discoveries and re:discoveries

What's up good people? What have I been up to? Just focusing on trying to get one of my scripts, Too Marvelous for Words, financed and filmed. I'm getting a budget breakdown and am about to approach an A-list casting director and cinematographer. There are some other things shuffling around with it as well, but I'm a little too superstitious to speak on them. I stopped working on my novel to do some prep on it (researching some potential crew people, doing a rewrite, speed reading through two outstanding books about production: What I Really Want to Do Is Produce by Helen de Winter and Shooting to Kill by Christine Vachon, cutting out tons of pictures to create a "look book" to convey visual ideas for the script) but hope to start back on the last chapter of the middle section next week.

And still watching movies. I just finished the best movie. It's my first Ozu film, Tokyo Story.


It had been recommended to me, indirectly, as something I might want to see for it's minimalistic visual style in relation to Too Marvelous, which I intend to shoot very simply. But Tokyo Story is a great movie. Me and the wife had, like, a 20-minute discussion after it. It's just real. It was shot very well, but what really got me was the story and how accurately it depicts the loneliness of getting old, of raising children who have forgotten you, of the disappointment often reciprocated between parents and their adult children. For it to be a 55 year old Japanese film, it dealt with some highly contemporary themes, ageless themes, in fact. I had heard Ozu was a beast before, but now I'm gonna have to get involved (c) Raphael Saadiq.

Some other recent discoveries (and rediscoveries) that I plan to implement: Kramer .vs Kramer's look, period. That film is so natural. I watched it again a couple weeks ago online via Netflix. Barry Lyndon's au naturale lighting was kind of gutsy for a period piece in retrospect and much up my alley for this project. I just watched Talk to Her yesterday (Habla con Ella por mi amigos espanol) and loved the way Almodovar found a way to make multiple hospital scenes each look interesting. (Yes, my script has multiple hospital scenes. But it does not, unfortunately, have Paz Vega.)


I'll be off work Thursday and Friday to make some calls and take care of some other, more practical business. I've bought some tickets lately, for two shows, that I'm amped about: Sly and the Family Stone in Anaheim on Friday night and the Prince .vs Michael Soulslam in Glendale w/ DJ Spinna on May 2.


You know I'll have the pics and stuff, either here or on MySpace. Just keeping you posted. Holla at your boy.

Musically: rediscovered Beck's Guero and The Information today, as well as Alice Russell's My Favourite Letters. And you need to kill for The Persuaders' "Sureshot."



HAPPY BIRTHDAY MAMA!!!!!!!!!!!

My interview with Charles Burnett

1988 MacArthur "Genius" Grant recipient Charles Burnett was born in 1944 and raised in Los Angeles. While a student at UCLA Film School, he directed the masterpiece Killer of Sheep (1977), which details a poor, black South Central L.A. man's emotional struggles in the face of his brutal day job. The film was later named one of the "100 Most Influential Films of All Time" by the National Society of Film Critics and was selected for preservation by the Library of Congress.

Despite the obstacles he faced promoting black stories that weren't deemed "commercial enough," more gems were produced: 1983's coming of age tale, My Brother's Wedding, 1990's ensemble piece To Sleep With Anger and 1994's cop drama The Glass Shield. He was honored by the Los Angeles Pan-African Film Festival this February, where he premiered his epic, Namibia: The Struggle for Liberation, starring Danny Glover. Despite his accolades and a fine body of work, he is far from a household name and faces struggles disproportionate to a filmmaker of his stature in getting his projects financed. Preparing for a trip to Toronto, Burnett chatted about his films, the mine fields of low-budget cinema and why you should never disturb a hippopotamus.

Jason Gilmore: Who were the film directors that inspired you growing up?
Charles Burnett: I was influenced by a lot of people. I suppose a lot of the early black and white films that Hollywood did. (Charlie) Chaplin and (Buster) Keaton and people like that. William Wellman. A lot of the great cameraman that directed.
JG: Jumping ahead a bit, could you talk about the climate at UCLA film school in the late 1960s and early 70s and how that affected your work?

CB: Well, it was great place to be. UCLA was very cheap at the time and it was very diverse in more ways than one. A lot more people of color were there. There were a number of people in the film department. [They] made an effort to bring in a number of Native Americans and Hispanics and Blacks. And Asians, to integrate the film department. It was part of a ethnic communication program that was started and I was one of the TAs in that program. One of the things on campus, when you saw a black person, it didn’t matter how far away they were -- if it was a shadow -- you’d wave and introduce yourself to show the solidarity. The other thing about UCLA that was really great was that you had a lot of working class people there. It was diverse in that sense. And UCLA, the equipment was there so you could go out and make your film. And everyone was really guarded about their projects in Project 1 because it was so competitive. So it caused tension in a good way. And then you learned from other students, you worked on their films and that was the best part about it, you know. You were always on campus, working at soundstage, around the location working. The faculty was great. They really were made up of people who were very open minded. You could argue with them about things, there wasn’t any set way. You could do what you wanted to do to make it work.
JG: That brings us to some of your earliest works like Several Friends (1969), The Horse (1973)and Killer of Sheep (1977). Where did the idea for Killer of Sheep come from?
CB: It came from working on some student films and they were doing films about the working class and the poor and that sort of thing and they were doing movies about shopping and management exploiting workers and workers forming a union and everything was happening. The people I knew were just happy to get jobs. There were all these other things that were impacting them. There wasn’t any kind of solution. So that’s where I came from.
JG: I really admire a lot of the neo-realism of your early work and I was wondering how much of Killer of Sheep was improvised.
CB: It wasn’t improvised. It was all scripted.
JG: Oh, wow. Okay.
CB: There were maybe one or two scenes in there, but 99% of it was scripted.
JG: That’s interesting. So as a director, how do you create -- because that film looked so natural, it looked like a documentary -- and I’m wondering how you can create natural moments like that without looking staged.

