We watched this film last night and it rendered me speechless for hours. I'm still not quite over it and I hope that feeling doesn't go away any time soon.

Every single frame of this film is a work of art. You can literally pause it at any given time and what you'll see is worthy of hanging on a wall in a gallery.

And if you are not utterly intoxicated by Rie Rasmussen, you simply are not human.

Photography by Barry Underhill
Photoshop by __wolverine__

Only in LA will you find Placido Domingo conducting the orchestra for a Cronenberg directed Opera with a score by Howard Shore. All of that is taking place at the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion.

You can visit the website here.





(Found via Creepy LA )

I had a fun discovery yesterday. An image by annadevia featuring me playing with the knives in her kitchen was included in a DeviantArt news story about the influence of Hitchcock in art.

You can read the article and see the images included here.

At one of the media dinners I attended recently, I didn't control my alcohol intake as carefully as I usually do. It had a little to do with how very well trained the staff was at the event. But part of it was because I was bored. It wasn't one of my better experiences with regards to the company available. That left me with lots of time to drink while being a stereotypically L.A. blonde and text messaging a girlfriend with my equally uninspired ennui.

The upside to my tipsiness was that I was totally incapable of curtailing my inner monologue. I tossed out a number of witty lines I'm infamous for among my friends. I wouldn't be shocked if I was plagiarized by a nearby writer. I also offered a dim view of the future based on trends in Los Angeles as interpreted by my twisted sense of humor.

That little excursion into the darkness stuck with me because it was just the right amount of entertainingly far fetched yet intriguingly plausible. Since then, I've been building a world that is a combination of post apocalyptic American fascism mixed with a particular time period famous for a salacious underground. It's kind of the same formula that steampunk was born out of but based on a different era and without the obsession with gears. It's definitely noir.

Right now, it's a short story. But if it does well, as I think it will, I may further expand upon the idea. I've finally figured out how to project into the future with my imagination based on both historical data and current events to offer a vision of tomorrow. Of course, like most things with me, these aren't perky thoughts and this extrapolated future suffers from severe yet highly creative depravity.

Day two of the convention was the more serious of the two, given that it was a weekend and people could actually attend without missing work, school or whatever week day life keeps people from recreational endeavors. I was also having bizarre flashbacks as old memories came up from the depths of my experiences. The halls of the Burbank Marriott are full of history for me. They were the setting of a massive transformation, post 9/11, when I had an earth shattering readjustment of what was important in life. They represent the transition from fantasy glamour to real life glamour.

The entire day, I walked about the hotel grounds and the convention center, remembering situations, people and events. I reflected back on the journey I have taken. The convention way back in 2001 after our country's tragedy was the weekend I walked away from pretending to be someone else in a fictional life while playing games to escape. I embraced my fantasies once again and gave them life in the real world.

The next time I would set foot in the Burbank Marriott, I was a guest fetish model for Red Scream Magazine at Fangoria. And this past weekend, I was holding my own in a room full of Hollywood history as an actress. Since 2001, I've lived a couple of lifetimes.

Elizabeth, the other actress I had the pleasure of spending time with this past weekend as we honored Yvonne, and I walked around quite a bit on Saturday. I was struck by the fact that a lot of people have been famous. Conversely, a lot of artists have had busy careers yet never been famous on a truly grand scale. The general public simply doesn't understand that. They think that unless they've heard of you or your work, you're either lying or not that special. I walked by table after table of talent most of you would never be able to identify, myself included, appreciating the fact that anyone who could make a living doing this crazy entertainment job was worthy of respect.

I was very touched by the real pinups of the 50s who wanted to share with us. Dolores Del Monte stood out in that regard. She had an image of herself in a classic Vargas pose that I was madly in love with. She was so proud of her nude work too, much of which was lovely. I told her that there was an entire underground of women who kept alive the memory of what she had spent her earlier life doing.

I heard so many stories over the past three days. I wish I had kept a tape recorder with me. I met a man who incidentally was an Alumni of UCLA (which is why we even started talking), who these days works joyfully as a background artist after spending thirty years being a trial lawyer. He told us a story about Hitchcock on the set of Lifeboat (1944). Apparently Tallulah Bankhead was very upset at some point that another actor wasn't wearing underwear. Hitchcock's response was, "So do you want me to call hair or makeup?"

