OC Screenwriters Association

A PRIVILEGE TO WATCH

Pete Postlethwaite had perhaps the best face in the movie business. Whatever mood or emotion was needed to set the feel of a scene in a film, Pete provided it instantly, with just a quick and penetrating glare of that ever-ready, ever-rugged face that didn’t carry a movie, but sure provided the texture and grit that made a movie more than that, his presence made it a film.

His face was a Stonehengeof realism and truth, and always played well against the leads, whether male or female, as they were usually handsome or beautiful, and his craggy visage was a counterpoint that made his scenes bigger than they were written. He has been with us for at least twenty-five years, but he never aged. Yet his face gave us the picture of a man who had survived hard times, and they had scarred him.

Postlethwaite, however, could use that face to make us believe he was handsome, with pain behind the smile, or mean, brutal, and violent, and at times even gentle before the lens.

I remember him first, I believe, from “In the Name of the Father”,  the true-life story of the Guidford Four, where men were wrongfully arrested and imprisoned in Belfast in the 70’s, where he was Guiseppe Conlon, the clean, law-abiding, hard working father of Gerry Conlon, played by Daniel Day-Lewis who gets wrongfully arrested for the Guiford pub bombings. Guiseppe gets arrested, too, as he tried to rescue his son.

Postlethwaite was nominated for an Oscar for that role, most likely for the scene in which Gerry finds his father in the same prison, and there is so much anguish when he sees the prison guards humiliating his father, Postlethwaite, and covering him with powder used for ridding lice. Postlethwaite’s face is ghostlike, and the impression will ever be with you. It was a commanding performance of a heartbreaking figure who died in the prison before his son was released.

The role he played was so powerful it forced many on both sides of the Irish violence to take a look at compromise, and led to the Good Friday agreement that ended the violence.

In his last film, he played Fergie Colm, in Ben Affleck’s stunning film, “The Town”, a perfect villain, a role so tough the film spun on his reaction to anything.

Of course, Postlethwaite reached the status of cult figure, nourished and loved, for his role as the menacing and mysterious Mr. Kobayashi in “The Usual Suspects”, Bryan Singer’s dark crime drama. The plot flipped and turned and dazzled and twisted all over the world and left us gasping for air, not knowing who to believe or trust. And Mr. Kobayashi, the sinister representative of the world’s evil monster, Keyser Soze, appeared to provide by his look, questions, fear, mystery, so many things, specially given by someone so different from anyone else.

Every director wanted to work with him, and when Steven Spielberg produced “Amistad” in 1997, the true story of a slave mutiny, Postlethwaite played another villain, the attorney without a soul, William S. Holabird, who tried to suppress evidence of illegal slave trading that would free the mutiny organizer, Cinque ( the name taken by the leader of the Symbionese Liberation Army leader, Donald Freese) and his fellow slaves. Spielberg was awed by his command, and seemed bewitched by his character. Spielberg labeled him as “the best actor in the world.” But of course, Postlewaite was also humble, and said that Spielberg must have said that “he thinks that he’s the best actor in the world.”

He played many roles, and through his amazing work in them, he became one of the most loved and admired, revered and studied, and of course, in-demand actors on the planet.

Postlethwaite’s appearance was so austere and real, and his acting pure brilliance. He was a treasure of measure, a man who deserved so much recognition, and any movie he was in notched a bit higher just because of his presence.

Goodbye, Pete Postlethwaite, we will all miss you. Dearly.

     I don’t know why the gods favored me to see two stunning performances of Roger Waters “The Wall”, at the Staples Center, but I will forever offer thanks, light candles and incense, and be forever filled with the power of life and love that was shared by Waters that washed away the parts of me that had become jaded, and restored my youth and my dreams, and my hopes not only for me, but more so for the world we exist in today.

     Roger Waters reproduction of the Pink Floyd masterpiece he wrote, “The Wall.” is more than brilliant, it is a staggering production that includes perhaps the finest music ever played in music history, along with a phenomenal and spectacular story shared with the audience through use of outrageous digital film effects exploding across The Wall, two stunning enormous inflatables, of a schoolteacher and a seductress, a kamikaze plane shooting down from the rafters and crashing into The Wall causing a massive explosion onstage, accompanied by pictures of servicemen who gave their lives for the country from both World Wars, Korea, Vietnam, Iraq, and Afghanistan. And that is barely the beginning. The masterful musicianship done by Waters, and supported with three outrageous solos by Snowy White, G.E. Smith, and David Gilminster, all played loudly and with skill thought only to reside in Heaven, through the finest sound system ever assembled.

