HOLY CRAP...
...it has been TOO FREAKING LONG!
I have soooo much to tell you and not enough time...but I will try to say what I need to say before the internet shuts off.
First off, MORP. MORP MORP MORP MORP. It was FREAKING AMAZING.
In a nutshell: I have the best friends in the world. From the moment I got up that day, I was surrounded by amazing people. There was literally no point during May 1st that I looked at someone and thought, "Why do I have to deal with you, you're a jerk!" My date/MORP buddy/whatever you wanna call him was honestly the best person I could have chosen to spend my senior prom with (let's pretend that sentence was structured properly, shall we?). Isaac R., the soon-to-be Ivy League-attending, film-acting, play-writing, saxophone-playing, physics-whiz BADASS who has been one of the best friends I've ever had and gotten me through the year (a LOT...you seriously have no idea) was my MORP date and I will tell you, we had a blast. I'd never seen him dance before and dude, he's an EPIC dancer...in fact, I got to judge a dance-off between him and another good friend, Emily D...and he won, it was close thanks to her disco moves, but he did win...and then he kicked my ass at bowling, and then we kicked ass at pool and got our collective asses kicked at pool by Ariel F.--no joke, she beat us single-handed! WOW.
Ok, so you know by now (or at least you should) that my friends and I are weird, right? Well, what would you say if I told you we had our own code for playing pool? We did...and I can't translate our code words (it's our secret!) but I can give you a sampling of our insanity:
MACARONI STOP!
What even is that thing?!
But I'm from Michigan!
"But I don't know anything about International Relations!" "It's okay, my dear, nobody does!"
Greyhouse moment!
But I want to adopt it!/Can I adopt it?/Do I want to adopt it?/You want to adopt this one, yes you do!
It was, in a single word, amazing.
It gets even better...WE HAD A REAL DJ...we had a proper, hired DJ from Traverse City, instead of having an Interlochen kid do it...and he played ALL my jams..."Jesse's Girl," "Thriller," "D.A.N.C.E.," "Boom Boom Pow," "We R Who We R," and "Just Dance"...and it was awesome. It really was. This is why I like REAL DJs...because they play REAL music instead of just doing the same thing over and over.
Shout-outs to all who made MORP memorable:
*Isaac
*Krista T.
*Morgan
*Mishka
*Lydia M
*Julia H, MY WIFE :P
*Emily H-C
*Thomas
*Gustavo
*Emily D
*Aaron
*Danny R
*Jackie G
*Harry H the HIPSTER ;) jk, jk <3
And a huge, HUGE thank-you to Lisa M., our activities coordinator, for making MORP magical for all of us...YOU ROCK and I want to be just like you when I grow up! :)
But while we were all getting ready for MORP, a few things happened that I have to mention, because without them, my senior year would be incomplete.
I have not had an easy time in my department this year. That's no secret. I've had to fight hard to get even the tiniest roles--I've done continuity three times this year!--and by April I was honestly really sick of this. So sick of it, in fact, that I started behaving very immaturely and blaming pretty much everyone but myself for my problems. I whined. I cried--a LOT. I complained to anyone who would listen about how unfair my life was and how I would've been better off in Comparative Arts or Creative Writing.
And then a truly amazing person in my department came to me, looked me right in the eye, and said, "Grow up."
But he didn't say it in a mean way! Not at all. Quite the opposite, in fact: He spent the night before HIS junior thesis pep-talking ME. ?!? How's THAT for an incredible friend? I swear to you, until that night I did not know that there was anyone other than my parents who would be willing to get up with me at four in the morning just because I was upset. I think that was half the wake-up call--knowing that even though he had every reason not to, he was still willing to come and talk to me in the middle of the night.
And you know what? I screwed up. I admit it. I screwed up a lot this year--I don't know anyone who DIDN'T have their screwup moments this year, but it felt like I had about a billion of those--and yet he was still willing to give me another chance.
All year, I've been dying to do lighting. It got to the point where I went to an MPA who I didn't like, who I knew didn't like me, and begged them to let me grip for their thesis simply so I could touch lights--didn't matter if I designed them or not, just so long as I could do somethingwith them--and I was whining excessively about how I would do anything to light just ONE person's thesis. (As you might have guessed, that did not work out too well.)
And when my friend got up with me in the middle of the night, he told me that he'd give me one last chance. He assigned me the position of lighting grip--which is a hell of a lot closer to what I wanted to do than continuity or vanities, a.k.a. what I'd been doing pretty much the whole year--and that meant that I got to set up, tear down, and operate lights...