Another man stopped me out in the hall who had once worked for Bank Of America. He had dealings with Yvonne during her later years. The man had no idea who I was in relation to the convention or Yvonne, so he told me a tale of one of her less graceful days that may or may not be true. He thought she was a terrible person because she was upset about a financial situation he was helping her out with. I calmly reminded the man that everyone, even actors, can have a bad day and that I had personally just chewed out my own bank for a situation in just the past week. Then he asked why we were at the convention. I thought he was going to faint with embarrassment when I told him we were there with Yvonne's son Bruce at a booth dedicated to her career.

Because I was able to pay more attention to what was going on past just our booth, I took greater stock of the celebrity element. Morgan Fairchild was there, looking amazing. Linda Blair, I realized, was ripped. I was so impressed to see older women taking such good care of themselves and still out foxing most of the young women in the room. It was inspirational. I didn't find out until it was much too late that Tippy Hedron was in the room the entire weekend. The chance of that ever happening again is slim to none. I could absolutely kick myself.

Another thing that was strange was how shocked people were that I knew my Hollywood history as well as identified with classic movie stars. I was asked many times who I admired and I didn't mention very many contemporary names. People literally would blink at me. I was called unusual quite a few times. But wouldn't one expect people involved with an event about Hollywood history to know about the history? I started to realize how the immediacy of what's hot now in this town had devalued what came before us all so much that even those people who paved the way for us knew they were no longer powerful or viable by virtue of their lack of monetary draw in this very moment. It made me very sad.

Elizabeth and I had a blast running around all day. We had such a great rapport that we could pass one liners between us without having to explain the subtext. The people watching at fan related conventions is always hilarious. While this convention had nothing on Dragon Con or Comic Con, it wasn't without oddities. I think the most surreal yet entertaining situation was the little hallway just outside the celebrity area. Fans would huddle there, create a game plan and then swoop in to attain the signature of choice after having figured out the perfect thing to say to said celebrity. These were done in sorties that often took half an hour to plan. Because this was such a small convention, I could see these things for the first time in my life. It was fascinating.

After we broke down the booth and said our good-byes, I headed over to the hotel bar to wait for __wolverine__ to come pick me up. It turned out to be a bad idea. The bar was crawling with two sets of convention people and the TGIF bar flies. I sat there with my glass of pinot grigio, looking like I had walked out of a Raymond Chandler novel, feeling like a cliche as the men all around me tried to check me out without actually looking at me. Then, just when I thought the stereotype was about to smother me into a shame induced death, an older blonde actress I couldn't name sat down next to me, ordered a glass of white wine, took one look at me and turned her back to me so she didn't have to see her mortality in my comparative youth. I got up as a young man who makes a living off the hard work of other people's careers swooped in on her to discuss business. I couldn't stomach hearing the conversation nor her misplaced insecurity. She's the reason I can even do what I do. I would have told her that had she given me the chance.

I could probably write about these three days for pages and pages. I had dozens of epiphanies. I met so many people with so many stories to tell. But the single most powerful part of it was the sharing Bruce did. He brought scrapbooks and photo albums that belonged to his mother. One of these scrapbooks contained newspaper clippings from her studio days. It was astonishing to piece together what kind of a woman she was in the face of an era where women were reduced to silly little objects. I could sense her rebelling against that within the articles. Yvonne De Carlo was not a stupid woman. She was self aware, in possession of her personal power, compassionate in regards to humanity and determined to hold her own on her terms. Hollywood has always been hard for women. I felt comforted by the whispers of the past rising from those brittle pages and still ringing true. It was the closest I have ever come to an iconic Hollywood actress. Meeting her in this way, I met DeMille, Jimmy Stewart, Howard Hughs and others.

I walked through a great deal of history this weekend, including my own. I'm overwhelmed, inspired and, yet, more grounded than I have been in years.

