OH, THE THINGS YOU CAN DO WITH A NAKED HUMAN FACE!
(YET ANOTHER INSTALLMENT IN THE CONTINUING CINEMATIC ADVENTURES OF SKIPP & JAKE…NOW FROM A NEW LOCATION!)
By John Skipp
The whole of Los Angeles is shimmering tonight, from my new back patio on the top of Mt. Washington in Eagle Rock, CA.
The whole of downtown L.A. could be scooped up in my hand, that’s how eensy and toy-like it appears; and the infinite teeny-tiny sprawl that surrounds it looks very much, from here, like the world’s most elaborate train set.
(Which is, as it turns out, the legendary Orson Welles analogy for the process of filmmaking. So how appropriate is THAT?)
As it turns out, I shouldn’t be writing you an essay tonight, any more than I should be out on my back porch, smoking a cigarette (which I should also NOT BE SMOKING!).
Cuz the fact is, I’m still wrassling with my new film, JAKE’S WAKE.
Am, in fact, getting ready to shoot some additional footage. Most likely next week.
Every shot of which I need to plan out, very specifically.
Meanwhile, my editor – the very brilliant Damon Packard, whose wildly experimental mindwarp film REFLECTIONS OF EVIL was referred to by Henry Rollins as “fucking genius”, and I agree – is editing together the last two minutes of the film.
Orchestrating the climactic mayhem, using only the crazy shit already shot. Which is plenty.
It’s the opening, and midsection, that need more work.
‘Round about 6:00 this morning, Damon will be done, and he’ll drive up the hill, and show me what he’s got.
So basically, it’s gonna be a very long night.
But as the old joke goes…
“What? And give up SHOWBIZ?”
Basically, I’m doing triple-duty tonight (or quadruple, if you count just having gotten off work).
So why am I here?
Well, I LOVE YOU GUYS!
And I made a promise, to show up once every month.
Plus, it’s FUN!
But under the circumstances, I’m gonna hafta wrap up quick.
And see if I can pull double-duty on this column, as well.
———-
Here’s the facts: I shot a long, cool scene. Full of characters I dig, enacted by wonderful actors who brought them each to life.
We rehearsed it like a stage play, so everyone’s moves would be consistent and editable, FROM ANY ANGLE. And so the actors could fully inhabit their parts.
It was amazing. They were great. And the camera angles worked.
Then we cut it together.
And it took for-fucking-ever.
And then we realized that – for casual film-watchers – the scene went on FOR-FUCKING-EVER, TOO.
The thing about film is: a little dialogue, properly performed, goes a long long way.
Then you’re ready to cut to something else.
Film is an antsy medium. Never more so than now.
And the talking went on for 13 minutes, BEFORE A SINGLE PERSON GOT KILLED.
I’ve never seen 13 minutes take so long.
So we cut it back to 9-anna-half. And it was a massive improvement.
But you know what?
We’re still talking GLACIAL SLOWNESS.
I had 9-anna-half minutes of cool dialogue that sat there like a fucking lump, ever-so-gradually leading up to 2 minutes of frenetic, crazy-ass excitement.
As if anyone would actually sit through it, for the payoff.
Clearly, something major had to be done.
MAJOR FLASH NUMBER ONE:
I needed to put something devastating, RIGHT UP FRONT, so that
a) something devastating happens, RIGHT UP FRONT;
b) everything that happens afterwards has a time-bomb, ticking directly underneath it; and
c) stuff like that.
MAJOR FLASH NUMBER TWO:
I needed little inserts – character flashbacks, demonic faces, home-invasion footage moving in on the house where those nice people are talking – to underscore the ticking clock set up by the opening mayhem, and to pay off the CLOSING mayhem.
In essence, to string up a tightrope between.
MAJOR FLASH NUMBER THREE:
This will take more time.
And cost more money.
And be a whole lot more work.
MAJOR FLASH NUMBER FOUR:
So be it.
It’s my baby, so I work cheap.
Let’s just get what we need.
And keep the costs down…
———-
So tonight, I’m gonna focus on my new opening sequence.