...and, of course, go up in the grid.
Holy crap. The Grid. It should be the title of a horror movie. I'm not kidding. I have a new respect for theater techies--if you have the guts to go up in the freaking ceiling, on a mesh floor, using a ladder so sketchy it's enough to make a skydiver afraid of heights...well, in my opinion you deserve a curtain call, at the very least.
To say that I was afraid to go up on this thing is an understatement of breathtaking proportions. On a scale from one to ten, my panic level was at "OhmyGodholyhellIcan'tdothisohmyGodgetmedownNOW!" before I'd taken two steps. As I bluntly told my film teacher after the fact, it's not that I don't like heights, it's that I don't like near-death experiences, which is what I was sure I was about to have (or having, depending on how you look at it--hmm, going up to the ceiling untethered? sounds pretty deadly to me). So when I actually got to the top and got into the grid...wow. Exhilarated doesn't even cover it. I was on top of the world (figuratively and literally).
So as long as I was up there, I was fine. It was when it was time to come down that I had a problem. I went right back up to "OhmyGodholyhellIcan'tdothisohmyGodgetmedownNOW!" and pretty much stayed there until I was on solid ground. But it was worth it. I will tell you this much, right now: It is absofreakinglutely worth being scared for a few minutes to go up in the grid.
But you know what? I don't think anything was as amazing as hearing the director--my friend--tell me, "You are doing an amazing job." That alone was worth the scary ladder and the scary grid. I hadn't actually gripped for someone in a long time, so it was a double shot of amazing: Doing something I loved and getting recognition for doing it.
And you want to know something else? THAT is why I came to this school, right there, in a nutshell. That's why I came here. I wanted to do what I loved and get credit for doing it. Isn't that why we all came here? (Sorry, I'm about to go on a rant here. I hope my soapbox doesn't crush anyone.) Because I've heard an awful lot of people complaining about Interlochen lately...
~cue new section of blog post~
Guys, come on. I will be the first to admit that there are things I don't like about this school. (Tip lines? REALLY? Holy crap...) But you know what, I think we need to stop, take a look, and put this in perspective.
First of all, did anyone come to Interlochen expecting that it was going to be perfect? I hope your answer to that is no, and if it's not, well, I'm sorry, but I think most of us knew going in that this was going to be tough. And believe me, I'm not going to pretend that I've loved every second of the past two years--I haven't. There have been parts that I've absolutely hated. There have been moments that I wish I could erase.
For anyone wondering, no, I haven't always gotten along with my suitemates or roommates. I didn't always take advantage of opportunities that Interlochen offered me. I didn't go to every dance or eat every meal at Stone or trust the laundry service with my favorite clothes. But those were petty things, little things that I could just kind of ignore. When I say there are moments I wish I could erase, I'm talking about bigger mistakes. I'm talking about the kind of moments when you just wish the floor would open up and swallow you.
Put yourself in the following situation and see what I mean:
You are sitting in a film workshop, presenting your first-ever thesis script. It gets torn apart time after time, until you finally give in and change the whole bloody thing. At the last minute you write a screenplay that you think will satisfy everyone, including yourself. You submit it to your thesis advisor and he turns it down flat, telling you that it is "worse than the first draft," despite a trusted friend's insistence that it is much better than your current shooting script. Your friend advises you to send it in to your department head. Afraid of what your thesis advisor will do--namely cancel your shoot--if you go behind his back or over his head, you chicken out and don't send the latest draft of the screenplay. Instead, you shoot the script that he likes and hate yourself for it later.
I don't care what anyone says or thinks. I will never, ever forgive myself for screwing up my junior thesis. The fact that now I have a better film doesn't matter. The fact that I will probably be able to re-shoot Alien Water Torture someday doesn't matter. The way I see it, I essentially wasted my junior year. My GPA dropped, my thesis film was a mess, and I lost most of my friends and had to start over senior year, replacing graduates and returners alike with newcomers.
In other words: Not exactly the magical Hogwarts of the Arts that I was hoping for.
And things didn't exactly perk up the way I'd hoped senior year. I was told that seniors had priority for theses and crew roles. Not true. Now, I was told that my attitude through the year had a big role in this, and you know what, that's probably true. I admit that right now: There are definitely things I could have done differently, better ways I could have handled myself, and I would make a fair few changes in myself if I could go back to the beginning of the year and do this over.
