The Apple Cider Trip

Reading my last blog, I realised that I had not written about my friend Vinnie's funniest moment at the lake called Wedington. This moment will always be burned into my memory as the apple cider trip.

The town we lived in was called Lincoln. Obviously named after Abe. In fact my grandfather on my mother's side played Abe Lincoln in a Fourth of July town parade. As you drive into the town limits of Lincoln from the north you will pass an apple orchard. This orchard has been there for as long as I can remember. The folks who own it sell apple produce in the shops by the road. One of their biggest sellers has always been their 'preservative free' apple cider.

Now this cider is not hard cider aka alcoholic cider. No, that would be illegal  for them to sell as Lincoln is a "dry town" and alcohol for human consumption is not allowed to be sold within the town limits. In other words this cider is really apple juice. It is mighty tasty regardless of what you call it.

On this particular day Vinnie's dad, and Vinnie of course, had invited me to go fishing at Lake Wedington. I have to explain that our family did not "do" lake fishing. We had always gone "creek fishing." This meant driving until you found a farm or ranch where the owner did not mind you crossing his land to get at the creek  running through his property. Most farmers/ranchers readily gave permission as long as you closed gates behind you and did not litter up the place. The most important of these "understood" rules was closing the gates. If the owner's cattle got loose and had to be rounded up, then the next person who wanted access to a good fishing hole was not welcome. After getting the required permission you then "walked" the creek. This involved sometimes walking for miles to find the best spots where the fish were "biting."

To get a chance to go on an actual boat and fish in the middle of a lake was something I wasn't going to pass up.

I got to Vinnie's fairly early in the morning. But his dad had been out even earlier and bought two plastic gallon jugs of delicious apple cider. Vinnie was in the kitchen drinking glass after glass of the stuff. It was a little like watching an automaton. He would go to the fridge, open it and extract a plastic jug of cider. He would fill his glass and state, "Boy! I love apple cider!" He did this each and every time he drank a glass of the stuff. He did not stop until he had emptied an entire plastic gallon jug.

Apparently Vinnie was not affected by this massive consumption of fruit juice. We got all our fishing equipment loaded in the car and went to the lake. It is a fairly good distance, if memory serves me correctly, it is about a forty-five minute drive out to the middle of nowhere. During the longish trip Vinnie and I talked with his dad about fish, girls, school and other things. There was no sign of the problems that would soon erupt.

We all got to the lake, got our boat, loaded it and put it in the water. Vinnie's dad took us right out to the middle of the lake. We got our poles baited and cast into the water. Then we sat and waited.

Well, we would have sat and waited except that now Vinnie was starting to act very strangely. I  noticed that he had started squirming the minute we cast our lines from the boat. His dad had so far not left the meditative state that was required for lake fishing. Suddenly Vinnie bent over so far that his face was within kissing distance of the boats bottom. Then he started groaning.

"I've got to go to the bathroom...NOW!!"  This was said with an almost hysterical edge to it. "What's wrong?" Vinnie's dad asked. Vinnie just looked at his dad, his eyes bulging and veins throbbing in his face. "I've got to go, NOW!!! "Just get me to the restrooms!" Vinnie's dad was completely nonplussed. "I told you to go easy on that cider. Well, I'm not going all the way back to the restrooms. You'll have to go into the woods." With that pronouncement he started the motor up and went to the nearest shore.

Before we got within ten feet of the shore, Vinnie vaulted out of the boat and legged it for the tree line. From where we sat, it sounded like an elephant on a rampage. I swear he even knocked down small trees in his rush to go for a "dump."

"Where's he going? Texas?" Vinnie's dad asked. We waited for what seemed like ages. Finally Vinnie came staggering back out of the woods. His face was pale and he was sweating like a racehorse. He climbed slowly and creakily back into the boat. Vinnie's dad started the motor and took us out into the middle of the lake again. He had just shut the motor off when..."Goback,goback,goback!" Vinnie was yelling this as if it was one word. He was doubled up again. Only this time he was rocking up and down, as he tried valiantly to keep his bowels under control. His dad dutifully started the motor and back to the shore we went.

Like before, Vinnie did his rampaging elephant routine. After we sat there for awhile with no sign of Vinnie, his dad looked at me and sighed. "I didn't come all this way for Vinnie to go into the woods and shit himself to death." He looked in the direction we thought Vinnie had lumbered, "Vinnie! We going back out to fish! When you get done, come out to the edge and wave. We'll come get you!" Without waiting for an answer, he started the motor up and we went out to resume fishing.

I'd like to say that Vinnie finished voiding himself of all that cider and continued fishing, but he did not. We checked the shoreline repeatedly looking for him with no sign. After awhile, we just sort of forgot to keep looking. Hours later, we remembered and there was Vinnie waving weakly from the shore. Vinnie's dad mumbled something under his breath and we went to pick him up.

As Vinnie got back into the boat, he had gone through some kind of transformation. He looked and acted like he was about a hundred years old. His face had gone a horrible shade of white and he was now drenched in sweat. That pretty much ended the fishing trip.

I was, of course, very sympathetic towards Vinnie's plight...NOT. All the way back to his house, I was in literal hysterics. I kept saying over and over, "Boy, I LOVE, apple cider!" And each and every time I said it, Vinnie's dad and I laughed until we cried. I can honestly say my face hurt from laughing so much. Vinnie took all this in good spirits considering.

As far as I know, he does not drink apple cider any more.

I was also never invited to go fishing again.

Lake Wedington or The Tale of the Dead Fish

When I was old enough to drive on my own, summers were spent with various friends at Lake Wedington. I cannot remember ever laughing so hard at any other spot. So many memories and so much laughter.

Once, a friend and I rented a canoe. I'll call this friend Vinnie, as I do not know his whereabouts to ask permission to use his real name.

Vinnie was one of the funniest guys I have ever known. He had a knack at spontaneous humour that has never been matched by anyone else I have been friends with. Vinnie also had a knack of having funny things happen to him. Not because he was stupid (he was not, that spontaneous wit was the result of being incredibly smart) but, because he liked to try different things. Whether it was shooting buzzards from his bedroom window, or making a bomb to explode on his parents property, Vinnie was up for anything.

So Vinnie and I rented a canoe at Lake Wedington. Our aim was to do a sort of Deliverance trip. We were going to traverse the many creeks that fed into the lake. Whereas this plan had seemed brilliant when we were discussing it, we had failed to plan for the narrowness of the creeks. We had also failed to take into consideration the lack of sufficient water in the creeks. And the wasps. These angry creatures immediately dive bombed the canoe the second we stopped because the creek had run out of water. This made navigation of the creeks almost "too dangerous" to continue. After almost being stung repeatedly while turning the canoe around, we gave up.

We decided instead to explore the lake's shores. Of course while we did this we splashed one another with oar backlash and and generally tried our best to over-turn the canoe. While we were engaged in this horseplay, one of us spotted the fish.

The fish was huge. It must have been a carp, my memory is a bit hazy on this detail. I do remember it was about twenty-four inches long. It was also at least eight to ten inches high and about three inches wide. Like I said it was a monster fish. It was also just floating on top of the water. *this should have warned us immediately, but we chose not to think about what would cause a dead fish to float*

"Wow!" Vinnie was super impressed by the size of it, "That sucker is huge!" I agreed and we sat looking at it for at least ten minutes before one of us had, what we thought, was a brilliant idea. I cannot for the life of me remember whose idea it was. But the gist of it was this: We would get the fish into the canoe and row ashore. Once ashore we would tell all and sundry that we had caught it with our bare hands. Of course it never entered our juvenile heads that folks might just not be interested in this fact.

I was in the front of the canoe and closest to the fish. I put my oar under the fish and lifted it straight up and over my shoulder to land in the middle of the canoe. This is precisely what it did, hitting one of the canoe's struts as it came down. As it hit the strut, it exploded. The fish suddenly turned into a green watery mess of fish guts, maggots and the foulest stench imaginable. Vinnie "feaked-out," and leaning over the side of the canoe he began helplessly dry heaving into the lake.

After what seemed like ages (it seemed a lot longer due to the overpowering smell this mess made) He straightened up and in a strangled voice said, "Oh my God! If you had flung that fish back any further it would have landed on me!" He stopped and thought for a moment and then said, "And if you hadn't thrown it far enough it would have landed on your head!" That was my cue to lean over the edge of the canoe and dry heave for a spell.

