STORIES... AND WHO REALLY OWNS 'EM

About 2 months ago, before I graduated from college, I showed a friend of mine the first 13 episodes of the TV show Glee. We watched 4 episodes per sitting over the span of 3 nights. This made me incredibly happy because only a few weeks earlier, my friend refused to give Glee much of a chance. He held it in contempt for airing at 9 P.M on Tuesday nights -- the same time slot as his beloved Lost.

Imagine my excitement when he said that he really liked Glee and that he wanted to keep watching more episodes. He even formed theories about what he thought would happen next and talked about how much he adored certain characters and hated others. Naturally, I was thrilled.

When all the episodes were over and we had discussed the show in detail for the better part of an hour, I went back to my apartment. I told my roommate about the Glee sessions and about how excited I was that my friend liked the show. After I rambled on for a few minutes, she just looked at me and said, "Why do you care so much? You didn't create the show..."

My roommate spoke the truth. Nonetheless, I was a little shocked at how much her statement really stung me. I went to bed thinking about it. Why do I care sooo much about whether or not someone likes Glee? She's right. It's not my show. I didn't create it.

As I sat there, thinking, two memories came into my mind.

When I attended his seminar a year ago, screenwriting teacher Robert McKee presented the following idea: We as people identify so much with the characters of the stories we take in that it's as if we are those characters. We love movies, plays, TV, novels, etc. because we see ourselves in them. Therefore, if you insult someone's favorite movie, it's like you're in insulting him/her. That's why we get so enraged when people don't agree with our taste in film or theater or literature. In a weird way, it feels like being rejected.

Then, last year I was talking with a nitrate film specialist at the Library of Congress -- a real movie buff who told me that the greatest thing in the world to him is seeing a movie that makes him cry and sharing it with someone else. Immediately after he said this, I felt myself nodding my head.

All of this was flittering around my brain as I thought about my concern for Glee.

Okay. So, I didn't create Glee. I don't write for Glee. Shoot I've never even met the writers. I don't know them from a whole in the ground -- how they live or where they're coming from... but for some strange reason, I can relate to their show and it gives me a euphoric feeling when I watch it.

And when you love and identify with something - just face it - it's a part of you. And in my opinion, there's nothing more beautiful than sharing a little part of yourself with someone else.

Who really owns a story anyway? Is it the person who formally recorded that story? Or is it the people who listen to the story, who embrace it, then pass it on to others for hundreds of years? I think certainly Homer and maybe even Shakespeare would agree with me when I say that those who hear a story and then share it with someone else are crucial to the tale-telling process.

THE BOTTOM LINE IS... I love Glee. It's not the first TV show or story that I've loved and it definitely won't be the last, but what remains a constant is this - I love to share stories with people. Whether I wrote the them or not, nothing provides me more joy.

Ciao for now, my friends.

HALVES

I haven't had time to really sit down and blog about something for a while. When I get a free minute, I plan to express my feelings about the Disney Renaissance and Glee... But for now, I thought I'd post something really quick - just so no one forgets about this little ol' blog.

Here's some food for thought. Take a look at this yin-yang.

Now. Think about this:

When God first created "man," he created him in his image. God was androgynous... and Adam was like him -- perfect. When God felt bad for Adam and didn't want him to be lonely, he sought to create from him a companion. So, God pulled out Adam's rib and created Eve. It was when God pulled Eve out of Adam that we forgot what God looked like and fell from perfection into duality. Some folks say that we're joined like that (our androgynous form) in heaven -- then pulled apart, made man and woman when we're born. We spend our whole lives seeking to be reunited with our other half.

Just something to ponder. I'm not really sure where I stand in regard to the above paragraph, but I think it's an interesting (and very moving) notion - like the song "Origin of Love" from Hedwig and the Angry Inch. It's something that's been on my mind ever since I took a class on the Cosmogonic Cycle last term... Isn't it weird that all the religions and stories in existence, if dissected, are all essentially the same single story?

And... Like Adam's rib (and the yin-yang), we carry pieces of each other within ourselves. I think about that sometimes and it literally blows my mind.

Ciao for now.

A CHICKEN BURRITO FOR THE SOUL

I heard recently that Mexican food is America's fast food of choice. This statistic, fact or not, doesn't surprise me. There's no denying that Americanized Mexican food is quite delicious. Perhaps my favorite fast mex establishment is the McDonald's-owned Chipotle. Ever since my college chums and I set foot into that place my Freshmen year, I've been absolutely hooked.

