Roundtable Pictures

Super 8 Snowstorm

noreply@blogger.com (Roundtable Pictures) — Thu, 05 Jan 2012 20:41:00 +0000

In the summer of 1969, my parents bought a Hanimex Super 8 camera to record the first year of my sister's life. It was, or at least it seemed to us, the very latest in modern technology - even though you couldn't record any sound. You bought the film at the camera store -- you remember those -- and we dropped the film off at Star Market in East Providence to get it developed. The film came in three minute rolls, encased in a small black cassette. It took a few days and then you went back to the supermarket to pick it up. We had a Bell & Howell projector, and we'd set it up and watch the movies that we shot.

We got a little better at it, and I don't remember our parents ever telling us not to shoot this, or don't do that -- in terms of wasting film - so we pretty much shot whatever we wanted.

I'm guessing this film is from 1972 or 1973. There is a shot with my sister in it -- she's wearing the red and white coat -- and she doesn't look more than 2 or 3 years old so the year seems about right.

It seems very quaint and cosy to me. The look of the cars. The umbrella the woman is carrying as she walks down the street. The ancient snow plows. It has gone from being a contemporary glimpse into the world to a snapshot of a time that seems long ago now.

The background music is courtesy of Mr. Dean Martin.

-- Lars Trodson

Letting Creativity Flow Without Fear: Monte Hellman's "Road To Nowhere"

noreply@blogger.com (Roundtable Pictures) — Fri, 18 Nov 2011 19:27:00 +0000

Shannyn Sossamon in Monte Hellman's "Road to Nowhere."

By Lars Trodson

Here's a fantasy: Monte Hellman's latest movie, "Road To Nowhere", gets submitted to film festivals. Juries hail the new direction this audacious talent has taken. Major studios bid for its distribution. It's released nationally. The performers in "Road To Nowhere" go off to busy Oscar-nominated careers and everyone would be asking: what will Hellman do next? Best of all, the meanings and merits of "Road To Nowhere" would be debated in the newspapers and the coffeehouses around the country.

But back to the reality: We don't live in the 1970s and these aren't terribly curious cinematic times.

And so Hellman's movie, finished in 2010, has not found a mass audience. It is the latest, but no means last, effort by the justifiably revered Hellman.

With "Road To Nowhere" Hellman adds a new color to his canvas. There is no stamp of the director's earlier, earthier works (seminal westerns with Jack Nicholson in the 1960s; "Two Lane Blacktop" in 1971) and little to connect it to the paint-by-numbers product Hollywood is happily and profitably offering up these days. It is its own animal. Hellman allows his movie to continue down its tunnels of dark possibilities.

What we have in "Road To Nowhere" is dramatic sureness, glorious and unexpected performances and a witty, ingenious script. Hellman, in an interview with Roundtable Pictures, said he hoped that the audience would let go of any perceptions they may have about what a mystery should be, and simply "relax" while watching it.

He's right. Let it wash over you like a dream, or a memory, or a mist, or a legend.

Anytime an artist achieves this balance of tone, whether it's "The Godfather" or a tonal work of conceptual music like Miles Davis's "Kind Of Blue", you remember it. It sticks with you. Because "Road To Nowhere" arrives at its pitch-perfect tone so beautifully, you won't forget it. I think this is the kind of movie that should be watched in groups, and talked about later.

Hellman draws you in early. The first shot is of a DVD in its plastic case. Handwritten on the disc are the words "Road To Nowhere." This is both a poignant and questioning image. What is a movie? What is this movie?

The DVD is popped into a laptop., Ah, the old movie within a movie you'll say - but wait. Hellman's digital camera moves in slowly, slowly, and we see a young woman (Shannyn Sossamon) on a bed, and we hear someone singing Kris Kristofferson's "Help Me Make It Through The Night." She starts to blow her hair with a hair dryer.

The scene lingers and clearly the audience sees what Hellman sees in Sossamon. We are captivated by her. Not so much, perhaps, by her beauty but by her mystery. The next thing we know we're in a dark tunnel - literally the end of the "road to nowhere" in North Carolina - and Sossamon, playing an actress hired to act in the movie within the movie within the movie (yes), doubles over in a Lear-like howl of pain.

And we're off an running.

This is the story of a hot-shot young director by the name of Mitchell Haven (Tygh Runyon) who wants to make film about a "true" crime that happened in North Carolina. Haven is told by a studio boss that this will be his "masterpiece." But the true story has a twist: Is a real-life suspect in the crime - a woman by the name of Velma Duran (Sossamon) who disappeared - actually the actress Laurel Graham (also Sossamon) who has been picked to play the part?

Hellman and screenwriter Steve Gaydos (an editor at Variety) have a few surprises in store right away that take you deeper into the picture. There are a couple of real jolts early on. And it is here, just at the moment when you're about to lean forward and say to yourself "I need to pay attention", is the exact moment, as Hellman said, to sit back and relax.

Gaydos' script is delicate and full of real wit - a rarity these days. Having recently sat through a few movies with almost no script at all ("Paranormal Activity 2" and the execrable "The Tourist") anything even resembling a plot might have been welcome. But Gaydos' script is beautifully crafted, and it has some of the best lines in a movie heard in years.

A scene in a bar between Bruno Brotherton (Waylon Payne, who has the same gift of thoughtful, concenrated, honest Southern delivery as the great Holly Hunter) and Nathalie Post (Dominique Swain, exuding the right kind of toughness for the internet muckraker she plays) includes the following exchange:

Nathalie: You're an insurance investigator.
Bruno: You make it sound like I'm some kind of cop or something. (Pause, explaining) I just kind of play around with statistics and numbers and -
Nathalie: Facts?
Bruno: Yes, ma'am, those, too.

When I realized what he had actually said, I laughed out loud.

In another scene one character says to another: "Are you on Spacebook or MyFace?" Or, after Haven deliberates over hiring such actors as Leonardo DiCaprio, he says: "I can't cast someone just because they're famous and make my movie a lot of money." Any line that makes you think twice about what it actually is saying is unique, and this movie is full of them.

The performers are uniformly wonderful. Runyon, as the young cocky, director, exudes the right mixture of unctuousness and sincerity. Waylon Payne gives the kind of performance you rarely see any more; quiet yet forceful. It doesn't shout out at you as acting but is actually, to me, the highest examples of the craft.

The real revelation, for me, was Sossamon, who has the kind of naturalness that you associate with the very best screen actors - Audrey Hepburn and the early Jane Fonda. Her line delivery has a kind of Myrna Loy quality - and Loy had one of the most unique and honest approaches to reading a line in the history of movies.

If "Road To Nowhere" had been made by a young unknown director, critics would have hailed it as the emergence of a fresh new voice. But Hellman is 79 now, and obviously, in the nearly 50 years he has been making movies and teaching about them, he has decided to not rest easy. The result is the beautiful, haunting and ultimately moving "Road To Nowhere."

The Monte Hellman Interview with Roundtable Pictures

noreply@blogger.com (Roundtable Pictures) — Fri, 18 Nov 2011 19:26:00 +0000

Lars Trodson: There’s a moment in "Road To Nowhere" when Peter Bart from Variety asks the director Mitchell Haven “do you feel rusty?” and so, did you, after more than two decades away from making movies, feel rusty?

Monte Hellman: I always feel rusty in the sense that whenever I start a movie I don’t remember anything about the process. I have a panic attack several days before, but as soon as I get on the set - it’s kind of like you think you don’t know how to ride a bicycle, but when you get on it’s okay. That’s what happens. I get on the bicycle and sure enough I don’t fall off. That’s what happens everytime I make a movie.

LT: Technology has changed since you started making movies. I thought the way you shot this film was fascinating. (It was shot on the Canon 5D Mark II. The director of photography was Josep Civit.)

MH: The technology had been changing. It changes so fast you have to keep up with it everyday. But I had been into digital film photography for 20 years and so I had already decided in my mind that digital was better if only because you have more control. Every movie director is a control freak, and I’m no different. So when I saw that in still photography I could make much more precise adjustments and control the color much more accurately than you ever can when you’re dealing with chemical baths and the difference in temperature from one bath to another. It always drove me crazy when movies would shift color from one reel to another - so this way it’s consistent. I discovered that HDP is better. It’s almost like three dimensional when you see it.

LT: It also had a warm tone. Your scenes in Rome I thought had a really warm quality.

MH: And everything in the movie is not warm. When you go into his (Mitchell Haven's) little room where he’s being interviewed it’s neon light and everything has a greenish cast to it. So the movie changes it’s look from scene to scene but there is a lot of stuff that has a warmth to it.

LT: I was intrigued that you didn’t go out of your way to explain anything. The movie sort of unfolds before you.

MH: I’ve had a lot of pet peeves with movies in general over my entire viewing life and one of those is that - and I guess this is my nature, I’m a realist or a naturalist - I just object when characters on screen don’t talk the way that people do in real life. One of the things I noticed in my life anyway is that nobody ever uses names. If you’re with somebody constantly you don’t say, ‘Hey, Emma.’ You just talk. It’s a continuous conversation. You may only use a name when you’re calling somebody to get their attention in the room or something.

