Monthly Archives: August 2008

time

Friends (with benefits) movie poster

Friends (with benefits) movie poster

I LOVE the new poster design for “Friends (with benefits).”  I offered up the chance to design it to a few graphic students, and came away with a number of great ideas, none better than the final choice.  It just pops.  It makes me want to see the film.  Just hope the damn movie can live up to the poster.

I need to learn to delegate…to not try and take on everything myself.  That’s always been a problem for me, finding people whom I can trust, people who kick ass with what they do, work-a-fucking-holics.  I know a couple…but they are so few and far between. 

Next I begin the process of finding someone to replace Matthew Ryan to do the score for Friends.  He’s so busy touring with the new cd…and I understand never having enough time.  Hell, he’s got kids!  Can’t even imagine.

Did the old CraigsList ad to start.  Got deleted as spam or some such nonsense.  Reposted.  There’s a lot of bad music out there…there’s also a lot of good.  Though part of me thinks I should tune up the old Tele and just let her rip.  I can certainly do stark.  And lord knows, I’ve got all the extra time in the world.

I guess “time” is the theme today.  Never enough, unless your staring at the wall.  Then time stands still.  Then time wants to hang.  Time wants to be your fucking best friend when you’re ready to slit your wrists.  It’s there for you. 

When you think of it that way, time is like the biggest asshole of all time.  The insincere frat boy with date-rape face.  And yet there are people out there who make a movie or more every year without fail.  Who write a novel, sometimes two, every year without fail.  Have they ever met time?  Or are they just better at managing it?  Can they simply afford people to do their work for them?   Or perhaps they have no life outside of work.  I’ve certainly been accused of that.  Guilty as charged.

But it was nice not to spend a lot of time on the Friends poster and be in love with it.  Be proud of it.  Be happy that is was the face of my film. 

I’m sure I’ll be happy with the music when I find the right composer, the right musician…again.  Until then I’ll envy the dust clinging for dear life to my Fender’s frets.  Its safe for the moment…

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Film Commissions…

YOU ARE ALONE poster

YOU ARE ALONE poster

Accounting is not my strong suit.  Dealing now with getting a tax credit from the CT State Film Commission for my last feature, FRIENDS (WITH BENEFITS). It’s a comedy, the paperwork is not.  And I’m sure when you’re a big studio with a bevy of lawyers and accountants at your beck and call, dealing with the massive amounts of paperwork is no big deal.  However when you’re a small company (and What Were We Thinking Films, Inc. is a SMALL company), the paperwork is suffocating.  As are the accounting fees for the necessary audit.  But the CT Film Commission was never one to make things easy for the little guy.  (The last commissioner actually told me, a lifetime tax-paying resident who’s made 6 low budget features in state, they didn’t have time for small films because so many big budget movies were coming to Connecticut.  Yeah, well…I’m still here.  She’s long gone.)

Though I love New Haven.  Though I love New Haven brick oven pizza.  Though I love our homegrown coffee.  I’m ready to make films elsewhere.  Where the state film commission actually wants the business, wants the art, wants to help.  Why stay where you’re not wanted?

I’ve been editing FRIENDS for a year now, since the day after Final Cut Pro was released last June.  I’ve taken the first cut of 125 minutes down to 93 minutes.  I’ve made it a film I’m proud to have my name on.  That’s what it is at this point.  Making films or writing books that I’m proud of.  There’ve been to many pieces of shit in my past.  Usually having to do with losing control of the project, or in the case of THE KISS, never having control to begin with and making the mistake of trusting a producer who couldn’t see his star-struck hand from his wife-kissed ass. 

That’s why I made YOU ARE ALONE and now FRIENDS.  To prove that either I could do it, I could make a film worth watching, or to just get it out of my system and stick to the books.  I do honestly believe I proved I could with YOU ARE ALONE.  I’m very proud of that film, of the response its gotten at film festivals and on DVD.  (If I must say so, my director’s commentary is worth a listen.  It’s a lesson in indie filmmaking, it’s a lesson in life.  And if you love dogs, it will make you cry.)  I’m curious as to how audiences will react to FRIENDS.  It guess I’ll be finding out soon enough.

P.S. The vet called.  Kilgore’s not anemic after all.  It was just another scare in a long line of scares with him.  Damn, I love that dog! 

 

 

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A start…

I fed the dogs.  Called back the vet to see if my eldest, Kilgore Trout, is anemic.  Which means he might have cancer, or liver disease, or something worse.  Which means he’s going to die soon.  I can’t think of many people whose life I wouldn’t trade for Kilgore’s.   

I opened up the New York Times Arts section and glanced at the movie reviews.  The Friday Times is one of only three things in my life which keep me grounded as to what day of the week it is.  Otherwise I wouldn’t have a clue.

I’m 49 years old, going through a never-ending mid-life crisis.  Paul Westerberg (about to turn 49) hit it on the nose on a song on his new album 49: something in my life is missing.  My therapist tells me it’s because I take my fantasy world, my fictional worlds, if you will, more seriously than I do the real world. 

I’m a writer.  I’m a filmmaker.  Why wouldn’t I?

So I sit down and write this.  Perhaps if I write about the real world it’ll seem less fuzzy.  More real, if you will.  Perhaps I’ll just turn the real world into fiction, and then really be happy.

Perhaps this is just a big waste of time.

Who the fuck knows?

My name is Gorman Bechard.  I’ve written a bunch of novels, five of which have been published.  I’ve made seven feature films, three of which I’m proud of.  I’m basically a guy who types.  A guy with a typewriter.

And this is my blog…

P.S. Still waiting on the call back from the vet.

 

Kilgore Trout, at the age of 8 weeks

Kilgore Trout, at the age of 8 weeks

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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