Film

Some of you know that at the end of high school, when most of my friends were waiting on their acceptance letters from Universities, I was waiting to hear from a film program at Humber College.

University, I thought, was just more busy-work, which I was barely standing in grade 2, much less grade 13. I had stayed in University residences with older siblings of friends, and to me it looked pretty damned close to a den of inequities (I don't know what that means).

College, I had been told, was much more practical -- skill oriented. For level headed people looking for careers. I guess I should've noticed that I was in no way looking for a career, much less one in film and tv. . . The program had 68 slots for 3000 applicants, so I liked my odds -- I didn't want to go to school at all.

Somewhere during the application process, the odds against me got my competitive juices flowing (uh, that sounds gross. . .). I wrote a pretty decent application essay, and my grades (despite my better efforts) were quite solid (something about taking mostly English courses), and since most honor-roll kids go to University, I think my marks probably did the most to get me a spot. When my acceptance letter arrived, I was quite proud, and it didn't seem like there was a decision to be made -- the odds had made it for me.

So, at 18, and about 135 pounds, I headed off to film school. Shunning residence, I rented a third floor bedroom and bathroom from a crazy black family in a terrible neighborhood, and started my education.

Much like my time at the University of Guelph, I spent most of my hours alone (though, at film school, I managed to watch about 16 hours of tv a day), and when I had class, I was generally disappointed at the pace and depth. But I learned a lot (probably more from my neighborhood then from school), and I picked up some basic film-making skills.

Again, like my time at Guelph, after about 2 years, it seemed like about enough. The third year of the course was built largely around a big scale drama film shoot, and what amounted to an internship (something like 300 industry hours). The big scale film shoot was basically a huge popularity contest -- scripts would be voted on, the script writers would choose the producers, who would chose the directors, who would chose the camera crew, and so on. Basically, everyone was acting like 5 year olds trying to be the cute girl's "Best-best-best friend". Which is fine, really, 'cause it was just an exercise. We were right on the edge of the industry (such as it is), slowing being pushed out of the nest. The moment, the epiphony, came from a hard working grip/gaffer/d.o.p. type guy named Matt -- we were walking through the school, talking about the city, and I mentioned that I didn't think I wanted to live in Toronto forever. He said, "uh, you're picking the wrong industry".

Damn.

Somewhere in there, I drove out west with my friend Kevin -- and I'll save that story for another time, except to say that, as is the theme of my early years, I was granted many hours alone for reflection and came to the conclusion that something was amiss in my life. Ha!

Like any good 20 year old, I revolted against the whole thing. I stopped watching TV and shunned it as if it were poison. I started seeing movies as manipulative forces for evil. Basically, a 1/5th life crisis where everything around me was too blame.

I stopped having anything to do with film-making -- aside from ending up back at my old job at Muskoka Movies. . . (customer -- "is this movie any good?" me -- "I don't watch movies, they're a waste of time"). . . and eventually (with some help from friends who loaned me good books), ended up going to University, for English.

Skip ahead, skip ahead.

The bass player from my old friends the Radical Dudez, Andy Landen (you-tube search his name for some great stuff) was a film student at Queens (and now at USC, I think), and his films are fantastic. They aren't presumptuous, pompous, or preened (uh, that alliteration kind of got away from me, because they are nicely polished. . .). . . And I credit him with winning me back to the film world. He just wanted to make stuff that was cool and interesting and funny.

We had some talks about him directing a music video for the Barn Flyz -- and his one stipulation was that Peja would be involved. We never got around to making anything, but I liked the idea of having the kid involved.

Skip ahead, skip ahead.

And now I'm trying again.

Take care.