The same is true with exposition. We don’t have to expose to each other because we all know the story and so exposition in real life doesn’t exist. It only exists in an artificial environment, in a drama, and I hate that. So I just try to eliminate it whenever I can.

LT: We sort of have to figure out our own lives, why wouldn’t we have to do it with a movie?

MH: Exactly. We know - we know what’s going on. We don’t have to say, ‘Oh, remember last year when such and such ...‘ You don’t have to say that.

LT: I hate it when someone says, ‘I’m going to go see my sister Amy.’ Who says that?

MH: Roger Corman used to make us put lines like that in. Roger was sure no one would get it. And they still don’t, because people don’t look and listen at the same time. My movies are essentially visual experiences and so when your eye is busy your ear shuts down.

LT: I thought the screenplay had some of the best lines I’ve heard in a movie in I don’t know how long.

MH: The screenplay is very witty and the writer (Steve Gaydos) is an extremely funny guy and a bright guy and he makes me laugh ten times a day.

LT: Mitchell Haven, to me, he was the picture of Hollywood banality, in a way. The way he spoke. “All the gin joints in all the world ...” He speaks these Hollywood aphorisms. He speaks in that Hollywood way.

MH: I see him in that way, too, but he’s somewhere between Steve’s idea of what I might have been like a hundred years ago.

LT: What you might have been like?

MH: What all these terrific young guys are like. Wes Anderson and P.T. Anderson and Rick Linklater - there’s a dozen great young directors who are so young and so kind of seemingly naive, but they’re not - seemingly naive and they come off as kind of too sincere. And so it’s not in any way putting me down or putting them down. It’s a kind of observation on how young the business has become.

LT: Banality exists everywhere. It’s not just indicative of the Hollywood scene.

MH: Right.

LT: The choice of “Help Me Make It Throught The Night” - that’s a Kristofferson song, obviously a famous song - was that a kind of reference to your own experience with those guys, Warren Oates, and that kind of thing. You're obviously a (Sam) Peckinpah fan. Or did that song just fit the mood?

MH: I have to admit I love Kristofferson. We pretty much, except for that song, and the song in the bar, we used only Tom Russell’s music. But that rendition of “Help Me Make It Throught The Night” - one of my favorite songs - I was not aware of and it is the mother of our actor Waylon Payne who sings it. He brought it to my attention. He said he would help get the rights, and it turned out to still be a very expensive song because it’s such a seminal song in Kristofferson’s career. But he suggested it and besides being right for the mood it was also the right amount of time. It was a very short rendition of the song - even though some people think that scene takes forever.

LT: You do hold your shots a long time. I love that. You created your own aesthetic for that film by doing so.

MH: I felt at the beginning - well, there were two things. The script was far more complex than the movie is and with the help of my brilliant editor Celine Ameslon we simplified it enough so that we didn't lose the author's intent of making a complex movie. But we simplified it enough so people could kind of navigate their way through it.

LT: Right.

MH: I decided that at the beginning I was just going to tell the backstory in as simple a way possible. So that being said, I also decided we needed a way to kind of psychologically signal to the audience that they should just relax and they should not expect a movie that was in any way resembling a music video or a commercial or something. So I purposely elongated the time in that scene (the opening scene with Sossamon on the bed blowing her hair) just so that we could then speed up the movie afterwards.

LT: You can sit back and relax but you throw a couple of things at the audience. The special effects are spectacular.

MH: The special effects are spectacular. They were created by Robert Skotack who basically learned everything he did working on our movie by working in 'Titanic.'

LT: I thought the use of the credits for the movie within the movie was interesting. It really made me sit and up and say, "I'm really going to have to pay attention to what is going on here."

MH: It's funny. I wasn't at the press screening in Venice, I had heard afterward that when those came on everybody lit up their iPhone to check to see if they were in the right movie.

LT: I did the same thing! I popped the movie out and looked at the label. I was wondering if I had done something wrong. One of the other things that the director says in the movie is about not casting famous people. Do you have that - is that an aesthetic choice or is a budget choice? I thought these actors were great, yet I didn't know some of them.

MH: I've had the good fortune to work with Jack Nicholson on five movies before he became Jack Nicholson and now my whole budget wouldn't pay for his driver, you know. The world changes. I do believe that a lot of movies get destroyed by the fact that they are made by agents packaging them and putting them together with names that sell but don't necessarily make for a good movie. I believe that. But would I, if offered any of those actors, turn them down? Probably not.

LT: You give a tiny little nod to Jack Nicholson in your film. (A TV interview with Leonardo DiCaprio with a photo of Jack Nicholson behind him.) I know that you won the major award at the Venice Film Festival, do I have that right?

MH: It wasn't the major award. I didn't get Golden Lion for Best Picture. I got Golden Lion for "Best Pictures" - in the sense that it was kind of like for my whole ouvre wrappred into one.

LT: How has the reception for "Road To Nowhere" been?

MH: The reception has been, in Europe at least, the warmer the country the warmer the reception. We have gotten an absolutely enthusiastic response from the Italians, Spanish, Portuguese, Brazilians, Argentinians, and reasonably the same from France, but France is a little further north and not quite as warm a reception. But then you get up into the UK, and Austria and Germany and as the country gets colder our reception gets colder. In fact, we just got out first rave review out of the UK a couple of days ago.

LT: How did the script come to you?

MH: Steven is an old time friend and collaborator and he drafted part of the idea and it became kind of an way to I guess document our history of working on movies together. That's part of what appealed to me about it. There's just so much fun to see that process. To document that process of making movies.

LT: As you get older, the idea of what's real, and what you dreamt and what you might have done all gets blurred. I thought this was part of the experience for me watching this movie. What is real?

MH: You're a little older than me because I've been 39 for 40 years! It's not expected to be an accurate depiction. It's the way you would see it if you were looking through a mist or dreaming it.

LT: You teach the craft of film. What are you telling your students about the industry today? The whole idea of movies is changing. They remake movies almost annually now - one movie gets made and it doesn't do well and they remake it. It seems to strange to me. What are you telling your students about the industry itself?

MH: That's not a course that I teach. I teach a Master Class and it's a philosophical approach to movies and what we can learn from different contributions from different directors and producers. Sometimes a producer is more important, as was the case with the Darryl Zanuck movies.

But the other thing I teach is basic technique. I'm teaching my students the basics of blocking and how you shoot a two character scene as opposed to a three character scene, or four people sitting around a table. That kind of thing.

LT: I'm glad you said that because some of the blocking, I wrote this in my notes, reminded me of "The Maltese Falcon."

MH: Not consciously, but I take that as a high compliment.

LT: The industry is certainly different than when you started out in the early 70s -

MH: When I started out in the 60s -

LT: Yes, right.

MH: As much as it was maligned, the studio system, when each studio was run by one guy, and whose taste literally - Louis B. Mayer said his taste was in the seat of pants and if his ass started to hurt he knew there was something wrong with the picture. I think those days were a lot better than what we have today when movies are made by a liquor company or by DVD hardware companies. This is not the best thing that has happened to us.

LT: Do you ascribe to the idea of the auteur, or -? I really look at films as a very collaborative thing. What's your vision of that?

MH: Obviously, somebody has to make the decisions. I could not have made this movie the way it turned out without consciously attempting to make it even more collaborative than it had been for me in the past. I really opened up the idea of letting people tap into their subconscious, letting creativity flow without fear, if it doesn't work we won't use it. I welcomed creative ideas from everybody and I got them. I got them in spades. It was fantastic.

A friend of mine who is a minor studio executive saw the movie before we ever played in a theater or before it came out on DVD and his first comment was 'This movie has really ruined me from watching other movies because the performances are so real. If I see a movie now, it seems fake to me.' It's part of this process of opening up the actors to their feelings of the moment, and some of the greatest things in the movie came out of just that. What they would do would be so astounding it would literally change the movie.

I'll give you an example and this won't spoil it. I hate spoilers. The first time we see Shannyn in the tunnel the script literally said, 'She walks into the tunnel, stays a few moments, turns around and walks out.' We shot that six times. It's still mysterious because it's dark and the water's dripping, and after the six takes she said 'Do you mind if I try something?" and what her trying something was her trying to tap into what she was feeling at the moment, which was a panic attack, and she let it happen. It literally became the opening bookend of the movie, which sends you off on this course of mystery which would not have existed if she had not done that.

LT: That seems really from the gut.

MH: It was. She was actually experiencing it. She knew what she was doing, but she let her feelings happen. That tunnel, by the way, is the end of the real 'road to nowhere' in the Smoky Mountains of North Carolina. The road to nowhere was, in the the late 40s, the federal government built a dam and in so doing they cut off access to some of the cemeteries and native American burial grounds of the people living there and so they agreed to build a road that would give these people access to their own cemeteries and they began the road in 1948 or something and stopped somewhere around 1960, or maybe even later, and they never finished it. I don't know if they ran out of money or if they didn't allocate any more, whatever it was, and so it was a huge political issue to this day in North Carolina and lots of unhappy people about it. But that tunnel is where the road to nowhere ends and that's the reason we went there to shoot. That became one of the key sets of the movie.

