May 11, 2008

Experiment: Day Seven

(Technically, this post should be titled: "This blog post is for Kim." She's been waiting patiently for it. Thanks, Kim.)

Last month, we mounted the fourth rockstar edition of the Cricket Feet Showcase.

After having spent years trying to figure out how to produce a showcase, it took a single post--in fact, as a part of a meme very similar to this one, wherein I posted at a MySpace Group an "observation of the day" each day--in which I said, after having attended another showcase, how much I still wanted to produce one of my own, to get this thing started. My producing partner Eitan hopped on board, willing to do all of the stuff I didn't want to do, and it turns out our skill sets compliment one another's pretty well.

I mean, it would seem that we know what we're doing. And in just a very short period of time, our showcase has gone from the 68-seat venue of the Promenade Playhouse (ah, how I miss that pole) to the stunning 268-seat Colony Theatre.

About 120 actors have done about 70 different--almost all original--comedic scenes with four amazing directors in front of nearly 1500 audience members... the majority of those folks agents, managers, casting directors, producers, directors, showrunners, writers, development execs, and on and on and on.

And just 16 months ago, this was just a random post about how I still really wanted to produce showcases... but didn't know how to get started without a (no, not "a," "the right") producing partner. Because twice previously, I had met with potential producing partners about producing showcases and we always got to the same spot in the process and crapped out on it. Not this time. This team is the right team. As one of my newer producing partners commented last week, "This is a fool-proof system. How did you know how to create this system, just starting out?"

And that's when I realized that maybe I can call myself a producer after all. Because my brain just works like that: here's what I want it to look like, here's what we need to do to achieve that vision, here are the potential potholes in the road, and here's how to avoid them (and here's how to fix--with as little stress as possible--the problems caused by having others on the team who refuse to avoid the potholes we've already identified), repeat.

So, when I was asked to exec produce a film late last year, I said yes. When I was given a producer credit on a film I cast earlier this year, I accepted it. When I was asked to produce and exec produce, respectively, two more films by a director I had hired for the showcase, I leaped at the chance. When I was offered producer credit on two more films I'll be casting in the coming months, I accepted again. And what is it I do for these titles? I fix stuff. I fix a lot of stuff before problems even arise. And I learned how to do this by something as simple as just trying it out, confidently--albeit tearfully, my first time out with the April 2007 showcase, because I was just so humbled that anyone would believe in my ability to produce anything before I actually had done so, ever--with a great support group of producing partners who embrace the collaborative spirit and face every day with an excited, "Let's see what this might be when it grows up," attitude.

Our showcase now has an indie music department, a grant-writing specialist, an entire committee of script readers and punch-up writers. And we're headed for corporate buy-out at this point (or at least corporate sponsorship) due to a business model that works: we're all in this for the best possible overall experience, we defer to those who have our best interest at heart as decisions are made, and no divas are allowed (except for me).

Last night, I got to celebrate a social gathering with showcase alumni from all four casts we've had so far (casting for showcase #5 on Wednesday) that included bowling, competition, and more laughs than I can remember counting. (I bowled an 88. Hee!) Somehow, we've been fortunate enough to attract not only the most talented actors in town, but also the coolest, nicest, dearest, funniest, sweetest, most genuine PEOPLE here too. What a blessing!

Day Seven:

I am grateful for collaboration.

(What is the Experiment? It is this.)

Posted by bonnie at 2:55 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)

May 10, 2008

Experiment: Day Six

Pets are pure love. I remember my first pet. It was a dog. I wanted a cat. But my dad was not into cats and convinced me I could have a dog and be just as happy. So we got a beagle mix and I named it Tabby. It eventually went back to its original owners. ;)

My first cat was named Tabby Two, I Love You. My mom told me I had to shorten the name when we took him to the vet for his first visit. So, it became Tabby Two, I Love. (Man, I was a sassy, stubborn kid. Was? Shut up.)

My second cat was named Muffy, because I learned we would be moving to a very "muffy and biff" part of town. I didn't know what those words meant, but I knew I wanted to fit in, so I named my cat Muffy. My boy cat. *sigh* So damn close to cool.

When my mom passed away, I inherited her two cats: Archie and Ebony. Now, I've never been a fan of white cats named Snowball or grey cats named Smokey so I sure as shit wasn't into a black cat named Ebony. So, on the day I left to meet Keith in person for the first time, the niece of my pet-sitting friend said she looked like Salem from some TV show. And since she's a girl cat, that would make her Salema.

And then came Thwok to the mix, because she was just too cute not to take home. And I've always wanted something named Thwok. This kitty prevented a child from ending up with that name. When we become homeowners in the near future, we will have a Shiba Inu whom I will name Gotham. Again, saving a child from a lifetime of teasing.

In the periods of time in my life when I came home to no pet, I worked as a pet-sitter as often as I could, just so I could walk a dog, pet a cat, chatter with a bird, feed a fish, anything to have a little pet-love in my life. Because pets are pure love. They want very little from us and they give us so much.

Day Six:

I am grateful for animals.

