What can I say? Giddy with acheivement I can't stop the flow of love and appreciation. So more tributes!
Let's start with...myself. Click here to read a superb and insightful review of my documentary "Tis Autumn: The Search For Jackie Paris",which opened a few weeks ago in Canada and will make it's appearence on DVD late this year. This writer, Rick Groen, is now the official author of my favorite review of my own work. By the way, bad reviews are as easily dismissed by me as good ones are embraced. Call me a spineless whore. I laugh at your words.
Zachary Matz, my co-producer, old friend and occasional jazz co-hort (he plays guitar and bass) deserves another major thank you for having had the worst job on the movie and pulled it off. He was locked in an office for most of production juggling the accounts--er, rather, making financial sense out of things.
Kudo's to Dan Fisher, a great property master (an extremely important and often underrated job) who is also the author of a number of fictitious book titles that gave me great pleasure (see previous posts). My favorite: "Beam Me Up; Dramatic Monologues From Star Trek". He also digs the same old tunes that I do and even knows the lyrics...
A toast to Tere Duncan, who wardrobed up our actors in excellent fashion, made great choices along the way and kept showing me pictures of various clothing options up until the penultimate day of shooting.
Big time thanks to Phil Caruso, an extraordinarly talented photographer and a presence that you truly want gracing your set.
And Ged. And Andrew. And Glen. And Brendan. And Shannon. And John Greenway. And Rachel Connors. And Johnny and Sorangel and Marina and Kelly and, and...
And to everyone else and everyone I haven't mentioned, know that I love and appreciate your participation and will not forget your hard work. Here, in a fit of Italian-American over-emotion, is a clip that perfectly expresses how I feel; Dean Martin and Jerry Lewis performing "That's Amore" from 1953's "The Caddy". I'll calm down in another day or two. Meanwhile...
"City Island" wrapped at dawn, Thursday morning and immediately gave itself a wrap party that very evening. I hired two excellent jazz musicians--bass and sax--to accompany me (I play piano) and gave the movie's crew the gift of jazz as background entertainment. Then Andy Garcia brought in a Cuban band to kick things up a notch. The evening ended with me and several members of the crew going to the absolutely stupidest bar I've ever been to--a place called the "Beauty Bar" somewhere downtown, where guys sit around with the heads in old hair-dryers. Jesus.
A few tributes. First to my excellent producing partner Lauren Versel, without whom we would not have actually become a movie. Lauren and I go back aways in life and could never have anticipated our relationship evolving into what it's become--partners in a joint movie venture that significantly has altered both of our lives already. From the beginning of her involvement, she has been nothing but supportive, clear and positive that we would get this done. Now she's exhausted. We all are. That's the game.
I would also like to "out" the co-author of this blog over the past six weeks, the person you know as Cecilia Bee. Cecilia is, in fact, my personal asssistant, Amy Basil. Amy is so frigging great at pretty much whatever she puts her mind too that it genuinely shocking to me that she's leaving town (and my employ) next week...so dependent on her talent and gifts have I grown. She's also young and English--that accent plus her attitude will take her wherever she wants to go.
My old friend and sound mixer Jan McLaughlin also was a fabulous partner in crime. I can't describe what makes Jan quite so magnetic and fascinating--she's both very much more present than most people and also on an entirely different plane of existence than most of us. Jan did my first movie, "Cafe Society" a dozen years ago and this was our reunion movie. She's got nothing but a brilliant attitude toward the whole mess and made me smile every morning--not an easy task as a shoot progresses. By the way, she's also a mad genius and a Goddam good Audio capturer.
Best Assistant director: Eric Henriquez. Simple. This is a job that few people understand or appreciate--unless you're a director you can't quite grasp how necessary it is to have an excellent first A.D. and how quickly lost you are without one. Eric trained with some great people and is a top-of-the-craft guy. I've never had a set as well run and I told Eric at one point that I consider his the hardest job on a movie: because, like a hotel, it CAN NEVER STOP. I can rest, I can think, I can pace around. But the A.D. must literally be in motion and anticipating everything coming up all the time. Nuts. Eric's first class, no ifs or ands.
I had the the wonderful fortune of having as my Production Designer Frankcie Diago, as talented and honest and forthright an artist as you could ask for. Franckie is a veteran of several other Andy Garcia projects--she worked for many years in the great Dean Tavoularis's art department which means "Godfather 3" was their first connect--and I met her at Andy's suggestion. She was the only PD I met who came to the meeting without a pile of materials to look at...which I found wildly refreshing. Instead she spoke to me about the story...so I hired her on the spot. This is very Franckie--she's "outside" the norm in every possible way and not fearful of anything. She also has truly lived a life--more than just working on movies she's traveled, built houses, lived in India. etc. You get the picture? Franckie is a life embracer. She also has highly sophisticated reference points--she doesn't think in terms of movies but of all art, all life, all experience...