LT: I read that Shannyn said you guys were planning something else? Is that still on track?

MH: It absolutely is. We're still in the throes of raising money and you never know where that is going to lead or how long it's going to take, but we hope to start early next year.

LT: What would you say to people when they sit down to watch "Road To Nowhere" - what do you want them to take away?

MH: I've said this to some people, and some people have gotten pissed off because they thought I was telling them how to watch the movie. That was the furthest thing from my mind. What I said was that audiences get so intellectual about it, and wrapped up in their perceptions of what a mystery is, that they can't watch the movie. If you just kind of sit back and look at it as if you're watching a dream, when you wake up you'll have plenty of time to figure it out.

Patriotic Peacock Feathers

noreply@blogger.com (Roundtable Pictures) — Sun, 23 Oct 2011 19:52:00 +0000

By Lars Trodson

During the Republican debate that was broadcast on CNN a couple of weeks ago, I began to wonder what message the network was actually trying to convey. Was the debate an opportunity for the candidates to get their views out to the viewing public? Or was it a chance for CNN to tell the world that it was the most patriotic company Ever?

I was asking the question because, as my attention drifted away from what the candidates were saying -- nothing even the most casual observers of politics had not heard before -- I became mesmerized by the set.

Look at that thing! It was a massive display of the stars and stripes. Fields of blue! Stars! America!

Now I am old enough, and interested in politics enough, to have some memory of debates going back to at least the mid-1970s, and I was thinking I had never seen anything quite like this. I didn’t even know if I had seen such a display just four years ago (or was it just three?).

A quick tour of the images from past presidential debates was illustrative. From the first debate in 1960 between Richard Nixon and John F. Kennedy until the 1990s, the decor behind the candidates was actually rather subdued. We’ve compiled a little slideshow for you here.

I know that advancements in digital technology has made a lot of this possible. But, as they say, just because you can doesn’t mean that you should.

The “debates”, as we all know, are a joke; a weak framework for moderators and politicians to strut their stuff, each to their own whims, demonstrating their general disregard for substance and heft.

I know that CNN has been called “liberal” -- which is another way of saying that you are anti-American.

But, really, fellas, you protest too much. I am not the first, nor will I be the last, to ask if there has got to be a better way for us to listen to those running for office.

A good first step, it seems to me, is to not dwarf candidates for the presidency of the United States in a blinding storm of digital patriotic peacock feathers.

A Halloween Treat From Roundtable Pictures

noreply@blogger.com (Roundtable Pictures) — Sun, 23 Oct 2011 14:27:00 +0000

With Halloween fast approaching, we wanted to share an encore presentation of "The Palmstone," an original radio drama written and directed by Lars Trodson and performed by The Radio Players of the Seacoast.

"The Palmstone" aired live here on July 31, 2007, and was serialized over four days.

You can listen to all four parts now, by clicking here.

Trodson said of "The Palmstone" in 2007, "I had been looking for a ghost story to write, in part because I was interested, at the time this project came about, in writing strictly genre pieces. I had written an art heist play -- produced at a local theater -- and written and produced a romantic comedy called “Family Trees”, which was an independent movie we made in 1997. And so I thought one of the things I should try was a ghost story. And a radio play seemed the best way to exercise that desire.

But I couldn’t come up with a good story. Every idea I had I Googled, and discovered I had unintentionally cadged someone else’s story. Frustrated, I started to read old, forgotten ghost story texts in search of inspiration. Anything that would spark a good idea that I could turn into my own.

It was during that time I first read “The Monkey’s Paw.” I was completely enamored of the story, and it is no secret that “The Palmstone” is an adaptation – or, in the parlance of today -- a reimagining of that original story.

I wrote several scripts simply retelling the details of “The Monkey’s Paw” – none of which were satisfactory. Simply put, “The Monkey’s Paw” tells the story of a couple who has in their possession a severed monkey’s paw, a talisman, that allows them three wishes. They use those three wishes, and the results are much more complicated, and horrific, then they could have ever imagined." (You can read more about "The Palmstone" here.)

In Memoriam: Norman Corwin, 1910-2011

noreply@blogger.com (Roundtable Pictures) — Wed, 19 Oct 2011 14:45:00 +0000

My great friend and a true inspiration to me has died. LT

Hear Lars Trodson of Roundtable Pictures interview Norman Corwin here.

Read an obituary here.

Looking For Love on 9/11

noreply@blogger.com (Roundtable Pictures) — Sat, 10 Sep 2011 12:37:00 +0000

By Mike Gillis

It’s a beautiful morning on September 11, 2001. On the 70th floor of the World Trade Center, a stockbroker is on the phone ordering tickets to that night’s Yankees and White Sox game. A newly hired executive assistant clutches a small peace lily plant, a Coach bag stuffed with family photos, and a desk lamp from home for the late nights ahead, all destined for her new desk on the 90th floor. An analyst on the 79th floor wakes up on a couch, as he often does after a rollercoaster day in the emerging markets, and remembers he missed his son’s football game again. A courier meets a new friend on the stairwell of the 88th floor. Her friend will admit, finally and suddenly, that their friendship means much more.

While none of these stories may be real, they are likely. There were thousands of similar stories unfolding within the walls of the World Trade Center on 9/11 in the moments before the first plane crashed into the North Tower of the World Trade Center, at 8:46 a.m.

For most of us, the story of 9/11 begins after that attack. The stunning and important accounts of survival, rescue and tragedy continue to be told on the eve of the 10th anniversary of 9/11. They should be.

When we set out to make our short film, “Tuesday Morning,” we only knew we wanted our story to acknowledge the thousands of stories that will never, can never, be told. Those stories unfolded simply and without attention, as do most moments in our lives.

During a question and answer session after a screening of the film at the Red Door in Portsmouth, New Hampshire, Lars Trodson, who wrote the film, said, “We had heard from the survivors. We had certainly heard from people on their cell phones to loved ones after the plane had hit, which are terrifying to hear, and we heard from the police and fire departments, which is completely appropriate. Those moments dedicated to life before anyone knew what was happening, we haven’t heard, we wouldn’t hear. We knew there were moments of grace and happiness in the building that day. We thought we would try to capture that moment.” (You can hear the entire question and answer session with the filmmakers here: http://qik.com/roundtablepictures)

Our story, which began as a stage play by Trodson, changed in many ways over the two years that culminated in the film you see here now. However, the reason the film exists remains its constant: to celebrate those stories of grace and happiness that will never be told.

Of course, we wouldn’t have been able to tell a story that demands such grace without two actors who understood that goal from the beginning. Whitney Smith and Teddi Kenick-Bailey breathe life into this picture. Their performances are simply beautiful. Real. I say “breathe life” because this is a story about life, foremost. It also suggests that life is meant to enjoy, savoring those moments that define us, because life can end abruptly.

In addition, we had a small but spectacular cast and crew to help shape our story: Jonathon Millman, Stanton Barker, Christine Long, Jason Santo, David Steffen, Alex Knuuttunen, Andrew Bohenko, Judy Levine, Mark Dearborn and Casey Mitchell.

So, as we commemorate the 10th anniversary of the terrible attacks of 9/11, we wanted to share our own small tribute to the untold stories of that day. We hope you find a little love and happiness here, amidst the wreckage and destruction.

The Word Is Out! Eagles Fly Alone Is The Book People Can’t Put Down!

noreply@blogger.com (Roundtable Pictures) — Fri, 02 Sep 2011 18:27:00 +0000

Here are a few unsolicited and unedited reader comments:

“Dear Lars, I loved your book! I started it on Sunday morning and didn’t put it down until I finished it on Sunday night. I haven’t enjoyed the luxury of reading all day since college (and then it wasn’t a luxury!).Langley’s character just keeps getting more and more complex as his relationships with other characters reveal who he is and his outlook on life. I enjoyed the twisting storyline as the plot thickened. I have thought about Langley many times since I finished the book. That is true testament to the vitality of a good read.So where is Fenton? Really?I am looking froward to the next Langley Calhoun Mystery!” – Marsha Brown, Hampton, NH

“I finished the book last night. I have to tell you I really enjoyed it immensely! You know, it really reminds me a lot of the Alexander McCall Smith books, The Ladies’ Detective Agency series. Those are very much chick-lit, but I ADORE the books… the mysteries and investigations are very secondary to the brilliant characters in the books. If you haven’t read any of them, I recommend you read at least the first so you get an idea of what I mean. They are very short books, but I savor every page. I love the feel of the town you’ve created, the tension between the brothers, between the selectmen and various townspeople, and I loved Antonio. Will the next book pick up where the first left off? I mean, have we seen the last of Antonio? I thought [Bill] Plano was a great villain and I also loved Maria Tull. What an ass! I can really picture these corrupt characters in a small town… big town also!” – Debbie Tillar, New Castle, NH

“I enjoyed Mr. Trodson’s new novel, Eagles Fly Alone, immensely. I found it to be a good mystery story, with interesting characters, especially the main character, Langley Calhoun. I also thought the book was an easy read. In fact, I read it in one sitting, finding that once I got into the story I could not put it down. I am really looking forward to meeting up with Langley Calhoun in his next adventure.” - Fred Dolman, Portsmouth, NH

Click here to get your copy of Eagles Fly Alone

Lars Trodson's Novel Eagles Fly Alone Out On Sept. 1

noreply@blogger.com (Roundtable Pictures) — Mon, 15 Aug 2011 17:45:00 +0000

A new thriller by Seacoast writer Lars Trodson, titled Eagles Fly Alone, will be published nationally by Mainly Murder Press on Sept. 1.