And share with you, quickly, the challenges involved.
In a nutshell:
We open with a young, drunk rocker chick, getting banged from behind, in her boyfriend’s home. It’s a quickee, so she still has her clothes on: standing up, in front of a large TV screen.
On the screen is a spookily handsome, Robert DeNiro-esque small-town cable televangelist, delivering a sermon about life everlasting, through Jesus.
In a minute (almost precisely), her boyfriend is gonna descend a spiral staircase, and see the love of his life getting banged from behind.
He’s a tough, hard-rockin’, mohawked motherfucker who works concert security.
And he sees his girlfriend, who he loves.
And promptly bursts into tears.
And then he pulls out a butterfly knife, makes it whicker through the air as he makes his decision.
And then he finishes coming down the stairs, and starts stabbing the guy who’s fucking his girlfriend…
…who, as it turns out, as THE TELEVANGELIST ON THE SCREEN…
…who, as it turns out, is the titular Jake…
…and then some other stuff happens, which lights a fire under the footage already shot…
…and that’s all cool…
…and it will take, by my estimation, precisely 27 CAMERA SETUPS to make this all happen…
But here’s the thing I’d like to focus on, real quick, tonight. Before I sign off.
THE EXPRESSIONS ON THAT ROCKER GIRL’S FACE.
I’m about to audition a shitload of actresses. And here’s what I’m going to ask them to do.
I’m going to ask them to pretend that they’re being fucked by a corrupt, handsome, massively-charismatic small-town TV evangelist.
I’m going to put a camera right up in their face.
I’m going to ask them to BE THAT YOUNG WOMAN – with all of the guilt and lust and confused spiritual longing that might accompany such a profound, drunken moment – and let me catch every speck of that immensely complicated emotion, directly.
I am asking one hell of a lot.
I’m asking for naked response, on the level of Emily Watson in CHASING THE WAVES: a performance so pure and honestly uninhibited that it drops the jaw and sears the soul.
I will be casting her next week.
I bring this up because the performance that I will be asking of this actress – whoever she winds up being – is PRECISELY the level of performance I have to bring to the pre-visualization of this scene.
Then she and I – and the actor who’s pretending to bang her, and the actor who plays the guy who murders Jake, in this opening scene – have to DESCEND INTO THE MAELSTROM TOGETHER.
And I can’t fucking wait.
Somewhere in this tinker-toy city – or, as Dorothy Parker put it, “a thousand suburbs in search of a city” – there is a young woman who is going to kick the living shit out of this part.
Who will embody this series of resonant moments, while the camera lingers so long, and so intimately, on her face that it is almost excruciating.
I am fiercely proud of this woman, whoever she is. Because she is about to THROW DOWN.
What I ask of her is what I ask of myself, and any living artist who wants to make a mark on the world.
I’m asking her to give it up. To take off the leash. To unleash herself.
To get to the truth of the moment at hand.
That’s the shit that makes me proud.
So that’s my message for tonight:
LET YOUR NAKED FACE SHINE, all the way down to the soul.
As writers, you can do it at home, when nobody’s looking.
But when I gaze upon the page, that’s what I want to see.
Yer pal,
Skipp
P.S. – Damon just came up the hill, and showed me the ending. It’s amazing, HE’S amazing, and I think it fucking rocks.
Here’s to making glacial slowness a thing of the past!
And I wish you all a beautiful day.
Related posts:
- A Face by Any Other Name….
- TO THINE OWN NAKED ASS BE TRUE
- Other Worlds Part 3: Deus ex hominum (the god in the human)
- THOMAS SULLIVAN: KILLING FLEAS & THE FACE ON THE CUTTING ROOM FLOOR
- Evil Happy Smiley Face Man
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Comments
I’m still trying to decide if it would inspire arousal to watch that first scene, and if so, would it mean I’m a sickie?
All your hardass work is going to pay off, man.
For everyone! I just know it.
Way to rock the new year to its knees!
XOXO
Dear Dave — One of the conditions of the audition, of course, is that we would not EVER make that audition footage available.