CB: Well, that’s one of your goals in making a film like that. You want to look like you just picked the camera up and shot. Documentary-like, but not a documentary. You didn’t want to impose your values on it and make it an obvious, plotted situation. It was supposed to look like a slice of life and form the narrative by the events you see and how they relate to one another.
JG: Right. And I heard that a lot of the actors in that film were locals who’d never acted before. Is that true?

CB: Some of them had dabbled in acting. Henry Gayle Sanders had worked on two films before. And he had the most experience. Charles Bracy, we grew up together and he worked on another film I did. Kaycee Moore who played Stan’s wife, was someone I met. She was going to an acting workshop in Hollywood. I knew that she had done some stage work but it was mostly like workshop performances. And another actor, the bald-headed guy that comes up that wanted Stan to rob for them, those guys were all friends of mine.
JG: What’s the challenge of working with established actors versus actors who are early in the process or brand new?

CB: It depends. You have to work with either one, to get the performance, that’s the main thing. It’s a matter of choosing the right people. A lot of it has to do with giving the person time, some people have talent and some don’t and you discover that right away. A lot of it has to do with you and their trust in you and their knowing specifically what you want. With more experienced actors, you can cut to the chase quicker and get to what you want. They come prepared and have a lot of ideas and things like that and a lot of tools in their repertoire, so to speak. Actors will take their time to mold into the character and sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn’t. But you need time to work with non-actors.
JG: A practical question: How did you get access to the sheep at that facility in Killer of Sheep?
CB: One of the interesting things is that, around that time, a lot of vegetarians were making films about slaughterhouses. When I tried to get permission to shoot at a slaughterhouse here, they had closed the doors to all filmmakers. And so I had to go way up to Santa Rosa {about 420 miles} and there was a privately owned slaughterhouse and the owner said that he’d be willing to help anyone that was trying to help themselves. He was very very generous and let me have run of the place as long as I didn’t stop the production.
JG: I’ve noticed how important music in your films. I wondered if you had a particular philosophy on how you’d like music to work within your films.
CB: It’s an added element, you know. It puts you in a creative mood and moment and helps you to reference things and give meaning. So it plays an important part.
JG: Was there a time when you thought you’d be accepted by the industry or did you kind of sense from the beginning that you’d have the independent career that you’ve had?
CB: I didn’t think I’d have any career at first. It was very difficult at the time that we were making films in the ’60s to even think about it. It seemed impossible. Unless you had a relative in the business. Even then, they wouldn’t let people of color make films. They wouldn’t let you be in a position of power, like a director or something like that. The venues just weren’t open.
JG: In 1990, you directed the film that first introduced me to your work and that was To Sleep With Anger. You had a real powerhouse cast with Danny Glover and Sheryl Lee Ralph and the great Mary Alice. I was just wondering if you did a lot of rehearsal for that film and if you are a big fan of rehearsal in general.

CB: One of the bad things about independent film is that you don’t get much time for rehearsal. You come to the set and you’ve had meetings, hopefully, to get everything done, worked out with the actors, either individually or as a group. Because on a low budget film, there’s no money for rehearsal. And even a meeting, you have to be careful how you word having a meeting because they could look at that as rehearsal too. It’s really weird. So you come to the set and you and the actors rehearse and block the scene and they go to makeup and you and the cameraman start filming the scene. And [the actors] come back and you rehearse it again and then you shoot.
JG: One thing that I just learned about you -- and I don’t know why I didn’t know this -- was that you write most of the films that you direct.
CB: A lot of them, I try to, yeah.
JG: Because I’m a writer-director also, so I’m really intrigued by what the original inspiration is for some of your stories. I was really wondering about To Sleep With Anger and where that story came from.
CB: It developed after trying to do a film that was based on a true story. We started working on this film that took place here and then [the production company] started wanting to change everything and make it more “commercial” or something, I don’t know. I said, “You can’t do it that way, it’s based on a true story.” And so we got into this big argument. So I said, let me do something that’s not based in reality. So I started on that and they started putting their hands in the pot again and wanted to make changes. I said, “Wait a minute, you’re taking the whole heart of the movie out.” They didn’t want the folklore stuff in it. They wanted the black middle class portion to be expanded. So we parted ways again. But it was actually a reaction against another film that I wanted to do. I thought since this is fiction, that whatever they do will be okay. But as soon as you started writing and bonding with the material, then they come in and want to screw up everything. The other part of it was that I wanted to do something with folklore and how important it is. How when I was coming up, it was part if a foundation that you grew up to really respect in life. Looking around, you find it’s gone. Without it, I think people are soulless. That’s why I wanted to do something that talked about that.
JG: Then, after that, you did the highly underrated The Glass Shield, which had an early performance from Ice Cube. Was that movie done for Miramax?
CB: No, it was done for CiBy2000. Miramax distributed it.
JG: Oh, okay. So did you have any interaction with the Weinstein Brothers?
CB: Only towards the end.
JG: When was that?
CB: When we finished the film and CiBy 2000 and they took it to them for distribution.
JG: I just finished a book about them. What was that like?