The novel will be available at bookstores and also online at all major booksellers.

Eagles Fly Alone introduces Langley Calhoun, a police chief in a quiet New Hampshire town called Fenton. Chief Calhoun is well-liked and he loves his little town. But then a rare, dead eagle is found on someone’s property. The eagle, which has been deliberately killed, is looked upon as nothing more than an odd, eerie incident by the townspeople until Chief Calhoun begins to look deeper into why the rare eagle was brought to Fenton, and who might have killed it. What he finds sets the whole town on edge, and destroys the fragile bonds that have held his own family together.

Editor Jack Murphy said the publishers at Mainly Murder Press “originally thought of this as a mystery for men, but women are going to love Langley, too. Brave, smart, loyal, loving – what’s not to like? He’s a terrific protagonist from any point of view, and we wish him well.”

James Landis, author of such novels as The Last Day, said “You’ll want to be alone when you read Eagles Fly Alone. In one sitting. Uninterrupted. It’s that compelling. Mystery. Complex family tale. Love story. All wrapped around, and within, the wonderful Langley Calhoun. Long may he live in many more books by the formidable new writer, Lars R. Trodson.”

The novel weaves together the threads of a unique mystery, while also creating a vibrant picture of New England life. Its customs and idiosyncrasies are richly detailed, and the novel is filled with surprising, fascinating people who help propel the mystery along.

“I wanted to write a great mystery, something fresh, but I also wanted to write a uniquely American book,” said Trodson. “I know that people are frustrated with our country now. But this is a story of people who do the right thing, and who are honorable and decent. They struggle but they also succeed, which I think is a story of also what’s happening in America today. I wanted to paint a picture that’s not idealized, but one that is also real and hopeful. The ending of this story is a triumph because so many people do the right thing – and they hold accountable those who don’t.”

Trodson has been a writer and editor in the Seacoast for the past 20 years. He has had numerous plays produced at The Player's Ring in Portsmouth. Five films that he has written and produced have been selected for the New Hampshire Film Festival. He has been honored numerous times by the New Hampshire Press Association and the New England Press Association for his newspaper reporting and editing. He is currently the VP of Public Relations for JBC Communications in Portsmouth. A public reading will be held at RiverRun Bookstore, 20 Congress St., Portsmouth, NH at 7 p.m. on Sept. 7. For more information for sales and other public readings, please visit www.eaglesflyalone.com. For media inquiries please call (603) 498-4742.

Manohla Dargis: One Of The Worst Movie Reviews Ever

noreply@blogger.com (Roundtable Pictures) — Wed, 10 Aug 2011 12:31:00 +0000

This is a great example of what is wrong with modern American movie criticism in print journalism today. This is a review of a major motion picture in a major newspaper. The New York Times, in fact. I defy anyone to figure out whether Manohla Dargis is actually recommending you go see "The Help" or not. Can't she -- or her editors -- get to the point? Is the paper hamstrung by a possible boycott of advertising if the review is no good? Who knows? We'll post the link, but you're better off spending your time taking out the garbage.

http://movies.nytimes.com/2011/08/10/movies/the-help-spans-two-worlds-white-and-black-review.html?hpw

--LT

Has 'On The Road' Been Delayed?

noreply@blogger.com (Roundtable Pictures) — Sun, 10 Jul 2011 19:18:00 +0000

I was searching around the net kind of casually looking for news about the upcoming film version of "On The Road." I saw a couple of blogs saying the movie had a release date of early December in France, but no US date, other than a vague announcement it would be later in 2011.

But the "On The Road" listing on IMDB has been updated to say that both the France and USA release will come in 2012. The film has apparently been in postproduction since last December. The film is produced by Francis Ford Coppolla, among others, and directed by Walter Salles. It has an interesting cast.

Delays usually mean trouble, so we'll see.

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0337692/

-- LT

Peter Falk The Troubador

noreply@blogger.com (Roundtable Pictures) — Thu, 07 Jul 2011 12:15:00 +0000

By Lars Trodson

The only appropriate analogy for John Cassavetes, Peter Falk, Ben Gazzara, Gena Rowlands and Seymour Cassel I can think of is to the members of the Beat generation. Each group inspired each other, argued with each other, propped each other up when others were down, and generally swam against the tide even when very few people believed in them.

When Peter Falk died last week I really wasn’t thinking about Lt. Columbo, although I love that character. I was thinking of this group of actors that supported each other’s dreams and aspirations in a way you really don’t see any more. They created a body of work that is unique, just like the Beats did.

They worked for each other even though there was no money involved. Orson Welles had his itinerant group of actors that helped him out over the years - Akim Tamiroff and the like - and so did Cassavetes. This included Peter Falk.

Falk gave money to Cassavetes so he could complete “A Woman Under The Influence” in 1974. They made “Husbands” together, which is ambling but beautiful. Falk appeared in a cameo in “Opening Night.” Everytime you see these guys in an interview they’re smoking and sitting in some bar or restaurant. They’re invariably fiddling with a cigarette lighter. I suppose this glamorizes smoking but so what.
Falk acted in a theater troupe that Cassavetes started when he decided he didn’t want to make movies any more.

“No one was getting paid!” said Falk in an interview. There is nothing more inspiring to me than artists who continue to plug away, sometimes in obscurity, always against the odds, without any money. They were imbued with total belief in their art and themselves. Maybe the reason they smoked was because they were all gamblers! Most assuredly they gambled with their own lives.

Falk often said that acting the part of Columbo didn’t make him a better actor, but it did make him rich. He did, with that role, create something that very, very few people have done, which is to create a character that lives on, that is a cultural touchstone, and that people liked. That’s a tremendous thing.

But he also was part of this remarkable group of cinematic nomads, who were making art films for the grindhouse circuit, who believed in each other and, one hopes, if only because it seems romantic, that they were never judgmental of each other. They were the type of people who said, “Tell me where to show up and I’ll be there.”

Others have tried to generate this bonhomie, such as Brad Pitt and George Clooney. The Judd Apatow group has tried to think of itself as a repertory company. But their endeavors are always awash in gloss and money. Dispiritingly, their movies together seem more and more to feel like a party the rest of us are not invited to.

It never seemed that way with Peter Falk and his group. They were trying to make art, and their determination to create art despite having no money is an endeavor that, if not heroic, then certainly seems honest. They didn’t condescend to the audience’s intelligence. They tried to rise up to it, which is the nobility of it.

The Independent Doctrine of J. Todd Harris: How To Get Your Movie Made and Distributed

noreply@blogger.com (Roundtable Pictures) — Wed, 15 Jun 2011 11:31:00 +0000

One of Hollywood's Busiest Producers Talks Indie's Future

By Lars Trodson

J. Todd Harris, CEO and founder of Branded Pictures Entertainment, has made or helped to get made 37 movies in the past 16 years. Even Woody Allen can't keep pace with that. The films range from last year's Oscar nominee "The Kids Are All Right" (on which he was an executive producer) to the big-splash "Piranha 3D" to the much admired "Bottle Shock" from 2008.

Harris is, if anything, the embodiment of the modern independent producer. He's funnelling movies through the system for a wide range of audiences, and he's adapting his methods to the times. He now takes time everyday to work on social and business networking. He's even recruiting athletes for his lacrosse movie through Facebook and other platforms on the Internet. He's juggling projects between major Hollywood players such as the Weinstein Company to a new filmmaker working out of Georgia.

He seemed the best person for Roundtable Pictures to talk to about the challenges facing the independent movie scene. The movie business, Harris readily admits, is changing as rapidly as the music scene. And there are many questions: How do you get your movie distributed? How do you combat piracy? How do you raise money and how do you market a small independent film when the competition has $50 million to spend on a marketing campaign?

He also answers a central question -- and young, independent filmmakers in places all over the country outside of LA should pay attention to this: Do you need to be in Los Angeles to have a career in the movies?

