She wins an Oscar for best screenplay and is the first American woman to be nominated for best director. And she did this with her own unique bittersweet style. We are very proud of you.

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My friend, Father Antonio, took me to see Gibson's "Passion". But, first I wanted him to enjoy my new massage chair. He wants one. He thought when he got older he could do mass from the chair. He's a very funny priest, very human. He asked me if I thought Gibson's "Passion" would bring me closer to God. I said, "no". Movies can't really do that for me. The only movies that have moved me in a spiritual way are "To Kill A Mockingbird", "Captain's Courageous" and "La Strada". The dignity and preciousness of the human spirit rang so pure in these movies, they made me want to love deeper and be more compassionate to others. That's the closest a movie has brought me to God.

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I remember blogging awhile back an older couple from China visiting our "beautiful" Hollywood Blvd. Fred Caruso, Nick and I were having a meeting at Musso & Frank's about future Romania projects. We ran into this couple walking back to our offices in the grand old Taft building. They wanted their picture taken with a very old disposable camera, but didn't speak English. Mr. Caruso stepped right in. There was some hand gesturing, then he figured out right away that they wanted the Hollywood sign in the background. They were very happy. What's cool about this is that they may never know that the Production Manager of Francis Coppola's Godfather took their picture while his nephew watched. Here's pictures Nick caught on his cellphone. I'm adding the appropriate music.


hush.mov

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Nicolas Paine, the head of production for Ars Nova XXI & PlasterCITY, just got a fresh haircut. There's a definite Dutch Boy ring to it. We went to a screening of an independent film tonight at the Arc Light Theatres on Sunset Blvd. There was a cocktail party afterwards. Part of Nick's and my job is to hobnob with others in the business-- hand out cards, make connections, etc. It's a necessary evil. I was proud of Nick. He's a force to reckon with and a great head of production. I got some shots of him in action. You can spot him by the haircut.



I stayed outside for most of it, smoking a pipe as I watched people. I love studying body language. You can learn a lot doing this.

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Kitt doin' his thang at a hot nightclub in 29 Palms, California.

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AM - Monday.mov

I've always found seals to be magical creatures. I think this picture goes well with Elliot White's "AM-MONDAY". Mr. White also contributes to the blog called LIFE IN THE LOST LANE. It's the voice of young English gentlemen.

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Matt Devlin promoting the documentary Gumball Rally 3000.

Matt Devlin is a talented guy, but he should use his great talents elsewhere. He cares about people. Stick to important documentaries like the one you did on Bosnia. Or make your ultra low-budget horror movies. I can't understand why you would waste years of your life glorifying spoiled rich brats driving fancy cars over 100 mph across America and putting hardworking people in jeopardy. Thank God no one was killed. "Cannonball Run" is a cool movie. Burt Reynolds is a cool movie star. But, there's nothing cool whatsoever about the Gumball Rally 3000.

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My son and I created Poncho Night to be held every other Saturday. We look at spaghetti westerns, classic westerns, Flynn and Fairbanks classics, Revolution movies like "Viva Zapata!", pirate and knight movies, Rat Pack, etc. Basically, manly men movies. All men, boys and animals must be wearing a poncho. Women and girls are allowed if they seriously want to be there, but according to my eight year old son, and I approve, they "should wear a skirt, be dolled up and bring cookies or pie." If any ladies do show up at Poncho Night, I suggested that they might win a prize for best singing and dancing after the movie. I also suggested that the men and boys should host a Screen Kiss Night for the ladies and girls once a month to show musicals and great romantic movies.

Usually that's because I'm wound up to tight. But this feels different. I feel good. I am very excited about the future. I can't stop thinking of the possibilities of how I can make a difference in this world. For the first time in a long time, I feel a part of humanity. At this early hour, I just want to say I love everybody out there. Happy Valentine's Day.

These photos were forwarded to me. I love the ingenuity.

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Robert Carmine, Bloodhead, CRC (wearing the infamous SHIRT)

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I remember being in Bombay for a film festival. Walking the streets and seeing a ton of starving children. After awhile I was numb to it. I questioned that in myself. I am always seeking to feel deeply, but something kicks in, preventing me from going all the way. It's probably modern conditioning. I've been accused of being aloof and distant. I don't mind. I took a walk on the beach today and came up on a rotting porpoise. I sat next to it and lit up a cigar. I stayed for quite awhile. The blatant reality filled me with an odd sort of peace. I guess that's just where I'm at right now.

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N. Paine pondering the contributions of Captain Kangaroo


Eric and his great selection of cigars at The Big Easy in Studio City


Self-portrait at The Belmont having a night cap, solo

Trustworthy Marty Stout is gearing up for a trip to New Mexico. He's a big guy with a heart of gold and he's also my brother-in-law. I like how he gives my son wrestling and boxing lessons. It's been paying off at school. Thanks, Marty.


Marty Stout, the perfect soul to pick up this very special bike.

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N. Paine, head of Production M. Cioni, head of Post


CRC & Gary Busey

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What an ugly half-time show, man. The game was great, but is this really what mass America's into? No wonder the rest of the world is pissed at us. It's a bunch of glossy, soulless crap! I heard an unknown New Mexican woman belt out our National Anthem at the El Rey Theatre celebration. It filled me with pride. She should have sang at half-time instead. From the people to the people, man. The glitzy Beyonce's version was a pathetic little sniffle in comparison. Who cares about the nipple reveal, at least that's organic. The whole show was crass and stupid. Go out and listen to the people sing, not the studio. Embrace it.

I got more from these guys with their unpressed suits and missing teeth as they sang "Guantanamera" than anything MTV's ever showed me.

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