Post-Production Diet

I'm about three weeks into post-production on The Philosopher Kings and all is going well. I've got a really rough 22 minutes of the film edited which means about 50-60 minutes to go! I've encountered some of the typical challenges editors face at this stage. Editing is a little like acting. You want to immerse yourself so deeply that you are living and breathing the material rather than a half-ass representative of it. No real editing can be done until one has become fully immersed in the material and life, so full of distractions, often works against this process. A frequent consequence of my desperate attempts to remain "in the zone" is having to eat crap food. It's within reach and quick to prepare and consume. I like the microwaveable Japanese stuff. As crap food goes, it's pretty awesome.


I'm no Picasso but I like the way he worked. He would often stand before the canvas for three or four hours at a time making almost no superfluous gestures. He's famously quoted as saying "while I work I leave my body outside the door, the way Moslems take off their shoes before entering the mosque."

Of course there are beautiful distractions. "Golden Delicious", the latest Mike Doughty album was my beautiful distraction of the day. I downloaded it and got a much needed shot of inspiration before jumping back in. It's the distractions that seemingly have no value to the task at hand that you try desperately to avoid, but are simply no match for that are a cancer to my process...like pretending that people actually read my blog.

Religion Is Not The Problem

At a post Flight from Death screening Q&A session in Canada several months ago an audience member asked an intriguing question about the "u-turn" the film takes at the end. I tanked when attempting my answer, as I often do, so I wanted to spend a few minutes briefly addressing it here.

The "u-turn", as he called it, referred to the film positing that religion was the problem at the heart of the world's conflicts and how by its conclusion, the film seemed to contradict itself by offering a mildly religious prescription to the problem.

Religion is not the problem and not necessarily any sort of prescription to the problem either - at least as far as the film is concerned.

There are individuals of all faiths and non-faiths who have done "evil" in the name of their beliefs. Some blow up federal buildings, some fly planes into tall buildings, others go on shooting sprees. Clearly, religious belief cannot be singled out as "the problem". What is consistent among these sort of apocalyptic acts of violence is the perpetrators' death grip on their beliefs, leaving no room for the possibilty that their worldview can co-exist among other worldviews. While the fundamentalist and perverted ideologies alluded to above may certainly be a part of the problem in those specific cases, I believe the problem overall is not ideology itself necessarily, but our relationship with ideology.

It's analagous to agoraphobia. When the walls that separate us from the rest of the world begin to define everything about us, we cannot, often out of fear, and will not, see past them. If we are to live constructively together we have to step outside, where the world does not revolve around us, and immerse ourselves in the real world which is made up of all sorts of contradictions before we can fully appreciate and understand our own ideas about how we should live and what to believe.

As Socrates might say, accept the possibility that you are wrong or that others have something to teach you, and maybe someday we'll actually learn what it even means to be "right".

As for Sam Keen's closing about hope, it certainly feels religious but one doesn't have to be religious to appreciate being alive and to appreciate the mysterious force that brings us into (and out of) existence. With so much darkness and hopelessness in the world, it helps me to remember that it's better to be in the world rather than NOT in it.

Old Dudes

There's something about the looming inevitability of bingo nights and adult incontinence that inspires people, as they grow older, to stop messing around. Whenever I want to take inventory of the things in my life that ultimately don't matter, I look to old people. Like, really old people. They don't dress well, they don't smell that great, they walk slow, they're cranky when they want to be, and they could sit on a bench all day feeding bread crumbs to pigeons and never once complain about "where the day went".

"I enjoy talking with the very old, for we should ask them, as we might ask those who have travelled a road that we too will probably have to follow, what kind of road it is, whether rough and difficult or smooth and easy." -Socrates

Japan Rules

"What is man's ultimate direction in life? It is to look for love, truth, virtue, and beauty"
-Shinichi Suzuki

Here's a glimpse of my time in Japan. Enjoy!

Shite Happens

I had over $15k worth of camera equipment stolen out of my car during a recent trip to Vancouver and after beating myself up for a couple of days for being such a dumbass, it got me thinking about some things... such as tragedy and suffering, how no one is safe from it, how it's all bound to happen, and most importantly, whether or not I'm psychologically or spiritually prepared for it - at least to the extent that I won't become entirely unraveled when real tragedy does strike.

