Thursday, October 28, 2010
The Longest Days
I did get to go to the Mall today again which is great. They know me there by name. I bought cigars and am smoking one, which is really nice, as I trudge on with work. Michael Simmonds our beloved DP arrives tomorrow, and I had a great two line email exchange with Ben Kramer in LA which was awesome, as always. This is pre-pre in Colombia when I should be at a premiere for a film I can't understand. Producing is all about the leisure and perks.
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Colombian Talk Shows
I learned something interesting today about me and Colombia.
When I'm not in the office, which, aside from scouting, is the rarified moment, I am in the Mall. I really don't have the lay of the land in Bogota, and, admittedly, I never thought Malls were all the rage, despite the extreme fun propagated in Mallrats, but I've spent a fair amount of times in Malls since I got to Colombia. First up was a few weeks back in Baranquilla where I ate MacDonalds. Then I bought a thirty dollar Nokia phone and a four dollar wallet at a different one in Bogota. I've pictured each below because, like a father, of my new children I'm proud.
Claudia, who I've mentioned but not formally introduced, is our production coordinator, and it was with grace and precision that she facilitated my new found love for the Malls. She escorted me to the best stores where I pondered purchases of belts, wallets, jousts at pinball and air hockey, and Eurotrash sunglasses and revealing swim trunks (that Jack previously bought) that would provoke my dear mother to disinherit me. Best of all she led me to a fast food eatery whose offerings exceeded my favorite MacDonalds meal in both taste and thrift. Here she is, kind reader. Under her watchful eye I pitifully navigate this foreign land.
When I'm not in the office, which, aside from scouting, is the rarified moment, I am in the Mall. I really don't have the lay of the land in Bogota, and, admittedly, I never thought Malls were all the rage, despite the extreme fun propagated in Mallrats, but I've spent a fair amount of times in Malls since I got to Colombia. First up was a few weeks back in Baranquilla where I ate MacDonalds. Then I bought a thirty dollar Nokia phone and a four dollar wallet at a different one in Bogota. I've pictured each below because, like a father, of my new children I'm proud.
Claudia, who I've mentioned but not formally introduced, is our production coordinator, and it was with grace and precision that she facilitated my new found love for the Malls. She escorted me to the best stores where I pondered purchases of belts, wallets, jousts at pinball and air hockey, and Eurotrash sunglasses and revealing swim trunks (that Jack previously bought) that would provoke my dear mother to disinherit me. Best of all she led me to a fast food eatery whose offerings exceeded my favorite MacDonalds meal in both taste and thrift. Here she is, kind reader. Under her watchful eye I pitifully navigate this foreign land.
From there the day turned sour. I attempted to sneak onto a Colombian talk show called Extra but was promptly escorted out. The show shared the same stage as the Colombian version of Who Wants To Be A Millionaire. Despite my vocation as an independent film producer, my aspirations covertly align with that show's ethos, yet I aborted invasion onto it. Instead, all I earned was this lousy picture before the suits forcibly relocated me to the street's curb.
From there I made a last ditch pitch to convince my actress friend Nora to join us on this culturally enriching adventure. Beg and plead as I did, she refused, for the seventeenth occasion, so the only option I can muster is breaking into tears on a video conference call. Nora. If you're reading, consider this an amazing non-Razzie opportunity! Regardless of her decision, I will always adore her and a special place will always be vacant in my heart for her likes.
Back at my apartment, just got off the phone with Turner and, from the marbles swimming in his mouth, our radically talented (and patient) casting director Susan Paley Abramson and I could only conclude that he was perfecting his Stephen Hawking impression for All Hallows Eve.
I can only imagine what that cruise ship did to my poor business partner.
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Bogota - Day 1 - From Brothels to Academia to Pizza Parties
This morning I weathered my insomnia by exercising the body at 7AM with ten sun salutations. It is impossible for me to type sun salutation without thinking of its irony and humor, as transmitted (prior to any novice knowledge of what a sun salutation actually is) by Jonathan Ames' in his groundbreaking novel, Wake Up Sir. In any event it soothed the nerves and readied me for an occupado day of scouting brothels, strip joints, and universities. A day isn't complete, as my dear followers know, without hitting each of these in the broad daylight.
