Other Recent Articles
French Film Cake Recipie
![alt="[bicycle-gourmet-cake]"](http://www.bicyclegourmet.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/11/bicycle-gourmet-cake.jpg "bicycle-gourmet-cake.jpg")
After a zillion years (actually, more like a zillion and a half) of cycling the French country backroads filming my modest contribution to cinematic history, I’ve come to realize that making a film is a lot like making a cake.
Both require certain ingredients in a correct proportion to give desireable results. However, while in both cases, one hopes to please the majority with your creation, the hoary breath of reality dictates that “desireable” experience will be totally subjective.
Another commonality between film and cake making, is that both involve a certain degree of inspiration. In the case of the cake, perhaps simply: “I feel inspired to bake a chocolate cake today.” For the film maker, inspiration, contrary to what you might imagine, is optional. For example, when I create a film celebrating bulldozers or surgical rubber gloves, there is no inspiration involved. Quality, absolutely. Creatively realized – bien sur. But it’s a job of work. Not a sacred calling.
On the other hand, because I was inspired to return to France after my first cycling visit –THIS SERIES– and a whole new life was the result.
Like cake creation, sometimes you find yourself in the cinematic kitchen with some great ingredients. Not enough to “bake up” something substantial; but, like Belgian chocolate leftovers, too good to throw away.
When I find myself in that situation, I fill a glass with something wonderful and red, and mix up a batter of those leftovers. Like I did here:
French Baby Fiesta
Having received an “ A “ for my ceramic alligator in High School art class(So good my Mother never believed I made it !) and able to change guitar strings unaided, it did occur to me that a film destined for a predominately English speaking market, should present a majority of English speakers. So, in a Provencal village, one sweltering July day, I posed the non-musical question : “Yo dude……..where be da English speakers?” About six houses away. According to the two exuberant pre-teen boys who answered the door I knocked on. Scrambling to their bikes, they led me to the house of Rene.
Solidly built. Early fifties. Expensive haircut. I hit him with my two best lines : “Bonjour” and, “Parlez vous Anglais?” Rene’s answer was affirmative. But with a strangley guarded tone. Unsure of his level of comprehension, I went slowly, trying not to sound like I was explaining television to a caveman. As Rene began to grok my cinematic mission, a soft smile lit his face. “You’ve come at exactly the right time” he replied, in perfect English.
Beckoning me to follow, We mounted a gently sloping hill, away from the village. Rene was born here. But, every Winter, He returns to his restaurant. In Miami Beach! So – no worries about his English ability. Approaching the crest of the hill – a rambling provencal mas(stone house, unique to provence) came into view. With an equally rambling yard, dotted with long rectangular tables. Gleaming with silver, and most importantly, stemware! Obviously a party waiting to happen!!
As We started down the driveway, a very relaxed cluster o’ folks ambled forward. With big smiles, and generous glasses of rose. I was half right. It was going to be a party! But not today. Tommorrow. And it was more than a party. It was a baptism celebration. Which would also go down tomorrow. Wisely, before the corks popped. Soooo.. after introductions, three more glasses of rose, lunch, and an invite to film their historic event, I toured the village to shoot what worked now, and scope things out for the big day.
It was warm, but not muggy that night. With glistening stars hovering at one hundred feet. The village was silent. Except for occasional faint conversations. Ebbing and flowing like programs colliding on short wave radio. And dogs. Exchanging the day’s news.
Filming the baptisim was definitely one of my top five “most challenging cinematic moments.” Ok – I am invited. But, this is, for them, a very solem and important occasion……..so I gots to be as invisible/quiet as possible. And somehow – still get the shots.
Chew on this : The small church is basically a dungeon. Small windows at the back, no light overhead, and a few altar candles. The faithful are assembled on wooden pews. In front of yer standard issue balding padre. He will be pontificating on a small stage in front, with tiny windows behind. Additional lights, which I don’t got anyway, would be a definite “faux pas.”