CB: It was interesting. They’re upfront. Harvey is like, if he disagrees, he disagrees. You’ll just leave and box it out. (laughs) And there’s no hard feelings after that. But that’s the way it is. But they’re very straightforward and I have to give him credit for that. They didn’t try to do anything underhanded.
JG: And you also directed some TV movies that I think people might have seen but they might not have known it was you. [a few highlights -- 1998’s Oprah Winfrey Presents: The Wedding with Halle Berry, 2000’s Finding Buck McHenry with Ossie Davis and Ruby Dee, a segment of the 2003 PBS documentary The Blues.] What are some of the challenges you faced in working in television versus film?
CB: I don’t think there’s a huge difference. Episodic television there’s a lot of challenges, once you develop the pilot, if you’re lucky to do that, the rest of it you’re just punching the clock. But in a drama, a movie of the week, it’s like doing a low budget film. It depends on who you have to work with. Who’s the producer and what are they like? And how respectful they are. Usually, you don’t have that much money, so you have to shoot quicker. There’s less chances for nuances, I think, because everything has to be explained from top to bottom.
JG: I’m really sorry that I missed Namibia: The Struggle for Liberation at the Pan African Film Festival. Let us know more about it for those who aren’t familiar with the film or your struggle to get it made.

CB: Well, it’s a story about the liberation movement of southwest Africa. Under the leadership of SWAPO, the South West African Peoples’ Organization, under Sam Nujoma who started leading this whole thing in the late 1950s. He went into exile and they sort of waged war in exile…. Germany colonized them and in 1905, they massacred over half the population. After World War I, the German control was taken over by the British. Then South Africa took control and decided to annex them and [made them a part] of the apartheid system. Then, they started to form organizations to rebel. And then finally, came the massacre that happened in the old location, there were shots that killed about 11 of them and that’s when [Nujoma and his supporters] went into exile. Finally, after years of war and attrition, South Africa finally gave up. But with the help of the Cubans. The Cubans came in and really were responsible for a lot of the militia moving out.

JG: Do you have a distributor for that film?
CB: No, not yet.
JG: What was it like shooting in Namibia? This is the first motion picture shot there, right?
CB: Right. Some places you still had wild animals running around. Elephants and stuff like that in the road. We lived in one part of Caprivi, right over by the Zambezi River, at the Caprivi Lodge. There were hippos over at the bottom of the bank and alligators. So when you came in at night, you looked around and when you got up in the morning, you looked around, because you didn’t want to walk into the hippos any time because they were very dangerous. They kill more people than anything. We were shooting in that area and there was an elephant water hose and we were right in the middle of the path to the water hose. Then we shot in Etosha, which is a place where lions and you name it were running around loose and that was interesting. The people were great to work with. It was a great experience because we were all over Namibia from the west coast from Swakopmund and Walvis Bay all the way to the East, which is bordering Botswana and Zambia.
JG: My final question is being a writer-director and a black writer-director, where I’ve been in Los Angeles for eight or nine years and been in meetings where they say, “Oh, we love your script but….” You know, whatever whatever. What are the things that keep you going and continue to encourage you?
CB: I wish I could tell you. It comes down to the individual. How much desire you have to do it. I sort of stay away from that question in answering it because I don’t know how much one can endure. You have to have some kind of support. If you have a family, it’s disastrous, you know, because you don’t work that often. You have kids going to college and stuff like that. I would tell someone they should get a part-time job or do something to support yourself. There’s so many people out of work and so many people who I know who’ve gone on to other things. I don’t know. I do it because I have this optimism that maybe I can do it again. And it gets harder and harder, you know. I haven’t worked since the Namibia film, it’s been a couple years. And you keep going out and hearing, “Oh, we love you” but I can’t get a film.

The Landlord

I saw the most interesting movie last night.

AFI and The Skirball Center combined to host a series called Cinema Legacy, in which they invite renowned filmmakers to sit in on a screening and Q & A for a movie that has influenced them as a filmmaker. John Singleton was last night's guest and he screened The Landlord, which I had been trying to find for years.



It was the first film directed by Hal Ashby, a seriously slept on Hollywood legend who went on to direct some of the most critically acclaimed films of the 70s (including The Last Detail, Being There and one of my all-time favs, Shampoo). It deals with Elgar, a spoiled 29-year-old rich kid (Beau Bridges) who decides to buy a beat up tenement in Park Slope, Brooklyn. His plans are to kick out the poor black residents and turn the place into a big old bachelor pad. But he is affected by the various residents there and falls for both the troubled but soulful Fanny (played by the sexy, late, great Diana Sands) and the mixed go-go dancer Lanie (the unbelievably beautiful Marki Bey), in addition to falling out with his snobby but liberal family, who are confused by his increasing empathy towards Negroes.