Harris is voluble, blunt, likable and smart -- he's a New Yorker. When he talks about the movies he's obviously onto a topic that he's in love with, after all these years, and one that he knows intimately. He's also a man on the go. "I’m on my way to Vermont -- I’m making this ski movie in Vermont," he said when we first got him on the phone. "I flew into Manchester (NH) last week and drove up to a ski resort to discuss shooting the movie at their resort."

He adds: "In the meantime" -- in the meantime! -- "I’m gearing up to do a lacrosse film in about eight weeks."

So we grabbed a little time with Harris while we could.

He was clear-eyed about the challenges facing independent film today. While the obituary for the small, character-based film has been written, and published, many times now, Harris doesn't see things that way. He sees a future where people will always go to the movie theater to see some films, and he sees a time when the obstacles to getting small films made and seen by audiences will eventually break down.

Harris adds a strong note of caution to filmmakers: the only way any of this will work is if your movie is any good.

"What I suffered from early in my career was that I was just so desperate to be part of the movies and be part of the dance that I didn’t think about who was going to see it and what was going to happen to it in the end," he said. "I have to say, when I approach movies now, it really comes with a much heavier marketing perspective. I think that applies to big broad films and it applies to niche films."

Harris then asks a rhetorical question that every aspiring filmmaker should ask themselves before they spend their own or their family's hard earned money on an independent project: "Who in the world makes a product without thinking how they're going to market and advertise it? Only filmmakers. Even if it is finished -- what do you do with it? That’s a substantial issue out there," he said.

The issue of getting a film seen is not quite centered on the quality of the film, according to Harris. It's also a question of how open the pipeline is between inventory and the audience. Can your project squeeze through? Harris doesn't think the issue has been fully resolved yet.

"What’s happened -- the first thing that’s happened -- is that the filmmaking process became democratized, because of the accesibility of the tools. It started with editing and then it became shooting digitally. It became easier for anyone to make a movie," said Harris. "The bad news is that here is a lag time in the distribution world in trying to catch up. There is still a chokehold on getting mainstream distribution of a film. I think what’s happening is there is becoming two film worlds. There is the $50 million to $100 million movie world and then there is the other world -- which is a much smaller. The good news is that the distribution model is catching up."

There are places now to see films on the Internet and home distribution models such as Netflix (streaming right into your flatscreen) that are able to give smaller films a shot at finding an audience.

There's another duality to this democratization, of course, as Harris readily admits. Having access to filmmaking equipment, much in the same way that people can publish whatever they want online, or produce CDs in their basements, doesn't necessarily mean that what is created is any good.

"It’s like blogging, which is my least favorite adjective, verb, noun of the 21st century, because, suddenly, everyone can voice their opinion by just banging on the keyboard like a monkey," Harris said. "It necessarily dilutes the entire pool. Just because you can broadcast what you do doesn’t necessarily mean it should be broadcast. That can be applied to the movies."

There is also a formidable foe to making money in the movies, and it is one that is familiar to anyone who has seen an FBI warning at the beginning of a DVD or seen one of those jangly videos at the beginning of a film declaring that piracy is the same as stealing an old lady's pocketbook.

"Can you monetize film online as opposed to just ripping them off the way they do with music? Fortunately, films are much bigger files and are a little bit harder to steal, but still a day after a film is released in the US -- and sometimes before -- there’s a pirate on the streets of Beijing," said Harris. "So the intellectual property landscape is the wild west and its very exciting but it’s also daunting. I don’t know the facts and figures -- you’d have to ask Christopher Dodd (now running the Motion Picture Association of America), but the numbers on piracy are just stunning, just stunning. There’s an exciting future in independent film but what needs to catch up is the monetizing and how in an increasingly fluid digital world people can make sure their intellectual property is not stolen. That’s really the key."

Harris adds, only half-jokingly, "I wish I was in the cyber security business because you're talking about an industry that’s going to be huge in the next few decades." At the same time, the future does not lie solely within the confines of the computer monitor or the flatscreen TV.

"I still think there is a world where movie-going will remain popular and remain an event. People don’t want to stay home all the time. I just helped make 'The Kids Are All Right' -- and frankly, I’m glad that people went to see it in the theaters, but that movie would play just fine if you you watch it on your laptop in bed or on a plane. It really would. Whereas ‘Avatar” or ‘Thor’ probably needs to be seen in the movies. That’s why people keep paying 10 or 15 bucks in a theater. Who the hell wants to watch 'Titanic' on a wristwatch?"

Harris mentions something that is close to the heart of many movie-goers, and that is the pathetic state of the movie-going experience itself. Theaters today are cavernous, cold -- both physically and emotionally -- the acoustics are bad and the image sometimes doesn't fit the screen. Harris thinks that needs to be addressed.

"We have got to get clever about creating a premium service," he said. "I think that we’ve got to find ways to keep the experience of seeing film somehow unique and fresh. That’s why theaters have a lot of catching up to do. There are premium theaters, of course. For me, it’s worth it to pay the two extra bucks to go to the ArcLight Theater and have my seats and not have to wait an hour in advance and fight my way through the crowd. I like buying my seats online."

But until that time arrives, even though it may be sooner than later, Harris concedes that the challenges of marketing a smaller movie to the general public will take stamina and creativity.

When he's asked about this Harris sighs, and pauses for a second.

“You know, I hate to worship at the altar of new media, but I don’t see any other way. Five years ago of course I wasn’t on Facebook, three years ago I got on grudgingly. Now, I spend 30 to 60 minutes a day on it. Where did that time come from? At the expense of what? It’s got to be embedded in the whole marketing process. How much time do I spend getting my followers up? I’ve got 7,000 people following my lacrosse film "Crooked Arrows." If you go to "Crooked Arrows" on Facebook or CrookedArrows.com, you’ll see that I take considerable time and resources to make it all really appealing. I’ve hired a social networking person. Five years ago this didn’t even exist but now you need a social media guru. Traditional marketing has really changed. The first thing you do when you get an article in the paper is that you put it online. You put it on Facebook."

Harris mentions the online buildup that led to the success of the tiny "The Blair Witch Project" more than a decade ago. People are still trying to recapture that kind of marketing magic.

"What I learned from “Bottle Shock" (2008) is that if you’re not going to do a branded project you need to know who your audience is, you need to bring that audience along with you for months, sometimes years, before you actually deliver the product. I’ve been on Facebook with "Crooked Arrows" for a year. I have 7,000 followers on it now and I’m hoping like hell that I wind up with 50,000 or 100,000 followers by the time the movie opens (scheduled for spring 2012)."

The idea of a "branded project" is one that Harris is taking to a new level on the independent film scene with his company Branded Pictures Entertainment (www.brandedpicturesentertainment.com). The world knows about all the blockbuster tentpole studio films that have been made from known brands. Harris is doing this now with smaller films that he hopes will be embraced by a large audience.

"The philosophy behind Branded Pictures Entertainment is a recognition and embracing of the reality of what’s happening. If you look at the top 10 grossing films every year, for the last 10 years, eight or nine are based on a brand. If you look at the top 100 grossing films each year, probably 80 or 90 percent are based on a brand. I’m very very wide open about what that brand can be -- based on a book, a game, a toy, a theme park ride, a song, a poem -- anything like that," said Harris.

The philosophy is straightforward:

"With all the noise in the marketplace a brand stands out. "Sherlock Holmes" is one of my favorite examples. "Sherlock Holmes" was this dusty old thing about a guy with a funny hat and a pipe and the next thing you know is that Guy Ritchie is directing it and he’s spending 150 million dollars on it. It’s got Robert Downey Jr. and Jude Law and the thing is rockin'. It’s also 'Pirates of the Carribean' -- a ridiculously old Disney theme park ride that now doesn’t feel old anymore."

All of these are franchises with huge global sales.

"If I told you 20 years ago that Transformers, this toy from Hasbro, was going to be a multibillion franchise you would have laughed me out of the room. Or Marvel. You couldn’t give away Marvel Comics 20 years ago. To me, having some recognition in the marketplace is half the battle," he said. "So my idea with Branded Pictures Entertainment is to take these brands and dust them off and refurbish them."

Harris mentions that just about any brand with some name recognition is ripe for its own movie: "They’re making a movie out of 'Monopoly.' Their making a movie out of (the game) 'Candyland.' They’re making a movie out of frickin’ Magic Eight Ball!'" Harris laughs not only because it's funny but also because of the possibilities.

"One of the things I’m doing is making a movie out of the lost diaries of Don Juan. Don Juan is a brand. So even on an art-house level there is a branding approach. Think of Jane Eyre. I'll develop 100 titles and hopefully 10 will get made," said Harris. "I’ll get the title. I’ll get the screenplay and put together a film package and after I've done all the groundwork I’ll go to the producers who have big deals, and they can go off and make the movie. Perhaps one of them will turn into "Transformers." What I hope is that I hit a couple of doubles and a couple of triples and maybe one out of the park."

Harris had a pretty good run at the plate last year. He was an executive producer on the Oscar-nominated "The Kids Are All Right", written and directed by Lisa Cholodenko, and was involved in the rethink of the 1978 B-movie "Piranha."

