This was a stressful submission for me since I am on the opposite side of the world as Austin Texas. I sent the movie through email to a friend who burned it and dropped off the DVD. My mom overnighted the submission fee and application. So obviously the acceptance was much appreciated.

Light of Mine was a simple little film that my wife and I made back in September. It was a concept and conceived from a Flikr poster we saw of a woman holding a dead light bulb with xx as it’s eyes. If you look back on my films you will see many with inanimate objects coming to life. Immediately after seeing the picture my brain began to whir away with the possibilities of bringing this light bulb back to life.

The result is the short film posted below.

That’s my wife in the starring role. Eric Smith, again with a film changing score and Foley work. The movie was filmed in a couple hours, edited in a day or two, Attic is it’s first film competition.

This is an excerpt from the book where the mother of Martin Eden’s fiance is trying to convince her that he is not the man of her future.

Set in San Fransisco, a poor seaman chases dreams of education, literary fame, and most important of all… love. The book is an attack on the individualistic mentality and hits on the futility of ambitions and ultimately their lack of fulfillment in life.

“… their narrow little lives by narrow little formulas- herd creatures, flocking together and patterning their lives by one another’s opinions, failing of being individuals and of really living life because of the childlike formulas by which they were enslaved.”

Considered to be semi-autobiographical, Jack London pours his life, hardships, success, and beliefs into Martin Eden. Whether London intended it this way or not, the story speaks to me about the necessity of a life grounded in something more than what this world can offer. All the things we strive for, all the things we accomplish, all the things we love eventually lets us down or disappointment. When facing these life reality checks, Martin Eden, empty, withered, and broken, crawls back into the oceans womb from wince he came.

Having been familiar with Jack London’s Call of the Wild and White Fang (as every young boy should be) I was surprised at having never heard of this book. I am extremely thankful the novel was recommended to me because the story has instantly become one of my all time favorites. In that vein I highly recommend it to you.

I expected to simply respect Clash, not to have had so much fun. You have to truly appreciate the time and special care that went into the awe inspiring special effects of that day. There are some impressive tricks found within. That being said, how could they have done such a poor job on something as simple as the seagull soaring through the opening credits. They can bring to life Madussa or the Kracken in a still to this day entertaining and convincing fashion but not a simple seagull?

The Medusa sequence is by far my favorite. From the Ferry Man, 2 headed wolves, to the snake haired goddess herself. I could feel the tension. The pacing was perfect. The lack of music uncomfortable. A great sequence.

I also loved the turmoil between Zeus’s son, Perseus, and the rejected and cast down Calibos. Calibos’s SFX marriage between live acting and stop motion was impressive even today (in perspective).

Above all, Clash is an adventure. As a result the viewer should to some degree feel anxious, excited, and hopeful for the character’s success. The viewer should grow more interested in the movie as the hero rises to new challenges and completes new tasks in pursuing his destiny. Despite the aging and limitations of the 80s I feel that Clash of the Titans is still a movie to be enjoyed.

Last but not least, I could not help but think up this campy Entertainment Weekly style actorial equation. Prince Humperdinck (The Princess Bride) + Jeff Wadlow (director of Cry Wolfe, Never Back Down)= Prince Perseus

What is haiku?

The second thing this Christmas day blockbuster has to offer would be a reawakening of Sherlock Holmes as a cultural icon. A new generation’s ears have perked at a sleeping giant in our world’s literature. I myself, who as a kid cast off Sherlock as a character of my father’s generation or my mother’s English class, stormed off immediately to my local bookstore to buy a newly bound collection of this detective’s original adventures. My young cousin of 15 years, began to study his exploits in her literature classes instead of the dry and much less interesting monologues of Colonel Kurtz. Although my mother (an Literature teacher) refuses to see the movie based on her assumption that its modernization is a negative one, you can’t help but smile at the ripples of an awakening literary icon.