But you know what? That wasn't the only contributing factor. As I mentioned above, when I actually got on sets I kicked ass. I stayed positive when on-set, didn't whine or act petty to the people who had crew roles that I wanted while I was stuck doing continuity. It was getting on-set that was the problem--by the time I finally got onto a crew, there had been five shoots. And it's not like no one knew what I was trying to do. I told everyone in the department, newbies and returners alike, that I was willing to work. I made it known that I was available. And I still got absolutely nowhere.
For anyone who doesn't know, there's a rule in the MPA department that we are only allowed to do the same job twice per season. So, if I were to be the cinematographer for two people, I couldn't say yes when a third person asked me to be their cinematographer; they would have to find someone else. Last year I noticed that there were certain crew roles, like vanities and grip, that could get away with breaking this rule and no one really noticed. I figured that was okay. I didn't realize yet that people weren't just doing minor roles more than twice.
I know people who have done lighting four times and camera three times. I know one person who did audio four times this season--why? Is it really that much of an inconvenience to have someone who's not the best in the department do your film? Last year I had a great DP who dropped out at the last minute and replaced him with someone who had never DPed a film before. And my gaffer? Yeah, she'd never lit a film before, either. And say what you like aboutPossession, I'll be the first to admit that it sucks, but no one can say the cinematography and lighting weren't anything less than 100% solid. This year the same guy was supposed to be my DP, but he overbooked and couldn't do it. I replaced him again, this time with a first-year who I'd never worked with before, whose reel I'd never seen, and hey, guess what? My cinematography was flipping amazing!
So yes, I know there are people in my department who are already at a professional grade, and I respect them and love them and view some of them as close friends. I'm not saying that it doesn't take serious dedication and some major raw talent to do what they do. I'm not saying that I don't admire them for it, because I do. (Read the end of this post if you think I'm just saying this so I don't sound like a jealous bitch.) I look up to them like crazy and I hope that I can be as good in five years as they are right now.
All that being said, Interlochen is a school, not a major studio. I don't care how much talent one person has compared to another, it's not fair for a teacher to showcase the more-talented student and let them do all of the jobs that everyone is supposed to learn how to do. During one conversation with another student about how I wasn't getting enough crew roles and how I might change that, my friend said to me, "Well, you know, they're three-years. Of course people know that they can do things."
EXACTLY. They are THREE-YEAR SENIORS. Of COURSE they know what they're doing, they've had a chance to do it all before most of us got here! Which is why it's the TEACHER'S job to step in and say, "Hey, this kid has been the DP for about six thesis films since he's been here, and I have this other kid over here who's really good at cinematography but hasn't gotten to do one yet and it's their senior year--hmm, maybe I should let this other kid take a shot?" (Terrible pun not intended.)
Yes, in the end I did get my chance. But by then it was too late in the year to really do anything except say "Ha, ha, you didn't know I could do that, did you?" to the people who wouldn't let me on their sets before. And yes, Mom and Dad, I DID learn a lesson about myself and about what I can do differently when I go to college. But that's not the point. Point #1: It should not be my job to teach myself how to make films. That's what Interlochen is here for. It's not fair that the self-taught, raw-talented students are showcased, while others are shunted to the side.
But the bigger point, and the reason I started this rant in the first place, is this: If you have complaints about Interlochen--and we all do--do not waste them on things that you knew going in would be problems, such as the food or laundry or sign-in or overloads of homework. Use them for things that matter. I would have to say that being overlooked in your major is a pretty freaking big problem.
So, prospective students, listen to me now: DO NOT LET THIS HAPPEN TO YOU. Do not make the mistakes that I did. If your thesis advisor is holding you back, go to your department head and MAKE HIM LISTEN TO YOU. If people are throwing you off their sets or not letting you on in the first place, ask yourself why. If the problem is you--and be honest, because sometimes it is--change IMMEDIATELY. Don't wait until the end of your senior year to show everyone why you deserve to be on set. And if the problem is with your department, go to your department head--and if he doesn't listen (which mine unfortunately didn't), GO OVER HIS HEAD. Go to Nicole or JWes. Go to Mr. Farraday or Mr. Wade--THIS IS WHAT THEY ARE HERE TO DO. Get your parents involved--yes, I know it might be embarrassing, but let them get involved anyway. DO NOT LET YOURSELF GET PUSHED TO THE SIDE. Fight back. It's hard, and I learned this lesson in the worst way possible--so learn from my mistakes. FIGHT BACK LIKE YOUR LIFE DEPENDS ON IT.