     Waters is more than a genius, he is a master, perhaps a god, and his humility, facing the audience and dispensing with the acerbic attitude he possessed as a youthful musician, brings an immense heart of value to this show beyond any demonstrated by any contemporary musician. There are no comparisons. This work is beyond categorizing, if you have any money, scramble and scrape to get a ticket at the Honda Center, or the last of the three at the Staples Center.

     You will never ever see such a spectacle of worth. But “The Wall” will forever be relative, and always solid, whereas such wannabees as Kanye West will quickly fade forever into the still night.

     How does a musician become such a giant? How is he more than ever so relevant at age 67? How does he pack audiences of all ages in huge arenas across the world whenever he plays?

     His music of this story is more valid today than when it was written and performed for a world in turmoil back in the late 70’s, as the tone of demagoguery in the world today, and the ever watchful almost totalitarian state have become as close to a bleak ending as man has experienced in his history.

     Cultural observer, Ben Wener stated, “This is still unquestionably The Ultimate Wall. Its technological marvel and choreographed precision, reshaping Waters’ vision into a supremely humane anti-war statement,” and his words are so true.

     For anyone creative, especially writers, to see such a magnificent and anointed work will surely make you not only question your own personal worth,  but also challenge you to conquer the world with eager anger, born of the realization that the world is an awful place at present, with so much death and destruction that anger becomes natural.

     And all of this is presented in a story of a young man, and his life and friends and desires, told through the skillful and oh so talented hands of fantastic and amazing musicians, each rising to the challenge and the top, lick after lick, soaring to the stars and lingering there as we sing, as we gasp, as we are dazzled.

     This is, perhaps, the greatest story ever told, and Roger Waters has presented us with something so priceless and special, something that touches every nerve and cell, that stuns our vision, and sets our hearing shooting as stars into worlds far above and beyond our existence, all played out against a backdrop of horror and the end of human compassion and the beginning of totalitarian control. All this is also overseen by a huge closed circuit camera that scopes the musicians and terrifies the audience.

     And all of this actually comes together so perfectly with an acoustic conclusion that somehow shares a small glimmer of hope after an evening that has drained the audience as well as the musician, for it is emotions played by a score, and wrenched by what Wener called “gargantuan grandeur.”

     But we are also taken to small places within our hearts, as well as giant canvases, when Waters, in a melancholy tribute to late Pink Floyd partner and closest friend, Syd Barrett, sits in a room that appears out of the wall, watching the World War II channel on television, singing “nobody’s home,” which was how Barrett ended up coping with the breakdown of civilization.

     The story begins with a child facing the world alone after his father is killed in a war, and it takes us all along on a stupendous journey to manhood, where we are all almost waylaid by feeling and singing, “Comfortably Numb,” along with perhaps the longest guitar solo ever heard, and played so sweet and yet tight by Gilminster, a guitar virtuoso who has backed and played with so many, but here he shines and comes out of the shadows and not only steps into the light, but his skill bursts forth with a brilliance that places him in the company of the Best, so grand  that we were all mesmerized and hoped it would never end, and go on for centuries as we listened and allowed each note to fill our senses beyond measure, enrapturing and enslaving in a wickedly joyful manner that made us forget the world, and be comfortably numb.  

     Every writer should and must see this work of genius, your senses will be dazzled, your mind will be overwhelmed, and your heart, yes your heart, however, hidden or encrusted in stone, will shatter and never be as it was before.

     For here before you, is the opus of the century, a work that will ever be recalled, that will be heralded and written about, for it is something that special.

     It will enchant, it will anger, it will move, and it will change you.

     It is, it has to be, there is no other way something this great could come about, but as a work of Heaven, given with grace, to a suffering world starving for hope.

     Everything and anything compared is but as a grain of sand compared with the enormity of “The Wall.”

     And though the Tower of Babel collapsed, it has been rebuilt, with music beyond any previous human achievement, and it soars to the skies, touching the hem of the garment of heaven. 