(What is the Experiment? It is this.)

Posted by bonnie at 3:18 AM | Comments (1) | TrackBack (0)

May 9, 2008

Experiment: Day Five

Yesterday was tough. Keith drove the check over to the extortionists' home after enduring another round of debate with me about how fucking unfair the whole thing is and how there's a part of me that would love to let 'em try and sue for it, thinking about all the stuff for which we could countersue... and then there's the part of me that (as a brilliant friend suggested via email this morning) knows it's a small fee for "cutting a cancer out of our lives."

I wanted to write the check for five times the amount, just to say, "Here's how little the money means to us, you fucknuts." I also wanted to include a note that talked about how we had been looking forward to investing in a film they're dying to get produced, but since they'd rather bend us over for this bee-ess, they can choke on a check of this size instead of getting to enjoy our help in realizing their dreams. I did neither of these things, even after Keith told me "the whole story" of how things went down the other day, which included this "industry professional" with "decades of experience" talking shit about *my* business model and *my* sense of professionalism, in providing anything other than "straight casting services" to producing partners. (Yeah, dipshit. I'm gonna follow *your* business model and see if I can someday be as successful as you are after 20 years. Oh wait. I've already eclipsed your success in just five years. Tell ya what... when my friends who are showrunners, exec producers, legitimate industry pros with track records that you jack off to tell me that my decision to act as producer, punch-up writer, and full-service casting director is a bad idea, then I might take it under advisement. You've got no room to talk to me--or worse, about me to others--about what builds success, jayhole. Screw off. You live in fear. Enjoy the stew.)

*sigh*

(What was that in Day Three about trying to stay out of "egoville" on this? Bleh.)

So, because something had to be done to shake off the hoodoo of the day, I cracked open the lovely bottle of champagne a showcaser gave me (yummy!) and toasted with Keith to our successes, not being afraid to just be DONE with an issue--and people--in whose peer group we would never wish to stay for long anyway. Within an hour, we were giggling like teenagers. Our neighbor with the really strong-smelling pot sparked up and we giggled at him and his daily ritual. We watched a rerun of some old sitcom and giggled at the silly storyline and amazing work of the brilliant actors. We teased and played with the cats and laughed and laughed and laughed.

And then we bought tickets to see Iron Man for the third time, walked to the liquor store to buy hooch that would fit in my purse, and walked to the movie theater hoping I wouldn't get frisked at the door.

We sat in the movie theater and made out like teenagers. We giggled and drank and watched the movie we almost know by heart at this point and giggled and kissed some more. Then we went out for a bite and more booze at a favorite hole-in-the-wall near the theater. And then we walked home, giggling and teasing and piggy-back-riding and then falling-into-dewy-grass wrestling. And then we came home and had sex for hours. Just like teenagers.

It was awesome.

Of course, we're senior citizens, so today's been a big ball of "recovery" from all that irresponsible, silly, not-thinking-about-tomorrow behavior (which is probably worse for Keith than for me, as he's on set all day and I'm here behind a desk for most of mine), but it's totally worth it, as Keith's little emails from the set remind me.

We had a blissful night of silly, reckless, not-about-anything-important living to remind us that life is a hell of a lot bigger than our bank balance, being right, or losing "friends" that were never friends in the first place. Life is about having fun, being in the moment, and finding bliss in something as ridiculous as leaving a way-too-big tip at the dive bar because the math was just "too hard" after all that drinking and silliness. I love that my life includes infinite opportunity to make new choices and change up the vibe of the whole damn day.

Day Five:

I am grateful for spontaneity.

(What is the Experiment? It is this.)

Posted by bonnie at 5:46 PM | Comments (2) | TrackBack (0)

May 8, 2008

Experiment: Day Four

I spend most of my days with actors, talking with filmmakers about actors, preparing actors for auditions, negotiating terms of contracts for actors, watching actors working, sleeping with actors (okay, just one. My husband the actor. Fine. I'm not a swinger).

For all of my grousing about actors who can't read, desperate actors, clueless actors, bafflingly bizarre actors, I have to say that actors are some of the finest, coolest, most creative, brilliant, inspiring, courageous people out there.

They bring life to fictional characters in ways that make us certain they surely could--and do--exist. They recreate nonfictional characters in ways that make us lose track of what the "real" people looked or sounded like. They help us understand our emotional connections to this world we inhabit, they provide catharsis, they make us think. Their talents give us an escape into worlds we don't know--and their commitment to their performances make us sure we do know those worlds after all. They make the unreal real somehow.

And all with the lift of an eyebrow, the sparkle of an eye, the twitch of a lip, the slowing of a breath.

It's amazing... the talent... the in-the-soul instincts that can change the world for us sometimes. Nah, it's not curing cancer, that acting thing, but it sure as hell is making our lives a better place most days, whether we realize it or not. And that I get to work with these folks as intimately and as DAILY as I do is simply awesome.

Day Four:

I am grateful for actors.

(What is the Experiment? It is this.)

Posted by bonnie at 2:13 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)