The Kid From Reed's Seeds, Part Two

The Kid From Reed's Seeds, Part One

Two years ago, the original Hollywood Farmer came back to town to thank his high school AV teacher, who was retiring that year, for giving him his start. He also took the time to impart to the young graduates in attendance the wisdom of his experience "Sitting in those same chairs, in those same robes," he told them, "my friends and I pretty much thought we had it all figured out. I have spent every day since then learning how wrong I was."

His mention moments earlier of his recent meetings with "high-ranking Chinese officials" now makes me wonder whether by that time he had already figured out that Disney would soon be exporting/exiling him to China to attend to the world's biggest market. Or whether he had foreseen the upcoming regime change in the Mouse House that would result in the reduction of one of H'wood's reputedly most thoughtful and personable execs to a cog in Disney's world-cultural-domination machine.

Just as admirable as Reed's taking time-out to say thank-you to the man who taught him to look toward Hollywood from the hayloft was his choice of subject in his address to the graduates. Quoth the USC philosophy major: "Philosopher and theologians have spent centuries debating the matter of how to find happiness. So I thought, 'If the greatest minds in human history can't come up with an answer, why doesn't the kid from Reed's Seeds give it a shot?'" A noble endeavor. I think he deserves at least an A for effort.

O fortuna, valet luna, statu variabilis. Or to quote the poet Solon: "A man cannot be called happy until he is dead." Unless one can be happy in the midst of statu variabilis.

Battlefield Eaarth

Like I said, I have to keep a hand in this. Because the storm may already be here.

The most visible change is what’s happening to ice around the world. But probably the most important is what’s happening to liquid water. Warm air holds a lot more water vapor than cold, so you get a lot more evaporation in dry areas, and hence more drought. Even easier to measure, and more troubling, is the fact that what goes up must come down, and what’s coming down are these intense precipitation events.

In the book, I describe the rainfalls in my small town in Vermont — record floods that cut us off from the rest of the world. But that’s happening around the world almost every day now. The 100-year storm comes three times a decade in a lot of places. Stuff like that is sobering, not only because it demonstrates how out of balance things are, but also because the consequences of a world run amuck are not to be taken lightly.

Lately, in the U.S. as a whole, local and regional action has reached more than a level of experimentation. The number of farms across the country is growing for the first time in a century and a quarter, with 300,000 new farms this decade. The one business that boomed in the last two years was seeds — Burpee Seeds was up 40 percent or something. There’s an awful lot of land in American suburbs currently devoted to growing grass, often with lavish infusions of fertilizer and chemicals. Turn some of that energy and resources toward growing vegetables, and you’re getting somewhere.

The Deadstock Chronicles, Part I

A stray dog killed two-thirds of our chickens.

We get more eggs now.

It's a metaphor for something.

FOOTNOTE: The original Hollywood Farmer has moved (or rather, been re-located) to China. There's a new Hollywood farmer in Tinseltown. OK, in San Diego. As near as, anyway.

DIY Footnote

OpenIndie is, like the local foods movement, about localism. Both "proposals" feature neighbors, friends, communities looking to each other and the resources they have to hand and "next door" to provide for their own needs (growing food for their own tables, asking theaters to screen the films they want to see). Except that OpenIndie is not a member of any given community, and yet it would have to be accepted by a local exhibitor as something he can trust, as "someone" whose word he can bank on. OpenIndie might say that they're simply telling me, the exhibitor, how many people of my community are saying they want to see a certain film play in my theater... but am I going to sacrifice a booking or even a single screening of something that Disney or Universal has "vetted" for me (i.e., deemed bankable) for the sake of something that my neighbors say they want to see (based only on the trailer) but might not actually show up for and if they do might not build up word of mouth about because the film actually has limited (or even little to no) appeal?

When you look at a locally-grown organic tomato, you pretty much know on the spot the wonderfulness you're going to have on your salad or in your sauce. But does a good trailer mean you're going to get a good film? Somebody asked the OpenIndie fellow if any films would be rejected for any reason. I don't remember what the fellow said in response. But I do think one of the problems that may beset OpenIndie is one of vetting, of allaying exhibitor anxieties (e.g., "Universal is saying this film is bankable, they're doing the marketing and the distributing; who around here is doing the marketing for this film, and how do I know it's a good investment?"). Even if the members of the community were petitioning the exhibitor directly (handing in signatures, picketing, or otherwise making a stink), this wouldn't be a compelling argument for considering a film competitive.