On that note, I have to mention a very special teacher who made this year infinitely better than my junior year.
I know that everyone loves our artist-in-rez from last year. Fine, whatever. Maybe I was the only one he picked on. Maybe others faced the same treatment but don't want to say anything. Either way, he and I did not work well together, with the inevitable result that I learned very little from him. When I heard that we would have another artist-in-rez teaching editing this year, I was wary. What if he turned out to be like last year's artist-in-rez--nice at first, but after awhile things went sour?
Turns out, I didn't need to worry. It was (platonic, thankyouverymuch) love at first sight. This man taught me more in one session of thesis editing than Anthony taught me in an entire semester. This is Danny Daneau, an editing teacher, a filmmaker, and a mentor, who showed me that editing is in fact an art form, who showed me that post-production does not have to be painful, and that there is life after film school.
For the first few weeks I was still cautious, watching for any signs that my new teacher had a dark side. Any signs of power-tripping--any slip-up--any insistence that we were the ones who got the date wrong and not him--any unfair test questions--I jumped. But no one is perfect, and over time even the imperfections grew on me. Classes with this teacher are not sit-around sessions. We do things. We cut films. We critique each other's films. We use professional-grade materials and footage from professional-grade films. We are not just film students in this class--we are editors, and he treats us as such, instead of condescending and making us feel like grade-schoolers.
So far we've screened three of his films--his short Good Night Charlie, his college thesis The Attic Door (WHICH IS MOTHERFLUFFING BRILLIANT, BY THE WAY), and the film he edited, Fly Away. I absolutely love watching his work, just like I loved watching Anthony Penta's work--but the difference here is that I respect Danny Daneau not only as an artist, but as a person. Having Q&As after a screening is more like chatting with a friend than interviewing a teacher.
In an editing session with Danny, you do not feel intimidated or nervous. You do not worry about pleasing him or disappointing him. You just look at him and say, "Tell me what I need to do to make this better," and he tells you, and you do it. He does not hurt you by telling you that you're "too stubborn," that it doesn't matter what he tells you because "you won't listen to me anyway," or that "you just don't know how film works." He is honest--but he is honest about the good as well as the bad. It's impossible not to trust him, which makes it pretty damn hard to not learn from him.
I'm going to write him a more formal thank-you at the end of the year. (Writing train letters to teachers = SO FREAKING INTERLOCHEN it's not even funny.) But for now, I just want to let everyone know--I love, love, love having classes with Danny Daneau, and I feel so fortunate to be here, at this school, where I have access to people like him. Thank you Danny, and thank you Interlochen!
Now that the cheesiness is over...remember that Artist as Badass post I promised? Well...
Have you ever gone to an underground concert and fallen in love with one of the opening bands? Ever seen an indie short made by someone your age and thought, wow, I wonder if I could do that? Ever read a short story by a sixteen-year-old that was ten times better than certain published novels I could mention (but won't, for the sake of not beating that poor old dead horse)? Ever watched a friend do sketches and wondered why in the hell no one had snatched her up to design logos for some hi-tech company yet?
In this post I'm showcasing the amazing filmmaker Aaron Tyson. Let me tell you, if there were an MPA award for all-around proficiency, this kid would win it, hands-down. Some people are born to be wild, some people are born to be artists, some people are born to be unprofessional...well, Aaron Tyson was born to be a kickass indie filmmaker. I have seen more short films and trailers on his YouTube channels (yes, you read that right, CHANNELS, as in, plural) than I could make in ten years, and he seems to crank them out by the day.
What I love most about Aaron is that he doesn't give a damn if anyone else thinks it's "good" or not, and as a result most of his films turn out so well that you don't care either. It's only afterwards that you realize, "Wait a minute, there was no plot," or, "Wait a minute, that was Jeff?!" All Aaron needs is a camera and a few friends, and BOOM, out comes a short film. It also doesn't hurt that he's an amazing editor--he can take a random clip of a party in his dorm room and turn it into an angst-filled mock-trailer for a movie that you're dying to see...only you can't, because it doesn't actually exist.
However, the talent for making real trailers is as great as making mock-trailers...as these so nicely point out:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wz_w7JsC2eE&feature=channel_video_title
http://www.youtube.com/user/Sachte2#p/u/34/OVbBtny0e1w
The first trailer is for Nippeldiebstahl, the film that turned into a miniseries, and trust me, it doesn't make any more sense after you see the full movie. But here's the thing...IT DOESN'T MATTER! Remember what I said about why I love Aaron's films? Here's the practical example. When I saw that film, I wasn't thinking, "Uh, where's the plot?" I was thinking 1) "What's going to happen?" and 2) "Why the hell is Keaton wearing that wig?" (Well, okay, maybe I only thought that once, but still.)
