Tribeca Film Festival 2009 Rundown
Hey peeps — if you like movies, the Tribeca Film Festival is a great time to come to New York. It’s also a really special thing to be a part of. Seeing how the machinery works from the inside and being surrounded by creative people is pretty thrilling. It’s even better while eating hot dogs and diner food.
I first came to the festival in 2006. I was wide-eyed and goofy, and had more than a week to motor around, see movies and things, and I had a lot of meetings to take. That was a great first experience in a major film festival environment — the big picture view.
This time was a much more concentrated experience. I was there for four to five days, and most of it was spent preparing for a presentation. It reminded me of how the movie version of Spalding Gray’s Swimming to Cambodia was presented: It begins with Spalding casually walking into the theater, sitting down in front of the audience, and telling his story. This trip was very much like that — walk into an interesting place, tell your story.
Essentially this presentation was a big pitch. Fifteen minutes telling the story of a narrative project backed by animated visuals and music, with Q&A afterwards.
The thing I learned about pitches early on (and learned the hard way) is that preparation is key. I need to have the thing structured, solidified, and memorized. I need to practice it until it’s second nature — run it at least fifty times. Not only must I know the words — I need to own them.
Then the nervousness doesn’t matter. “The willies” don’t matter. Once I own the words and my body has complete muscle memory over the whole thing, as soon as I hit it, I’m performing and my nerves go away.
I knew I would be nervous. I was nervous. I have this fear of blanking out when I get nervous — but I know that once I get started and get that very first line out, I always do fine. So what I do is begin every memorized presentation with “Hello, my name is Michael Golamco.” That way I can’t blank out because it’s sort of impossible to forget my own name.
And then I hit it. When I’m well prepared I can relax and have fun. I can savor it.
Confidence sells. In the end we are all a bunch of really well-dressed chimps, and we look for the most confident chimp to invest our bananas in.
This is why the Scout motto is Be Prepared.
New York: I love this city. Before I used to think I could live there, but now… Not so much. I do love it, but I can’t see a place for myself there. I’m older now, and the rush of humanity has crossed the line away from being endearing.
Diner food will always be my late-night food of choice. The ingredients and composition of LA diner food is the same, but it feels different. Like a crummy photocopy. Maybe it’s because it knows that it’s not being eaten in the greatest city on earth.
On this trip I fulfilled a goal and ran the perimeter of Central Park. It only took about an hour and twenty minutes. It was hot — the sun beat down, the pavement was uneven, the milling people required a lot of zigzagging around. But it was good. It was like being in a training montage.
And you really can’t beat the food in the city: Chat N’ Chew, with its superlative mac and cheese and pork chops. Korean food on 32nd street. Ice cream from a Mister Softie truck on a hot day.
Highlight of the trip: Being at a party downtown, talking to a friend, blah-blah-blah yada yada, then suddenly seeing De Niro walk in. New York experience: COMPLETE.
Year Zero World Premieres at Victory Gardens
So it’s here: The world premiere of Year Zero at Chicago’s venerable and wonderful Victory Gardens Theater.
It’s not every day that a Tony Award winning theater puts on a show about a sixteen year old Cambodian American kid that writes rap lyrics and plays Dungeons and Dragons. This is something different.
John McCain Gets Very Angry When You Stop Following Him on Twitter
Fiction.
I was relaxing with my best friend — a neat glass of scotch — when the phone call came in the afternoon. When I picked up, all I heard was silence on the other end.
Well, not just silence — forced, irate breathing. Easily recognizable breathing.
“John?” I said into the phone, “John, is that you?”
“Paul.” he said slowly, stretching my name out into four angry syllables.
“What’s the matter, John? You sound upset.”
“I was just checking my Twitter account,” he rumbled, “And I noticed that you stopped following me, Paul.”
Oh shit, I thought, they can track that sort of thing now?
In a second he went from Angry McCain to Disappointed McCain: “I thought we were friends, Paul!” he said.
“We are friends John,” I said, “I’m still trying to figure this Twitter thing out.”
“Oh for pete’s sake Paul — I just looked at your account and you’re still following Huckster (@GovMikeHuckabee) and Hillary (@ClintonNews). God damn it, you’re even following That One (@BarackObama)!” He let out a wounded little laugh.
“Okay John,” I said, thinking that it was time for a little straight talk, “You want to know why I stopped following you? This is why: You post a lot of inane stuff. Nobody cares if they’ve run out of Cowboy Burgers at Applebee’s. No one cares that you’re sad because Battlestar Galactica is over. Nobody wants to know when Joe Lieberman farts in the car. Nobody gives a crap about that stuff — even when it comes from you, John.”
“Okay…” he muttered. John McCain was never one to take criticism well. “Well,” he said, “What about when I posted that picture I made of Palin’s head photoshopped onto a moose?”
