Video Links

Now that I'm back home and completely re-adjusted to American life, and more specifically American University, I thought it would be cool to upload my most prominent and important videos to my blog. Make it complete, you know. You've been reading about all of my struggles and difficulties throughout my Prague experience, and finally, yes FINALLY, I've decided to show everyone my film. While I have my own very mixed feelings about it, Ogre is something that I'll always be proud of and will hold very near and dear to my heart. I want to thank Steve, Emma, all my professors, my parents, and of course Pavel and Thomas for for being so awesome and fun to work with, even with the language barrier. Writing this blog and updating my life for all of my lovely followers has been not just a pleasure, but a privilege, and I will always remain grateful to those that helped me facilitate this dream. 

Ogre

Directed and co-written as part of the FAMU International film program in Fall 2013.

Link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mWj5Uq6WHFg

MAPAM: American University’s Fight for Men’s Rights

Written and Directed for a video production course in Spring 2013

Link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RClhtTXphiY&list=UUTRytzZdvMtliSRSXRdasgw

Tom Johnson: Progressive Reform for the Common Man

Co-written, produced, and directed as part of National History Day in 2009

Link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XW8sJS6UPPw

From Devastation to Exploration: The Impact of the V2 Rocket

Co-written, produced, and directed as part of National History Day in 2010

Link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xL-aOgMf-pM

Maybe I'll just start typing...

So I know it has been a while since my last post. I think there's two reasons for that, neither being a lull in activity or boredom. One reason is that the day my shoot finished, my parents arrived here in Prague and spent the following 6 days with me. It was truly great getting to see my family here in this Disney land that I have been living in for a shockingly long time now. After all of the writing I've been doing during my stay here, all of the heavy describing, photographing, and general explaining, it was beyond nice to finally show my most supportive readers personally what I've been talking about. My parents read my blog almost every day, so by now I had assumed that they were overly familiar with Prague, like I had written so much about it that nothing could really surprise or impress them. Luckily, I could not have been more wrong. I'm confident now that they had a marvelous time here, loving everything they saw, from the interior of the Prague Castle to my apartment turned into a film set to even the intricacies carved into the 15-foot tall doors boarding the sidewalks (which are also wonderfully detailed!). Their fresh European eyes caught a lot of interesting and minute details about the city that I either never really cared about or I've just grown jaded to--doors, sidewalks, tram speed, random church steeples, lighting distant buildings, Czech food actually tasting good, etc. We walked all over the city, usually for miles and miles at a time, just taking in everything, from the sights to the people to the smells and thus then the food. There was never a dull moment in our conversation either; in fact, there was never enough time to talk about everything. Have you ever talked to someone who wants to hear literally everything? There's no end to the stories, the observations, the new lessons and bright realizations that bubble to the surface with enough time to talk it all over. I almost didn't realize all of the things I've seen and learned here in Prague and FAMU--I've just been going with the flow and rolling with the punches, always looking to the future.

But now the future is here: I've shot my film, my parents are gone, and it's mother fucking December. DECEMBER! What happened?! I guess what I'm saying is that I've always been aware of the time flying, but taking those moments to recall it all for my parents made me realize exactly how much I've experienced here. But then again, one can only take too much of one experience before it begins to erode away their mind. It's like when you pile small building blocks one on top of the other. The tower will grow and grow, getting taller and more commanding, confident and consummate, until one day it gets too tall, too many layered building blocks, and it wobbles in the wind until it all comes crashing down. If I were in this program for more than these 4 months, I think I would crash hard under all of the idea criticisms, poorly taught classes, intense pressure, and overwhelming surroundings day in and day out. Not that I'm not loving this as it all comes to a close, I'm just ready to come home. I miss DC, my frat, and the rest of my wonderful friends that don't include this group of 20-odd individuals I now know so well that I can differentiate them between their breathing patters and sock preferences. I miss Cleveland and all of the cute kitties there waiting for me; I miss my microwave, having a car, playing indoor soccer, snow, Cavs games, everything. I think I'm ready to be American again. 

