Pizza and Movie night...

Man, this kind of 'on theme' blogging really makes you aware of the passage of time.

Week three with my 'Pizza and Movie Night' recap.

Sorry it's Sunday, not Saturday.  Yesterday we were flying cross country with our four kids so blogging took a back seat.

'Night at the Museum'...

Great movie.  Saw it twice with the kids in the theater.  I think they went twice more with Niki's Mom.  We bought it as soon as it came out on DVD and we've watched it at least seven or eight times since then.

It's a favorite.

Here's why:

1) Great concept.  Creatures coming to life?  Very cool.  Our kids love our local museum so the idea has broad appeal.  They have no problem imagining the museum coming to life 'cause the animals at their real museum look so real it took three or four visits before they started being able to see the whole place without succumbing to fits of terror.  So from that, I'm reminded to keep some kind of easy applicability in my storytelling and preaching.  Something the audience can see and go, "Yeah, that's possible..."

2) Great theme.  A Dad trying to find himself.  Facing the death of his dreams, realizing he has to embrace being a 'normal' guy and finding in that 'normal' a noble calling?  Cool.  Mix in the need Dad has to be 'Dad' to his boy--something all of us can relate to--and you've got a theme that resonates.  I'm reminded that when you're preaching you must remember the grand themes of preaching.  Creation, Fall, Death, Law, Covenant, Captivity, Release, Wandering, Home, Longing, Incarnation, Atonement, Resurrection, Sending, Preaching, Waiting, Redemption.  Same thing with our movies, remember that no great story lacks a resonant theme.  Make sure you find the theme in your story.

3) A big World.  A bone-chasing T-Rex, Genghis Khan, Roman legions fighting wild west cowboys, TR, a magic tablet, Neanderthals, and on and on; the world of NATM is vast and we love getting to visit it.  Remember to write big and tell your stories big.  Remember to show your audience the far horizon in your work and remember to urge them to chase it.

4) A sympathetic character.  We want Larry (Ben Stiller) to win.  We long for him to find his place.  We identify with him when he bumbles, when he snaps, when he caves and when he rises back up to face the challenge.  We feel like he's 'us' out there.  When you preach emphasize the humanity of your characters.  Help your audience feel 'at home' in the story you're telling. When you direct, emphasize the humanity of your characters.  Don't let your actors play 'types', get them to play humans.

And have a great ending.

'Night at the Museum', a near-classic in our house.

T

The light...

Have you ever noticed that, when it comes to mercy, you typically always get only just enough?

Nobody gets fat off mercy.

It typically comes right at the last minute, and in tightly controlled portion sizes.  It doesn't come strong enough that you never have to worry again.  It doesn't ever take all the stress away.  It typically gives you just what you need.

Mercy.

Like the sweetest of kisses leaving you longing for more.

The idea translates nicely to our stories for the screen.  When you need to give your character a break, you should give it to them at the very end of it all and in a way that's surprising and difficult and just enough to help them scrape by.  Don't ever save them all at once or once and for all.

Also, in terms of the way in which mercy infiltrates your preaching, the challenge is to glory in the free gift of it and the unexpectedness of it while still holding on to the idea that we mustn't trespass on it, or assume--in any way--that it's something deserved or due.

Mercy is, by definition, undeserved, a gift.

Something we have no right to expect.

Which is why, when it does show up, it always turns night to day and always leaves us with a scene worth filming,  a message worth preaching and a life worth living.

T

Oh my sweet Lord have mercy...

Sad, sad moment just now.

CNN (and my man Anderson) just interviewed the Director of a new documentary (airing on HBO this Thursday) on Ted Haggard, the former 'super-pastor' who got called out for having a homosexual affair.

His Church kicked him to the curb.

They showed a clip from the documentary with Ted putting 'door hangers' (looking for work) on residences in Arizona.  They showed a UHAUL van he, his wife, and FIVE kids were traveling with, all across the country looking for employment and a new life.

My heart hurts.

Can you imagine his kids?  His wife?  Displaced because of their Dad and his Church.

Oh man.

So sad.

It just occurred to me again how important it is to try and be transparent about your weaknesses, how valuable humility is, and how quick we are to judge others while neglecting to examine ourselves.

And I'm reminded of the importance of being consistent.  Consistent in what you believe and how you act.

Being true to character, as we'd say on-set.

Keeping it real, as we used to say back in the day.

Apparently he's now selling insurance.

I hope he finds peace and happiness.

T

Who am I anyway?

Where my daughter's artwork and I collide...

She made this today.

I just finished cleaning the kitchen and came out to a full-blown 'dance party' going on in the living room.  They just finished listening to 'Sexy Back', then 'Billy Jean', and Elliot Yamin just finished 'Alright'.

Remember Elliot Yamin?  Best male singer ever on Idol?  His album is great.  You should check it.

Back to me and the mask.

So they're dancing.  Daddy grabs the mask, puts it in front of his face, and the mask starts dancing.  Kids laughed at first...

(Whoops, Kanye's "Stronger" just fired up...)

But then, as the mask started head-dipping with Daddy they started to freak out a bit.  Why? Well, 'cause the mask was starting to look like Daddy.

Let that be a warning to all of us.

A mask can be fun, useful, a diversion, an assertion.

But wear a mask too convincingly and for too long and the real person beneath might start to fade.