“Okay — yeah — that was funny as shit,” I replied.
We shared a good, long laugh.
“Listen,” I said, “Forget about it. I’ll re-add you.”
“No, no no — you don’t have to, Paul.”
“No, I’m going to do it right now John.” I said. “There. It’s done.”
“Thanks Paul,” he said. “Look — I’m still working out the kinks. Meghan’s (@mccainblogette) a lot better at this than I am.”
“Well Meghan’s a very intelligent young lady,” I said, “And she’s hot as shit.” — although I only thought that last part instead of actually saying it because this wasn’t CPAC.
Cowboy Versus Samurai at SUNY Geneseo
Hey everybody, everybody’s favorite reinterpretation of Cyrano featuring ninjas and grappling hooks arrives at Geneseo at the end of this month.
I try to support students whenever I can because I was once a student myself. Chain smoking in front of Powell Library, eating late night, deep fried snacks from Puzzles up at the dorms. Yeah, you know what I’m talking about.
They were good, wonderful days. So it’s kind of awesome to be able to share something back. Break a leg, young people!
Young Man Wins Lottery; Starts All-Female Wrestling Promotion with Jimmy Hart
Only in America, people. Only in America.
This makes me really happy. It’s pretty much the absolute personification of the American dream.
A 19 year old man wins $35 million in the lottery. But instead of playing it safe and merely partying it up, he says to himself, “You know what I want to do? I want to start an all-female wrestling promotion.” And he goes out there and he does it.
That’s what it’s all about, people. That’s what America is fuckin’ about. That’s what we call a massive victory of imagination. The mundane has been carpet-bombed into oblivion. This is why we won the cold war, you commie motherfuckers!
And guess who’s involved? That’s right — the “Mouth of the South”, Jimmy Hart. Notice that he hasn’t aged since the 1980s because he has been cryogenically frozen until a future time when he could come back to head an all-female wrestling promotion.
That time has come. Check the website.
This is why the terrorists hate us: Because they want to be us. U-S-A! U-S-A!
This Copy of “Bolt” Should Lessen the Sting of Not Being the Center of the Universe Anymore
We’re going to our friends’ kid’s birthday this weekend. He’s turning one. The first year birthday is an auspicious birthday for Filipinos since it means that you’ve managed to survive a year in the Philippines. That’s quite an accomplishment considering all the snakes, the high-cholesterol Filipino food, and the gangs of tiny, angry monkeys.
So I was puzzling over what to get this kid. I usually give people coupons for lap dances and GCs for Hooters, and I’m told this would be inappropriate. So we’re settling on getting him some books and plush stuff — I mean, who really remembers what they got for their first birthday? All you really care about is the fact that you can still put your foot in your mouth and taste your toes.
Into the mix is the fact that our friends have another kid who is three years old, and with everyone celebrating someone else’s birthday and not his, he is about to realize that he isn’t the absolute center of the universe anymore. So your humble narrator pulled a power move and also got Disney’s “BOLT” on DVD for the entire family so that the three year old doesn’t feel left out.
It sucks to realize that the world doesn’t revolve around you anymore. It’s kind of an existential crisis, and that’s sorta hard to deal with when you’re three. Hopefully this animated movie will lessen the pain.
This Texan Lawmaker Wants Me To Change My Name For Her Convenience, So I Will Oblige Her
This white-haired Texan ghoul is right. This is America dammit, and none of us (myself included) can be bothered to take the time to ask how to properly pronounce someone’s name. We’re too busy eating for that kind of horse puckey!
I know that “Golamco” is very hard for Western vocal chords to pronounce, what with its strange mix of vowels and consonants. The original spelling of our name had 17 letters (including two umlauts), but an Ellis Island clerk simplified it for us back in the 1890s.
So I’m on a mission to choose a kickass new American name for myself. Apparently “Michael Ironsides” is already taken, which is disappointing to me. I like “Mike Death” (“Michael Death” sounds a little too poncy). Also, “Michael Murder-Kill-Vicious” sounds appropriately awesome. It fits my personality.
Something that is imminently pronounceable would be good too. Like “Michael Ugg” — my last name would literally be a guttural noise that would be easy for any American to make. Or instead of having to pronounce something, maybe my last name could consist of a sound effect. Like smacking a table, clapping, or farting.
I have found that “Michael” is also rather hard to pronounce, and various people keep misspelling it as “Micheal” and “Asshole”, so maybe I should redo my entire name all at once. “Johnny Muscles” sounds good and appropriate. So does “Herb Firecrotch”.
You know you live in a great country when decaying, undead beings can still hold public office in Texas and offer up their savvy opinions. U-S-A! U-S-A!
My Work in Print
Year Zero
Available from Samuel French and Amazon.com
Cowboy Versus Samurai
Available from Samuel French and Amazon.comFor a complete list of books containing my work, please click here.