Pictures from the set of "OGRE MAN" (working title)

Just a few selections from the second day of shooting. I'm too tired to write all about it, but I feel like you can kind of get the "picture", if you know what I mean. All in all, a great day, looking forward to finishing it off tomorrow.

Sun Chips

Last weekend, I took a train to Hamburg, Germany to see an old summer camp friend named Chema Rios Gutierrez. When he first arrived at camp, many of us quickly decided that we did not like the name Chema, as it does not roll off an American-English tongue necessarily clean. Say it out loud to yourself, something abut it feels incomplete, lacking in a certain satisfying sound. To me, it is as if it does not use up enough breathe, like you can say the whole name without using any air at all. Thus we decided to give him a nickname. I remember clearly we were playing tornado ball at the Roosevelt field by the boys cabins. He was playing goalie, guarding the stack of crates from people knocking it over with the balls when Mason and I decided his new name would be Sun Chips. How we got to that name, I doubt I'll ever really know, but it just worked so perfectly. Something about Sun Chips, perhaps his nonchalant naked tendencies, his perfectly hilarious butchering of the English language, or maybe just the way he would stroll around the camp grounds with his pants tucked into his socks proudly sporting a fanny pack--somehow, some way that nickname suits him well. Trust me on that.

Anyways, I got into Hamburg really late at about 12:30am, and right off the bat, we can't find each other. While it was nice to hear his voice again for the first time in 15 months, I didn't really picture our reunion to occur after a 10 minute game of phone tag. I walked back and forth through the Hamburg train station, from KFC to Le Crobag (weird name, right?) until I finally saw someone with a colorful Deadmau5 bag on and sweatpants tucked into their socks. BINGO. Some things never change. I like to think of myself as someone who remains true to them self, a man of sturdy moral integrity and confidence in self-worth so much so that I never felt the need to change who I am, from my personality down to my lackluster clothing style. Perhaps I'm overstating it, but I say this because I share these qualities with Sun Chips. I generally decide who my closer friends are based on how true they remain to their inherent personality and the rigidity of their character, a quality that takes courage and confidence to uphold. In other words, he's the same Spanish goofball I always knew. He speaks the same, dresses the same, listens to the same music, and in general is the same awesome kid that I co-lead a cabin of insane 8th graders with in 2012. That was a fucked up summer, let me tell ya; I don't know what I would have done without him. I'm pretty sure we both got fired and re-hired in one day, but on different days. This is why I knew I wanted to visit Sun Chips, and I had a hell of a time.

Friday night he showed me around the harbor area where he works, which was an amazing sight with all of the monstrosities of cargo ships docked all together. Did you know that Hamburg has the most bridges of any European city? Everyone can appreciate a nice bridge, especially old stone or draw bridges. Wandering along the river, surrounded by boats and global trade warehouses, sipping on a Polish beer, who would have thought that our next destination, literally two blocks over would be a red light district? I shouldn't say that we purposefully went to a red light district, it just happened to be a part of the Keiz--the crowded, loud, and overly colorful bar area of Hamburg. If you want to party, you go the the Keiz, end of story. Unlike Prague, where there are bars and clubs scattered all over the city, in Hamburg it is all compacted into about one square mile, perhaps smaller. It's a wonderful concept as it saves time getting from place to place, everyone goes there, and it really helps you keep the night going, though as you can imagine, it attracts an unappealing crowd. Bars lined up for blocks, one after the other, I quickly realized that this place was both a bar-hopping haven as well as a festering pool of grimy character and sloppy foreign degenerates. I have never seen so many strip clubs in one line of sight before in my life, and to top that off, I've never seen such long lines for them either. The red light district was pretty much the same as Amsterdam, except the women seemed much more enthused to work; they would open their windows and call us over as if they are Israeli street merchants trying to shamelessly sell a piece of semi-fresh fish by shouting at literally anything with ears. We didn't really spend too much time in this whole area as it's not really Sun Chips' favorite place to chill and I don't need lots of people around me to have a good time. Still, for the experience, we went to a few places and met some people. Fun fact: people in Hamburg bars are professional-level foosball players. I swear I never knew you could play table soccer at such an extreme level--they totally embarrassed me. We got back late and fell asleep almost instantly.

