My absence is due to this. Update your bookmark!

A recent viewing has prompted me to define my admiration for Daniel Craig. He who is so talented, so fine, and so fashionable, you swear t-shirts were invented just for him. No wonder poor Rhys Ifans was obsessed.

David suggested that I use the following quotes to express my celebrity crush. I didn't come up with any of them by the way. I don't usually sink that low:

"Man, that Daniel Craig is one layer cake I'd be willing to eat again and again!"

"I don't know about you, but I'd be happy to let Daniel Craig mother me any day!"

"I have to confess! I have an enduring love for Daniel Craig!"

"I have to take my own little road to perdition for Daniel Craig!"

"Daniel Craig is one jacket I'd love to try on!"

"Lordy, Daniel Craig can raid my tomb any day!" (alright, this one's mine)

Anyone else wanna chip in? You know you love Danny too.

Adam Smith is currently an actor in LA, who's also a fine writer in his own right. I've asked him to read for a role in "Ciao" awhile back. I also wanted his feedback, which he kindly offered:

It's refreshing to see an episode of people's lives as they occur rather than as Hollywood would have us believe they occur. In my opinion, the only drawback to the script is that the stakes aren't very high. The characters are believable, you have a knack for writing dialogue the way that people actually speak, and all of the storytelling elements are there: humor, tragedy, anticipation, etc. Maybe the stakes don't need to be high. They aren't always in real life. I guess I just noticed that your style (as in "Happy Birthday," and from what I recall of your part of the script in "Deadroom") tends to find the tension in the quiet moments. To be more specific, imagine you're in a room full of friends. Just a regular day, doing regular stuff. One of the friends always carries a concealed gun. He never shows it, never talks about it. Everyone knows he has it, nobody knows why, nobody asks. There is nothing inherently strange or dangerous about the guy other than the fact that he carries a concealed gun around. That, to me, is what your filmmaking style is like. I didn't feel that element in "Ciao." I hope that makes sense, and I don't want to offend you. I'm just being honest because I respect and admire your ability.

I'm not sure if that's an accurate analogy of my filmmaking style, but it sure as heck sounds neat.

~

Speaking of higher stakes, check out David's interview with the filmmaker who always raises them.

~

I still have bad posture. Blame it on the suffering self-esteem in my teens. I walk better now, but every now and then, like that Friday afternoon when I received the dreaded news, I found my shoulders drooping on my way to the men's room; my body language screaming: I'm just not good enough.

In the next 24 hours, the following questions and statements arised in random order. Many irrelevan t, some ridiculous, but a few enlightening. I'm writing them down so I can read it out loud with the hope of laughing at my inner demon working overtime:

It doesn't help that you're gay AND Asian.

Oh, and you don't look like this.

Porn moans louder than art.

You're out of tune with your community. Your work does not speak to them, and frankly, they could give a fuck. The last thing we need are gay films with Mike Leigh sensibilities. How bloody depressing.

What's this crap about respecting your characters? Empathy is overrated. Exploit them. And yes, they have to take off their clothes when they dance. Or even when they're reading a book. Because really, the gay audience will eat that shit up.

Before I forget, keep your characters under the age of 25. Refer to these magazine covers for visual references.

Have you thought about going to the bars more regularly? Like say, every other night? Your vocab needs a tune-up.

Speaking of, your gaydar must be replaced.

Please work more on your snappy one-liners. For inspirations, watch this religiously. Also recommended.

Why are you always trying to be profound? What's this obsession with poignancy?

You have to work on meeting more gay friends. Having too many heteros in your life is just a disguise for your self-hatred.

It's hard to stand straight when you have integrity.

~

But...

for the lack of a better and more constructive explanation, I can't quite bring myself to shut down "Ciao." There's something about the material that's still hanging onto me, refusing to let go. I will find out what that something is eventually, but calling it quits is just an irrationally emotion al reaction. It's one of those scripts I suppose: okay on paper but better on screen?

~

I remember the months after I came out in college, when I became very jaded very quickly. There were disillusions with the gay scene; how people treated each other, how quickly the vibrant nightlife became as monotonous as a bad techno beat. And I snapped out of it soon enough. I stopped going out, I stopped partying. Then I moved to Dallas, and I had to go through it all over again just to meet people. The inferiority of being an outcast amongst other outcasts didn't change however, I had such problems relating and being related to. I thought that when people didn't ask you questions about yourself, it's because you were a boring ass, not because they were insecure. But filmmaking came into the picture, and suddenly, t here were possibilities. With life, with my voice. Slowly but surely, I found my niche: my friends and family. And I realize how lucky I am to be surrounded by people who are totally fine with me being me.

Naturally, when I go through this cycle of "we-don't-want-to-make-yo ur-kind-of-gay-films,"&nb sp;I'm reminded of those early days when I felt completely overlooked and misunderstood. All these years later, I'm fighting the same battle again, only in a different arena.

~

My name is Yen Tan. I'm a filmmaker in Dallas, Texas. I'm Chinese. I speak fluent Mandarin and broken Cantonese. I seek to make films about everyday people living their everyday lives. Most of them are homosexuals. I don't consciously set out to do so, but I believe it's my subconscious attempt to push forward a representation of the gay everyman in contemporary cinema. We're not just hustlers, druggies, gym bunnies, drag queens, sex fiends or asexual comic reliefs. We're also the plumber. The postman. The accountant. The teacher. The unemployed. The retiree. We are human above our sexuality. We eat. We shit. We fuck. We pay our bills. We seek love. Sometimes we find it, other times we don't. Most of us are not cute. Or dress well. Or drive fancy cars and have mucho disposable income. It's only in our most unfabulous moments, that truth and beauty exist.

