Excuse me, in this post, for using a lot of these. Actually, if you read this post aloud while using these, it’s actually a lot more humorous. Enjoy.
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OK, so the Oscars were this week. Generally, I like to know what’s happening – I even find myself actually watching on the night of the show… trouble is, I still don’t care.
You hear stories about people that “make it” and win Oscars. Fact is, those people, probably 99% of the time, have some way “in” to the business. They know someone. They have people. I don’t know how to get people if you don’t have any. I’m sure someone has thought of ways for shmoes like us to get people (TriggerStreet?) but it seems like every “underground” route into Hollywood turns overground eventually. Even Sundance has Slamdance, folks.
But through all that, through wanting to make movies myself, through writing story after story, revising, talking about ideas, getting excited about work, directing shows, taking (calculated) risks… I just can’t bring myself to care about Hollywood.
You know my aversion to the culture of celebrity, but this runs deeper. It’s the machine of it. The wheels of Hollywood. And I guess that’s just from afar – I’m sure that, given the opportunity, I would jump on that wheel with both feet. But I would hope that I would have some morals left… in other words, not “play ball” like so many people seem to do so easily.
I guess the route I’m heading in – writing, film-making, directing – lets me think that way more. I’m sure that actors have to have a different attitude. They are literally a dime a hundred, and it’s all a game to get where you want to be. Most of the time.
Even speeches, lovely speeches like Mirren’s and Whitakers, and Marty’s “check the envelope”, though touching and enjoyable for a second, seem to mix together into the melting pot that is the Hollywood experience – very few come out the other end and remain memorable for years and years. But a few do. And that’s nice.
I still insist that I’ll “make it” my own way. And I’ve always had a good head about what “making it” was for me. It’s my own definition, and it’s an attainable goal. I always thought setting yourself the “rich and famous” goal was ridiculous, and hard to achieve. And when you don’t, what do you do then? Are you worthless? Do you feel that way? Who wants that?
My goal? Make a film. Then make another. And another. Rinse, repeat until I’m dead. That’s the process. That’s where it’s at, for me. For you? How the hell should I know?
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By the way, re-listening to Ms. Fiona Apple. If you haven’t heard any of her music, you live under a rock. Crawl out, go to the store and buy everything with the word “apple” in it to make amends. Fiona makes you fall in love with her, especially her voice, from the start. And then you think, this chick is really fucked up. And then you think, this chick can be really swe… wait, she’s fucked up again!