On set and depressed about it...

Okay, so maybe I'm not that depressed.  We've only been in Vancouver for nine days so there's little chance that 'seasonal affect disorder' has kicked in that quick.  We've seen the sun for ten minutes of those nine days, so on the other hand...

That first shot you're looking at has my senior editor in the foreground, my DP in the mid-ground, and one of my hosts in the background--seated.  I'm way at the other end of the B.C Lions (Vancouver's pro football club) locker room (about a hundred feet back) with my telephoto lens braced on a garbage can, shooting without a flash.

A little closer now, my DP (Lindsay George) is tweaking the camera because it's sitting on a sixteen foot section of cam-cat dolly track and the center piece was wobbling a bit.  The laundry bin behind her is raised up a foot and a half off the ground so it'll look good in the shot.  The lockers in the background were dressed by us as it's 'off season' right now so when we arrived everything was empty.
Then Russell Greene (Senior Editor) took my camera and snapped this as I was working with Mark Washington (the host) on his next standup.  The funny thing about the stand-ups is that I write them, sometimes weeks, before we shoot and often under extreme time pressure so I don't typically remember what the heck I wrote.  So I'll take a look, read it over for Mark, and often comment that THAT is one smokin' hot monologue.

My crew will look at me and laugh, 'cause I really shouldn't be giving myself unsolicited props like that.

But the thing is, I really am seeing the content as if it's for the first time.

And that's a point worth making for you.

Whatever is it that you do, so long as you maintain a sense of newness in your approach--meaning it seems fresh and cool to you every time you come back to it--chances are you'll be able to keep doing that thing you do at an increasingly high level for so long as you stay enmeshed in that field.

It was like that for me when I was a Church Planter/Preacher.  Every Sunday was a high.  I looked forward to Sunday all week.  I loved every minute of the service on a good night and most of it on an off one.  Not surprisingly, the 'Sunday Experience' was the highlight of my Church's life during my tenure (and there were other spots that weren't as strong as they shouldn't been because I was less turned on about them and therefore less focused on making them great...).  

Same deal with directing on-set, or hosting, or doing a one-on-one interview for me.  I love every minute of it.  Sure it gets stressful and pressure-packed.  Don't matter none.  All these years later--with the accumulated many hundreds of hours on-set I've wracked up--I still get a 'buzz' off of being in a space that's been turned into something worth watching.

I love tweaking the lighting and setting up the shots.  I love working with actors or being one myself.  I love makeup and costume and blocking and verbally jousting with the boom op and waiting in line for lunch.  

I love it.

And that's why it works.

In all my years doing what I do, the 'love' of a thing is the most consistently glaring absence I find in the lives of people who are less than thrilled with their lot.  And on the flip side, someone who clearly 'loves' what they do almost always rises to the top and, regardless of how high-up in the grand scheme of things their 'top' is, they're almost always deeply contented with their lot.

I can't say it enough.  You must fall in love and stay in love with what you've been called to do and you must keep doing that thing, regardless of the cost.

The other option is seasonal affect disorder all year round, in the sunshine or in the fog and, let's face it, nobody really wants to be S.A.D.

T

As long as you've got a kitchen...

(wasn't inspired to blog today, then I saw that I've added new readers in South America and Europe so I thought I'd do it for them...)

Life is pretty simple, right?

You need clothes 'cause unless it's 'time', it's usually good to have your naked body covered to say nothing of the fact that's it's minus 21 degrees in our home town right now.

(nine degrees in Vancouver though...)

You also need somewhere to sleep where, ideally, it's not going to snow or rain on your head. So, typically a roof over the head is a nice thing.  If you have a roof that's going to stay the same for a while, meaning you don't have to move too often, all the better.

And, under that roof, you need to have some way to cook things and something to cook.

You got those covered, chances are, you can build a life.

Same thing with a Church and/or a TV show or a movie.

With a Church, you got to be able to give your people an 'experience' of worship that reminds them that God is alive.  Week in and week out, if you do more than a 'sing song' you'll probably be okay.  Add to that a kids program that's actually fun for the kids in your community so that they don't give their parents a hard time every Sunday when it's time to go to Church and you'll find that your Church probably grows.  And if you actually preach the simple truth with passion and conviction and honesty...