Netflixes have a way of sitting on top of my television for weeks before my neglect is realized. What happens after is a viewing binge or they're returned unplayed, so I can get the next batch of soon-to-be-neglected films. I know, how embarrassing. Must. Stop. Now.

The other night, while taking a break from never-ending errands, I finally committed myself to "Blue Gate Crossing," something I threw in my que awhile back and I can't quite remember why I did. But...

Wow. How fucking poignant.

Just when I thought the whole am-I-or-am-I-not-gay setup has been done to death, something comes along and smacks me in the face. Hard.

Two girls in their early teens. One's in love with a boy who swims. The other is in love with her. Later, the boy also falls for the girl who can't love him back. Yes, the classic love triangle, but the approach was entirely refreshing, because the sexuality was never treated as the foreground. Emphasis is placed on their behavior*, their routines, their words**, and most of all, their moments, ranging from the most awkward to the most human***.

*Feeling heartbroken, the girl goes to her mother's room at night and lies next to her. We learned by now that she was raised by a single parent. She asks her, "How did you survive when dad left you?" Mom took the question as an indication that perhaps her daughter was just ditched herself, but she answers, "I don't know. I just did. I really don't know." The girl falls asleep, followed by the woman. A beat. Then she opens her eyes, stares into space and right then, we know she knows her real answer to the question.

**Boy: What should I say?
Girl: A secret.
Boy: Secret? All right... my pee fans out.
Girl: What?
Boy: It fans out, like a showerhead. Never in a straight line. I don't know why. Maybe the opening is too big. Don't tell anyone!
Girl: Okay.

***By now the boy realizes that his first love will be unrequited. For now, the friendship will do. They're riding their bikes, as they often do after school, racing each other from time to time. While stopping at a red light, he says to her: "Maybe some day, in a year... maybe three, if you start liking boys, you have to tell me first. Don't laugh. I'm serious." Green light. He rides away ahead of her. Her voiceover: "Watching you ride away, I'm thinking... in a year, three years, five years... where will we be? You're kind, cheerful, uncomplicated; you'll be even better. I can see you years from now. You're in front of a big blue gate, in the afternoon sun. You still have a few zits. You smile and I run towards you. You nod at me. Three years, five years later... or later, much later... what kind of grown-ups will we be? Like our teacher? Like my mom? I can't see myself but I can see you."

The film also effectively uses the Frente! song, "Accidently Kelly Street." I was frantically searching for my "Marvin the Album" CD, intending to play the track to death in my iPod.

4.16 (Saturday) - Arrived at the airport and was greeted by singer/songwriter/festiva l volunteer LisaBeth Weber. She took me to the festival's guest office to check in and pick up my badge, where I met Brian Fucking Wade (as printed on his kickass business card), who works for the Greater Philadelphia Film Office and is a screenwriter himself. I was then driven to the hotel, where I dropped my bags off in the room and headed towards Prince. I was due to meet the other three at the screening of "The Far Side of the Moon," after they're done with "Me & You and Everyone We Know." I was a little early so I waited in line while munching on a chocolate cookie. When "Me" ended, my first sight of the guys leaving the theatre gave me a brief but overwhelming sensation of comfort. It felt good to see them. Of course, I've seen these bastards as recently as a couple of days ago in Dallas, but seeing them then in another city far, far away felt incredibly reassuring, like slipping into my favorite pair of underwear. They told me how much they loved Miranda July's film (and excitedly recapped their evening before at a fancy party for Malcolm McDowell); it sure sounded like I missed a gem. Thankfully, "Far" was not a disappointment. Robert Lepage's triple duty directing and acting as twins (one straight, one gay) were quite remarkable, and Benoit Jutras' score was moving from the moment it played at the opening credits sequence. After the film, we stopped by a bar for drinks and supper then trotted back to our rooms for the night.

4.17 (Sunday) - Our first agenda of the day was the filmmakers' brunch. It was delightful to see Andy Preis and Billy Kline again. I've met both of them three years ago at the PIGLFF. James, David and I (strategically) approached TLA honcho Rich Wolff, said hello and chatted business*. I also finally had a chance to meet fellow bigwig Ray Murray, the man whom I'll always credit as the person who gave me my first recognition. I was told that they've successfully picked up "Far" and has grown tremendously as a distributor with an increasing slate of releases. We also had a chance to introduce ourselves to the lovely Ms. July, who seemed a little startled by all the attention surrounding her. Then, off to see "Astronauts" (good overall but loses its momentum with a prematurely abrupt ending; a great soundtrack though) and a stroll through the city with Nick (James and David were at "Evilenko") before our appearance at our first screening. The turnout was modest at best (fifteen) but the presence of Ti West all the way from Wilmington, Delaware made it all worthwhile. He's due to appear at the LAFF for "The Roost" and word is that they're in negotiations for a sale. Good luck! After our show, we hung out with Nick's friend, Cassie; first at a bar (where I smoked cigarettes for the very first time in my life; both rolled and filtered for the full experience) then at her mindblowing warehouse pad.

*James and David have signed on to be the producers of "Ciao" and I couldn't be happier. We're trying to secure funding now, with an approximate shoot date in spring of 2006.