Cliches may lack impact and originality, and you often want to punch people in the face for using them, but it pays to examine them in moments like these where it's best to just cut to the chase rather than go on and on trying to eloquently say what can be summed up in just two words. In my case, "shit happens". If you still want to punch me in the face after reading this entry, feel free. I probably had it coming anyway.

How brilliant is the dude who coined the phrase "Shit Happens" and slapped it on a bumper sticker? That sticker was in every gift shop and minimart across the globe for just about the latter half of the 20th century. Millions of people paid this man to be reminded that something bad was going to happen. Clearly a genius...and in more ways than one.

So after I filled out the police report, spent a couple of days sulking, and came to terms with the fact that I'd never see any of my equipment again, I got to thinking about this "shit happens" dude and what he was trying to say and began to examine my own intimate relationship with "shit" and the anticipation of it happening to me.

Just about every religious tradition teaches us that being and feeling truly alive involves a degree of suffering. Any attempt to ignore this fact is done in vain and often results in less life lived. It's debilitating to dwell on the suffering that is just around the corner for all of us. Everything from a stolen wallet to the death of a loved one is a part of everyone's destiny. For many, the suffering is here and now. For others, it's closer than they think. The challenge, it seems to me, is not allowing those tragedies to define us and our lives but to weave it into the fabric of our experience in such a way that it makes us better and more alive. Suffering provides context or a framework within which we experience our lives - especially the good things. It's easy to write about, harder to apply, and surely even more difficult to consider when you're in the midst of suffering, but my naivete doesn't necessarily make what I've said less true.

The reality is that "shit" isn't just going to "happen". It's going to rain down from the heavens until we're drowning in an ocean of it. There'll be no life preserver in sight (just a lot of flies) and your arms will give out trying to make it to shore as giant waves of shit break against your back and occasionally pull you under, forcing mouth-fulls of shit into your mouth. And when it's all over, if you survive that is, you're going to stink - probably for years and you're never going to be able to walk outside again without looking up and wondering if the universe is going to take a big dump on your head again. But you WILL walk outside and you'll undoubtedly appreciate those days when it doesn't...at least for a little while until you start taking the good days for granted again.

TM 3.0

I am in transition. I've killed off the calculating, burden-laden, success-driven side of me so that I can better serve the artist that has been nearly dormant.

All artists must come to terms with it at some point in their careers: making art may feed our souls, but unless we or someone is able to sell our art, we end up broke and hungry. It's a common dilemma: the artist, who thrives on a free and wandering spirit, is invariably antagonized by the strategic and calculating businessman who must coexist within the same person, all in the service of profitability (i.e. making a living). More often than not, the businessman will dominate the other and before you know it, your days are nothing but business. At least that's what happened to me.

The unfortunate part of this transition is that it has resulted in layoffs at Transcendental Media. What was supposed to be an environment in which art thrives, became a hindrance for me creatively and spiritually. I knew some serious restructuring was in order when I found myself often waking in the middle of the night in a panic over personnel issues, profits, sustainability, company morale, deadlines, and efficiency in the TM workflow to name just a few things that kept me up at night. I am proud and honored to have worked alongside such talented people everyday and I'm excited to continue working with them on a project to project basis. I make movies. I am not a businessman nor am I interested in continuing to pose as one.

I look forward to the sleepless nights ahead of me as I feed the free and wandering spirit, lying awake with thoughts of stories I want to tell and creative ways in which to tell them. In addition to continuing work on the several TM projects currently underway such as The Philosopher Kings and Pitch Nation, I'm also looking forward to once again making a habit of writing everyday, dusting off old scripts (finished and unfinished), and giving a voice to everything floating around in my brain that has been haunting me for years.

The Legacy Project - Poland

Our trip to Poland was the perfect metaphor for life. Exploratory. Unique. Chaotic. Challenging. Convoluted. Fulfilling. Eye-opening. Unforgettable.

Back in February or so, Greg mentioned to me that he and his friend Dave Whitson, a teacher at Overlake High School in Seattle were organizing a trip to Poland for a group of Dave's students. He wondered if I'd be willing to come along, all expenses paid, to attend screenings of our previous film Flight from Death, which Greg had arranged in all the major cities in Poland, as well as do some filming as an exploratory exercise for a follow up film to Flight from Death, tentatively titled The Legacy Project. The film would pick up where FFD leaves off, dealing with issues such as hope, survival, suffering, and faith. A trip to Poland certainly sounded appealing as did producing a follow up to FFD - something we had been discussing for several years - but traveling with a group of high school students sounded like a logistical disaster waiting to happen.

