Eyes open...

I often refer to the idea of living with your eyes (and heart, soul, mind) wide open so that you'll 'catch' those moments in life that are worth noting, storing away, and using--sometime in the future--in one of your sermons or stories.

The parking lot you're looking at is across the street from the hotel I typically stay at when I'm shooting in Vancouver.  I was working late one night and noticed how cool the thing looked all empty and glowing blue in the dark.

I thought it'd be awesome to film a chase in with somebody running for their life.  You could mount the camera outside and film the various levels at once.  We--the audience--would know how close the character was to getting caught 'cause we'd see where her pursuers were even though she couldn't.  Then, when we cut into the space with her, we'd have the delicious double pleasure of fearing for her and with her 'cause we'd be trying to figure out where we (now that we were with her) were in relation to the 'baddies' we'd just seen when our perspective was on the outside.

I took the shot so that I could use it as a reference in the future.

What's interesting about that--taking a shot and storing it away--is the faith that's implied by the act.  My actions (stopping, noticing, thinking, grabbing camera and shooting, storing) demonstrate that I believe (hope) that at some point in the future the shot and the idea behind it are going to prove useful, worthwhile, or fruitful.

In my case--and with this example--that means I actually believe I'll be making a twenty million dollar movie some day that will allow me to see my 'vision' realized through the lives, work, creativity and follow through of a team of technicians, artists, crafts people, executives and--ultimately--viewers.

Crazy right?

Good crazy.

The kind of crazy we all need to be building our lives on if we hope to live a life that's something more than mundane.

What crazy thing are you planning for?

T

Our studio...

That's me, at my desk in our studio (it's a piece of butcher block countertop that I quite like with IKEA desk legs screwed to it) with some of our new art on the wall behind me.  Close up, they look like this...
And this...
And this.
The artist's name is Reine, you can find out more about her here.

Reason I'm blogging on this is twofold.

First I'm amazed and humbled at how nicely our little studio in downtown Vancouver is turning out.  What started as a big white space with too many walls and no 'vibe' to it (I think it was a carpentry shop) has now been turned into (through the efforts of our fantastic staff) an authentic 'black box' studio that's suitable for small television production, small commercial and music video production, small corporate video, and photography work.

To say nothing of the fact that it's also our post-production hub with space for our editors (six of 'em now...) to do their thing.

It's pretty cool.

One of the reasons it's cool (and why I'm so humbled by it all...) is that it's not that long ago that we were a million miles away from having a space like this.  Truth is, we've never had our 'own' space.  We've always thought the day might come and now that it's here, albeit in a very small and simple way, it feels both comfortable (because we've pictured it for so long) and strange because we still feel like this couldn't be.

Which leads to the second reason for today's post.

My family (Mom and Dad are visiting, and Niki brought the kids...) came by the studio today and they were totally impressed with it.  Dad reminded me how faithful the Lord has been to lead us through from two years of 'income free' living (oh sweet baby Jesus...) to this, our own very cool, very chique space right in the heart of Yaletown, Vancouver's coolest neighborhood.  "And..." he continued "Ten years from now, this'll seem like small potatoes to you--you'll see."

Nice of him to say it.  Cool to be able to hear it.  Fantastically strange to be living it.

What's downright scary and glorious about it all is how deeply I've longed for something like this and for how long.  Since my start in show business, nearly sixteen years ago now, I've dreamed of having something like this to work with and in, and from which to deploy a team of talented people to render redemptive story on-screen.

Sixteen years later and we're here.

Naturally, 'here' isn't 'there' which is why I don't feel and would never say that we've 'arrived', it's just a very nice point to have reached along the way.

I really do feel like we're slowly (and in a very small way) becoming one of those examples of people who keep at it and keep at it and keep at it long enough that--eventually--you start making some headway.

So posting to bear witness to some goodness in my life today and to confess I'm deeply moved and humbled by it all and to remind you that this same kind of small progress is probably happening in your life as well as you continue to trudge along pursuing your life less ordinary.