It all reminds me of the other incarnation of the "revolving online media showcase" I was "pitching" at DIY Day -- this "other incarnation" being a sort of Metacritic for the undistributed, with those found "most worthy" having their trailers/clips/press featured on the front page, the "worthy" being judged so by the critical elite (e.g., from NYT, LAT, Chicago, David Denny from the New Yorker, David Edelstein from Slate, Andrew O'Hehir from Salon, David Bianculli from NPR), the members of which "elite" would review one selected "nowhere" film/webseries/et al. on DVD or online per month for the love of their chosen medium, because they do in fact love and watch all sorts of movies/TV/etc., and like the journalists they are would be pleased to break the story about the "next big thing"... which is just the sort of thing The Industry is anxious about missing. Hollywood always cares about "art" at Oscar-time, Edward Jay Epstein has observed, and who judges what is "art" but the critics? Might critical acclaim from the greats for the undistributed become a new source of industry buzz, like "the boards"? This may not be a community-centered model, but it might nevertheless help the DIYer.

OK, time to start plowing!

Local Film Might (and Should) Be Next

I just got finished posting that movies are a lost cause. Because of articles about industry leaders like this one. Cyrus is the best that the Duplass Brothers have yet offered, and they're among the very best that indie has to offer right now, but how many theaters will this play in? And so what hope is there for the rest of the world of filmmakers, especially for their all-important-for-your-morale debut effort?

Which is why I got up today and talked so earnestly about an idea for a start-up called film(yourcityhere).com -- a partnership with local governments to promote and even finance their local filmmakers, for the sake of promoting local culture, i.e., local coolness (sort of like our new local-foods market, which my wife founded, has done, at least in the opinion of our fair city). Kind of like winning the Super Bowl did for formerly-forsaken New Orleans. Local coolness could be even further served should the locally-made film highlight local businesses, landmarks, anything that says (yourcityhere). Cities/communities win, and every local filmmaker gets a chance to be spotlighted, not to mention find and support from their fellows.

A long time ago I made a short film in Ann Arbor, MI called God's-Eye View. It was my debut, and it wasn't genius, but it basically held together, and the PV's were decent. It showed at a "local filmmakers" show at the Michigan Theater. The next day one of the other filmmakers featured at the show emailed me to ask how I got that master overhead shot. It was a local connection with another filmmaker in my community (who wasn't a U of M student). It was cool, and something that could have kept somebody like me going (except I moved to upstate NY to start a farm -- and decided I wanted to write for TV, after starting to write for TV).

But of course giving moral support to filmmakers is not the only or even main reason for putting something like this forward. It's about getting films, more films, made and shown (and sold on DVD). Sort of like OpenIndie (one of the companies in the Incubator at DIY NYC) is trying to do. Everywhere else in the world, government financially supports all kinds of film. Why shouldn't we?

DIY Days FYI

THE HOLLYWOOD FARMER has a Vimeo channel.

Screenplay is Now a TV Pilot

because the guy I sent the screenplay to never called me back.

No, that's not true. It's because this is what it's supposed to be. It's fun instead of anguished. And Hurt Locker or no Hurt Locker, movies are a wasteland. (Except of course for this franchise from heaven.*) And I was a TV writer in my past life. And the pilot is a live-action/animation concept, which fits my profile as an animation writer.** And I've been writing specs in the hope of finding an agent, and agents wants to see pilots in spec packages right now.

Plus it's probably the best time to be an over-40 would-be 4GrownUpsTV writer than at any time in my over-40-year history.

Meanwhile, the greenhouse is working. Basically. But I have a lot to learn. Gotta keep a hand in this. Because there's still a storm coming. (So why try writing for TV? Two words: Counter-recessionary. At least for now.)


*And yet... Don Cheadle? He's brilliant but... I'm not buying him as War Machine. Hopefully not everyone saw Hotel Rwanda.

**They called the show a loss because it looked like it would be too costly because it looked like the card game would never make as much money as they wanted. After all, every self-respecting CEO has to be able to snap up a federally-seized penthouse apartment every once in a while...recession or no recession.

Blessed Trinity

Wes and Noah: Life Aquatic and Mr. Fox (Wes also "begetting," in a broadly paternal sense, The Squid and the Whale); Wes and Ben: Royal Tenenbaums; Noah and Ben: Greenberg.