He said he played two very different roles for each feature.

"Lisa (Cholodenko) had two or three very high quality films, small films ("High Art", "Laurel Canyon"), and she wanted to make 'Kids' for 15 million dollars. Then she wanted to make it for 8 million and at the end of the day she made it for 4 1/2 million," said Harris. He said the producers were having some difficulty raising money.

"For 'Kids', I wish I could take credit for coming up with the idea, and being best friends with Lisa Cholodenko and getting my best friends Annette Bening and Julianne Moore to be in the film. But that’s really not how it was," said Harris. "I was friends with one of the producers and they needed some money. I found them some at the last second so I got an executive producer credit and a small fee. That's the truth behind that."

The movie grossed $35 million at the box office, and garnered four Academy Award nominations, including Best Picture.

"I did get to go to the Oscars this year for the first time and even though I know it was a dull Oscar show in the pantheon of Oscar shows, in my view even if you've never had sex before even mediocre sex is good," Harris said, laughing. "I got in my tux. I walked around, I had nice seats. I had a reason to go so it was good."

Lightning can strike in the movie business. But the movie business is so unpredictable and fickle that even if you do your homework you may not score well on the test.

"Piranha 3D" from last year is a case in point.

"'Piranha' was something I developed for three years. I got somebody to spec the screenplay and I told everybody about this hot young French director (Alexandre Aja). I got the Weinstein Company involved, I got (producer) Mark Canton involved," he said.

The first approach as a straight horror film wasn't working out when some good fortune struck: Harris's choice of director, Aja, made the well-received remake of "The Hills Have Eyes", and he was suddenly a hot property. The film company returned to the concept of turning "Piranha" into a horror-comedy. The film went on to make about $35 million domestically, but Harris was disappointed at this performance.

"It really didn't perform the way I thought it would," said Harris, but added the film "really is a huge guilty pleasure. Where else can you see severed penises and silicon breasts being eaten by fish? And Richard Dreyfuss and Jerry O'Connell and Elisabeth Shue, who is a serious actress in the middle of this horror film? These are thrills you can't buy with American money. But I was disappointed the film wasn't a bigger hit."

For many filmmakers across the country, the holy grail of independent filmmaking is still the Sundance Film Festival in Park City, Utah. Sundance is now more than 30 years old. It has seen reverses to its reputation, and it has been rehabbed more than once. Harris believes Sundance still has value.

"When I took "Bottle Shock" out there, there were only three films sold. Last year there were 25, 30 films sold, so I think it still has value. There's a part of Sundance that has become incredibly crass and commercial, but I still think that's only 10 or fifteen percent of the Festival" said Harris. "At the rest of the festival you have documentaries and movies you wouldn't see anywhere else. But show me something that hasn't been bastardized to some degree and I'll show you something that no one has ever heard of."

There was one more idea -- a big idea -- floated about 20 years ago. It was that unknown filmmakers could take their credit card, make a feature, and get it picked up by a major studio. This happened to an unknown filmmaker named Richard Linklater when he made a tiny film called "Slacker" that won the Grand Jury Prize at Sundance in 1991. It had a budget of $23,000 and came out of Austin, Texas.

Then, just four years later, New Yorker Ed Burns made a feature film called "The Brothers McMullen" (1995) that went on to in multiple prizes at Sundance and to gross millions on a budget of $28,000. Filmmakers with a credit card, and money from family and friends were off and running. Not only did the number of filmmakers explode, the number of film festivals started to increase exponentially. (There was also "The Blair Witch Project", made in Maryland, which went global in 1999.)

The idea was fixed: you don't have to be in LA to get a studio deal. But Harris had a twist to this notion.

"You have to have at least a foot in the water here (LA). Or you have to be willing to spend some time here, or have a partner here. Honestly, that's a lot of what I do with people in Boston, in other parts of the world. I become their guy in LA," said Harris. "You don't have to live here, but you either have to have somebody who does, or you have to cop to the idea of spending some time here. If you're not here knocking on doors then you're not going to be taken seriously."

Getting a film off the ground is not a part-time endeavor, said Harris.

"What people forget is that every time someone calls someone in LA, that person is trying to make a buck, too. Every phone call, every interaction, every minute of the day, the question is: Is this interaction making me any money?" he said. "It's not any different from any other business. Nobody wants to see a half-baked business plan from somebody they've never heard of. It's all about who is making the recommendations."

Harris offered an example of how this can work: "I have this little film that I'm making in Georgia, in Atlanta, with a Georgia filmmaker. I'm raising money from the hinterland, but I said let's have auditions in LA with a casting director that I've used before," said Harris. "I'll tell people we don't have all the money, but I had half a dozen real actors come in, and I've cast one of them and now I'm doing the movie around him. It's all about building credibility. Whether it's you or someone on the ground for you, you need to have some credibility."

He laughed and then said, "After 37 movies, I think I finally have some."

--

For more on "Crooked Arrows," visit crookedarrows.com.

Watch the teaser for "Crooked Arrows" below:

Snapshots of Street Art

noreply@blogger.com (Roundtable Pictures) — Mon, 13 Jun 2011 10:43:00 +0000

Here's a look at our five short videos featuring the street artists who recently visited Portsmouth, NH, as part of the Portsmouth Museum of Fine Art's street art exhibition. The videos can be seen at the museum during its Street A.K.A Museum exhibit through September. For more information on the exhibit and museum, visit http://www.portsmouthmfa.org/portsmouthmfa/exhibition.html.

Kubrick and Kelly In 'The Box'

noreply@blogger.com (Roundtable Pictures) — Wed, 01 Jun 2011 20:47:00 +0000

By Lars Trodson

The confluence of Richard Kelly, the creator of “Donnie Darko”, and Stanley Kubrick is a compelling one, but it doesn’t seem that the convoluted psycho-sci-fi thriller “The Box” was the right venue for the combination.

The Kubrick flourishes that can be seen in “The Box” (from 2009) don’t seem terribly organic to the kind of story being told. Kubrick, of course, could tell any kind of story in any kind of style he wanted. That was his business. But if you’re going to copy a style as distinct and as famous as the one Kubrick formed in the films between “2001: A Space Odyssey” and “Eyes Wide Shut” I think there had better be a pretty good reason for it.

The only reason I can think of why Kelly conjured up Kubrick in "The Box" was because maybe, unfortunately, he didn’t have any visual ideas of his own. The Kubrick found in “The Box” seems to be both random and not, in the end, quite enough. Either go all in or let it go. In “The Box”, it’s somewhere in between.

Still, it’s an interesting trip if you’re into this kind of cinematic puzzle. I found almost a dozen Kubrick cues in “The Box.” Maybe you can find more. Or maybe I’ve made connections that aren't there. Here’s the list:

    •    The cheerless Christmas atmosphere -- Found in “Eyes Wide Shut” (1999)

    •    Big, creepy mansions -- “Eyes Wide Shut” and “The Shining” (1980)

    •    Oval overhead sectional hanging light fixture -- Seen in “Dr. Strangelove” (1964)

    •    Snowy landscape -- “The Shining”

    •    The “Kubrick look.” (Head tilted down with eyes looking up and out, distantly.) -- Everything between “2001: A Space Odyssey” to “Full Metal Jacket” (1987). I can't find it in "Eyes Wide Shut"

    •    Obligatory bathroom scene. Just about everything, it seems, including “Spartacus” (1960).

    •    Gaudy wallpaper. Reminiscent of what can be seen in P & M’s apartment in “A Clockwork Orange” (1971)

    •    Kid with a bowl haircut who is randomly victimized. “The Shining”

    •     Strange baroque room interiors -- “2001” and “Eyes Wide Shut”

    •    Glacially paced conversations -- “Lolita” (1962), “2001”, “Clockwork”, “Barry Lyndon” (1975), “The Shining”, “Full Metal Jacket”, “Eyes Wide Shut”

    •    Sideways tracking shots -- Everything from “Clockwork” through “Eyes Wide Shut”

Marilyn Monroe - Born June 1, 1926

noreply@blogger.com (Roundtable Pictures) — Wed, 01 Jun 2011 17:38:00 +0000

A Bad Trend On The Horizon For Independent Film

noreply@blogger.com (Roundtable Pictures) — Sun, 29 May 2011 19:09:00 +0000

By Lars Trodson

I wanted to go to the movies today, but I have a problem. A big problem. I live in New Hampshire. Over the years I’ve grumbled slightly that most of the movies that I really want to see never arrive here. Or they arrive months later to play at the one of the local art houses, but by then I’ve probably seen the thing on another format. Or, worse, I've simply forgotten about it.

Maybe that’s the strategy for these smaller movies. Give them a limited release, get all the press you can in the big markets, and milk everything you can out of the home release.

But what it does, of course, is make me not go to the movies. I'm beginning to not even know what's out there, and this might be a problem for movies in general as we move away from renting movies from the video store to just ordering the movie online.

