Saturday, December 13, 2003

1: Assistant director
This morning started off rather tame, and in fact on a sombre note. A good friend of mine who�s a talented prospective filmmaker, alas, an unlucky one, was relating yet another tale of disappointment. At times I feel a murderous rage against the so-called producers in mainstream cinema. They are spineless debauched pimps who are in the business only to seek the cheapest way to make money. They blind themselves to opportunity and surround themselves with flattering parasites and bad counsel. They make false promises, fool themselves and people around them, and more often than not, pay dearly later. At times I feel I have no business in aiming to feed these rascals by staying in this business. Most often I need these very rascals to produce movies for me. I just hope I�ll have the courage, the ability and the fortune to break out of this cycle of dependence: Soon!
But my friend did not seem half as angry I was. He�s seen too much to be really bothered by just another letdown. It was time to cool off, talk movies and watch movies. As he left on yet another appointment with yet another producer, he let me borrow from his rather large and exquisite DVD collection.

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