4.18 (Monday) - Happy birthday James! Saw "Off Beat", which started out promising enough but slowly derailed when its emotional resonance were overshadowed by an increasingly grating alt/pop/rock soundtrack, becoming too hip for its own good. We stopped by TLA's office to get a tour from Andy but he wasn't around, thus an early appearance at the Steve Buscemi party, which was held at a swanky residential loft with a rooftop that has a spectacular view of the city. When Steve arrived, he was swamped with photo ops. The smile/snap routine went on for awhile, and I can only imagine how tedious it was for him to act like he enjoyed every second of it. Susan, another festival volunteer we befriended, made it a point to introduce us around, which was very considerate on her part. We did finally meet the man himself and he was a true gentleman (repeating your name after you tell him who you are). James and David managed to carry on a conversation with him, and it was kinda funny to see how quickly we got over our startstruckness. Soon, it was time to head over to our second screening. There was a bigger turnout (including another surprise appearance from fellow "Roost"er sound mixer Graham Reznick, whose cigarette lighter belt-buckle is one of the coolest fashion accessories I've ever seen) and I sat through the entire film this time around. The guys returned in time for the Q&A and David showed up shit-faced (he's a fantastic speaker when he's intoxicated though). Some of the audience members hung around in the lobby to speak to us further, which was very flattering and validating. And what better way to end the night than doing JD shots with Susan and gossiping about her sex life?

4.19 (Tuesday) - I'm certainly surprised I didn't wake up with a hangover. Nick had to leave in the morning so his presence was definitely missed. David and I went to catch a noon screening of "Story Undone"  (unexpectedly humoro us yet ultimately tragic) before joining James for Mr. Buscemi's "Lonesome Jim" (much better than I thought but still suffers from a lack of originality). We then split up when the guys decided to watch the late Theo Van Gogh's "Cool" and I was more in the mood for slick Hollywood-esque cinema in the form of the Tom Tykwer-produced "Lautlos" (enjoyable enough for what it is; nothing more and nothing less). Our last film of the day was Miike's "Izo," which became so trippy it was almost unwatchable after the first hour.

4.20 (Wednesday) - the highlight of the day was obviously our extended visit at the TLA office. Andy showed us around and we met almost every important person there, saying hello again to Ray and Rich. We definitely didn't walk out feeling like we were unwelcomed. The closing night film was "Music from the Inside Out" and the party that followed soon became an incentive for everyone (especially ones who were involved with the festival) to get totally smashed. My second drink was mixed so strong I couldn't walk straight for half an hour and had to stuff my face with cheese and crackers to sober up. When we got back to the hotel, James wanted to smoke his free cigar at the bar so the three of us sat around and discussed/debated potential endings for "Ciao." David vowed that he will not let me settle with anything just to satisfy audience expectations. Oh Lord, may I thank You again for granting me with such blessed company? David and I watched the last ten minutes of some skin-flick on Cinemax before going to bed. It was atrocious, but as I remarked before turning the lights out, "it was still shot on film!"

4.21 (Thursday) - Boarded the (scary) express bus in Chinatown (note to future passengers: never ever sit near the toilet; unless you enjoy the wonderful whiff of barf and urine everytime somebody entered/exit) and was thankfully in NYC in no time. Went to Jessica's photo studio and picked up the keys to her apartment. Climbed four flight of stairs to her place, left our bags and took off to Central Park and the Met (James and I couldn't get in without paying for admission tickets; David managed to sneak in however). Fatigue soon caught up (having less than three hours of sleep the night before) and James and I went back to Jessica's where I took an afternoon nap. We all went out to dinner that night and it was as pricey as a five-star hooker (excellent meal nonetheless). Took a walk around the city later and enjoyed the comfortably chilly breeze, dreading the thought of summer heat in Texas. In other news, Bryan quit his dayjob. A big congrats! Here's hoping the new project will bring him lots more in the future.

4.22 (Friday) - I had to prepare dinner for the party, so in true New York fashion, David and I ventured into Chinatown and bought everything there. I think I was ripped off a couple of times but who's counting? Definitely not me who's bad at math despite what the stereotype of my ethnicity promises. Came back to the apartment by two and I was cooking until people showed up after eight. One of the most amazing dishes I fixed on the fly was the chardonnay potato curry (the wine was mixed in last minute as an "experiment"). Absolutely heavenly. And who knew fixing Tom Kha soup in a crock pot for three hours would make the world of a difference? Guests who arrived included Jason Schafer, Shannon Kelley, and our favorite new pal Laura McDonald from Carmichael Films. Jessica and Geoffroy also invited some of their friends, and like David's description, the evening was a highly memorable international rendezvous. I don't recall having one single boring conversation with anyone, and that's saying a lot. I suddenly realized why I enjoyed cooking this much. It's a lot like filmmaking really. I felt in touch with humanity.

4.23 (Saturday) - The party ended at around 3AM. I had to catch a bus back to Philly in a couple of hours, so I decided to stay up. David walked me to the bus station at dawn (speaking of, my ass would be so lost in the city without him) and I unwillingly boarded with an emotional high still lingering from the night before. Back in Dallas by 4PM and had to lie down for an hour or so before dinner. I didn't wake up until Sunday morning at 9AM.

About to catch a flight to the City of Brotherly Love, which calls for a quick reminder, cause I know we have tons of fans out there. Or not.

Screening info is here. Prove us wrong. Here's an assurance.

Kasia gave birth to a healthy seven-pound girl. I held her for the first time last night and I felt all gooey inside. Looks like my babysitting days are getting close.

A hearty happy to Nick. Please bombard him with your warmest and wettest wishes.

Kasia should be delivering her first any minute now (or as I bluntly said to her a month ago: your pussy will explode).

And what are birthdays without laughter?

While attempting to reword the description of an embroidered boudoir pillow at the dayjob, a voice whispered in the back of my head:

Quit now.

What?

Quit now. Set yourself free.