So Saturday we woke up painfully early to get to Sun Chips' soccer game at 9am, which unfortunately I couldn't play in. I usually hate watching non-professional soccer live because I just want to get out on the field and play, but I enjoyed this because Sun Chips didn't play until half way through the second half, so I had sideline company. After the game, we went back to his flat and cooked up some lunch. He showed me all of his musical DJ equipment and sound set up, which is quite extensive, and we relaxed while watching Spartacus Blood and Sand. During the afternoon, Sun Chips usually likes to research new music and find ways to incorporate it into his Drum and Bass beats, which he has been mixing for over a year now. He is currently taking two and a half years off of focus study to work in trade packaging and containers for a large shipping company stationed out of Hamburg. According to him, globalization is the future. I retorted with "Then I guess I'll make a movie about it." He really got me thinking about my future as a filmmaker and what exactly I plan on doing with that. Truthfully, I still don't really know, but it was cool to talk to someone from my past about it. Both Sun Chips and I  reached the point in our lives since we were last were together where we had to begin making real life decisions that will affect our entire lives. The big questions really. I've had the chance to see everyone I've ever known from before I decided to go into film except Sun Chips, and it brought me back to my roots being with him, recalling fun times from before when things really mattered.

I'm off topic. We walked around a very lively and artistically driven area for most of the afternoon, which was wonderfully compiled with small parks, interactive art exhibits, caged soccer courts, and fun little hole-in-the-wall food shops everywhere. He showed me a building that has no purpose other than to function as a graffiti canvas; it's 5-stories tall with every square in coated in spray paint. It reminded me a lot of Soho in New York City, except that buildings never exceeded two stories tall. There were a lot of secretive, gated neighborhoods that opened up right on the main street, their entrances guarded by a large swinging, wooden gate that looked like the doorway to the long, winding driveway of some ominous lair. We found a little soccer court in one of these hidden areas and kicked a ball around with a group of young German kids, which I suppose is the next best thing behind playing in the game that morning. If you know anything about me though, you know that I adore pick up soccer. We then proceeded to walk to the lake which is centered right in the middle of downtown Hamburg. It is surrounded by large 5-star hotels and beer houses with two small canal outlets on either side so that small ships can pass through into the river. It was a really wonderful sight and it solidified my opinion that Hamburg is Europe's most underrated city.

That night, Sun Chips took me to an underground Drum and Bass club in the outskirts of Hamburg. Drum and Bass is literally exactly what you think it is: a lot of bass, with fast drum beats playing over it. I've never been that into it, but as I learned very clearly, people fucking rock out to it like I've never seen before. Dancing to drum and bass is less like dancing and more like pulsating really quickly--I call it the "Radioactive Flesh". I got it from a movie. There were two floors to the club: the first floor was one large, grimy dance floor in which people bobbed their heads back and forth as if they got lobotomized and then thrown into a fast-paced square dance. The music was really cool though--the DJ was a local star and had the whole crowd bumping, and there was this intense hype man freestyle scat rapping at the speed of light over the beats. Upstairs got really weird though. The music was also drum and bass, but on top of the beats, two female asian twins in bathrobes just angrily rapped German at the crowd while chain smoking cigarettes. Not what I expected. We didn't stay very long. Still though, it's one of those shows that is worth seeing once. People seemed to be really into it, which made the atmosphere even weirder for me. Nobody danced near each other, they all just found some personal space and did their own thing, which I usually like as long as the music isn't an obscure combination of 3 different cultures meshed into one, loud, in your face noise. When we left the club, people were setting up an early morning fish market along the river, so we got a few fried fish sandwiches and a bag of pastries and headed on home.