Of course the entire time these histrionics were happening the stench seemed to build. We then started power rowing to the shore. We headed for the stall where we had rented it. Reaching the shore, we jumped out of the vessel and threw our life-vests and oars at the vendor. We ran all the way to the car.  We drove back to our respective homes with all the windows open.

Of course having Vinnie as a friend meant that the next time we got together we would be doing something exciting. The next time we met it was to make a bomb.

Of Just Being...

I remember watching the last film that Peter Sellers starred in. It was called Being There, I don't really rate the last film he did which was The Fiendish Plot of Dr. Fu Manchu. No, in my mind at least, the last really good thing he did was to portray Chance the gardener in Being There.

The plot of the film was fairly simple and straight forward. Chance has been in an isolated life from infancy. His only contact to the outside world has been through the television. His sole purpose in life has been to maintain the gardens of his employer/guardian. When his employer dies, he is ousted from his lifelong home and meets a lady who will be instrumental in getting Chance involved with politics.

Throughout the entire film Chance is just there. He offers nothing in the way of real interaction with the people he meets. They all read into Chance what they need to. He is merely a mirror that they use to get the answers they seek. For Chance is in an almost holy sphere, the sphere of just being. The holiness is hinted at in the last few frames of the film where we the audience see Chance walking across water. This Christ-like ability is possible because Chance doesn't realise that he cannot walk on water.

The point of all this film plot musing is this, Chance had reached (through no fault or endeavour of his own) the ability of just being. I have mixed feelings about this. One part of me feels that it would be truly wonderful to just be. Not influencing or affecting anyone or anything else. A truly Zen-like existence that doesn't hurt, or please, or disturb.

The other part of me is horrified at the very idea. How horrible to be in this world and accomplish nothing but just being there. That would surely be like living in some sort of Hell. You would feel almost like a ghost. For in reality, unlike the story in the film, if you did not interact with the people who surround you; you would be ignored.

I had this thought yesterday. I was attending the funeral of a comrade. It was a lovely service and it was the first time I had seen many of the folks that I usually work with in a couple of months. I have been "off-work" due to a work related injury.  The event was a sombre one with everyone wrapped up in their own thoughts and memories of a lovely chap gone too soon.

It was not until I reached home that I realised that I had only spoken to four people. Apart from being told where to stand after I got there, I instigated the other (extremely short) conversations that occurred. I did not think anything of it at the time. I was under the influence of "heavy duty" painkillers and suffering muscle spasms down my right leg. So I was more than a little bit preoccupied myself.

It was this morning when I woke up that I had a momentary feeling of just being there. I felt that I had been a ghost at the funeral and was still a ghost. I felt that my presence anywhere was minimal.  But rather than this idea or feeling depressing or upsetting me, it just felt right. I am at this point and time in my life happy at the thought of just being here.

I don't have the energy to be anything else.

The Ice Factory

I had a sort of word association moment when I saw this image. I had a flash of memory that had to do with a red wagon, my Mom, a magic slate, and getting a block of ice from the ice factory.

When I was about four years old, we lived in Springdale, Arkansas.  I am not sure, but I think it was on Cedar Street. It was a small bungalow style house with a chain link fence around the back yard and a built in garage. We had a Lassie-type dog who was my best friend in the whole world. I am told that when I had begun to walk, that I would sling an arm over the dogs back and "explore" the neighbourhood. I had that child-like capability to disappear the second my Mom's back was turned for these jaunts. But I digress.

I remember a hot summer day. We needed a block of ice, I cannot remember why. I get a mental picture of watermelon, but, I think that is a false memory. What I do remember is Mom and me getting my red wagon and taking the long walk to the Springdale ice factory.I do not know why we did not take the green and white Chevy.

I remember us walking down the sidewalks trying to stay in the shade. It was very hot. I pulled the wagon all the way to the factory. I can also see the ice factory. It was right across the street from a "Mom and Pop" store. Mom said we would stop there on the way back from the factory to get something cold to drink.

In those days you could get blocks of ice, or if you wanted to pay a little bit extra, crushed ice. It was generally cheaper to get the blocks and you got a free wooden handled ice pick. It was a lot more frugal to chip your block into pieces than to buy the expensive crushed stuff.

Mom and I took the wagon to the back of the factory where you got your blocks. The nice "ice-man" put a huge block of ice into my wagon and gave my mother two free ice picks. I guess the bigger the block the more picks you got. We then pulled the wagon across the street to the shop and Mom not only got us an ice cold coca-cola a-piece, but she also got me a reward for helping to get the ice.

It was a magic slate. Magic slates were a piece of cardboard about the same size as a sheet of A4 paper. It had a plastic sheet over the front of it. You drew on the sheet with a stylus (a piece of plastic shaped like a small pen). When you had finished your drawing you lifted the sheet and it "erased" your picture. I can still remember my delight at getting this magical toy.

I have written about memory and it's reluctance to leave our minds. It is amazing that something so trivial as a picture of an 'old fashioned' ice cube tray can bring such a strong memory out of hiding.

Portents and Signs...

There is a lot of strange things going on at the moment. I had "googled" a few things for my last blog, mostly to do with UFO's and the loud "humming" noises reported around the world. While doing that I then remembered the phenomenon of birds falling out of the sky...dead. This led me to articles about dead fish. Of course if you look at both of these occurances, you will find references to the weather.

Just last week the thriving metropolis of the Dallas/Fort Worth area had seven or eight tornadoes go ripping though their suburban streets. I was thunderstruck (pun not intended). Seven or eight! When I was growing up, you might just get two, but not at the same time, or one after the other. It almost seems like some sort of "following the leader" game that the weather has decided to play. When I first moved to the United Kingdom in 1980, I was informed, with wry amusement, that England "doesn't have tornadoes old bean." That information was not totally correct, but pretty close. There were the occasional 'twisters' but they were small and caused little damage. Now it seems, we have several a year. Still not doing too much in the way of damage, a roof here and a tree there, with the odd wall blown down. But still much more than the odd one that occurred when I first moved here.

I first became aware of the "dead birds" in 2011. That was also the year that "thousands" of dead fish were discovered in an Arkansas river. Now I think about it, Arkansas also had their share of dead blackbirds. If you google the phrases 'dead birds' and 'dead fish' you will find a lot of reports of same all over the USA. More importantly, it also happened again this year in Arkansas. Dead birds fell out of the sky as recently as February this year. Just what the hell is going on?


I wrote about the multiple UFO sightings last year, and by multiple I mean more than one 'bright light' or 'flying object' at each separate sighting. Some of which occurred in broad daylight and witnessed by thousands of people. I also wrote about this new phenomenon, the "loud humming" noise that is being reported all over the world.

Is someone or something trying to tell us something?

My daughter and I watched the film Signs again last night. It is a  permanent favourite in our house. M. Night Shyamalan's brilliant tale of a Reverend coming to grips with his wife's death and his subsequent loss of faith. I only mention the plot because it also revolved around signs or portents if you prefer. The final message of the film is that nothing happens by chance. We are given clear signs of what is going to happen. Unfortunately we don't always recognise the significance of these when we are shown them or even realise that we are being given a "heads-up"

After we had watched the film, I got to thinking about all the strange things that are going on in the world right now. I started surfing the net and found references to HARP, that stands for High Altitude Research Program. In a nut shell, the articles I read indicated that this program can change the weather. It also intimated that they are indeed using the program for just that. Now I don't know, I am not a rocket scientist - hell, I am not even scientifically minded - but if I was running that program, I would start to get a little worried about all the strange things that are happening world wide right now.

I know there are a lot of people who will see these happenings as religious portents that have been written about in the Bible.

I don't know whether they are right or wrong, and I am not part of the HARP program, but, my "spidey-sense" is tingling and I think something life-changing might just be around the corner. The only problem is this, I don't know if I should be excited or scared.


TIME WILL TELL.

The Big Bang Theory...or is it The Big Noise

As long ago as last August there have been reports of strange loud noises. These reports have come from all over the world. The USA, Norway, China, Puerto Rico, well the list is pretty widespread and for lack of another word worldly. If you don't think this is a world-wide phenomenon just go on YouTube and type noises in the search bar. Scroll down on the suggestions that appear.

Just on the search 'Noises In The Sky' you'll find twenty-one suggestions on the first page alone. Now listen to some of them. You'll pardon me if I don't join you in this exercise, it kind of creeps me out.

