Click here to view the embedded video.

At the time I thought it was hilarious. Just as you don’t need to know physics to find Coyote and Roadrunner funny, so too I didn’t need to know the social commentary it delivered. President Lincoln at an employment agency! What a gas!

I hadn’t seen this commercial since it originally aired. When I watched it for the first time last week, I was struck by its similarities to my first short film, 8 1/2 x 11, made in 1998. Click here to watch it. (By the way, if you’re a fan of a certain medical drama that airs on ABC, you may recognize a certain Meredith Grey.)

The idea for 8 1/2 x 11 came to me one humid summer evening. I had spent the day going on job interviews — I think three or four of them — and that night, in the shower, I tried to scrub them off me. I couldn’t. They ran through my head, but in a strange way; they had merged into one mega-interview that I couldn’t separate. I thought that was kind of funny, so I wrote a short script. When I showed it to my friend RM he suggested I direct it. I had written screenplays, but never thought of directing a film before. One thing led to another and I wound up directing and co-producing the film. You have RM to blame. And whoever handed me that Orangina on the stifling set, but that’s another story.

Here’s a screenshot from the commercial–Lincoln’s hands fidget with his hat.

Here are a couple of storyboard panels. We shot the hands but never used it in the film. I’ve put boxes around the relevant notes on the right panel.

Here’s another screenshot from the commercial.

A messy eater.

Here’s a screenshot from 8 1/2 x 11, featuring the amazing actor, Paul Albe.

A messy eater.

I didn’t have the commercial from 25 years earlier in mind when I wrote or storyboarded, nor when we shot or edited the film. I wasn’t thinking “homage.” And yet, there’s no denying that this commercial made an impression and was somewhere in my consciousness. After all, I still remember it.

I mention this because I am always struck by how things stay with us. You really never know what that thing will be. It can be a trivial thing, like a commercial that influences how a short film is shot, or a significant thing, like a beautiful voice that transfixes you and steers you to your life’s work, or a history tidbit learned in grammar school that leads you to make a documentary 40-odd years later.

Do you have a similar story you’d like to share? Something from your youth that you’re still carrying around? I’d love to hear it.

[cross-posted on extracriticum.com]

I.G. took advantage of this blog’s stellar feature, Ask the Filmmaker. Why don’t you?

Dear Filmmaker,

I think I read somewhere that when you started interviewing people, you recorded those interviews audio only. Is that right? Do you listen to that now and wish you had shot those interviews?

Good luck with the film.

I.G.

Hi, I.G.

Thanks for the warm wishes and the question.

You must have read What Was I Thinking? The first interview I did with Paolo Soleri I recorded audio only on a broadcast-quality digital audio recorder, and yes, now I do wish I had used my camera. I wish I had captured one exchange between Soleri and me in particular. To put it in context, I asked him what was the projected population of the original plans for Arcosanti. Here it is:

But, and this is a huge point, I’m pretty sure this exchange would not have happened as it did if the camera were in the room. Soleri doesn’t like cameras and he was obviously more at ease when we spoke with just the audio recorder running. So I take some solace in the knowledge that the joking that occurs in this audio wouldn’t have happened on video.

This ease was a big reason I initially wanted to record the interviews audio only. But the unease created by cameras can also lead to interesting moments, just watch any Werner Herzog documentary and you’ll see what I mean. He’s a master at letting the camera roll after a subject has answered a question. If you let people sit in silence after they’ve given an answer (especially to a question they’ve answered a million times), they will often elaborate on that answer in a fresh way, and sometimes you get something special.

Sorry I.G., got a little sidetracked there. Yes, sometimes I do regret not shooting that first interview.

There never was a horse that couldn’t be rode, there never was a cowboy that couldn’t be throw’d.

I’m not sure what this has to do with A Life’s Work, but I wrote the quote down when I saw it and it seemed to say something to me about the film. But what?

Any ideas?

But when I became aware of Robert Darden and the Black Gospel Music Restoration Project, I knew I had found the right historian/archivist/superfan. For many reasons, not the least of which was the music.

So what does gospel music “mean” to me, a lapsed-Catholic/agnostic? What does it do for me?

I could go on and on, but instead I’m going to turn to the liner notes of Fire In My Bones (Tompkins Square), written by Mike McGonigal, who put together that anthology as well as the sequel, This May Be My Last Time Singing. The last sentence sums it all up.

That’s why.

She asked if she could hear the song. I was prepared; I had it on my iPod.