We caught up on our sleep the next morning, sleeping well past the AM part of the day and even a bit into the PM. We left the apartment with about an hour and a half to spare before my train took off. We walked around some more areas of the city nearby my train station. Everything there was already super decorated for Christmas, which I guess makes sense seeing as how there is no Thanksgiving to separate the time between Halloween and "Jesus's birthday". He saw me off at the train station at about 3pm. I don't know when the next time I'll see Sun Chips will be, though I expect it to be quite a long time. He'll be in Hamburg for another 2 years, and I'll be in Washington DC, each of us studying and working towards our passions. All I know is our friendship will last, through college, first jobs, marriage, children, old age, and further. The time I got to spend with Sun Chips, much like Tevis, will always be invaluable to me, and I'll make sure to visit him every chance I get. Chema, to you I say good luck, stay safe, and keep being yourself because you're fucking hilarious. I know you'll do great things one day, and I'm excited to call you my friend. Oh, that reminds me, everybody should look up Txemox on SoundCloud--it's the next big thing in Drum and Bass.

Peacock Proof (among other things...)

It's been a little while since my last gallery, though truthfully I don't use my camera nearly as often as the first half of this semester. It's not that Prague has ceased to be as fantastical as it once was, I just have seen it a lot and I don't really feel like taking my camera to class or go on photo walks quite as much. However, the other day, in which I came across a flock of peacocks, was one of those times that I forgot how awesome Prague is and decided to go re-affirm it thorough a lens. I also took my camera with me for the "Off the Beaten Path" tour from a few weeks ago. For the amount of time between galleries, it's fairly bleak, but it definitely contains some worthwhile highlights. Czech it out.

Stress

I think I'm feeling it (finally). I've begun my sprint to the finish, and I think it's less of a 100m sprint and more of a 300m hurdles. Things on my plate currently include, but are not limited to:

• I've just begun registering for classes, which is especially difficult while studying abroad. I've been trying to figure out my Spanish minor but I'm worried now that having missed this past semester, there is no way I can finish it off without going abroad in the summer on a language intensive program, which costs a pretty penny. I'm currently sending about 3 emails at once--one to my advisor, one to the foreign language department chair, and one to a professor seeking permission to take his course. I have no clue how many credits the school thinks I'm taking right now and I can't seem to get the website to work half the time. I guess this falls under the category of standard college problems, though.
• I wrote a blurb for my fraternity's alumni pamphlet, which I actually didn't mind putting together as it forced me to look at my whole Prague film experience with a fratty mindset. Truthfully, I have not been getting into nearly as many drunken, disorderly, though usually comical, situations as I normally do in DC. I think it's a refreshing experience being away, disconnected from the nonstop clusterfuck that is being in a small fraternity, especially knowing that I'm charging head first back into the thick of it next semester. 
• I've generally been spending a lot of time in front of my computer, either watching movies, figuring out travel plans, registering, writing, emailing my production designers and managers, or now messing with my fantasy basketball teams. It gets dark here so quickly that I wake up on weekends with only 4 hours of light to enjoy. And now that all my classes except electives have ended (oh yeah, did I mention that?), I have tons of time with nothing to do but brood over the countless looming responsibilities that slowly approach me. Thus I've been trying relaxing techniques to clear my head when I find myself with hours to kill that actually involve sunlight and fresh air. Just yesterday, I went on a walk around town for 3 hours with a few coins, a book, and my camera, looking for nice places to cozy up and chill, in every sense of the word. I stumbled upon a quaint little park nestled inside a large courtyard once connected to an old library. I sat on a bench that bordered a mossy fountain, casted in thin shadows by the bare, gangly trees that circled it. It was a pleasant spot; I enjoyed reading there for an hour or so, warmed by the setting sun while contrastingly cooled by the brisk late autumn air. I swear there is something magical about seeing your breathe in the sideways-casted orangey red rays of the sun. Little did I know that this park also happened to be a haven to peacocks, or at least peacock lookalikes (Indian Peafowls, maybe). I didn't realize it until about a group of 5 of them walked right in front of me as I sat by the fountain. I placed my book on my lap, consumed in confusion and surprise, unsure if I was hallucinating 5 peacocks or if I was actually just trespassing on a private peacock farm. Sure enough, there were at least 10 walking around this little park, totally unafraid of people, just minding their own business. Nobody else in the park seemed to notice or care, but I had so many questions: Where did they come from? Why are they here? What is this place...? Are those really peacocks? Who feeds them? In fact, what do peacocks eat? Is this weird or am I just dumb? It was a peculiar addition to my afternoon, that's for sure. I decided to call that place Parkcock. Look to my next gallery for proof of the peacocks, I'll post it tomorrow. After the park, I walked along through winding streets and alleyways until I found an entirely english bookstore, which I perused for over an hour, just loving the fact that I could read everything I saw. I stayed there until the sun set. I love walking out of a building after a fresh sunset--something about it feels homey, almost calming. The streets bustled around dinner time, filled with couples holding hands, young families enjoying the cool evening, asian tour groups, and of course your typical politely drunken Czechs--loud, but never disrespectful. I ended my evening grabbing a cold pivo in a cafe and reading more of my book. The bartender was pretty cute and her English was good enough to tell me which beer she thought was best, but I decided to just keep it at a basic customer-supplier relationship as I wanted to get home in time to change for soccer. 
• Okay, so that certainly helped my stress levels, just walking around alone and finding interesting locations to relax in. I get back however to 15 emails from my production managers, designers, mentors, and professors, all of whom I've been trying to find times to meet with. I could never be a production manager--acting as a point of contact, managing logistics, calling locations, handling money...no thank you. I'm glad I've decided to pursue the creative side of the filmmaking process--I like that side of my brain better. 
• I'm meeting with my group every day now as things are piling up and time runs out. We shoot in a week and a half, which is pretty crazy the more that I think about it. We just finalized our dialogue and sent it to our Czech professor who will hopefully translate it for us quickly. Every meeting we storyboard another scene, which we have quite a lot of currently. We just finished our opening scene, leaving now just the scene in which the son and his friends make fun of the father on the street and the awkwardly ironic scene in the car after the son finds the mask. Today we saw an apartment that we can hopefully use to shoot in and tomorrow we'll be scouting out a cafe and street corner to use as well. Things are finally coming together, which makes me a bit nervous and stressed, but then again, that's normal, right?
• Now I'm going to a professional Czech hockey match, which should be funking awesome and a great distraction from everything I've just told you about. I haven't seen live hockey since high school, but I remember those games being really exciting live, so this should be great. I'll fill you in later this week. 
• One last thing: I'm going to see an old camp friend of mine this weekend in Hamburg. His name is Chema but I've always called him Sun Chips. He and I ran a cabin together in the summer of 2012; great guy, great company, can't wait to see him. 