I can't. Got bills to pay. Got shit I don't need to buy.

Not your job, silly. Your dream. Filmmaking. Quit now.

For a minute, I imagined what a relief the idea was. The voice was more than happy to chirp along:

No more scripts. No more rewrites. No more Goggling for negative reviews that you tell yourself not to take personally but you will anyway. No more wondering if money's ever gonna come through. No more getting into debt. No more query letters. No more rejections. No more wondering if when people don't respond, it means fuck off or be persistent. No more plans for futur e films. No more going up to strangers in noisy bars and introducing yourself. No more of this selling yourself bullshit. No more festival submissions. No more waiting to be accepted.

No more, no more!

You're not just doing yourself a favor. It's for your friends, your peers, all the other filmmakers. One less talent in the market. One less film to make. One more chance for everyone else.

Be angelic for once. Sacrifice yourself like Christ did.

You can see watch films. You can still be supportive when people around you do it. You can still say shit like, "Yes, you'll make it! Keep up the great work!" Most of all, you can now truly enjoy manipulative Hollywood entertainment without a sense of indie guilt.

I simply responded by reaching for a yellow Post-it, uncapped a Sharpie and wrote:

Hang in there.

It's now hanging on the side of my monitor.

It must be the boudoir pillow. I wished it was in front of me so I can punch it out and ripped it apart. Then I'll know what it's really made out of and describe it in graphic details.

~

I've been obsessing over the idea of having a proper budget for the past year, constantly chanting:

Quarter of a mil! That's the way to go!

The week after SXSW as I returned with a renewed sense of fuck 250K-let's-make-50K-DV-fi lms, I've slowly transformed into a telemarketer, always asking at every available opportunity:

Hey man, do you know anyone I can get 50K from?

You can so easily make 50K back!

I can make such a great film with 50K!

If I don't stop now, I'm gonna turn into one of those guys everyone makes a point to avoid. Eww, 50K's in the room y'all. I won't even give him 50 cents.

Sometime today when I stared at the picture of the boudoir pillow and the pricey silk sheets spread beneath it, I scratched my head and felt disgusted. More at myself than the marked-up retails. Me and my 50K price tag. I haven't even whored all the way yet but I already felt worn out.

Jerry said to me last week that I should stop thinking about it. The money. If it'll happen. If it'll all work out.

"It's like love, you know. It comes when you quit searching for it."

Maybe that's what the voice was really trying to say:

Not the dream, silly. The 50K.

~

Nick and I, in our own ways, had a blast at Ozone. It was a nice town with a laid-back Southern feel. So laid-back, only six people showed up at our first screening. And fifteen at our second. Ultimately, what made it all worthwhile was getting to know my fellow director better. Out of the three, I knew him the least. We drank, laughed, cracked stupid jokes, and most importantly, slept on the same bed without the slightest hint of homoeroticism.

"I didn't cuddle up to you last night, did I?" He asked the next morning.

"Yeah, you did. And you called me Kara."

~

At one of our gas stops, I grabbed a cup of coffee at the store and walked up to the cashier's. Then I saw him, standing by the soda machine, wondering if he should fill his plastic cup with Pepsi or Mountain Dew. It was Gabe, exactly the way I envisioned in "Pit Stop." The baseball cap. The Wranger's. The thick moustache. The blue eyes. The construction boots with dried mud sticking on its sides. I wanted to say hey mister, can I take your picture? But the check-out girl was giving me the evil eye. Like my Asian ass didn't belong there.

~

After our second screening in Ozone, James and David were celebrating for our very first award in College Station. Rumor has it that they were both surrounded by braless sorority girls.

~

It looks like our next projects, respectively, are David's "Drift", James' "Sid" and Nick's "Still Writing It As We Speak" (which involves a whistling hooker I must add, and from what he has described to me, sounds mighty interesting).

As for me, there's 'Pit Stop," which ideally should be my follow-up to "Happy Birthday." However, I can't, for the life of me, shoot "Pit" on DV. Not even HD. Only film can serve its narrative, unfortunately. Which brings me back to my obsession over 250K.

So there's "Ciao." Essentially, it's a gay "84 Charing Cross Road," a film I've always been fond of since I caught it on TV at the age of fourteen. Not as classy of course, and this involves an Italian and an American instead. Unlike Helene and Frank, Andrea and Jeff actually meet halfway into the film and eventually get it on. Well, not exactly. But they do dance with their tops off. I admit it sounds like the type of gay film I've sworn not to make: pretty boys living it up in the wonderful genre of romantic comedy. David, who initially was receptive to the first draft, gave a harsh but constructive criticism to my second. I needed that. A push to make it better. I questioned my intentions (this one will sell cause the Italian's hot!), then my bias towards the attractive characters. I couldn't help but feel like there's not enough of a content, as if cuteness alone would make up for the lack of substance. By now, I may be giving away the impression that "Ciao" is a fluff piece. It is to an extent, but I do strive for it to be something more. Over and over I remind myself my filmmaking motto: it needs to mean something.

In an example of life imitating art, I consulted with the person I loosely based Andrea on, Alessandro, who then presented me with a very insightful character analysis. Along with David's comments (and to an extent, his wonderful short film script submission to Berlin entitled "Red Notes on a Blue Film"), I was suddenly invigorated by all the possibilites introduced.

Another draft is on the way. Let's hope third one's the charm.

If you live here or here, this is your lucky weekend.

"DEADROOM" will be screened at Texas Film Festival and Ozone Film Festival. James and David are currently at the former; Nick and I will be driving over to the latter.

Next stop: Philly!