I don't even know where to start. It is clearly a film made by an editor (Ashby was one of the best in Hollywood before getting this break through his director Norman Jewison.) as it is full of Godard-like jump cuts and abstract images. Characters talk to the screen at times and several montages, as Singleton pointed out, are reminiscent of Do The Right Thing. The score, by Al Kooper (just after his ouster from Blood, Sweat & Tears) with help from The Staple Singers is stunning; it has reintroduced the option of finding a talented but versatile popular artist to score certain films of mine. The cinematography by Gordon Willis (prior to his similarly themed work in the Godfather films and Annie Hall) is luminous. (The no-nudity sex scene between Bridges and Bey and the scene where where Bridges and Bey walk back to her place after meeting are particularly beautiful.) Despite the film's occasional revelations that it was hella low budget (there are actually two scenes where one can see boom mics), it is as an honest a treatment of race relations -- as well as a phenomenal document of the general sociological chaos of the early 1970s -- as I have ever seen on film.

I got a chance to holla at John Singleton real quick after the Q&A, which was moderated by Ayuko Babu, founder of the Pan African Film Festival (which I recently volunteered for). People were all around, so I didn't get to say much, except to slip him my card and request to interview him for Intrepid Media. We'll see what happens. But it was an honor to meet him and a lot of the comments he made about remaining true to yourself as an artist really hit home. On that note, I wanted to thank those who reached out to me after my last entry. I'm not going anywhere. I was just sick and had too much time to think.

We're moving into pre-production on the Parkside Boulevard short. So you'll be getting the blow by blow on that soon. And the work on Somewhere Between Here and There is coming along nicely. I actually plan to spend the rest of the day typing up my changes for Chapter 5 and continuing my rewrite for Chapter 4. Wifey's shooting a pilot for BET as we speak. So life is well.

The beginning of the end

"The doors was closed/I felt like Bad Boy's street team/I couldn't work the Lox." -- Kanye West, "Touch the Sky"

So it's been an interesting last few days in my life. I got the flu for the first time on Friday and was in bed for a couple of days with a 101 degree fever. It broke sometime mid-Saturday and I've progressively felt better ever since. It was good to be off King Day and I took off today just to continue to build strength.

But it gave me a lot of time to think about my present and my future. Lord willing, I'll be 31 years old next month, and I've gotten to an age where I can't keep working at a day job that takes so much of my time (and energy and gas money) and keep writing and fighting to be an artist for the other four hours of the day. I think my body is showing me, dude, you're stressed and you can't keep just working all day and watching TV/writing/reading all night and just hoping that something you write will magically rescue you from this grind. (Especially at the lightning quick rate that people reject and dismiss every single thing I send out.) Yeah, yeah, yeah, it's a number's game and the cream eventually rise to the top, blah blah blah. But I'm almost 10 years in the game and I've got the same won-lost record as the untalented writers. And I'm not untalented.

What I am is aging. So now I'm trying to figure out what else I want to do with my life. I'm even talking with the wife about going to grad school and being a graduate assistant basketball coach. Because coaching basketball is the only other thing I could see myself doing that I wouldn't feel like I'd been wasting my time. Then, I was thinking maybe I just need to learn a trade. Like I should become an electrician or something. And write on the side. That way, if I never find a way to conquer the relentless apathy with which my work seems to leave editors and agents, at least I'll be getting paid handsomely for doing very little work, and can do that very little work as infrequently as I like.

So I'm giving myself two years. I still have to finish my rewrite of my novel (should be done by summer). Still have to finish my short script for Parkside Boulevard and film the pilot. Have a few other things I had planned to do this year. And then, for the first time in a long time, I'll be working on some new short stories/screenplays, etc, probably this summer, and we'll see where they go.

But my optimism is fading. I thought it was my creativity that was leaving me, but it turns out, it's just my optimism. (And if the perpetual optimist himself is doubting his place in the world, you should look for shelter too, my friend.) The writers' strike hasn't helped things either. It made me think about how shook I would be if I was on the other side of the fence and already successful, and now stood to lose my house, cars, kids' college tuition, all because of something completely beyond my control. That would suck too. So either way, it's a tough tough nut to crack and I just don't know if I want to deal with being so unreasonably obscure a writer for an indefinite period of time.

Or maybe it's just time to change jobs.

On a happier note, the wife and I went out to see a sneak preview of Michel Gondry's new film, Be Kind Rewind.



It inspired me tremendously, despite my current gloom and doom attitude. I feel weird going into details about movies that I saw for free at a sneak preview, but I can definitely say GO SEE IT!!! Jack Black, Mos Def, Danny Glover star, as well as Melonie Diaz, whom I liked very much in A Guide to Recognizing Your Saints. Mia Farrow and Sigourney Weaver appear in smaller, important roles. The plot, like all of Gondry's movies, is strange: Mos works at Danny Glover's decrepit, barely in business, VHS rental store. Jack Black is this extra weird cat that hangs around a lot and seems far more trouble than he's worth. Jack gets electrocuted and unintentionally demagnetizes all the store's tapes. The few customers are disgruntled and complain, so Mos, Jack and Melonie (whom they borrow from a local dry cleaners) go Fat Albert-style and use whatever borrowed or stolen props, people, or locations they can to reenact 20 minute versions of each movie for the rental customers. The improbable solution takes off and the store begins to see unprecedented business. Then, the copyright infringement folks show up with their fines and threats of jail time.

