Brotherman by name Brotherman by nature

Today, I'm going to talk about a special short film project that I am working on with my friend Thomas aka Brotherman.

When I first started writing scripts it initially seemed to me that the film industry was like a vault on lockdown, with an increasing number of production companies not accepting unsolicited material. I wanted to make a film about a struggling artist to reflect how I felt at the time.

Brotherman is a hiphop artist, the beat the canvass that he paints his masterpieces on. I've been a fan for a long time and it pains me not to see him as a household name. This man is so comfortable with a mic and the English language, I wouldn't be surprised if he was born with a microphone in one hand and a dictionary in the other. Music is meant to inspire and that's what he does with his intelligent and conscious outlook on life. Even if he had a labotomy and had half his brain removed, he would be able to produce music with more substance then most of what is in chart music today.

Anyways, I didn't personally know Thomas, but I knew he'd be perfect for this film idea. I contacted him via email and he was interested and after exchanging a few ideas back and forth, I went up to London, where he lives to meet him. For me, as a fan it was kind of surreal when I first met him and before I knew it 12 hours of chatting and drinking a few beers had past. By 3 in the morning we still hadn't written anything. But we had it all there from various things we had talked about and I learnt a lot about his life and his music which made it really easy to get a rough storyline together and talk about what scenes we wanted to include.

We need to get another writing session done, which hopefully we'll do over the christmas break, then as soon as I am finished with my major uni projects, we will start filming. We aim to do it with a zero budget and by calling in a few favours from friends.

I'm really positive that if we nail the idea correctly, the film will be good. Really good. I hope it will also open doors for the both of us and that Brotherman will get the publicity for his music that he deserves.

I'll keep you posted.

Griffithisms

Griffithisms is a section I've decided to dedicate to things that members of my family may say or do.

I was thinking about something my sister Julia said to me recently and couldn't help but laugh so it would be a shame if they go un heard.

Julia: "I'm thinking of changing my gym."

Me: "Why's that then? Don't you like it there?"

Julia: (looking at me with a concerned look) "I don't know where it is..."

Classic Julia. That's why I love her.

More to come people.

Just another day

So, this morning I promised to give my housemate Majid a lift to town. I dropped him off but was running late for a guest lecture with an agent at my uni. I really didn't want to arrive late for this, so rather than driving back home and walking into uni. I thought I would try and get into the car park right next to my building. I thought the best way would be to pretend to be a guest lecturer so I could get past the Car Park Security, also known as the Gustapo of car parking...actually I just made that up (I tried to park there before and couldn't get through.).

I stopped at the barrier where the man in the fluorescent jacket was waiting, watching me with eyes which said to me, You can't park here, son! "Hi, I have a guest lecture today" (Not technically lying) The man looked at me "what's the name?". I was wondering wheter to use an alias or whether to use the name of the guest lecturer I was going to see, but I figured he was already there "Uh...John..Griffith" I said my surname really quickly in an attempt to fool the man. Hoping he'd be too embarrassed to ask me to repeat it. He said nothing as he checked the list on his clipboard "it's not here". What else was I expecting? I was tempted to fold my hand and reverse my car the hell out of there. For some reason I decided to stay in character "It's probably because I'm helping out a colleague today, I was only asked yesterday".

He asked me the name of my colleague. I made one up, then he said "maybe you're on the list at the front gate. Let me radio through - What was your name again?" I thought he was on to me. After all what kind of guest lecturer only has two plastic hubcaps on their car?!

I told him my name again, increasing the delivery of my surname. He did his radio voice thing (Sierra, Foxtrot) then said "Is there a John Griffin on the list". I was thinking this is it - he knows I'm a liar! He knows and he's going to kill me!" then without hesitation a reply came: "Yes!". I couldn't believe it, He made me a pass and through the gate I went. "I am literally the smartest man alive!" is what I told myself.

It's the little victories!! Anyway John Griffin, if you so happen to be reading this and are wondering why the hell the security would not let you park your car today or when you arrived they told you that you are already there, I am truly sorry for that. Really, I am.