So much for keeping a daily log of last week's worth of events. Here's an attempt to capture it all in one word: educational.

Okay, I shall elaborate in a single entry. To begin, I saw many great films. I was particularly impressed with "The Puffy Chair" and "Cavite" for narratives and "The Boys of Baraka" for documentary. It should be noted that all three were shot on DV, and while there was a strong current of anti-video sentiments expressed throughout the festival, I felt more convinced than ever before that it's not so terrible to shoot another project on tape. Besides, the film-is-better-than-video rant is beginning to sound like a Christian propaganda: switch or die, celluloid is your only savior. As much as I would love to shoot on film, bashing video is such a bitter, passé attitude, resembling a racist relative rambling about the good old days when whites ruled the country. Come on fellas, chill the fuck out. There's room for both to coexist.

Going into a festival as big as SXSW, there are essentially two things you can do: watch films or attend panels/parties.

James and Nick decided on day two that we need to focus on the latter because they were opportunities to meet people. We could always catch up on the flicks during the second half of the festival, when most industry folks have already left town. I couldn't agree more, and although part of me was resisting this whole process of putting myself out there and (gasp) talking to strangers, I also reminded myself that I absolutely need to go through this. It's okay to fumble. It's okay to fuck-up. But it's not okay to not take advantage of these opportunities.

There was the first attempt of going up to Ryan Werner from Wellspring that was awkward to say the least. I was overwhelmed by first-time jitters, which had a trigger effect on both James and Nick. Lesson 1: approach spontaneously. Planning only makes it worse.

To redeem ourselves from the embarrassment, the three of us quickly departed the premise and was onto the next (David, in the meantime, was busy watching films; or rather, his need to socialize hasn't kicked in yet), a party organized by DGA, where we met Susan Leber. Susan was at a ball-busting funding panel we (regrettably) attended earlier in the morning and she was the only person up there we could remotely relate to. It was refreshing to hear from a working producer who's not in it for the money and is more concerned about making great indies. We were also briefly introduced to the very talented Ti West, whom she produced the highly enjoyable "The Roost" for.

There was a point at this venue, sometime after speaking to Susan and before meeting DGA's John Larson, when I witnessed James and Nick blooming from doubtful buds into appealing flowers. While I finished my gin & tonic (or was it Diet Coke?) at one corner before joining them in their conversation about the greatness of Richard Linklater, I quietly giggled to myself, seeing how these boys are working their way in the room. And that was when lesson 2 sank in: only you can be comfortable in your own skin. Oh, there was also lesson 3: always establish the relationship first. Get to know the other person (and let them know you). Bringing up business (here's my script! Work with me! Watch my film!) from the get-go can be a huge turn-off.

At the same party, we also spoke to the delightful Jarred Alterman and his girlfriend Leah. They were there for his wonderful short doc, "Mott Music" and it's one of those encounters where we "got" each other almost instantly, cracking up at each other's jokes. We all then met up with David and Amy to stand in line for, well, let's say it was a film that prompted David and I to sneak out fifteen minutes into it. I felt guilty for doing so, because there was always a chance that it may have gotten better after we left. Nevertheless, I asked Amy (and later, Jarred and Leah too) what she thought of it: "I don't even wanna waste my breath explaining to you what happened after you guys left." Eek.

It's not like "DEADROOM" was immune to negative feedback. Our screenings went very well overall, and we did get some positive press, but we still heard some bad comments here and there. We were hoping it'll sell out, but as we realized later on, most of the screenings that took place at the Dobie weren't as packed as the ones at the Alamo or Paramount. Lesson 4, which is also the number one lesson in real estate: location, location, location. If possible, ask for a good one upon acceptance at a festival. Smaller films always run a chance of being (as James put it in his blog) the neglected stepchild. You gotta fight (politely of course) for certain things: venue being one, schedule being another (our last screening on Thursday at noon was pitiful; 16 people! And only three bothered to stay for the Q&A, which was cancelled as a result).

While we're on the subject of attendance, here's lesson 5, which I consider a social etiquette for all filmmakers: please don't make it a point to tell someone you'll make it to his/her screening and not show up. It's just lame. I'm perfectly fine with "I'll try to make it" or "I'm interested in seeing your film" (or heck, not even mention it) and still not being able to come. But when you look someone in the eye and express your desire to see their work, you better be present. When absence follows, it feels like a slap in the face, especially if you've already attended theirs. Moral support is a two-way street, and as long as we're struggling artists, we need that from each other.

Nick managed to get us on the list for the Carmichael Films party on the rooftop of Speakeasy. Before I could look around to see where Elijah Wood and Dominic Monaghan were at, David dragged me from one corner to the other to meet with one of the owners, Chris Pizzo. The conversation initially involved the three of us and him. Minutes later, it ended up with me and him for what seemed like half an hour, where I asked him about his background and why he's doing what he's doing. As I walked away with his business card, lesson 6 hit me: be it Chris, Elijah, Dominic, or even Tom Cruise for that matter, we've all gone through the rough times of getting started. In different levels, of course, but regardless of where we're at presently, there were still the days that were hard, that were hopeless. No one really has it any easier. We ultimately got into this by calling, not by choice.

Before Carmichael, we made a brief appearance at another party (we're such scenesters) where I was acquainted with more filmmakers. I remember a couple of years ago when I really had a difficult time engaging people in conversations. You know those moments where you run into a wall and you don't know what else to talk about and the other person's not chipping in and you find youself staring at the ice cubes in your empty glass, hoping they'll melt quickly enough for you to take a last sip so you can conveniently excuse yourself to get a refill? I had plenty of those throughout the festival, but I find myself asking questions, throwing little quips in, and lo and behold, the stranger I just met is now going on and on like there's no tomorrow. I'm not exactly sure where I learned this from, but I suspect my past three years of being in a corporate environment had something to do with it. Yay, Neiman's!