     Can a story get any better than this?
 

You don’t know what to expect. He’s a larger-than-life figure in the literary world as much for his work as his opinions and more-than-occasionally abrasive attitude. I knew he was a decent person from my friend, producer Clark Peterson who connected the two of us. But Clark gets along with everyone - he’s that nice - I do not, and I frequently rub people the wrong way for whatever reason.

I sincerely hoped that Mr. Ellroy and I would not be gasoline and a match.

 Since I always over-prepare for any Q&A I’d done a lot of research reading, watching videos of his previous interviews. I’d seen him garrulous, argumentative, impatient, snide and dismissive. To be fair, he was always bright, incisive and intriguing also. And what...charming? Yeah. You really don’t expect that. I didn’t.

He walked up to the front entrance of The Regency South Coast Village Theater, the venue site, with OCSWA board member Sterling Vozenilek who had been charged with picking him at the hotel. I took a breath and went out to meet him.

He’s initially soft-spoken, formal. Rigid even. In bow-tied sport jacket and casual pants, carrying a hard-edged briefcase he looks a little like a school teacher - if your teacher was Mr. Talk-Shit-Get-Hit. At a rangy six, three he carries himself with a definite “do not mess with me with attitude.” Substitute the word “mess” with the four letter word that begins with “f” and you’ll have a better idea of his actual first impression. He also somehow appears to be above it all as if he watching from a high, removed distance. As if he’d always rather be somewhere else.

“Hello, My. Ellroy,” I said. “I’m Mark Sevi.”

“Hello, Mr. Sevi,” he said with a photoflash smile. “Call me Dog. It’s an old nickname.”

I smiled too. I immediately felt like his friend.

His handshake is strong and firm and his quick smile real, albeit more like an after-imaged memory than a true event. My touchstone was my friend, Sterling. She’s got an astounding intuitive sense. She seemed relaxed and at ease so I knew he hadn’t said anything to her that made her uneasy. Not that I really expected that to be the case - but you never know with men and women of celebrity. I’d been surprised before.

“We’re happy you’re here,” I said.

 “And I’m am thrilled to be here.” And he sincerely seemed to be.

He wasn’t demanding, dismissive or damning. His only request was to be isolated until I introduced him which I would have done anyway. I do like it when guests make an entrance. I left him in Sterling’s capable hands and attached board member Victor Phan to be the fast-twitch muscle to Sterling’s far-ranging intuition. I didn’t expect anyone to give him a hard time - or for him to do so to anyone else - but again, you never know. I didn’t want to be the guy who had caused this American literary legend to be hurt.

Victor would be more than capable of handling any physical threat that came his way; Sterling would handle the rest. But even if they had to switch roles, I knew that Sterling could fight like a cornered wildcat and Victor could charm the panties off a nun if he had to. They are two of the many reasons that OC Screenwriters is the outstanding organization it is.

 I’d left the format of the Q&A up to him. He was gracious in allowing me to question him for about thirty minutes after his opening welcome to our group.I always try not to be trite with my questions unless it’s purposeful. I discovered that with Ellroy, with such a complete writer who had done both the internal and external work necessary to be great, my questions ranged naturally from the mundane to the esoteric. Even though I knew the answers I felt like the audience would want to know the same things I did when I started to learn about him. That they would have the same hunger for this man’s unique insight into writing and the painful, deep forays he had made into his psyche to bring that writing to the page.

What is your process? How did you come to writing? Why didn’t you finish high school? How did your mother’s death affect you? Simple, almost declarative questions blended with: You’re a man of enormous hungers and passions - why is that? If you look at both sides of your face in isolation you see the human dichotomy writ large - why with you more than with others? Do you believe in God - and if so, why, since your work is at times so nihilistic? He doesn’t like that “n” word much by the way. He also proclaims not like liberals much (don’t believe him) and he says he doesn't believe that the LAPD suffers from an inbred corruption but rather that situations like Rodney King and the Rampart scandal are only aberrations.  In this I think he’s being deliberately simplistic and disingenuous.  No power structure exists without corruption in this world and he's too bright and has used the theme too much to dismiss that concept.

