I hate Halloween.
My kids disagree with me, of course. In fact, they'd like to be in charge of the holiday, telling me what to buy, what they should wear, how to decorate. All I'd have to do is write the checks.
But that's not gonna happen. Because I am in indeed a Halloween Scrooge.
Let me take you through what Halloween means around here.
It starts in late September/early October when the pumpkin patches start to go up around town. Now, this is L.A. So many of the pumpkin patches charge admission (some for charity, some just to make a buck). Some of them have bounce houses -- that you need to buy tickets for. Or petting zoos -- again, buy those tickets. The pumpkins themselves are priced by size and/or weight. A pumpkin the kids consider adequate can easily run $20 or more.
(This year, we were at Costco when I spotted decent-sized pumpkins at $4 each -- we grabbed one for each kid. Whew -- no trip to the pumpkin patch!)
Then we need to carve the pumpkins. But the kids don't want to do much of the carving, and they certainly don't want to spoon out the glop. So guess who gets to do the job she doesn't give a rip about? And, oh, Mom, make sure you save the pumpkin seeds to roast them!... Of course, no one ever eats them, they get moldy, we throw them out.
And the pumpkins get moldy too. All black and gooey on the front porch. But they don't go to waste. The ants love 'em.
Okay, next we have to decorate the house. Because of course, a couple of jack o'lanterns won't do it. Especially on our highly Jewish block, where few people decorate for Christmas (so they make up for it on Halloween).
So off we go to the Halloween store. And every year, I have to say, the Halloween store gets creepier and creepier. This year the highlights were a ghoul that crawled across your lawn and tore off its own head ($200 for that beauty), and a "demon rat" that's eating something undefinable with blood pouring out of its mouth.
Other than the ubiquitous witch-crashing-into-a-tree, there's really nothing at the Halloween store that I would be willing to put in front of my house. Nothing. Even my kids, this year, asked to leave the store because it was "spooking them out."
Our solution? We go to the 99 Cent Store, I give them a few bucks each, and they buy cheap little things like rubber mice and glow-in-the-dark spiders to sprinkle around the front door. They're sorely disappointed. Well, you know, my wallet would be sorely disappointed if we did anything further. Not to mention my sense of propriety -- Funny, but I've never felt the need for a full graveyard with all sorts of demonic apparitions in my front yard, even if some of my neighbors do.
Okay, on to costumes. Every year, it's a fight. Cory wants to be something gory, bloody, gross. Nothing evil, I proclaim. So we go on to the arguments: Zombies aren't really evil, he insists, because they couldn't help becoming zombies. Same with vampires. No, I respond. We go to the costume store. He looks longingly at everything with blood pouring over it. I say no. He begs. We stand and stare at costumes for hours. He hones his negotiating skills by trying to bargain.
Eventually we reach a compromise. This year, he's a mummy -- we're tearing up a bedsheet for the occasion. Last year he was willing to be Frodo, because the LOTR movies made him cool -- though he would rather have been a Ringwraith. The year before we settled on a ninja. The year before I made him be SpongeBob -- and he sobbed for an hour before going to school, afraid everyone would laugh at him. (Instead, they all laughed at the kid who came as a remote control -- and who also cried for an hour before going to school, his mom told me.)
Sabrina's not so difficult. A princess one year. A mermaid another year. Queen Amidala. This year she's a baton twirler (she took a class in kindergarten and has been practicing). Whew.
We also get to do a second costume for Cory's Wednesday night program at church. This one has to be a Biblical character. And the kids have to memorize a verse about their character and make a little presentation -- draw a picture, sing a song, etc. Hey folks, ever realize these kids have homework? And that their parents are already putting together one set of costumes?... This year, we managed to back Cory away from wanting to be the angel guarding the Garden of Eden (boy, was that a violent costume he had planned!). Instead he took a stuffed lion and a generic robe and went as Daniel. (I have to admire the chutzpah of his best friend, who wore his little sister's bride costume and went as the Church.)
Let's not even go into the cost of all these costumes. Badly made (usually) outfits that don't look that great, cost a fortune (I could easily spend upwards of $100 per kid if I chose), and will never be worn again. Okay, we have used Frodo's sword again -- but those hairy hobbit feet are just sitting in the closet, lonely.
Off we go to the Halloween Carnival at school. Parents spend hours setting up booths so kids can win tiny plastic spiders, temporary tattoos of evil design, or CANDY! The kids don't set up the booths, under the thought that it would take away from their learning time -- but who's going to learn a thing when in costume and all sugared-up?!
But I really look forward to 6th grade -- the year of the Haunted House. Of course, the 6th Graders can't spare the time from learning to do the work -- so the parents spend (I hear) two weeks getting it ready. All so the little kids can have nightmares.
And then we head off to friends' Halloween parties -- which involve more haunted houses. And peeled grapes and soggy spaghetti don't cut it any more. These are like taking a trip into the pit of hell itself. Lovely. More nightmares.
Finally we get to Halloween night itself. Fortunately, we are in a nice neighborhood, so we don't have to fear pranks. Unfortunately, we are on the only level, safe street in the whole neighborhood, so everyone comes to our block to trick-or-treat. Last year I bought 14 industrial-sized bags of candy. And I ran out.
Why, I ask myself, am I spending up to $100 on candy for people I don't know? Well, because I have to. I feel like I'm being held hostage.
So out we go, trick-or-treating away. With our special candy-buckets that we had to buy, of course. And home we come, lugging pounds (I weighed it the other year -- something like 8 pounds each) of candy. And what will happen to all that candy? Why, my kids will eat it, of course! High fructose corn syrup, tooth-rotting sugar, refusal to eat anything healthy because we're all stoked up on candy -- Ah, the joys of Halloween!
We have, the last few years, instituted the "Halloween toy store." The day after Halloween, we allow the kids to "buy" toys with their candy. That way, they save only the candy they really, really want (a couple dozen pieces, usually), and we can take the rest and dump it or give it away. (Or let it hang around so I end up eating it -- look, another reason to hate Halloween!)
Problem with this is, it costs a lot to set up the Halloween toy store. I have to go out, find the toys (harder and harder, the older they get). Spend the money to buy toys to redeem candy I didn't want in the first place.
By the time it's all over, I could easily spend $300 on Halloween -- and that's without throwing a party or doing any major decorating! And why? For a holiday that celebrates one of two things: (a) Open depictions of degenerate evil or (b) Candy.
When I was a kid, you made your costumes out of your mom's old clothes (I still have a great college-vintage can-can girl costume made out of, basically, my mom's old underwear). You stuck a pumpkin on your front porch -- maybe (It was enough to just turn the porch light on). And you took a paper bag and walked down your block and got enough candy to maybe last to the end of the week (and that was with your mom and dad parceling it out). There were no scary decorations. No one went out of their way to celebrate or even depict evil. It all took half an hour, and it was over.
I realize other people disagree with me about Halloween -- including other Christians. For a possibly more balanced view, I refer you to John Fischer's lovely website, and specifically to his article about Christians and Halloween.
But as for me, I can't wait till it's over.
Thursday, October 28, 2004
Wednesday, October 27, 2004
SIX MORE DAYS
I am frankly sick with this entire election. I can't wait for it to be over. And regardless of the results, it's hard to believe how anyone could be happy given the divisiveness, lies and ugliness that have pervaded the entire process. (And I'm in California, the most populous state in the nation whose votes, we are assured, don't really count this election. I can't even imagine how hideous things have gotten out in the "battleground" states!)
I got particularly peeved when I received earlier today, several e-mails telling me how to vote on everything from the presidential race to our local city and county measures. Every single one of these e-mails purported to be the one-and-only "Christian" way to vote.
That's why I want to share with you a breath of fresh air I received today in the mail -- an essay by Richard Foster ("Celebration of Discipline") printed in the newsletter published by Renovare.
I hope it helps you breathe just a tad easier through all the on-air muck, too. And then I swear -- no more politics. I promise.
Last January I promised that since the United States is in an election year I would this fall address the theme "The Kingdoms of This World in Light of the Kingdom of God." I committed myself back then, in part, so I wouldn't back down once the political rhetoric had risen to fever pitch (which it has) and I had become so totally disillusioned by it all (which I have) that I would be tempted to throw up my hands (which I want to do) and proceed on to some less polarizing topic. But, having committed myself to the topic of our civic responsibility, I will do my best to say something that I trust will be helpful.
At the outset I had better make a disclaimer: If you are wanting to come away from this essay knowing who to vote for in this presidential election, you will most certainly go away disappointed. I would not tell you that, even if I had great clarity on the subject (which I do not) since it would remove from you the responsibility of free moral agency, which each one of us is called upon to exercise before God. I do, however, have some theological convictions that surround civic responsibility, and those I am more than happy to share with you -- I'll limit myself to four. And perhaps, just perhaps, these four convictions will give you some guidelines for working on election matters in your own region and context.
1. I must give my first and ultimate allegiance to the Kingdom of God and of his Christ.
No human being, no nation/state, no political party, no religious demonation or institution can have that allegiance; only the one true God. Always and at all times we seek first the kingdom of God and the righteousness that is inherent in that kingdom life (Matt. 6:33).
In 1659, Edward Burrough, a British Christion leader, wrote, "We are not for names nor men, nor titles or gobvernment, nor are we for this party or against the other... but we are for justice and mercy and truth and peace and true freedom, that these may be exalted in our nation, and that goodness, righteousness, meekness, temperance, peace and unity with God, and with one another, that these things may abound."
2. I must always distinguish between authentic patriotism and nationalism.
Authentic patriotism concerns itself with love of country and pride in its highest ideals. Further, it insists on a clear-eyed understanding of the failings of a country and a call to make them right. Nationalism, on the other hand, is a blind loyalty of country and a refusal to consider any shortcomings or weaknesses in that country. With nationalism, "my country" must always be on the side of truth and light; "your country" is always on the other side.
The God-given task of the state is to provide for justice, stability and peace for all people alike (Rom. 13:1-7). When it does this, we commend it; when it fails to do this, we critique it and prophetically witness against it. This is authentic patriotism and a true virtue.
3. I must give witness "for life" as consistently and as unambiguously as possible.
This witness needs to weave its way throughout all human experience, from the womb to the tomb. This means seeking ways to protect the unborn. This means standing against all forms of prejudice which would dehumanize people precious to God. This means working to eliminate poverty and other dehumanizing social conditions. This means witnessing for peace and reconciliation everywhere possible and laboring hard for genuine alternatives to war. This means seeking out creative alternatives to capital punishment. This means rejecting euthanasia and instead working for a more compassionate end of life environment.
In seeking a deeply consistent "for life" witness, our major political parties have not served us well. The Republican party has tended to be a bit better in the arena of personal ethics; the Democratic party has tended to be a bit better in the arena of social eithics. But neither party gives us a witness that is directed consistently toward life, and they both seem trapped by positions and constituencies that render them unable to provide any creative leadership in these matters.
4. I must give special consideration and protection to the weakest, most vulnerable members of society.
I mention this because the Bible does... viforously, and in doing so, it is expressing a deep reality about the heart of God. God really does care for the marginalized, and so should we. Have you ever noticed the innumerable times Scripture singles out for special care the widow, the orphan, the alien, the stranger, the soujourner, the child, the poor? The Biblical concern for the powerless and defenseless is consistent and vigorous. This is why James could lay it down as a mark of pure an undefiled religion that we would "care for orphans and widows in their distress" (Jas. 1:27). The late Cardinal Joseph Bernardin once said, "Our moral, political, and economic responsibilities do not stop at the moment of birth. Those who defend the right to life of the weakest among us must be equally visible in support of the quality of life of the powerless among us: the old and the young, the hungry and the homeless, the undocumented immigrant and the unemployed worker."
