Tuesday, March 9, 2010
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
Brass knuckles and skate punks: The making of "Chapel: Battered"
When I woke up Monday morning this week, it felt like the entire right side of my body had been hit by a truck. I was sore from deltoids to wrist, but it wasn't from any accident--I had done this to myself on purpose.The things we do for art.
You see, all last weekend was spent shooting the next episode of our web series, "Chapel," in a dank, off-the-grid indoor skate park known affectionately as the Dust Bowl. Hidden among a series of nondescript warehouses somewhere in the sprawling (well, sort of) city of Madison--and that's as specific as I can get--the Dust Bowl was a location sent to us from dingy heaven. We'd been introduced to the place by our good friend and collaborator B, and knew from the second we saw it that we had to film something there.
Enter the next episode of the series, "Battered." This is the first (and probably only) episode based directly off a sequence in the prequel novel I wrote (that'd be The Fix Up) about the main character. Originally, the scene took place in an empty storefront, but once we knew we could use the skate park, changes had to be made. I'm not so attached to my writing that I would pass up such an opportunity. In fact, Rob Matsushita--the director of the series and writer of most episodes--did some very decent adaptation of my original work.
Honestly, as opposed to being insulted or frustrated by someone adapting and changing something I wrote, I was flattered. Rob did a great job of interpreting the story and making it fit within the context of the new series. And he kept enough of my work that I didn't feel completely left out of the process. Some day, if I ever sell any work to be turned into a big studio movie, I should only be so lucky as to have it work out in a similar fashion.
So all day Saturday and Sunday we worked to film this two-part behemoth of an episode (the
longest we've done for this series so far). That involved, among other things, maneuvering ourselves and our gear up and down the walls and lips of the bowls in the park, coordinating a small mob of unruly skater dudes, and enduring near freezing temperatures.As an actor, though, you do your best never to complain. I've learned over time--through working with far more talented people than myself and through simple personal observation--that the rehearsal and performance process is made about a million times more enjoyable if the actors go through it all cheerfully. Your job as a performer, after all, is to be game for pretty much anything.
Fortunately, that's usually my natural state, but there are times when you want nothing more than to curl up in a blanket with a bottle of rum and hate the world. I distinctly remember beginning to feel that way on the set of "High School Sweethearts," the horror film in which my role involved sitting in pools of cold, fake blood on a cement basement floor in the middle of January. Thankfully everyone on set was very supportive and cooperative, which went a long way toward keeping me sane.
The Chapel shoot wasn't nearly so taxing. Plus, I had the chance to scoot around on a skateboard and re-learn some of the very, very basic moves I'd once actually been good at (oh, fifteen years ago? cripes). It also helped keep me warm between shots.
That sore right side, though? That was the result of a scene in which my character, Chapel, beats the living hell out of someone (with a pair of brass knuckles, I should add, an unexpected prop brought to us by one of said skater dudes--hooligans!). I knew going in what was likely to be the result of letting myself really go to it. I took boxing lessons for an all-too short time (plans to pick it up again soon) and learned very quickly that, pretty much no matter how much you stretch and are otherwise in good shape, the act of punching will inevitably leave you feeling like your arm is going to separate from your body and fall off. Unless you're an at least semi-professional boxer, that is. Which I am not. Quite obviously.
We got some really excellent shots, though, and I'm told that my performance wasn't half bad, either. I was especially impressed by one of the skaters we got to do the big stunt in the fight scene. The script called for a skater to get air over a lip between two bowls while firing a gun at Chapel, who would in turn be firing back, hitting the skater mid-air. The guy pulled the trick off over and over again and never seemed to hurt himself, even though he was pretending to be hit and fall instead of actually landing the jump. Impressive stuff, and I can't wait to see it in the final cut.
Special props must also go to my co-star and Little Red Wolf bandmate Meghan, who spent much of the shoot covered in fake blood and bungee corded to a chair. I've been there, so I have sympathy for the position, but she still pulled out the stops with her performance.
At this point we've still about two more days of pick-up shooting to do before both episodes are done (scheduled release at the end of March), but the really tough parts are done.
I have to say that I'm incredibly fortunate to be part of this project. It is beyond awesome to work with a crew that is so motivated, organized, fun, and also that gets shit done. Really the only thing missing at this point is a budget. But that's a story for another time.
Labels:
acting,
Chapel,
film,
independent film,
low-budget movies,
madison,
wisconsin
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
OK Go make music videos cool again
I'm assuming you've already seen their now infamous treadmill video, but this new spot from the band OK Go really ups the ante. Seriously, these guys and their friends do amazing work, and make me optimistic about the future of music, art and film.
And on that note, I've got a post in the works about the filming process of the new episode of "Chapel" - an ongoing web series that I have the great pleasure of being involved in. We finished a sizable chunk of the shoot over the last weekend and only have a few small scenes left. Then we'll be releasing the new episode, in two parts, toward the end of March.
In the meantime, you should check out the hilarious radio play episode of "Chapel" that we made with the Film101 podcast guys. It was a hoot to make and, I think, turned out pretty well. Someday maybe we'll even get our act together enough to do something like this live, as radio plays are meant to be.
And on that note, I've got a post in the works about the filming process of the new episode of "Chapel" - an ongoing web series that I have the great pleasure of being involved in. We finished a sizable chunk of the shoot over the last weekend and only have a few small scenes left. Then we'll be releasing the new episode, in two parts, toward the end of March.