As the Q&A progressed I knew I might be walking some lines. I never wanted to bring Mr. Ellroy in to challenge him. He’s too accomplished, too brilliantly opinionated to play games with. I honestly just wanted to know, to understand him as a writer. He could be a “peeper, prowler, pederast, panty-sniffer, punk or pimp” in his private life - I only wanted his process, his quest for perfection, his writing soul.  

 Admittedly, I was/am also interested in the man. He is, after all, someone who had suffered untold emotional carnage at the hands of his mother, both directly and indirectly, when she was found dead in 1958, the victim of a brutal murder. No one that I could think of has been so painfully open and honest about the inner demons than Mr. Ellroy. That, in and of itself, drove my curiosity to places that I normally reserve for serial killers and science.

As he talked to the audience and to me, I grew more convinced that this was a man unique in our time. I was already in love with his work being a fan of his fiction for many years. But as you grow as a writer, you also grow less tolerant of other writers. You come to a point, perhaps, when you think nothing anyone writes anymore will impress you. But that’s wrong here for me. Ellroy’s work still had the power to challenge me - although perhaps not in the same fashion as before. But the man was a different story.  I knew, sitting in that chair next to him, that I could never be to be lackadaisical or dismissive of him as a person. His kung-fu is verrrry strong.
 

 Why? Because he isn’t a writer trying to impress you about anything. He’s a writer trying to kill himself piece by bloody piece and there is no garbage or dishonesty in that process that ultimately finds its way into his prose. He needs to deconstruct himself - it is the only way perhaps that he can find surcease from the unending terror of the young boy who lived a guilty nightmare and grew to be a wholly dysfunctional man. 

I don’t think anyone can truly appreciate the cost of what Mr. Ellroy has done and continues to do. As writers, we all “soul search.” Boo-hoo, when I was five my dad said he hated me. Sob, I’m so misunderstood because I was fat when I was a kid and it left scars. Don’t look at my darkness - it’s so ugly and it makes me ugly. Shit, shit and shit. All shit. Try going several dozen levels lower than that to “I had a lustful relationship with my mother and constantly tried to see her naked when she peed.” Or - “I cursed her to die and she was murdered.” Or - “I had a childish illusion that my mother was killed for refusing sex. More likely she was killed for demanding more sex.” Now that’s take-no-prisoners inner examination.

Most people with Ellroy’s dark depths do not make great writers. If they go that deep into who they are, they don’t want to dwell in it. What sane person wants to wallow in bloody stool? Even less-likely, report back about it? People who have to, do go down to those depths, breath the fetidness but then pop back up to the surface as quickly as possible. Ellroy did not, does not. The guilt he’s carried around for decades - self-imposed or not - has created his unique voice and being the quality and honest man he is, he won’t report about that darkness from a quick memory or from the sidelines. He dives into and swims in that rank mess staying there to bring that foul, retching odor and those vomit-inducing thoughts to his readers. Maybe he’s feeding his ego. Maybe he’s just astounded that we all don’t do this. I don’t know and I don’t care.

 But imagine the cost. Imagine living in unending pain for your craft. Say...having your fingers scream in agony every time you type the letter ‘E’ but you do it because it’s the only way to make words that make a sentence - it’s the only way to communicate how and what you know you have to.

What an inordinately brave and insane creature this man is. What comes out of his mouth and his mind is the lunatic that runs around inside there with him that has set up semi-permanent residence. And since he doesn’t own a computer, a cell phone, a television or any other mass-communication device that I could figure, he is at times completely alone with that pazzo demonoid in his head. Nothing mitigates that voice which screams at him from the terror in the soul of the young boy who believes he willed his mother to death but felt good about the fact that she was gone.

He tried to drown out its voice with drugs and alcohol and continues to try to assuage it with his search for love and completeness, but he’s only partially successful. The nightmare that haunts is also the nightmare that informs and creates. I think he’s somewhat afraid to put it rest. Or maybe he just can’t.

He has a quote: “Closure is bullshit and I would love to find the man who invented closure and shove a giant closure plaque up his ass."

  I can understand why - or at least I can because Mr. James Ellroy has helped me understand why. There is no cloture for him although there must certainly be moments of peace. The transformation on his face when his Other, writer Erika Schickel walked in, would have shown you that.  In her he seeks and finds peace and a sense of completeness.

