. The best of the best. The event itself was a ton of fun. I went with my friend Diana, who somehow managed to look great even though I only got her ticket shortly before the show and she might have had thirty minutes to shower and get ready. She gets points. Also, Cheri from Maverick, and Victor Garcia, our director for Slaughter, made the trek to the Greek Theatre in Griffith Park.

The fans know what they like. Spike TV seems to know what they like too. The show opened with the Hero Awards, a lifetime acheivemnent award given to a genre movie superstar. Shia LeBoef presented to who else, Indiana Jones. Han Solo. Decker. Harrison Ford.

They had a great list of presenters and awardees, like the Jessicas (Alba and Biel), Hayden Panawhawha from Heroes (actually, seemed like the whole cast was there), Sig Haig presented with Danny Trejo, Tarantino and Rodriguez, Rosario Dawson, and when Bruce Campbell came out, the crowd literally went wild. Victor told me that BC is a god to him, the greatest. Victor obviously has good taste.

Ozzie came on and did his Osbourne thing, and then, the true highlight of the show, was Alice Cooper performing Schools Out with Rob Zombie and Slash. Because its LA, bunches of people had left before this finale, and they really missed out. It was kickin’.

Afterparty was fun. The dude who played Michael Meyers in Zombie's Halloween seemed omnipresent, but that may just be because he's a foot taller than everyone else. He is mammoth. I ended up sitting next to Cris Angel and Tommy Lee for a while. I still havent seen Cris Angel perform (I saw Tommy Lee "perform" with a certain star from Baywatch) and I wouldnt have known who he was. The girls at the Roosevelt Hotel seemed to know who he was tho.

Anyway, it was fun.

Now you don’t have to watch it on TV.

Grumps.

Cheebo Blogging: Not Just an Indulgence

(Blogging from the Sunset Blvd restaurant Cheebo, a local favorite. Great salsa).

So a lot of the time, movie stars having rock bands are simple indulgences. A lot of the time, but not all of the time.

I went to hang with my friend Lev and his friend Paul last nite in Santa Monica. Paul is a pretty well known character actor – can play basically anything. He directed a great play in LA this past winter (does LA have a winter?) and he was the studio boss on Entourage last season, the one that booted Adrien Grenier from Aquaman. Anyway, so we hung at Lobster on the Santa Monica pier for a few hours (they have surprisingly amazing food, including kobe beef that was one of the best things I’ve tasted in a long time, for a restaurant that looks like a tourist trap) and then headed to a little benefit in Culver City for the Actor’s Gang, which is some kind of LA-based actors group doing theater.

We got there and paid our ten dollar suggested donation (fyi, donations in LA don’t seem to be suggested, even if they say so, its just an LA way of smilingly asking for money for a ticket, like when a studio exec smiles at your great idea before calling security?). Anyway, we got inside and found seats, and I hear Kate Nelligan and some chubby short dude do some covers of Jefferson Airplane tunes. They seemed to be having a great time, but it wasn’t exactly Grace Slick. Not should it have to be, and they just seemed to be having fun.

But Tim Robbins was lurking stage left. Don’t know if you’ve ever met him, I have a few times, or at least seen him up close, including at Liberty Studios when he was regearsing for the Henry Bean movie, Noise, he shot last year. Anyway, he is tall, like college basketball player tall. And he’s also in Bull Durham, which I love but which is neither here nor there. And he’s grooving off stage, listening.

I walked out after the mini-set of Jeff. Airplan, and then I hear the band start up again. And so when I walk back into this hundred seat theater, Tim Robbins and a band are playing. And I’ll tell you…

He’s pretty damn good. He did a few songs, including some Dylan and some Bob Roberts stuff (for the young and unitiated, Bob Roberts was a movie Robbins did fairly way back about a musician turned presidential candidate who was basically a phony). And he did Jersey Girl, a Springsteen anthem. And all the little actress girls in the Gang got up on stage and grooved like they were from Jersey. It was a lot of fun, he had quite the onstage presence, great delivery and a good voice. The band was tight.

So its not always an indulgence.

I had fun, thanks for asking.

Grumps.

Under the (Rather Temperate) Weather

I used to never get sick. Never. To the point where I was always able to say that I never get sick. I may miss work, but I never missed work because I was sick. I don’t have to miss work anymore because I don’t hate work anymore. I like work. Now I miss work because I am sick. And I am sick.