Here's to keeping it real.

(and fun)

T

Where ideas come from...

So I'm trying to create something from nothing today.

Realizing full-well that the thing I'm looking to create--even if all goes beyond extremely well--won't see the light of day, or a screen near you until I'm 38 years old.

On a good day.

I'm trying to start getting my second feature-film set up.

The film is based on an idea I had.  An idea that I turned into the first twenty pages of a screenplay, back in 2004.  Then, a year or so ago, I started talking with a writer friend about that idea.  Wanted to see if he'd be interested in turning the idea into a full-fledged screenplay.

Well, he did.

And from the above picture--our attempt at an 'Area 51' like vista--you can guess the film will have sci-fi overtones.

It will.  It'll be called HARVEST.

(I'm speaking in faith now, noticed?)

The film will rock.  It will star known actors and be shot mostly in British Columbia.  In-fact, I found some of the northern Canada 'tundra' we're going to use to replace the Siberian sequence my writer-friend ended up putting into the thing, yesterday.

I'm feeling the idea being born on the inside of me.  That urge (like a pimple getting ready to burst) or drive to get a thing done or die trying.

And all of it--from urge to create to urge to pee while watching our movie for the first time--started with an idea, and that idea got better and better (and will eventually come to life) because lots of people poured their heart, soul, mind and effort into the thing.

That's worth noting for you, in your life and work today.

Yes, someone (you or someone else, doesn't really matter...) has to have the first 'vision' of the thing but that vision won't ever come to life until and unless you get a bunch of folks working on it together.

See, if an idea is a really good idea, it can only get better.

So, get your people going on those ideas. 

Nobody makes dreams come true alone.

Nobody.

T

The Giant and the child...

Thought you might like this one.

We'd just pulled up to Stanley Park, the kids had already run off to the climbing gym, I'd just paid for parking and saw this.

I was at least four hundred feet away and was going to shoot the shot just for the tanker, then--as I was focusing--the child walked into frame, going for the fountain.

Fantastic.

Connect the giant to the child.

The giant brings food to the child.  The child's parents buy the food and their money--after some long meandering--finds it's way back to the ship's captain and owner and crew.

They're connected.

Though one dwarfs the other, neither is more or less important.

They both depend on water.  Without it they'd die.

A tanker and a child a mile apart, through the magic of a lens, shown--perhaps--to be not so far apart as we might think.

What connection will you make--friend preacher--as you exegete and apply tomorrow, bending the truth as written through the lens of your study and life experience in the power of the Spirit?

What connection--friend filmmaker--as you frame your shots and tell your story?  What hidden truth will you reveal by bending light and tale together?

How will you live differently tomorrow--dear reader--knowing that each purchase, every choice, changes the World both near to you, and far?

T

Pizza and Movie night...

Another Saturday, another post on the movie we watched last night as a family.

Yes, "MUUU-PPETTTSSS...FRRROOMMM...SPAAAAACE"!

Had to say it that way 'cause it's ingrained in my head from growing up watching 'The Muppet Show' every weekend.

First comment--it's totally amazing the staying power Jim Henson's creations have.  If you factor in 'Sesame Street' and 'The Muppets' I think you could claim that Henson and crew have, by this point, influenced two or three generations.  My kids laugh their guts out to many of the same skits I loved when I was their age.

Talk about your 'evergreen programming'.

Seems to me from watching MFS last night that there are four key things going on that make this, and the other classic Henson stories, relevant, successful, and long-lasting.

1) We love the characters.  Because we love Fozzy so much, his lack of screen-time doesn't really stress us out too much because when he is in the frame he's being classic Fozzy.  Of course, the reason that Fozzy had to take a back seat in MFS is that MFS is Gonzo's story and both Gonzo and Fozzy are typically performed by Frank Oz.  But, each Muppet character has deep resonance with us because we've known them for years.  Translated to TV-land that means you have the great opportunity with producing a 'long narrative' (like 'The Muppet Show') to tell your character's stories over years.  If you don't have that chance, like in moive-land, you need to try and swing the characters a little more towards universal 'types' so that the audience will have enough built-in familiarity with them to make the characters resonate even though your viewers haven't been watching them every saturday morning for most of their lives.

2) The story is simple, and universal.  Gonzo doesn't know who he is because he doesn't know where he's from.  He needs to find his family.  Hence the 'quest' to make contact with his alien brethren.  Naturally, the story climaxes with Gonzo realizing his 'family' has been with him all along.  A simple, universal story that almost everyone can identify with.

3) The movie is 'BIG' meaning it takes us to outer space, inside a top secret government installation and to a beachside rendezvous with extraterrestrial life.  The film is an escapist treat--great production value for what it is.  Every story we tell, we do well to remember to make it 'event programing'.

4) It's funny, in that classically Henson way.  Double entendres, one-liners, jests, jabs and sarcasm, all delivered with love and trusting friendship as the undercurrent.  I've read that if you can make your audience laugh and cry in the same movie you've got a 100 million dollar grosser on your hands.

Strong characters, universal stories, big--escapist--scope, and humor mixed with emotion.

The Henson recipe.

And all of us, whether telling a story at work, or building a sermon for Church, or in crafting a film or a television series--or whether we're just reading C.S Lewis to our kids at night--would do well to inject the essence of those four into our storytelling.

'Cause story matters.  It's our great escape.

T