The Squeaky Wheel

Peter Liguori the president of Fox recently made some very interesting comments regarding network's increased responsibility to even a minority of viewers when it comes to any cancellation in light of the recent popularity of serialized television.

Granted, he was talking about the backlash regarding the premature deletion of 'Reunion' but still it's quite an amazing thought.

Network accountability to finish a story regardless of the shows performance simply for the merit of telling a complete story and not leaving any viewers displeased with being ripped out of their fantasy world without answers.

This is doubly interesting due to the fact that I'd say 90% of series finales fall into the category of either disappointing, predictable or gimmicks. Unless it's Joss Whedon then it falls into 'try to kill off as many people as possible'.

Also, though a rabid fan of some serialized shows (Alias, Lost, Veronica Mars etc.) this gets to the heart of something which has troubled me about my personal favorite genre of television in recent years: The Novelistic Program.
Since HBO had success with The Sopranos and Six Feet Under more and more shows follow a deliberate slow pace, focussing on characters and emotions flowering rather than quick moving plots and goddamn if I'm not a sucker for it.

With the exception of 'Rome' and maybe 'Brotherhood'(which I havent gotten to yet) I watch almost every one of the shows which operate like this religiously and enjoying these shows one quickly realizes the major problem with them. They cannot be cancelled.

To cancel one of these shows, even at the end of a season (finales tend to either be so epic you MUST know what happens to the characters next or so gentle it blends into the next season seemlessly) that it's akin to ripping a novel i'm enjoying out of my hands, tearing off the bit I havent read and throwing it in a fire. Not only don't I get to know what happens to the characters but the likelyhood I ever will is incredibly slim.

That's not to say shows haven't been cancelled. Carnivale did only two seasons though the finale of season two was pretty ...umm..final. Huff was recently aborted as well and unfortunately wasn't quite so wrapped up but there's something about Huff where you never had any idea where it was going so you can kind of grudgingly accept the departure of the characters.

Deadwood presents an interesting case as it has for all intents and purposes been cancelled but fan outrage and the fact that creator David Milch is so well respected and forceful allowed a concession of two 2 hour movies to help wrap up the series. And that might be the way to go as a show which tends to show a single day per episode potentially could have gone on forever (hey , bonanza did, didn't it?).

I'm left on the fence though. As a fan I'd only be pleased to see all my novelistic shows be wrapped up eloquently like 'Six Feet Under' did (heck even the serial shows. Alias was pretty satisfying) but as a person interested in the industry and creating art there is definitely a danger of studios completely bending to the will of a minority of fans. For every resurrected 'Reunion' 10 shows which could be amazing will get ousted a spot on the dial.

So should I get to find out what happend to Jared on 'The Pretender' or what the hell was up with 'John Doe" (note:basically the same show) just because I REALLY REALLY want to even though obviously millions of other people stopped giving a shit years ago?

And why did I go on that rant about novelistic t.v. only to have it kind of peter out?

CAM

Blogtonite .....or Kryptoblog

Have you ever found a topic that seems completely outside of your ability to blog about?

Keep in mind my idea of a blog tends to be stream of consciousness, poorly spelled and quite often chockablock with made up words. yet...

I cannot blog about comedy without it turning into nonsense.
I took numerous passes at attempting to express my dismay with Dane Cook's HBO documentary (reality show) "Tourgasm" and how it really ruined most of the comedy by
a) being a reality show and not a Doc
b) by representing Cook as a comedian with extreme chops in the business when he's really just an amazing marketer, energetic and goddamn lucky (who I honestly did enjoy prior to the show)
c) dragging one of my favorite comedians Gary Gulman into it
d) Representing comedy as something that can only successfully be one way. Cook once says you can never say that your act is an act, it has to be like you are hanging out with buddies. It steamed me. In the last year two of the best comedians I saw (mike and warren you were there) got the biggest laughs from self-referential comedy (i.e. guy who pointed out then said "maaaaan shit's crazy" when he bombed).
Were this not unbloggable I would have also compared it to "Comedians of Comedy" the honest to god Documentary series which not only deconstructed reality t.v. and comedy shows but did a better job of representing people who are constantly funny and showed the chops of some real comedians (Oswalt, Poshein, Galifinakis and Bamford) by showing just how constantly funny the comedians were rather than rubbing your faces in it.
THEN I wanted to talk about the comedic abortion that is the third season of "The Chapelle show" and my thoughts on it and it's "special talks" but I'll just give up entirely. Just don't watch it.