Ellroy talked and answered questions - any and all without reservation - for almost two hours. Then he signed books until everyone who came to visit with him was fulfilled.  He stripped off his jacket and tie to do the signing like the California boy he is - casually, hanging ten, shirt out and linen pants wrinkled.

I watched him on stage and as he interacted happily with his fans. I hate to bust the illusion but he really is a people person at the end of it all.  I came away with such a deep appreciation. I didn’t expect to be moved by him. Amused, entertained, informed - yes. Moved...? No. That was a complete and thrilling surprise

I really like James Ellroy - as a person. He’s not asking for pity or understanding or anything at all. He likes making money; he enjoys writing, and he continues to do both well. He knows he’s been given a gift and a curse. One does not necessarily negate the other - to both good and bad effect in his life. And I do understand that dichotomy if only from the perspective of my own life.

If you toss aside the way the message is sometimes disseminated - dismissively, with an impatient growl, or with apparent defensive hubris, you can always hear the truth inside James Ellroy’s thoughts. A pineapple is both the outer skin and the sweet flesh inside. Ellroy may scowl and growl and prowl the auditorium, but underneath is the voice of a dark angel who is telling you that he knows your pain, he understands your fears. He brings them up from his stinking depths, vomits them forth, so you don’t really have to. He is our darkness, and he is our joy at times because there is an underlying message of redemption to his voice be it his incredible prose or the poetry of his measured speech and thoughts he freely shares in a live venue.

In my opinion if you take offense at him or any of his message you’re not really listening to what he’s saying. On Saturday, November 13, 2010, that message was in full force: Be honest. With yourself, with your writing. It’s the only way to truly be at peace.

Thank you, James. We are the more fulfilled and fully informed for that simple and profound thought that you live each and every day.

If you missed this event, punch yourself in the face for being so short-sighted. But if you get a chance to see James Ellroy speak, do not repeat that mistake.

Thanks to Mr. James Ellroy, his assistant Lisa (I’ll reserve her last name,) my friend super-producer Clark Peterson who is also a friend of Dog’s and the staff of the Regency South Coast Village Theater (especially Larry Porricelli.) And of course, the Orange County Screenwriters board of directors who do the scut work necessary to bring these events to you - like Toby Wallwork who headed up the subcommittee for this event.

 “Rampart” written by James Ellroy, produced by Clark Peterson and Lightstream Pictures is filming now in Los Angeles.  

“James Ellroy’s L.A. - City of Demons” is filming now and will premiere on Discovery Channel in January 2011.

 “The Hilliker Curse” is James Ellroy’s latest book, a non-fiction examination of his life after giving up the quest to find his mother’s killer on sale everywhere.

All, don't forget this Saturday at the Regency South Coast Village Theatre our guest is writer James Ellroy.  His latest, "Rampart" is filming now in L.A.

