The case for Law School.

Spending a day on the NYU campus brought back plenty of memories of the good ‘ol days, when my NYU Card was the only currency I needed to worry about, I had a view of the World Trade Center from my twelth floor window on Washington Square Park, and making movies was a given, not a goal.    While NYU did their best to “simulate the studio experience” by having us pitch for a limited number of financial allotments with which to make our senior films, the warm womb of a private art school that calls it’s charges “auteurs” and nurtures the avant garde could never quite come close to replicating the real-life mindfuckery we’d be met with upon actually walking in to those first studio meetings.  (Or getting that first agent, or even getting that first assistant job…)

Certainly my Advanced Film professor would never have suggested that I make the lead character in my thesis film (a dark comedy set in the world of Home Shopping)  “likeable, relatable, groundable, and without seeming selfish through the second act, even though she’s doing something despicable, but keep sight of where the comedy comes from” (an exact list of demands I was fed on a recent conference call with a Studio Exec, who, if you’re reading this, is awesome, and I’m totally working on that.)   Pitching back in film school was met with constructive criticism and leading questions, while pitching in real life is often met with the distinct feeling that the folks on the other side of the table already know what answer they’re looking for, but you’ll only get the job if you can guess it verbatim.

So, as I strive to successfully switch gears between rewrite pitches, book adaptations, and original ideas, I’ll look back fondly on the days that I thought making movies was about ten friends in a room with a Arriflex camera and some black and white reversal film.  (Note to aspiring film makers:  It’s not.   At least not if you want to attempt to make a living at it.)

Here’s one for my homies who dreamt of the future with me back on 13th Street, and now are in the trenches next to me,  fighting the good fight.   A masterpiece from our “auteur” days.   Enjoy.