Have you noticed how much alike the noises are yet still different? I know some sound like huge metal objects being ground against each other. Some of the sounds resemble wind rushing, akin to a tornado  - which one family thought it was. Other times it sounds like giant cannons going off. Sometimes the sound seems to emanate from the sky, other times from the earth itself.

There seems to be no logical explanation about this phenomenon. More importantly it is not being widely broadcast.

2011 was the year of the 'multiple UFO sightings' with UFO's being sighted in broad daylight and at night all over the world. The most famous - or infamous, if you prefer - was in China. Now it is 2012 and we are hearing (pun intended) about the Big Noise. Okay, I know that the noises were reported as early as August 2011, but I am sure that the same goes for the UFO sightings.

So, the big question has to be this. Are the two related? Will we in 2013 be the world's witnesses to something that will change the way we see things...forever? Years ago I read Whitely Strieber's Communion. It was (allegedly) a non-fiction account of him being abducted over the years repeatedly by a group of aliens referred to as "The Greys" and it scared the shit out of me. I only read it once. I then sold it in a car boot sale and I have never felt the urge to read it again. But the sightings and the noises immediately made me think of the book again. I don't necessarily believe that Strieber was abducted by aliens, I also don't not believe it.

I do think though that the two things are quite probably related. UFO's + Noises = What exactly? I think we will find out very soon. There are more things in heaven and earth than ever figured in our philosophies.

I'll leave you with a story. In 1976 I lived in Houston, Texas. I was dating a girl who lived in New Caney, Texas. New Caney was roughly thirty miles to the north of Houston. After one date with my girl, I drove home very tired. On the way to her house there was a stretch of road that for ten miles was being re-worked by the road maintenance crews. At both ends of this stretch of road, was a set of scaffolding that went over the road. This scaffolding had flashing yellow lights over both lanes. You really could not miss it. That night as I drove home, I nodded off to sleep while I was driving. I was jerked "awake" by the flashing lights of the road works. I stopped and got out of the car and walked around a bit to make sure I was fully awake. There was not another car visible for miles in any direction. I got back into my car and finished the trip home. It was not until I got home that I realised I  never saw the other set of flashing lights.

I had driven ten miles as straight as a string through the roadworks while I slept.


And before you say it, I can tell you that the next time I went to see my girl the roadworks were still there, exactly ten miles apart. I told that story to an Air Force buddy. He looked at me and said flatly, "That's impossible." He then told me about Whitely Strieber and his greys. He believed,and  as far as I know still does, that I was abducted that night by aliens. I don't believe that, but I also don't believe that I drove ten miles asleep and never even scratched my car. All I do know is that I apparently did just that.

I'm just saying that as far as these mysterious noises go...anything is possible.

YouTube...The new TV?

I am a huge fan of YouTube. My daughter got me hooked on it, years ago. Channels like Failblog.org and others have become necessary viewing for me. So much so that I don't really watch television any more. But I am of the belief that YouTube is the new television.

Let me explain.

There may be some folks out there who have never heard of or even experienced YouTube. But the basic principle is this. Anyone who has access to a video camera and a computer - or a combination of both - can make videos and post them on the web via their channel on YouTube .

This can and does lead to an astronomical amount of videos featuring cute pets, babies, and toddlers. These type of videos tend to go viral. *viral basically means that HUGE amounts of people click on the video to watch it* The other type of video that usually heads into viral territory are the funny ones. You know someone falls, trips, screws up...well you get the idea, I am sure.

What fascinates me are the different kinds of videos available. Make-up channels, alone, with their self-styled guru's must run into the thousands. Movie review channels, Game review channels, in fact just about any subject you can think of crop up as multiple channels. Comedy is very popular. Guys like raywilliamjohnson, kevjumba and nigahiga all use comedy as their channels format. All channels have subscriber counts that range from none to the millions. The highly popular channels (the ones with the most subscribers) propel their presenters into "celebrity" status.

But the principle of YouTube is the same for everybody. You film your stuff and people watch it, hopefully, and then subscribe to your channel. A lot of channels on YouTube seem to be trying to get partnered. Getting partnered, I understand, is a lot like getting into heaven; lots of folks want it but only a few get it.

The popular channels result in the presenter getting partnered. These partners then get money from advertisers (like television) and grants from YouTube. Not to mention freebies from companies who want the presenters to feature their products on their channel (like television again). 

A channel's popularity is judged by the amount of views each video gets and the amount of subscribers the channel has. Also each video has a "thumbs-up or down" to show how many folks actually liked or disliked the video. There is a comment box for viewers to say what they think about the video. This can result in trolling. Trolls are disagreeable folks who put nasty, mean, or just plain rude comments on channels. They will also give all videos they watch a thumbs-down.

Unfortunately because anyone can use YouTube it also has it's fair share of strange, nonsensical, garbled, and offensive videos. These videos are the ones where the channel presenter cannot talk without swearing every other word or shouts so loudly you cannot really understand what they are saying. Of course mumbling or talking in an incoherent fashion also fall into this category. There do seem to be more of these channels than the really good ones.

That is where the problem of communication or the lack of it comes into play. If the presenters can't communicate the point they are trying to make it becomes a waste of time to watch. Of course for a lot of presenters, practise does make perfect. But these channels generally never reach the dizzy heights of nigahiga or raywilliamjohnson.

Some of the popular presenters go on to do other projects. Projects that became open to them because of their status as a YouTube celebrity. It also leaves presenters open to that dual edged sword of fan/subscriber identification. Because the subscriber sees the presenter on a regular basis and in a more intimate setting than they would on the 'box,'  they feel like they know them personally. Again a lot like television, where soap opera stars are accosted on the street because the public feel like they know them personally.

I implied that YouTube is becoming the new television in my title. I think to an extent it already is. With copyright issues becoming more prevalent and intrusive and lawmakers trying to control what we, the public can watch or post on the internet; I fear that soon, just like television, YouTube will be so controlled that we will no longer have a choice of channels we want to watch.

Just like television, YouTube will be controlled by governments and sponsors and we will have to watch what they deem fit.

Name dropping pt 6 Stanley Kubrick

My biggest break came after we moved back to the UK. I had been fronting videos and was trying to find work as a VO artist. I also was doing the odd supporting artist gig. From Lovejoy to  ITV'S The Chief I did a few. Then I changed my agent, or rather agents. While I was doing extra work I had two agents, both from Norwich. I then had a chat with actor and vocal coach John. Sorry, another of those "I can't remember his surname" deals. He told me off for doing extra work. His view was if you are an actor then act, don't stand in the background and watch other people do it. "And for God's sake, go and get a proper agent...one in London!"

So I did.

It took a while as it seemed there were a lot of "me's" out there already. I got a lot of notes back thanking me for asking but they already had someone like me on their books. I then lucked upon Ronnie. Ronnie was an ex-juvenile actor whose wife had been a regular on the old Archers Radio programme. They were both delightful people and Ronnie took me under his wing.

I got my CV aka resume and picture put in the casting "bible" Spotlight. I did not get any work after I shifted to a London agent. But I did get  more auditions. I got a call from Ronnie who told me that Leon Vitali the casting director for Eyes Wide Shut (and Stanley Kubrick's right hand man) was sending me a script. The part was for a gay hotel desk clerk who interacts with Tom Cruise. The part was played eventually by Alan Cumming, an excellent actor that I did not mind losing out to, even if he did get the part because (as rumour had it) he had worked with Nicole Kidman before.

The script was about three and a half pages long. I dutifully memorised all my lines and Tom Cruise's. I also did a bit of groping around for a character. Was the clerk to be uber camp? Or just a hint of camp? Or not camp at all? I had to wait for my audition with Leon to find out.

Leon was terrific. Even though I was the last audition of the day, he was full of energy and suggestions. He finished by saying that just a hint of camp would be great and was I ready? With Leon playing Cruise's part we started. I have to say here that the fact I was able to audition at all was quite remarkable. I was waiting for back surgery and on so many pain pills, it is a miracle that I was able to memorise anything, let alone three pages of dialogue. Still everything went well until the last paragraph of my spiel. I kept messing it up and after three attempts, I lost my temper. Slamming down the paperback romance that had been my prop during the audition and filling the air with expletives that would have made a sailor blush. All of this while the camera rolled on.

"Don't break character," Leon quickly shouted. I immediately shot him a look that would have withered rock. Veins were popping in my forehead and throat, I must have looked homicidal at the very least. I calmed down while Leon handed back my prop and we started again. This time I nailed it. Although, as I said before, Alan Cummings got the part.

But...