I hope you have a chance to notice the incremental growth and goodness that's happening in your life.  There's a good chance signs of it (growth) are hanging all around you...

Like art.

T

The New President...

Quite the moment just now.  The 44th President of The United States has just been inaugurated.  I cried my way through it, see?

I found (as you might expect) the invocation and benediction to be especially lovely.  President Obama spoke really well--as if you need me to tell you, I'm sure you saw it yourself.

My youngest daughter, Zoe, kept pointing at the screen and saying "Ohm-ba-baah".

Ohm...ba...baah.

Nice moment.

Made me feel like I'd like to fast-track our citizenship application (Niki's Dad's an American now...) so that I can be part of it before eight years are out.

This "Whitey's" gonna' make sure he does what's "Rightey"...

T

The pool of a thousand asses...

I was wishing I was back there today.  Back in our friend's pool in Florida and not in the pool we found ourselves in, this afternoon, in Vancouver.

It was a community pool, and a nice one at that.

But it was filled with the hairs of a thousand asses.

"Eeeww!  Gross!"

Exactly.

Niki and I kept looking at each other in disbelief, wondering why--exactly--we were there, immersing ourselves in water so chemical-treated (and for good reason) you could smell it five hundred feet outside the building.

"Is this really good for us?"

"Why are we doing this?"

"Why are all these people here?"

And then it hit me.

These people are all here--mostly naked in front of dozens and dozens of strangers--because they enjoy being in the company of other human beings.  That's right.  We like each other.  And no, we weren't talking to each other that much--just a casual 'Hello' here or there--but you had to admit that all them folk wouldn't have been there if they didn't want to be there...

(I mean, they could've just stayed home and had a shower, if it was just about water...)

Naked in the company of strangers.

Just like at the movies.  Just like at Church.

Of course we're clothed at AMC or at 1st Baptist, but the hope is to be able to disrobe emotionally or spiritually, is it not?  

We want our emotions laid bare by a story that's so great, so immersive, so escapist, so true and moving and powerful it changes us.  That's what we're looking forward to at the movies or in front of the TV or listening to music or at the symphony or theater.

Church is the same deal.  We want our soul exposed.  We want to experience a deep emotion, a clarion call, a moment that reminds us why we're alive and what our life's supposed to be about.

And we go to the movies and we go to Church together.

It's just not as fun alone.

Remember that in your work and in your Church and with your art.  The thing you do (even if you're just a middle manager at your average company...) at some level is about bringing people together, and people like to be brought together.

So, do it.

Make movies for date night and guys night and girls night and family day.  Design your Church service for Mom and Dad and the kids and the teens and the old folk.  Build your company in such a way that the people you work with love coming to work and love doing what they do...

Together.

'Cause if we can mix our butt hairs, fo' dang sure, we can share our art and our faith.

Right?

T

Obviously...

You gotta' love this, right?

You're looking--close up--at a log that lies on the beach at Stanley Park in Vancouver, Canada. I was staring out to sea earlier today trying to see the freighters (their foghorns booming like fell beasts...) out in the pea soup and, as I was watching the tide come in, I noticed this...

A log.

With 'LOG' written on it.

And I thought, "Cool, I should post that."

Here's why...

Sometimes you should put something obvious in your work.  Sometimes a sermon should just be direct and to the point.  You should hit the nail on the head.  You should just tell the truth, plain and simple.  You should call out the assumptions, prejudices and fears of your audience.

State the obvious.

With a film, it's a bit tougher 'cause it's so easy to crank up the cheese factor if you're not careful, but the thing is it's almost equally easy to come across as trying too hard--like a student filmmaker who thinks he's cool.

If you're over-subtle with it.

So, how do you know when to go 'on the nose', either with your dialogue or the way you've composed the scene visually or with your sound design or with the way you ask your actors to 'play' the scene.

(I mean not 'on the nose' but you know what I mean...)

Here's how I'm thinking about it...

When the scene is doing something big, or significant (like lost tankers finding their way home through a killing fog by foghorn and feel and fluky radar...) maybe pick a small thing in the scene, a look, a piece of the set you highlight in a certain way, a trick you pull with the sonics, and counter-program the significant.