How all this is done is a real Gordian knot. Some groups emphasize individual initiative and local community engagement. Others stress the role of government and social institutions. Still others want laws enacted that will ensure that we become a more compassionate society. I must admit that I tend to think that if our hearts were right towrad the poor and marginalized, any one of these approaches would yield the desired end. But then, that only explains why I am not a politician!
May God be with you as you seek to sort through these matters and make your way to the polls this November 2.
I got particularly peeved when I received earlier today, several e-mails telling me how to vote on everything from the presidential race to our local city and county measures. Every single one of these e-mails purported to be the one-and-only "Christian" way to vote.
That's why I want to share with you a breath of fresh air I received today in the mail -- an essay by Richard Foster ("Celebration of Discipline") printed in the newsletter published by Renovare.
I hope it helps you breathe just a tad easier through all the on-air muck, too. And then I swear -- no more politics. I promise.
Last January I promised that since the United States is in an election year I would this fall address the theme "The Kingdoms of This World in Light of the Kingdom of God." I committed myself back then, in part, so I wouldn't back down once the political rhetoric had risen to fever pitch (which it has) and I had become so totally disillusioned by it all (which I have) that I would be tempted to throw up my hands (which I want to do) and proceed on to some less polarizing topic. But, having committed myself to the topic of our civic responsibility, I will do my best to say something that I trust will be helpful.
At the outset I had better make a disclaimer: If you are wanting to come away from this essay knowing who to vote for in this presidential election, you will most certainly go away disappointed. I would not tell you that, even if I had great clarity on the subject (which I do not) since it would remove from you the responsibility of free moral agency, which each one of us is called upon to exercise before God. I do, however, have some theological convictions that surround civic responsibility, and those I am more than happy to share with you -- I'll limit myself to four. And perhaps, just perhaps, these four convictions will give you some guidelines for working on election matters in your own region and context.
1. I must give my first and ultimate allegiance to the Kingdom of God and of his Christ.
No human being, no nation/state, no political party, no religious demonation or institution can have that allegiance; only the one true God. Always and at all times we seek first the kingdom of God and the righteousness that is inherent in that kingdom life (Matt. 6:33).
In 1659, Edward Burrough, a British Christion leader, wrote, "We are not for names nor men, nor titles or gobvernment, nor are we for this party or against the other... but we are for justice and mercy and truth and peace and true freedom, that these may be exalted in our nation, and that goodness, righteousness, meekness, temperance, peace and unity with God, and with one another, that these things may abound."
2. I must always distinguish between authentic patriotism and nationalism.
Authentic patriotism concerns itself with love of country and pride in its highest ideals. Further, it insists on a clear-eyed understanding of the failings of a country and a call to make them right. Nationalism, on the other hand, is a blind loyalty of country and a refusal to consider any shortcomings or weaknesses in that country. With nationalism, "my country" must always be on the side of truth and light; "your country" is always on the other side.
The God-given task of the state is to provide for justice, stability and peace for all people alike (Rom. 13:1-7). When it does this, we commend it; when it fails to do this, we critique it and prophetically witness against it. This is authentic patriotism and a true virtue.
3. I must give witness "for life" as consistently and as unambiguously as possible.
This witness needs to weave its way throughout all human experience, from the womb to the tomb. This means seeking ways to protect the unborn. This means standing against all forms of prejudice which would dehumanize people precious to God. This means working to eliminate poverty and other dehumanizing social conditions. This means witnessing for peace and reconciliation everywhere possible and laboring hard for genuine alternatives to war. This means seeking out creative alternatives to capital punishment. This means rejecting euthanasia and instead working for a more compassionate end of life environment.
In seeking a deeply consistent "for life" witness, our major political parties have not served us well. The Republican party has tended to be a bit better in the arena of personal ethics; the Democratic party has tended to be a bit better in the arena of social eithics. But neither party gives us a witness that is directed consistently toward life, and they both seem trapped by positions and constituencies that render them unable to provide any creative leadership in these matters.
4. I must give special consideration and protection to the weakest, most vulnerable members of society.
I mention this because the Bible does... viforously, and in doing so, it is expressing a deep reality about the heart of God. God really does care for the marginalized, and so should we. Have you ever noticed the innumerable times Scripture singles out for special care the widow, the orphan, the alien, the stranger, the soujourner, the child, the poor? The Biblical concern for the powerless and defenseless is consistent and vigorous. This is why James could lay it down as a mark of pure an undefiled religion that we would "care for orphans and widows in their distress" (Jas. 1:27). The late Cardinal Joseph Bernardin once said, "Our moral, political, and economic responsibilities do not stop at the moment of birth. Those who defend the right to life of the weakest among us must be equally visible in support of the quality of life of the powerless among us: the old and the young, the hungry and the homeless, the undocumented immigrant and the unemployed worker."
How all this is done is a real Gordian knot. Some groups emphasize individual initiative and local community engagement. Others stress the role of government and social institutions. Still others want laws enacted that will ensure that we become a more compassionate society. I must admit that I tend to think that if our hearts were right towrad the poor and marginalized, any one of these approaches would yield the desired end. But then, that only explains why I am not a politician!
May God be with you as you seek to sort through these matters and make your way to the polls this November 2.
Wednesday, October 20, 2004
SO YOU WANNA COME TO HOLLYWOOD.... Part Three and Last
Here comes the last part of my essay for the upcoming Act One book: Greetings from the Church in Hollywood. I've already talked about the wrong reasons and some possible right motivations for coming to Hollywood. Now I want to talk about what you should bring when you come.
Again, any and all comments are welcome -- Help out Spencer our editor!
--------------
So now you've throught and prayed deeply over your motivations for coming to Hollywood. You've tested your desires. And you think you're ready to make the move, take the leap.
But what should you pack for the journey?
I'm not talking about sunscreen here -- though you certainly will need some. I'm talking about attitudes and attributes that will make it possible for you to survive in Hollywood without crashing and burning. Take a look over the following list and see how many you can check off. If the answer is, "Not that many," please think twice: Maybe you should save yourself a lot of grief and pain (I mean that quite seriously) and bloom where you're already planted.
Talent. So you make videos for your church. You sang in the talent show in high school. You write a Christmas newsletter that's the envy of your whole list. And everyone always says how talented you are.
But Hollywood is the big leagues. Lots of people are fine baseball players in Little League. Quite a few play with distinction in high school. Some keep playing in college. A few even make it to the minors. But only a very very VERY few get into the major leagues.
We all love to deceive ourselves. We think we're way more talented than we are. Or, sadly, we think we're far less talented than we are. Or we think that because we're Christians and God is on our side, talent doesn't matter.
Talent does matter. A lot. That's why it's at the head of the list. Are you talented enough at what you do for Hollywood? You may not really find out till you get here. But you will have to have a realistic assessment of your talents at every step of the way.
Someone once asked Steve Martin for his advice on how to make it in show biz, looking for the secret, the hidden password. Mr. Martin's answer? "Be so good they can't ignore you."
A desire to serve other people. Unless you're well-born into the business, you will have to pay your dues. And they may take a lot longer to pay than you expect. Are you ready for eight years of working at a job you don't love? Ten years? It could take that long to get your break.
Are you willing to work in a subordinate position? To be an assistant? A gopher? To work hard, earn little, and let someone else get the glory?
We knew someone who, right out of film school, got a job in the mailroom at a major agency. Now, a mailroom job is pure hell. Cruel treatment, no pay, horrible hours, brainless work, constant blame. But at the end of it, if you survive, you know all about the business, you have comrades who will do anything for you, and you have begun a network of connections that will serve you well the rest of your career. No wonder mailroom jobs are hard to get.
So this guy we knew got one of these prized, horrid jobs. And after a couple of months -- He quit. He was too good, too smart, too talented, he explained to us, to pick up other people's dry cleaning.
You know what? It wasn't that he was too good. It was that he was too proud. And his career (not surprisingly, with that attitude) went absolutely nowhere.
We, as Christians, know that we are always servants. So we should have the best attitudes around. Sure, it's a challenge. But if anyone can meet that challenge, it should be us. Shouldn't it?
Faith. Do you know what you believe? Do you know why you believe it?
You'd better, because your faith will be tested in Hollywood in every way possible -- from the temptation to just sort of not mention that you're a Christian, to outright attacks and mockery of what you believe.
People will ask you to compromise. People will lie to you. People will insult your God. Is your faith strong enough for you to handle these situations?
You will also go through times when it seems as if God has abandoned you. It's so easy to believe that God loves you when you have a steady paycheck, a pretty home, people who love and support you all around. But take those away -- and see if your faith stands strong. Will your faith stretch to meet these situations?
Fortitude. It will take you years to break in, and more years to reach the level of career you're now dreaming of. If you ever reach it, that is.
Can you persevere for all those years? Do you have the patience to wait?
And do you have the courage to face up to all the disappointments? All the rejections? The sheer bravery to get back up after being slapped to the ground again and again, and to say, "Okay, I'll try again. Better this time."
A good learning curve. To quote Peter Guber, "This is a business with no rules -- but you break them at your peril." No matter where you're coming from, you'll have a whole new set of rules to learn.
Sure, you'll make mistakes. And you'll get second chances. But you better not keep making the same mistakes. If you can't learn from your mistakes -- and learn quickly! -- you won't survive.
Love for people in the biz. Especially if you grew up on a warm, sheltering Christian environment, you will probably meet people in Hollywood unlike those you are used to.
Can you get along with people who feng shui their offices, seek advice from psychics, and take the astrology column seriously? How about with militant gays who think you're the enemy? Or people who lead a life of sexual recklessness and substance abuse? Or people who've never set foot in a Wal-Mart and think nothing of spending $800 on a pair of shoes (and look down on anyone who doesn't spend that kind of money)?
If people don't like you, you won't work. If you send out a vibe that says you don't like them,well, chances are they won't like you.
Of course, loving these people is way better than merely liking them. And as Christians, we should have a head start on that. Shouldn't we?
Wisdom. So many Christians come to Hollywood with "kick me" on their backs. They're well-meaning, sweet, kind... and flat out naive. [Add appropriate quote from Proverbs.]
When God offered Solomon anything he wanted, Solomon had his chance to be rich and famous. But he chose wisdom instead. We need to make the same choice if we're to survive.
You need God's wisdom to understand the various agendas at work around you. To understand who's your friend, who's your ally, who's your enemy. To know what projects to pursue. What projects to quit. "You got to know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em..."
Seek wisdom if you want to come to Hollywood.
A hunger to improve. So many Christians come to town with a good level of talent -- and never get any better. Don't let that be you.
You must be willing -- hungry! -- to get better. You will never fully master your craft. You may have to learn radically new technology, jumping from linear editing to non-linear, from film to video, from digital video to high definition. The better you get at your craft, the more you'll discover how much there still is to learn and master. Which is great, because it means you'll never get bored!
Hollywood is not a place for the lazy.
Hope.
Life in Hollywood is a life of disappointment. There are hundreds of qualified people out after every job. I can't imagine anything more discouraging than showing up at an audition, and looking aorund to see 50 other people who look like you, sound like you, are dressed better than you, and probably went to school with the casting director.
Can you walk into that situation and hang on to your hope? Can you take the inevitable rejections and simply say, "Okay. Move on" without feeling personally devastated? (Okay, I admit, it takes some practice. But you'll have plenty of chances.)