A lot has changed since I first started dining there though... not with the restaurant, but with me. For starters, I don't flock there quite as frequently. Two years ago, I'd estimate I partook of their food at least once a week. Now, I'm lucky if I go once a month... and I don't order a big burrito complete with a 290-calorie flour tortilla like I used to. No. Instead, I choose something slightly lighter (though not by much).

When I eat at Chipotle these days, I get burrito bowl with pinto beans, chicken, tomato salsa, cheese, sour cream and rice. It's about a 650 calorie meal. All and all, around 13 weight watchers points. I make it my business to know all about calories and weight watchers points because, unlike my younger, more carefree self, I'm now on a diet. I don't drink Coca-Cola anymore either -- diet or otherwise. I've given up soft drinks for the most part in favor of that precious natural resource called water.

And the truth is... I feel better.

I'm not on some crazy weight loss fad. I don't try to eat only raw foods or anything intense like that. I just try to casually watch it. It's worked for the most part and even though I haven't taken off that many pounds since the initial few when I first started, I still feel good. My mood is lighter and I don't get as easily stressed. Yes. Starting to be aware of what I'm eating has been the best thing I've ever done for myself.

But sometimes I miss the good old days.

I miss the times my friends and I had just eating and shooting the shit. We would sit around the place for a really long time - mainly because it took so long to finish a burrito... It was bliss.

And lately I've been pretty nostalgic for those times. I don't know if I miss the tortillas and Coca-Cola or if I just miss the company. Growing up is difficult because as you move along down the road of life, you begin to see less and less of your friends.

I just want my pals to know that in the future, when we're graduated and separated, I'll think about them every time I devour a burrito bowl.

And I'll think about all the wonderful, scary, funny, sad, transcendent moments we had.

So, how do we know what's really good for us? Hmmm?

Sometimes the food you eat might not be too healthy for you, but the company you eat it in can do wonders for your emotional well-being. So, I'm going to challenge myself as well as you (whoever you are) to think about what's truly good for you.

Ciao for now while we figure it out.

LOCO FOR LOCOMOTIVES

On Friday, March 12 of this year, I was one smart cookie. It was my first day of Spring Break and I decided to take the opportunity to head back home to Alabama for a few days. Since my Freshmen year of college, I have always opted to get home via airplane and a flight from Greensboro to Birmingham typically requires a connection in... Ugh. Atlanta.

Because Atlanta is the world's busiest airport, it's no secret that there are usually delays there, and when you want nothing more than to get home to your bed, your family and your dog, it can resemble uncannily, with its winding trams and endless concourses, the bowels of hell.

ANYWAY. Let's get back to when a few Fridays ago, I was quite the genius. Like any wise traveler, I woke-up a few hours before my flight to check the Delta website to make sure that everything was on time. Imagine my great surprise when I found that my flight had already been delayed three hours due to foul weather in ATLANTA! Boy, was I livid. However, I then noticed something nice. Did you know that when your travel plans get mucked-up by stuff you can't help like faulty engines or the weather, Delta allows you to switch flights for no extra charge? Aren't they great?

So, I looked for potential flight swaps. Wouldn't you know that they ALL conveniently stopped in Atlanta... but then, hark! My eyes fell upon something different - a means of getting to Birmingham with a short lay-over in Memphis, Tennessee. Needless to say that quicker than grass through a goose, I signed-up for that Memphis flight, which inevitably left Greensboro on time and got me home to the big ol' salty 'ham only 10 minutes after the time my original flight was supposed to arrive.

Yes. I felt quite intelligent in my ability to avert Atlanta -- so intelligent that I've felt the urge to re-tell the story to you today.

Okay. So, you're probably chastising me as a bragadocious wench right about now. Well, go ahead. But you should know that my reason for telling you this airplane story is not entirely for ego related reasons. I wanted to tell you this little anecdote in order to promote another mode of transportation --

a mode of transportation wherein, if you wanted to travel from Greensboro to Birmingham, there would be no connecting flight and no waiting around the terminal for hours. The mode of travel to which I am referring is, of course... the train.

I hope you will allow me to wax poetic for a few moments on the brilliance of the locomotive. YES, I know that it can sometimes take a little longer than the plane, it can cost a little more than driving your car, and quite frankly, the loud snoring and fart smells can be somewhat off-putting, but the train is the BEST way to travel -- that is, if you really want to get somewhere.

When you're sitting on a the train, you're moving - headed toward a destination. I'm sorry, but when did traveling mean sitting around an airport terminal or gas station? Hmmm? Trains are great for their sheer efficiency.

They also offer a nice amount of space for your feet and the ability to really recline... and when your ass hurts, you're not confined to your seat due to turbulence. You can get up and walk around or hang out in the lounge car.