Got it?

Play against the big moment with a simple, elegant, seemingly-obvious detail that only some of your audience will get on the first viewing, but one that--for those who do--enriches the experience immeasurably.

(I used to do the same thing in my sermons all the time--throwing in an untranslated word or a storyline detail connected to the intro that I didn't explain...)

Just and idea.

I'ma try it soon.

T

Some shots...

Funny the things you see if you make it a point to look.  

I was at Stanley Park today with the kids and wandered over to the water's edge for a bit. Looking around me I saw this.  A bottle of Purell tossed on the ground.

And, of course, what's funny about it is that Purell is supposed to 'make things clean' and here it is doing anything but.

Naturally it's not the bottle of Purell's fault.  It did what it was supposed to do.  Cleaned the hands of human who tossed it away.

Turns out the Purell couldn't clean the person's soul.

Clean hands or not, they still did the wrong thing.  Just like we (left to our own devices) almost always do.

Toss things aside, make things dirty, mess the place up.

Which, of course, is where 'forgiveness' comes in. 

We're all in need of it--and we storytellers should lace our stories with it and you normal people should fill your lives with it and extend it to the people you meet.

The people with filthy hands.

'Cause we all need it...

T

Pizza and movie night...

So, last night was "Meet the Robinsons" for pizza and movie night at our place.  

It just hit me that as a TV and Film Producer/Director it would make sense for me to blog on the film we watch every friday night seeing if I can nail down why it worked (or didn't work) for us in the hopes that I might learn something about story, truth, hope and inspiration along the way.

My hope is to make this a regular Saturday post--something you can watch for that hopefully makes a positive impact (in however small a way) on your life and (future) family.

So, "Meet the Robinsons".

A Disney film, one of our favorites, last night was the fourth time we've watched it all the way through as a family.  The story is about a young orphan boy who happens to be a mad genius inventor.  When he finally invents something that 'works'--a memory brain scanner--he finds himself caught up in a conspiracy rooted in the past, present and future as an evil dimwit (the 'bowler hat guy') attempts to steal the invention, pass it off as his own and destroy Louis's (the main character) life attaining World domination in the process.

The heart of 'Meet the Robinsons' is about family, about the need to belong and to be loved. And that's why the film works.  Near the end of the film--as everything is being resolved--I find myself weeping every time, so powerful is the impact of a lost boy finding love at long last.

The film apparently cost (they didn't disclose the budget but 40-80 million is likely) to make and generated $169,332,978 at the Worldwide box office.  Multiply that by the typical 1.23 to get your DVD and TV sales into the mix and you're looking at a $208,279,563 piece of business. So a success by most typical Hollywood standards.

What I got from the film last night was a reminder of how important it is to weave universally applicable themes into your work as a filmmaker, or preacher, or in whatever instances in your life force you to have to be able to tell 'story' to people (friends, family co-workers) in the hopes of motivating them to action.

Universal truth.

Some would quibble at the notion of something that's true in all times and all places for all people--it makes their bum go tight fearing that an "x + y= God" equation is lurking beneath the surface (if there is such a thing as 'Truth' there must be a baseline, reason, or source for it...) but I think you'd be hard pressed to find a child who didn't want to be loved by a parent.

That's why 'Meet the Robinsons' resonates with me and my family.  We feel Louis's need to be loved, we want to see him find love, we feel fear when it looks like it might not happen and great relief when it finally does.

'Meet the Robinsons' reminds me that on the inside I'm very much like that little boy, looking to be loved and to contribute that 'thing' I've been made to do to the benefit of my family, my community and the World at large.

Next time it's 'movie time' at your house I'd recommend the film heartily.

And remember you preachers--inject universal truth and longing into your sermons this Sunday and you'll be doing a better job.

As for the rest of us, look for that truth in your life, you'll find it in the darndest of places sometimes, but keep your eyes, ears and heart peeled and you just might find that comfort you're looking for.

T