Tuesday, September 14, 2010


Detention is an independent movie completely financed by myself, some creative loans, outside funding including family cash, and even some crew money. At this point, I probably owe some money to Jabba the Hutt as well. But I have bartered cowriter Mark Palermo’s body away as collateral so I have some time here.

What this ultimately means is that it’s a truly independent movie that has given me the oppurtunity to call the shots exactly the way I want them. Zero interference, complete creative control. So this will come straght from my head into your body, just like a casting call with an A list video director.

In otherwords, rape.

Speaking of which, let’s talk about director sex. My director friend Paul Hunter visited the set the other night and commented how I always seem to have the hottest girls on my shoots, which is funny since I think the same of his sets. Every video director thinks the other director has hotter girls.

Essentially on a biblical level, we covet each other’s goats that Yahweh has forbidden us to eat. We nerds don't eat the goats - AKA screw the girls - because of one big reason:

Filmmakers are boring.

We're not rock stars. We're dentists. We look at people's teeth and think to ourselves, "could be whiter." If Rock 'n Roll is highschool, directors are yearbook staff. If actors are the brightly colored tangs and clowns in a fishtank, we're the ugly gray thing sucking on the glass to make it clean. 

If we had real personality, we'd be in front of the camera. If we had a modicum of good looks, we probably wouldn't have had to fight so hard to be "The Man."

I actually think this is beyond sociological. It's pure evolution. Each abdominal muscle you lack equals $500,000 in net worth you must own to get laid with an equivalent quality of female that a man with a six pack would get. I would argue the better looking you are, the shittier director you probably are. This is Kahn's Recipricol Equation of Nerd Success.



On a purely objective level, this face ain't gonna get him laid:


And neither will this guy's:


Now, if the three guys above made a television show about how they got rich and then started boning every starlett in Hollywood, that would still be a flop, because when the camera actually try to film these victory laps, there'd be no footage.

If the fellow ugly director by the name of Spike Lee made a film about my life, it would be titled: I Still Got No Game.

There is only so long you can fake being cool before you revert to your natural state of pussy-free comic book reading and Spielberg dvd marathons.

For the curious, the upkeep on a hot Hollywood girl is not terribly expensive for a reasonably successful director. It consists something along the lines of this:

1)      Sushi and drinks, with a +2 guest list for her girlfriends ($500)
2)      An occasional gift with Prada written somewhere on it ($2,000)
3)      V.I.P. table at hollywood club with Cristal ($3000)

This gets you the starter package. This is either the young wide-eyed actress/singer/model who just got here from Iowa in her hoopty car, or the drunk old chick who has fucked her way down the food chain until she's left with pathetic you and even more pathetic stories about Kelly Slater back in 1994.

So ultimately, this will never work. You may get the sex, but she's just doing Kelly Slater's favorite positions when he was into Pearl Jam. And ultimately, you're gonna just wanna watch The Color Purple.

Spielberg. He knows your favorite positions.

Now on the flipside, there are the girls who actually dig your personality, your intelligence, and your passion for your artform.

These girls are called PretentiousTM.

I have had two times in my life where I was going to get laid, but ended up in an argument where I have to defend Spielberg against her ranting on the superiority of independent movies, foreign films, or independent foreign films excluding the Republic of Ghana. Because Ghanans are sell outs.

The first time was when I was 19. I was a college dropout working behind a movie counter shuffling popcorn. Somehow I had convinced a local Texas model/aspiring filmmaker I was going to be a BIG SHOT one day, and it was inevitably going to lead to my spectacular de-virginification. But she felt Spielberg was a hack, and I defended him in a way she felt was over-simplifying and unintellectual.

She was 18 and modeled jeans at Target.

Years later I was in Puerto Rico on a location scout. A drunk American girl recognized me from television and invited me up to her apartment after the bars closed. This scenario does not happen as often as you think. Some aspiring directors imagine this kind of score as frequent as a basketball score of 86 to 84, but really, the score tally works more like low point soccer. Lots of running around and then standing at the end of the day trying to kick just one goddamn ball past the goalie.