The movie starts slow, and Jack Black's electrocution scene is LONG -- past all plausibility -- but those are almost finicky complaints for a film that does such a brilliant job of capturing hope and community and the power of cinema. The entire cast shines. Really, go see it. I love Gondry for the same reason I love Pharrell, because they have somehow found a way to remain 12 years old, in a world that humans seem to age in dog years every day.

As for me, I will continue to do what I can. Until I can do no more.

And then I'll be gone.

the ten albums that changed my life

ripped from my article at Intrepid Media

10. Rio (Duran Duran, released 5/10/83)

Was Duran Duran the best male pop band of the 1980s? Probably not. But they were the best looking, their videos were the most adventurous and they had the catchiest songs -- even if none of them made any sense. I have just described everything that mattered in the '80s. The three-headed Taylor crew (drummer Roger, guitarists Andy and John), androgynous synth wiz Nick Rhodes, and charismatic front man Simon LeBon were focused and ready to take over the world. This album launched their superstardom and is the solitary reason why everytime I find myself sitting at the front of a boat, I feel compelled to yell, "HER NAME IS RIO AND SHE DANCES ON THE SAND!" Seriously.

Songs you should know: Rio, Hungry Like the Wolf, Save A Prayer

9. Raising Hell (Run-DMC, rel. 7/18/86)

Sometimes it's best to have your back placed firmly against the wall. After two pretty successful albums, childhood friends Joseph "Run" Simmons and Darryl "DMC" McDaniels had reached a pivotal crossroad: commercialize their music by merging further with rock, or stay true to the hip-hop culture of the streets of New York. What resulted was enough of both to make everyone happy, and arguably the most important album in rap history. They singlehandedly made a conservative MTV (yeah, I know) open the doors to rap music and set a bar for cohesion that even they couldn't live up to. There is nothing on this album to add or subtract. It is, as one of the songs on the album states, perfection. RIP Jam Master Jay.

Songs you should know: Walk This Way, My Adidas, Peter Piper

8. It Takes A Nation of Millions to Hold Us Back (Public Enemy, rel. 4/19/88)

You will never understand how much I needed this album. The Bomb Squad's production, layered with multiple samples per song in the days before you had to pay for them, was fiery, relentless and unprecedented. ("Rebel Without A Pause" is the dopest beat ever made, period.) Chuck D wasn't even the best rapper on his own label (scroll down to album #5), but his threats felt like promises and his arguments were indisputable. And long before he became better known as the buffoonish headliner of several VH-1 dating reality shows, Flavor Flav was the buffoonish sidekick to the most influential rap group of its' time. But Flav never changed, the times changed. Without his mercurial court jester, the whole thing would've never worked.

Songs you should know: Don't Believe the Hype, Bring the Noise, Night of the Living Bassheads

7. Abbey Road (The Beatles, rel. 9/26/69)

The last Beatles album recorded (though not the last released), the bickering Fab Four had agreed to play nice long enough to end on a positive note. This is their funkiest album and also their most sublime. Abbey Road is the CD I play for my Beatle-hating friends without telling them who it is. Inexplicably, after nodding their head in agreement for minutes, they will ask who's playing, at which point, I will smack them over the head with a picture of Paul McCartney and storm out of the room. "Because" has some of their best harmonies ever. "You Never Give Me Your Money" is just amazing. I liked "Something" enough to put it on my wedding favor mix CD. And I liked the album enough to parody its famous cover on our wedding CD's cover.

Songs you should know: Come Together, Something, Here Comes the Sun

6. Purple Rain (Prince & the Revolution, rel. 6/25/84)

Despite my constant, romanticized comments about the greatness of the 1970s, so far we are seeing where my heart really lies. We will never see the likes of Mr. Prince Rogers Nelson again: part Hendrix, part James Brown, part Dylan, part Sly Stone, and still somehow completely, unabashedly original. I was more a Michael kid than a Prince kid, but the power of this soundtrack (and the accompaying movie, which still moves me despite its glaring flaws) was undeniable. The seamless blend of rock, soul, power ballads and synthesizers was mind blowing then, as it is still is today.

Songs you should know: Let's Go Crazy, Purple Rain, When Doves Cry


5. Bigger and Deffer (LL Cool J, rel. 7/1/87)

"I don't run from the cops/Makin' suckers jock/And I'm only 18/Makin' more than your pops."

Like OutKast's ATLiens, this was the risky sophomore album that could've killed his career. But the gamble paid off and it paid off so violently, that 19-year-old James Todd Smith became the reason I wrote my first rap. I've heard quotes from Bob Dylan fans who say that his songs were clues on how to live your life. Yeah, that's pretty much what happened to me with Bigger and Deffer.

On the very first song, "I'm Bad", his confidence is so adamant, it's infectious. What other song begins with "No rapper can rap quite like I can/I'll take a musclebound man and put his face in the sand?" He delivers well-written, imaginative tale after the other: the all-purpose girlfriend of our dreams in "Kanday," the ins and outs of a run-down local haunt ("The Bristol Hotel"), a vain but witty day-in-the-life excerpt ("The Do Wop"). We all know that rap and testosterone are nearly inseparable. But on track 9, he did the unthinkable. He made a soft rap love song (the legendary "I Need Love") with such gravity that even the haters had to sing along. It was a difficult balance. Go back and listen to Big Daddy Kane's attempts to cover similar ground. They sounded ridiculous, even back then, and precipitated his demise. LL's wild brashness made you want to reach the moon as well. Still does, in fact, 20 years later.