Details below or here;

~~~

'Rampart' movie kicks into production
November 9, 2010 | 12:27 pm
by Richard Verrier

In the late 1990s, the Los Angeles Police Department’s Rampart division was caught up in the worst corruption scandal in the department’s history.

It didn’t take long for Hollywood to mine the subject matter. The scandal, in which dozens of officers in Rampart’s anti-gang unit were accused of serious misconduct, including perjury and evidence tampering, heavily influenced the FX series “The Shield” and the 2001 movie “Training Day,” starring Denzel Washington and Ethan Hawke.

Now comes “Rampart,” a film from director Oren Moverman (“The Messenger”) and film noir writer James Ellroy (“L.A. Confidential” and “Black Dahlia”). Starring Woody Harrelson, the movie recently began filming in Boyle Heights and other local neighborhoods.

“Rampart,” which doesn’t yet have a distributor but is expected to be released next year, tells the story of a veteran police officer played by Harrelson who gets caught up in the events of Rampart in the late 1990s. He is joined by an all-star cast that includes Sigourney Weaver, Robin Wright, Ice Cube and Steve Buscemi.

The independently produced movie is being shot over 35 days in various communities served by the Rampart precinct, including Echo Park and MacArthur Park. The crew filmed last week at the former Rampart station on 3rd Street (the precinct has since moved to a new location on West 6th Street).

“We can truly say the city is a character in this film,"said Lawrence Inglee, president of Lightstream Pictures, which is producing “Rampart.”

Filmmakers are taking pains to use actual L.A. locations that are in the script, such as City Hall, the Parker Center and a number of well-known eateries, including Tommy’s burger joint at Beverly and Rampart boulevards, Johnny’s Shrimp Boat and the historic Pacific Dining Car in downtown Los Angeles, a favorite of Ellroy’s.

“I love the place," Ellroy said. “It’s dark and cavernous and I got married there.”

Although it's an L.A.-based story, there was no guarantee the movie would be shot locally.

“It was challenge for us to find a [financial] partner who was willing to support the idea of filming in Los Angeles,” Inglee said, alluding to the fact that many other states offer more favorable tax breaks to filmmakers. "Rampart," which had been on a waiting list to receive a California film tax credit, eventually received approval for a credit. The film, budgeted at less than than $20 million, is being bankrolled by Las Vegas-based Amalgam Features.

Ellroy, who shares a writing credit with Moverman and is an unabashed supporter of the LAPD, said he was inspired to write the script because he wanted to “set the record straight" about the scandal. He said media coverage of the story, which was broken by the Los Angeles Times, was “overblown” and unfairly tarnished the department's reputation.

“This is a radically different take on what happened in 1999,” Ellroy said. “This is a good portrayal of a clean, hard-charging police department with the requisite number of bad cops to flesh out any Ellroy story.”

However, Inglee stressed that movie is not an attempt to present an actual account what happened at Rampart or take a position on the LAPD.

“It plays against the backdrop of the Rampart scandal, but it’s a fictional story,” Inglee said. “It’s an exploration of what it means to be a police officer in a troubled urban environment.”

-- Richard Verrier

http://latimesblogs.latimes.com/entertainmentnewsbuzz/2010/11/-rampart-movie-kicks-into-production.html

There are a few places that always invoke a magical feeling for me:  A college campus - filled with such endless possibilities and energy, a music studio where you gather to make individual pieces sound like God's voice (no matter the genre,) and a movie set where all that is combined into one experience.

It's fitting that OCSWA member Robert Rollins' featurette should have the word "magic" in the title because it doesn't matter if you're shooting something on your iPhone or you're on a James Cameron film the putting together of what was once only an vague idea is simply...well, magic.

Robert and his crew (I'd list them but there are too many) looked to me like any group of working professionals at O'Neill Regional Park where they had sets built for the production.  There was no way by just watching to say if the film was being shot for $1,000.00 or $100,000.00.  Well, okay, Robert didn't have a huge Kraft services budget or any honey wagons (portable bathrooms) and the stars' dressing rooms weren't air-conditioned trailers but rather a tent pitched to the side of the campground set but the movement, the temperament, the work ethic was business-like and professionally done.  

But, as with all sets, it goes beyond just the physical aspects of the shoot just like a film goes far beyond the script.  The people there loved what they were doing - it was easy to tell.  Sweating in the unseasonable heat, working with difficult terrain, trying to move quickly but not hastily to make their day, they all still had smiles and that glow of a group who were doing what they wanted to do - no loved what they were doing.

One P.A. (production assistant,) Crystal, a 20-yr-old with a brilliant smile  and zero experience couldn't stop grinning all the time I saw her.  She was practically vibrating with excitement at being involved in a legitimate production even though her basic job as P.A. is to go get things and do things that others didn't want to do.  If someone could have snapped a Kirlian photograph of her aura I'm sure it would have been sparkling like the people in the recent music video by Katy Perry "Firework."