Since we're talking Wes, and since my little pilot is a super-hero origin-story, this post would be sorely lacking without a mention of this:

End of from-the-barn blog. Back to modifying the greenhouse.

Sold the Goats

and the TV company I work for is selling itself.

But we have a greenhouse now. (It's the one in this slide show. But with plastic over it.)

And someone might actually buy my screenplay.

The Hollywood Farmer is dead.

Long live The Hollywood Farmer.

Let's See...

...I'm getting even more writing work from the day-job these days, i.e., today, which is why I'm blogging right now (deadline is sundown, basically, and I can't take it) and why the God of writing is going to SMITE ME HARD in the next hour or so, and why I've made ZERO PROGRESS on the 4GrownUpsTV spec scripts (which may be pointless anyway)...

...the potatoes have all been harvested and they positively MELT IN YOUR MOUTH...

...the goats haven't had their bedding changed or been let out in the yard in about three weeks (which means GPS--Goat Protection Services--is going to be on my goat-stinky a** any day now because they monitor their goats using, well, you know)...

...and big beautiful fluffy flakes are falling through the late-afternoon-sunlight right now, making for a pre-Thanksgiving Christmas-postcard-from-back-home-on-the-farm (or maybe that should be a timely over-the-river-and-through-the-woods Thanksgiving postcard?).

Did I mention my inner city-boy almost bought a house in a village closer to where my daughters study ballet (and that they both have multiple parts in the school's production of The Nutcracker, which means they're going to have to buy cots and start sleeping over in the smells-like-never-been-washed-point-shoe-gel-inserts locker-room in a week or two)?

Or that the greenhouse film hasn't been put up yet, or that the ground it's sited on is mercifully-not-yet-but-soon-will-be frozen, or that the woodpile is almost gone and I have yet to call back either the cheaper-because-unsplit-wood guy or the people from whom I almost bought the Volvo XC60 of wood inserts to tell them that, no, I'm not actually moving, so get your highly-capable butts back here and make my hearth?

I didn't?

That's because I don't have time.

I'm writing right now.

Cooler than New York Magazine.

That's THF.

The proof:

Dunst told the October issue of Harper's Bazaar that [the rumors of romance between her and Justin Long] "are the funniest thing on planet Earth. I don't know him from Adam. I met him once and he and his friend were kind enough to walk me home. I've never seen him since." Bizarre old-lady expression aside, that clears that up. On her future plans, Kirsten says she won't always live in NYC. "I want to have kids and a farm with lots of animals on a lake," she said, presumably brushing her waist-length hair and buttoning her prairie dress.

"Bizarre old-lady expression"? You mean "traditional expression"? As in "not-born-yesterday" expression? Is it hip to be illiterate?

Actually, NYMag...THF doesn't want to hear your answer to that. Don't know that farming's not just for the Amish anymore, but rather for anybody who's awake? Don't know that more and more celebs are waking up all the time? Don't know that this is good news? Then you don't know. We know, though. But don't worry. We'll send you a link.

Everyone Loves A Music Video.

I know I do.

This is his best yet. It's also the most insane. That's why.

Burn, Baby.

I knew there was a reason why I love this show. Sure, Jeffrey Donovan, Bruce Campbell and super-smart creator-writer Matt Nix are all great reasons to love Burn Notice, but at the moment I'm excited about the fact that there are apparently not one but two ag-types in the cast:

Burn Notice, a breezy summer spy romp on the USA Network, is the kind of regular gig Mr. Campbell long ago stopped pursuing, deciding that instead of chasing stardom in Los Angeles he’d rather make his own movies, write a few books and basically not get involved in anything that would interfere with his ability to hang out on his middle-of-nowhere property, a lavender farm outside Ashland, Oregon. "I’m a fairly antisocial hermit type," he confesses. "So I like it up there."

But Campbell hasn’t been there much lately. Besides working on “Burn Notice” in Miami (where, he claims, he’s prone to “projectile sweating”), he’s been out on the hustings, finishing postproduction and greasing the promotional wheels for his next film, an indie horror-comedy called “My Name Is Bruce,” scheduled to open in October. He directed it and stars as a legendary B-movie actor named Bruce Campbell, who turns out to be a liquored-up jerk who ends up battling a nine-foot-tall sword-wielding Chinese god of war (and of bean curd) to save a small town. It is not a true story.