Six weeks later I got another call from Leon. He said that Stanley wanted me to audition for another part. I was a bit confused as I knew that Eyes Wide Shut was going through post-production. It turns out it was for another film, that Stanley would be doing later. I said sure, send me the script and we'll do it. Leon said there wasn't one yet. So I said okay just call my agent and set something up. My agent did not set anything up. It was his opinion that as Stanley already had me "perfoming" on tape he knew I could act. His response was, "So hire the man already."

 Leon told me all this on the phone. He explained that Stanley did have the  audition tape that was sent to him. But Stanley's method of filing was to put the tapes in boxes and wardrobes. This practice meant that the tapes were hard to find. So in effect Stanley had lost my tape. I said okay, forget Ronnie, just let me know where and when I have to show up. We left it at that. Time passed and I would occasionally ring Leon to see what was going on. The last time I talked to Leon, he told me that the project had been "put on the back burner" for the moment, but that he would call me as soon as the project was hot again. Time passed and one day I turned on the television to find the news was full of Stanley Kubrick's death. I was gutted.

I felt a little like the female actress who finally gets an appointment with a huge casting director because he has found a part for her. She shows up in his office the next day for their appointment only to be told by a tearful receptionist that he died the night before. "But we had an appointment today. He had a part for me." The receptionist apologises and explains that they are all very shocked. "Well," the actress says tearfully, "Did he leave any messages about me?"

Years later, I am reading a book about Stanley Kubrick. It talked about Leon and about Stanley's filing system (it really did consist of wardrobes and cardboard boxes). It also pointed out that if Stanley was interested in you he would have you come out to his house with Leon and he would do an audition tape of whatever improvisations he and Leon could come up with. I also found out what the next project was that Stanley would have been casting for...A.I. Artificial Intelligence. So when I talk about the folks I've met and almost met, I always tell the Stanley Kubrick story.

 The "I got this close to auditioning for him" story.

Tower Heist...Ocean's Five?

As I am a huge Ben Stiller fan I was really looking forward to his latest effort, Tower Heist. I will say up front I liked the film. I could have loved it, but the ending let it down a bit. Stiller who is the son of the comedy duo Stiller and Meara has never failed to deliver in the comedy field. Must be something in his genes. Now unlike  Tropic Thunder and Zoolander, Stiller is not at the helm of this film. I can't help but feel that if he had written and directed Tower Heist it would have been great instead of just good.

One of the things that let this film down was the way the studios marketed it. The teasers and trailers that hyped the film made it seen like an outright comedy. This was not the case at all. The film was a "genre bender" as my daughter likes to put it. Falling more into the range of a funny Action/Caper film.  It was not an outright comedy.  I know this because when I watch a comedy, I usually have to watch it at least twice.  Because if it is a good comedy I have laughed so much while watching it I have missed huge chunks of dialogue. I did not have that problem with Tower Heist.

The cast list is impressive. Ben Stiller, Eddie Murphy, Alan Alda, Casey Affleck, Matthew Broderick, Tea Leoni, and Judd Hirsh. It seems like ensemble films are all the rage at the moment. All the actors acquitted themselves wonderfully with their respective performances. Ms Leoni in particular showed a flair for comedy that was surprising.


The plot revolves around an exclusive apartment building that appears to be a thinly veiled version of Trump Tower. The folks who live in this building are near the top of the Forbes list. Stiller plays Josh Kovacs the manager of the apartment building. Casey Affleck plays Kovacs's brother-in-law Charlie the bumbling concierge. Mattew Broderick is the hapless Mr Fitzhugh who has lost everything and is being evicted from his apartment. Alan Alda portrays shyster Arthur Shaw  with his usual sense of style. Shaw is a financial investment  whiz who has a close relationship with Kovacs. Kovacs asks Shaw to invest the apartment buildings staff retirement fund for them with the hopes of improving their pensions. Enter Tea Leoni as Special Agent Claire Denham who arrests Shaw for fraud. It seems that Shaw is only a whiz at taking people's money and investing it into his own pocket. Kovacs then decides that the money must be in Shaw's apartment and that he needs to get it back.

Kovacs then coerces his brother-in-law, Mr Fitzhugh, new employee Enrique Dev’Reaux (played by Michael Peña) and his criminal neighbour and one-time school mate Eddie Murphy into entering Shaw's apartment and retrieving the stolen pension fund.

The film is clever and it did make me laugh in all the right places. The misguided marketing campaign used by the studios though did not do the film any favours. As I mentioned before this is not an outright comedy film. It was an Action/Caper  film with a lot of laughs in it. A definite winner and a film I enjoyed watching.

So if you watch Tower Heist,  think  'Ocean's Five'  and you will most likely not be disappointed.

Name dropping Pt 5 or Van der Valk pt 2

After my huge disappointment at not having  Peter Snow write a part for me in that episode of the New Van der Valk, life went on as normal. I kept doing adverts for the AFN guys and presented (for a very short time) a program called Why and How. But I was no longer having to rely on the chaps at AFN for acting work.


I had done a commercial for Tonka Turbo Tricksters with the production company Fireside Productions. I had gotten that job because the casting folks were the same ones who had hired me for Murder Story. I had been cast as a motorcycle cop even though I had shown up late on the day of the Amsterdam auditions. The train was late, something unheard of in Holland,  which in turn made me late, an unforgivable sin in the entertainment industry. I know, it cost me a job years ago when, despite running at the speed of sound, I was late by two whole seconds for an interview in an office building just off Sunset Blvd. But regardless of that obvious faux pas, I was the fair haired boy and I was given another audition in Rotterdam the next day.


My champion at the casting company was Patricia. Patricia called me to let me know of work on another Van der Valk. I rang and talked to Ian, the chap who I had dealt with on the other audition. The pay wasn't very good, but I did not have to perform for anyone this time. It involved about a half days work so I said yes.


When I arrived I met the other two chaps I would be working with. The first was Ian Gelder another jobbing actor who I have seen in many other shows. He was friendly and welcoming, not mention good fun to work with. The second was Frank Vincent Ogilvy a Scottish actor working mainly in Holland. We would also be working with Melanie Thaw, the adopted daughter of that great actor John Thaw, and Richard Huw, who was making a name for himself in the UK.

Ms Thaw was lovely. A stunning blonde with a willowy figure and full of grace and charm. She came up and introduced herself to the three of us. "Oh, you must be the actors I'll be working with today. Pleased to meet you, I'm sure we'll have a good time today." Frank and I were stunned as she shook our hands and then wandered off to find the director Jim Goddard. The reason we were so surprised by her actions is that in this particular episode we were literally part of the furniture. Ian was a gangster type and we were to be seated with him in a disco. That was it. Now Richard Huw's attitude towards us was more in character. He ignored us completely. If he did spare us a look, it was one of utter disdain. Not so nice.

It was on this shoot I discovered the joys of continuity. I had been given an option of smoking in this scene. There was already a huge cloud of smoke from the dry ice machine. This was a dance floor in a bar in the 90's. Smoking socially had not yet been banned. I thought, hello! No waiting for set-ups, filming, or anything else to have a smoke. How wonderful, I thought.

 I was wrong.

Due to the number of re-takes required because young Richard kept fluffing his lines, every time they started filming again, the continuity lady stopped everything. The reason was my cigarette, or rather the length of it. When she checked the monitor, she found that it was at the wrong length. Either too long or too short. This turned out to be real pain, until someone found a pair of scissors so I could cut the cigarettes into varying lengths.

Despite this setback, the day was great fun. The director had a vocabulary that would make a sailor blush and made Melanie fall about laughing every time he gave a "blue" direction. Because the location was in a real bar and it was Franks birthday, we got given real single malt Scotch whiskey in our glasses instead of the usual apple juice. Ian was paranoid in case the director found out. But as far as I know he did not.

By the end of the day, I was barely able to breathe, my back was killing me from the awkward position I had sat in for the scene and I was slightly tipsy. Just as well I had taken the train down. I also had two new contacts and their phone numbers for future work opportunities. Jim Goddard had graciously given me his and I had gotten the assistant directors number as well.

Scream 4...Sidney's last stand

I fell in love with the original Scream after watching the first five minutes. When Wes (we are not worthy) Craven killed off the "name" star in the first reel. With this one action he showed us, the audience, that he knew and loved horror films and thrillers. The little nod to Hitchcock's killing of Janet Leigh at the beginning  of Phsyco told me immediately that this was a film-maker that was going to have fun with the genre.