"Our hope is built on nothing less / Than Jesus' blood and righteousness..." Most of the folks in Hollywood build their hope on far less than that!
Energy.
It takes a lot of work to break in to the industry. It takes a single-minded focus. That's one of the reasons younger people have an easier time: They've got the energy, they've got the lack of commitments elsewhere that allow them to commit fully to the task ahead of them.
"Make the most of every opportunity," Paul tells us, "because the days are evil." The days are evil if only because they keep on passing, and suddenly you wake up and realize you've been here 12 years and you're no further along than when you started. Make the most of your energy while you have it.
Your job may also be physically demanding in ways you don't expect. Many directors start strenuous workout schedules as part of their prep before a movie starts, because they know how physically tough it's going to be. Women directors warn each other, "Wear comfortable shoes," because they know the day will come when they'll be so tired they can't put one foot in front of the other. Billy Crystal once said in an interview that he was skipping hosting the Oscars that particular year because he needs five months to get physically and mentally in shape -- for one night's work!
Commitment to a church. There are lots of great churches in Los Angeles. And there are lots of great reasons to skip church -- the beach, the mountains, brunch, the Sunday paper, sleeping in, work...
But if you don't make a commitment to a particular body of believers, then honor that commitment at every opportunity, your faith will falter. Guaranteed.
And we're talking a real commitment here. Not church-hopping from one place to another, even if you aren't happy with the selection of members of the opposite sex at your given church. Make a commitment. Join a church. Get plugged in to the Christian community in Hollywood. And show up.
A way to earn money. L.A. is not the cheapest place in America to live. (Though it's not the most expensive, either. People from back East often marvel at how cheap our heating bills are, for instance!)
Can you make enough money to pay rent? For how long? Do you have a "day job"? Skills that you can use to get one?
Lots of people come out with enough money saved up to last, say, six months, assuming they'll get their big break, get cast on a sitcom, sell a script by then. But it's simply not going to happen. You can't count on money coming in for a script you haven't sold (or finished!), or from a job you've interviewed for but haven't been hired for. And yet Christians do this all the time, assuming that they're really showing profound faith.
Assume you'll have to pay your way for six years instead of six months. Get the skills you need.
Joy in living in Los Angeles. I love L.A. (Me and Randy Newman.) Granted, it took a while. And it may take you a while. But if you never learn to like living in a place so spread out that people speak of their commutes in terms of minutes instead of miles... well, why would you spend your life being homesick?
I have an old college friend from England who likes to say, "L.A. is a great place to live, but I wouldn't want to visit there." And I think he's right. It's a tough place to get used to for many, but one day you find yourself defending it, and you realize, "I wouldn't want to live anywhere else."
I can hear you thinking now: "But I'm a writer. A writer can write from anywhere! I don't have to live in L.A.!" Um, sorry, but yes, you do. Our agent likes to say, "You can have a screenwriting career outside of L.A., but you can't start a screenwriting career outside of L.A." You're going to have to make the move. And hopefully you'll love it.
A life outside the industry. Your life must be more than your career. Sure, you need technical knowledge of your craft and a working understanding of how the biz works. But you need so much more!
You need balance. You need church, friends, exercise, relaxation, inspirational input. You need a life! Make sure you keep what you've got, and don't let it be sucked up by the all-demanding industry.
....Hollywood, says iconoclast Hunter S. Thompson, "is a cruel and shallow money trench, a long plastic hallway where thieves and pimps run free, and good men die like dogs. There is also a negative side."
Have I scared you off yet? If I have, maybe I've done you the greatest favor of your life. But if you've read this far, if you've weighed your motives and found them healthy, if you're talented, if you're ambitious, if you're dedicated and persevering, if you're wise, if you want to learn and grow and contribute and serve...
Then -- please -- come to Hollywood. And welcome!
Again, any and all comments are welcome -- Help out Spencer our editor!
--------------
So now you've throught and prayed deeply over your motivations for coming to Hollywood. You've tested your desires. And you think you're ready to make the move, take the leap.
But what should you pack for the journey?
I'm not talking about sunscreen here -- though you certainly will need some. I'm talking about attitudes and attributes that will make it possible for you to survive in Hollywood without crashing and burning. Take a look over the following list and see how many you can check off. If the answer is, "Not that many," please think twice: Maybe you should save yourself a lot of grief and pain (I mean that quite seriously) and bloom where you're already planted.
Talent. So you make videos for your church. You sang in the talent show in high school. You write a Christmas newsletter that's the envy of your whole list. And everyone always says how talented you are.
But Hollywood is the big leagues. Lots of people are fine baseball players in Little League. Quite a few play with distinction in high school. Some keep playing in college. A few even make it to the minors. But only a very very VERY few get into the major leagues.
We all love to deceive ourselves. We think we're way more talented than we are. Or, sadly, we think we're far less talented than we are. Or we think that because we're Christians and God is on our side, talent doesn't matter.
Talent does matter. A lot. That's why it's at the head of the list. Are you talented enough at what you do for Hollywood? You may not really find out till you get here. But you will have to have a realistic assessment of your talents at every step of the way.
Someone once asked Steve Martin for his advice on how to make it in show biz, looking for the secret, the hidden password. Mr. Martin's answer? "Be so good they can't ignore you."
A desire to serve other people. Unless you're well-born into the business, you will have to pay your dues. And they may take a lot longer to pay than you expect. Are you ready for eight years of working at a job you don't love? Ten years? It could take that long to get your break.
Are you willing to work in a subordinate position? To be an assistant? A gopher? To work hard, earn little, and let someone else get the glory?
We knew someone who, right out of film school, got a job in the mailroom at a major agency. Now, a mailroom job is pure hell. Cruel treatment, no pay, horrible hours, brainless work, constant blame. But at the end of it, if you survive, you know all about the business, you have comrades who will do anything for you, and you have begun a network of connections that will serve you well the rest of your career. No wonder mailroom jobs are hard to get.
So this guy we knew got one of these prized, horrid jobs. And after a couple of months -- He quit. He was too good, too smart, too talented, he explained to us, to pick up other people's dry cleaning.
You know what? It wasn't that he was too good. It was that he was too proud. And his career (not surprisingly, with that attitude) went absolutely nowhere.
We, as Christians, know that we are always servants. So we should have the best attitudes around. Sure, it's a challenge. But if anyone can meet that challenge, it should be us. Shouldn't it?
Faith. Do you know what you believe? Do you know why you believe it?
You'd better, because your faith will be tested in Hollywood in every way possible -- from the temptation to just sort of not mention that you're a Christian, to outright attacks and mockery of what you believe.
People will ask you to compromise. People will lie to you. People will insult your God. Is your faith strong enough for you to handle these situations?
You will also go through times when it seems as if God has abandoned you. It's so easy to believe that God loves you when you have a steady paycheck, a pretty home, people who love and support you all around. But take those away -- and see if your faith stands strong. Will your faith stretch to meet these situations?
Fortitude. It will take you years to break in, and more years to reach the level of career you're now dreaming of. If you ever reach it, that is.
Can you persevere for all those years? Do you have the patience to wait?
And do you have the courage to face up to all the disappointments? All the rejections? The sheer bravery to get back up after being slapped to the ground again and again, and to say, "Okay, I'll try again. Better this time."
A good learning curve. To quote Peter Guber, "This is a business with no rules -- but you break them at your peril." No matter where you're coming from, you'll have a whole new set of rules to learn.
Sure, you'll make mistakes. And you'll get second chances. But you better not keep making the same mistakes. If you can't learn from your mistakes -- and learn quickly! -- you won't survive.
Love for people in the biz. Especially if you grew up on a warm, sheltering Christian environment, you will probably meet people in Hollywood unlike those you are used to.
Can you get along with people who feng shui their offices, seek advice from psychics, and take the astrology column seriously? How about with militant gays who think you're the enemy? Or people who lead a life of sexual recklessness and substance abuse? Or people who've never set foot in a Wal-Mart and think nothing of spending $800 on a pair of shoes (and look down on anyone who doesn't spend that kind of money)?
If people don't like you, you won't work. If you send out a vibe that says you don't like them,well, chances are they won't like you.
Of course, loving these people is way better than merely liking them. And as Christians, we should have a head start on that. Shouldn't we?
Wisdom. So many Christians come to Hollywood with "kick me" on their backs. They're well-meaning, sweet, kind... and flat out naive. [Add appropriate quote from Proverbs.]
When God offered Solomon anything he wanted, Solomon had his chance to be rich and famous. But he chose wisdom instead. We need to make the same choice if we're to survive.
You need God's wisdom to understand the various agendas at work around you. To understand who's your friend, who's your ally, who's your enemy. To know what projects to pursue. What projects to quit. "You got to know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em..."
Seek wisdom if you want to come to Hollywood.
A hunger to improve. So many Christians come to town with a good level of talent -- and never get any better. Don't let that be you.
You must be willing -- hungry! -- to get better. You will never fully master your craft. You may have to learn radically new technology, jumping from linear editing to non-linear, from film to video, from digital video to high definition. The better you get at your craft, the more you'll discover how much there still is to learn and master. Which is great, because it means you'll never get bored!
Hollywood is not a place for the lazy.
Hope.
Life in Hollywood is a life of disappointment. There are hundreds of qualified people out after every job. I can't imagine anything more discouraging than showing up at an audition, and looking aorund to see 50 other people who look like you, sound like you, are dressed better than you, and probably went to school with the casting director.
Can you walk into that situation and hang on to your hope? Can you take the inevitable rejections and simply say, "Okay. Move on" without feeling personally devastated? (Okay, I admit, it takes some practice. But you'll have plenty of chances.)
"Our hope is built on nothing less / Than Jesus' blood and righteousness..." Most of the folks in Hollywood build their hope on far less than that!
Energy.
It takes a lot of work to break in to the industry. It takes a single-minded focus. That's one of the reasons younger people have an easier time: They've got the energy, they've got the lack of commitments elsewhere that allow them to commit fully to the task ahead of them.
"Make the most of every opportunity," Paul tells us, "because the days are evil." The days are evil if only because they keep on passing, and suddenly you wake up and realize you've been here 12 years and you're no further along than when you started. Make the most of your energy while you have it.
Your job may also be physically demanding in ways you don't expect. Many directors start strenuous workout schedules as part of their prep before a movie starts, because they know how physically tough it's going to be. Women directors warn each other, "Wear comfortable shoes," because they know the day will come when they'll be so tired they can't put one foot in front of the other. Billy Crystal once said in an interview that he was skipping hosting the Oscars that particular year because he needs five months to get physically and mentally in shape -- for one night's work!
Commitment to a church. There are lots of great churches in Los Angeles. And there are lots of great reasons to skip church -- the beach, the mountains, brunch, the Sunday paper, sleeping in, work...
But if you don't make a commitment to a particular body of believers, then honor that commitment at every opportunity, your faith will falter. Guaranteed.
And we're talking a real commitment here. Not church-hopping from one place to another, even if you aren't happy with the selection of members of the opposite sex at your given church. Make a commitment. Join a church. Get plugged in to the Christian community in Hollywood. And show up.
A way to earn money. L.A. is not the cheapest place in America to live. (Though it's not the most expensive, either. People from back East often marvel at how cheap our heating bills are, for instance!)
Can you make enough money to pay rent? For how long? Do you have a "day job"? Skills that you can use to get one?
Lots of people come out with enough money saved up to last, say, six months, assuming they'll get their big break, get cast on a sitcom, sell a script by then. But it's simply not going to happen. You can't count on money coming in for a script you haven't sold (or finished!), or from a job you've interviewed for but haven't been hired for. And yet Christians do this all the time, assuming that they're really showing profound faith.