First off was the 49 Club. 49 Club spans an entire city block, and according to their kindly manager, Orlando, is set to reopen tomorrow--although the renovations looked at least ten to twelve days off from this writer's eye. Regardless, this four storied monstrosity was a site to behold. A bevy of open dance floors snaked away to private VIP areas and apartments that could be rented by the hour. Where I'm from we rent by the month, but perhaps they're on to something. Of particular note was a small casino that I'd gladly wager my wage in for a night. Here's a picture of me and Orlando.
From there my intrepid driver, Claudia, and I carried on to La Piscina, which is, from all internet machine testimonials , the most highly regarded adult establishment in all of Bogota. Even in the daytime, the architecture and design of the place proved it's in the running for the coveted Sweet Times award of "Best Stip Joint Slash Brothel". After entering an ominous looking door in a derelict wasteland of Bogota, we were greeted by the owner and taken to its coliseum-esque main room, where embedded stripped pads with requisite stripper poles floated above a seemingly well-maintained and (disease free) pool. The only negative I could see was that if one were so inclined to take a dip, one would be quickly banished from the establishment, quite possibly forever. Pictured below, who wouldn't want to shake away the days worries with a frosty Club Colombia and a refreshing swim.
From there, we ended the afternoon at a University which was OK. Back to work. My solo pizza party in my hotel room, adjacent to Parque 23, hath begun.
First off was the 49 Club. 49 Club spans an entire city block, and according to their kindly manager, Orlando, is set to reopen tomorrow--although the renovations looked at least ten to twelve days off from this writer's eye. Regardless, this four storied monstrosity was a site to behold. A bevy of open dance floors snaked away to private VIP areas and apartments that could be rented by the hour. Where I'm from we rent by the month, but perhaps they're on to something. Of particular note was a small casino that I'd gladly wager my wage in for a night. Here's a picture of me and Orlando.
From there my intrepid driver, Claudia, and I carried on to La Piscina, which is, from all internet machine testimonials , the most highly regarded adult establishment in all of Bogota. Even in the daytime, the architecture and design of the place proved it's in the running for the coveted Sweet Times award of "Best Stip Joint Slash Brothel". After entering an ominous looking door in a derelict wasteland of Bogota, we were greeted by the owner and taken to its coliseum-esque main room, where embedded stripped pads with requisite stripper poles floated above a seemingly well-maintained and (disease free) pool. The only negative I could see was that if one were so inclined to take a dip, one would be quickly banished from the establishment, quite possibly forever. Pictured below, who wouldn't want to shake away the days worries with a frosty Club Colombia and a refreshing swim.
From there, we ended the afternoon at a University which was OK. Back to work. My solo pizza party in my hotel room, adjacent to Parque 23, hath begun.
Monday, October 25, 2010
Bogota
Yesterday I was in New York City, Santo Domingo, and Bogota. What a wonderful surprise Santo Domingo was, what with their airport and allegiance to Michigan made Dominos Pizza! It was as if I had regressed back to the age of twelve. What a wonderful year that was!
Arriving in Bogota is always a pleasure. The aduana (customs official, for you English-only plebians) seemed convinced I was mctipsy and proposed the idea of sharing a beer as he welcomed me to the country. What a gas! I only had two Aguilas on the plane! Not sure what could've possibly set him off on that course but it was even more fun to correct his presumptions!
But the sweetest news of the day of course is that the good ship that carried Frankie and Jack to Cartagena has officially landed, and they've been met at port by the good people from Dynamo. We will reunite on Saturday in Santa Marta. This will also offer Jack some blogtime (is that a word?) to give us first hand reports of the treacherous and amazing voyage.
Until then, here's a picture of Stefan in a bathtub with Nicole from years ago. I'm awesome at capturing moments. Sweet!
Arriving in Bogota is always a pleasure. The aduana (customs official, for you English-only plebians) seemed convinced I was mctipsy and proposed the idea of sharing a beer as he welcomed me to the country. What a gas! I only had two Aguilas on the plane! Not sure what could've possibly set him off on that course but it was even more fun to correct his presumptions!
But the sweetest news of the day of course is that the good ship that carried Frankie and Jack to Cartagena has officially landed, and they've been met at port by the good people from Dynamo. We will reunite on Saturday in Santa Marta. This will also offer Jack some blogtime (is that a word?) to give us first hand reports of the treacherous and amazing voyage.
Until then, here's a picture of Stefan in a bathtub with Nicole from years ago. I'm awesome at capturing moments. Sweet!
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