Then, there's the food. It might not be gourmet cuisine and you might have to pay for it, but if you want to sit down and have a meal on the train, by-golly YOU CAN! Do they serve food on planes anymore? Uhhhh... negative.

Finally, the best part of traveling by train...

... the view! Instead of looking at clouds or the ocean or little green lumps of land, you can really see and enjoy woods and urban landscapes as they zoom past. The windows are big and there's no obligation to hold onto a steering wheel. I can't think of anything more relaxing than to watch the world speed by.

A friend of mine and I took Amtrak's Southern Crescent (which runs from New Orleans to New York City) from Greensboro to Penn Station and I can honestly say it helped me to clear my mind. Spec-tac-u-lar.

On the return trip, we dined with a fellow who explained that Amtrak is trying to expand and improve their service to be more like Europe or Japan. To that I say: YOU GO! I blog in support of more and better trains!

However, in all of this travel yak, I have come to a most definite conclusion. Unless you have a buddy to travel with, all of it is extremely dull. You've got to have somebody with you -- a companion to swap stories with. If I'd had a pal during all of my many Atlanta lay-overs, maybe I wouldn't despise flying so much.

Ciao for now.

THE POTENCY OF LITTLE THINGS, OR MY TWO CENTS ON THIS YEARS OSCARS... PT. 2

Reason #3

As Sandra Bullock got up to receive her Oscar, one of my friends bashed her winning film, THE BLIND SIDE, citing that it glorified the American Upper-Middle class. I turned to him and asked...

"Corey, have you seen THE BLIND SIDE?"

"No," he retorted, smug.

I told him that he was not aloud to insult it if he hadn't seen it.

Here's the ironic part: When I first saw the trailer for THE BLIND SIDE, I felt the exact same way. Something about it really disturbed the hell out of me. It seemed like the kind of film during which, bleach-blonde, conservative soccer moms would all sit around the theater and congratulate themselves; and when relatives and friends of mine gushed about wanting to see it, I thought they were... well... dumb.

But then something happened. On Thanksgiving Day, my sister wanted to see TWILIGHT: NEW MOON... and let's just say there was one movie that I actually wanted to see less than THE BLIND SIDE. So, when we went to the cineplex, my father and I opted for Sandra Bullock in a stupid wig and put-on Southern accent. We braved the hordes of Alabama and Auburn football fans waiting to see Nick Saban and Tommy Tubberville's cameos, shouting "Roll Tide!" and "War Eagle." Absolutely obnoxious.

However, when the movie began, I did something that is somewhat rare for me. I ate my words.

For here was a movie that in its trailer seemed to be about how a monied white family sees the good in a poor black kid, then decides to pull him out of certain destitution. What I saw on the screen that Thanksgiving evening, fortunately was quite different. I saw a movie about not one, but two struggling people - Leigh Anne Tuohy and Michael Oher - who learn to bring out the best in each other.

The film uses stereotypes to, in some surprisingly nuanced ways, break them. In its advertising, it makes you think its going to aggrandize the benevolence of the Southern White Upper class, but it does sooo much more than that.

I'm not sure that I can give justice to this particular quality in a short blog entry. I do, however, recognize the feeling that I get from watching two people who theoretically should not accept one-another, but somehow manage to. That's the feeling THE BLIND SIDE provides.

Once in a blue moon, there's a film that seems to transcend it's packaging... and just like you can't judge a book by its cover, you can't judge a movie by its trailer, OR for that matter, a person by her political party or occupation.

This is the beauty of Sandra Bullock - the way she gets you to see past the stereotype. I'm glad the Academy recognized this because it's something that I think should be a part of all films, something that we might do well to strive for not only in our creative efforts, but also in our everyday lives.

REASON #4

I'm pretty sure this picture says it all...

Nonetheless, I will make a little commentary....

Kathryn Bigelow broke the barrier for aspiring female filmmakers (or should I say aspiring female Oscar winners?) with her victory in the Best Director category on Sunday night. I watched the telecast with a bunch of dudes and I was a little ashamed to let them see my tears, but I looked to my left and to my right to see both other ladies in the room quite awash as well, so I didn't feel so lame.

I'm really happy that they finally recognized a girl director, but... I can't help feeling a little weird about it.