Now I can work from home, to some degree. It’s a little bit easier to meet with people when I am in the office, and not in pajamas. Though not impossible. I have great feet.

One of the things I’ve been doing from home this weekend is working as a co-producer of the National Board of Review Annual Gala, being held this year at Cipriani. The NBR is the oldest film critics organization in the country, and my biz partner in Angel Baby Entertainment, John Gallagher, has been involved with the NBR for years, having done everything from host screenings to write speeches and co-produce the Gala. Well, this year he’s producing the whole thing, for the first year at Cipriani, and I am lending a hand where I can.

The NBR announces their awards first in the award’s season, rather than announcing nominees.

Here are the 2006 Honorees for the NBR.

Best Film to Clint Eastwood and Steven Spielberg.

Marty Scorsese will be there to pick up Best Director

Best Actress to Helen Mirren.

Best Actor to Forest Whitaker.

Supporting Actor to Djimon Housnou.

Supporting Actress to Catherine O'Hara.

Foreign Film to Pedro Almodovar.

Tipper Gore, Lawrence Bender, Davis Guggenheim for Best Doc – Inconvenient Truth

John Lasseter for Animated Feature Cars

Ensemble Cast to The Departed (incl. Leonardo DiCaprio, Matt Damon, Mark Wahlberg and Vera Formiga)

Breakthrough Actor to Ryan Gosling

Breakthrough Actress Jennifer Hudson

Breakthrough Actress to Rinko Kikuchi

Directorial Debut to Jason Reitman for Thank You For Smoking

Orig Screenplay to Zach Helm for Stranger Than Fiction

Adapted Screenplay to Ron Nyswaner for The Painted Veil

Freedom of Expression to Deepa Mehta for Water and Oliver Stone for World Trade Center

Everson Film History Award to Donald Krim of Kino.

Career Producing to Irwin Winkler

Billy Wilder Award to Jonathan Demme

Career Achievement to Eli Wallach

And Jesse Martin is the MC.

Anyway, it’s a great list of people coming, heads of WB, Universal and Fox, and Scott Rudin as well.

Im going to the doctor Monday, I hope I feel better by Tuesday nite. Gonna be great.

Feelin’ kinda lazy.

I went out last nite to Ultra. My friend and new biz associate Ryan was hangin’ there with a bunch of friends and invited us to come meet him.

Ultra is this chic newish lounge, with the velvet rope, the huge bouncers, and the models, the whole deal. So it’s the shit in NYC, for whatever that is worth to you. I’ve been going to clubs in NYC for the last twenty years, since I was 16 going to Tunnel on the west side on Manhattan, getting chosen in by door men who thought I was a 25 year old investment banker (thank god for Willy Wear suits and limited lighting). So while I do like going out to these new exclusive places (Why not?), I have seen basically everything (except for seeing a topless woman give a lapdance at Cain on Wednesday nite, a first for me to see that in a club).

So I am going out to this ultra hip lounge for drinks and chillin and dancing. Whats the best thing to do first?

Right.

Karaoke.

So I meet my brother Rich and my sister (in town for Thanksgiving this week) at Karaoke 17. Now I used to be a little bit of a karaoke whore, which is the term I use for people who get a little bit too into it. I used to go quite a bit, a few times a month, spend an entire evening belting it out. I even went to karaoke in Bulgaria one nite when I was there recording the score for “My Brother.” I know, ultra cool.

***********************FILM ASIDE*************************************
BTW, I am watching the remake of “When A Stranger Call” and while I think it’s a great premise and I think Camille Belle is sexy as hell and a good actress to boot, and the movie is very well made, I am not quite sure that it cuts the mustard. It just doesn’t pack the punch of the original – she just found out that the Caller is inside the house. And I am just not that spooked. Now I knew it was coming, because I am a fan of the genre and I saw the original last year, when I was prepping for a horror movie that I never ended up making (though it was made with other producers). I watch tons of horror films as a form of instruction when I make one, both to remind me what I think works, and as much, or more, what doesn’t.
It just seems to me that while there isn’t enough here to carry a story for 90 minutes, and I’ll be damned if its readily apparent to me why it worked OK the first time and now, its falling short. I think its just too focused on the one character being traumatized, without interruption, and her breasts just aren’t big enough when she is running around. Did I say that. Im not even a boob guy. Never mind.
It just turned into The Shining, with the dude trying to break down the door to get to her, Not scary. And hes walking after her and the kids are crying kinda goofily. OK, enough about this, I am moving on. But I still love Camille Belle. Total fox (and shes getting all wet in the pond now, hehe- OK, maybe the movie isn’t so bad after all).