Soooo…as inobtrusively as it’s possible for someone six foot two, with a purple mohawk, in a sequined day-glow orange pantsuit slinking around with a tripod to be, I must find a way to shoot the audience from the Priest’s point of view, the Priest from the audience’s point of view, plus capturing the “baptees.” The two blissful free spirits, who have not yet been programmed to realize, dropping your bottle in church (even if it is plastic) is a big “no-no.”
I must now confess, dear reader, that it was luck, not skill, that must be credited for the last shot of the priest mock tossing one of the kids in the air. The only difficulty filming the fiesta that followed, was the constant admonition of my hosts to : “Put that camera down and enjoy yourself!” No worries. In a party that was to last thirteen plus hours, I did manage a few “non-camera moments.”
Here’s one : I’m submerged in a lawn chair by the pool. (Just like the Beverly Wilshire, but with no phones!) Rose in hand. Chatting up a very attractive Mlle. perched languorously a cote. Ok – I’m a little toasted. But, I can still speak in coherent sentences, without slurring words, drooling, or having eyes close without being asked. It is then, glazed by the warm Provencal sun, the “Eureka Moment” arrives. I am flirting with this girl – IN FRENCH – and She understands!! She understands. But She has an early train. Ah love!
Seventy litres of rose, who knows how much Champagne, two spit-roasted lambs, accordion music up the yin-yang, tons o’ talk, mirth, merriment, bonding, and thirteen hours later….the baptism bash be history. One that no doubt will be repeated in twenty-five or so years time, by the two guests of honor. Who have, somehow, managed to sleep through it all.
DSK – Strike Three?
(Authors Note : “Smileys” in this post were inserted mysteriously and automatically by WordPress. Please ignore them.)
Meet Mr. Speilberg
Imagine for a moment you’re a struggling screenwriter. Navigating the maze of illusions, heartbreak, and “have a nice day” smiles that is Hollywood. Waiting tables by day. Writing by night. Then, one day(and because this is a fantasy.. why not?) by dint of persistence, connections and/or religious affiliations you find yourself, clutching your masterpiece, sitting in the waiting room of…….wait for it……Steven Speilberg! Greatest of the greats! Multi-oscar winner ! Cinematic giant! Soon, you have five minutes, and five minutes only to convince the celebrated one that he should invest millions of dollars plus his time and resources to bring your scribbles to life on the big screen.
Nervous Is Too Mild An Adjective
You’ve reduced the 120 super tight double spaced pages of your masterpiece, to a super, super tight synopsis. Basically – points on a page. This is “the pitch.” One that has been repeated and exhaustively role played with friends and colleagues. Until it is the leanest, meanest, tightest, hard hitting, most complete synopsis known to man. (Or, at least to the Men around you.) Casually wiping the sweat from your brow(and isn’t that the best way?) you mentally replay your pitch for the ten thousandth time, when the receptionist shatters your reverie with: “Mr. Speilberg will see you now.”
In The Lion’s Liar
He’s smaller and greyer than you imagined. With a welcoming smile and relaxed manner. Like meeting your old college professor in the supermarket. After the usual pleasantries the friendly star maker breaks the ice with : “Well…..what have you got for me today?”
YOU : “Uh……well….Mr. Speilberg…sir…..”
SS : (with a soft smile) “Steven…”
YOU :(nodding, with a weak smile) “Steven……..sir…thank you……yes…….well my film….uh…that is…my screenplay – “Moral Errors” is a physcological thriller that centers around the head of an International Financial Regulatory Organization….This guy is all set to run for president……he hasn’t announced yet….but it’s common knowledge he will…….and, because he’s well known as a result of his current job……..he’s considered the only viable candidate to beat the incumbent president……”
SS : ( no reaction)
YOU : “….So….uh..the setup here…..is that this guy has a women problem……he can’t keep it in his pants…..and although he’s been close to going under several times……his wife’s money and connections have always saved his bacon……..”