Well then, you can build a Church.

With a TV show it's all about consistently delivering something people want.  A show that takes them away for a half hour or an hour and puts them somewhere (in their heart and mind) 'other' that's nicer, or better, or more interesting, or moving than their normal.  With TV it's all about the 'grind'--being able to churn out episode after episode of 'goodness' on-time, on-budget through working with talented people who've bought into a vision (usually yours) that's got legs.  If you can rise to that challenge...

Well then, you can build a TV series.

With a movie it's all about story at first.  A story that moves, that captivates, that takes you away to a place you want to see brought to life for the screen so that it will connect to the lives of millions of people.  Once you get the story it's all about assembly.  Assembling the money and the people (who get paid with that money...) to turn the thing into reality.  Then it's about being able to do it--being able to work your ass to the bone until it's done.  Then it's about getting the thing to market and stewarding the thing, for seven years or so.  If you're man enough for that...

Well then, you can make yourself a movie.

See, it's not 'complicated'.  A Church needs the power of the Gospel alive in it.  A TV series needs to be comfy like an old sweater.  A movie needs to move.

And a life needs a kitchen.

Do you have what you need?

('cause until you do, chances are, you're just running in circles...)

T

by increments...

Okay, so that's me (yes, it's my blog and I can cry if I want to...) on-set tonight, directing one of my shows.

My senior editor took the shot just as we were starting to roll.

The black thing in the right side of the frame is one of five monitors I'm working with.  The room around me has about twenty people in it.

The studio we're shooting in is 'our' studio.

Yes, we're behind, but not so far behind that I need to kill myself (just yet) and not far enough that I haven't experienced something like it (or worse) before.

All that to say this.

I'm making a little bit of progress.

And for you that means:

1) If you keep at it (whatever 'it' is in your life) you'll eventually start getting better at it and having more success.

If you're not, you might be doing the wrong thing.

2) Life can be nice in the midst of the nasty if you take a second to recognize it.

A film set is not the World's most serene place but if you have the inner sense that it's going to be okay, a sense born of experience and rooted in mercy, you can enjoy even the ups and downs of a high pressure life or situation.

And for many (many) years there was much less 'nice' in my nasty and if and as things got better they only got a little bit better one small step at a time.

So try not to assess your life all at once.  If you take a snapshot of any given moment in time, chances are the picutre's going to look bleak, because you won't notice the little changes that are piling up all the time as you keep moving forward.

It may only be after years and years of living through a fairly intense journey that you begin to notice that it's a little easier than before.

You'll notice that it's getting better.

By increments.

T

picture and sound...

It's just a picture...

But if you could add a story to it, and dramatize that story in a screenplay, and shoot that screenplay with actors on a set, then add sound and music and visual effects to it.

Well then...

You'd have yourself a movie.

I'm writing 25 shows to be shot Sunday/Monday and, on top of that, I have to host a national prime time TV special tomorrow morning and, on top of that, I'm starting to work on setting up a feature-film in between writing breaks AND workshopping ideas for a new TV series at the same time.

This is what I do.

And this is what I'm listening to, today/tonight, as I do it:

Iona's  'Woven Chord'.  

Nine Inch Nails' 'Year Zero'.

and...

Handel's Messiah.

I think Lupe will be next.

'Cause you need a picture (which I've got in my head as I write) and sound.

The rest is detail.

(like the small detail that I've been sitting in this chair for ten straight hours now...)

And if you love hip hop you gotta' peep this.

T

Benjamin Button, Vancity, and risking it all...

So first, lemme' just say, that 'The Curious Case of Benjamin Button' is exquisite.  Yes, you heard me, absolutely, totally...

Exquisite.

I was transported, absorbed, inspired, moved, and challenged to be a better man.  

That's always the highest praise I can give when it comes to ranking a movie's affect on me--does it, or does it not, inspire me to be a better man.

BB did.

So well done Mr. Fincher and Mr. Pitt and Ms. Blanchett and Swinton and the writers, producers, and crew.  Nicely done.  

Inspired me again re: making sure I get to make more movies.

And here I am, speaking of making movies in H'wood(North), back in Vancity, with my wife and babies, staying here...

And the funny thing about it is that, nice as our house is, and it's pretty nice--almost humblingly so--we had a hard time sleeping last night because we felt displaced and lonely.  