Which leads to lesson 7: when stuck in a chat rut, ask questions. They can be anything. Where they got their cute shoes. What their favorite TV show is. Where they're from. Even the fucking weather of their cities. It's surprising how effortless it is to get a conversation going.

We met up with Kat after our 2nd screening (which was our best by the way; 3/4 full theater and we conducted the Q&A like pros) at Metro Coffee, which is a sure sign she liked our film enough to spend another hour with us. Kidding. She would've done the same even if she hated it; that's how cool she is. She's prepping for her new film, "Jumping Off Bridges," which sounds very promising. I'm counting on this one to be her breakthrough project. She deserves a break, let's hope this is it.

Off the top of my head, some random highlights: hearing Marcia Gay Harden at an acting panel revealing how things haven't really changed for her after the Oscar nod; very unexpectedly running into Denton Everett outside the Paramount, who's moving back to Texas after a nine-month stint in LA; meeting Chuck and his gal pal (sorry I had to oh-so-bluntly ask if you guys were an item); turning around to Christine Vachon wearing a trench coat and combat boots; seeing Elvis Mitchell's incredible dreadlocks; a brief sighting of Wayne Coyne chatting with a friend; Todd Solondz and "Palindromes"; our morning radio interview with a shock-jock who has actually seen "After Life"; our TV interview recorded right after one was done with Jason Behr (where he stood about ten feet away from us while I whispered very loudly to David: wasn't he Sarah Michelle Gellar's boyfriend in "The Grudge"?); exchanging opinions of film scores with Howard Shore protégé Jeff Grace; John Larson telling me he has actually heard of "Happy Birthday"; James' daring question at the acquisitions panel where he challenged the distributors to assure artistic filmmakers that it's really not all that bleak and impossible; producer Daniel Long sharing some firsthand celebrity gossip about a certain rapper/actor; picking up tons of free CDs and magazines at the convention; and my short-term obsession with the guy who was sitting in a toilet at the Dobie for at least two hours (I seriously wondered if he was dead). Whoever you are, just say no!

To wrap it up, lesson 8: the friends who stick with you today will be the ones who stick with you tomorrow. In other words, stick with them. I know, it's a no-brainer, but I still find myself amaze from time to time when I realize that I've already known and worked with these guys for half a decade and we're still getting along fabulously. On that note, please check out these alternate versions of our SXSW experience.

SXSW (Dobie)
March 11 (Friday) at 10:00pm
March 15 (Tuesday) at 7:45pm
March 17 (Thursday) at 12:00pm

Cleveland (Tower City Cinemas)
March 16 (Wednesday) at 2:45pm
March 17 (Thursday) at 9:30pm

I'll attempt to keep a journal on the side while in Austin. In the meantime, please come see the film. Or better, come see us; we're hotter in real life.

A sidenote for me & co: be proud, but above all, enjoy yourselves. Opportunities like this don't come by everyday. This is what fond memories are made of.

It was a brilliant setup.

Dinner with Alicia and Paul at their home was changed last minute to meeting Kasia and Eric at a nearby restaurant. They were seated upstairs in a private room. I should've saw that coming. I walked in and there was Kasia and Eric.

And Kara. And David. And James, and Jeannie, Stuart, Karen and Michael. And balloons; one hanging by an empty chair in the center of the table screaming "OH NO...THE BIG THREE-OH!"

Were you surprised? I was asked over and over. I was, to quote James, so surprised I entered the room and took a step back. It's one thing to arrange this on the actual day and another to do it a week before. The masterminds at work were Jerry and Alicia, who have been arranging this on the side via secret-agent style phone calls.

There were the presents (a big gift certificate, movie passes, this DVD and a supposedly lost video cable uncovered underneath someone's bed), the big-ass cake, the heartfelt greeting cards (James' was particularly sweet; I would've shed a tear if I wasn't so emotionally guarded), but most of all, the sentiments felt but unwritten or unspoken. That always means more than anything else. 

I was told later that there were some people who should've been invited, but were unintentionally left out due to all these attempts to keep me in the dark. I apologize if you're reading this and going what-the-fuck? It's nothing personal. My friends don't necessarily know or remember all of my friends.

~

I left my party to attend another. This one was for Steven, who turned FOUR-OH, and was hanging out with his friends and other half at this tres trendy joint. I've been warned by reliable sources that it's super snooty and pretentious. By the time I got there however, which was less than forty-five minutes away from closing time, most of the patrons were already too drunk/horny/desperate/fuc ked up to maintain their air of "I'm-hot-shit." It was still a nice club, with cozy seats, good music and no cover. Save for the extremely long line at the loo (powdering faces? Or powder-in noses?), my first visit will warrant a second.

~

David's review of "Goodbye Dragon Inn" sums up very nicely what I felt about the film. Please check it out. Your patience will be profoundly rewarded.

Chris Doyle's commentary on the "Last Life in the Universe" DVD were filled with ramblings that didn't seem to have a coherent point, but was enlightening and inspring nonetheless. I can see why David thought he was a sweetheart at Berlin; he possesses an indescribable charisma that puts one at ease and almost makes you forget that he is the master cinematographer of our time. His approach places more emphasis on the overall effect of storytelling (no dorky-tech brags about using such as such equipment or technology), which makes me appreciate even more of where he's coming from and understand why the man is as talented as he is. It's not just all about the camera, or the frame we're looking at. The story and characters can ultimately be bigger and more meaningful than what we merely see. This reinforces a belief that I've come to embrace: first there's life, then there's cinema. The knowledge we gain from our daily experiences is a natural extension to film. That's why watching movies by itself (or even making them) is barely sufficient. The medium calls for something more substantial, more interactive. It requires our actual participation, our actual "living" in what we'll be creating later on.