Assume you'll have to pay your way for six years instead of six months. Get the skills you need.
Joy in living in Los Angeles. I love L.A. (Me and Randy Newman.) Granted, it took a while. And it may take you a while. But if you never learn to like living in a place so spread out that people speak of their commutes in terms of minutes instead of miles... well, why would you spend your life being homesick?
I have an old college friend from England who likes to say, "L.A. is a great place to live, but I wouldn't want to visit there." And I think he's right. It's a tough place to get used to for many, but one day you find yourself defending it, and you realize, "I wouldn't want to live anywhere else."
I can hear you thinking now: "But I'm a writer. A writer can write from anywhere! I don't have to live in L.A.!" Um, sorry, but yes, you do. Our agent likes to say, "You can have a screenwriting career outside of L.A., but you can't start a screenwriting career outside of L.A." You're going to have to make the move. And hopefully you'll love it.
A life outside the industry. Your life must be more than your career. Sure, you need technical knowledge of your craft and a working understanding of how the biz works. But you need so much more!
You need balance. You need church, friends, exercise, relaxation, inspirational input. You need a life! Make sure you keep what you've got, and don't let it be sucked up by the all-demanding industry.
....Hollywood, says iconoclast Hunter S. Thompson, "is a cruel and shallow money trench, a long plastic hallway where thieves and pimps run free, and good men die like dogs. There is also a negative side."
Have I scared you off yet? If I have, maybe I've done you the greatest favor of your life. But if you've read this far, if you've weighed your motives and found them healthy, if you're talented, if you're ambitious, if you're dedicated and persevering, if you're wise, if you want to learn and grow and contribute and serve...
Then -- please -- come to Hollywood. And welcome!
Tuesday, October 19, 2004
SO YOU WANNA COME TO HOLLYWOOD.... Part Two
Following up on my previous blog, here I continue the diatribe on good and not-so-good reasons to pick up and move to Hollywood.... Again, this is for the upcoming Act One book: Greetings from the Church in Hollywood. As I mentioned before, I will probably actually start the article with *this* section on the *good* reasons to come to Hollywood, rather than the screed I posted yesterday.
Again, please please -- any and all comments!
==============
Do consider coming to Hollywood if that's who God made you to be.
In the musical A Chorus Line, Cassie sings, "God, I'm a dancer. A dancer dances."
If God truly put you on this earth to dance, it would be a sin if you didn't do it. A dancer dances. An actor acts. A writer writes. A designer designs.
For some of us, Hollywood is simply where we belong. Our talents, our desires, everything about us screams that this is home.
What that often means, of course, is that where you came from doesn't feel like "home." You don't fit in. People there don't understand what makes you tick, what you think important. You long for kindred spirits, for a place to belong.
Now, the irony here is that coming to Hollywood will not answer that feeling of wanting to belong. You'll come face to face with more rejection than you ever thought existed in the world -- guaranteed. But somehow, if you're meant to be here, none of that will matter. Just having the opportunity to be the person God meant you to be -- even if no one ever sees it -- can be enough.
Do consider coming to Hollywood because you love the end product.
I know a guy who grew up in love with sitcoms. He inhaled them. He memorized them. He can reel off cast lists, sing opening credit songs for virtually every sitcom created over a 15-year period -- even those that got canceled within a few weeks.
I know another guy who loves being behind a film camera. Even if he didn't get paid for it, he insists, even if he had to work as a waiter or an insurance agency to pay the bills, that's how he would spend every spare minute of time: shooting film. He loves it that much.
Maybe you love your craft that much. You'd spend your weekends drawing cartoons just for the fun of it. You'd act in the dumbest church skit. You'd rather sit at your computer writing than anything else. Who cares if you get paid? Who cares if you get noticed? Just getting to do it is fulfilling.
Or maybe you just love being part of a huge vision and helping it come to reality. You might never have the big vision yourself, you might not view yourself as particularly artistic. But you can type, you can organize, you can crunch numbers -- and if you're part of "putting on a show," somehow those mundane activities seem more special, more important.
Now, you can be part of an artistic vision other places than in Hollywood. Maybe your contribution to culture will be to write or act in a good church skit (a rarity in itself!). But loving the end product of Hollywood is not a bad reason to think about making the move -- and it may be a prerequisite!
Do consider coming to Hollywood because you love the people here.
I once met the receptionist for one of the nastiest, slimiest, most vulgar producers in Hollywood. A guy who treats everyone like trash. And this receptionist absolutely adored him. "I know what everyone says about him," she told me, "but he's really the sweetest guy." The receptionist, who was indeed a Christian, had a vision of who her boss could be. A vision of who God made him to be.
It's easy to see that this receptionist was right where God wanted her to be: Loving a guy whom everyone considers unlovable. But she's in a dead-end job, working for a guy who'll never give her a promotion (or even a raise, possibly)! How could that be what God wants? Could God actually want us to be in a position where others are more important than we are? Where our real job is to help the people around us be who God has called them to be?
Of course He could. And in Hollywood, we need Christians who feel called to love the people here.
Now, lots of Christians do find it hard to love some of the folks they'll find in Hollywood. They find it hard to love those creative types -- after all, they don't follow the rules, they shake things up, they even (gasp!) make their own rules!
Or they find it hard to love people whose lifestyles they disapprove of. "Those sinners!" they think to themselves. "If we hang out with them, people will think we're like them! And we can't have that!"
Or they simply can't love people who are, frankly, unloveable. People like the nasty, vulgar producer I mentioned above. Or people who only look out for themselves, who are manipulative, who are selfish, who are power-hungry.
But all of these folks need to be loved. And if Christians won't do it, who will? We need Christians in Hollywood, in fact, simply to show the people here what love looks like. The non-believers in town don't want to hear dogma, they don't want to hear how rotten you think their lifestyles are -- but they do want to be loved.
When non-believers looked at the very early church, they said, "Behold, how they love one another." We sing, "They'll know we are Christians by our love."
If you can look at Hollywood types and love them whole-heartedly and unashamedly, then please do come to Hollywood!
Again, please please -- any and all comments!
==============
Do consider coming to Hollywood if that's who God made you to be.
In the musical A Chorus Line, Cassie sings, "God, I'm a dancer. A dancer dances."
If God truly put you on this earth to dance, it would be a sin if you didn't do it. A dancer dances. An actor acts. A writer writes. A designer designs.
For some of us, Hollywood is simply where we belong. Our talents, our desires, everything about us screams that this is home.
What that often means, of course, is that where you came from doesn't feel like "home." You don't fit in. People there don't understand what makes you tick, what you think important. You long for kindred spirits, for a place to belong.
Now, the irony here is that coming to Hollywood will not answer that feeling of wanting to belong. You'll come face to face with more rejection than you ever thought existed in the world -- guaranteed. But somehow, if you're meant to be here, none of that will matter. Just having the opportunity to be the person God meant you to be -- even if no one ever sees it -- can be enough.
Do consider coming to Hollywood because you love the end product.
I know a guy who grew up in love with sitcoms. He inhaled them. He memorized them. He can reel off cast lists, sing opening credit songs for virtually every sitcom created over a 15-year period -- even those that got canceled within a few weeks.
I know another guy who loves being behind a film camera. Even if he didn't get paid for it, he insists, even if he had to work as a waiter or an insurance agency to pay the bills, that's how he would spend every spare minute of time: shooting film. He loves it that much.
Maybe you love your craft that much. You'd spend your weekends drawing cartoons just for the fun of it. You'd act in the dumbest church skit. You'd rather sit at your computer writing than anything else. Who cares if you get paid? Who cares if you get noticed? Just getting to do it is fulfilling.
Or maybe you just love being part of a huge vision and helping it come to reality. You might never have the big vision yourself, you might not view yourself as particularly artistic. But you can type, you can organize, you can crunch numbers -- and if you're part of "putting on a show," somehow those mundane activities seem more special, more important.
Now, you can be part of an artistic vision other places than in Hollywood. Maybe your contribution to culture will be to write or act in a good church skit (a rarity in itself!). But loving the end product of Hollywood is not a bad reason to think about making the move -- and it may be a prerequisite!
Do consider coming to Hollywood because you love the people here.
I once met the receptionist for one of the nastiest, slimiest, most vulgar producers in Hollywood. A guy who treats everyone like trash. And this receptionist absolutely adored him. "I know what everyone says about him," she told me, "but he's really the sweetest guy." The receptionist, who was indeed a Christian, had a vision of who her boss could be. A vision of who God made him to be.
It's easy to see that this receptionist was right where God wanted her to be: Loving a guy whom everyone considers unlovable. But she's in a dead-end job, working for a guy who'll never give her a promotion (or even a raise, possibly)! How could that be what God wants? Could God actually want us to be in a position where others are more important than we are? Where our real job is to help the people around us be who God has called them to be?
Of course He could. And in Hollywood, we need Christians who feel called to love the people here.
Now, lots of Christians do find it hard to love some of the folks they'll find in Hollywood. They find it hard to love those creative types -- after all, they don't follow the rules, they shake things up, they even (gasp!) make their own rules!
Or they find it hard to love people whose lifestyles they disapprove of. "Those sinners!" they think to themselves. "If we hang out with them, people will think we're like them! And we can't have that!"
Or they simply can't love people who are, frankly, unloveable. People like the nasty, vulgar producer I mentioned above. Or people who only look out for themselves, who are manipulative, who are selfish, who are power-hungry.
But all of these folks need to be loved. And if Christians won't do it, who will? We need Christians in Hollywood, in fact, simply to show the people here what love looks like. The non-believers in town don't want to hear dogma, they don't want to hear how rotten you think their lifestyles are -- but they do want to be loved.
When non-believers looked at the very early church, they said, "Behold, how they love one another." We sing, "They'll know we are Christians by our love."
If you can look at Hollywood types and love them whole-heartedly and unashamedly, then please do come to Hollywood!
Wednesday, October 13, 2004
SO YOU WANNA COME TO HOLLYWOOD...
I don't know if Spencer at the Act One offices reads my blog, but if he does, he's heaving a sigh of relief right now. Because for months (maybe over a year's worth of months? I'm in denial) he's been bugging me: He's in charge of the Act One book: Greetings from the Church in Hollywood. And he's asked me for an article. And asked me. And asked me. And I've hemmed and hawed. And hemmed some more.
So here is a rough (ROUGH!) stream-of-consciousness pass at what I might want to say in my little chapter. Comment, please. Tell me what sucks. And because I'm just tossing this out there off the top of my head, I'm not putting in any of the Scripture I'll need to add -- if you have ideas, let me know.
I'm planning on addressing those folks who think they want to make the big move to Hollywood. I want to address their reasons for coming, then speak to what qualities they need if they're going to survive.
First off, I'll talk about the reasons for NOT coming to Hollywood. More in a future blog on the reasons FOR coming, and on what to bring with you if you come. Let me know if any of this even comes close to hitting the mark.
...And I do realize some of this may read a bit harsh. So I may start with the *good* reasons to come and flip these to the middle. Whatever. Anyway, here it is.
--------------
So it's come to this, has it? You wanna come to Hollywood.
Maybe all your life you felt deep down inside that the Oscars and the Emmys were really important, even though you could never justify why, even to yourself.
Maybe you had ideas -- really good ideas -- and no one in your small town high school understood what you were talking about and they all thought you were a tad weird.
Perhaps you watched something on TV and said, "I could do that." Or "I wish I could do that."