The release of a movie to the theaters now only really serves as a marketing function for the later home release. It may make a helluva lot of money in the month that it's in theaters, but that's nothing to the huge numbers it'll potentially pull down when you can view the thing at home.

After all, even if a movie makes a $100 million at the box office in its first weekend, that means fewer than 10 million people (domestic alone) have seen it. With 350 million people in the U.S. alone, never mind foreign markets, it still means that most people haven't even seen a HIT film by the time it's available on Netflix or OnDemand.

But there might be a gap in this marketing plan. If a movie doesn't even come to a place like New Hampshire, and I can't see it on the shelf at the local video store to remind me that a certain small movie was even made, then how will I know to choose it when it's only available online?

I think, then, there is going to be an even wider gap between the blockbusters and the smaller movies than there is now.

We have something called the Regal Fox Run Stadium 15 here in Newington, NH. It is a phenomenally ugly movie theater, with a lobby that resembles a decrepit ice skating rink. It’s all concrete, bad acoustics, video games and monstrous pop-up marketing items designed to scream THOR! with a giant cardboard hammer coming at you. It makes me not want to go to the movies. But I'll go if I want to see something.

"Midnight in Paris"

So I wanted to see “Midnight In Paris” recently -- the best reviewed movie of his late career. Or I wanted to see Terrence Malick’s “The Tree of Life”, which recently took the Palme D’Or at the Cannes Film Festival.

So I go to Fandango to see what times these movies are playing. I should have known. “The Tree of Life” was only opening in LA or New York, but Woody’s movie was in wide release more than a week ago, and of course it was not in New Hampshire.

What was in New Hampshire were multiple screens showing “Pirates of the Carribbean”, the fourth installment of that franchise. There was “Thor” -- which I am sure is a franchise in the making. There was something called “Something Borrowed.” There was something called “Rio The Movie”, the title of which I am sure gives this cartoon some much needed stature. There was, of course, the monster “The Hangover Part II” -- a sequel lacking even a funny sequel title. There was “Kung Fu Panda 2” -- which I don’t think I’d appreciate because I missed “Kung Fu Panda 1.”

(I am almost certain that the highest function of a movie like “Kung Fu Panda 2” is to provide a much-needed shot in the arm for Jack Black, who was last not seen in the 3-D “Gulliver’s Travels”, and who has slummed his way through roles ever since his truly brilliant turn in “School of Rock.” But he better get on the stick quick because I don’t think “Kung Fu Panda 3” will do the trick.)

There was also the long-anticipated “Priest 3D” which is projected to lead the pack when Oscar nominations come out early next year. There was a movie you can’t really call a sequel because it seems to be just a remake of the other movies in the same series: “Fast Five.” There is “Bridesmaids” -- a movie I can’t seem to find a reason to go to, and there is perhaps the one adult film in the bunch, “Water For Elephants”, but I’m not sure I want to go see that when I read that Robert Pattinson said he “cried” after doing a love scene with Reese Witherspoon. I lost all interest.

"Priest"

There wasn't a small independent or truly indiosyncratic movie in the bunch. I probably won't see any of these even when they're available at home. And when I read about all the foreign films and smaller American films in the movie section of the New York Times, I know they'll never get here. And then I literally, quite literally, forget about them so I don't rent them later. They're just gone from my mind.

This is a trend I think we're going to have to watch out for in the future. Because if the little movies -- with no exposure at the box office and no exposure in the new release section at your local video store -- can't literally be seen, where are you going to hear about it? What's going to jar your memory to rent it?

And if these small movies don't even make any money on their home release, fewer and fewer will get made, or they will get made by a premium cable channel such as HBO, furthering diminishing why we even have movies in the first place.

noreply@blogger.com (Roundtable Pictures) — Thu, 24 Mar 2011 15:06:00 +0000

Hollywood Needs Real People

noreply@blogger.com (Roundtable Pictures) — Fri, 18 Mar 2011 10:37:00 +0000

The Polar Express

By Lars Trodson

One of my favorite headlines (that I wrote back when I was a newspaper editor) was for a review of the movie version of “The Polar Express.” We had a local reviewer who didn’t like the film. “Last Train To Creepyville” is what I called it, and it was a reaction to the widely derided, yet early, process known as “performance capture” that was being developed by Robert Zemeckis. Everyone was talking about the “dead eye” syndrome. Performance capture couldn’t give any life to the eyes of the characters. Everybody in that supposedly charming family film looked like a ghoul.

The latest project to bear the imprimatur of this process is “Mars Needs Moms”, which I gather was received with universal ennui when it was released to theaters last week. “A Christmas Carol” with Jim Carrey is also a Zemeckis piece of machinery, and that didn’t fare too well, either.

Now comes word, on the heels of the “Mars Needs Moms” debacle, that the company run by Zemeckis to create more performance capture films has been shuttered by Disney, and a planned 3-D remake of the Beatles’ “Yellow Submarine” has been shitcanned.

Mars Needs Moms

I have never been a fan of this technology. I actually never understood it -- given the whole eye problem and everything. I’m a huge fan of computer animation -- it was a corrective to the hideous photocopied crap that had taken over television and the movies. That stuff wasn’t charming or quaint; it was just cheap. Computer graphics brought lushly conceived backgrounds and characters that moved with fluidity and grace and, with continued advances in that field, still works quite beautifully. Just look at Pixar, naturally.

But "performance capture" seemed redundant and vapid. I suppose Zemeckis -- who put CGI effects to good use in that monstrosity called “Forrest Gump” (can Oscars be rescinded?) -- was trying to be on the cutting edge of something, and that was why he was moving ahead with performance capture.

As cynical as we may be about audiences today, they don’t fall for just anything. And audiences have been telling Zemeckis and his crew that they really aren’t clamoring for the next performance capture endeavor. Now with "Mars Needs Moms" on the verge of being a box office calamity, he has been told definitively.

Motion-capture technology was
used to create Gollum in
The Lord of the Rings trilogy.

The other thing I never understood was why actors would welcome this technology. Jim Carrey famously “starred” in last year’s “A Christmas Carol.” Technicians captured his body movements and then used his voice, of course.

But what if the next development was to use someone else’s body movements and only use the voice of the actor? What would be the point? And where would that lead?

I for one am glad to see that this adventure in performance capture has at least been put on hold. Movies today are soulless enough. They don’t need to be dead-eyed, too.

NY Times Fail

noreply@blogger.com (Roundtable Pictures) — Mon, 14 Mar 2011 22:39:00 +0000

The New York Times gave up some prime real estate in its Arts & Leisure section this past Sunday to talk about the new crop of tough women law enforcement characters now on TV.

The problem? The guy writing the piece talked only to male producers of the shows. Couldn't he have tracked down on of the actors that the article was actually about?

Read the fail here:

http://www.nytimes.com/2011/03/13/arts/television/women-bring-the-beatings-to-ncis-and-elsewhere.html

-- LT

'True Grit' vs. 'True Grit': Which One Should Your Pre-Teen Watch?

noreply@blogger.com (Roundtable Pictures) — Sun, 06 Mar 2011 14:29:00 +0000

By Lars Trodson

We live in an age that is the oddest combination: we allow everything and anything to be said or done in public while we feign a kind of Elizabethan prudishness about it all. No swearing on TV, we’re American! Isn’t that Charlie Sheen a mess? But what’s he saying now, I wonder?

At a time when mainstream movies are inching toward more and more explicit sex -- not sexiness, mind you, but sex -- Melissa Leo can’t say “fuck” on the Oscars.

This was brought home to me the other day when I picked up a DVD of the 1969 John Wayne version of “True Grit.” To my surprise, that movie is rated “G” -- that is, for general audiences, just like the kind of movie Disney used to make.

Given that the Coen brothers new version is not so much a reimagining of the Charles Portis novel as it is a simple remake of the Henry Hathaway movie, I wondered what it was rated. The answer: PG-13.

Both movies are virtually the same. I can remember one outright cuss, the ever acceptable “son of a bitch”, which is uttered in both versions. There’s no sex in either movie. I would venture to say that, aside from one shot of Moon’s fingers getting cut off in the Coen version there is exactly the same amount of violence, and about the same amount of blood. The Coens ratcheted way down their penchant for grisliness. I will say that old Rooster Cogburn’s drinking is overplayed in the Wayne version.

To my eyes, the Coen brothers version is actually tamer. Think of this: The hanging scene in the 1969 version takes place in a town square, not in the barren, dusty landscape in the Coen version. In Hathaway’s movie, people are singing hymns as the men get lined up for the noose. There are kids on swings. There are families parked in their buggies to watch the afternoon entertainment. There’s a boy selling peanuts. This version is much more disturbing than what the Coen brothers did with it, and yet this version is okay for kids, apparently.

So why does this version, in what we would often think of as a much less permissive time, receive a G rating and the new one, released in the freewheeling world of Internet porn and R-rated TV, get a PG-13?

I don’t think it’s marketing, because people don't any attention whatsoever to ratings any more. We just live in a time when we no longer know what is acceptable, and what is not.