Lastly, I had the great good fortune to work with a "rising star" cinematographer, Vanja Cernjul. I've yet to see a scene that he hasn't bathed in lovely, soft light--he has a way of being both realistic and just a little mystical in the way he sees the frame. I interviewed a lot of DP's for this movie and Vanja was my first choice--and just a week or two after we hired him he was nominated for an Emmy for his work on 30 Rock. Vanja is Croatian--which means he too has a charming accent that comes in handy in stressful situations. Beyond that he has the patience and artistry that a really fine DP must have to keep focused when things threaten to implode. His steady and never wavering attitude saved me on a number of occasions when I was ready to settle for less in the interest of getting things done.
The final tribute goes to you, who is reading this. When I started this blog a year ago I did so in a spirit of what-the-hellness, figuring that I'd soon run out of things to write about and that nobody would read it anyway. Somehow I've built an audience--not an easy thing in the blogosphere--and I'm genuinely thankful and moved that you followed the journey of the movie and that so many of you are writing in expressing your thoughts. Blogging is truly like broadcasting--you send it out into the universe and suddenly a response is forthcoming. Crazy! Once I was on a radio show and the host asked for callers questions. One second later--ONE SECOND--I watched as all the phone lines suddenly lit up. It was weirdly thrilling--because it was live. I get the same pleasure from seeing the comments section every day. So stick with me. I'll keep this blog as interesting as I can make it. And when I make another film you can take that journey with me as well--unless once was enough.
Since there can be no blogging without a youtube clip, see the below piece of Benny Goodman and his orchestra playing a truncated bit of "Sing Sing Sing" from the 1938 Warners movie "Hollywood Hotel". Why Benny Goodman? Because I was listening to him at dawn this morning when I couldn't sleep. Goodman was a wonderful musician and apparently not a very wonderful fellow. In fact he was so detested that the following joke used to be told. "I got good news and bad news. The good news is Benny Goodman died. The bad news is he died in his sleep."
Our last night has been spent at the fitting and classic Empire Diner, right in the heart of Chelsea. Fitting, I think, because the movie takes a route from the fringes of Bronx and un-germinated dreams to the hub-bub of New York and the promise of a bright future. We too began in the Bronx, nicely rooted, and now are here, in the bustling, bright city. The two paths have finally converged; art really does imitate life.
This is a post I had been meaning to do for a very long time and then there came a point when it could only be done on the final night; only now it seems apt. Our producer Zachary Matz has been the darkest of horses when it comes to set presence. Yet, he has been the definition of "trooper", assuming the above position for 14 hours a day, his phone headset never far from his earlobes. This is a post in acknowledgment of Zachary Matz and it comes from my endless reserve of gushiness. So readers, suffer no more my ramblings, but be assured he is awesome, the movie would not have been made without him and it would not have been the same experience without his impromptu lessons in production throughout the long days in the musty City Island office. I don't really need to say much more, (I think my sentiment is clear) because I know I will get wasted tomorrow at the wrap party and tell him myself...
The minutes, along with the film feet, are slowly slipping away and burning up. In 3 hours all this starts to become a memory and no longer a reality...
Let me know when the little flip camera movies with musical accompaniment get dull... Here is a rather sneaky and shaky waltz through our West Bank cafe set up.
The happiness is palpable. Not because the film is nearly in the can, but because everyone seems acutely aware at how little time there is left to be friends. This sense is something akin to the end of a school year when the petty feuds are laid to one side and the smiles begin to creep up at the corners of your mouth... Sentimental? Me? Never! I guess all this is heightened by the fact we are shooting a particularly 'feel-good' scene (when the punters of the West Bank Cafe all applause Vincent's successful audition) It all lends to the mood of good-will and the sudden rush to exchange numbers with those you may want to see again someday.
Sides from today: A scene with Emily Mortimer and Andy Garcia.
De Felitta, with Andy Garcia, Assistant Director (Far left) Eric Henriquez and Associate Producer Joe Drago (Far right).
And the camera team.
Another lovely contribution to the blog. Photographs from the days filming the Malakov Acting Studio scenes with Alan Arkin. They really captured the mood and pace of this particular locale.