Maybe you watched something on TV or in the movies and got mad. Mad at the quality, mad at the message, mad at both.
Or maybe you thought God was calling you. The tap on the shoulder, the whisper in the ear. Or the burning bush, even, calling you to be a Moses, to go as a stranger into a strange land. But are you sure it's the voice of God? How do you know if you're supposed to go to Hollywood?
Well, I can't speak to whether that was God on the phone. But I can tell you why you should come to Hollywood -- or why you shouldn't. And I can tell you some things you'd better pack if you're going to make the trip.
Let's start with:
Five Reasons NOT to Come to Hollywood
Don't come to Hollywood because you want to be "Rich and Famous."
Christians, sadly, seem to want fame and fortune as much as everyone else. We practice our Oscar speeches during the commercials. We make our lists of who we'll thank. God of course, at the head of the list -- we want to be a "witness," after all. We envision our names in the credits, our faces on the screen. I know of a Christian who said he wanted to win an Oscar so he could "be humble before a billion people."
But the Hollywood Dream is a lie. The chances of "making it big" are less than the chances of winning the lottery big-time. (Literally. We know someone who ran the statistics.) When I was a little girl and I desperately wanted to be an (Oscar-winning) actress, my mom made me listen to Dionne Warwick singing "Do You Know the Way to San Jose?": In a week, maybe two / They'll make you a star / Weeks turn into years / How quick they pass / And all the stars / That never were / Are parking cars / And pumping gas. ...Change "pumping gas" for "waiting tables," and it's still true.
If you're seeking fame and fortune, you're seeking your own glory instead of God's. It's that simple. And you are bound for bitter disappointment.
Try this: Ask God not to give you "success" until you're ready to handle it in a way that glorifies Him. It's a scary prayer to pray. But until you're ready to pray it (and mean it), don't come to Hollywood.
Don't come to Hollywood because you want to be loved.
"You like me! You really, really like me!" We've all laughed at Sally Field's reaction to winning her second Oscar, but frankly, she showed a level of honesty and vulnerability that's not often seen in Hollywood.
Many people come to Hollywood because they want to prove something to their parents, to their brothers or sisters, to themselves. One award-winning actress once told me, "Well, of course the only reason anyone becomes an actor is because their parents didn't love them enough."
You already are loved. You are loved by the King of the Universe, who gave up his throne for you. If we saw that storyline in a movie, we'd know we were seeing true love. But we don't always accept it in our own lives.
No one will ever love you more than God Almighty already loves you. No audience, no fan club, no groupies will ever love you more. God will not love you more than He already does if you come to Hollywood and become a "success." And neither will anyone back home.
Don't come to Hollywood because you want to be a success for the Lord.
"I want to sell this script so I can glorify the Lord." "I want to be a big star because then I'd really have a public platform to praise the Lord." It sounds so spiritual. But it's only the Hollywood Dream wrapped up in the piety of religious platitudes.
Funny how we want to pick and choose how and where we'll serve God. We want the first part of Hebrews 11 [quote goes here], but we don't want to keep going down the chapter [quote goes here].
Maybe God will call you to Hollywood, call you to be a "success" according to the definition of the world. But that's His call to make. It better not be your motivation for coming.
Take another look at those "I want to..." statements. Have you ever heard anyone say something like that? Was it coming out of your mouth at the time? If so, better reconsider just why you want to come to Hollywood.
Don't come to Hollywood because you want power.
Hollywood is certainly a place that attracts people who are attracted to power. In his masterful book, In But Not Of: A Christian Guide to Ambition, Hugh Hewitt says there are only three cities that matter for someone with ambition: Washington, New York, and Los Angeles (i.e., Hollywood). And he's right.
But power is a dangerous thing. Very people are equipped to handle the kind of power wielded by those at the top of the Hollywood food chain. Maybe you will be one of them. I can pretty much guarantee, however, that you won't be ready to wield that kind of power the moment you set foot in town.
As Christians, we are to be servants, following our Lord, who came as a servant [quote]. Remember, God didn't call Joseph to be Pharoah, He called him to serve Pharoah.
Are you ready to be a servant? Are you ready to pay your dues? You say you'd rather skip all that and move straight to a position of power and influence? Then how will anyone even know you're a Christian?
Don't come to Hollywood because you want to pursue a moral agenda.
Yes, many people in Hollywood pursue lifestyles that could hardly be considered godly according to anyone's standards. Yes, the place is chock full of unrepentent, out-and-out sinners. But look around your home church. There's a place that's full of sinners, too.
If you want to come to Hollywood because you want to berate the people here about how wrong they are, take a quick stroll over to [verse] to see how Jesus felt about the Pharisees. [quote]
Sadly, this attitude of moral superiority is what many in Hollywood have come to expect from Christians. Let's surprise them. Come with an attitude of love, come with an attitude of service -- and let them try to figure that out!
"Wait a minute," you say. "I'm no Pharisee! But I'm truly grieved by the sins emanating from Hollywood." Here's an attitude test for you: Are you praying for the people in Hollywood with an attitude of love, wanting what God wants for them, praying for good for them? If you are, thank you. We all need those prayers!
-------
Okay, that's enough for now... I'll come back in a day or so with the *good* reasons to come to Hollywood.... And as I reread what I wrote above, I do indeed think I'll be leading off with the good reasons, so as not to scare everyone away! (And so poor Spencer doesn't have a heart attack...)
Thanks for reading and commenting! More to come!
So here is a rough (ROUGH!) stream-of-consciousness pass at what I might want to say in my little chapter. Comment, please. Tell me what sucks. And because I'm just tossing this out there off the top of my head, I'm not putting in any of the Scripture I'll need to add -- if you have ideas, let me know.
I'm planning on addressing those folks who think they want to make the big move to Hollywood. I want to address their reasons for coming, then speak to what qualities they need if they're going to survive.
First off, I'll talk about the reasons for NOT coming to Hollywood. More in a future blog on the reasons FOR coming, and on what to bring with you if you come. Let me know if any of this even comes close to hitting the mark.
...And I do realize some of this may read a bit harsh. So I may start with the *good* reasons to come and flip these to the middle. Whatever. Anyway, here it is.
--------------
So it's come to this, has it? You wanna come to Hollywood.
Maybe all your life you felt deep down inside that the Oscars and the Emmys were really important, even though you could never justify why, even to yourself.
Maybe you had ideas -- really good ideas -- and no one in your small town high school understood what you were talking about and they all thought you were a tad weird.
Perhaps you watched something on TV and said, "I could do that." Or "I wish I could do that."
Maybe you watched something on TV or in the movies and got mad. Mad at the quality, mad at the message, mad at both.
Or maybe you thought God was calling you. The tap on the shoulder, the whisper in the ear. Or the burning bush, even, calling you to be a Moses, to go as a stranger into a strange land. But are you sure it's the voice of God? How do you know if you're supposed to go to Hollywood?
Well, I can't speak to whether that was God on the phone. But I can tell you why you should come to Hollywood -- or why you shouldn't. And I can tell you some things you'd better pack if you're going to make the trip.
Let's start with:
Five Reasons NOT to Come to Hollywood
Don't come to Hollywood because you want to be "Rich and Famous."
Christians, sadly, seem to want fame and fortune as much as everyone else. We practice our Oscar speeches during the commercials. We make our lists of who we'll thank. God of course, at the head of the list -- we want to be a "witness," after all. We envision our names in the credits, our faces on the screen. I know of a Christian who said he wanted to win an Oscar so he could "be humble before a billion people."
But the Hollywood Dream is a lie. The chances of "making it big" are less than the chances of winning the lottery big-time. (Literally. We know someone who ran the statistics.) When I was a little girl and I desperately wanted to be an (Oscar-winning) actress, my mom made me listen to Dionne Warwick singing "Do You Know the Way to San Jose?": In a week, maybe two / They'll make you a star / Weeks turn into years / How quick they pass / And all the stars / That never were / Are parking cars / And pumping gas. ...Change "pumping gas" for "waiting tables," and it's still true.
If you're seeking fame and fortune, you're seeking your own glory instead of God's. It's that simple. And you are bound for bitter disappointment.
Try this: Ask God not to give you "success" until you're ready to handle it in a way that glorifies Him. It's a scary prayer to pray. But until you're ready to pray it (and mean it), don't come to Hollywood.
Don't come to Hollywood because you want to be loved.
"You like me! You really, really like me!" We've all laughed at Sally Field's reaction to winning her second Oscar, but frankly, she showed a level of honesty and vulnerability that's not often seen in Hollywood.
Many people come to Hollywood because they want to prove something to their parents, to their brothers or sisters, to themselves. One award-winning actress once told me, "Well, of course the only reason anyone becomes an actor is because their parents didn't love them enough."
You already are loved. You are loved by the King of the Universe, who gave up his throne for you. If we saw that storyline in a movie, we'd know we were seeing true love. But we don't always accept it in our own lives.
No one will ever love you more than God Almighty already loves you. No audience, no fan club, no groupies will ever love you more. God will not love you more than He already does if you come to Hollywood and become a "success." And neither will anyone back home.
Don't come to Hollywood because you want to be a success for the Lord.
"I want to sell this script so I can glorify the Lord." "I want to be a big star because then I'd really have a public platform to praise the Lord." It sounds so spiritual. But it's only the Hollywood Dream wrapped up in the piety of religious platitudes.
Funny how we want to pick and choose how and where we'll serve God. We want the first part of Hebrews 11 [quote goes here], but we don't want to keep going down the chapter [quote goes here].
Maybe God will call you to Hollywood, call you to be a "success" according to the definition of the world. But that's His call to make. It better not be your motivation for coming.
Take another look at those "I want to..." statements. Have you ever heard anyone say something like that? Was it coming out of your mouth at the time? If so, better reconsider just why you want to come to Hollywood.
Don't come to Hollywood because you want power.
Hollywood is certainly a place that attracts people who are attracted to power. In his masterful book, In But Not Of: A Christian Guide to Ambition, Hugh Hewitt says there are only three cities that matter for someone with ambition: Washington, New York, and Los Angeles (i.e., Hollywood). And he's right.
But power is a dangerous thing. Very people are equipped to handle the kind of power wielded by those at the top of the Hollywood food chain. Maybe you will be one of them. I can pretty much guarantee, however, that you won't be ready to wield that kind of power the moment you set foot in town.
As Christians, we are to be servants, following our Lord, who came as a servant [quote]. Remember, God didn't call Joseph to be Pharoah, He called him to serve Pharoah.
Are you ready to be a servant? Are you ready to pay your dues? You say you'd rather skip all that and move straight to a position of power and influence? Then how will anyone even know you're a Christian?
Don't come to Hollywood because you want to pursue a moral agenda.
Yes, many people in Hollywood pursue lifestyles that could hardly be considered godly according to anyone's standards. Yes, the place is chock full of unrepentent, out-and-out sinners. But look around your home church. There's a place that's full of sinners, too.
If you want to come to Hollywood because you want to berate the people here about how wrong they are, take a quick stroll over to [verse] to see how Jesus felt about the Pharisees. [quote]
Sadly, this attitude of moral superiority is what many in Hollywood have come to expect from Christians. Let's surprise them. Come with an attitude of love, come with an attitude of service -- and let them try to figure that out!
"Wait a minute," you say. "I'm no Pharisee! But I'm truly grieved by the sins emanating from Hollywood." Here's an attitude test for you: Are you praying for the people in Hollywood with an attitude of love, wanting what God wants for them, praying for good for them? If you are, thank you. We all need those prayers!