It was also gratifying to see how many OCSWA people had come to the production from many different directions.  This is exactly why OCSWA was founded - to provide networking opportunities that allow film people to do what they love to do - make films.  Since all film is a collaborative endeavor, networking is exactly what needs to be done to promote yourself and your skill set.

Crystal, the aforementioned P.A. was a "six degrees of separation" example since she came to the production through OCSWA board member Victor Phan who knows Robert Rollins through the Orange County Screenwriters Association since Robert also sits on the board of directors. Board member Eric Hensman was there as set photographer as were two documentarians who just finished a documentary on OCSWA and had interviewed Robert, myself, Victor and Eric as part of the documentary.  They were there to shoot the "making of" footage.

I highly recommend finding a movie set and working on the production.  Even though I was only there to observe and get in the way, I haven't stopped smiling myself.  A movie set is truly a magical place where dreams are made real.  That feeling is palpable.

Exactly how many places can you say that about?

Congratulations to Robert for making this production happen for himself.  He worked hard and long to get it to this point and he will continue to work hard and long on it this weekend and in post-production.  Then marketing it.

Eric has promised some set photos so when I get those I'll stick them in to this quick hit article.

Now I just have to somehow stop smiling before my jaw locks.

Mr. Ellroy will be signing books after the Q&A - books will be available for purchase.

When: November 13, 2010 10:00am
Where: Regency South Coast Village Theatre, 1561 W. Sunflower Avenue, Santa Ana CA 92704 - across from South Coast Plaza

This is a Free Event.

FULL DETAILS

I never knew her in life. She exists for me through others, in evidence the ways of her death drove them. Working backward, seeing only facts, I reconstructed her as a sad little girl and a whore, at best a could-have-been—a tag that might equally apply to me. I wish I could have granted her an anonymous end, relegated her to a few terse words on a homicide dick’s summary report, carbon to the coroner’s office, more paperwork to take her to potter’s field. The only thing wrong with the wish is that she wouldn’t have wanted it that way. As brutal as the facts were, she would have wanted all of them known. And since I owe her a great deal and am the only one who does know her entire story, I have undertaken the writing of this memoir.

"The Black Dahlia" by James Ellroy

On Thursday, October 21st, we gathered at the Regency South Coast Village Theater to watch an American classic.

Based on the Pulitzer Award winning book written  by Harper Lee fifty years ago this month, the Academy Award nominated film featured A-list actors of the day, like Gregory Peck, and also unknowns like Robert Duval as Boo and Mary Badham who didn't do much after this film but certainly showed skills beyond her years in her stunning performance as the lead character and our narrator of events, Scout.

The movie was preceded and followed by some backgrounder information by producer Robert Kline who has had a long and storied career in Hollywood and currently continues his winning ways with his wife, Stephanie Heredia, in many documentary formats.

Kline has been featured at screenings of this film and as an Annenberg chair holder at USC brings a tremendous amount of veracity and interesting information about films in general and this film in particular to any discussion.

The evening was well-attended.  Sponsored by Orange County Screenwriters Association and the Southern California Writers Association (website) and outreached to area high schools, the audience demographic represented those ranging groups and ran the gamut from teens to people who had actually seen the film first run in 1962.

Kline sprinkled his presentation with anecdotes from his years as a top level studio executive and the audience appreciated his quick wit and willingness to answer any question that came to mind.  One audience member noted that all the violence in this film took place off-screen.  Kline nodded and commented that he hadn't thought about that before but it was true.  It was a different era of filmmaking that relied on story and not visual special effects to tell a tale.

The movie itself was a truly moving experience.  Seeing it in the format in which it was intended - the big screen - made a tremendous difference to the power and impact of the challenging themes of rape, racism, incest, justice and coming of age during the edge of the explosion that was the 60's in America.  The Regency South Coast Village Theater is one of the few venues in Orange County where you can see classic films like this on the big screen on a regular basis.  In addition to their normal slate of first run films, The Regency's Larry Porricelli has committed to bringing these classics back to life.

On Wednesday nights, this fine movie house plays films like "Blade Runner" "Ghosthunters" "Night of The Living Dead" "Lawrence of Arabia" and many more.  We may think we know what the big screen experience is like with our 60" screens and home theater sound systems but trust me, seeing "To Kill A Mockingbird" in the theater remains a step beyond.

Hopefully, the Orange County Screenwriters Association will be able to do another event like this soon.  It was worth the modest attendance fee to see an American classic like "To Kill A Mockingbird."