Film Idea

I've decided I'm not going to give the story a prologue, explaining to you how arduous this pitching process has been, how many ideas I've trashed or even if I like it or not anymore. I figure with all of my new readers, I'll just tell you as best I can about my story that I've spent the past 2 and a half months sculpting, churning, burning in my mind every day until this exact point in time. All I will say is that I think I'm finally done spending hours awake, mulling over the characters of a father and a son, their relationship, their actions, what works and what doesn't, questioning my myself and my ideas to their very core. Anyways, before this get's out of hand, here it is scene by scene.

SON comes home after a school day to find his construction worker father sitting in the kitchen smoking a cigarette, his hard hat resting on his knee as he sits and appears to be relaxing for the first time in years. They discuss how the son's day at school went, which proves to be a disappointing one as the son got second chair in his violin section, though he really wanted first. It comes up that Pavel, the first chair recipient, has begun taking private lessons and the son can't compete with that, no matter how much he practices independently.  He asks his father if he can take lessons too, though indicators throughout the scene represent the poor financial situation these two are in. No food in the fridge, father working tough hours, etc. However, the father is bent on providing for the son, who doesn't ask for much, indicating how important these lessons are to him. The father tells him he may need to take on more hours to pay for his lessons, but it's no problem as long as he can help his son pursue his passion. It's a sweet moment that represents the supportive nature of this father-son relationship.

The next morning, the son wakes up to find a note from his father taped to the fridge: "Went out to find more work, you'll have to take the tram to school -- Dad". The son reads it inquisitively and carries on with his morning routine.

After school, the son and his two friends are walking down the street, shooting the shit, joking and laughing at each other while discussing their day. **A little context: there are thai massage parlors seemingly everywhere in Prague that always have some guy standing in front wearing a silly ogre mask, a green robe and an undersized umbrella handing out flyers. I'm not sure why, but it's a thing here** They see one of these ogre guys standing outside a parlor and proceed to mock him, calling him a clown, taking his umbrella, and making snarky remarks about how desperate a person must be to work that job. The son even says to him "Get a real job!" They laugh as they walk away down the street.