Let me explain myself. A few weeks ago, I read a book by Maureen Murdock entitled, THE HEROINE'S JOURNEY. I'm not a bra-burner or anything, I just was curious to see how I might write better female protagonists (which is something I attempt more often, than not). In the book, Murdock talks about how women often try to find fulfillment in guy territory. I hate to put it bluntly, but the movie directing business is definitely guy territory. As ladies, we work really hard to find success the man's way -- kicking ass and taking no prisoners. In the modern world, women are starting to dominate more in business and other arenas previously ruled by the fellas. A successful woman ignores urges to have a kid and start a family in order to be fiscally and hierarchically... a success. Many women, according to Murdock, start to feel really unfulfilled after the fireworks of climbing up the ladder have worn off. They feel this way, she claims, because they have ignored the "feminine" part of themselves - those urges to nurture and be the cheerleader.

Well, I can't say that I agree with everything that Murdock writes. Frankly, I think some of it is quite extreme, but her words did sit with me as I thought about the whole Kathryn Bigelow situation. While I think it's great that there's finally an Oscar-winning female director, I can't help feeling that she's being rewarded for being a guy... or finding success "the guy" way... making a movie about war and testosterone and dudes. Let's be honest. At this point in time, she wouldn't have won an award for directing a "chick flick." I think if the Academy REALLY wanted to make a big social stride (because as I mentioned before, these awards are NOT about quality... they are about politics), they would've given the award to Lee Daniels for directing PRECIOUS. A film directed by a black man (the likes of whom have never won a directing Oscar before either) about black people -- a black film! I would be willing to put money on the following assertion - that when an African American finally wins a directing Oscar, it will be for directing a movie that isn't about black people... We'll see, I guess.

For now, however, I will be content that at least, we as lady filmmakers can say, WE GOT ONE... regardless of what kind of film it was that she directed. Because as much as the social and political stuff sucks, it's constantly changing and getting better. Different doors are being opened everyday and progress is being made... Bigelow's Oscar is evidence of it -- and that's what counts.

ONE FINAL THOUGHT:

I'm proud to be going into an industry that honors a film like THE HURT LOCKER over a film like AVATAR. I could go on about this subject for days, but I won't. Instead, I will just say this. Yes, 3-D is the wave of the future. Sure. Okay. We get it. But let the first 3-D film to win the Academy Award for Best Picture merit it with its moving story and resonating themes, not its technical innovations.

And even though I never mentioned them in these Oscar entries, I loved INGLOURIOUS BASTERDS, UP IN THE AIR and AN EDUCATION. Perhaps, I'll muse about them later, but for now,

Ciao.

THE POTENCY OF LITTLE THINGS, OR MY TWO CENTS ON THIS YEARS OSCARS... PT. 1

I read an article last week in THE NEW YORK TIMES in which A.O. Scott said the Academy Awards are not about the quality of the motion pictures that they honor, but rather "about how the American film industry thinks about itself, its future, its desires and ideals." Last night, as I sat fixated on the telecast, checking off my predictions, Mr. Scott's supposition really resonated with me. In fact, it transformed how I viewed the entire ceremony this year...

I contemplated - how would the Academy, and thus the entire film industry, choose to define itself this year? Would they favor technical prowess and unparalleled cinematic spectacle over smaller, more thought-provoking fare?

Well... As a film student who has tended to create by the mantra that "small, good things" are more satisfying and emotionally worthwhile, I found at least several of the ceremony's conclusions and revelations to be not only adequate, but actually fulfilling!

If last night's Oscars are truly an indication of how the film industry wishes to view itself, here are some reasons (plucked directly from my viewing of the telecast) that I would like to be a part of it:

Reason # 1

In the blurb that came before the Short Film awards were presented, John Lasseter said this: "The tools to make a film are so readily accessible - cameras, your laptop. My advice to young filmmakers is the tools never make a great film. It's what you do with the tools. Telling a great story, entertaining the audience - that's what's going to win you an Academy Award." Everybody that I watched the telecast with, including myself, hollered a hearty AMEN when Mr. Lasseter said this... Yet in my film school experience, this exact notion is something that continually gets overlooked. Many people believe that they can make an engaging movie with nothing more than some pretty images and some intense music. Okay... Their movies are beautiful, but they're empty and sterile... and they mean absolutely nothing. I want to be a member of a film community that values storytelling and making sense of the world through characters.

Reason #2

Over the summer, as part of an internship, I got to attend a lot of screenings at the National Audio Visual Conservation Center in Culpeper, Virginia. Part of their summer showings was a series entitled, "The Cinema of John Hughes". Up until this point in my life, I had written Mr. Hughes off as corny and belonging to the 80s, where (let's face it) movies just weren't as good. But then something happened...