Chris Decato Music

noreply@blogger.com (Roundtable Pictures) — Thu, 03 Mar 2011 18:44:00 +0000

New Hampshire-based musician Chris Decato has some new tracks out. One of the most talented writers and players around, Chris's music would enhance your next movie, play or video production.

Take a listen here and give him a call:

http://alonetone.com/chrisdecato08/tracks

-- LT

Anne Hathaway Steals The Show

noreply@blogger.com (Roundtable Pictures) — Tue, 01 Mar 2011 01:00:00 +0000

By Lars Trodson

It seems a bit paradoxical that in order to capture some of that youthful demographic the Academy Awards show was looking for that they had to turn to one of the few stars in Hollywood that has some of that old school glamour.

That would be Anne Hathaway.

It is certain -- yes, irrefutable -- that she was surrounded by movie people of increasingly dim wattage. James Franco, God bless him, was an absolute stiff. That Matthew McConnaughey/Scarlett Johansson routine was cringe-inducing. And Randy Newman? Best song? Really? For a moment I thought it was 1951.

But Hathaway had charm and grace and a beautiful smile and her enthusiastic high-fiving of the kids from P.S. 22 out of New York City was worth the price of admission alone. She was natural and unlike almost every other person who went on stage - aside from Kirk Douglas and Tom Hanks -- she seemed to be having a good time. There was one other guy -- the guy who won the short narrative film category. He was great. "I should've gotten a haircut!"

Mila Kunis didn't seem to understand her cue cards. And there was that awful moment when Francis Ford Coppola, Eli Wallach and Kevin Brownlow walked out on stage, stood like a group of befuddled mannequins, and watched as the stage went dark around them.

Let me get this straight. You bring Coppola out on stage and have him say nothing? You have Eli Wallach, who has worked with Kazan, Leone, Eastwood and everybody else -- you have him say nothing? He was the guy who was trying to kill the Magnificent Seven, for God's sake! You have Brownlow, one of the pre-eminent silent film preservationists, and he can't say a few words about film history? I know he's into silent film, but you can have the guy talk.

Oh, well. The 2011 Oscars just didn't feel like a Hollywood show. It felt like a TV lineup.

Except for Anne Hathaway. Thank God for her. Long may she reign.

The Birth Of The Micro-Audience

noreply@blogger.com (Roundtable Pictures) — Mon, 21 Feb 2011 14:51:00 +0000

By Lars Trodson

The New York Times is wondering if long-form blogging is going the way of the written letter. It is Twitter and Facebook that are claiming the attention of young people, the newspaper tells us, putting at risk the health of people who want to try to express themselves in essays longer than 140 characters.

So many media outlets have declared so many things as “dead” in the past decade, you begin to wonder why anyone would listen anymore. Marriage, TV sitcoms, the novel, your local theater, etc. so forth and so on and all dead dead dead. It’s like actually paying attention to a meteorologist here in New England: What’s the point?

The heart of the issue -- for The Times http://www.nytimes.com/2011/02/21/technology/internet/21blog.html?hp -- is that blogging has fallen out of favor with the young. The article cites a Pew Research Center report that states that blogging among 12-17 year olds fell by half between 2006 and 2009, and that blogging for 18 - 33 year olds fell by two percentage points (!) http://www.pewinternet.org/Reports/2010/Generations-2010.aspx.

Few other details are given, but I’ll bet, one, that many of the precocious 12 year olds who started a blog got as far as exactly one posting and then gave up. This is hard work. I imagine the other reason so many other blogs have fallen by the wayside is because there are a lot of people who think they have a lot to say when they don’t really have anything to say at all -- that, or they just don’t know how to express themselves. To get to the computer every once in a while to write an essay about something you’ve given some thought to requires concentration and stamina.

Also, and this may be important to the young people, you don’t really have to worry about grammar and syntax in 140 characters.

Here’s the other reason why people have stopped blogging, according to The Times: “Former bloggers said they were too busy to write lengthy posts and were uninspired by a lack of readers.”

Lack of readers. I think that the inspiration for many, many blogs was the idea that you’d start a blog and very quickly get bought out by a major corporation or you’d get a book deal. That’s not to say this hasn’t happened, but its almost as mythical as the idea that your $25,000 independent film is going to get optioned by some major studio. In real life, it just doesn’t happen. And so, after a year or so of doing book reviews, or movie reviews, or writing about poetry, the inspiration wears off. You look at your Google metrics and see that you’ve been visited by exactly 64 people in the past month.

What’s the point?

And so, I think, those writers are opting to go the social networking route, where their audience is targeted to a very specific number of the people -- their “friends.” And, because of the interactive nature of sites like Facebook, they are bound to receive the kind of reader response that makes them feel as though they are at least getting through to someone. There is no longer that deafening silence.

So writing, among the young, may in fact be targeted in the future to these micro-audiences. Writers will be writing specifically for their peers and friends, without any interest in whether anyone understands or cares about is being said.

But blogging, even if you look at the numbers cited in the Pew report, is not dead. Blogging adheres to a kind of Darwinian principal: the strong survive.

We’re happy to say that Roundtable Pictures is coming up on its fourth anniversary and we’re more popular than ever. Our readership keeps growing, and when people visit the site they rummage around to see what we’ve done in the past. They stay awhile.

We don’t necessarily cater to any specific age group here, nor do we just concentrate on one medium. We’ve done a little bit of everything over the years and we always do it as well as we can. We’re also one of the only sites that writes reviews of movies and then posts our own films so that we’re subject to the same kind of scrutiny and criticism we sometimes give to others. It’s an honest and far exchange.

It’s a little early for us to be celebrating our birthday here at Roundtable, but it was good time for us to say thank all of you who have taken the time to visit us over the years and that we’re looking forward to a long and continued conversation with our readers.

True Grit Redux

noreply@blogger.com (Roundtable Pictures) — Sun, 13 Feb 2011 12:19:00 +0000

By Lars Trodson

Outside of framing device used to open and close the film, I have no idea how the Coen brothers version of “True Grit” differs materially from the 1969 John Wayne movie. It just simply doesn’t add up that this new version embodies some new vision of the story -- or that it has been reimagined in some unique way. In fact, the bulk of both movies are remarkably the same, and I would argue that some of the scenes played out in the Coen version are weaker than in Henry Hathaway’s.

It’s true, yes, that the Coens open up with Maddie Ross, now well into middle age, reflecting back on the murder of her father and her meeting with Rooster Cogburn. It ends with Maddie seeking Rooster out, in what must have been at the end of a very long life.

But these two sections alone do not, as the Coens have asserted, put the movie squarely on the shoulders of 14-year old Maddie - which what they have said makes it different than the Wayne version. The 1969 movie was all about Rooster. This version is all about Mattie.

Not really; not at all. Yes, Rooster was played by the outsized Wayne in what turned out to be his Oscar-winning role. But you can almost see Jeff Bridges trying not to do too much with the role here. It’s a square, solid performance, but you can tell that Bridges knew that if he strayed too far, if he tried anything radical, audiences just wouldn’t accept it. He knew he was in shadow of Wayne, and he let it go.

Mattie, as played by Hailee Steinfeld, does a lovely job. But simply casting an age appropriate actress in the film doesn’t tip the balance in favor of a wholesale remake. Hailee does not erase the image of Kim Darby, who did a beautiful job in that earlier movie, and their parts seem equal in both versions. In fact, I can’t think of any really important scenes focusing on Mattie that we get to see in the Coens’ movie that were ignored in Hathaway’s. It just isn’t there.

There are some scenes, of course, that are virtually the same. Take the great early scene in which Mattie sells some ponies back to a merchant. That merchant was played by the great, quirky character actor Strother Martin in the first version and by Dakin Matthews in the second. The first version is much funnier, much snappier -- and the dialogue is almost wholly lifted from the Portis book in each. The Coen brothers version of this scene is just not as good.

After that, from the moment Rooster takes off on his own without Mattie, and she jumps in the river to catch up, from the tracking of Lucky Ned Pepper (Barry Pepper now and Robert Duvall in the earlier), to the murder of Moon in the cabin (which is much, much more exciting, violent and eerie in the Hathaway version and has Dennis Hopper, to boot), to the final showdown in the field when Rooster yells “Fill your hands, you son of a bitch!”, the two movies are bizarrely similar.

It is true that Glen Campbell was a horrible choice to play LaBoeuf in the first version -- a concession to his pop music success and probably some insurance as to whether Wayne could bring in the young people -- but I just can’t find any evidence that the Coens did anything other than make a solid version of a very fine book. They did not add anything new to it. All they did was be smart enough to add a public relations spin on why they decided to make a new version of a movie classic. They traded in on the earlier version’s immense good will in a savvy way.

Good for the Coens. But as they garner more awards for their “True Grit” and its box office tally continues to grow, rather than try to sweep aside the debt they owe Henry Hathaway and John Wayne and Kim Darby, they probably ought to start to acknowledge it.