Scre4m aka Scream 4 is the last of the Scream franchise. I had real reservations about the last of the Screams. I was afraid that Wes had gone to the well once too often and that the bucket he drew up would be empty. Boy was I wrong. This was a brilliant end to a series that has always shown a stroke of genius in each sequel. Yes I know that Wes cannot take all the credit. These films work because of the writing and the acting as well.

Scre4m opens with a murder similar to the first Scream films. Although it comes to us initially via various trailers to the fictional Stab films in the Scream verse. We are introduced to Sidney Prescott's cousin Jill, played with great panache by Emma Roberts. We then get to see all our favourite living characters from the previous films.   Deputy Dewey, played again by David Arquette, is now the sheriff of Woodsboro and has married Gale.  Gale Weathers-Riley, played by Courtney Cox, has retired from the mainstream news world and is trying to write "the great American novel" and not getting very far with it. Sidney Prescott, played again by Neve Campbell, is now a writer. Her book, about living through and dealing with the events from the previous films, is a bestseller. She returns to Woodsboro as part of her book signing tour.

We also meet the new cast of "victims." Hayden Panettiere as Kirby Reed, one of the slew of friends that Jill has, makes the most of her part. She was born to play this kind of role. I of course still think of her as the cheerleader from Heroes, you know "Save the cheerleader save the world." But she does a brilliant job as the future "man-eater" Kirby. The other memorable friend of Jill's is Rory Culkin as Charlie Walker. Charlie is the Randy substitute in this Scream film. A necessary replacement since Randy is dispatched by Ghost Face in Scream 2. Although not in the victim department I have to mention Marley Shelton. As Deputy Judy Hicks she rocked it out of the park. Her characterisation of the love lorn Deputy Judy was both comedic and scary, sometimes at the same time.

Of course Ghost Face is still voiced by Roger Jackson. Could anyone else have done it? I think not. His voice is synonymous with Ghost Face and always will be. I can't reveal anything else about the plot because I will be heading into spoiler territory if I do. I can and will tell you it deals with the theme of the internet and it's propensity to make celebrities out of those who know how to use it.

So that's it. I have, like so many other Scream fans I am sure, waited for this film for ages. I loved it so much that I sat through two viewings on two separate occasions. I also couldn't wait for a special edition blu-ray to come out. As much as I want special features, in this case it did not matter.

So  hats off to Director Wes Craven for once again pulling it off. The grande finale of all the Scream's was nigh on perfect.

The Help...Mississippi's Burning in a skirt

Actress Emma Stone is certainly very busy these days. It seems like only yesterday she played the love interest in the nerd-rom-com that was Super Bad. Now, when she is not being wooed by Jim Carrie via YouTube, she seems to be in everything.

My daughter Meg pointed out this film to me. She then rented it from iTunes and pretty much insisted that I watch it. I am glad I did. Set in Mississippi during the civil rights unrest that was the sixties Emma plays Skeeter Phelan. Skeeter has graduated from college and now wants to be a writer. She returns to her home town to re-establish ties with old friends and to check on her mother who has cancer.

The first thing Skeeter does is get a job with the local paper, ghost writing for the Agony Aunt columnist who is having a baby. Viola Davis plays Aibileen Clark one of the many black ladies who work as "the help" to the white members of the community. The whole cast work brilliantly in this ensemble film. I will admit that I was overjoyed to see Cicely Tyson in a big-ish cameo as Skeeter's family maid. Of course I have to mention Sissy Spacek  who has the small role of Hilly's long suffering mother. She is delightful to watch.

Now amazingly the film's main  plot deals with the issue of toilets. The local white community follows Hilly Holbrook's lead on the "separate but equal" practice which was prevalent in the sixties. Hilly has gotten the local government to pass a law that makes it a criminal act to use the white residents bathroom. The help must instead use an outside one specially made for them.  As played by Bryce Dallas Howard, Hilly is a nasty piece of work. A bully who is sly, malicious, and vengeful Hilly rules over her little flock of the Ladies Club with an iron fist. It seems that while the black community might be good enough to clean the white folks's houses, cook their meals and look after their children, it is not okay to use their employers bathroom.

Skeeter is outraged at this new law and decides to write about the 'separate but equal' travesty. She teams up with local housekeeper Aibileen with the idea of writing a book. This book will be filled with all the terrible, funny and sad things that the black workers have encountered . At first the only "help" that will work with Skeeter is the slightly hesitant Aibileen, but as events in the Mississippi town get worse she finds herself inundated with offers of more stories.

Mary Steenburgen has a microscopic role as the editor Elain Stein who encourages Skeeter to write her book and guides her toward publication with her company. It was nice to see Steenburgen on screen again and I do wish they had used her a bit more.

I loved this film. It has the same feeling as Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe and Driving Miss Daisy. This film made me angry, made me laugh and made me cry. I cannot begin to express how well this film was presented. The sets, the location, and the costumes all felt like the south in the sixties. The characters as they were written also felt right. Overall a real gem of a film. It attempts to show that some people were racially aware in the civil rights fraught sixties. I think it does this very well, without resorting to bloodshed or gun play.

 And on a closing note, never has the phrase "Eat my Shit." been so appropriate and funny.

Name dropping, pt 4

I got another call from my friend at AFN to tell me that they were casting for the new Van der Valk series that was so popular in England. The crime series followed the Dutch police detective Van der Valk as he solved various crimes. He was played by the late actor Barry Foster. You might know him as the killer in Alfred Hitchcock's Frenzy. A brilliant actor he had helped make Van der Valk a hit in the seventies.

So once again I went down to Amsterdam to meet with the assistant director and to my surprise the writer.  Of course the most surprising thing was that the writer was none other than Peter Snow. Peter had been a mainstay on British television for years. He was a presenter and he also used to show how the general elections were going. A very nice chap to meet and to talk to.

I was going for a non-speaking roll. The set up was this: A nightclub owner has just had his opening artist murdered. He has had a close relationship with the artist for years. He is desperate to talk to anyone in order to take his mind off his distress. I was to play a beer delivery man who doesn't want to talk at all. We auditioned in pairs. I played the delivery man to my partners nightclub owner. We got given our directions and the camera rolled and we started.

I pushed in my imaginary trolley full of beer. The nightclub owner started talking awkwardly to me. I shot him a glance and ignored him. Cut! "Michael?" This from the director. "Yes." I replied. "You just don't want to talk to him, you don't want to murder him! Can we tone that look down a bit?" Much laughter from everyone in the room including me. "Sorry. I'll try to lose the Homicidal Look." I did my bit again, this time with no interruptions and we were then switched around. I would be the nightclub owner this time.

I was slightly lost. What did a nightclub owner do? I decided that as we were in Holland and that this nightclub served beer, it would sort of be like a pub. If there was one thing I knew about it was pubs and publicans. So we got set up, cameras rolled and... Action! I started wiping down the imaginary bar and polishing imaginary glasses. The delivery man strolls in and I say "Hello mate, you all-right?" Very English old boy. Immediately every head in the room swivelled in my direction. Uh-oh, I thought, I've either done something very good or very wrong. Not sure of whether what I had done was either I continued being the English publican for the rest of the scene. When we had finished, the director asked if I would mind very much doing that for the rest of the actors auditioning for the delivery man. So I did...about twenty more times.

At the end of the day, the folks that had been cast were told what they would be doing. When they got to me the director said, "Sorry Michael we have nothing for you today." Before I could say anything, he finished with,"But Peter liked what you did so much as the nightclub owner, he is writing you a part in the show." I was flabbergasted. I looked dazedly at Peter and he was nodding his head in affirmation. The director then asked if there was any time when I would not be available for shooting. I said yes, we had a NATO tactical evaluation in the first week of June. My new boss had never gone through one before and I needed to show him how things worked. The director nodded and wrote something in his notebook. "Okay, Michael, thank you. We will call you when Peter is finished."

I never heard from the director or Peter again. It turned out much later that the time period  I was not available for was right when they would be shooting that episode. I did get to work on Van der Valk eventually but not on that episode and in a part not as big or exciting.

Final Destination 5...Don't bother

I have been a huge fan of the Final Destination films since the first one. The mix of gory deaths and cheeky humour was able to make me laugh and groan at the same time. I will readily admit that I own all the films on DVD. But I have got to say the quality of the films has depreciated with each new sequel.