Last night saw the official birth of the Indie Film Lounge at Citizen Smith. Everything ran smoothly. Tech issues were my number one concern but we were in excellent hands. (Thanks Mitch!)

Most of the people who came I knew in some fashion with a couple of exceptions. ivy_blue appeared and it is always wonderful to see her. An artist presently working on a noir project I met via RetroKitten came as well. He's newly arrived in Los Angeles by way of New Jersey and already getting his hands dirty. I also met two lovely ladies who came dressed vintage. And, of course, my charming __wolverine__ came along. Seeing him enjoying himself is always a delight.

Todd Wade, the director of The Appointment, was a great guy. I have a lot of respect for filmmakers who finish their movies but this movie was done back before the digital age. It was shot entirely on film and edited old school. I enjoyed his take on noir, though the last scene really did it for me the most. It was heavy with shadow, well acted and had me on the edge of my seat with discomfort.

Overall, it was a bit quiet. We have something truly unique on our hands, though. Even with a small gathering, it was very apparent. Thankfully, everyone involved felt it was worth putting effort into and growing. I'm very pleased by that. I'm not afraid of hard work.

I am completely spent from the stress and hours of starting the promotional machine. I even passed on a couple of auditions that I should have attended. I think it was a gamble that worked in my favor. Oddly enough, running this event is exposing me to more people than the audition process. It was an unexpected perk. I suppose it would seem obvious to most people but I don't take gigs based on how much attention I'll receive. Most of the time, I'm simply passionate about whatever is being done and want in on it.

Next Sunday will be the campy horror of Thomas Madigan. Details will follow soon.

See this movie tomorrow night at Citizen Smith in Hollywood.

8:30 pm
$8

Vintage attire highly encouraged.

"Conscious evolution begins as we take responsibility for clearing our own obstructions." -- Dan Millman


I have been out so much in Hollywood the last seven days, I'm sick of every song on my iPod. And I didn't think I could get sick of that many songs so soon. Now I crave hundreds more.

So, I went out to Marina Del Rey to do some fetish content. The freeze movies were fun. It's an interesting and very visceral fixation that I find fascinating. The variations on it are creative too. I'd like to go into more detail but I'm so tired, my eloquence is already in an exhausted coma. While the work itself wasn't difficult and the gentleman I worked with was marvelous, dealing with the general public both before and afterward was down right draining. Some people are energy vampires to an extreme.

I ran into Karl on the way home. Angels In The Dark is in post production, but he's begun working on another feature about Hollywood Boulevard. If ever there was good fodder for a movie, it's that street. It prompted me to tell him about some of my crazy bus experiences this past week since we both do the bus thing at times. He said he thinks his third movie will take place entirely on buses. I just laughed. It'd be a Clerks for public transportation full of dirty conversations and strange insights springing out of the most unlikely of topics. I swear the most insane things I've ever heard out of people's mouths have all been on buses. Ok. Or in IM conversations on a chat device but that's not quite the same as the audacity of a person face to face with another person totally abandoning all manners or consideration. One takes a great deal more courage to execute.

I had hoped to be off tomorrow but I have spin class and something else that is slipping my aging mind. While I am on the subject, I'm a bit annoyed in the fitness department. I seem to have gained three pounds this past week. I'm sure it's muscle. All the same, it's vexing as the fat I'd like to see melt is still hanging out in all the wrong places. Though, my thighs are rock hard. I could kill things with them. I want to be toned. Now. I'm working hard. Let's see some progress, body!

I received a piece of the Outcry script in email. I didn't expect it to be a bad script by any stretch, but I didn't expect it to be so perfect. I'm madly in love with this movie. It seriously rocks.

I can't believe it's Monday soon and I've got another completely insane week ahead. I hope this new perspective and work process becomes easier soon.

It's the time of year when managers and agencies start looking for fresh talent. Unfortunately, that means I spend a lot of time weeding through people who just want to sell me acting classes, foist me off on a photographer to take new pictures or just generally waste my time in ways that do not benefit me. But, during this process, I do make random connections that end up having some value. Next week will be meeting heavy and I hope to have something positive come from it all.