-------
Okay, that's enough for now... I'll come back in a day or so with the *good* reasons to come to Hollywood.... And as I reread what I wrote above, I do indeed think I'll be leading off with the good reasons, so as not to scare everyone away! (And so poor Spencer doesn't have a heart attack...)
Thanks for reading and commenting! More to come!
Monday, October 11, 2004
!@#$%^&*
Get that bar of soap ready, 'cause we're gonna be needing it today.
This last week I read a couple of articles back to back that, unfortunately, didn't shock me. The first was a report on research done in New Zealand about the use of swearing in the workplace.
According to the findings of this research study, using the f-word within the confines of one's work team helps to "build and reinforce team morale." Within the context of a work team, the use of the f-word was not considered offensive, rude or insulting. (The same study also found that whining and complaining, in the right context, builds team rapport.)
The study concluded that the fact that the f-word is acceptable at work is "proof positive that our language is constantly evolving."
Well, duh. Language changes. This is definitionally *not* news. But I don't think it's language change we're seeing here.
The second article: A former writers' assistant on Friends has filed a lawsuit stemming from the hostile work environment in the writers' room on the sitcom. Basically, she claims the sexual, racial and religious denegration flying around the writers' room led to discrimination against her. (The court threw out the discrimination claims, but allowed her to proceed with the hostile-work-environment argument.)
The article discussing this lawsuit focused primarily on how radically all sitcom "boiler rooms," as they put it, would have to change, because all writers' rooms rely on foul language and offensive behavior to function. The article postulated that perhaps there are places where such behavior should simply be expected, and not censured in any way.
Okay, I'm all for freedom of speech. And I do think this particular writers' assistant almost certainly falls in the "If you can't stand the heat..." category (How did she get the job if she didn't know the world she was walking into?).
But...
Have we really sunk so low that such rudeness is *expected*? That we don't even blink? That no one even says, "Well, we know we shouldn't, but...."? I'm not shocked that foul language is common in a writers' room or (in the first story) in a soap factory. But shouldn't *someone* at least acknowledge that they're aware that their behavior is bad, even if they have no plans to change it?
It took me back to one of my favorite sci-fi books (I'm not recommending it here, mind you, as I know it is *far* from being a Christian book and it has much to offend in it): Friday by Robert A. Heinlein.
Friday, who is, well, let's just call her a supergenius for the time being, has been asked by her Boss to study several open-ended questions, one of which is "What are the marks of a sick culture?"
Friday comes up with many fascinating answers: Identification with a racial, religious or linguistic group rather than with the whole population. Loss of faith in the police and the courts. High taxation, inflation, too many people on the public payroll. Stupid laws. Violence, especially petty violence. But her Boss stops her:
"Friday, I think you have missed the most alarming symptom of all."
"I have? Are you going to tell me? Or am I going to have to grope around in the dark for it?"
"Mmm. This once I shall tell you. But go back and search for it. Examine it. Sick cultures show a complex of symptoms such as you have named... but a dying culture invariably exhibits personal rudeness. Bad manners. Lack of consideration for others in minor matters. A loss of politeness, of gentle manners, is more significant than is a riot."
"Really?"
"Pfui. I should have forced you to dig it out for yourself; then you would know it. This symptom is especially serious in that an individual displaying it never thinks of it as a sign of ill health but as proof of his/her strength. Look for it. Study it..."
Before someone tells me that "rude is the new polite," I think I'm going to stuff that bar of soap in my handbag and get ready to go out and wash out some mouths.
This last week I read a couple of articles back to back that, unfortunately, didn't shock me. The first was a report on research done in New Zealand about the use of swearing in the workplace.
According to the findings of this research study, using the f-word within the confines of one's work team helps to "build and reinforce team morale." Within the context of a work team, the use of the f-word was not considered offensive, rude or insulting. (The same study also found that whining and complaining, in the right context, builds team rapport.)
The study concluded that the fact that the f-word is acceptable at work is "proof positive that our language is constantly evolving."
Well, duh. Language changes. This is definitionally *not* news. But I don't think it's language change we're seeing here.
The second article: A former writers' assistant on Friends has filed a lawsuit stemming from the hostile work environment in the writers' room on the sitcom. Basically, she claims the sexual, racial and religious denegration flying around the writers' room led to discrimination against her. (The court threw out the discrimination claims, but allowed her to proceed with the hostile-work-environment argument.)
The article discussing this lawsuit focused primarily on how radically all sitcom "boiler rooms," as they put it, would have to change, because all writers' rooms rely on foul language and offensive behavior to function. The article postulated that perhaps there are places where such behavior should simply be expected, and not censured in any way.
Okay, I'm all for freedom of speech. And I do think this particular writers' assistant almost certainly falls in the "If you can't stand the heat..." category (How did she get the job if she didn't know the world she was walking into?).
But...
Have we really sunk so low that such rudeness is *expected*? That we don't even blink? That no one even says, "Well, we know we shouldn't, but...."? I'm not shocked that foul language is common in a writers' room or (in the first story) in a soap factory. But shouldn't *someone* at least acknowledge that they're aware that their behavior is bad, even if they have no plans to change it?
It took me back to one of my favorite sci-fi books (I'm not recommending it here, mind you, as I know it is *far* from being a Christian book and it has much to offend in it): Friday by Robert A. Heinlein.
Friday, who is, well, let's just call her a supergenius for the time being, has been asked by her Boss to study several open-ended questions, one of which is "What are the marks of a sick culture?"
Friday comes up with many fascinating answers: Identification with a racial, religious or linguistic group rather than with the whole population. Loss of faith in the police and the courts. High taxation, inflation, too many people on the public payroll. Stupid laws. Violence, especially petty violence. But her Boss stops her:
"Friday, I think you have missed the most alarming symptom of all."
"I have? Are you going to tell me? Or am I going to have to grope around in the dark for it?"
"Mmm. This once I shall tell you. But go back and search for it. Examine it. Sick cultures show a complex of symptoms such as you have named... but a dying culture invariably exhibits personal rudeness. Bad manners. Lack of consideration for others in minor matters. A loss of politeness, of gentle manners, is more significant than is a riot."
"Really?"
"Pfui. I should have forced you to dig it out for yourself; then you would know it. This symptom is especially serious in that an individual displaying it never thinks of it as a sign of ill health but as proof of his/her strength. Look for it. Study it..."
Before someone tells me that "rude is the new polite," I think I'm going to stuff that bar of soap in my handbag and get ready to go out and wash out some mouths.
Saturday, October 09, 2004
FROM ZERO TO IG NOBEL IN 5 SECONDS
About a week ago, the 2004 Ig Nobel prizes were handed out. The Ig Nobels are given to research that "cannot or should not be reproduced." Some of them are for good research. Many of them are for stupid research. They are often laugh-out-loud funny (and the bizarre nature of the prizes is continued at the award ceremony, where Nobel prize winners are recruited to hand out the Ig Nobels -- often to their own bemusement and consternation).
My favorite prize of the year went to an Illinois high school student who studied the scientific validity of the "5-second rule": If food falls to the floor but is on the floor for less than 5 seconds, it's safe to eat it.
(In our house, it's the 3-second rule. Either we're more sanitary or more impatient.)
Here's one of my favorite parts of Ms. Jillian Clarke's research: She apparently found the source of the 5-second rule. Way back when, Genghis Khan had it, but then it was the 12-hour rule. Apparently we've become waaaay more impatient than then.
Clarke found out that most people (70% women, 56% men) know about the rule and use it regularly. Women are more likely to eat food that's been on the floor. (Okay, I admit it. Especially if it's a donut).
But is the 5-second rule real? That is, is food safe if it's on the floor for 5 seconds or less?
Well, it depends.
If your floor is clean, yes. The food is safe to eat 5 seconds later.
If your floor is dirty, no. When Clarke planted E. coli bacteria on sterile tile, food was contaminated by the bacteria in less than 5 seconds.
I am actually very grateful to know the truth on this. "Ig Nobel" research or not, I've always wondered: Was I totally lying to my kids when I authoritatively counted off seconds? Now, I know the answer: Maybe.
I'd go on about these findings, but I feel a sudden need to dig out the Mop 'n' Glow. Happy eating!
My favorite prize of the year went to an Illinois high school student who studied the scientific validity of the "5-second rule": If food falls to the floor but is on the floor for less than 5 seconds, it's safe to eat it.
(In our house, it's the 3-second rule. Either we're more sanitary or more impatient.)
Here's one of my favorite parts of Ms. Jillian Clarke's research: She apparently found the source of the 5-second rule. Way back when, Genghis Khan had it, but then it was the 12-hour rule. Apparently we've become waaaay more impatient than then.
Clarke found out that most people (70% women, 56% men) know about the rule and use it regularly. Women are more likely to eat food that's been on the floor. (Okay, I admit it. Especially if it's a donut).
But is the 5-second rule real? That is, is food safe if it's on the floor for 5 seconds or less?
Well, it depends.
If your floor is clean, yes. The food is safe to eat 5 seconds later.
If your floor is dirty, no. When Clarke planted E. coli bacteria on sterile tile, food was contaminated by the bacteria in less than 5 seconds.
I am actually very grateful to know the truth on this. "Ig Nobel" research or not, I've always wondered: Was I totally lying to my kids when I authoritatively counted off seconds? Now, I know the answer: Maybe.
I'd go on about these findings, but I feel a sudden need to dig out the Mop 'n' Glow. Happy eating!
Friday, October 08, 2004
INTO THE WILD BLACK YONDER
As I was driving home from dropping my kids off at school the other day, I was listening to the radio. And instead of political infighting, they had something exciting to report: SpaceShip 1 had successfully completed its third trip past the threshold of outer space, and had won the $10 million X-Prize.
And I got a biiiiig smile on my face.
You see, when I was a little kid, I decided there were three things I *really* wanted to do in my life.
One was to fly faster than the speed of sound. (We were near enough to a lot of test flights that I grew up hearing a lot of sonic booms. And then forgot about them, enough so that the last time the space shuttle landed in California, I had to figure out what the big boom was.)
One was to experience weightlessness.
And one was to be in the eye of a hurricane. (It never occurred to me that I'd have to experience the *rest* of the hurricane to check this one off.)
With the demise of the Concorde, the first one seemed out of reach. And while I have pilot friends who have offered to give me a few seconds of weightlessness, well, somehow that wasn't what I imagined as a kid.
But now, with the imminent advent of commercial space flight, well, at least the possibility is there. "To boldly go where no tourist has gone before..."
Yes, it'd be a trifle difficult to justify the $60,000, $70,000, $80,000 or whatever they'll charge for those flights. (Also a trifle difficult to come up with that much disposable income. But that's another story.) But when money is the only thing keeping you from something, well, it just seems a lot closer, that's all.
At least it means I can keep the first two things on my "to-do" list. (Now, if I could just persuade them to land the thing through the eye of a hurricane.... hmmmm.)
And I got a biiiiig smile on my face.
You see, when I was a little kid, I decided there were three things I *really* wanted to do in my life.
One was to fly faster than the speed of sound. (We were near enough to a lot of test flights that I grew up hearing a lot of sonic booms. And then forgot about them, enough so that the last time the space shuttle landed in California, I had to figure out what the big boom was.)
One was to experience weightlessness.
And one was to be in the eye of a hurricane. (It never occurred to me that I'd have to experience the *rest* of the hurricane to check this one off.)
With the demise of the Concorde, the first one seemed out of reach. And while I have pilot friends who have offered to give me a few seconds of weightlessness, well, somehow that wasn't what I imagined as a kid.