Yes I know that is going to happen whenever any film gets turned into a franchise. Although I believe firmly that the Scream films are the exception to this rule and of course the Godfather films. And anything after Terminator 2 is just ______ (fill in with the expletive of your choice).

Now we have Final Destination 5 in  3D yet. When I first watched it, I felt the digital FX really let it down. Then I realised I was watching the blu-ray version and not the 3D one. All right, I thought, we'll give that problem a miss as I'm guessing it looked much better when wearing the glasses. But that was not all that was wrong with the film.

Before I have a moan about the film, I would like to say that the highlight was seeing the cameo by that always impressive actor Tony Todd. I've loved this man's performance's ever since I watched him terrorise Virginia Madsen in Candyman.  On a side note, watching that film made me solemnly vow to never look into a mirror and say Candyman three times. *shudder* Unfortunately having Tony Todd in the film (and it is a shame we couldn't have seen more of him) did not help save it from being a huge disappointment.

My big complaint about the film was the loss of the tongue-in-cheek way that fate (or death) checked each character out. All the prior films had a beautiful sort of irony in the way each person died. Unfortunately it appears that the producers just wanted to increase the gore factor. I can imagine them sitting around a big board room table. "Okay guys, we're going to make one more Final Destination." Much groaning from the table members. "I know. I know. We said that the previous Final Destination was going to be the final one. But hey, with the advances made in 3D on Avatar, we can really make this one rock!"

So in my mind, I think they were a bit too much in love with the idea of 3D. Nice idea guys but sloppy execution (get it?).  On a final note, this was the only Final Destination I bought in blu-ray and it will be the first blu-ray that I take to trade in for a better film. Well, it is the first one, if you don't count the blu-ray copy of Twilight that I unsuccessfully kept trying to trade in. No one wanted it because it had a "scratch" on it. I think they were lying like a cheap watch. They just did not want a copy of a DVD they couldn't get rid of. Gee, I hope I don't have the same problem with Final Destination 5!

Name dropping, pt 3

I had been on leave back in England visiting with my in-laws. When I returned to work, a friend from AFN had been by the office looking for me. I called him to find out what he wanted. "While you were gone they were auditioning for another film. Give em a call, you might still get an audition." I thanked him and immediately rang the number.

The number was to a production company in Amsterdam. They had indeed been holding "cattle-call" auditions for a feature film while I was on leave. I couldn't get to Amsterdam quickly enough, so they arranged to come see me at my home. Thus began what is still one of the most surreal experiences that I have had to date.

The camera van pulled up in front of my row house in Leusden. The lady who was going to conduct the "audition" which was really more like a filmed interview, brought all the equipment and crew into my house. As they set everything up I felt as though I had somehow fallen into a Twilight Zone episode. While the interview was being conducted my Dutch and American neighbours kept walking past my house and glancing curiously in the front window. I cannot stress how unreal this whole situation was. I was being treated almost like a celebrity and it was slightly blowing my mind. Even as I look back today on this interview/audition it feels surreal.

While packing up their things the interviewer said that they would be in touch very soon as time for casting the film was running out. As they drove off I said to my wife very matter-of-factly that we would never hear from them again. In this instance, I was wrong. Two weeks to the day they called me. They wanted me to go with the other 'short listed' actors to meet the producer of the film.

Excitedly driving to Amsterdam, I managed to not violate the speed laws as much as possible. I arrived early and was immediately ushered in to meet the producer. I am ashamed to admit that to this day I cannot remember his name. I do remember he was tall, large and despite being jet-lagged full of good humour.

He explained that the film was to be directed by the chap who was assistant director on The Company of Wolves. Another name I cannot for the life of me remember. The part I would be playing would be in the entire film and I would be one of the last cast members to be killed off. My character was to be a "computer geek" who would be shot right between the eyes towards the end of the film. The producer said that as far as he was concerned I had the part. Shooting would begin in a few weeks time in and around Amsterdam. The entire shoot would last for six to eight weeks.He expressed  concerns about my having problems getting time away from the USAF and how they would react to the film's theme.

I need to explain here that the film was a little bit anti-military. The plot had to do with a nuclear shelter and some sort of stress test for the military members inside it. It did not put the military in a positive light. I could have cared less. This was the kind of part I had dreamed of. Not only would my character have been critical to the film, but I got killed!!! Shot right between the eyes yet! I was over the moon.

The producer then said I would have a camera test (he stressed repeatedly that this was not a screen test as I had the part already) with the director in a couple of weeks time. This would coincide with make-up tests and costume fittings. He asked me to leave my phone number with him and I would be told where to go and when.

Three weeks went by with no word. I decided to call the company who had come out for my "audition." When I finally got through it was to hear the depressing news that funding for the project had fallen through. The green light had gone red.

Name dropping, pt 2

While I was stationed in Holland with the USAF I got to work quite a lot. Mostly I did adverts for the Armed Forces Network aka AFN guys downstairs. I have always done "voices" different accents and impressions. My then boss mentioned this to the AFN guys who ran upstairs and begged me to do some spots for them on the radio. It seems that they were all tired of hearing themselves on the airways and were desperate for some kind of change. So for a four year time period I did adverts and the occasional live show. It was fun and kept my diction sharp as well making me work on my stale impressions.

It was through the AFN guys that I got most of the work I did while stationed in The Netherlands. I had a friend from AFN come up and ask me, "Didn't you act some?" I owned up quickly sensing this could mean work. "Well they're making a film and they're looking for American and English actors. Call this number." So I did.

The film was called Murder Story, the Movie it was being produced by Elstree Film Studios. The folks who brought us Eastenders on the telly every week. The film was to feature the master Christopher Lee and an unknown  young actor Alexis Denisof. I was beside myself with excitement. The chance to work with Dracula himself! I had been a fan of Mr Lee's since I was a boy and  watched the Saturday night Creature Features and seen him in so many Hammer Horror films.

To cut a long story short, I and a friend from AFN got parts in the film. We were to be security policemen from the Air Force base where Alexis's dad worked. We had what seemed like huge parts. We had a little action some dialogue and, unfortunately, we were not going to be working with Christopher Lee.

On the day of our shooting we went to the railway station at Soest. There we got assigned our characters by what ever costume would fit us from wardrobe. Thus I became a Staff Sergeant and my mate became a private. We were introduced to the actor we would be working with Garrick Hagon, a real "jobbing actor" who was lovely to work with. We also met Alexis Denisof way before his Buffy and Angel days. A nice young man who was only there briefly to set up the shot for his stunt double to perform.

Elstree Film Studios had just announced that their feature film section had gone bankrupt. They would still continue to produce Eastenders, but, that was all. Our big scene suddenly shrunk. No longer did we have dialogue or get out of our jeep to confront Garrick. Instead we pulled up to the crash site and just glowered at him from the jeep.

This small scene took more than three quarters of a day to film. The Director Eddie Arno asked if we would mind staying so that Garrick had someone to re-act to for his close ups. We said of course. Afterword Garrick came up to thank us profusely in a mixture of Dutch and English. As we had never spoken, he assumed we were Dutch! We all had a chuckle and our shooting day was finished. I had brought my 'then wife' to the shoot so she could see what actually happened on a film set. She was a bit disenchanted by the whole process. I told her as we drove home that the film would probably collect dust on a shelf somewhere as Elstree had gone bust. I was wrong.

It did release as just Murder Story, straight to video. After many years of searching I finally found a copy so I could see how Phil and I had looked on the day. It was then that I found out why it had been relegated to a straight to video release. It was a shame for Christopher Lee and Garrick and Alexis had performed extremely well. But the overall film lacked something.

Still I was happy. I had one more credit under my belt. Sure I did not get my name on the credits but I had met Tom Reeve a UK producer and of course the other folks mentioned above. I did not get to even see Christopher Lee. But at least, by gosh, I'd been in a film with him!

Name dropping, really?

Looking over my last blog post I saw that I had stated I had not met anyone of consequence apart from Jonathan Demme. I realised immediately that was not really the case. I have met and interacted with a number of folks some of whom were nice. Others were not so nice and others just plain terrifying.

I met and talked with very briefly a much younger Alfred Molina , aka Doc Ock, on the set of Requiem Apache. This was a Channel Four funded production. They were known as an independent company and I remember my then agent telling me to make sure I brought lunch as independents are notorious for poor catering. This turned out to not be the case at all, so my sausage roll stayed in its wrapper that day.