Ideally, I would have liked to have finished my battle with the gym and be in top shape. I can only continue plugging away and tend to the little details that help create a package. I had no idea how much time and money I was pouring into how I appeared until I had to gear up to take on those habits again. I had foolishly let most of them fall to the way side a couple of years ago. Though, in those two years, they finally managed to come up with a metallic silver nail polish that completely rocks my sox.





I've been communicating again to Karl, the writer/director of Angels In The Dark. He proposed recording an original song written for the film rather than a cover of 'Angel Eyes.' The very execution of that would be another one of those massive life dreams of mine. I'm not a song writer, as badly as I tried to be through school. I was terrible at music theory and my compositions were infantile, though I was trying to do piano pieces that were along classical lines. Lyrics were about all I could handle and setting a melody into pre-existing music is relatively second nature for me. This new avenue for the movie's soundtrack is still in the beginning stages but we'll see where it goes.

On the off chance that you are about this afternoon and you love alternative or goth fashion, you can check out the upstart 'unofficial' Convergence fashion show as it will be broadcast live across the internet via the Someday Lounge. If you're a friend of mme_archel, you'll get to see her sassy little self parade for two different designers. I believe the show starts at 4 pm Portland time.

"Look to the heel, young man. The Sex is in the heel."

-- Kinky Boots



I finally saw Kinky Boots quite by accident last night. I just loved it. It was a timeless tale with modern circumstances and classic for its beautiful truth. Plus, anything about shoes rocks me.

I got up this morning to get ready for an afternoon film noir shoot when it suddenly dawned on me that the whole project had been misrepresented with a snake charmer's skill. It wasn't a photo shoot about creating art. It was a carefully disguised bit of post production or pick up shooting via stills for an on going movie. My final conversation yesterday about details suddenly had more significance than the moment it was taking place. As the morning progressed I grew more and more annoyed at the manipulation. The director had found a sneaky way to make it seem like it was an exchange of creation when, in fact, it was a free way for him to get material he required for his movie. All the prep work leading up to today has been very controlled and micro managed. The shoot would be more of the same. Not quite the fun I had in mind and I don't know that I like the sneaky way of foraging for free talent to finish up a movie - even if it looks like a great piece of work. It's the spirit of the thing. I'm so tired of people in Hollywood trying to use others to get where they want to go. I decided that I had better ways to spend my day than being used disingenuously for which I might get an image or two I could add to my collection.

So, once more, I'm here staring at the fact that I'm not finding what I want or don't have access to the projects I know will provide me the sense of accomplishment I'm craving. I've had a week of tales like the above. And the obvious answer is "create that situation yourself." That comes with a whole other set of problems. I watch my friend Tommy Gunn struggle with the very thing week after week. I just don't know if I want to put myself in the position to be utterly disappointed. Where is the middle ground? What am I missing? Why does anything involving more than one other human have to always be tainted with motives, agendas and general lack of respect? There have to be some good people out there who understand that great work isn't about one person. It's an effort of many with a singular passion.

I have a couple of new moves in the works on the theoretical chess board. We'll see what pans out.





Happy birthday to zebraartist who is a hero to me when it comes to women. I celebrate the life you bring to the earth and the love you spread generously.

I'm only posting a few of these here. The rest are on my website as the latest gallery update.


( More silliness within... )

"The only real security in life lies in relishing life's insecurity." -- M. Scott Peck

Some days are like a shot gun wedding out of the blue. You have to just grit your teeth and deal with it because survival means going with the flow. There will be plenty of time later for knocking heads or hurling high heels. It's a good thing I'm an adrenaline junkie and I get off in twisted ways on messy challenges.

It's been this way all week. Though as the weekend draws near the denouement is winding up for one last shiner on my proverbial face just to remind me whose in charge. Yet, through it all, I've been optimistic and positive, knowing that the law of averages indicates I'll eventually turn a corner and catch my next lucky star. A small part of me is starting to think someone may have hijacked that star I'm counting on and rented it out to some other soul.

