Do you ever hear music and it reminds you of friends you once had, that have since disappeared, into their own lives and down their own paths. All the sweat, smiles and tears that you shared. Dreaming together, late at night, on the balcony over a pack of cigarettes watching the rain fall. Talking about the future. Making it, getting famous, ODing and waking up with half of your brain in the sink and half your stomach in the toilet. Pissing down your leg and hoping not to choke on your vomit.

Images from the past to keep around, haunt you late at night when you can't sleep and you wonder if you could have held on longer. Forging friendships, crushing friendships. Repeat.

When did it become fashionable to lose your mind and completely change the person you are? Everyone always says "people don't change", but that's bullshit. People change, and they'll do it without warning and as abruptly as they can. It'll leave you reeling, confused, inverted. People become completely different people and forego the progression. It's more shocking that way. It's more dramatic. There doesn't need to be motivation. Motivation is just a device we use to make ourselves feel brother.

Procrastination is like masturbation...
It's a lot of fun until your realize you just fucked yourself.

Of course, that's only a problem if you mind fucking yourself. Which I do not.

Of course, this is how I work. Last minute. Pounding headache, body lined with coffee, veins pumping Rockstar, and stitched with caffeine pills.

So, yeah, I like to fuck myself. Because the end product is usually unexpectedly acceptable.



10 HOURS LATER

At the moment, I am currently printing 100 pages.

That's right, I finished. With one hour and thirty-six minutes to spare, my adaptation of The Lemming Condition is complete. My first "adaptation" - not original material. Clocking in at 97 pages - 100 if you count the alternate ending I tacked on for fun - this is my longest feature script to date.

Which isn't saying much, since my only other feature lenth script - Malaise - was 91 (although the old old old draft from 2002 or so was 124 pages, but that was filled with terrible formatting and screenwriting faux pas).

As usual, I don't even know what I think of this script yet. I haven't read it. I just wrote it. I'm sure some of you must know what I mean by that. There were moments of intense writing for hours on end, and moments of banging my head agaisnt the wall, and cursing my stupidity. I guess that's just how I roll, though. Apathy - Dedication - Frustration - Fruition. Or something along those lines.

I'm surprisingly happy with this script. Especially considering it began witha nervous breakdown, emails to the teacher expressing my fears and qualms that ultimately ended with the question - "How much does your liking the script affect my grade?"

At least, I'm really happy with the last 30/45 pages of it. The middle I'm too burned out to remember very well.

And yet, as happy as I am, I'm absolutely fucking terrified of the critique. Which i still a week off. I just don't know how people are going to react to a story that begins with cute lemmings running around, talking, and hanging out on "Kite Hill" to a blood soaked, violent, twisted, and probably my most sadistic ending I ever wrpte. I deviated a lot from the book (since, basically, there wasn't nearly enough material in the book to fill 90 pages - or a feature film screenplay). The ending in particular is a hundred times darker and sicker than the book. I guess the ending is the part I'm most nervous about, because it's not what people are going to want to read, or really expect out of this story.

I don't know, I'm rambling. I've been typing all night and now I cannot stop. How insane is that?

For those wondering about my substance abuse over the last 10 hours of writing -
6 caffeine pills
2 Rockstar energy drinks
1 pot coffee w/ "latte" creamer
1 pot green tea
1 pack of Camel Lights
3 battles with Atticus
3 breaks - one 45min, two 15 min ( one spent posting messages to SPF about 24 and talking on AIM, the other a shower to wake up)
Unknown .. of toilet breaks (after all that liquid, I lost count).

Some people may know Matthew Barney as the creator of the 5-part Cremaster Cycle series of films. I remember one day sitting with David and Stu watching the trailer for the films and being in total awe of the production design, style and music of the films. Discovering that they're shown in art galleries, and the excessively limited print DVDs (10 pressings per film...) were only available for a huge amount of money (last auction went for about $300,000 for one of the films). It seemd like the most amazing epic series of films that we would never see.

Then I downloaded The Order (a 45 exceprt from Cremaster 3) and Cremaster 1.... and... well... while the production value was there, their presence as a "film" (art film or otherwise) was not. Basically, David and I felt it was just rather boring. I still wouldn't mind watching all of them since their aesthetics are indeed stunning, but the format in which they're exhibited (episodes 1-5, back to back, at a museum) seems like a daunting task. Cremaster 3 is 3 1/2 hours on its own. I don't know if I could take watching all those movies, such as they are, in a marathon like that...

But I digress...

Drawing Restraint 9 could very well have been Cremaster 6 and I doubt anyone would have questioned it, even if officially the theme is different. Cremaster is about the eventual distinction between the male and female sex (on a biological level) while, officially, DR9 is about "self-imposed limitation". But good luck figuring that out on your own, without the aid of the press release summary (which, I have to wonder if Barney even wrote...)

Basically, for two and a half hours (which feel like 4), various would-be ceremonies are peformed and laboriously and lavishly filmed. You will see all this:
- A big boat
- Confused Japanese people
- A large vaseline sculpture of the "field emblem" (think of a capsule with a line through it) being made.
- A large vaseline sculpture of the field emblem falling apart... slowly.
- A big.. rock... thing.
- Matthew Barney getting a medieval Japanese haircut and his eyebrows shaved off.
- Bjork taking a bath with oranges floating around, then having her eyebrows shaved off and dressed like a geisha.

I won't ruin the "ending" for anyone, but I will say that of all the events that transpire in the course of the film, the last 30 minutes are the most interesting.

Well, fuck it, I will ruin the ending. They turn into whales. But not before first slowly dismantling each other's legs with knives, starting at the ankle.


I know this sounds like a negative review, but it's just that I don't really know what to say about Drawing Restraint. The most certain thing I can say is that it's too long and too slow. Now I know, as someone who adores 2001: A Space Odyssey to no end and generally heralds it as the pinnacle of filmmaking thus far, it's weird for me to say such a thing. But the length and slowness of 2001 have a thematic and narrative point. Plus, all the slowness builds up to an amazing climax. DR9's narrative is almost non-existant, which is fine, but without the aid of a narrative to support what you see, it's difficult to maintain interest. Added to this is the fact that there is only one scene of dialogue, the rest of the audio track is music composed by Barney's wife and co-star, Bjork. All of these facets sometimes make the film feel more like an endurance test than a piece of art cinema.

The most frustrating aspect of anything I've seen by Matthew Barney is that he somehow manages to leap from the most amazing, beautiful, disturbing or otherwise fascinating images - to the most banal and boring things you can imagine (like, literally watching the vaseline dry... it ain't paint, but it might as well be). Then back again. There's no question that his films have a distinct look and style, but there's no consistency in them. There are moments of incredible imagination in DR9, but there are also moments where it's impossible to not wonder how much longer one is going to have to sit around and watch. Even Kate, who I feel is much more forgiving of modern art than I am, was checking her watch.

So... uh... I don't know what to say, and I don't know if that's good or bad. I guess all I can say is go see for yourself, so you can be as confused as I am.

Rant: Kate and I debated on if Barney was a "filmmaker" or "performance artist" before seeing this film. Then discovered he considers himself neither, but rather a sculptor. Which confused both of us. Barney's credits on DR9 are as "actor", writer and director. The prosthetics and special visual effects are credited to other people. To me, if Barney doesn't want to be known as a filmmaker then 1) There shouldn't be posters for DR9, 2) There shouldn't be standard title cards and credits 3) He should do something besides write, direct and "act". DR9 follows all the format conventions of a "film". If it's so important you not be labled a filmmaker, then don't package the film as a film.


Inappropriate observation: Bjork's pubic hair is out of control.