But now, with the imminent advent of commercial space flight, well, at least the possibility is there. "To boldly go where no tourist has gone before..."
Yes, it'd be a trifle difficult to justify the $60,000, $70,000, $80,000 or whatever they'll charge for those flights. (Also a trifle difficult to come up with that much disposable income. But that's another story.) But when money is the only thing keeping you from something, well, it just seems a lot closer, that's all.
At least it means I can keep the first two things on my "to-do" list. (Now, if I could just persuade them to land the thing through the eye of a hurricane.... hmmmm.)
Wednesday, October 06, 2004
PRAYER AND SCHMOOZING
On Friday, I had the privilege of attending the "first annual" National Media Prayer Breakfast, held in Beverly Hills and sponsored by Mastermedia in alliance with the Hollywood Prayer Network, run by our long-time friend Karen Covell (and all of you should be clicking over to her site right now to sign up to pray for folks in Hollywood).
The breakfast was meticulously planned and executed. I was truly impressed to watch approximately 600 people be served a plated breakfast within about six minutes. The "show" went off like clockwork, was clearly genuinely moving to many people in the room. Very impressive. I was rather stunned to realize that half the people in the room were *not* in the media (they had us media folks stand) -- and some of those who claimed to be in the media... well, the guy next to me sells advertising to magazines I've never heard of. Okay.
These huge "we-are-Christians-hear-us-roar" events often make me cautious. There's a danger in being or appearing too self-promoting or smug. (And for my taste, there was a tad too much self-promotion on the part of Mastermedia -- just a tad.) There's a danger in possibly using "in-group" language that will mean something different to the outsiders in the room -- a danger the NMPB seemed to try to avoid, though of course individual speakers were spouting Christianese as if it was their first language.
So what's the good of an event like this? Well, the prayer. (Duh.) But here's what I think the real good is: Because I was in the room, I was able to warn a friend that a guy she spotted at a friend's table, who had shown up on her eharmony.com match list, was actually a fraud who had been kicked out of his home church for heresy (Guess what she logged on to the second she got back to work?!). And I met a guy visiting from the Artisan community in London, and was able to whisper the words "Act One: London" in his ear... and who knows what will come of that.
Now multiply that by 600 or so. Many, many good things will come about, I know, because of the hard work put in to making this breakfast a reality. So not only a classy production, but a place to plant seeds. That's pretty good for two hours in Beverly Hills.
The real test, though, is always: What does someone think who's walking in the door for the first time? Who *isn't* part of the community, who doesn't speak the language? And by that standards, I'd say the NMPB passed the test with flying colors... as witness this column by Brian Lowry in today's Variety:
Org throws up a prayer for media moguls: Mastermedia Intl's Hollywood breakfast reveals a little-seen side of Christianity
Hundreds assembled at the Beverly Hilton Hotel Friday to support media leaders in a manner that won't necessarily boost ratings or heighten box office.
They prayed for them.
It was the first National Media Prayer Breakfast, organized by Mastermedia Intl., a nonprofit organization I wrote about a few months before "The Passion of the Christ" became a phenomenon. (The goodie bag contained DVDs of the film for the six people in the room who hadn't seen it.)
Granted, the ballroom that hosts the Golden Globes might seem an incongruous venue for exalting the power of prayer, but the well-groomed crowd included Hollywood denizens who gave themselves away by saying "Good morning" and "Amen" with alarming frequency, in near-perfect unison.
The program, complete with a musical performance by John Tesh, closed with everyone being asked to pray for media executives and "cultural influencers." The idea is to engage said leaders on a more positive level than, say, the Rev. Donald Wildmon's group, praying that morality will inform choices that eventually touch millions across the globe.
Attendees received one of several alaphabetically arranged cards totaling more than 700n names. My list consisted of MTV Networks CEO Judy McGrath, MGM chief operating officer Chris McGurk, Ed McMahon and Elle McPherson. (Actually, I'm pretty sure that I have prayed for McPherson before, but not quite in this way.)
It's easy to joke about such matters, especially if your beliefs lean toward the secular. Yet the prayer breakrast -- which organizers plan to make an annual event -- showcased a side of the Christian community that receives scant exposure compared with their sexier (by media standards, anyway) hellfire-breathing brethren.
Moreover, if Mel Gibson's film underscored anything, it's the vast audience that doesn't find much aimed at them in the auteur section of their local videostore. This point was driven home seeing The Passion" at a North Hollywood theater filled with what charitably might be called non-traditional moviegoers, including a trio of middle-aged nuns.
Mastermedia CEO Larry Poland set the tone by stressing that the event came free of any political agenda, proceeding to apologize to Jews and gays who might feel wronged by the Jerry Falwell wing (my citation, not his) of evangelical Christianity.
Poland dismissed any sense of superiority "that somehow our sins are on a lesser order of magnitude than your sins.... The ground is leve here at the foot of the cross." He even offered media leaders a sort-of alibi by calling them "people of great influence," faced with equally great "pressures and temptations."
Admittedly, I winced listening to actress Rhonda Fleming, among the featured presenters, claim that prayer had cured a tumor. Maybe so (my guess is Penn & Teller would have their doubts), but such beliefs have allowed televangelists to fleece too many desperate-to-believe folks through the years, amassing wealth that has more to do with the teachings of P.T. Barnum than the Bible.
Still, the breakfast offered a reminder that in a media culture where squeaky wheels garner airtime, approaches to faith are often more varied than the common monolithic depiction. And given polls indicating a vast majority of Americans consider themselves pious, Hollywood ignores the portion it can reason with at its peril -- commercially, if not ecumenically.
This week's Mastermedia prayer calendar, by the way, features Warner Bros. TV Prexy Peter Roth, Fox Filmed Entertainment co-chair Tom Rothman, producer Scott Rudin, Kurt Fussell, Tim Russert, and mogul Haim Saban.
For those who don't buy into the prayer thing, perhaps you can take the day off from rooting for them to fail.
The breakfast was meticulously planned and executed. I was truly impressed to watch approximately 600 people be served a plated breakfast within about six minutes. The "show" went off like clockwork, was clearly genuinely moving to many people in the room. Very impressive. I was rather stunned to realize that half the people in the room were *not* in the media (they had us media folks stand) -- and some of those who claimed to be in the media... well, the guy next to me sells advertising to magazines I've never heard of. Okay.
These huge "we-are-Christians-hear-us-roar" events often make me cautious. There's a danger in being or appearing too self-promoting or smug. (And for my taste, there was a tad too much self-promotion on the part of Mastermedia -- just a tad.) There's a danger in possibly using "in-group" language that will mean something different to the outsiders in the room -- a danger the NMPB seemed to try to avoid, though of course individual speakers were spouting Christianese as if it was their first language.
So what's the good of an event like this? Well, the prayer. (Duh.) But here's what I think the real good is: Because I was in the room, I was able to warn a friend that a guy she spotted at a friend's table, who had shown up on her eharmony.com match list, was actually a fraud who had been kicked out of his home church for heresy (Guess what she logged on to the second she got back to work?!). And I met a guy visiting from the Artisan community in London, and was able to whisper the words "Act One: London" in his ear... and who knows what will come of that.
Now multiply that by 600 or so. Many, many good things will come about, I know, because of the hard work put in to making this breakfast a reality. So not only a classy production, but a place to plant seeds. That's pretty good for two hours in Beverly Hills.
The real test, though, is always: What does someone think who's walking in the door for the first time? Who *isn't* part of the community, who doesn't speak the language? And by that standards, I'd say the NMPB passed the test with flying colors... as witness this column by Brian Lowry in today's Variety:
Org throws up a prayer for media moguls: Mastermedia Intl's Hollywood breakfast reveals a little-seen side of Christianity
Hundreds assembled at the Beverly Hilton Hotel Friday to support media leaders in a manner that won't necessarily boost ratings or heighten box office.
They prayed for them.
It was the first National Media Prayer Breakfast, organized by Mastermedia Intl., a nonprofit organization I wrote about a few months before "The Passion of the Christ" became a phenomenon. (The goodie bag contained DVDs of the film for the six people in the room who hadn't seen it.)
Granted, the ballroom that hosts the Golden Globes might seem an incongruous venue for exalting the power of prayer, but the well-groomed crowd included Hollywood denizens who gave themselves away by saying "Good morning" and "Amen" with alarming frequency, in near-perfect unison.
The program, complete with a musical performance by John Tesh, closed with everyone being asked to pray for media executives and "cultural influencers." The idea is to engage said leaders on a more positive level than, say, the Rev. Donald Wildmon's group, praying that morality will inform choices that eventually touch millions across the globe.
Attendees received one of several alaphabetically arranged cards totaling more than 700n names. My list consisted of MTV Networks CEO Judy McGrath, MGM chief operating officer Chris McGurk, Ed McMahon and Elle McPherson. (Actually, I'm pretty sure that I have prayed for McPherson before, but not quite in this way.)
It's easy to joke about such matters, especially if your beliefs lean toward the secular. Yet the prayer breakrast -- which organizers plan to make an annual event -- showcased a side of the Christian community that receives scant exposure compared with their sexier (by media standards, anyway) hellfire-breathing brethren.
Moreover, if Mel Gibson's film underscored anything, it's the vast audience that doesn't find much aimed at them in the auteur section of their local videostore. This point was driven home seeing The Passion" at a North Hollywood theater filled with what charitably might be called non-traditional moviegoers, including a trio of middle-aged nuns.
Mastermedia CEO Larry Poland set the tone by stressing that the event came free of any political agenda, proceeding to apologize to Jews and gays who might feel wronged by the Jerry Falwell wing (my citation, not his) of evangelical Christianity.
Poland dismissed any sense of superiority "that somehow our sins are on a lesser order of magnitude than your sins.... The ground is leve here at the foot of the cross." He even offered media leaders a sort-of alibi by calling them "people of great influence," faced with equally great "pressures and temptations."
Admittedly, I winced listening to actress Rhonda Fleming, among the featured presenters, claim that prayer had cured a tumor. Maybe so (my guess is Penn & Teller would have their doubts), but such beliefs have allowed televangelists to fleece too many desperate-to-believe folks through the years, amassing wealth that has more to do with the teachings of P.T. Barnum than the Bible.
Still, the breakfast offered a reminder that in a media culture where squeaky wheels garner airtime, approaches to faith are often more varied than the common monolithic depiction. And given polls indicating a vast majority of Americans consider themselves pious, Hollywood ignores the portion it can reason with at its peril -- commercially, if not ecumenically.
This week's Mastermedia prayer calendar, by the way, features Warner Bros. TV Prexy Peter Roth, Fox Filmed Entertainment co-chair Tom Rothman, producer Scott Rudin, Kurt Fussell, Tim Russert, and mogul Haim Saban.
For those who don't buy into the prayer thing, perhaps you can take the day off from rooting for them to fail.
Tuesday, October 05, 2004
TV THOUGHTS: LOST
Wow. *Two* new scripted shows that I think I might keep tuning into this season. It shouldn't be so astonishing, but lemme tell you, it's been a while.
It's hard to say this early how Lost will settle in as a series. They've had two "episodes," but really it was a 2-hour pilot split into halves. And they always spend more time, money and effort on a pilot, so possibly the show itself won't keep going at the high pace it's set for itself.
Nevertheless, that pinch of pessimism aside, I found Lost quite watchable indeed. The premise is simple: A commercial jet goes down 1000 miles off course, lands on a deserted tropical island. The survivors have to, well, survive, using only what they find on the island and what's left in and on the plane. (You can almost hear the pitch: "It's Survivor, but for real -- I mean, not for real, scripted -- but real-- I mean-- Oh, you know what I mean.")