I've been turning over stone after stone trying to create opportunities, network and otherwise put myself out there with a single mindedness that I was admittedly rather proud of last night in my bleary eyed exhaustion. With all those seeds planted, I have been certain something would struggle past the soil and blossom. Thus far, it's looking sparse. I have done everything short of standing over the little plot of theoretical soil and scream, "Grow, damn it!" That never works. I can only shut my eyes and place some faith from out of my heart that something will come of my perseverance.

As if things weren't frustrating enough, I had the most humorously vexing conversation with a director/photographer I am possibly working with this Sunday. He wanted to know if I had ever seen any actual film noir movies or was familiar with the actresses. I said I was very educated on the classic genre and was fond of Veronica Lake though her career was a blip in comparison to other leading ladies of noir. And then he queried if I had ever seen Double Indemnity with Lana Turner. (If you know your noir, you'll get why this is ironic.) Inwardly, I shook my fist at the universe silently cursing. Eastern Block men can be taxing but, in his defense, Los Angeles models/actresses can be a dimwitted bunch on the whole. He had no way of truly knowing I knew the genre like the back of my hand or that I was well aware of what colors look white when shot in black and white. The project is his vision and I'm a potential part of the canvas. It's very hard for me to deal with condescending behavior, especially if it comes from a man whose words are dripping with the patronizing tone even after I've offered my credentials in various forms. (Not to mention that it wasn't Lana Turner. It was Barbara Stanwyck.)

I am reminding myself that grace is smiling through it all and moving forward nonplussed. It's only three days of preparation and two hours of shooting. I can make it through that.

But damn if I am not ready for circumstances to stop dealing me such bad hands of cards so I can get in some good playtime. Wild rides are only fun if something delicious happens now and then.

I am not exactly ready or particularly organized, but I'm damn good at prioritizing and pulling miracles out of thin air. I left a lot of little tiny things to do today and those add up. I intended to get up at 6 am but my subconscious laughed with amusement while taking possession of my hand so as to hit the snooze repeatedly for two hours. I woke up at 10 am still playing games with myself that involved bartering favors for a few more minutes of sleep.

I still don't have the DVD. The sound editing was done yesterday and wasn't finished until some ungodly hour in the morning. It's ten minutes in length. That's one hell of a preview.

My phone has been ringing off the hook. I've ignored the calls as none of them are related to anything I care about right now. No, that's not a hint. Don't call me. I am not in a talking mood. I retreat into my head on the days I am performing live.

I have some rhinestone repairs and other little monotonous things to get on top of so I can somehow find the peace of mind to focus on the show. I'm usually lulled into a sense of calm by preshow rituals.

I never manage to get all the things done I want completed before performances - live or filmed. There aren't enough hours or too many variables that pop up. But that's one of the challenges of performing - there is no such thing as perfect. You must work with what you have, make it successful and be capable of just enjoying that however it might fall out. Obviously, if you are an evolving artist, you can often do better in the future. But that's for the next role or project.

I'm in a very strange place between two performances that will both be seen for the first time on the same evening - the live performance for Tax Me Deadly and the one committed to film for Angels In The Dark. I want the live performance to be solid. I am nervous about the one on film that I know for a fact I could do better now if given the chance because I've grown so much as an actor since this time last year. I don't want to get hung up on that, though, and not enjoy what is good about what I did or what I'm doing in the moment on stage that night. I know it sounds as if I am thinking too much but these are things that are popping into my head as April 15th nears and they will very much affect me on that evening. I'd prefer to prepare so as to weather it all gracefully.

I met tonight with Karl to discuss the upcoming show and world premiere of his movie. It struck me as we were talking that I'd be seeing it for the first time the night of the show, which isn't ideal. I'm one of those actors who needs to get over the shock of watching myself and turning off the overly critical voice in my head before I can see the work with a more realistic perspective. When he told me how he cut the trailer, I was even more tense about it. The word is that the final product will be done on Friday, ready to be passed off to us for the show. He called it a super trailer, meaning it will have chunks of scenes and run about five minutes. Most of those scenes are mine. Needless to say, I want to see it in advance so I can be realistic and process how it will be received by others. Eventually, it will be on the internet for everyone to view. Karl told me that the exceptional stuff is all the very last scene we did before I was wrapped for principle photography, though he feels all of my work was solid. I was aware of that final scene being electric as we did it. I can feel good acting when it is happening. When my reactions are genuine and organic, I know that I'm in a truthful moment. The actor I played opposite of pulled some surprising things out of me that night. I loved it. I simply hope it looks as wonderful as it felt to do.