The second is for Sachte, his junior thesis film, which I was fortunate enough to crew for (remember the fifteen friends and a crowbar post?) and I honestly can't make head or tail of this film...but I still love it. I don't care how many times you watch this thing, you will never be able to interpret it the way it was intended (and I would know, I'm friends with the writer AND the director), but it doesn't freaking matter! Part of the beauty of Sachte is coming up with your own interpretations. Or, if you're like me, you just chill out and think, Who cares? and enjoy the movie for what it is: A stunning display of editing, music, casting, visual effects, and choreography.
When you watch an Aaron Tyson film, you enjoy it. Period. And then maybe afterward, you realize that the only reason you did was for the graphics or the casting or the music...or maybe it was because the enjoyment from making the film seems to pour out of the screen and into the audience. When someone truly loves their craft, you can sense it, and it's almost impossible to not go along for the ride.
In place of stolen dialogue (yes, I KNOW you missed it, I missed it too, but this is more important), I'm going to close out this post with an interview with Aaron Tyson, the first-ever recipient of the Beatnik Belle Artist as Badass Award (yes, more WILL win this useless but fun award, and they WILL be featured on this blog and the "sequel blog" when I go off to McDaniel).
AWT: How long have you been making movies?
Aaron Tyson: I started when I was about seven years of age. My first camera was a large VCR camcorder nearly twice my size. Filmmaking was a hobby back then, something for my friends and I to do on weekends, so elements of story were rushed and mostly absent, similar to Nippeldiebstahl
What filmmakers inspire you? Why?
Alfred Hitchcock, for his ability to create suspense, and tell compelling stories with simple yet effective techniques. Robert Elswitt, for being the best DP ever. His ability to tell a story in one sweeping shot has always fascinated me. Walter Murch for his focus on sound design and his ability to make every cut count.
Your films are known for having a chaotic, edgy look with a heavy dark (Sachte) or comedic (The Jeff Who Wasn't There) tone. Where do your ideas come from?
This came from limited resources. When I started making films, I had no lights or trained camera operators. The limited lighting, and use of haze/fog to provide arial diffusion was necessary.
Nippeldiebstahl, your latest film/miniseries, has a few fresh faces (most notably Keaton Manning), and was made simply because you and your crew were "bored." Can you elaborate a bit on the story behind Nippeldiebstahl? How did you come up with the concept? What made you decide to release it as a series, instead of a stand-alone?
Alex Szemetylo (Corey) needed to shoot a music video for a Math extra credit assignment. Austin Holm (The Bear) was bored and wanted to shoot a country music video starring Keaton Manning (Edmund) and Harry Hunter (Crizzald). Neither of them can sing or play any instruments well. I posed the idea of a scary short. horror films are fun, and due to my experience, easy to make with limited time. They all agreed this idea was suitable, yet had no idea of story. So we made it up as we went long. Eventually Jeff Kasanoff (Jack) became the show runner and has written the next six episodes premiering soon.
Sachte has officially become an Interlochen Legend. What's the story behind that film? How did you come up with your marketing campaign? There have been rumors of a sequel - is this going to happen? If so, when?
I would love to make a Sachte II. The t-shirts already have been made to market the potential part two. If this ever happens, it will be a remake more so than a continuation. The film was originally the story of Boy and Girl, two lovable teens, who mistakenly stumble upon a trail in the forest. the trail leads them to a house. The house's foyer is filled with candy and other sweet foods. This lures them into the next room of the house, inhabited by dolls and toys, which come to life and dance with the two protagonists. the dancers are warm loving children, who a revealed to be ragged, ghostly minions to the witch who runs the house.
The marketing campaign came very naturally to me. I figured YouTube and Facebook were perfect place to promote the film at a high school: targeting the artsy teen demographic.
Do you have any advice for prospective MPAs?
Don't be discouraged by the difficulties you will experience here at the academy. Make sure your priorities are in order, though a 10 hour school day feels long there is a lot of time to produce projects independently and perfect your in class thesis work.
Is there anything you would like the readers of AWT to know that I haven't asked you? Any shout-outs to friends or colleagues?
Vote Szemetylo+Overton!!!
Sorry about the lateness of this post! Won't happen again, I swear! ;)
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