Thursday, May 24, 2007

All is Lost

First off, I'd like to thank the producers of LOST for the season finale they delivered Wednesday night. Arguably, the twist was apparent from the first shot, but that was part of the fun. In fact, I pressed play on the DVR, saw the first shot, started to laugh. Before a line of dialogue was uttered, I paused it so I could get some work out of the way before devoting my entire attention to this 2-hour episode.

I know some of you gave up on the show a while ago, but it's been creeping back into my good graces for the past half-season. And it's completely won me back with this season finale. This finale was a reminder of how great the show can be, how superior the writing can be, particularly next to the corpses of the HEROES and 24 finales.

Enough on that.
I forced myself to watch "ON THE LOT", the new reality-competition from the Brundelfly union of Steven Spielberg and Mark Burnett. Yeah, I went to film school and a show like this is all the more excruciating having been through film school.

Apparently 50 filmmakers made the initial cut (out of 12,000?!). I can't speak for how fair the selection process was, but regardless -- quite a feat to have made it into that group.

The first challenge they force upon the filmmakers? Deliver a pitch. Based on a logline that's been randomly assigned to them.

Delivering a pitch is fucking tough. Made tougher with the pressure of it being a reality show.

Predictably, many of them choked. It was a veritable choke-bath. The challenge was clearly designed for maximum choking.

What got me was this one South Asian kid who was just in tears after he choked:

"This is the only good thing that's come along in (a while)..."

I know that feeling. I've been having that feeling for over a year now.

Getting a break that's been a long time coming. Not wanting to blow it. Because they seem so few and far between.

For all the good that's come my way, I'm still anxious that I'm just going to choke at some critical juncture. It fucking blows. It's an awful goddamn feeling. I'd like it to go away.

I've finished the new draft of my script. 109 pages. With a few last minute tweaks, I might be able to scale it back to 108. Either way, it's <110, which is fine.

Paramount should be calling sometime later today. I should have a chance to read it a few more times before I submit it within 48 hours or so. I think I've got it. But I'm too sleep-deprived to say for sure. I've enough time to wring my hands over it, at least...

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