SS : (nods, with no expression)
YOU : “..but now…..a new problem has surfaced…..that appears to be too big to be contained…..hookers..some alleged to be underage…..partying with influential businessmen/politicians at a luxury hotel…..chief of police detained…lawyer involved,.. former hotel employee in jail…….and most damaging of all……participants who place our guy directly and positively in the action…..”
SS 🙁 nods, …then) “I’m not saying you’re imitative…..but it does remind me a bit of Bill Goldman’s ‘Absolute Power.'”
YOU : (discreetly cowering) “Absolutely……yeah…I mean…..of course……it IS a little cliche…..hooker, businessmen, corruption in high places,etc……..but it does have an important twist…….”
SS : (smiles and unfolds his hands, as if to say…”well….let’s have it”)
YOU : (picking up the pace) “Ok…yeah….right….so…..up to this point we get the impression that everyone whose anyone was at this orgy…….and that there were pictures…..So….in the third act…we increase the suspense by revealing the web of connections and corruption……..”
SS : (matter of factly) “And the payoff?”
YOU: (enthusiastically)”A Smoking gun!” Pictures with our guy in them, female accusers old and new bring charges……it looks for all the World like our guy is finally going down……and then…..(more enthusiastically) then…….END OF PART ONE! A CLIFFHANGER!!! (expectant, relieved smile)
SS : (breaks into a broad smile. Rises from his desk, and offers his hand) “Thanks for stopping by.”
THE END (of our fantasy)
DISCLAIMER : I have never met, nor do I know anyone who has ever met Mr. Speilberg. It is my fervent hope(and that IS the best kind) that should he read this, he will be cool with being included here. And more to the point – not sue my scrawny white ass. But that if he does, he will at least make a short documentary of the proceedings.
As stated, the preceding is a fantasy. However what is being referred to here as “Le Affaire Carlton” (The hotel in which the alleged group “moral errors” were committed) is NOT a fantasy. Although it’s reported elements are identical to the preceding “Meet Mr. Speilberg.” And the name that’s most prominently mentioned in this affair is……(you’re ahead of me already, aren’t you?)…..yes…..an “encore”(or more accurately a “reprise”) for Dominique Strauss Kahn. Yes, friends and neighbours – “The Great Seducer” himself.
Just when I(and you too, probably) thought we’d finally put DSK to bed(metaphorically speaking, bien sur) he pops up again on the “moral error” radar.
Back In The Day
Before his “consensual” sex with an immigrant chamber maid in his $3000@night hotel suite(not charged because he was such a big important guy), and before his evasion of rape charges by Mlle. Tristane “I-waited-too-late-to-complain”Banon, when DSK truly was the only viable contender for the throne then, and now occupied by Nicholas Sarkozy, The great Seducer fielded reporter’s questions on what could possibly bring him down. “My Women. My Jewishness.” was DSK’s reply. So far, “Jewishness” hasn’t posed any problems. N’est ce pas?
But Wait – There’s More!
Without prompting He continued: “So I love Women. So What?” A question to which the World now knows the answer. Then, his hubris glowing brightly, DSK taunted the assembled scribblers with : “I hear rumors of a big orgy. Where are the pictures? Show them.” It is that question, dear reader, that I imagine is looping 24/7 through DSK’s brain. Indeed. Where are the pictures? No question that there are not pictures. Whenever Men are behaving badly there will be pictures. Thus, the essential questions now are: “Who’s in them? And doing what?”
Be Lucky
Of all the good advice my Father gave me when I left home – there was one “bon mot” that was initally confusing: “Be Lucky.” Up to that point I thought that luck was something that happened to you. A positive situation over which you had no control or influence. Later, I was to learn what you already know. (And doubtless knew before me!) Luck can be manufactured. All you need is money and connections. DSK has both. Will he be lucky a third time in the “moral error” sweepstakes? You know the answer dear reader. Do you not?
THROW ME A BONE HERE, PEOPLE!
What are ya thinkin’,