~

We're heading to Austin in a couple of days. Scared? No. Nervous? A tad. Reading potentially negative reviews to be published soon? Horrified! I shall stop clicking on this link compulsively.

There will be a pre-SXSW test screening of "DEADROOM" tomorrow night organized by these fine folks. Here's the rundown:

Time: 8:00PM
Venue: Cool Beans

Holy moly, these glamour shots are something to behold (scroll down to "Magazine" and click on the "Great Performers" slide show). My favorites are of Kate Winslet, Hillary Swank and especially Julie Delpy.

I strolled through Virgin Megastore last Saturday and found myself on my knees at the clearance rack, shrieking quietly as I uncovered imported CDs of this, this, this, and this, all on sale under $10. On top of that, you get one freebie for every ten purchased. Score!!!

I need to write something more insightful in my next entry.

My, what a lovely campaign (courtesy of Jimbo). Politics and sexuality and religion and all those other things that keep us apart aside, it's ultimately the connection we seek. Stay close indeed.

SXSW's schedule is also out. Come see come see!

David has returned and these are his adventures. Yes, drooling is allowed.

Congrats to Mr. McMahon for the premiere of his debut.

Michael's latest entry is another must-read. So is this interview.

For an absolutely guilt-free two hours of gasps and "did-you-see-that-shit??" , I highly recommend "Ong Bak." Tony Jaa has managed to miraculously top even some of Jackie Chan's earlier works.

I'm going to these shows next month. Anyone care to join me?

The new New Order is my first favorite single of the year. I'm also lovin' this song, even though it oozes heterosexuality.

For the next house party, put this on. I guarantee you: booties will shake. Funny enough, Brad (our sound engineer for "DEADROOM") had a copy sitting in his studio when I was there last. It definitely bonded us for awhile, even for ten minutes.

I've read most of them online in the past, but its cool factor is even more prevalent when I picked up the Nov/Dec 04 issue yesterday. Interviews with Amy Sedaris*, Lynne Ramsay**, Werner Herzog, Xan Cassavetes, Oksana Akinshina, and porn star Aiden Shaw***. I'm sending in my subscription!

*I thought it would be a funny idea for a children's book to open with a rabbit getting skinned alive and tossed in a pile with other skinned rabbits, but she survives and goes on a journey to the city to find the woman who is wearing her coat. Maybe a sly fox coaxes her out of her coat and sells it to some hoodlums in the city. She has to get it back before she goes home because her mother will skin her alive is she comes home without it. And, you know, hilarity ensues.

**(Do you find it hard to survive as an independent filmmaker?) It's tough, but I do think if you stay true to yourself it somehow comes through in your work. If you're a phony it comes through as well.

***In a sense I feel removed during shooting, like a spectator who just happens to be involved. Sometimes when I'm in the middle of a take, I'll think, "Look at you. You're desirable and sexy? How funny." I used to be a punky, effeminate kid, but now thousands of gay men all over the world think I'm a male icon. It's hilarious. I still see the kid I used to be when I look in the mirror. I still have the same doubts and fears.

Ebert's review of "Nobody Knows" makes me wanna fly out to NY for the next screening (thankfull y, it opens in Dallas next month). There have been other compelling pieces written about the film as well, and it truly reinforces my belief that some of the most exciting things going on in cinema today is happening in Asia.

I was reading the collaborative effort of these twosome last week (tentatively titled "Sid") and I found myself smiling as I turned from one page to another. Not only because I enjoyed it, but I felt happy; exhilarated even, that I've met my soul mates in film. Our sensibilities are more in sync now than ever before, and it's such a relief to know that I have these people to fall back on for growth and support. It was barely five years ago when I lived in this city wondering if I'll ever meet like-minded individuals, or rather, people who I can be me with. Then James came along, and David, and Nick, and Jim; and the network continues to extend with non-filmmakers like him and those crazy co-workers who have been so consistently encouraging in my endeavors.

I've been fortunate. Many thanks to y'all.

Firstly, some adjustments:

1. Before Sunset (Richard Linklater)
2. Time of the Wolf (Michael Haneke)
3. The Mudge Boy (Michael Burke)
4. Last Life of the Universe (Pen-Ek Ratanaruang)
5. Springtime in a Small Town (Zhuangzhuang Tian)
6. Million Dollar Baby (Clint Eastwood)
7. Eternal Sunshine of a Spotless Mind (Michel Gondry)
8. Coffee & Cigarettes (Jim Jarmusch)
9. Napoleon Dynamite (Jared Hess)
10. The Motorcycle Diaries (Walter Salles)

"Springtime" deservingly moved five notches up. The marvellous EPK (which went into a lot of details that freaks like us savor; you know, stuff like the director's process) prompted a second viewing that made me admire everything that I loved about it the first time around. Delicately DPed by WKW and HHH's frequent collaborator, Mark Li Ping-Bing, the long-take, long-shot technique is in full bloom here under the masterful direction of Zhuangzhuang Tian, who has a skillful way of evoking different emotions from different actors within a single shot. A birthday celebration scene comes to mind, where the dynamics of the central love triangle is revealed through a combination of strategic blocking, facial expressions, and double-meaning words. And then there's the ending, where the two main characters quietly react to the sound of the train leaving their town, carrying along the person who has changed their lives. It's moments like this that wows me all over again the transcending power of the cinematic language.