For some reason that I was never clear about, a three day weekend was built into our last week of shooting. So now it's Monday, with two more shooting days to go, and I'm sitting around feeling pleasantly, utterly lost--not yet finished with the shoot, nor on the clock I've been on for the past ten weeks. Nonetheless, the two last nights coming up will put an end to that. And will also put an end to the most enjoyable filmmaking experience I've yet had.
I'm not sure who on the crew checks this blog, but if any of you are out there please accept my heartfelt thanks and gratitude for your super-professionalism and all around great attitudes. And spread that thanks to your compatriots who may not be reading this. The crew, as always, carried the movie. And the actors felt well supported and able to focus on their work.
We'll post more clips this week as we come to the end of our shooting period. And then I'm not sure what this blog will turn into. I'll be editing for the next couple of months. Perhaps I'll go back to posting music and old movie stuff as I previously did. Or it'll evolve into a history of what happens to this particular independent film. Our expectations for the movie are high, but I've been doing this awhile and know how hard the road is. Still it'll be a journey and perhaps an interesting one to share. If anyone has any ideas for the blog and where you'd like to see it go, drop me a comment.
I had a number of director heroes in my youth that made me interested in pursuing this maddening craft. Cheif among them was the great Billy Wilder. It sounds easy to say now--he is universally regarded as one of the all time greats--but in the 70's when I was growing up and watching movies on television he was in eclipse. His new films were failures--"The Front Page", "Fedora", "Buddy Buddy". And his critical reputation seemed not to be high with the Andrew Sarris/Pauline Kael's who then dominated the film crit world. But I was fascinated by his movies early on--especially his Paramount noirs, 'Lost Weekend", "Double Indemnity", "Sunset Blvd." and "Ace In the Hole" and watched them whenever they came on (usually the KTLA Channel 5 movie theater). The fact that he co-wrote all of his own films was not lost on me--he seemed to exert a control over tone and an authority over the material that even other great directors could not consistantly match. It became apparent to me that his role--as both writer and director--was the be all/end all in terms of authority over material. To create a film in your head is to direct it before you're ever on the set. I saw Wilder and Sturges and the few other writer/directors that old Hollywood produced as occupying a loftier, royally untouchable position. The writer/director remains, to me, the ultimate filmmaker. It was Wilder's example that convinced me to become a writer first and not pursue filmmaking through other channels. I'm hardly alone in this--he truly, in a sense, showed the way toward modern, auteurist filmmaking (even though the old Hollywood craftsman in him would probably have rejected this claim).
When a book called "Billy Wilder In Hollywood" was published in the late seventies, I bought it and ate it up, reading it constantly and committing large segments of it to memory. Wilder was alive--indeed he lived well into his nineties, dying only a few years ago--but though I did meet him once, I never had the interaction with him that I hoped to. (Cameron Crowe did, instead). The occassion of our meeting was after a screening of "Some Like It Hot" at a theater in Beverly Hills. He showed up to do a q&a and afterward was swarmed by admirers. I jumped in early, grabbed his hand and said something along the lines of: "You'll never know how much your work has meant to me". Wilder, in his charming and brusque German-accented manner, replied: "Put that on a tape recorder for me. I will play it over and over." Then he turned sharply away from me, effectively ending our encounter.
And now, in closing, I'll offer some Billy Wilder quotes as my way of thanking him for having played such a large role in getting me involved with this mess of a profession.
On having relationships with actresses: "I never get involved with my actress. If I have a yen, I fuck the stand-in."
On subtlety in films: "In movies everything must be made obvious." (The person he's talking to:) "But Billy: what about subtleties?" "Make the subtleties obvious also."
On France: "France is a country where the money falls apart in your hands but you can't tear the toilet paper."
A cable he wrote to his wife, after she asked him to purchase a bidet while he was abroad: "Cannot obtain bidet. Suggest you do handstands in shower."
On Marilyn Monroe's chronic tardiness: "My Aunt Minnie would always be punctual and never hold up production, but who would pay to see my Aunt Minnie?"
And finally the immortal: "A director must be a policeman, a midwife, a psychoanalyst, a sycophant and a bastard."
Below is from Michel Ciment's interview w/Wilder, shot at his beach house in Malibu, California. You get to see him fly a kite at one point...and you get a look at his longtime writing partner, I.A.L. Diamond.
Firstly, a well-earned, thank you and applause goes out to our Joyce, Julianna Margulies. Today we wrapped (finished shooting) the woman who more than fulfilled the character's potential (and De Felitta's vision) with a dynamic of attitude, strength and likeability. So... To Julianna. Sante!