Cut to: Ogre man, still wearing his mask, opening a car door and getting in. He sits for a few seconds before taking off his mask, revealing it to be the father. The father lights up a cigarette, takes a few puffs, then quickly shoves the mask into the glove compartment and drives away.

Son is in the apartment, playing a song on his violin. The father walks in the door, looking very tired and subtly upset. The son asks him how his day was and if he ended up finding any new work, though the father responds shortly saying that he's just working in some convenience store. Before the son can ask any follow up questions, the father walks to his room and shuts the door, noticeably upset to the son's surprise. Son asks if he's taking the tram tomorrow or if his dad will drive him. Through the door, the father yells in response "Driving!"

They are in the car on their way to the son's school. THe father decides he needs to stop at a nearby mini mart to pick up some cigarettes. While he is inside, the son sneezes into his hands. While searching the car for a napkin or kleenex, he stumbles upon the mark in the glove compartment. He realizes with shock and horror that it was his father behind the mask yesterday, or else he wouldn't have had any reason to lie to him. Obviously the father is very prideful and ashamed to admit to his son the true nature of his new second job, but it becomes clear that his father was upset about how his son and his friends treated him more than his humility. The father gets back in the car, which leads to a terribly awkward and dramatically ironic convorsation in which the son pries the father for more information about his new job. The dad keeps lying, to the son's dismay, which only adds on to his now mixed feelings of shame and guilt. He is unsure whether or not to come clean to his dad about his discovery or find a new way to cope with this now unfortunate situation. Ultimately, he decides not to come clean.

Son and his friends are sitting in a diner. His friends are discussing all of the great things that they are planning on doing with their family during winter break. One is taking a cruise across the adriatic sea while the other plans on going to his dad's ski house in Switzerland. This makes the son feel very uncomfortable and he is unsure how to handle himself in the situation, so when they ask him what his plans are, he lies, saying that he found the new violin his dad bought him and that they are planning a trip to Rome. It's a questionable response, as his friends know that he isn't wealthy enough to buy this. The response signifies the son's shame in his father's new job and his newfound humiliation which accompanies his clearer understanding of how poor he really is. The son decides to leave his two friends at the diner abruptly.

Son is walking down the street, deep in thought and obviously conflicted emotionally. He turns a corner to see his father, or at least some guy in the same mask standing out front the same parlor. It's on his way home from school though so after a brief hesitation, the son keeps walking. As he passes the man in the mask, they both make a direct, analytical but uncomfortably long eye contact. The son, unsure of how he feels, afraid of confronting his father for his actions as well as coming to terms with his own unstable life, turns and runs away, leaving the man in the mask to watch him go, alone and dejected.

So that's it. It's so meticulously thought out because that is how my program works, really. The professors hear your pitch twice every week and criticize every single beat of the story that could potentially skew reason or leave gaps in the traits of the characters. Anything that strays from a solid, three-act structure gets trashed and you're left with a shell of a story once again. I'm sticking with this story because it makes sense. It's not too outlandish and can be completed within an 8 minute time frame, though we may need to do some cutting still. I think this story could be successfully shot as a silent film, which is always a good indication because it shows that the characters are properly fleshed out and that action tells the story more than words or subtext. I've found FAMU and its professors to be very stifling, as I don't really ever feel the freedom to explore my own imagination and trust my intuition with my characters. However, through a lot of thought, this is what I'll be shooting come the end of this month, and I grow more and more excited every day. I'll be director on set so I'm working very hard to plan out every little detail that I'll need to relay to my actors and director of photography. I think this will end up being a great film though, which makes me happy that I've reached that mindset with the end of pitching classes (yesterday was our last session). We finished draft 6 a few nights ago and have storyboarded the diner scene, with more getting done every day. This has taken me literally two and a half months to create, which sounds kind of sad seeing as how all I have to show for it is 8 paragraphs, but rest assured, it's going to become something certainly special. I can feel it, and soon you can see it. Stay tuned.