And this drunk goalie blocked all my shots with one simple defense: The Spielberg-is-not-a-real-filmmaker knee to the groin. So instead of sex, I get an intellectual debate on my pathetic and shallow taste in movies. Puerto Rico 1, Spielberg 0.

I feel sorry for all you guys who want to be Michael Bay. Suckers.

Friday, August 6, 2010

My Lunch Meeting Yesterday

Conversation with my Executive Producers yesterday...

Tuesday, July 27, 2010

The Conversation

Just drove back from lunch with Mark Palermo. He pointed out that there is another Jennifer Aniston movie coming out.

Me: You love Jennifer Aniston.

MarkPalermo: You love Lisa Kudrow.

Me: You love Robin Givens.

MarkPalermo: You love Alfre Woodard.

Me: You love Jason Patrick.

Mark Palermo: You love David Boreanaz.

Me: You love Fran Drescher.

Mark Palermo: You love Annie Potts.

7-27-10. 2:34 PM. MARK PALERMO WIN.


Sunday, June 6, 2010

How To Be A Director

How to be a director

I’m currently prepping an independent movie that I am spending my own money on. Hollywood rule number one is to never spend your own money on a project, but if you can’t invest in something you believe in, then burn your money anyway. I’ve been reluctant to make another movie unless a script comes across that I absolutely love, and that script has never surfaced. I think I hate the stories Hollywood wants to tell. They bore the shit out of me.

So with the Canadian Mark Palermo™ I wrote one. I’m assembling my video and commercial crew to make it in the way I want - no fucking interference. Anyone who follows my video work knows this is my modus operandi. I do one for them, I do one for me. Before I do my next studio feature, I just need to do one totally for me...and that may mean for you too. I’m going to make a movie I want to see, period. I think there are enough of you out there curious enough to see what that means. 

So as I start my journey, let me help you with yours. I am going to help you aspiring filmmakers by posting advice I wrote a while ago.

How to be a director.

Let me break it down for you, brothers and sisters.

Lets begin with the basics.

The Closed Eye Camera Concentration Pose is a fundamental skill that must be mastered. Notice the light touch Oliver Stone has on the extended eyepiece and the graceful arch of his back. Everything comes together effortlessly. A collared long sleeve shirt creates a nice slimming v-line down the front, making him look like a natural born killer.  

After about ten years, you can move on to Angry Director Pose in which the camera sits below you...

Here Mark Romanek demonstrates absolutely perfect form as his hand is extended onto a lens, mouth open, brows pressed. Notice how the video monitor lands right in front of the camera assistant's face, allowing us to take in the breathtaking power of the pose without distracting below-the-line interference.

Yet...you can still infer the assistant is female, thus granting Romanek a liberal, progressive political bent that will be very useful in wooing movie stars like Tom Hanks.

After decades of practice,  your Angry Director Pose can reach undreamed levels of intimidation. Here, Stanley Kubrick asks for coffee.


Another critical skill a director must wield is the power to make an imaginary camera with your hands. There are many variations of this technique, but the most simple and elegant I have ever seen is Steven Spielberg's Victory Point.

I have attempted to use the Victory Point myself, but could not wrap my eyes between the points of the fingers, and the mysterious positioning of the thumb adds a level of thematic complexity that is hard to fathom. What is the thumb? Why is he smiling? What does it all mean?

In the hands of a benevolent Spielberg, the power of the Victory Point can bring joy and laughter to the world. However, in the hands of an angry Spielberg, the Victory Point can bring death and destruction. Here, Spielberg balls his fist and brings down a rain of locusts on Brett Ratner.

The Hands of Cinema, as demonstrated by Ridley Scott, is a classic, timeless tool of the director. Peering between your hands at an invisible movie screen brings much joy to actors. Notice the rare pacified look on Russell Crowe's face.