But when we get the right gal, she’s gonna carve herself a little slice of horror film history.
THANK YOU, SIR! Jake tips you one back!
Dear Teighlor Darr — Thanks! I LOVE YOU, TOO!!!
Yer pal,
Skipp
Dear Skipp —
I put a towel around my head, babushka style, and beat my eyelashes in the mirror, but I don’t think I’ll be at the cattle call. Drag just isn’t my thing, so there’s no use trying to fool you. Put me down for some other…er, part.
– Sully (Thomas Sullivan)
Dear Sully –
You know who used to use the towel trick, and whole batting-the-eyelash thing, to great effect?
No less than one of my heroes: BUGS BUNNY!
If he were only alive today…
Yer pal,
Skipp
Bugs dead? Damn that Elmer Fudd. Ah, well, he couldn’t keep hitting the landscape with his shotgun blasts forever. But I wish u could’ve broken this to me gently.
– Sully
Dear Sully –
I kind of feel like ALL the Warner Bros. characters started dying somewhere in the 1950’s, and became automatons when they showed up on TV.
Like, the Daffy Duck I LOVE is the crazy bastard that bounced off walls, not the greedy prick that — to my eternal heartbreak — most people know him as.
The lobotomists have been much kinder to Bugs.
But then I watched the FAMILY GUY movie.
And…gulp…I watched Elmer drag his blood-drenched carcass out.
Nobody played “Taps”.
But my SOUL sure did!
Yer pal,
Skipp
Hey, Skipp, could you please do one of these
a week? Your monthly contribution is the best
possible shot in the arm for this little old cartoon
character. Climbing on a chair to hug you. — Janet
Sully, I think you could play that girl. I really do. You need to stop selling yourself short, buddy.
Good as usual, Skipper. Especially liked your chatter about that looooonnnnnng scene that was glacially slow even when you trimmed it by three or four minutes. That’s just the way it is when you write. One of my friends calls it “talking heads” whenever I do it.
Dear Janet — CLIMB DOWN OFF THAT CHAIR, would’ja? I can hug you from here! See?
MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I can’t tell you how happy it makes me that my little travelogues make you happy!
Dear John — Talking heads, indeed. Talkity talkity talkity.
And, again: the actors are wonderful, Laura Bahr writes wonderful dialogue (and I ain’t all that bad, neither!), and I love the way it’s shot.
Taken individually, I love every single shot.
It’s just when you line ‘em all up in a row that I go, “Shit, that’s a WHOLE LOTTA STUFF!”
But we live and we learn. At least that’s the theory!
Now I’ve got a meeting with my production partners in less than an hour, and I think I should gussy myself up a little!
TALK WITH YOU SOON, KIDS!
Yer happy pal,
Skipp
Hi,
As the line goes, “You had me at hello.” This was fascinating from the first set of paragraphs. Thanks!
George
Dear George –
Wow! THANK YOU SO MUCH! And you’re welcome!
Yer pal,
Skipp
P.S. — Yesterday, I confabbed and scheduled with my production partners. We went over the amazing (largely Eagle Rock) locations. Got everyone happily on the same page.
Then Steve “Jake” Walter and I met with Dierdre Lyons, the first of our new Demons. She’s amazing, in ways that remind me of the great Mary Woronov, and instantly set the gold standard for excellence in our alarming new quest for extradimensional terror.
Meanwhile, the very brilliant novelist and pistol-packin’ psychopath-playin’ Cody Goodfellow will be driving up from San Diego, for EXACTLY ONE EXTREME CLOSEUP SHOT, and a little voice work besides.
My director of photography comes to location on Monday, and we go over things, shot-for-shot.
Auditions are Friday, for the rest of the parts.
And then there’s there’s just everything else.
Suddenly, after the holiday/home relocation lull, things are HEATIN’ BACK UP IN JAKEVILLE!
Tell you what: I’ll keep posting updates here for the next week or two, if you want!
Yer pal,
Skipp
Dear gang –
Today was audition day.