My wife had a hard time leaving yesterday.  Bad enough that our next door neighbors kept their two kids home from school to say goodbye and that you could hear them sobbing from down the block as we pulled away, but my brother and his wife and kids decided they'd come to the airport to see us off.

And then their littlest son collapsed on the ground in tears and wailing as we left them at security.  Not a good scene.

So Niki didn't sleep last night, worried about all the people whose lives she's ruining.

Neighbors, Mother, kids, her own...

Then we got to talking it through this morning and here's where we ended up:

Most people (or at least 'many'...) don't ever leave their 'normal' because they end up feeling the way we're feeling.  Feeling displaced, or suffering dislocation, is so hard in the initial stages that we do almost anything to avoid it.  We live in such a way that our day to day life is as normal and expected as possible because that way of living is comfortable, contained, expected, and known.

Once you leave your 'normal' you invite insecurity into your life.

(will we meet friends?  where will we buy groceries?  will the kids like it?  will anyone come see us?  where do you get good coffee?  what's a nice afternoon drive?  can we get ice cream somewhere?  what do you do on the weekend?  is there a mall nearby in case we need to go to American Eagle?)

And facing, and conquering, insecurity is a very tough thing to do.

I requires you to stretch.

Like working out.  You stretch--break down--a muscle in order to make it stronger.

And we realized that many people never 'work out' the borders of their life for the same reason(s) they never 'work out' their bodies.

Because it hurts.

But, it occurred to us as we were showering, if you never force yourself to stretch, if you live your life within a comfortable, normal, zone you end up never achieving the kind of wisdom, or depth that only comes from suffering the stretch.

And, if you're someone who's trying to live for more than just a paycheck, if you're trying to make some kind of 'contribution' to the World around you, if you're leveraging the way you spend the hours of your life to try and make a (positive) impact on the people around you, if you never become a person wiser and richer for the stretching and the suffering you end up short-changing the World.

That's right.

Unless you suffer and stretch you can't give as much back to those you love, those you meet and those you never know that you impact.

You can't really be 'great' at life if you've never suffered, or feared, or lost, or stretched.

So, from this lonely father and his wife to you, here's our vote for stretching this year.

If you're feeling a 'call' to move beyond your 'normal' we suggest you do it.  You, those you love, and the very World you inhabit will be the better for it.

You'll preach better sermons.  You'll make better movies.  You'll build a career that matters and your kids will be proud to call you 'Dad'/'Mom'.

T

I feel a movie coming on...

Bit of a weird/difficult night tonight.

I was supposed to drum for my brother while he led worship at the Church my wife and I planted eight years ago today.  Never mind that I haven't touched a drum set in two years, my brother's back from Israel for a stint, and he asked.

So I said yes.

I arrived outside the Church and prayed silently--real quick--asking for the experience to be a positive one, then I walked in.

Instantly, I felt conflicted.  It's strange to 'belong' somewhere almost completely and yet not belong at all.  The number of hours I spent in that space, the amount of energy and focus expended to create something in that space for the sake of the people who filled it, well, neither can be counted.

It was difficult, walking up.

Then I found out they didn't have my cymbals.

That's right, 'my' cymbals.  Mine because I bought them and left them there, three years ago, after I finished drumming for the last time.  I remember that I almost took them--I had bought them with my own, personal, money after all--but decided at the last second to leave them for the 'next' drummer to sit down in my baby Church and kick it.

So when I found out the cymbals weren't there I started to feel sick.

My brother arrived and asked around a bit, hoping that some of the 'young folk' (University students) might show some moxy and find us some cymbals.  Fifteen minutes later and no cymbals in sight, I hugged my brother and left.

Drove home.  Called my wife.  Felt a bit sad...

(and here's where we turn the corner) 

And decided to take this 'moment' as a lesson, as an opportunity to grow, to trust, to believe.

Believe that God was working things together for good for all those involved.

It's tough sometimes, making that decision.

Anyway, I made it and went about the rest of my night, then a few minutes ago my brother called.  Told me he'd reminded the Church it was their eight year anniversary.  Told me they'd been happy to be reminded of that.  Told me they responded really well to his leading them in worship.  Thanked me for making the 'fruitless' drive.