Greg and I began discussing the dynamic of making a movie with a large group of students and decided, though it would be extremely challenging, to entertain it further. After all, this was all exploratory, and maybe they could help the crew, and who knows even become a major throughline for the movie - the journey of gifted and privileged students into an exploration of one of the darkest chapters in human history, the Holocaust. Sure, that had potential, but shooting for three weeks with a bunch of students? This would go against everything I learned in my decade of experience in filmmaking. Turns out, my experience hadn't taught me anything. Either that, or I was really desperate for an adventure because I immediately agreed to do it without even a remote idea of what I was getting myself into.

Over the next several months, Greg and I continued discussing the concept for the film only to end up with more questions and an ever expanding scope for the film. "A film about how people find and sustain hope in the face of no hope" sounds great, but how do you film that? And speaking of film, how do you make one without a crew anyway? Meanwhile, the ball was rolling, students were being interviewed for the trip, interviews with Holocaust survivors were lined up, and plans were being made. The Legacy Project was quickly taking on a life of its own and was going to happen whether we were ready for it or not.

I once attended a seminar where the director, Walter Salles was speaking about his experiences making The Motorcycle Diaries during which the cast and crew retraced the 8,000 mile exploratory trek through South America that Che Guevara took before becoming the leader of the Cuban Revolution. Salles and his crew filmed as they journeyed through these foreign lands, employing locals as actors where they went, and sometimes rewriting the movie on the spot. Walter spoke about how the "film gods" were with them every step of the way, opening doors for them, making it all possible.

Well, I began sensing even before the trip started, the "film gods" smiling upon us. It was either that or there was a mass breakout at the local psych ward because just months before leaving, two more crazies entered the picture. These nut jobs were willing to not just give up 2 weeks of their lives for this, but pay their own way to serve as crew on this mad excursion. And what a motley bunch we were. The film crew was comprised of myself, Pat Pai (friend and fellow filmmaker) and Scott Shamansky (my best friend since the 5th grade). Rounding out the group was Greg (who would end up brilliantly wearing many hats on this trip), 11 super cool high school students, Dave Whitson (their history teacher and co-coordinator for the trip), Natasha (Photographer/Greg's amazing girlfriend), and friends/translators, Ania and Pawel.

In the span of two weeks our group of 17-20 people (depending on how many of the local translators were with us) traveled to cities such as Warsaw, Lublin, Owsiecim, Krakow, and Czestochowa. Along the way we filmed concentration camps, interviewed Holocaust survivors, and local Polish folks about their memories of the horrific things that happened in their own backyards; we chaperoned 11 students; we promoted and organized five screenings of Flight from Death; and whenever possible, we played, ate, slept, and counseled one another. Never have I experienced so much death imagery and life imagery all in one short span of time. It was a physically, mentally, emotionally exhausting, and convoluted trip and all I can think about these days is when I can do it all again. That is, if it's even possible to replicate such a unique experience.

In the end, we came back with a lot to show for our time in Poland. We shot approximately 30-40 hours of amazing HD footage; we have a solid foundation upon which to continue our exploration of suffering, hope, survival, and faith in places all over the world; I've made new friends; and most importantly, I'm completely recharged and ready to take on the world again. Future Legacy Project trips may include Chile, South Africa, Cambodia, the Middle East, and China just to name a few and I'll be counting the days until each and every one of those trips.

In reading up on The Motorcycle Diaries, I stumbled upon the brilliant tagline for the film that sums up a lot of things for me. "Before he changed the world, the world changed him." I've always spoken about wanting to be a catalyst for change with the work that I do but never giving much attention to the change that perhaps needs to take place in me. How can I even dream of changing anything in the world, if I am not fully immersed in it, living in it, and interacting with it? I'm certainly feeling incredibly drawn to the world these days - not wanting to keep my feet still but continually moving and taking me to unfamiliar places. Film gods, I'm in your hands.

Legacy Project - Poland pics