Someday perhaps i'll get a hold of this curse.

until then all my blogging will be strictly tragedy focussed.

CAM

P.S. regarding the previous article, yes co-incidence is strange especially since I found it in a totally different way. And while I do tend to agree I think it manages to miss out on trends in, say, The U.K. where that style of artistry is back in and indeed the drunker and fightier you are the more artistic you tend to be. Also I thought Jonathan Safran Foer was a bit of a cheap shot as at least in "Everything is Illuminated" he is literally deconstructing the ideas of the swarthy drunken sexual dude as opposed to simply being a wimpy guy who writes books and/or champions wimpiness.

My feelings are often put best by others

Yes...YES...your anger sustains me

Famous Blue Raincoat

A little lesson they try to avoid teaching you as a kid is: Often you are only as good as those around to perceive you to be.

Perception maintainence is an important part of adult life. For some people it's effortless, they get across what they feel and who they are. For others, lets say myself, it's a constant struggle to figure out what people think of you, why the fuck they think that and should I change how I act or is that indeed really who I am?

The following are two things I've learned about myself from how people see me at work

I'm a pervert, sometimes a sexist and apparently some level of dude.

Now from a guy who's spent a good 90% of his life considering how he's perceived this came as a shock. Normally I'm generally considered a fag, a woman loving man-hater and I guess still a pervert but in a different way.

At work I'm made fun of for hitting on the female clientele. Its important to note i swear to god i'm just doing my job and saying what the manual told me to. But still i have a reputation for doing that. And being a pervert about it. The only co-workers who don't harass me about this are the dudiest dudes who ever did dude who stand outside the store and ask girls for their numbers and constantly have a 1-10 "dibs" system in place. Am I so much like that? have I changed?

To the people at my work i'm just some random dude sleazing on girls. Some act like I got this job to sleaze on girls. They don't think i'm joking no matter how deadpan it is when i call them 'honey', 'darling' or 'peaches' yet they are not militant feminists. Not even kind of. So I'm left to wonder: Am I constantly sleazing on girls and not realizing it or are my co-workers ultra-sleaze sensitive?

Then a few times I've been doing things around the store and I hear a sigh or get a slap and am directed to help the customer who's just walked in. Always but always its a rockabilly chick or at the very least a suicide girls wannabe.

To my co-workers this is my dream woman. Disregard the fact that most girls I've dated are small and wear shirts with animals and sport either blonde hair or blue eyes AT LEAST and i'm sure they could all bake a mean apple pie.

When last confronted with the eye roll I said "what?" and got a reply of "GOD CAM its totally YOUR TYPE." It's so interesting to see my general attitude processed through the eyes of others.

I can only chalk this up to two things:
1) About 50% of my friends in highschool were punks or rockabillies. My Jr.High core group grew up into Punk and we continued having lockers together regardless of my only enjoying the music (i know it's hard to believe but think how lazy I am with fashion). So in that respect, compared to my preppy, fresh faced co-workers I guess I'm more used to approaching and having conversations with Rockabillies...I guess...But still
2) I'm interested in tattoos and if anyone has a full sleeve I want to see it and ask about it (if i get the courage). I guess that could be percieved as flirtatious rather than curious. I dont know.

Maybe I should just start dating hot hot hot rockabilly girls. Except I'd never change for them. Sorry. I'm a rebel who wears jeans and mildly interesting t-shirts. I'll never fit your tattooed norms. I'm wild like that.
+++++

Finally,

I've managed to pull ahead on a new draft of the script and maybe, just maybe will have one that's readable in time for the pro story editor. I'm challenging myself to do different treatments of the script so it'll be a tough row to hoe but I'm proud to have gotten going again. So I celebrated by buying another part of the movie.

Best skirt ever meet best shirt ever:

You will get along well I JUST KNOW IT.

p.s. look at the amazing printed cloth bag Nokomis gives out now. I still love edmonton.