*******************************************************************************************************************

So I am at Karaoke, but my voice is really no where near where it was, strength wise. I do a few tunes, Steve Miller Band’s Take the Money, Cheap Trick I Want You, and my standard, Journey Don’t Stop Believin’. Also a little Clapton, some G&R, and Brandy, What A Fine Girl from the Looking Glass.

Haveta say, I haven’t lost it. Kid has still got it.

Went over to Ultra to meet Ryan. He actually told the girl at the door, Mia (I think, you know, you’re typical supermodel with a clipboard who watches to make sure that regular folk cant enter without the grace of someone far cooler, which I may pretend to be, but that’s why they call it pretending) and she said hi when I mentioned his name and then rather than just comping us and letting us in, actually walked us inside and took us to Ryan’s table. I guess I am a big shot now.

The place was fun (places populated by 80 percent women, and a very good looking crowd at that, for some reason tend to be fun, not only for guys but for the women too, because women don’t seem to mind being in groups that are mostly female, as opposed to us guys who dread the sausage party). We drank, danced a bit. Bitter shook her thang and was having a great time with 24 year old boys hitting on her. While Richard had left, Newman had replaced him, meeting us just before we got there. A good time had by all, thanks to Ryan’s seemingly never ending supply of hospitality.

We left at three AM or so, and Ive barely left the bedroom today. I didn’t think I drank that much, but it musta added up. So I’ve been home. Briefly contemplating going out, but I think its one for them, one for me on this Saturday nite, though (I am told) the weather is gawgeous.

Hope you all had a great thanksgiving.


Grumpy

Dis-concert-ing?

I went on a date tonite. We hadn’t been out before, and I am of course going back to California on Friday nite, so there was limited time to get together before I leave for a week or so. Not or so. A week.

Anyway, I don’t think I am going to start blogging about my dating life again. We all have seen where that can lead. Interestingly enough, the person with whom I went out has also seen where it can lead – she used to have a blog about dating in NYC.

How many of these things are out there, anyway? Perhaps I’ll check after posting.

And for anyone who thinks that this isn’t a new person, but that this blogger is someone I have spoken about on here before, you’re wrong. Control your imagination (Dawn). All that is as over as writing about it is. As in, moveonmofo.org.

Thing is about this date, is because of the limited time before I was leaving for Cali, we decided to do something kind of untraditional on a first date (not water sports, Lozo). We went to a rock concert. A good old fashioned rock concert, with loud music.

Now I wondered about this a bit before accepting. A couple of reasons why include, spending 60 bucks on my ticket for a date I might not enjoy, plus food and drink and whatever else; the relative inability to have a conversation during a concert that was sure to be loud (it was); and maybe the most important, did I like this band enough to go to one of their concerts. I am not a huge concert fan, as I am not a huge fan of crowds. I love music, but the vibe of the concert has to be right. Otherwise sometimes I can’t wait for it to be over.

The band, you ask? What band? Alice in Chains, with a new lead singer.

I was overwhelmingly pleasantly surprised by the concert. It was really great, the band put on a great show. I even knew a bunch of songs I wouldn’t have been able to mention had someone asked me to name song by AIC. Some of course, I knew I knew. They were great, the vibe of the crowd was cool. Just nice all around. I think one think that helped the vibe of the place is that their fans are adults, mostly. They began, I am told (my date lived in Seattle for ten years, where she was a college DJ at a big school, so I’ll take her word for it), in the late eighties. As a result, many of their fans are my age or thereabouts (I am 36). So less annoying kid shit at the concert. Very few teens, from what I can see. Just an adult crowd loving a great show put on by a great rock band. It’s a little weird to me that the singer that replaced Len Staley (sp?), who died of a heroin overdose I think, sounds a lot like him. You’d think they guy would want to take a different approach. But, in any case, it worked and they sounded terrific and I highly recommend them, thought tomorrow nites show is sold out, SRO.

So far as the lack of conversation, it was a little bit of an issue, but since we got together before for a bite and there were intermissions etc. I guess not too much of an issue. Still, maybe not the best first date to get to know each other. “Course, if you have a good time on a date, that makes it a good date, no?

Grumps