 I was sitting in the "supporting artists" double decker bus on the first floor (that's the top of the bus if you're from the USA). I was doing what I always did when I wasn't watching how the magic was made. I was reading a paperback  book. I was thoroughly engrossed in the story when a face appeared at the top of the bus steps. "Excuse me, but have you seen our illustrious director?" I looked up from my book blinking and trying to re-focus my eyes and saw the face and shoulders of a young dark complexioned man. I have to admit that at the time I did not recognise him as the star of the feature we were working on. I gave a shrug and looked around the bus's interior as if to say, here?? Alfred then laughingly said "Oh silly me, whatever was I thinking. Well thanks anyway. Oh and if you happen to see him can you tell him I'm looking for him? Thanks!"

It was only after he left and one of the other supporting artists asked me what Alfred Molina wanted that I realised who I had been conversing with.

 It was on this set that I also got to meet the marvellous  Kenneth Cranham. I used to watch him on the telly in the long running Shine on Harvey Moon. He also just recently appeared with good effect in Hot Fuzz. He had a witty outlook on seemingly everything and everybody that day and I was in stitches. That was also the day where I found myself frozen silent when I found myself standing right next to the intimidating form of   Brian Blessed. 

I was watching them film Alfred and Kenneth in a crowd scene. I had just finished "playing" with a portable camera,  a very heavy looking piece of equipment with what looked liked one half of a giant Q-tip attached front and back of the camera. I glanced at the chap who was operating it and said, "Rather you than me, mate." He laughed and told me that despite being a bit on the heavy side, it was very non-taxing to operate. He offered to let me "have a go" and I did. He was right. It was so incredibly well balanced you did not notice the weight at all. It was after this that  I had a scene with my "wife"  strolling and looking in store front windows. We finished our bit, she disappeared and  I stood to watch the rest of the film being made while waiting for my next bit.

I glanced out of the corner of my eye a bearded longer haired man standing next to me. I was pushed a bit closer to him and I suddenly realised that this bearded spectacle was none other than Brian Blessed. He of the magnificent voice and bigger than life personality. I instantly became a quivering school aged fan-boy. I looked into his face and started to say all the idiotic fan boy things that sprang immediately into my mind. He turned and looked right into my eyes with a fierce gaze that withered my unspoken words before they had even managed to leave my throat. I wrenched my head forward and didn't even acknowledge his presence, for fear that I would fall under that fierce look again. I have heard from other folks that Mr Blessed is quite a nice chap. I guess that fierce gaze is how he looks at everything.

Writing this has helped me remember some other great folks I've met, auditioned for, and briefly worked for. I'll have to write them down before I forget them again. So I guess I will be name dropping for a little while yet.

Actors

When I was a boy I had a list of actors about as long as my arm that I wanted to meet. There was also a shorter list of actors I actually would have done anything to work with. I have had a long love affair with Theatre, Film and to a slightly lesser degree television. Ever since I came to the momentous conclusion that I wanted to be an actor, I have been in awe and enamoured of any actor whose performances move me.

Top of the list of "meet-a-bles" was The Duke. John Wayne was, to me anyway, the master of reacting. He also had a knack (one that was enhanced by his "script doctor") of speaking in very natural tones, but with that Duke cadence that will be forever remembered. Dean Martin ran a close second. Again, mainly because of the almost lackadaisical way he had of delivering his dialogue. I am talking about his better films here. His method of delivery was so natural, it was as though he had not memorised dialogue, but made it up as he went along.

Richard Burton, with that beautiful voice, enthralled me literally from the first second I heard him speak. I wanted more than anything to see him in Camelot. When I think of actors his name is always first on the list, closely followed by Lawrence Olivier, Richard Harris, Sean Connery and Michael Caine. All actors I so intensely admired and would have given anything to have worked with.

There was only one actress that fell into both categories and that was Elizabeth Taylor. I was reminded of that when I read 'em's talkery' today - http://emtalkery.blogspot.co.uk . My high school drama teacher had worked with Ms Taylor and always swore that they were the same age until suddenly Ms Taylor started getting younger each year. I don't know about that, but I do know that Pat Collier still thought very highly of Ms Taylor and would sing her praises monthly.

I actually saw Sean Connery in a Holiday Inn restaurant/bar in Alamogordo New Mexico in 1981. He walked within a foot of my and a friends table. Even out of make-up and sans toupee he commanded the room. I was so shocked by his appearance in this out of the way place,  that I was practically speechless. I found out later that he was making a film with Katherine Ross and Robert Conrad at the White Sands National Park.

Of course most of the actors I wanted to meet are all gone. They are treading the boards on some other plain of existence or they have "semi" retired. Of course I never really got into the business enough to insure I met anyone. I have met and auditioned for Jonathan Demme. The year was 1976 and the film was Fighting Mad with Peter Fonda. I got the part, after a very patient Jonathan kept making me re-read it. He kept reminding me that I wasn't on a stage so I had to tone down my performance. I left thinking I had blown it. It was a good part too. I was going to be saved by Peter Fonda's character at the beginning of the film. I got the phone call two weeks later and went in to sign the contract with my dad. Alas, I never got to work on that film. Due to money problems, the company (Palo Alto Productions) started cutting costs where they could and got a young stuntman to do my scene - presumably cheaper than if I had done it. I found this out from a friend of mine who was a Gopher on the film.

I have since worked on small things here and there. Life, love and the support of first one family and then another sort of side tracked me from my "artistic pursuit." I am slowly and hesitantly backing into my first love. Writing. Before I had decided in my youth to tread the boards, being a writer was my big dream. Maybe one day, if I actually get my ageing butt in gear and start looking for it, I will get work acting again. But until that time, I'll write my blogs and try to stretch my writing muscles for some real writing.

We Need to Talk About Kevin should be called We Need to Talk ...Period

I really enjoyed this film. I had waited eagerly for it to come out in the cinema after watching the teasers and trailers. From the glimpses given us, we the potential audience saw what looked like the making of a mass murderer. The small snippets also gave the impression that Kevin was born damaged. In other words, born bad or evil.

First of all I have to take my hat off to the three principal actors here.   Tilda Swinton, John C. Reilly and Ezra Miller all gave a real tour de force in the way of performances. At no time did I not believe fully and totally in their characters. I of course have long loved the acting talents of Ms Swinton. I first became aware of her massive talent when I saw her in Constantine with Keanu Reeves. So honestly I really expect no less than the best from her performance. John C Reilly gave a thoroughly great turn as the father who doesn't really know what is going on. The real jewel in the crown though, is Ezra Miller as Kevin. This young actor sold it. He has been acting since 2008 and it shows in his masterful performance as the troubled and troubling teen.


Director Lynne Ramsay along with Rory Kinnear did a brilliant job of adapting the book for the screen. In the book everything is told via the mother in letters. By using flash-backs, flash-forwards and present time inter-play they solved the problem of telling a story in a monotonous fashion. And the story is a good 'un.


Essentially about Kevin, the story shows us his birth, child-hood and all the events that appear to show that he will ultimately turn out bad. He does indeed fulfil our expectations, but rather than believing that Kevin was really bad from the womb, we find that he had a lot of help from mum and dad.


Tilda Swinton as Kevin's mother is a mixture of post natal depression, passive aggressive anxiety and sullen silence. She fails to bond with Kevin when he is born and never really manages to connect with him in a maternal way. It is almost as though she were the same mental age as Kevin. She at no time takes on the role of "grown-up." John C. Reilly as Kevin's dad comes across as one of those "matter-of-fact" dads. He always seems to be on the side of reason and understanding, but only on the most superficial level.


This dysfunctional family then decide to have another child (although decide is probably a bit of a misnomer, it appears to be the result of a drunken love-fest) And of course the entry of another child causes more problems.


Ultimately when the film's events began to all come together to show what happened on the fateful day, I felt that they didn't need to talk about Kevin at all. They just needed to talk. No one and I mean no one ever sat down and really spent time talking about anything. Problems were discussed very lightly if at all. The other apparent thing about the film was that Kevin took after mom. Dad placidity was not evident in Kevin's personality. No, Kevin seemed to have gotten all the "good stuff" from mom's gene-pool.


All in all this was a powerful film. Disturbing and thought provoking, this is not a film to be taken lightly. So if you are looking for a film that you can set back and eat popcorn and drink fizzy and enjoy, you might want to give it a miss. But if you like a film that makes you think and talk about it long after you've seen it? This one hits the mark.

Weather

I can get really frustrated at the weather in this country. I have lived in quite a few places in the world. I have also visited a lot more. I have experienced weather in them all. I can say, with very little reservation, that the weather is the most frustrating here.