One day, during my internship, I got to inspect a print of SIXTEEN CANDLES. Up until then, if I had to pick a favorite Hughes movie, it would have been this one, but that's really not saying much. However, as the film rolled along on the flatbed, I became more and more beguiled... and as the silly banter and impeccable teen angst continued, I realized that the movie inspired me waaaaay more than I had ever thought possible.

It's not some corny 80s movie to be written off as crap. It's a fantastic film that clenches the heart... and embodies the simple and extremely relatable idea that we all just want to be loved... and if we just take a deep breath and be ourselves, we'll get everything we wish for.

Needless to say, I have since re-visited a lot of Hughes' movies and witnessed others for the first time. The result? I've fallen in love.

Somebody like Jerry Bruckheimer won't get a tribute like the one they gave to John Hughes on the Oscars last night. I'd be willing to put money on it. My reasoning is this - films like the kind Bruckheimer makes aren't small, nor are they good. They don't reach an audience on the same emotional level that Hughes' movies do. It's emotion, not spectacle that makes for classic cinema... and for wonderful tributes at the Academy Awards.

(To Be Continued...)

THE VANCOUVER OLYMPICS ONLY ENDED ON SUNDAY, THEREFORE IT'S NOT TOO LATE TO WRITE ABOUT THEM.

In fact, it might be one of the reasons why I had the urge to start this blog in the first place. I thought I'd express my position on NBC and their broadcast of the games because it seems to be such a fiery topic as of late. I'll start with a disclaimer -- if you're a hardcore sports fan, like the kind that watches ESPN on a regular basis, you might not enjoy this entry. I want to make the statement that not only are the Olympics themselves incredible, but so is the way in which NBC presents them.

Here is where I'm coming from in writing this entry. I am a movie person with a penchant for writing screenplays. From a very early age, I have relished connecting with people via hearing about their struggles. I love being able to follow those that I connect with to either success or failure, to victory or defeat. Why do I keep watching the Olympic games? For the same reason that you (whether consciously or not) keep watching the Olympic games. We watch because we whole-heartedly identify with the athletes. We relate to them as we relate to movie or TV characters, but here's the thing, they are real people... and theirs are real stories being played-out right before our eyes. Through our identification with these athletes, their struggles become our struggles. When they put on our country's uniform (whether we're from Denmark, Iran or Kazakhstan), we only identify with them more... We are them. They are us... and all the countries come together and we all cheer and fight and win! Maybe I've swallowed a bit too much VISA punch, but I don't think so.

Some people do not appreciate the way NBC broadcasts and promotes the Olympics. They hate the way the network controls their emotions and keeps them glued to the TV -- especially during primetime. I feel sorry for those people because they are sure missing out on some topnotch catharsis. I personally appreciate it when NBC tells me what the athletes are competing for.

As horrible and tragic as the circumstances may be, I'm receptive when they tell me that Canadian figure skater Joannie Rochette's mother passed away only 2 days before her short program. I WANT TO KNOW that skiier Bode Miller grew-up with no electricity or indoor plumbing in New Hampshire. During the Beijing summer games, the sentimental blurbs about how Lopez Lomong went from being a "Lost Boy of Sudan" to bearing the American flag in the opening ceremonies forced my heart into my throat. When I know these things, I have somebody to root for... a reason to watch. Not only do I understand the network's "tactic," I embrace it. From my little living room, I send good vibes out to all the athletes who compete because I know what they're fighting for.

It goes without saying that the above video and the said manipulation of emotions are exactly why I tune into the Olympics every two years - because I'm a story person and I love to be moved and inspired by anything true. I like to think that we as human beings are resilient and have the power to really rise above and reach our fullest potential.

When I hear that Dan Jansen's sister passed away 6 hours before his race, or that Keri Strug is forcing herself to do a vault with a busted leg, or that Jamaica's never had a bobsled team before... I'm absolutely transfixed. To see these people become champions makes me feel like a champion. It makes me feel as though I can do anything that I set my mind to. THE NEW YORK TIMES quotes Nastia Liukin as saying of her gold medal gymnastics performance in '08, "I wasn't thinking about whether I could make it, but how I could make it." Words like these are incredibly encouraging for someone like myself, who's having a little trouble getting centered and finding an attainable goal... and it's exactly why I continue to tune in -- to be exhilarated and to be moved.

When I'm feeling blue, I'll sometimes watch the following clip on youtube and think about how Michelle Kwan won every single prize a skater could possibly win, except the one she desired most - a gold medal at the Olympic games. However, even after choking at Salt Lake and coming away with the bronze, she got up and started skating again, proving that it's not the outcome, but the process that really matters.



Ciao for now.