A recent screening of footage from the film, which has been long delayed (“because,” he explained, “low-budget movies aren’t released, they escape”), drew roars of approval at Comic-Con International in San Diego, with one fan loudly proclaiming Mr. Campbell his favorite actor, ever. After which Mr. Campbell opened his wallet and gave the guy $2.

So now I like him not only because he's hilarious, but because of his apparently equal love for film and farm. But that's not the only thing we have in common. We also both projectile-sweat.

UPDATE: Farmers are sleepy at the end of the day, which may be why I didn't notice my Burn Notice star here is THF's first American celebrity-ag tag! Couldn't have happened to a nicer guy.

Speculation.

They still made movies during the Great Depression, right?

WSJ writers who see it coming, unite.

I predict that every field (not just mine) will come to be split between people who recognized some kind of farming was necessary and did it--even though it made their lives insane--and people who scoffed and now are scraping.

OK, my oracle is done now. Time to pass out.

UPDATE: Well, this is some consolation, I suppose.

Country. City.

Went to a barn-dance.



Went to the Flatiron District.



The first was about tradition. The second was about writing for TV.

Hello, I'm The Hollywood Farmer. Sometimes I'm afraid I'm not sustainable.

Because I have to be.

Again with the U.K.

This from Gabrielle Anwar, the lovely lass from Burn Notice (which actually has an online clothing store that sells what's seen on the show):

I was just reading one of these magazines about nothing in particular...you know, about what everyone's wearing. And I guess I now have a sudden interest in what's hot and what's not. I discovered that I actually am interested in fashion. I don't know if I would actually incorporate that into my everyday existence. It's just not something that's as interesting to me as...growing a vegetable patch. [laughs]

The embarrassed laugh either indicates that she knows she sounds quaint or that she's bullshitting. If the latter, could it be that vegetable gardening is some sort of universally-acknowledged Activity of Fundamental Import (AFI)? As in "Of course I garden. I care, don't I?"

P.S.: Still listening for soundings from Ireland, Scotland and Wales. Shame on me for treating the U.K. without distinction. I'm rather Irish, so I really ought to know better.

OK, That's It

We've now heard from from the last remaining English-speaking country that's not this one (see here and here, and here): Nicole Kidman sings the garden organic in Vogue:

I’ve been in Tennessee, just sitting. We have a farm there, and I have an organic vegetable garden. This is a path I’d not taken before. My mum’s always gardened. My sister gardens. And I’ve now conformed to the Kidman women’s hobby of gardening. And it is just a hobby. I’m not feeding the troops. [laughs]

Yeah, but...you were thinking it. Anybody's who paying attention would be.

Nicole is also pregnant for the first time. Some cute bits:

"Would you like to touch it?" asks Nicole Kidman.

I lower my hand onto the rounded curve of her stomach. It's as firm to the touch as a melon. "I just felt some kicking," she says, giving me the look of unbridled delight you might expect from a 40-year-old woman who's soon to bear her first child.

"The whole experience is so primal," she says.

"Just look at how I'm sitting here with my legs apart"—her knees splay out at a 45-degree angle. "This is the way you have to sit when you're pregnant."

"When I first saw the baby on the ultrasound, I started crying. I didn't think I'd get to experience that in my lifetime," she says. "I like the unpredictable nature of it. To feel life growing with you is something very, very special, and I'm going to embrace that completely. I don't believe in flittering around the edges of things. You're either going to walk through life and experience it fully or you're going to be a voyeur. And I'm not a voyeur."

Visceral, yet clinical; immersed, yet self-conscious to a point just this side of detachment. No, not a voyeur. An actor.

With Love, From Hollywood.

My brother from out H'wood way sent these pics. He was location-scouting here for the upcoming "Beauty and Tranquility" from Touchstone. His old high-school buddy heard he was going to be headed back east for the annual family vaca and called in a favor. I hear Bruckheimer will be helming this one. It's going to kick beautiful, tranquil ass.

Ready For My Close-Up

Just as soon as they call me. Cuz you know I had to nominate myself. I mean, c'mon...a guy who does hilarious commentary on showbiz minutiae for his vlog while milking a goat? That's what I call "unique."

Wonder if a farmer-filmmaker filming the farmer-filmmakers filming the aforementioned farmer-filmmaker would be too, eh, meta. I don't get too many opportunities to use the camera these days, though, so they just might have to deal.

The fact that Ian Cheney is helping to make this film seems a good reason to finally link here.