Post Festival Blues.

Post Festival Blues is something that delegates and volunteers of the London Screenwriters' Festival will experience. Symptoms include; thinking everyone around you is a screenwriter or producer, refusal to take off the name badge, or in my case, trying to purchase food in Asda using my volunteer swipe card.

The Screenwriters' Festival has meant a lot to me ever since I first got involved in 2007 where it was originally set in Cheltenham. In 2009 I was told there will not be another one...absolutely gutted. But then the Screenwriter knights in shining armour; David Chamberlain and Chris Jones set up the London Screenwriters' Festival. They achieved an incredible amount in just 16 weeks. So big thanks to them.

There is nothing like being a volunteer at the festival. The days are long and by the last day physical and emotional exhaustion sets in...but it is worth every second. The team that you get working at the festival are pretty much like an instant family...it's almost surreal how close everyone becomes in the space of a few days. I think it's a mixture of being in it together and the passion we all have for the film industry (the underlying talent and potential is incredible). The only thing I can compare it too, is when I went back packing in Australia and how I made instant bonds with room mates.

This year my job was to meet and greet speakers and to look after the green room...A big thank you to Phoebe Gibson, our volunteer co-ordinator, for giving me such a great opportunity to meet some fascinating and successful people. what a lovely and inspiring bunch, the speakers truly were. Maybe some of their success will rub off on me..hey.

This year for some reason I didn't sort out any accommodation in advance, thinking it would be interesting to see what happened once I got to the festival. So anyways, we had to be at Regents park college for 9am on the Thursday. I decided to get the 5am coach from Southampton so I could attend a close friends party in town. It's the first time I've ever been out clubbing with a suitcase. Anyways after convincing the bouncer that I was not the DJ for that evening...I got in. I got to the bar and my good friends Matt, Luke and Clare started to get the rounds in...the drinks began to flow. The next thing I remember is being on the dance floor making some moves with my wheeley suitcase and at one point a few people began to circle my suitcase like it was a some kind of ritual dance. Somehow, I found myself at the coach station at 5am but it was the wrong damn station. so £12 more later I was on my coach ride to London.

After a few coffee's and sneaking in the back way, I got to Regents park college, Which is what I imagine an American high school to be like. I met the festival team for this year and it's always nice to see some familiar faces. As soon as I mentioned I wasn't sure where I was staying, I was offered a sofa to sleep on by the lovely Aideen...Thank you.

After bonding with the new volunteers while stuffing the welcome packs with endless amounts of leaflets, we toured the venue, which really is a stunning place.

The first day is always the most hectic as all the delegates come into register and no one knows where any of the rooms are. By day 2 everyone pretty much knows the score. The atmosphere is always remarkable; writers making friends, learning from other peoples experiences. Everyone is so friendly and passionate about screenwriting and the film industry.

I didn't get to see many sessions this year (Luckily they are all filmed) because I was always busy taking care of something, but the experience and networking opportunities are pretty much priceless. Where I was looking after speakers and showing them around the venue it gives me the opportunity to talk to the speakers, usually about anything and everything. It's always nice when you are recognised from the year before by speakers and delegates, it's like they are old friends that I haven't seen in a while.

The last day is always the worst...caffeine and sugar is necessary for survival, but that's not why it's the worst...It's because the day after, the festival is going to be over and it's back to reality. The general feeling is...If I wasn't going to collapse of exhaustion, I wish this could go on for ever and ever and ever and...well you get the point. And saying goodbye to my new found family isn't that much fun either.

The nature of goodbyes is that you never say what you want to say to the amazing people you have met and it always ends up being rushed. Particularly if you are running late for your coach back home...No way was I buying another ticket!...No way! Luckily I had fellow volunteers and course mates Sal and Matthieus with me, as we were all heading back to Bournemouth for Monday morning lectures. We made a quick stop at Burger King...well we thought it was going to be quick and before we knew it we had 10 minutes till our coach was due to leave. So we began to ran. I was running with a bag and my trusty old wheeley suitcase in one hand and my drink in the other...I ditched the drink as it was impossible to run with one arm holding my drink steady and the other flagging behind. Matthieus also had two bags and a wheeley suitcase...it was neck and neck between us. Steaming up ahead was Sal with her bag over her shoulder and the precious Burger King in her hands...The clock was ticking...we made it just in time...phew! On the journey home we talked about the festival over our greasy snacks before all falling asleep from exhaustion.

