Celluloid Villains and Heroes

One lasting credo for artists of all stripes, be they authors, musicians, sculptors, filmmakers, painters, graphic designers, dancers, athletes (yes they are artists too) or anyone attempting to create something out of nothing, is to know when to stop. That innate ability, most often learned the hard way, through experience, that gleefully announces that the project is complete. It is just so. Done. Needs no more ornamentation, polishing or anything else. Walk away. You have given it life, from inspiration to reality, now let it go, allow it the freedom to fly away. It is after all your baby, and it now has an identity of its own. Go have a ceremonial cigar and a sip of champagne, take five. 

With this golden rule etched onto the marble slab of my consciousness, we are shooting the closing sequence tonight at sunset. I know, I know. Please forgive as I stand guilty - with explanation. 

I have had the video, Cardio Cinema III, more or less in the can for a couple of weeks now. Since the event was infamously cancelled, the adrenalin rush relentlessly pushing the project towards completion turned into a fairly normal flow of plasma. I have gone back in twice to add a touch of sweetening and to apply a more delicate transitional segue where glaringly needed, and -this was the fun part - slapping on the cans, sitting back in the big leather chair with one bad roller, and watching - as objectively as possible - the sixty minutes from start to finish. Each time I have found it, well, pretty dang decent. It is fun, cracking with energy and the paper-thin plot forgiven after all has been said, done, filmed and edited. 

I was working the closing credits last night, tweaking the title crawl, synching it with the ending tune, Celluloid Heroes by Ray Davies and The Kinks, when I get this vision of what ‘could be’. Argggh. I can let it be and compromise the importance and potential of the closing scene - and that would be fine - or I can try the vision and see what it looks like. Take a chance, roll the dice, bet on the dark-horse long-shot. All it will cost me is one more shoot, on the beach at sunset with a bon-fire as lighting. Maybe an hour's worth of production time for the gamble of leaving the audience with something very special. 

This is a no-brainer despite the long-standing ‘rule’ quoted in the opening. I just invited my neighbors to ‘star’ in this scene but they are busy with a baby shower, meaning that I will once again have to be both in front of and behind the camera for this important cinematic denouncement. I should have the acting chops to pull it off as all it requires is to stand behind the fire and look skyward as the sun sets over the sound and into the Olympic Mountains. Because…..

…..I wish my life was a non-stop Hollywood movie show. A fantasy world of celluloid villains and heroes. Because celluloid heroes never feel any pain. And celluloid heroes never really die.