CAM

Two Can Play at This Blog Taylor!!!!
I only really remember one moment of one episode of Eric Nagler's post-Elephant show attempt at stardom "Eric's World":

His manager/pigmuppet ordered a tape in hopes of learning spanish and when he popped it in all it said was "yo hablo espanol.....yo hablo espanol....there. If you say you can speak spanish everyone will believe you".

I think this was a brief piece of zen amongst a cacophony of moutharp

Thus is born my workstation.

If you are wondering YES that is my film broken down scene by scene on post-it notes. Then further broken down gag by gag and with the purpose of each scene on it. Oh and little stars if it needs dialogue work.

Sure, the only writing I may have done in the past week has involved having my screenwriting program open while I watch "Rescue me" or harassing people with questions about my script but MAN if someone walked into my room they'd say:

"This motherfucker is serious about writing. Just look at that wall. And there's a fan there so it must me he gets hot from writing. god damn"

If I just walk around acting like I write eventually my script will be solid gold.

"When my kid was born...That was the best, most important day of my life" Well alright. That's fine for you and the rest of the world but what about me? I don't have a kid or if I do they are about 3 years old and strategically hidden in a bunker somewhere waiting...Training...Becoming that which finally puts me to death. Even If I started now I'd have to wait 9 whole months for the most important day of my life.

But so wait, without a woman being cleft in twain before me spitting out my miracles what is the most important day of my life?

Sexual rite of passage? I think I've spent my brief adulthood proving sex plays as large a part in my life as it does to a character in a children's book.

First girl I loved who loved me back? Trivialized by a) Interior of a 1970s Chevrolet Van b) A bushparty and c) worst dialogue to grace a real life exchange I've personally ever encountered "I wanted to kiss you from the first moment I saw you" Seriously 17 year old Cam....Read a book.

The day I accomplished ____? Most of what I've accomplished I accomplished long after I cared about said accomplishment. Top of my Orchestra only when I was nearly the oldest member. Citizenship award when I really wanted a scholarship. Writing my name on the theater wall alongside everyone I loathe. Graduating. Making a movie I'm still not sure how I feel about. None of these really hit "most important day of my life".

Then at 6:30 am I awoke with such a clatter and it was upon me.

The day I got my braces off

I have impeccable personal dentistry.

That is to say my teeth aren't perfectly white, perfectly straight or perfectly sized but its a brilliant example of a storied human mouth. Not just, as many nappy haired black children have proclaimed commercially, a mouth with "NO CABBITIES!!".

I have large, classic United Kingdom choppers on the top. Textbook teeth. Large and blunt to crush and grind and diplomatically maim anything that should try to come into or get out of my mouth.

These are coupled with a lower jaw of small, vicious and strategic primeval teeth deftly hidden by an overbite. The goofily unassuming upper teeth invite parties in only to be ripped apart by the craggy rows of cloven incisors and science fiction cover bicuspids.

No other part of my body has assembled such a large team dedicated to their care and maintenance: hygenist, dentist, orthodontist and oral surgeon with hands like an orangutan.

Before my braces I had the teeth you'd find on a mould made off the bite marks on the body of a burnt up hooker. Sideways. Crooked. On top of eachother. I had to get four teeth removed just to get braces. I was mostly a goblin child and I didn't notice or care. My mouth was the hole you aimed for when you were pouring pixie stix at your face.

While I had braces I hated them. The tightening which made you feel like your teeth were suddenly made of Jelly and covered in individually fitted snowsuits. Pieces of wire digging into my lips and cheeks. There was something foreign controlling my body, distorting it and taking up space and it made me long for once for the perfection that was my body originally, the feeling that I didn't have a pound of extra wreckage in my mouth.

The day I got my braces off I ate a banana to see if it tasted different. It tasted the same but for the first time I appreciated the mouth around the banana and what it could do to it.

After that I took one of the greatest steps towards my adulthood: I started to brush and floss my teeth not because you are supposed to but because I finally realized my mouth is awesome and part of me and it deserves to kick just as much ass as it was made to. Put your tongue in someone else's and there's always the chance, even with the prettiest girl, it'll feel like a cold wet hole full of broken glass and a slug but god it's safe and amazing, smooth and just the right temperature in your own mouth.

Before my braces came off I never cared about bettering any part of myself and was never proud of the natural ease and small wonders which constantly exist in it.

Basically braces taught me to love myself.

try to top that baby