All these praisings said, the film is far from perfect. I tire of mindless, domino effect action where one accidental consequence spurs yet 5 more into a disastrous climax which leaves everyone down save the hero who stands with a goofy shrug of Hollywood luck (the hero never dies). But I guess that is the consequences of pleasing the main stream. You must soften the blows and violence of action in some way.

To nod back to Ritchie, there are three elements I love in this movie. One would be the music, which as now been nominated for an Oscar. Second is Ritchie’s ability to capture a moment, to freeze it, show you the ripples of skin impacted by a punch, amaze you with the beauty of an explosion frozen in time, and then slam you back in with perfectly lead sound design and camera movement.

Last but not least, I want to hail the opening credits. I am always sucked into a movie when the opening shot, scene, or credit is lead to pull you in. In Ritchie’s Holmes, the camera travels along the cobbled stone streets of London introducing the makers (or breakers) of the movie as their logos are created from the stones themselves. The mood and world of the movie is set even before the camera pans up to a hurried police carriage armed with Doc. Watson and company. My final comment will direct you to the fact that there really isn’t anything new under the sun these days. Check out the video beneath to see what I mean.

What is haiku?

There is a special type of pepper used for ajvar, coming from a far south city in Macedonia. First, you take this pepper and you roast it. You roast it until the skin turns all nice, dark, and crispy. This process is what makes making ajvar so communal. Everyone sits around on stools with several different bowls and buckets in front of them. One bucket with the blackened roasted peppers, another with clean water for cleaning, and finally a basket for the skinned and finished peppers. So basically, everyone sits around and peels the peppers. You remove the thick, tough, outer skin which is crucial to the ajvar’s smooth spread-like texture. Slightly burning the skin makes it easy to peel off with your bare fingers. Don’t forget to rip open and gut out all the seeds and innards. From my experience it was a fun couple of hours; laughing, joking, catching up as we mindlessly pulled at pepper after pepper. I imagine this isn’t so fun if your making it alone.

In the next process, Lile’s mom hooked up a grinder to a power drill. She begins now to grind up all the peppers into the peppered version of ground beef. These poor peppers… baked, peeled, ground, fried and canned. I guess I am giving away the process before I explain it, but you can’t help but feel sorry for the guys. So… after the piles and piles of peppers have been laboriously skinned, after Lile’s mother power drills them through the grinder, they are next fried in oil and pieces of eggplant. Lile’s mom stood over a wood fired pot with a big wooden spoon, churning and churning, keeping the ajvar from burning. This is where the wonderful smell comes in. This cooking part lasts a couple hours. The peppers slowly soak and become one. The goal is to have something soft and smooth to spread on bread or eat with salads.

Last but not least the ajvar is canned and saved for the cold Macedonian winter. It’s delicious when spread across a thick piece of bread with white Macedonian sirenje cheese sprinkled across. It’s the best while it’s still warm from the fire.

Now… enjoy.

What is haiku?

High Planes Drifter’s story is unique to the genre in the since that the movie carries a pretty heavy supernatural undertone. One that in fact is not so clearly explained. Is this Drifter a ghost? An angel? A protector? Or a dead man out for revenge? These questions posed and left unanswered are one reason why I like this movie so much.

The directing of shots and the flow of the story are solid throughout. Eastwood puts his back into the action and lingers on the quiet moments for just the right pace. The best scene is when the Drifter (played by Eastwood) comes strolling into town for the first time. We experience the scene like the townspeople peering from their windows. We are allowed mysterious glimpses at who he might be and what are his motivations with subtle clues and story telling methods (for example: why is the Drifter so startled by the cracking of a whip?)

Drifter is a decent Western to say the least. Some good action, interesting characters, and a new angle to some conventional Western themes. I would say if you’re interested in Clint’s early steps as a director or you are a carnosaur of Westerns in general, then give it a rent. Otherwise… move along, nothing for you to see here.

PS. For more Clint Eastwood directed/drifter/supernatural/westerns see Pale Rider (1985)