Because FUCK film, that's why.
As a youngling there was nothing I wanted more than to be involved in making movies.
That may be a lie. I probably would have accepted life as a mermaid or the gift of my very own personal unicorn at some point... But at least by fifth grade and my first viewing of "Gone With The Wind," I knew that set life was the life for me.
What are you in fifth grade? Like, 12? So I guess by 12 I knew that magic - at least the mermaid and unicorn kind - wasn't real. But movie magic sure as hell was, and I wanted to do it.
You know when Blanche DuBois says,"I don't want realism. I want magic! Yes, yes, magic!"?
Welp, that was me.
And for those of you astute enough to be counting, that's my second Vivien Leigh reference. For those even astuter (or just more well-versed in Erin's Inspiration Trivia), you'll know that Lady Olivier is the nail in my proverbial I-wanna-make-movies coffin.
But The Vivling isn't why I am writing this post.
Game of Thrones, ladies and gentlemen.
So I am new to this bandwagon.
Don't get me wrong, I tried to jump on when everyone else did, but those bastards killed a dire wolf in episode two and that pretty much killed me, so I couldn't go on for a few years.
But now, at the insistence of my brother, Hack McNaggins, I've decided to give the series another go.
And it's awesome.
The writing is (usually) superb, the characters well-defined and well-acted, the sets and special effects immaculate, and if the DPs aren't award winners they sure as fuck should be.
What I am saying is, I am really enjoying the show.
But that's not why I am writing either...
Remember at the beginning of this ramble when I said, "Fuck film"?
Those who know the Vivien facts also likely know the film facts - that I gave it up a few years ago. That the fake people (there's another vulgar "f" word for you), the backstabbing, the insecurity... I just couldn't take the people or the tripe.
I've always been a writer. Even back to my mermaid days - the days before GWTW and my obsession with film - I was addicted to a good story and I knew I wanted to write one.
Or one thousand.
But, like Margaret Mitchell, I figured I could settle for one.
That's about as arrogant as I get, folks.
It makes me laugh.
To think I would "settle" for a story like "Gone With The Wind."
I must be out of my damned mind.
Anyway, story was and remains important to me.
And I wanted to get involved in film to tell stories.
A naive purist, I thought filmmaking was about making art - telling a poignant story in the most artistic way possible.
Folks on sets weren't "crew", but "artisans." Michelangelos bringing the plot points to life. Builders of worlds. Makers of dreams.
I wanted to do that.
So I studied and practiced. I performed. I became an apprentice at a professional theater company. I got an agent. I got a Master's Degree in film.
And I got disillusioned.
My experiences on professional sets were not movie magic.
More often, they were exercises in frustration.
I've gotten into the intricacies of those frustrations in other posts, but the Cliff's Notes version is that, like Blanche, I don't want reality. Reality bites. I want magic. And you don't get magic from snipey tripe. You just don't.
Anyway - Game of Thrones.
So, I'm into it, and I am feeling the magic.
I know, I know, days on set are likely long and arduous and there are fights.
It's real - dammit all.
But I am presently watching the Making of Game of Thrones.
It's G.O.T. from the vantage of the magic makers - the cinematographers, the prosthetics masters, the costumers, the set designers, the CGI folks...
THIS, ladies and gentlemen, is where the magic happens.
The glory typically goes to the actors - the folks whose faces you know and recognize.
And they play their parts - double entendre intended.
But I find myself really drawn to those folks behind the scenes. (Again, double entendre intended).
For these folks, the art lives. And the art is the driver.
Watching these folks in their workshops inspires me.
It reminds me of why I pursued film in the first place.
And I miss it.
Finally, years later, I miss film.
I never thought I would.
I never thought the film flame would flicker in me again.
But it has, and it does.
And I am thankful. Thankful in a way I don't really understand as yet.
I just know I like the feeling.
Thank you, behind-the-scenes artisans.
You've allowed "film" to rejoin the other 4-letter "f" word in returning to my good graces.
Maybe one of these days I will make some more fucking films!