The first part of our day/afternoon (call was at 2pm) was spent at our law office location on 57th and Lexington Avenue. Yet again we are faced with the fictional riding up against the real. As myself and producer Lauren Versel approached the plaza that dramatically leads to the revolving doors, a new but eager PA (Production Assistant) informs us that we cannot walk through. It was a classic moment. Versel did her best 'No, no, no, you don't understand, we are with the movie...' And all that remains is a blushing PA... Cut to later that night, Roosevelt Island, West Side. Director Raymond, Erin (Versel's assistant), Producer Zachary Matz and myself in a crew van driving to set. Man in neon vest, armed with a red light stick, stands in the middle of the road, in front of the van and our nonplussed driver, starts yelling: "WHERE YOU GOIN'?!?! WHAT YOU DOIN'?!?!" (accompanied by crazy arm movements and the waving of his red stick) "WHERE YOU GOIN'?!! WHAT YOU DOIN'?!!!?" The driver, who has quite clearly seen it all before, calmly undoes his seatbelt, slowly sticks his head out the window, and says in a normal tone: "We're with the film." The yelling man seems to react in no way but just says, as though none of the yelling had occurred: "all right, go ahead." The change in tone took us all by surprise and had us all struck by disbelief. At least we know our set is well protected... And the moral of these tall and arbitrary tales? "I'm with the movie" may just get you everywhere...
From this evening's shoot on Roosevelt Island. Raymond De Felitta calmly follows the scene that unfolds on the boardwalk below. The bright lights buzz in the background as the final yell of 'cut!' looms on the horizon. Monday we are idle, then Tuesday, Wednesday and 'That's a wrap!'...
A short cut sequence from tonight down at the Roosevelt Island tram. Truly spectacular and romantic. Yet a little on the bizarre side of things, the island is one of those Truman show-esque where it all feels a little to considered and held together. Neat condos flanked by neat streets and a tram as a mode of transportation. A little toy town methinks... P.S You can see Andy walking up the ramp in the blue shirt, rehearsing a scene with Raymond and Emily Mortimer.
From our day in TriBeCa. Filming the crash scene in the ford Galaxy was a logistical feat of biblical proportions, De Felitta directed Garcia via Walkie. Copy That! Phrase of the shoot for sure!
Dan Fisher, our property master, has created these rather tongue-in-cheek book covers for our acting class extras to hold as props. Likely that they will never be seen on screen, so I have posted them as a courtesy to Dan and to give the books their 15 minutes. Because everyone, even inanimate objects, deserves their 15.
Today we are shooting at a theater off Park Avenue in Midtown. This is a little walk through our holding areas and lock down of the street, accompanied by some Wagner, just for fun!
Tuesday, Day 23: Phil Caruso does his best Raymond impression, and at the same time keeps us all entertained. HI-LAR-IOUS. I think he has the head rub down to a T.
When working on a low budget, independent feature such as we are, sometimes corners have to be cut... Or when an actor is squashed in to a Honda Element then the slate must be done DIY style, that or have a camera assistant sit on your lap...
The lovely gentleman above won his role as part of a charity auction in which a walk-on role was donated as one of the prizes. Another of the many stories behind the story of "City Island".
It was a great day back in Manhattan again. Zachary Matz, one of our producers (who I will profile before we are done I promise!), opened a tab at the TriBeCa Tavern, for some after work cast and crew drinks. Code word was of course "Botero". (This is in reference to a story line in the film in which Andy Garcia's son, Vinnie Jr, has a infatuation with overweight women. To enter into the gluttonous depths of the Big Beautiful Woman community, one must know and use the secret word: "Botero") The drink was lovely. Well, half of the drink was lovely. The other half ended up on the floor courtesy of Mr Matz's left foot...
Day 23, and a little more waiting around is going on than usual. This time the waiting will both on camera and off as we film an open call audition sequence in TriBeCa (I want to know who comes up with these funny names... Triangle Below Canal? Seriously?) With 140 extras on our hands it is set to be a day of logistical somersaults, and the fact they all have been pulled from the extras casting pool entitled: "Stereotypical New York City Cop" makes for a day that is somewhat surreal... Everyone around me looks vaguely similar and I cannot tell if the guys hanging on the street corner really are just loitering or whether they have ambitions that parallel Vince Rizzo's, and are actually actors in this little film of ours... Reality and fiction seem to have truly collided, but I guess that's what sign up for when you say "yes" to life in the movies!