Songs you should know: I'm Bad, I Need Love, Go Cut Creator Go

4. Off the Wall (Michael Jackson, rel. 8/10/79)

It seems funny to say it now, but his career was thought to be dead. Even more dead that it appears to be at the moment, with his face all chopped and bleached, with child molestation charges as plentiful as the Los Angeles air has smog. He was going to be another Leif Garrett, probably, or Shaun Cassidy, a footnote. Whatever happened to whats his name from the Jackson 5? The critical and financial failure of The Wiz -- in which he'd appeared the year before as the Scarecrow -- didn't help. Enter Quincy Jones, the disco era, and one pissed off 20-year-old Virgo. What results is a masterpiece. Dude had Stevie, McCartney and David Foster writing songs for him. It is impossible to leave this album in a bad mood.

Songs you should know: Rock With You, Don't Stop 'Till You Get Enough, I Can't Help It

3. Midnight Marauders (A Tribe Called Quest, rel. 11/9/93)

Things I remember as clearly as I remember anything: The day I bought the cassette. The first time I heard it in its entirety. Tripping off the bass kicks on "We Can Get Down." Buying it on CD a few months later. Listening to "Electric Relaxation" for hours at a time. Staring at the cover for days, trying to name every rapper featured. The first time I saw the video for "Award Tour." Arguing with some crazy girl over the dilemma posed in "Sucka Nigga." Hoping that one day I'd grow up to be as cool as Q-Tip. Digging through my parents' vinyl, trying to find the original samples. Spending a late night out with my boy Shawn that was eerily similar to the scenario described in "Midnight." Being amazed at the effortless chemistry between Tip and scrappy co-star Phife Dawg. Many people prefer their previous album, The Low End Theory, but to me, it's no contest. Marauders is more assured, hits harder, and, along with The Chronic, is possibly the most universally respected rap production made in the last twenty years. It gave me permission to be me.

Songs you should know: Award Tour, Electric Relaxation, Oh My God

2. Thriller (Michael Jackson, rel. 12/1/82)

This is like describing the merits of oxygen. I know my limitations.

Songs you should know: Thriller, Beat It, Billie Jean

1. Talking Book (Stevie Wonder, rel. 10/27/72)

C'mon, now. How did you not know that Stevie Wonder would find his way to the top of this list? This is the only album that I own on cassette, vinyl, and CD, as well as the internet. I discovered it sometime in high school and it seems to follow me wherever I go. I directed one of my own plays as a freshman in college and closed it with "Blame It on the Sun." Made it through a disappointing relationship thanks to "Looking for Another Pure Love." (Jeff Beck's guitar solo here is one of the most beautiful things I've ever heard in my life.) Wooed my wife with "You Are the Sunshine of My Life." And I refuse to die until I learn how to play "You and I (We Can Conquer the World)" on piano.

Over Thriller, you say? Better than the album you compared to oxygen, you say? Well, Thriller makes me appreciate greatness, but Talking Book makes me want to do something great. It, like many of the works listed here, was the work of someone who finally burst through after knocking on the door so long. And that encourages me. Because I'm still knocking.

Songs you should know: You Are the Sunshine of My Life, Superstition, I Believe (When I Fall In Love It Will Be Forever)

The next 10 (for those who care): ATLiens, OutKast; The Beatles (The White Album), The Beatles; Late Registration, Kanye West; Licensed to Ill, The Beastie Boys; The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill, Lauryn Hill; New Edition, New Edition; Only Built 4 Cuban Linx, Raekwon the Chef; Pisces, Aquarius, Capricorn & Jones Ltd., The Monkees; The Revival, Tony! Toni! Tone; Speakerboxx/The Love Below, OutKast.

oh, what a night (c) Missy

Last night was bananas.

The home team went out on the town to check out Cornel West and Tavis Smiley in Hollywood. The former was promoting his spoken word CD, Never Forget: A Journey of Revelations. It was a crowded but laid back club vibe, DJ Rashida killed the ones and twos. They played four tracks from the CD and Cornel West commented on each of them, some of his comments turned into mini-dissertations. The knowledge given out was totally appreciated and validated a lot of what I had been thinking.





Then, afterwards, I met David Ritz, author of a host of well-known black music biographies (most notably the one they used for the Ray Charles biopic, and of course, the book I've been obsessing over since high school: Divided Soul -- The Life of Marvin Gaye. I met Levar Burton, which was a trip because I was named after him. Those pics are on the MySpace page. Moms was a big fan of Roots when she was carrying your boy. Hence my middle name. I had an extra cool exchange with Anthony Mackie. Then, came this.





The zoom is ridic on the last one, fa sho, but it was kinda crowded getting to Dr. West and wifey did the best she could. Then, we sat and danced to the 80s and 90s jams and watched some of our hype peers do the Kid N' Play, the wop and the Roger Rabbit. (Amongst other classic moments.)

