Tag: James Franco

Categories
Death

LOUD AND DIM

Gary Winick (Tadpole 2002) died.  He was 49-years-old.

Gary once introduced me to Mark Ruffalo.  Mark wouldn’t remember me, Gary would.

Gary was one of the forward thinking guys who set up the ground breaking film production company InDigEnt.  He was a really, really sweet man.  No news as to how he died but I think, from what I can remember, he may have had a serious illness that he kept quiet about.

He was very discreet.

Crikey, so many deaths!  I just diligently report them.  It’s rewarding to find something nice to say about the recently departed like poor Wally in Whitstable.

In Jean’s case, it was quite hard.  We hadn’t spoken for ages because we had a money issue that neither of us wanted to resolve.  He was a terrible drain on his friends and family.  Let’s put it this way: it was very hard for Jean to enjoy his gifted life without endlessly complaining or taking drugs.

People die.  I just put on my bombazine shift and write the bleeding obituary.

Perhaps I should try writing my own?

I would entitle it:  WEAK TEA  or  LOUD AND DIM or NOTHING REMARKABLE.

To be run in the Whitstable Times in the event of my death:

Surly Duncan Roy (65) found dead in his Swalecliffe bed sitting room.  Former Lord of The Lies refused medication for obvious mental illness and made unremarkable films.   Campaigned for the Red Spider Cafe.  He will not be missed.

I have not written a last will and testament so the fuckers can squabble over what is left.   I may leave it all to that little girl or to a bat charity or Jake’s ex-girl friend.  That would be funny.

Watched Oscars.  Was James Franco stoned?  No!  He’s been sober for YEARS.  He just looked a bit unprepared.  I would have preferred if Social Network had won best film.  It deserved to.  The Kings Speech is constipated TV tosh.   Tom Hooper is a director of no importance.  Why does Colin Firth KEEP telling the world how important Tom Ford is to him and how he wouldn’t be receiving these awards without having met him?  I thought that Firth had a rather long and distinguished career before meeting Ford?  Are they or have they been…fucking?

It occurred to me why Portman trumped Benning…Portman has more mileage in her and will generate more cash for CAA.  Poor Annette Bening so obviously deserved that Best Actress Academy Award but she’s an old mare and who writes great roles for old mares that Meryl Streep isn’t getting first refusal?

Clip Clop Annette.

Categories
Gay Hollywood

Marilyn Manson

Spent yesterday mostly at home or at Mud Cafe on 9th Street writing.  Writing the film I intend to shoot this spring.  It occurs to me that this film may very well be the one I shoot in Whitstable.  It needs sharpening but JA has done a great job so far interpreting and formalizing my haphazard idea.

The story remains compelling and moving.

The other darker story is easy to write.  Less conventional, more emotional.

Decided not to go to gay club down town with Federico last night but am enjoying the prospect of exploring gay New York once again.  Who would have guessed?

Watched The Golden Globes, James (Franco) up for a well deserved Globe.  Pity he didn’t get it…tough competition amongst the boys this year.

So pleased for everyone involved with The Kid’s Are All Right.   Annette especially..her performance was stunning.  Warren must be so proud.  Now, they have a complex relationship.  Lovely seeing the gorgeous Mark Ruffalo…even the ghastly Celine Rattray.  Their film truly deserved the attention.

My friend Atticus Ross won Best Score for Social Network.

How galling must it be for Hugh D’Ancy to see his madly successful wife get the awards when he is largely overlooked?

Fascinating to see Mark Walberg in his capacity as both actor and producer, excelling at both.

Dropped out of the Globes to join Federico at The Hendershot Gallery on Chrystie.  A group show including the work of Marilyn Manson.  Manson’s work was the least interesting and most undeserving of a place in the gallery.

[wpvideo dngrnm1P]

Galia Offri, on the other hand, is well worth looking at.  Interesting composition, palate and by far the most collectible…although I really liked the pile of pillows in the basement by a young gay artist called Leor Grady.

Galia Offri No Need to Worry

After a few months of never being recognized three people approached me…much to Federico’s amusement.  I must have looked like Duncan Roy…that guy on the TV.

Anyway, chipped and saw last of the Globes with my friend Chris.  We sat curled up in front of a small TV.

Ricky Gervais is just not that funny.  Shocking…yes.  Dry…yes.  To be rehired…yes.

Yet again I was surprised by just how many people I knew all dressed up on TV and wondered if I would ever make another film and if so…would it be recognized.

Maybe not.

New York is very cold.  Very.

Categories
Dogs

Oscar Day 2010-Academy Awards

 

For those of us who live in this part of Hollywood the Security around the highly anticipated Oscar Award Ceremony can be a big pain in the ass, at least for the one day of the ceremony.

 

I live exactly two minutes walk from the Kodak Theatre in the very heart of Hollywood.   Franklin Avenue, where I live,  has been completely closed and all the cars that were inadvertently left after the 6am deadline have been towed. More money for the city of Los Angeles.

 

Swarms of security guards patrol the streets, armed police with vicious dogs hang out in ominous gaggles, guards check under cars with mirrors on sticks, concrete road blocks hamper normal journeys in and out of our neighborhood and for one day only we get to feel what they must feel in Baghdad every day.

 

 

 

 

I had a huge dream last night.  Kay S, Amanda E, three other unknown women and I were descending a steep mountainside. Lil dog had transformed into a waist high dog/goat, his soft ears all leathery like a goat, his soft coat transformed into wiry fur.   I knew that we were facing something treacherous at the bottom of the mountain and as with all of my bad dreams the light was eerie like during an eclipse.  I woke up exhausted.

 

 

 

 

 

My Scar

When I last saw my therapist she asked if I thought I might be depressed.   I could tell immediately that I might get all sorts of expensive medical attention if I said yes.  I gleefully imagined a warm hospital bed somewhere.  My favorite.

 

 

 

I remembered the terrible car accident that my family were involved in when I was a small boy, remembering the moment that I was thrown off of my mother’s lap, out of the warm car and through the front passenger window and into the cold rain and the wet grass.  I remember my aunts bleeding legs, I remember the ambulance, the hospital where I would stay for a very long time as my head repaired.  I still have a huge scar that when I have very short hair everyone comments on.

 

 

 

 

When I write the word family I wonder whom I could possibly mean?  Does that word apply to me?


 

I am sitting outside the supermarket Fresh and Easy waiting for the store to open.  It is 8am, an endless stream of determined Academy Award production crew pass by me, their scripts in their back pockets. They are all dressed in black so they can vanish amongst the stars.   They are the night.

 

 

 

 

I feel like I have been fast asleep.  I wonder if it is worth waking up?