And I walked downstairs, raised a glass with my wife, and clinked to a Church that's still going, eight years later.

That's a good thing.

And now, for the 'movie' part of this post.

The above shot is the first storyboard from the pre-viz work we did for my first film, 'THE STORM'.  I retired from my Church, three years ago tonight, to take the leap into spending my focus and time doing my work as a communicator in show business.  I retired Jan 2006 and spent Feb/Mar 2006 directing that first wee film.

That storyboard never got shot, but the film still starts with 'tNtFILMS presents...' and where once there was only an idea, today there's a completed film and a contract that's in-process that I can't talk about just yet but should be able to within the month.

Once an idea, today a Church.  Once an idea, now a film.

And I feel another one coming on.

No, not a Church.  A movie.

I've got the 'itch'.  You know, that thing that starts to bug you that you can neither control nor arrest.  That urge to work for two or three years to bring a thing to life that will hopefully connect with and inspire a large group of people.

The urge to make a movie.

I think this will be the year we set the next one up.

I'm looking forward to it.

'Cause even though you sometimes drive downtown to drum for nothing or create a storyboard and a shot list for nothing or spend what feels like a useless season pursuing a dream that doesn't come true...

It's never for nothing.

T

The year that was and the the year that will be...

So happy new year friends.

Hope you had a wonderful go of it night before last and that you're looking forward to what's in store with the 363 days that remain ahead of us.

I spent some time New Years day going through my photos from 2008 trying to find some that encapsulated the year that was and the year that I hope will be.

Here's the first one...

You're looking at the wreckage of episodes 1-20.  One of the two TV series I ended up producing in 2008 was a five-days-a-week show which meant that I (we) had to produce 260 episodes.

Two hundred and sixty.

Not done yet either.  The contract will run out in May, but it feels like 2008 was the year of 260.  On top of that I had another 104 half hours to deliver on our second series.  So that's, what, three hundred and sixty four half hours of original television to be produced.

Getting the first twenty shows done was a near death experience.  It's always like that, getting started.  You're figuring everything out from scratch and it takes five times longer than you expected and half way through you start wishing you were...

 

Here

That's right.  At the beach, in the water with my babies, getting ready to catch a wave.

So here's the thing.  

You can't get there (the beach) without going through here (the editing maelstrom).  That's the way it is with show biz and that's the way it is with life.  But you mustn't think of it in terms of 'suffering' so that you can 'play'.

'Cause that way you're hating your work, counting the hours 'till you're 'free' and that's no way to live now is it?

So the thing that hit me as I was pulling the photos was this.

I love editing, and though I find the 'right in the midst of it' as tough as the next person, once I'm clear of it and the end-product is doing what I'd hoped it'd do and is building career momentum I feel almost totally good about it.  And if I allow myself a moment to be totally objective and honest I can say that I love my job, even the maelstrom-ey parts of it.

And I love the beach, and I love my babies.

So I'm happy to keep fighting my way through (and a fight it is bound to be) and while I fight I am determined to enjoy both the fight and the promise of fun in the midst of and on the other side of the fight.

Like today--I was working on our 2009-2010 budget--and though said budget is FORTY TIMES the budget we were wrestling with when we first started out, we are still having to wrestle with it.  Strange right?  'Cause we always think we're going to 'arrive' and not have to fight or wrestle or stress or persevere.

My business partner likes to remind me of a scene in the special features to 'Pirates of the Caribbean II' where the principals (Producer, Director, etc...) were pacing a rooftop on-location facing the impossible task of cutting twenty five million dollars from their budget.

Can you imagine?

One of the biggest film franchises in history and they're having the WRESTLE with the budget.

"Yeah hi.  This is Mark at the studio.  I just talked to Barry and he needs you to cut twenty five.  No.  Million.  Twenty five million.  We need the revised budget Monday."

--Click--

The struggle never goes.

So you might as well learn to love the struggle and be sure to truly relish those moments in the waves when they come 'cause you couldn't afford to take your babies to the waves if it weren't for the struggle and the struggle's not going anywhere but, luckily, neither is the ocean.

It's hard and it's lovely this thing called life.

So buck up (Todd, and all my friendly readers...) and keep at it and enjoy it 'cause this is as good as it gets.

Here's to 2009!

T