...explaining the "French Project"

Yes, the French Project, hmm

Well, fans of Snow Patrol may have seen the video to Open Your Eyes, this was in fact Claude Lelouche's film "C'etait un rendez vous".

This 8 or so minutes has become a seminal piece of film.

Shot in 1976 on a camera mounted to a custom made jig on the front of a Mercedes 450SEL, then dubbed over with the engine noise of a V12 Ferrari. Set in Paris, at 4 in the morning, it is a race to meet a date at a famous park in the city.

What makes the film interesting, as a piece of film making, as appose to film viewing, is the reason it is 8 minutes 46 seconds. This is the length 35mm film came in. This was restricted by the technology of the time and the director; Lelouche's want to make the hole thing in one continuous take. No post editing. No second camera cutaways. No roping off of streets or altering of the city. This is Paris, this is his drive, this is Claude racing to make it for a date.

Now, you may cry wolf, or cry foul at this point because of one major move Lelouche has made to make this work; who has a date at 4am? Yes, yes, it is a large point to concede. But well, I don't have any real answer but this, 8 minutes behind a 2CV, and or, it's the 70's, maybe she, and he, are complete slags. Maybe it's when her father left for work as an airport employee and thus be able to sneak out the house to see her older lover. Maybe she's a nurse and has just finished a shift treating syfalific old men in a private hospital. Whatever one helps you appease that nag in your head.

Anyway, I present Claude Lelouche's "C'etait un rendez vous", enjoy.

...coming out as an actor. Really, you? (continued)

Part 2

I guess that thing I had about saying I was an actor (as in, I want to be) was initially thought to be the comedian thing I said.
You know:

steve:: "hi bob."
bob:: "oh, hi, steve, what do you do these days?"
steve:: "yeah, I'm err, a err, comedian!"
bob:: "WTF, you, really, but you're.....
.....err, make me laugh, go on!"
steve:: "oh, I'm not that sort of comedian."
bob:: "you're shit!
....go on, fuck off. Comedian, my fucking arse he's a comedian. He's got the personality of a slapped arse."

So, you can see why I didn't want to say anything.

I guess, moving ever so slightly on from this initial hesitancy, I guess I was thinking, oh, actor, err, you have to have the most electric personality; the life and soul of the party; the big noise; the big potato: the mouth, etc.
Yes, I guess that's what I thought; the self-promoting all singing, all dancing extrovert.

I'm not the stops traffic kind of guy. I'm 5' 10" when I actually stand up straight, yes I have a pretty face, but it's not that pretty. Also, I look 15 still. I never get asked my opinion by those clip-boarders in town. I'm a perfect pick-pocket. I can get away with not being there. Very forgettable.

So, the all singing, all dancing Mr Extrovert v Mr Cellophane.
See the thing is this: I can be the all sing all dancing extrovert. I have been, on many occasions but only when certain things are in place. I have to be on top of an internal wave, the occasion has to have 5 or less people there, preferably less (hopefully with no positive or completely no experience of me before) and the moon has to be in it's third cycle and a bat has to be killed by a loft insulator less than 3 miles from where this occasion is to be held. In other words, things have to be perfect for me to operate as Mr Extrovert. Mr Extrovert is incredibly fragile. He's normally wrapped up by Mr Cellophane.

Now, as I've alluded to in today's earlier posting, for 16* years I've been too fragile, too much like Jenson Button; as in, everything has to work perfectly to achieve anything close to full potential. Not robust enough. Great skill to do anything he wants in life, but as yet, hasn't made any mark.
Well no more. I'm going to be less fragile, more stable and definitely more robust.
I have to be it's now a career skill set. It's a life skill set!

Anyway, yes, so, right, more decisive. More err, you know; to the point.

No more Cellophane

(also, RSAMD are having an open day on Friday for 2010's intake. Plus getting back to extra-ing soon too)

...starting to get the point of blogs...

...no, not at all.