On Saturday, October 23rd, at Triangle Square in Costa Mesa, site of some tragically undead shops since the Nike anchor store left, the 1st Annual (or inaugural as some would put) OC Zombie Walk went off without a hitch - well, okay so the zombies were a bit hitchy but the rest of the evening was as perfect as it could have been.

Sponsored by Zombie Flesh Jerky and OC Screenwriters to benefit the OC Food Bank, hundreds of zombies of all ages and types showed up to walk Newport Boulevard and scream "brains!" at the passing motorists some of whom must have felt that the Zombie Apocalypse was finally here.

Costuming was at a Halloween high as makeup artists from Zombie Pocast provided for the event helped tune up the already excellent looks - Hollywood was well-represented by the expert makeup provided.

Organizer and OC SCreenwriters board member Eric Hensman (Lennexe Productions) roamed the crowd as a zombie hunter while hundreds of zombies of all stripes shuffled, bled and dropped disgusting body parts along the sidewalks of Costa Mesa.  Actually, no fake blood was spilled and the zombies were very well-behaved for the diverse group that was present.

One of the nicest things about the event was the kids.  Although the later part of the evening was at Sutra, the high-energy nightclub on the top level of Triangle Square, the walk itself was all ages and there were dozens of kids, including a few in strollers, and a few zombie dogs who went with the crowd down Newport Blvd.

Some early evening motorists were certainly surprised to see a pack of zombies waiting at red lights or shuffling down Rochester Avenue and cell phone cameras were furiously snapping photos of the walk participants.  The Zombies picked The Verizon Store and a few other establishments to beg from brains at the windows to the delight of customers and store employees.  Horn blasted out support from the traffic both north and south on Newport Blvd. 

Some Zombies had a powerful thirst and repaired to Goat Hill Tavern and The Helm for a quick quenching but most made it back to Triangle Square to participate in a "Thriller" dance and prize giveaways.  Then it was off to Sutra for the 21-and-over crowd to dance and drink.

The event was held to benefit the OC Food Bank which helps feed children and seniors.  Cans of food were requested and brought in large quantities by the participants.  Of course, as someone pointed out, Zombies eat brains and not canned chili so they really had little use for it. 

I can sum up this event in one massive word - FUN!  Next year should be even better since the organizers had little time and resources to get this event put on.

Look for continuing information at oczombiewalk.com on future walks and perhaps even an upcoming  dodgeball competition or two between OC Zombies and L.A. Zombies.

If you want to celebrate your fellow story-tellers at a class Orange County event, make sure to set aside 5 days next year, around this time to attend the 2nd Annual Anaheim International Film Festival.

Through the brilliance of our fearless leader Mark Sevi agreeing to sponsor the shorts programs, I spent four days at the Anaheim International Film Festival viewing some 16 film shorts - and there was not a bad one in the bunch.  

Some of the subject matter did not particularly appeal to me BUT they were uniformly of high production value and the narratives all well written.    There were approximately 80 in all, spread over 10 sessions and I had only intended to attend one day, two tops.  Next year I may just take a sleeping bag there as there was so much high quality on the screen, it would have been great to see a lot more.  I also managed to squeeze in a workshop session and 3 feature length titles, including the one tonight, "Under The Boardwalk: The Monopoly Story" which I understand one top honors for long form documentary. 

I think I also saw what will be the winner for short form presentations, "She Wore Silver Wings"  the story of the largly unsung volunteer female pilots who ferried all manner of military aircraft (from fighters to bombers) from the factories to where they could be turned over to combat pilots.  

 The theatre was packed, as Doremus, who was brought up in Newport Beach and Santa Ana, is well-known and liked by locals, including many students from the high school he teaches at in Santa Ana, Orange County High School of the Arts. 

He is a young director, and has had his first two films, "Spooner", and "Douchebag," play the Newport Beach Film Festival, and "Douchebag" was accepted and played at Sundance, where it got great audience and critical reaction. 

Many of the audience had knowledge of the film, and came dressed as "Douchebag" characters.

The film is the story of quot;Douchebag", Sam Nussbaum, who on the verge of his wedding, leads his estranged brother on a wild goose chase to find his first girlfriend from childhood. But the movie is much more than that, it is darkly humorous, and Andrew Dickler, playing the title character, gives a great performance as an obnoxious know-it-all, with a huge, streaked red beard of which even Santa would be envious, who also has a drop dead gorgeous fiance. 

The two brothers embark on a road trip to Palm Springs, with accompanying encounters and verbal repartee, where Sam finally comes to the realization what a "douchebag" he is

There are scenes, like Dickler's speech about being a vegetarian, and the scene of two brothers fooling around in the motel room, are absolutely fantastic and give Doremus far more credibility than a second film usually would.

Q & A with Drake Doremus, Andrew Dickler, Ben York Jones - the director and stars, and all were screenwriters, of this motion  picture, "DOUCHEBAG", now playing at the Regency South Coast Village Theatre.