I can't wait for next year.

So to sum up, if you're a screenwriter or even if you're thinking about it, please do attend the festival as a delegate or as a volunteer...you won't regret it!

Sorry for the neglect.

Okay, so it's not been the best start to a blog in history. The truth is I have been on a top secret assignment and even saying this is probably too much...It's got nothing to do with forgetting that I set up a blog, forgetting the password, or laziness. I'm glad to see that what I wrote about at the start of the year is still relevant. This morning I hit my head on the wall while in bed. I still feel strongly about the padded walls.

I'm going to take it more seriously from now on and I will talk about my progression as a screenwriter, funny things that happen in my day to day life, as well as anything else I find inspiring or interesting.

For me to fill you in on everything that has happened over the last few months would be crazy so I'll give you a little taster on something that still haunts me to this day....One afternoon I was getting ready for work, grabbed my car keys and headed for the door. When I opened it, I saw at what I first thought to be a lost blind girl standing on the doorstep (it turned out she just had a wonky eye). She hadn't rang the doorbell or anything, it was quite a shock to see her there. Thinking she was in trouble I said "Hey...are you okay? Are you lost?" she said "I'm here to view the house." She continued to stare at me not saying anything else (At least I think she was looking at me, it was hard to tell). My Landlord had forgot to tell me that someone was coming. Anyways, after an uncomfortable silence, I told her that I was just on my way to work but she could wait inside for the landlord. She simply said "It's okay, I'll just stand here"."uh...okay" So I sidestepped the girl (she didn't move), closed the door, got in my car and left. I have no idea how long she stayed there for...If you live in Bournemouth, watch out for her! She could be waiting to view your house as you read this!!!

Till the next one x

P.S If anyone has any tips about the blogging world please send them my way. Thanking you.

The reason for my blog

Hello blogging world! This is my first attempt at writing a blog – this will be interesting. So, I decided to start writing this blog because I always get asked “what goes on inside your head?” or “ I’d love to be inside your head for a day!”.

The reason people ask me these questions is because of the things that escape my mouth. A standard situation for me goes something like this…Picture a table or room full of people, deep in intellectual discussion, you may notice there is some weird little creature deep in thought not saying much…yep that’s me. I won’t even be listening to the conversation (due to my low attention span) then I will blurt out the first thing that comes to my head regardless of whether its related or appropriate to the current topic of conversation or social situation. This usually results in a moment of silence while everyone mulls over the words. Then they all look at me for a moment and begin to wonder whether I have padded walls in my bedroom or if I am out on day release. The answer to both of those is no. However, going back to padded walls, they do sound tempting. I imagine it would be like living inside a bouncy castle – why let the mentally insane have all the fun, that’s what I say anyway! Not only the bouncy castle thing but… no more smashing my face on the wall when I accidentally try to get out the wrong side of my bed…Instead nothing but padded bliss for my sleepy face.

Okay so moving on from the padded walls and back to the original point of the blog…My mind sometimes digresses, you see.

So going back to the question “what goes on inside your head?” for many years there has been much speculation. A friend of mine Neil Young (Coincidence) believes there is a la la la la elevator esk kind of music constantly playing. In an ideal world my life would be like the movie Being John Malkovich and people could buy tickets to a secret door that allows them to enter my mind and see the world how I see it. There would be bean bags too…obviously.

Stepping back into reality, I think this blog is the closest thing you’re going to get to Being Johnny G (see what I did there?). So this blog is for you guys and the only way to find the answer to the question of “what goes inside my head?”.

Hope you enjoy.

Johnny x