One of the most powerful moves in a directors arsenal, the Hands of Cinema should be used sparingly and in complete silence. Here Steven Spielberg accidentily spreads the fingers of his left hand. Five production assistants died of heart attacks.

When you reach Grand Master status as Martin Scorsese has here, the Hands of Cinema will project beams of light and Leonardo DiCaprio will sit in awe, offering prayers to your Immortal Power.

Now, this is a very advanced technique...

Coppola has broken the Hands of Cinema and uses the remaining energy to turn the photograph black and white. The visual impact of using one palm is so great that Coppola has hypnotized Steve Jobs to pay him money.

Moving along students, study the following closely:


Notice how Naomi Watts is in complete awe as David Lynch weilds The Palm. The sunken headphones add a nice touch as Lynch is sending mixed messages: his ears are open, but he denies her his eyes. This push/pull technique is highly effective at controlling your actors, allowing you to mindfuck and then bang your lead actress, thus achieving ultimate victory for you nerds.

Which brings us to:


Now I love M. Night films, but here he is in poor form. His shoulders are hunched, his face shows slight concern, and he has allowed a man in a sweater to lurch over his shoulder. Even though Night later had the man executed, I still think it was poor form to allow this to happen. In my opinion, the entire Assistant Director department should have been executed as well.


Now here Night is in top form. His tight expensive t-shirt flawlessly shows his biceps and his nipples peek out from a set of well developed pecs. I think it was a good call not to look into the camera otherwise his physique would not have been in perfect alignment. He looks very fuckable.

And finally:


Now at first glance this would seem to be an innocuous photo of David Fincher demonstrating the Closed Eye Camera Concentration Pose, but if you look closely, Fincher is looking through with his left eye. Fincher believes that the left eye is connected to the right creative hemisphere of the brain, so by using his left eye he can process images with more nuance. This true story - I shit you not - is a perfect application of creating a completely insane mystique about yourself and scaring the living daylights out of stoned film students.

I hope this has helped all of you. Go forth and rule the world.

Wednesday, March 10, 2010

Chinese Guy

Jackie Chan does all his own stunts. But what you don’t know is before he does his insane leap from one building to another, he has another Chinese Guy jump first just to test it out. If that guy lives, then Jackie jumps on film.

Everybody should have a Chinese Guy.

Jackie has a Chinese Guy.

And I have a Chinese Guy. His name is Dan Ming.

Dan Ming

I recently shot a charity video for Haiti. Before I went into Haiti, sneaking through the Dominican Republic border, I sent Dan Ming in advance of me. He thought he was there to shoot some additional b-roll footage, but really I was just checking to see if he would die. Two days later, emaciated, hardened, living on a diet of ginseng roots and dried shark fins, it was clear Dan was only 56.75% likely to die from the experience.

That was good enough for me and TK.*

*TK organized the trip. Me, him, a Haitian production assistant, and whatever we could carry on our backs. A year ago I was shooting in Africa. When we were done, TK stayed behind and hitchhiked into the Congo where he spent a month in jail being accused of being a CIA agent. So the point is, we had no idea what the fuck we were doing in Haiti.

But his blog is not about Haiti. This blog is about How To Own Your Own Dan Ming.

First, ownership is not a hobby. It is a responsibility. Yes, owning a Dan Ming can be a very rewarding experience, but remember, Dan Ming was Made in ChinaTM. Do not let children under five years old play with him unsupervised in lieu of choking hazards.

I used to think he was C-3PO because there were many similarities between them. Skinny yellow robot, skinny yellow man. One is fluent in three million galactic languages, the other speaks three million forms of Friend Zone. You can detatch C-3PO's limbs; Dan likes yoga. They both like white chicks.

Dan Ming likes white chicks.