AND MY PISTONS JUST BEAT THE CELTICS IN BOSTON!!!! Just left a message regarding the game on Michael Bivins's MySpace page. We gangsta like that. They want to come up w/ some new East darlings every year. But we're the dudes. Just face it.

I'm going to have a podcast soon. Probably after the New Year. More details to come. I have the name and the basic concept. But I'll let you know the full, when I have the full.

The most beautifullest white woman of them all

Elizabeth Taylor has been on my mind the last couple days. It started when I was watching the DVD commentary of The Graduate the other day and Mike Nichols was talking about the experience of directing Taylor and Richard Burton in Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf, and what a contrast that film was stylistically to The Graduate, which he filmed the following year. (The fact that these were the first two films of Nichols's career speaks to what a beast he is -- and continues to be -- as a director, but I digress.)



So that got me thinking about Virginia Woolf and what a great film it is, and how long it's been since I've seen it, and what an impact it made on me when I first saw it in high school. (I really do need to cop it on DVD.) There is a scene in my romantic comedy, When It All Falls Down, that is seriously indebted to it. the main characters, Kenny and Jamilah, have recently broken up, and are bitter at one another, yet still, obviously in love. Kenny reveals an embarrassing secret about Jamilah to her family (in one of those moments where comedy segueways violently into drama) and one of Kenny's retorts, pulled directly from this movie (and Edward Albee's play) is, "And that, my friends, is how you play Hump the Hostess."



Sometimes I get fixated on people and they become omnipresent in my world until I stop thinking about them. My Netflix movies showed up Saturday, and one of hers was there -- The Sandpiper -- which I've never seen, but look forward to. A Place in the Sun, another tremendous influence on me in my film school days, played on Turner Classic the other night, and another of her films, Butterfield 8, (for which she won her first Oscar) comes on in about an hour.

Then, today comes this news item. Only Liz Taylor could do a show in the middle of the strike and get love from both sides. And man, her and James Earl Jones, on the same stage? Where was I at? It's not like I had $2500, but I'm saying.

We just don't have stars like her anymore. She matured from child star to ingenue to true actress (I could imagine cats was clowning when it was announced that she was going to play the frumpy, alcoholic, older Martha in Virginia Woolf. But she gained 35 pounds and came with it, to win her second Oscar.) Her 575 husbands, legendary glamorous gowns, tireless charity work for AIDS, and most of all, the amazing performances she gave in film after film (although it took me years to forgive that Cleopatra b.s.) Much respect.

As for me, I just got done watching the Patriots squeak by the Ravens in a heck of a game on Monday night. My Bengals are frazzled and stumbling as usual. It took my alma mater's upset of #2 West Virginia to make this a not as horrible football weekend.

The short script is just about done. I renamed it Parkside Boulevard, after a street not too far from my house. I grew up on Freeman Street, but hey, face it, Parkside Boulevard sounds better. I've got so many ideas for other stories, scripts, songs, etc. But with the day job and stuff, time is short. I just keeping jotting them down. They will come forth eventually.

Thanksgiving Eve report

I've had a GREAT four day weekend. The kind that makes it difficult to return to work, as I must tomorrow morning. Spent some quality time with the wife. Wrote a new short, 8 pages long, called Golden Street, an introduction to the TV pilot I'll be writing soon. My wife thinks it's hilarious. I'll do a few revisions and send it off to Rickie Castaneda of Storytime Entertainment who's helping me develop this idea. The plan is to film the short, write the pilot and make it a part of a package as a TV show once the strike ends, whenever that magical day should come.

It's basically a show about growing up in a neighborhood similar to mine in the 1980s. The short is pretty funny. It's loosely based on an old Intrepid piece I did, "The Five Week War," but also makes allusions to some of the show's main characters and potential episodes.

Of course, you'll get all the details as things progress. My Bengals made my day today, opening up the can of beat down I've been waiting on them to deliver all season on the Tennessee Titans 35-6. Both of my fantasy teams have Carson Palmer and Chad Johnson, so I should be sitting pretty this week. My nigga Killa Chad is a fool.



Had an interesting evening. Saw this abstract but ahead of it's time film on the Sundance Channel called Who Are You, Polly Magoo? It's a French film made by an American director, William Klein, about an American model who is the subject of a French TV documentary. It spoofs the modeling industry and has a lot to say about how insecure men try to tear down and objectify beautiful women. The director is played by the recently departed Phillipe Noiret, who film heads may know as Pablo Neruda in Il Postino or from his work in Cinema Paradiso. It was non-linear and confusing at times, like a lot of French New Wave films, but as I said, still enjoyable and worth repeated viewings.



The female lead, Dorothy McGowan, was a cutie pie in that anorexic model kinda way, and amazingly natural, considering that it was her first and only film performance. (Apparently, she quit modeling after the film's release and dropped out of public view.)



Anyways, I'm sitting here folding clothes and listening to the audio commentary for The Graduate with Mike Nichols and Steven Soderbergh. It's both intimidating and encouraging. Trying to immerse myself in a world of film has proven far more difficult than it was in film school. But what can you do?

Chrisette Michele is the truth!

It's not like I didn't know this. But last night's show at the Temple Bar confirmed it. First, a lovely opening set by Jean Baylor, formerly of Zhane.