In the meantime, you should check out the hilarious radio play episode of "Chapel" that we made with the Film101 podcast guys. It was a hoot to make and, I think, turned out pretty well. Someday maybe we'll even get our act together enough to do something like this live, as radio plays are meant to be.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Ballad of the uninsured in America
I knew full-well going into this whole self-employment adventure that health insurance was going to be a big problem. You see, as much as I otherwise love my country, its current system of health care is about as backwards as an ass could possibly be.Wisconsin has some fairly progressive state-run programs for those people who lose their insurance (or never get it in the first place). I was on BadgerCare back in those first few years out of college when all I had was a coffee shop job. Between that and the Family Planning Waiver, I was able to enjoy an at least basic level of security.
Having cast off my full-time desk job on purpose, however, I don't qualify for BadgerCare. See, you either have to get through 12 months of being uninsured (and presumably unemployed) before you can sign up, or have been laid off through no fault of your own. BadgerCare Core, the program for single adults without children like me, has currently frozen its enrollment anyway, so I would have ended up on a waiting list even if I had qualified.
I would like to point out that the Core plan had only existed for only four months before so many people had applied that they had to freeze enrollment. That should tell you something about the incredible need for any coverage at all in this state, not to mention country.
But I shouldn't complain, right? After all, I chose to leave my job with an insurance plan. There are far too many people who've just plain been forced out of work, many of whom have families to support and far greater health needs than me. I respect that. Heck my family's been there. Yet while I recognize that my situation is the result of my own decision--and so far I wouldn't take it back for all the world--I also stand firmly by my assertion that our health care system is fucked beyond belief.
Why should someone who takes the initiative to strike out on their own in pursuit of more fulfilling work have to go without health care? Why should anyone, regardless of their situation, have to go without health care?
They shouldn't. Period. Which is part of why watching the most recent debate over health care on a political level has been so painful. There had been some hope of getting universal coverage, the so-called "public option," before politicians pissed it all away in the vain hope of placating those on the far-right fringes who cried "socialism!" as though it was a bad thing when it came to the very health and well-being of their fellow citizens.
Because you know what that "socialism" would have meant for, say, someone like me? It would mean that this now empty bottle of pills I'm holding wouldn't cost me over $700 to refill (where it cost $20 with insurance). It would mean I'd be able to continue treating a stomach disorder that, left unchecked, tends to cause severe pain and make it difficult for me to properly digest food.
It would mean that people, like my own family some years ago, wouldn't have to worry about going bankrupt because someone got sick. That's just messed up.
But you all know this already. Today I'm just feeling a little sorry for myself and wanted to rant. That done, the next step is waiting for my doctor to call me back and come up with some sort of plan for taking care of my butt sans insurance. There is no generic for the medication I've been taking, so I'm not sure what the solution is, but I'm hopeful that something can be figured out. Fingers crossed.
(photo by macwagen on Flickr)
Labels:
health care,
insurance,
madison,
self-employment,
wisconsin
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Lady of the lake

Being that the sun saw fit to shine on Madison today, I decided that a good photo walk was in order. Frankly, I've been neglecting my poor Nikon for far too long, and the city in winter offers plenty of picturesque scenes to be captured, especially if a person knows where to look.
A little bird told me that Lady Liberty had just risen again on Lake Mendota. This has become a sort of annual tradition, started way back in the prehistory of 1979 when the now infamous Pail and Shovel Party won a spot in student government. I'm not sure if the old gal has gone up every year since then, edit: Letter From Here has the correct story on this.
Sure enough, when I walked out onto the snowy, quiet UW Terrace earlier today, there was the head of Lady Liberty sunk up to her nose in the icy surface of Lake Mendota. She wasn't quite finished, but I took her portrait anyway.
(you can see the rest of the set at my Flickr page)
Labels:
Lady Liberty,
Lake Mendota,
madison,
photography,
pranks,
wisconsin
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
The glamorous life of the freelancer
I am now two-and-a-half weeks into being self-employed. So far, the overriding feeling is that of an extended home vacation, but the reality of my situation has been slowly seeping in by dribs and drabs. This gig has many aspects; it's fun, fulfilling, mundane, and terrifying. In short, being a freelancer is the perfect combination of elements to keep my attention and motivate me to work. So far so good.For your edification, the following is a list of the plus side of working from home:
- I get to make your own schedule
- Sleep in when necessary
- Go pants- and/or shirt-less whenever I want (no pants dance! no pants dance!)
- More time for cooking
- Save on gas since there's no daily commute and I loves me my bike
- Do the work I want/like to be doing
- Have more time to expand and find new venues for my work
- Far less stability / security; don't always know when your next paycheck will come
- If you're not good at scheduling yourself and sticking to it, you're screwed
- It can get lonely
- Health insurance? Pfft.
- Taxes. Goddamn taxes.
Which brings me to the first major lesson of the freelancer: It's time to turn my ass into an LLC.
Doing so will help me to avoid a major IRS smack down come next tax time. I'm in the process of making this happen now and will post about my experience as it unfolds. I'm hoping the story ends up being more encouraging than cautionary, but keep in mind that I'm no accountant (another good thing to look into, frankly). The odds are pretty even.But becoming an LLC, and then opting to be treated as an S-Corp, will go a long way toward simplifying my life when it comes to dealing with taxes without paying out the wazoo. It's also important to then keep incredibly detailed track of all my work related expenses so that I can claim them as deductions and save cash that way, too. Plus then I'm ironclad if Uncle Sam comes sniffin'. I like being on the up-and-up, personally. I also like getting to (legally) hold on to as much of the little money I make as possible. It's all about balance, you see.
So once I've done the LLC thing, what's my next step? Buying a file cabinet. Ah, the glamorous life. I'll be sure to blast some Lady GaGa while I set up the thing. Y'know, for ambiance.
Labels:
freelancing,
madison,
tips and tricks,
wisconsin,
writing
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