Here it is, sung by the Clark Sister.

Click here to view the embedded video.

She listened through the first chorus and removed the ear buds. “It’s a great song. But I think it might be too on the nose,” she said.

I was disappointed with her answer. I fell in love with this song the instant I heard it on Sinner’s Crossroads, the outstanding gospel music radio show on WFMU, and I thought it was perfect for the film. The organ, their voices, this song destroys me each time I hear it.

But I didn’t argue with her or dismiss her comment. Why? Because the second she said what she did, I knew she was right.

I learned a lesson: There is such a thing as being too on the nose, in a sense, being too perfect. If I were making a film about a couple of dysfunctional lovers, and there was a scene of them driving in the car and arguing, I wouldn’t have Love Is Strange by Mickey and Sylvia playing on the radio. It’s kind of too easy.

And I was reminded of another lesson: It’s important to listen to people.

Want to share a lesson you learned or were reminded of? I’m all eyes.

Here's an actual email from a real cinematographer!

And here’s the video clip in question. Which I shot. Enjoy the banter, which starts about 30 seconds in.

Click here to view the embedded video.

For more about this clip, which I shot, click here. Did I mention I shot it?

Do you keep such things around to bolster your confidence? Please tell me I’m not alone here.

Many many years ago I worked in a record store in Hackensack, NJ with a whole mess of great people, many of whom I’m still in touch with. (Hi Rita, Sam, Bob, Jack, Helen, and Wayne.) Though it was a chain store and not an independently owned shop, it was still very High Fidelity. Oh, the lists…

A certain kind of person works in a record store, then and now. Then the customers ran the gamut, from Kenny G. fans to people who couldn’t wait to get the latest Ministry 12″. Now, it seems the only people who visit record stores are more apt to dig for that Ministry 12″. Well, maybe not Ministry.

Certain things have been gained with the digital revolution where music is concerned. But some things have been lost, too. I miss two things. 1) That tactile sense of holding an LP, reading the liner notes, staring at album cover art groovy enough for framing. 2) As the number of record stores continue to dwindle, the face-to-face interaction with other folks interested in music is disappearing. And I think that’s a shame. (Yeah, I know, you can find folks with similar musical tastes online, but it isn’t the same, really, than, you know, leaving your house and talking to someone.)

So, to honor Record Store Day and the interactions that happen in such establishments, I put together the following blog-only clip from footage Wolfgang Held shot at Hyde Park Records in Chicago, when we first met Robert Darden. Mine is the low voice you hear in the beginning, talking about the Redd Foxx LP being displayed above the gospel section, “the sacred and profane in one eyeful.”

Big thanks to Redd Foxx and the wonderful customer for making this pretty special. I hope you like it. And why not celebrate the day by going to your local record store and taking part in the festivities. I understand many of you ditched your turntables, so maybe you can buy a cd while you’re there.

Click here to view the embedded video.

So, what was the last CD/LP/45 you bought? I’ll start. I bought four LPs: Ike and Tina Turner, The Gospel According to Ike and Tina; Solomon Burke, Lord I Need a Miracle Now; Dixie Hummingbirds, Your Good Deeds; and Jackson Sisters, I Believe in Miracles (test pressing).

Click here to view a clip from the documentary, A Life’s Work (work in progress), featuring more footage shot in HPR.

Artist Rita Flores, who was one of my co-workers all those years ago, today coincidentally posted a piece about the joys of record stores on her blog, Through the Lava Lamp.

Screenshot of writer Jim Robbins taking a photograph at Roy's Redwoods.

You can order the book on Amazon. I’m reading it now (the perks of being a friend and a blogger, you get stuff early!) and I can tell you it’s worth picking up. And not just because I’m mentioned on page 90.

And if you’re eagle-eyed, you can spot the camera-totting, camera-shy Robbins in the Redwoods section below. Don’t blink or you’ll miss him.

Click here to view the embedded video.

That's Jim in the tree.

Well click the link and check it out. You may be surprised to learn (or re-learn) all the good things trees do for the planet and its inhabitants. I re-learned that aspirin comes to us thanks to willow trees. I knew there was a reason it was my favorite tree.

Jim ends the piece with one of my favorite quotes.

“When is the best time to plant a tree? Twenty years ago. The second-best time? Today.”

Jim Robbins’ book, The Man Who Planted Trees: Lost Groves, Champion Trees, and an Urgent Plan to Save the Planet, will hit books stores on April 17. You can pre-order it on Amazon.