Well, dear readers, I am sitting here like so much fish, listening to Vaughan Williams’ wonderful seventh symphony, Sinfonia Antartica, based on his film score to Scott of the Antarctica starring John Mills. I go back to these symphonies quite often, as you know, whether the older recordings like Boult or Previn, that latter of which I’m currently listening to because it is a wonderful recording as are the rest of Previn’s Vaughan Williams symphonies, to the newer recordings like the excellent set by Andrew Manze, which I was very impressed with. But you really can’t beat the RCA stereo recordings, which are alive and detailed and Previn has a real affinity for this music. I just watched the little outtakes thing we put together from Sami. We found a handful of fun things to dole out over the next week, so that was fun to do. We didn’t have that many because I was shooting very fast and everyone knew I was a one or two-take kind of guy. One of the outtakes truly made me laugh out loud. It’s a close-up of Liz Larsen watching Sami do a musical number in episode one. We used in the show her funniest reaction, but at the end of the song, which Sami was singing off-camera to give them something to react to, Sami can’t find the notes she’s supposed to sing and it’s really funny hear her try a mélange of notes and she never does find it. Other than that, I did watch a motion picture last night – I had to start it over because within thirty seconds I was asleep and missed the first twenty-five minutes. The movie was called Wicked a 1998 movie that was actually filmed the year prior to that, starring a very precocious fifteen-year-old Julia Stiles. It’s a nasty little thriller that probably couldn’t get made today, in that involves precocious fourteen-year-old girl who loves her daddy a little too much and daddy is too weak to, how shall we put it, resist. Yes, just another happy thriller centered on incest. They especially could not cast someone under eighteen now because I think you can imagine the uproar. Stiles is very good in it, Michael Parks plays a detective, so I think maybe you can see who this director’s main influence was but if not I’m happy to tell you. There are three clear influences, two of which are immediately on view – Mr. Brian de Palma and Mr. Spielberg. When Mr. Parks appears, we suddenly enter David Lynch Twin Peaks territory, both musically and visually. But the writing is so bad it’s cringeworthy, the direction has style but it’s the style of those three other filmmakers, the score has its moments – Cliff Martinez – but in the end, the characters are silly and the actors can’t fight the terrible dialogue. The best part was my friend Linda Hart had a nice supporting role and they even let her sing, which made me think that perhaps the director knew her stage work or was friends with her.
That was pretty much the evening, although I did have a nice telephonic conversation. I found out our press release will go out today and then I think we’ll all have some interviews to do next week. I’m still pondering doing the private screening of episode one for a select group of people, followed by a Zoom Q&A with the cast. We have to coordinate it, which will take some doing. We shall see.
Yesterday was both difficult and fun. The difficult, of course, is stress-related, the fun, of course, was going to Marshall Harvey’s abode and digging around for outtakes. I only got a bit less than seven hours of sleep, so I was tired. After we finished rummaging around for the outtakes, we went to the Coral Café for food. He had an omelet and hash browns (the most hash browns I have ever seen on a plate), and I had a chicken salad sandwich. Normally, when you order such a sandwich they don’t put any mayo on the bread because the chicken salad has it, but I am VERY distrustful so I always say absolutely no mayo on the bread. The waitress wrote it down. And it arrived and I could see the mayo oozing out of the bread and I almost threw up on the ground. I removed the top piece of bread and showed the waitress – she was amazed that the cook had not bothered to read her clearly worded NO MAYO ON THE BREAD. So, they made a new top piece and brought that. But I was so grossed out by that point I didn’t even really care for the sandwich. I should have gone with my original instinct of a patty melt. I’ve been craving one lately, too. Art’s has a decent one, but it’s twenty-two bucks there and that’s too many bucks for the likes of me.
After that, I stopped at the mail place and picked up nothing, then came home. I answered e-mails, found out we’d finally been approved for Film Hub, the CD Baby-like jernt that then offers Sami to every streaming service. Whether it’s right for any of them remains to be seen, but it would be nice to be picked up by a couple. Then I watched the movie, and the rest you know. Oh, I forgot to mention that I wrote more than half the commentary for the Kritzerland show, so that’s good. I don’t know about you, dear readers, but I wish life could have some outtakes, too, so that only the good bits got into the final cut of life. That was so profound I must eat a cracker.
Today, I’ll be up when I’m up, I’ll do whatever needs doing, I’ll do some Sami stuff and some book stuff – we’re almost ready to send everything in – I’ll eat, I’ll check with the mail place and see if anything is there, like a surprise check for one million dollars, and then at some point I’ll watch, listen, and relax.
Tomorrow is our second Kritzerland rehearsal, Friday is doing whatever needs doing, Saturday is our stumble-through, and Sunday is our sound check and show. Then the following week is all Sami all the time – counting down to our premiere.
Well, dear readers, I must take the day, I must do the things I do, I must, for example, be up when I’m up, do whatever needs doing, do Sami stuff and book stuff, eat, check with the mail place, and then watch, listen, and relax. Today’s topic of discussion: It’s Ask BK Day, the day in which you get to ask me or any dear reader any old question you like and we get to give any old answer we like. So, let’s have loads of lovely questions and loads of lovely answers and loads of lovely postings, shall we, whilst I hit the road to dreamland, where I shall dream of the outtakes of my life.