And then, the truth. So personable and talented. Evidence the live footage:

Good Girl



Be OK



Speaking of R&B songstresses, Intrepid Media just published my review of Alicia Keys' latest album, As I Am. I'm 50-50 on it, check out the review for the details.

What's hood, y'all? A lot going on, as usual. Me and my homegirl Tab participated in the Walk for Lupus in Santa Monica. A lot of us were there reppin' in memory of J Dilla.







Otherwise, I'm about to start writing a TV pilot for Rickie Castaneda and still rewriting my novel, Somewhere Between Here and There. the writers' strike has kind of slowed down some of my submission momentum, but that's just giving me time to put some more clips in the chamber.

And, finally, a quick Marvin shoutout, because I haven't done it yet.

Photograph Smile

I don't even have a good excuse. As usual, I've been living, rewriting my novel, fighting the urge to just become a full-time couch potato when I'm not doing creative things. I've done a lot since the last entry and there's a lot I could tell you.

Instead I've come with a peace offering. Photos. Some of them, you may have seen before, but I'll try to keep it unprecedented.

First there was the free Common concert in Santa Monica I went to the day Finding Forever was released.



My feelings with this album fluctuate. (Basically I'm obsessed with "The People," "Southside," and "Black Maybe," am indifferent to most of the rest.) But I'm proud of Com and look forward to seeing him in American Gangster.

My glamorous life as a writer. Look at all the fun I'm having!

The infamous Questlove DJ set from a few weeks ago.



Some pics from my Mom's visit out here in June. The non-ghetto candy related pics, anyway. At our fave seafood spot in San Pedro, the 22nd Street Landing.


Man, everybody's trying to be my stepdad!


Moms trying to figure out how we lost out on our inheritance.


Moms is ill coming off that D-line, yo


Back in February, I did my first photo shoot (as a photographer) for a young shoe designer/model named Amanda Raye. Here's some of the best:


I always loved this one. I told her it would make a great album cover should she ever, you know, decide to become the new queen of r&b soul or something.





Hopefully that will keep you occupied until I hit you with the next stunner. It's been a busy year, and I think the best is yet to come.

Ghetto Candies, Vol. 1

My mom's visit to Los Angeles was therapeutic, I think, for us and for her. (She got to escape the T for a minute and I got to escape the j.o. Fair trade.) Holla @ me on Facebook if you trying to see all the pictures and stuff.

But I'd like to direct your attention to the San Pedro portion of our trip. The part when we went to go see this place.


Me and Tree had been there before, but stepping in was like a window into my childhood.


And it got me reminiscin' on the ghetto candies of 'hoodmas past. Like:



That's right. I come straight for the chest right out the gate. Never has fake citrus been so appreciated as when these ol' sour Lemon Heads hit the 'hood. I remember cats would get called stingy for like, half their childhood, if they had some of these on them and didn't share. (And you didn't want to get called stingy. It was like having leprosy.) I don't know why we was acting like times was so hard. The corner stores back in T-Town was charging like a quarter for these bad boys back in the '80s. They was straight golden, no pun intended.

The fundamental staple of any 'hood diet.

Plus, once you emptied the box, it made a nice harmonica.



Lemon Heads was the gateway "teeth rotter/on the way to diabetes already and a ni**a's only nine" candy. From the same evil monarchy that kept mad dentists in business came:






I almost fainted when I saw some of these candies, dog. Alexander the Grape? In the summer of '85, I saw Bill Armstrong get dropkicked in the larynx over some Alexander the Grape! Even now, as an adult, I considered holding the place up to get some Johnny Apple Treats. Boston Baked Beans was hit or miss. But I guess getting me to eat anything affliated with Boston while this guy was terrorizing my Bad Boys was akin to the Camp David Agreement.

You've gotta give it to those cutthroat capitalists over at Ferrara Pan. It was a nifty way to introduce kids to fruits without actually making want to eat actual fruits. Which leads me to my next ghetto candy:


Wrong wrong wrong wrong on so many levels. To my knowledge, there were two variations on this candy. There was the kind that was more prevalent in my hood, where it was a candy and the end of the tip was painted pink to suggest a lit cigarette. Then, there was the kind in San Pedro, which my wife said she grew up with.

1) Cigarette looking paper conceals the gum inside. Perfect for faux Don Johnson-look by Miami Vice watching nine-year-olds.

2) Blow the cigarette and real smoke comes out. Perfect for addicting small children to the real thing!

3) Peel off the paper and chew the gum inside. Fun for the whole family!

While we were talking about Philip Morris's feeder system, disguised as harmless childhood fun, my Mom told us that when she was a kid, they actually had the name of real cigarettes (Camel, etc.) on the candies. Where was the FDA when this was going on? They might've as well have just put real cigarettes in there, laced with cinnamon just to suck the kids in. Speaking of know better, do better:



I loved me some Cherry Sours, but damn. They might as well have just called 'em Jelly Junglebunnies and put Stepin' Fetchit on the cover. Got me looking at Ferrara Pan a little suspect.

Next time: The federal government introduces prostitution to the 'hood by releasing a candy called Sugar Daddy, Chick-O-Sticks as hide-and-go-get-it collateral, and the greatest 'hood candy of all time.