~

"Million Dollar Baby," was of course, great. I'm usually not a fan of Eastwood, but the farewell scene at the end where he... okay, I ain't gonna ruin it. Let's just say that when the translation was whispered in his raspy, husky voice, girlfriend here was a mess.

~

As much as I was anticipating the new Almodovar, its arrival last Friday left me somewhat cold. I realized that towards its semi-satisfying conclusion, I couldn't care less for any of the characters. Still an essential viewing nonetheless, and it's nice to see us gay boys given the forefront treatment again. It never fails to surprise me how unprogressive Americans are in contrast. Halfway through the film, after seeing the Mexican heartthrob doning drag, revealing his bottoms (in close-up), simulating a blowjob (added with that realistic touch of removing a pubic hair from the roof of his mouth) AND wetting his fingers to lube his ass before riding a passed-out pick-up&n bsp;(all this, while reminding myself that this was indeed the opening night film at the last Cannes), I was close to getting down on my knees and hail Gael as the Man of the Century. Taking on a role like this and doing all that takes serious, gigantic balls. Will we ever develop such guts?

~

I guess I'm obligated to share my thoughts about "2046." David liked it way more than I did. Don't get me wrong, it was still quite wonderful, and there were some truly excellent material (it's a must reference for close-up compositions), but overall, it just feels so... redundant. The make-up smearing sob, the say-something-meaningful- then-walk-away slow-motion, the reveal-your-secret-in-a-t ree-hole story, the blowing-cigarette-smoke-u pwards-in-the-air-underne ath-a-harsh-light pose, the heels-fetishizing shots, and the reveal-your-secret-in-a-t ree-hole story again, and again; Mr. Wong is dancing dangerously close to self-parody here. In many ways, "2046" is like a reunion party attended by characters from all of his previous films, but no one has changed.

You're still my idol, but to quote Lai Yiu-Fai from "Happy Together", it may be time to start over again.

~

Somebody got their project off the ground. Don't have the full details yet, but watch out y'all!

~

Everyone else beat me to this, but yes, "DEADROOM" will also be playing here. Speaking of, we have so much work to do before our first festival screening. But hey, none of us are complaining.

When it rains, it pours...

"DEADROOM" has also been officially selected by these good people. We're hoping that at least one of us will be able to make an appearance, especially he-who-can-fly-free.

David's upcoming trip to Berlin is filled with pants-creaming details. We shall all look forward to his post when he returns. Here's hoping he finally lands the well deserved big break.

Hurray for the successful venture and press attention!

I don't know why but seeing this trailer at the theater the other night made me tear up. The flood gates may open this weekend.

SXSW's early line-up is looking mighty fabulous.

Finally saw "Open Hearts" over New Year's, which made me excited about shooting a Dogme film all over again (it's okay; I won't). There was a brief exchange between a father and his 8-year-old son that was one of the sweetest things I've ever heard (paraphrased from Danish):

Son: Maybe I'm gay.
Father: You're eight.
Son: How will I know?
Father: As you get older.
Son: So what if I'm really gay?
Father: Then you'll come out when you're twelve. And I'll still love you.

Last but not least, I have done my part. Have you?

There are still a handful of year-end films that will be considered upon viewing, but for now, here's my list:

1. Before Sunset (Richard Linklater)
2. Time of the Wolf (Michael Haneke)
3. The Mudge Boy (Michael Burke)
4. Last Life of the Universe (Pen-Ek Ratanaruang)
5. Eternal Sunshine of a Spotless Mind (Michel Gondry)
6. Coffee & Cigarettes (Jim Jarmusch)
7. Napoleon Dynamite (Jared Hess)
8. The Motorcycle Diaries (Walter Salles)
9. A Home at the End of the World (Michael Mayer)
10. Springtime in a Small Town (Zhuangzhuang Tian)

Honorable mentions (in no particular order): Closer (Mike Nichols), Maria Full of Grace (Joshua Marston), Baadasssss! (Mario Van Pebbles), Vera Drake (Mike Leigh), Hero (Yimou Zhang), Tarnation (Jonathan Caouette), The Mother (Roger Michell), Kill Bill, Vol. 2 (Quentin Tarantino), Brown Bunny (Vincent Gallo), Birth (Jonathan Glazer), Young Adam (David Mackenzie), I Heart Huckabees (David O. Russell), Undertow (David Gordon Green), Primer  (Shane Carruth), Hotel Rwanda (Terry George), The Incredibles (Brad Bird), The Dreamers (Bernardo Bertolucci), Fahrenheit 9/11 (Michael Moore). 

Merry merry everybody...

Speaking of all things jolly, "DEADROOM" has been accepted into SXSW. Thanks for the mention Kat!

And oh yes, our very own David is invited to participate in the prestigious Berlin Talent Campus for his excellent "Drift."

May 2005 be merrier for all.

I suppose this was gonna happen sooner or later, but yes, I'm facing a blogger's block. Unable to articulate my thoughts in writing as of late, no thanks to recent weeks of moving, Sundance suspensing and hard working at the day job. Head was not at the right place most of the time, and blogging when bitchy is like driving when drunk.

Until I get back into gear again, here are the upcoming screening details of "DEADROOM." Come one come all. Tell your family, tell your friends: it's the jolliest movie of the season.

Date: December 13th & 27th (Monday)
Venue: The Angelika
Time: 7:00PM
Tickets: $8 & $5.50 (Students)

Special thanks to the folks at Video Association of Dallas.