It is a topic that everyone talks about. When bumping into friends and acquaintances the first or second subject that will crop up is the weather. We complain about, joke about, and worry about the weather. It seems to be so unpredictable that even the weathermen have difficulty in guessing it's next move.

You can start out the day with glorious sunshine. It is warm and the outside looks so inviting. The early appearance of the sun galvanizes you. Energy flows though every vein of your body. Quick! Get the washing machine going. Get out the lawn mower and clippers. Get out the bucket for washing the windows and the car. While scurrying about getting everything ready for your sun filled day, you also plan on what to do in the way of leisure. A walk or perhaps a visit to the seaside. And in the afternoon maybe we'll drag the barbecue out of the shed and do some burgers.

Don't bother.

I can guarantee you that before the washing machine has finished it's first cycle, the clouds will come. The temperature will drop. The wind will pick up, all the better to move more clouds in. The rain will start dripping and dropping in it's build up to the sporadic rain that will fill the rest of the day.  Your energy level plummets back to normal. Only now you have to rush around and put away all the things that you got out in preparation for your glorious sun-filled day.

You now put the kettle on for a cup of coffee, or tea if you are a native of this country, and have a grumble about the 'bloody weather' while you re-plan your days activities. Of course the first thing you will need to do after having your meditative "cuppa"  is get out the airer. Clothes don't get dry in the rain and the dryer is expensive to use. The rest of the day is spent with the feeling that you have been cheated. You feel as though everything else you are doing has a bitter feel to it. In essence you are bummed.

Of course throughout the day, the sun can make the occasional appearance. The wind will drop. And the rain? Well here is the frustrating part, the rain can (and quite often does) keep right on raining. Or not. But rest assured, that whatever the weather is doing for the rest of the day, you will not be able to plan your activities around it.

Now the day is finishing. The light is fading and night starts creeping in. But wait! What's this? The clouds are going away! The sky becomes clear and star filled. I generally start swearing when this happens.

Now I don't mind too much that I can't plan my day around the weather. I also realise that we will, hopefully, get some sunny days to enjoy. I do wish though, that if it has to  rain - and yes I do know that it is a necessity - that it could rain at night, not during the day. Still if wishes were horses beggars would ride. So I'll just have to keep my umbrella at the ready and make sure I have a good pair of wellies.

Take notice of the film Take Shelter

After my abysmal experience watching the 2011 version of The Thing, I was going to give films a rest for a while.  But like a cowboy who's been thrown off his horse, I decided to get right back in the saddle. I'm glad I did. Because if I had not, I would have missed the brilliance that is Take Shelter.

This brilliant "little" film was noticed by my daughter Meg. She had seen a trailer and it  piqued her interest. We decided to check it out. Am I glad we did.

Take Shelter is a film written and directed by relative newcomer Jeff Nicols. It stars Michael Shannon, Jessica Chastain and Shea Whigham. Michael Shannon, fresh from working on Boardwalk Empire, gives a more than impressive performance as Curtis. Curtis is a typical "every-man" who is suffering from violent and intense dreams - or are they visions? He is also beginning to hear things. Jessica Chastain  plays his loving wife, who despite her anger and frustration at her husbands strange behaviour, supports him as much as she can. Shea Whigham is Curtis's best friend who he has a falling out with. Tova Stewart gives an absolutely delightful performance as Curtis's hearing impaired daughter.

I have, after watching this film, become a Michael Shannon fan-boy. He has an "old fashioned" look about him. He makes me think of a cross between two late actors, Vic Morrow and Chuck Conners. *Shannon is actually six feet three inches tall* He is well know for playing "twitchy" characters. I do know that he made me really care about his character. In fact all the main actors gave me the feeling that they were folks I have known or worked with.

The visions (?) that Curtis sees deal  a lot with some kind of super storm. He decides that he must improve their tornado shelter. Despite losing his job and not being able to afford it he continues with his improvement plan. He is also beginning to suspect that his visions are really some sort of mental illness. I cannot go any further into the plot of the film for fear of giving too much away.

This film looked beautiful. The cinematography is stunning and crisp. The writing is perfect, it allows the actors to fully flesh out their characters and gives the viewers a tense emotional ride. We spend almost the entire film worrying about whether Curtis is nuts or if he really knows something that no one else does.

I always judge how good a film is by how I feel when it reaches the end frame. If I immediately want to watch it again, I know it is a brilliant film. When Take Shelter finished, I did want to see it all over again.

Take Shelter is a little hard to fit into a genre, but, it definitely should be seen. It is a real shame that something this good did not even receive a nod at the Oscars. 

The Thing - A Prequel? Only at the End.

After putting it off far too long, I finally watched the "prequel re-make" of John Carpenter's The Thing. At the end of the film I found myself asking only one question.

Why?

Now I will be the first to admit that Carpenter's The Thing is itself a re-make. Christian Nyby and Howard Hawks first brought the film to the big screen in 1951. It featured James Arness (who does indeed look like a giant carrot as suggested by author Stephen King) heavily made up and very unfriendly. The creature is dispatched at the end of the film via an electric sidewalk.

John Carpenter re-imagined the film in 1982 and it became a classic. Brooding, suspenseful and menacing, it set the standard for economically telling a story and creating characters you could form a bond with. It was suitably scary with moments of genuine humour. In fact I would go as far as to suggest that Carpenter's The Thing should be used as a template on how to make a good film. *I would also add  James Cameron's Terminator 2 to that very short list*

Now we have the "prequel" The Thing 2011.  I will say that the special effects were beyond spectacular. Sadly, that is the  only good thing I can bring myself to say about the film. Despite the fact that the director and the producers set the pacing of the film at breakneck speed, I did not care about any of it.


The characters were not even two dimensional creations. They all appeared to be one dimensional filler. No one, apart from Mary Elizabeth Winstead's character, had a clear cut "job" in the film.  Winstead was supposed to be the "heroine," yet her character was so lacklustre and flat that I found myself not really caring whether she lived, died, or defeated the alien. Every other character in the film seemed to be used to fill one or two functions. I can envision the director saying, "Right we need a large cast that an alien needs to chew through. We also need enough people that we can group one bunch as victims and one bunch as aliens. Since that really is all they are going to be doing, we won't bother with giving them specific things to do in the film."

Yes the film did zoom along. Like a runaway train it sped to the conclusion, to it's detriment.  The script had so many holes, gaps and glaring omissions that I am actually amazed that it managed to run for an entire 103 minutes. But, having said that, the film felt much longer.

I will say that the last bit of the film - the "teaser-like" flashes we the audience got intermixed with the end credits - did indeed fill the bill as a prequel. Sadly, it was really the only part of the film that I got anywhere near excited about.

So my final verdict about the film? Great FX! Mediocre characters and performances with the only real prequel being at the end of the film. I am so glad I did not see this at the cinema.

I would have asked for my money back.

Exit

I did not know him that well. I am not even sure how long I have known him. What I do know is he was one of those people that we meet and interact with all too infrequently in life. He was one of the rare breed.

He was a nice chap.

During the time I have worked with him I have never heard him say one ill word against another person. He was one of those folks who always seemed so pleased to see you. And to the best of my knowledge he greeted everyone the exact same way, a big smile and he was happy to see you. I know that I was always happy to see him and work with him.

Again, I did not know that much about him. But I did know that he liked films and he loved racing motorbikes. He had recently injured himself in a race and we all made good natured fun at his expense. He always saw the humour in this. This was not out of character for him at all. He was one of the few people I have ever met that literally no one had a bad thing to say about.

I learned today that he has made an early exit from our realm. In the blink of an eye one of the nicest people I have ever had the privilege to know or work with has gone. It smacks of travesty this early exit. As a friend said earlier today, "I can think of so many other people who I'd rather see go than him." 

Indeed.

I am fifty-three years old and I still cannot get used to how quickly and viciously death can snatch life away. Another friend said that this all feels so unreal. I know what he means. Like everyone who is touched by this sort of thing, I keep thinking someone will say, "Sorry! We were only kidding around. It's not true." Sadly, oh so sadly, it is true. 

All that keeps going through my head is that stupid phrase: "Elvis has left the building." In this case though it is not Elvis but one hell of a nice guy named Pete.

So long Pete, it was nice knowing you and it is a damned shame you had to leave so soon. I hope that where ever you are they have films and motorbikes and all the other things that made you...you.

You will be missed.