Jayne Mansfield's Car Is A Great Movie

I know, I know: two posts in one week - the subsequent shock to your system probably requires that you sit down and take some deep breaths. This is important, okay, so calm down.

First Off:
I shook this man's hand

Second Off:

This was a great movie

And Third Off:

Email is easy. It's just like writing a letter, only with your keyboard

And it hasn't changed in ten years!

I would like now to launch into what I consider to be a counter-attack on all the negative reviews out there concerning this film. I'll start out by saying that Mr. Thornton (you may recall I recently shook his hand), has no interest in either your approval or disapproval of his picture (I speak to those internet-based movie reviewing neophyte's who regard storytelling as a succession of structural checkpoints rather than a living breathing thing). 

Jayne Mansfield's Car is "willfully out of step," and will "struggle to connect with an audience," says Justin Chang of Variety. It "lacks consistent, overall conviction" according to Bob's Movie Reviews and Stale Popcorn just thinks "the title is a doozy." Absolutely. I mean, obviously when Thornton sat down to do this movie his most prominent goals were to assert his celebrity to make the most out of step, emotionally disconnected, frivolous piece of cinema and then slap a name on it that would invoke outrage from every corner of the earth. And then he stuck all his best friends in the picture, just to rub it in our faces!

Or...

Billy Bob Thornton set out to make a movie that meant something to him. That's all. He took something that means a great deal to him and he went to a lot of trouble to share that something with us in the hopes that it might mean something to someone else. And either it did, or it didn't mean something to you but your interpretation of a thing has little to no bearing on whether that thing has worth or merit or deserves to exist.

I like The Avengers; I thought the Social Network was brilliant. Tropic Thunder is hands down the best comedy in recent history and You've Got Mail makes me feel good (it's no use trying to talk me out of it). There's a point I'm trying to make here, and I think it's that it takes all kinds. With all the insipid, transparent, studio-generated, based-on-a-bestselling-vampire-novel muck that's being dredged up and slopped into theaters, is it really that important to focus on the structural inconsistencies of a story that actually came from somewhere real? 

Billy Bob Thornton is a weird dude, there's no doubt about it. He doesn't use email, he wrote a rock opera called "Dinosaur" and he thinks technology is blatantly trying to end human interaction. But at the end of the screening, a man stood up and (I paraphrase) said, "I'm a baby boomer, and if they made more movies like this then we'd all get back into the theaters." Was this guy some kind of national spokesperson for baby boomers? Likely not (likely - who can say; we don't really know). Either way, that's connecting with an audience. A big audience. 

Movies are meant to be stories, and whether that's dudes racing souped up Hondas around the streets of Tokyo, or a rich Alabama family exploring the significance of war and father-son relationships, it all means something to somebody. So relax, damn it! There's rich emotional experiences out there to be had if you'd take a second and stop being so brutally serious. I mean, come on! Billy Bob, close us out:

That's my guy. I shook that hand (I didn't know if you'd heard).

  

Austin Film Festival: The Aftermath

I've never been on cocaine, but I imagine it feels something like being at the Austin Film Festival. Constant stimulation, moments of anxiety followed by moments of ecstasy immediately followed by complete and utter exhaustion. It would be unbearable if it weren't so terrific.

In another way it's like speed dating (also something I only know about through movies and television). Everybody has their best look on, playing themselves up with business cards and nice shoes and very general statements about what exactly it is they do for a living. And, of course, there's alcohol.

I did get to meet John August, I did see James Franco although I don't think he saw me (his eyes were closed for the most part) and even though I did not spot Bill Murray, after the pixie dust settles (cocaine reference?) I must say that there are a number of reasons the festival was a great personal success. And a number of reasons that it was a soul-crushing disaffirmation of my very hopes and dreams.

Why the AFF is the best/worst thing in the world:

Best: The People
What other opportunity do you have to be around such a concentrated large group of similarly motivated minds than at a film festival? I mean, these are your people. These are the people you go see a movie with and then sit at a bar and discuss and argue and use excessive hand gestures to get your point across about said movie. These are the people who understand why it's taken you two years to write your screenplay because they have a screenplay they've been working on for five years with no end in sight. Your people.

Worst: The People
Who are these people? Every one  is a producer, director, screenwriter, creative coordinator or locations-based cinematography - what does that even mean? Throwing names around, like really obscure names that only uber screen savvy people could ever hope to know about. Basically, there's no easier place to pimp your non-existent made up pretend-time shit than at a film festival. Distinguishing your people from these other people can be tricky, so keep a sharp eye out.