But having travelled the world over with my Chinese Protocol Droid, I realize he's not C-3PO at all. C-3PO wore the same yellow suit wherever he went. Dan Ming morphs. No matter what climate or culture we get dropped in, Dan is like a magical GI Joe figure with an endless line of accessories (though he was clearly designed by George Lucas). I have no idea where Dan stores the clothes he does for every location we go to. As far as I know, all he brings with him on the plane is his iphone, several thousand dollars*, and three or four relatives in the cargohold.

*Chinese people do not like debt and therefore avoid credit cards whenever possible. This makes them extremely attractive to home invading Korean thugs. But warning…Dan's ancestors were all eunuchs who got their balls chopped off - yet they still managed to breed. The only other creatures that ever managed to do this were the velociraptors in Jurassic Park.

When you buy your own Dan Ming, don't expect him to just start entertaining you with his fancy costumes and ability to pass off low waisted hugs as harmlessly platonic. First of all, when you open the box, you might be shocked to see how much assembly is required:

(extra small child labor hands sold seperately)

This may be an overwhelming challenge to assemble your first Dan Ming, but listen up White People, if you can take 30 minutes to assemble the Ikea Svortik Coffee table, you can take the fucking time to click Dan Ming's leg into place. Or at least activate Dan's head so that he can instruct your maid in Spanish to do the rest.

So now you've activated your Dan Ming. Where to start? What to do? I suggest exploring DESERT DAN mode.

This starter position is a good way to get acquainted with the basic survival mechanism of your Dan Ming, namely his uncanny ability to recirculate his urine internally to keep himself hydrated. In combination with Chinese herbal remedies, Dan Ming can survive indefinitely in the desert. Give him a supply of tiger penis powder, and he will actually turn into a terracotta soldier and live forever.*

*I have never eaten tiger penis powder, but I would assume it tastes something like Goretex- the waterproof material that covers rain gear and Canadians. One day scientists plan to clone human cells around Goretex creating artificial organs. I believe science has not only created that organ, it has created an entire man out of Goretex.

That man is Dan Ming.

GORETEX DAN is waterproof and virtually indestructible. His shiny high tech blue skin deflects gun shots and racial taunts.

However, he is not completely invincible as you can see below.

STRENGTH: 18 (+2)

STAMINA: 17 (+3)



WISDOM: 17 (-2)

The blue goretex armour decreases his Wisdom enough that high level Wizards have a good shot at him. I would suggest using a MAGIC FIREBALL and aiming it at his iphone. After slaying him, collect gold coins, health potions, and $6300 in US cash.

For those of you who might still be thinking – "I like Dan, but…I wish he were more white." The new upgrade comes with a SCUBA DAN mode.


White chicks like to strap explosive water tanks onto their backs and swim underwater. White guys end up strapping on tanks and following them, sometimes to their own deaths. This is where western culture's fascination with mermaids comes from. Also, it's why Australia exists.

If Dan ever dies, it will surely be underwater trying to give a friend zone hug to a busted Nicole Kidman looking mermaid.

There are no mermaids in the Middle East, but there is IRAQI FREEDOM DAN.

 GI Cho

If we're ever serious about catching Osama Bin Laden, activate five of these tough sons of bitches. There is no IED in the world that can blast through Dan's schzechuan skin.

Of course sometimes, Mings go bad. Bin Laden could get wise and offer him 72 busted Nicole Kidman looking mermaids to flip sides, and then we would have to contend with the ultimate weapon of mass destruction - AL QAEDA DAN.

His WMD is MSG.

Thankfully, an actual Ming did go to heaven and all that happened was the mermaids played Charlotte Gainsbourg records, nullifying Osama's offer.

Finally, for advanced collectors, you can play with Dan in the snow. Collect enough Mings and you can invade Planet Hoth and crush the Rebel Alliance once and for all.

Charlie don't ski.

Anyway, the point of this blog is that two weeks ago Dan died in a horrible sudoku accident. We will all miss him.*

* Obviously not true. It's hard to kill a man who drinks tiger penis powder.