No, well, I get that you don't have to follow me (my blog) to read it, so I'm slowly realising that I'm not the only one reading it. Also, I'm getting that this is a nice way to carry on conversions I've had with others about things and 'what I'm doing with my ever shortening life'.

Anyway.

So yeah, Ive told too many people now that I want to act. Yes a few have raised eyebrows and looked at me like I've just told them I've become a Tory candidate but I'm going to do it.

You understand it's more than the fame, right?
It's all about the money. Like a less invasive version of prostitution.
No, it's not about the fortunes that Brad and the Clooney have, well a bit, no, it's more just an ability to earn the most out of my limited skills set.

No, it's not that bleak, really, not completely.
I want to act because I still don't really know how to live in and use my body, face and voice.
It's also the fact that I've not been firing on all cylinders for the past 16* years now and have only just started, in the last 2, to get back to a real sense of myself and my full potential.
I want to really enjoy crafting myself into characters and situations where my potential can be seen. I'm not going to completely give up on Architecture, but I do want to chase something that pushes the daydreamer in me.
I already imagine I play professional football (knowing that I'm not that good at it)
I know I'm something for a fall (you know, that saying) but it's what I wanted to do, 16* years ago, and was quite good then.

The way I see it, I've not really lived fully for about 16* years. Yes I've gotten older, learnt things (not grammar) and have been physically there but as S L would say, I've been missing.
At times I've been at full, err, power? but it's not been sustained or without lots of caffeine and prescription medication. At the moment, I've cut the reliance on caffeine, hence the ability to sleep 23 hours a day, but I'm finally getting the right treatment to help me out of this 16* year lull.




(* is an estimation from a report by some doctor who asked me questions one time when things were very dark.)

...coming out as an actor. Really, you?

It's really strange, you know, the whole idea of acting.

It's one of those things I haven't really admitted to other people.

There's a couple of reasons for that. One, I haven't actually done anything to completely commit myself to this title but much more importantly is reason two. If you say you're an actor, it provokes strange looks and one of two main responses, so I've found. Firstly, the other people instantly wants you to perform, as if acting requires no preparation or material. I imagine it's the same for comedians; make me laugh, now. The other person wants you to perform Shakespeare or fall over or something. The second reaction is of a curtain level of dis-stain. A persumed amount of arrogance or ego.

I'm ok with people thinking i'm a bit of an egotist. I can imagine that when I'm not so talkative, I project a curtain arrogance, so that's fine. It's the other thing that worries me.

Do I have to go out with a rehearsed sketch or monologue, permanently etched into my brain? No, thank god. Well not in Glasgow. Thanks to a friend called Woody, she apparently reads this blog from time to time. Well, one of my blogs. Hope it's this one, the other one's about my car. Anyway, she told a number of my friends that I stated I was an actor. Well, that did it. Thankfully, no-one said it was beyond me, well, not to my face.

In a strange way, in a really good way, it lifted a weight of my shoulders.

I've told my mother and sister already. I admitted it to my partner, SL as soon as I did to myself. It was the idea of telling anyone else that was a big step. If I told my mother, sister and SL that I wanted to be a pink elephant, they'd support me all the way. Though the operations and the gene therapy and what ever else it took. It's telling others that's well, not so, er, easy.

Now, well, as it's out in the open, no more am-dram-closets to hide in, I better get on with it.

So, how exactly do you become an actor?

...I also write

Well, I say write:
http://intellectualzoom.blogspot.com

But I also make art, well I say make:
http://distography.blogspot.com

But then I do drive, a lot...
http://drivingkolo.blogspot.com

...introducing Milly. The cat that gets photo'd when she sleeps

...loving Milly. She is a cat.

On Wednesday, SL and I went to collect a little kitten called, well at that point she had no name. She is a little silver tabby cat, green-blue eyes and had 4 feet plus a tail.
What else to say about her?
Oh, she fits onto one hand.

Since then, she has taken up all of our time. But that's because we let her.