Drama is inherently based on conflict, and there is possibility for conflict galore on this show. You've got the conflicts between the various personalities: The freak, the guy going crazy, the escaped convict (*not* who we ever would have suspected, in a nice episode-two twist), the nail-painting princess, the former Iraqi soldier, the (rather politically incorrect) Korean couple, the guy who's always angry, the fat guy, etc., all presided over by the increasingly strained doctor. These can play out in every permutation, and the cast is large enough to keep conflict going in all sorts of ways for quite a while (as opposed to say, ER, where, even though the cast is fairly large by TV standards, they run the interpersonal conflicts into the ground so often that they *have* to keep changing characters just to move forward).
Lost also has something very few episodic TV shows can incorporate: existential conflict. Just staying alive is going to cause drama. What will they eat when the foil wrapped airplane food runs out (and what airline is this, by the way, that it's still serving food)? How will they survive weather? How will they deal with efforts to contact the outside world -- and the necessary failure of those efforts? And what *is* that nasty snarling deadly animal on the island anyway (do we really think it's the polar bear they killed in episode 2)? (Personally, I'd like to get rid of the yeti or whatever it's going to be asap -- the show will be more interesting without it, and becomes cliche whenever they start the animal storyline up.)
And of course, each person brings with them their own internal conflict, which can be externalized in interesting ways. The post-traumatic stress of realizing you may never go home again, may never see your loved ones again. The inner secrets that will come out over time (our escaped convict's secrets obviously ready to be revealed soon).
Too many one-hour dramas have a nice idea and nice characters, but nothing to drive the story forward for 100 episodes. The easiest way around it is to have a "franchise" -- basically, a case to be solved every week, be it by cops, doctors, medical examiners, crime scene investigators, lawyers, or little old ladies who write murder mysteries. But without a franchise -- when all you have is the situation the characters find themselves in to drive the story forward -- you can find yourself stuck, bored and boring by the end of the first season.
Lost has a great situation. 100 episodes? I could make a list of episode ideas that long or longer by the end of today: That's how rich the situation is. Were I an episodic writer, this is the show I'd be writing a spec for -- quick, before they get to the really juicy ideas themselves.
All they have to do is play it out from where they've set it up, and they've got me watching.
ABC, Wednesdays, 8:00 p.m.
It's hard to say this early how Lost will settle in as a series. They've had two "episodes," but really it was a 2-hour pilot split into halves. And they always spend more time, money and effort on a pilot, so possibly the show itself won't keep going at the high pace it's set for itself.
Nevertheless, that pinch of pessimism aside, I found Lost quite watchable indeed. The premise is simple: A commercial jet goes down 1000 miles off course, lands on a deserted tropical island. The survivors have to, well, survive, using only what they find on the island and what's left in and on the plane. (You can almost hear the pitch: "It's Survivor, but for real -- I mean, not for real, scripted -- but real-- I mean-- Oh, you know what I mean.")
Drama is inherently based on conflict, and there is possibility for conflict galore on this show. You've got the conflicts between the various personalities: The freak, the guy going crazy, the escaped convict (*not* who we ever would have suspected, in a nice episode-two twist), the nail-painting princess, the former Iraqi soldier, the (rather politically incorrect) Korean couple, the guy who's always angry, the fat guy, etc., all presided over by the increasingly strained doctor. These can play out in every permutation, and the cast is large enough to keep conflict going in all sorts of ways for quite a while (as opposed to say, ER, where, even though the cast is fairly large by TV standards, they run the interpersonal conflicts into the ground so often that they *have* to keep changing characters just to move forward).
Lost also has something very few episodic TV shows can incorporate: existential conflict. Just staying alive is going to cause drama. What will they eat when the foil wrapped airplane food runs out (and what airline is this, by the way, that it's still serving food)? How will they survive weather? How will they deal with efforts to contact the outside world -- and the necessary failure of those efforts? And what *is* that nasty snarling deadly animal on the island anyway (do we really think it's the polar bear they killed in episode 2)? (Personally, I'd like to get rid of the yeti or whatever it's going to be asap -- the show will be more interesting without it, and becomes cliche whenever they start the animal storyline up.)
And of course, each person brings with them their own internal conflict, which can be externalized in interesting ways. The post-traumatic stress of realizing you may never go home again, may never see your loved ones again. The inner secrets that will come out over time (our escaped convict's secrets obviously ready to be revealed soon).
Too many one-hour dramas have a nice idea and nice characters, but nothing to drive the story forward for 100 episodes. The easiest way around it is to have a "franchise" -- basically, a case to be solved every week, be it by cops, doctors, medical examiners, crime scene investigators, lawyers, or little old ladies who write murder mysteries. But without a franchise -- when all you have is the situation the characters find themselves in to drive the story forward -- you can find yourself stuck, bored and boring by the end of the first season.
Lost has a great situation. 100 episodes? I could make a list of episode ideas that long or longer by the end of today: That's how rich the situation is. Were I an episodic writer, this is the show I'd be writing a spec for -- quick, before they get to the really juicy ideas themselves.
All they have to do is play it out from where they've set it up, and they've got me watching.
ABC, Wednesdays, 8:00 p.m.
Saturday, October 02, 2004
TV THOUGHTS: CLUBHOUSE
I guess I have an old-fashioned streak, because I really enjoyed this sweet, slow-paced show in its first two outings. (Or should I say, first two "innings"? You may groan here.)
Clubhouse, produced by the seemingly unlikely duo of Mel Gibson and Aaron Spelling, almost feels like a period piece, though it's not. It's the story of Pete Young, a batboy for the "Empires," a New York baseball team that is probably meant to resemble the Yankees (any New Yorkers wanna tell me what stadium they're filming in, by the way?). He balances his too-demanding after-school job as a batboy with his responsibilities at a Catholic high school (where many of his teachers and his principal are, fortunately for Pete, big Empires fans). Also adding to pressure is his home life, where his single mom wants him to focus on his grades, and his out-of-control older sister flirts with trouble constantly.
Pete is played by Jeremy Sumpter, most recently seen as the utterly bewitching title character in 2003's vastly-overlooked Peter Pan, and he does a lovely job. Other recognizable actors include Mare Winningham as Pete's harried real-estate-agent mom (and a mom who actually looks the right age for the kids she has -- a rarity on TV), the luscious Dean Cain (aka "Superman") as the Empires' big star, and the always-terrific Christopher Lloyd ("Doc Brown" in the Back to the Future movies) as the irascible equipment manager.
The balancing of the three worlds is nicely done, and gives them fodder for future episodes. The Catholic school is nicely handled -- strict, a bit old-world, and yet a place where the kids are clearly deeply cared for. You sort of wish your own high school had been a bit more like this one. The home life has nice conflict, including the unresolved backstory of just what happened to Pete's loser dad. And the B-stories (in episode 2, Pete's sister steals and disfigures a statue at the school) are, so far, interesting.
Then there's the baseball. The world of baseball is boring as hell (to me), but seeing it through the starry eyes of the bat boy makes it interesting: It becomes about living your dreams, about the everything-is-possible future instead of about statistics and the infield fly rule. A fair amount of "blue sky," always nice on TV, but not so much actual baseball as to slow down the storyline. (But all that blue sky, in a real stadium, yet: It has to be mondo expensive. Or else they're CGI'ing all the extras -- also expensive.)
The real question: Is there enough here to make it to 100 episodes? That's not clear yet. They've already blown through two of the obvious topics -- steroids and bat-corking -- and I sure can't come up with a long list of other "edgy" subject matter for them to cover. The character dynamics are there to make it possible, though, if they go deep enough. (And it's amazing how very hard it is to come up with that kind of character dynamics -- one of the reasons networks often look to feature writers, who are used to facing the blank page and to creating characters, to write pilots, rather than to TV writers, who often spend more time putting clever dialogue into the mouths of already-existing characters.)
At any event, I really enjoyed the show. It's sort of nice to have a new *scripted* show to watch -- it's embarrassing, as a screenwriter, to watch more reality TV than scripted TV, but frankly, other than The West Wing and Joan of Arcadia, there's not much on that's well-written or compelling enough to get me to watch every week.
Clubhouse could be worth coming back to every week. (As could Lost, which I'll blog about momentarily.) I'm not sure it's gonna hit it out of the park every time, but it feels like a solid double is something we can certainly expect. And these days, that's pretty good.
CBS, 9:00 p.m. Tuesdays. I don't know how many innings it'll last, but give it a try.
Clubhouse, produced by the seemingly unlikely duo of Mel Gibson and Aaron Spelling, almost feels like a period piece, though it's not. It's the story of Pete Young, a batboy for the "Empires," a New York baseball team that is probably meant to resemble the Yankees (any New Yorkers wanna tell me what stadium they're filming in, by the way?). He balances his too-demanding after-school job as a batboy with his responsibilities at a Catholic high school (where many of his teachers and his principal are, fortunately for Pete, big Empires fans). Also adding to pressure is his home life, where his single mom wants him to focus on his grades, and his out-of-control older sister flirts with trouble constantly.
Pete is played by Jeremy Sumpter, most recently seen as the utterly bewitching title character in 2003's vastly-overlooked Peter Pan, and he does a lovely job. Other recognizable actors include Mare Winningham as Pete's harried real-estate-agent mom (and a mom who actually looks the right age for the kids she has -- a rarity on TV), the luscious Dean Cain (aka "Superman") as the Empires' big star, and the always-terrific Christopher Lloyd ("Doc Brown" in the Back to the Future movies) as the irascible equipment manager.
The balancing of the three worlds is nicely done, and gives them fodder for future episodes. The Catholic school is nicely handled -- strict, a bit old-world, and yet a place where the kids are clearly deeply cared for. You sort of wish your own high school had been a bit more like this one. The home life has nice conflict, including the unresolved backstory of just what happened to Pete's loser dad. And the B-stories (in episode 2, Pete's sister steals and disfigures a statue at the school) are, so far, interesting.
Then there's the baseball. The world of baseball is boring as hell (to me), but seeing it through the starry eyes of the bat boy makes it interesting: It becomes about living your dreams, about the everything-is-possible future instead of about statistics and the infield fly rule. A fair amount of "blue sky," always nice on TV, but not so much actual baseball as to slow down the storyline. (But all that blue sky, in a real stadium, yet: It has to be mondo expensive. Or else they're CGI'ing all the extras -- also expensive.)
The real question: Is there enough here to make it to 100 episodes? That's not clear yet. They've already blown through two of the obvious topics -- steroids and bat-corking -- and I sure can't come up with a long list of other "edgy" subject matter for them to cover. The character dynamics are there to make it possible, though, if they go deep enough. (And it's amazing how very hard it is to come up with that kind of character dynamics -- one of the reasons networks often look to feature writers, who are used to facing the blank page and to creating characters, to write pilots, rather than to TV writers, who often spend more time putting clever dialogue into the mouths of already-existing characters.)
At any event, I really enjoyed the show. It's sort of nice to have a new *scripted* show to watch -- it's embarrassing, as a screenwriter, to watch more reality TV than scripted TV, but frankly, other than The West Wing and Joan of Arcadia, there's not much on that's well-written or compelling enough to get me to watch every week.
Clubhouse could be worth coming back to every week. (As could Lost, which I'll blog about momentarily.) I'm not sure it's gonna hit it out of the park every time, but it feels like a solid double is something we can certainly expect. And these days, that's pretty good.
CBS, 9:00 p.m. Tuesdays. I don't know how many innings it'll last, but give it a try.
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