Best: The Panels
Watching the X-Files is cool. Watching the director's cut with the commentary on is way cool. Sitting in a room with Chris Carter as he talks about the X-Files is five metaphysical levels above cool. There are things the panels can't do for you: make you a better writer, get you an agent, teach you super secret-y secrets about making words happen. They can awe you. They can inspire you to sit down at your computer and actually move your fingers across the keys, subsequently making words and making you a better screenwriter.

Winner of the FDJM best panelist of all time ever: Lindsay Doran

Worst: Dumb Questions During Panels
"Um, yeah, so I was wondering if you could comment on your use of symmetry throughout the second act, and in particular could you expound on the symbolism of breaking the fourth wall near the end of the turning point in the third act blah blah blah blah." Just stop. You know big words; good job. Keep your mouth shut.

Best: Being Part of Something Cool
You get a badge, you get a bag, you get free drinks and invites to parties and there are for really real screenwriter/director/producers/actors(?) just waiting to talk to you. And to hundreds of other people, but mostly to you. And you're a part of it, and it's super cool. I mean, it's at the Driskill! Am I right?

Worst: Something Cool Has Nothing to do With Sleep
Panels start at 9am, parties don't start until 11pm. The first day it was over I took three naps.

This was my first time at the AFF. It was overwhelming and frustrating and inspiring, but mostly I met some people that I think could be my people and just knowing that you're not alone in this whole thing is worth something. It's worth sleep deprivation and the puny feeling that comes when the guy behind you is talking about Bruce Feirstein like they're best friends and you have to use your phone to look him up because you don't know who Bruce Feirstein is.

These big names, they don't matter. Not now; not while you're trying to build a catalog of semi-respectable stuff you wouldn't be horrified for someone to take a look at. Write movies. Watch movies, read movies and all that, but most importantly write the freaking thing. Write. Write write write! Just write already.

Ladies and Gentlemen, I Am Going to the Austin Film Festival

!

This just in: I'm going to my very first Austin Film Festival. I want to thank God, and the great city of Austin, the illustrious and enigmatic art and science of movie-making (like, the entire concept of it) and also John August, whom I will be stalking like a deranged but mostly harmless and not at all homicidal psychopath throughout the festival. Also, James Franco and Bill Murray - fair warning.

Flowers for me? Oh, you.

 
My good friend and manager Ditty, in her all-encompassing wisdom (likely enhanced to superhero status by her pregnancy hormones), has given me a few pointers. In addition to her experienced suggestions (this not being her first AFF rodeo), I have come up with a few pointers of my own (not being one to let lack of experience on a certain subject prevent me from handing out advice on that same subject).

AFF Pointers for the First-Timer, from a First-Timer:

1. Live in Austin. I feel this is a no-brainer. This city is going to be crowded as shit in a Tyson chicken coop; crowded as chickens in a Tyson chicken coop (I just watched this documentary, and long story short: don't eat Tyson chicken).

2. Own a bike. You do not want to park downtown during AFF. I just have this feeling that it won't work well.

3. Pack snacks. Apparently, food is scarce at AFF. So gather your Cliff bars, your apples and bananas, your small packets of squeezable peanut butter, shove them in that bag with your pen and notebook and get ready for a day of chaos and rushing from one conference venue to another.

4. Bring paper and pen. And backpack.

5. Have good looking business cards. This one is hard to really visualize. Does a name and an email/blog address and the title "aspiring screenwriter (question mark?) really constitute the need for business cards? Should I put my picture on there? Put a bird on it? I don't know. Maybe I could just write it on your notebook if you want to keep in touch that terribly bad. Where do you even get business cards? What about a poster with those little tear off thingies at the bottom, like one you use when looking for a lead singer for your band? Now I'm over thinking it.

6. Don't dress like an idiot. I think sometimes we writers think "oh, I'm a writer; I can dress like a slob because I'm creative and stuff and don't really care about my appearance." No. Negative. You do care, everyone cares. Shower up, put on some decent looking jeans and a fashionable shirt (you know, the kind with buttons), dab on some lip gloss (girls, I'm talking to you) and for god's sake it wouldn't kill you to accessories a little. Come on. We're screenwriters, not graphic designers. This is not a gamers' convention. You're not getting your PhD in astrophysics quantum mechanics math science (you see where I'm going with this).

As a closing remark, let me just say that I am pretty much beside myself with excitement. I've been in Austin a year now, been out of nursing school a year and a half. It's time to get connected. It's time to get motivated. It's high time to finish a new screenplay. I tell you, high time!