And did we find what we were looking for?
Oh yes indeed, we did.
I gotta admit: I was trepeditious, with regards to auditioning the role of “Sugar” in the manner described in my essay. It’s one thing to know what you want; it’s another to ask total strangers to go there with you.
Especially when they’re the only woman in a room with three men and a camera, IN FUCKING HOLLYWOOD — the casting couch capital of the world — where every sleazy manuever in the world is not only possible, but almost expected.
Fortunately, my production partner/star, Stephen “Jake” Walter, understood the process implicitely. He’s an actor/producer, so he knows the game from both sides. And knew precisely how the game ought to be played.
So as the actresses came in — one at a time, throughout the course of the day — we introduced ourselves. Were friendly and fun. Thanked them for coming. Chit-chatted a bit.
Then we had them slate themselves: saying their name, and phone number, into the digital camera.
Then we had them do whatever monologue they had come prepared with — I asked for something emotional, that brought them to tears, because raw raw raw emotion was what we needed to see — and had them play that to the camera.
Then I explained the part they were coming to play — laid out the dynamics underlying this drunk rocker chick, getting banged by a preacher, in her boyfriend’s room, hoping to hell he didn’t come home, and flooded with lust and regret and a deep spiritual longing that spoke to THIS MOMENT, in which they were doing something that they knew they shouldn’t be doing, but were all the way in it nonetheless.
I also explained that they didn’t have to take their clothes off. Nor would they have to, in the course of shooting the actual scene.
What I wanted was their face.
Their very naked face.
Not a lot of dialogue, but a WHOLE LOT OF ACTING.
And then Steve said, “Here’s how we’ll do it.
“I’m gonna stand behind you, and put your hands on your lower back. And I’m gonna move you back and forth.
“You stare at a space just above the camera, where the wide-screen TV will be.
“If you’re uncomfortable, let me know.
“If there’s anything we can do to make you MORE comfortable, let us know.”
Then I said, “What we want is to see your soul. Take this woman, and BE her. Okay?”
And to a woman, they said yes.
I saw some amazing, couragous performances today. Every one of them was talented. Every one of them bared something intimate, and unique unto themselves.
I was, and am, in awe of them all.
But in the end, there could be only one.
The woman we chose is named Cheryl Lyonne. She is very beautiful, and FEROCIOUSLY sexy. But that ain’t all.
She is fucking intense.
And her waters run deep.
I almost wish you guys could see her audition tape…though, as it turns out, it’s pretty clear that what she gave us was a PRE-GAME WARMUP to what we’ll actually catch in the film.
Let’s just say that — all of a sudden — I feel REALLY GOOD about the first minute and a half of JAKE’S WAKE, now that young Cheryl Lyonne is on board.
And as an extra added bonus, we’ve got two great Frankies to choose from (Frankie is the guy who kills Jake).
And young Cyanne McClairian barely needed to speak before we cast her as Demon # 2. She’s like a delightful 15th century wood carving of a nature spirit, come to life. And her sinister crazy-ass laugh is INSANE!
All in all, a very beautiful day.
Now it’s time to go SHOOT THIS SHIT!!!
Will keep you posted. Thanks for checking in!
Yer happy pal,
Skipp
Dear kids –
I have just cast Ursula Vari — a breathtaking Transylvanian gypsy and one hell of a smart, cool gal — to play Demon #3. We sat down, had a bowl of lentil soup, talked story for half an hour, and that was that.
SOLD!
Now that I’ve got my demons, I’ve got everything I need but a final decision on Frankie. That will happen tomorrow, along with Demon hair and wardrobe choices.
Come Saturday, there will be blood, meat, sex, death, crying, Jesus, and MUCH MUCH MORE up on ol’ Mt. Washington!
JAKE’S WAKE, BABY!
It’s horror movie time!
Yer pal,
Skipp
Speed isn’t everything
I’m thinking you could end up with the footage to make one hellaciously hot music video when you’ve captured those auditions…seriously.
Sounds like the incredible experience continues…tonight, I tip one to ol’ Jake.
DNW