As for the live performance, I'm racing the days and hours, hoping to get as many of the details taken care of I'd like to see addressed.

He is haunting me.

Why?

What do you want from me, Raymond?!

The subconscious is a sadistic creature. I'm in a perfectly great frame of mind. I've cut back on the negative influences that were once more creeping back into my world. I've focused on being in the moment and looking toward the future. Everything is going according to plan or at least within acceptable limits of said plan. But my subconscious is betraying me in my sleep - sending me creepy, nightmarish thoughts while I slumber that stick with me into waking hours. Some of these dreams are so deeply rooted in fact that it's almost difficult at times to separate the fiction. Further, there is nothing I can do about the people or events being conjured. They are no longer relevant or at hand. I feel haunted. It is inconvenient and I plan to take a long walk in the early evening to vanquish what remains of these shades of half truth.

nycbluegirl finished the multimedia piece I posed for a couple of weeks ago. She was quite exuberant while telling me the details of her final touches. I am very excited about seeing it finished at The Hive event this weekend. We're already scheming about working together again though in a very different way.

I've been on the case of our director of Angels In The Dark in regards to what sort of presentation we'll be doing for Tax Me Deadly. That was the original reason I approached Mister Gunn about doing a show. So, I'm rather driven to deliver on that arrangement. We'll be cutting it very close.

I wish I could relate some of the projects/goals I've been slowly working on since the beginning of the year that are just starting to blossom but it's all delicate in nature. It is an exciting time. But, like many things in Hollywood, it could ultimately go nowhere. I can't tell you how many times actors or artists here say, "I'm about to turn that corner to something big!" yet nothing happens. It isn't that these moments aren't authentic. It's that they often fizzle for various reasons out of a single person's control or the steps aren't as mighty as they seem. I also think that these changes can often be very subtle for those of us living them yet make a massive impact on the outside world. I was recently told a story about myself that left me shocked. I had no idea I had made the kind of ripples that were the centerpiece of this tale.

Just another wild week in Hollywood, right?

I'm going to begin by saying that Happy Feet is not a children's movie. It's a preachy, dark piece of work that I haven't decided if I like or not. It did made me think and it was laugh out loud funny at several points. In basic terms of art, it fulfilled certain requirements. But it is not, in my opinion, appropriate for children. Stick to the 'Ugly Duckling' or the other morality tales we traditionally use to teach for the kids. Hell, the movie made me nauseated at points and I'm very much grown up.

When we went to bed, I turned on the television for white noise, as I often do, and Brick had started. I had yet to see this neo noir and I was resisting it because I felt that setting that theme against teenage angst was an annoying concept. I still think that to a certain degree but the writing, acting and cinematography featuring drab locations creatively shot were inspiring. You don't need huge movie stars, expensive locations or fancy special effects much less camera tricks to produce an engaging film. Writing can be the special effect, particularly if it's stunning and unusual. Part of why I love noir and neo noir is the quick paced, witty turn of phrase. Unfortunately, the reality is that most of what passes for true indie film is so badly produced, one forgets that. And those scenes that I felt were ridiculous because of the juxtaposition of classic dark noir plot line set against a teenager's reality were intended to be viewed as jolting or funny. In fact, it's a device we used in Angels In The Dark to a certain degree. So I can't judge too harshly what is ultimately clever.

My only abject thumbs down is for Eragon. Way to rip off about four different intellectual properties and cobble it together into a badly stereotypical Dungeons & Dragon's game. How this kid didn't get the pants sued off of him is beyond me. It also sets a terrible example. It's ok to steal other people's ideas when you are completely bereft of a single original or creative thought. At least it was so utterly unwatchable to the point of being painful it isn't worth remarking upon further.