I know I am a big woman. And thanks to my aunt, who terrorized me with blades all the week, I don't even know how big - the weights broke.
It was first.
Second, I have a very special sense of humor. One good man at one time cried loudly about attachment to bad jokes, but I am a proletarian... In a word, only hardcore.
And thirdly, in two weeks of vacation, I managed to sharpen my hometown, without a cinema, without coffee and coffee, with the only eternal question of all my acquaintances: "Didn't you get married?" Fourth, I am so bored.
It was all prehistory. for the anturage.
There is a woman writing here. He writes with mistakes. I will not tolerate analphabets at all!! I do not accept excuses. None of any.
He writes something like, “Hello! We’re strangers, but from one city, and I’ve seen your photos, and that you’re related to cinema (yes, cinema. From the word “motor”. And my son wants to be a director, will you help him?”
Imagine all the storm of emotions reflected on my face. Will I help? by GM. I haven’t tried, but let’s.
I answer that I am always ready to help with a good word, indeed, I am surprised that this boy himself does not write to me, because it is not easy for me to communicate with my mother. However, I can provide her with a list of films and literature - to pass on to the child.
Mother rejects the list and disappears.
I received a request from a child’s friend. The boy is nineteen years old. Fragile, judging by the photo, blonde.
“Hello, I am Dima and I want to be a director.”
I, obviously, write on this self-assured statement that directing is not just sitting in a chair, drinking coffee and saying "We started" (and then little sho he thinks there). And not just arranging castings, choosing the most stunning blonde, for example. Direction (I don't get into creativity because I still don't understand this very creative component and what a double is different from the other one) - is the ability to make a team of half a hundred, at least, a person who wants to eat/sleep/bath/at the hotel/home/smoke/still sleep/drink/go to the buffet/flirt with the operator/marry, - the ability to make this crowd - be a team, and, hell, do as you want. Making your movie.
The director is Columbus, who wants to discover America. The team wants to go home (Fellini).
The boy replied that he understood and agreed and - is it difficult to enter the VGIC?
I wrote it is difficult. If it is from my city, it is of course expensive. And most likely meaningless. Especially in his young age.
I once read Von Herzog’s book, and he writes there that a man can only be a director – having come to this profession through many others. Half the world. At least half the world.
When there is something to tell.
I wrote what to watch and read.
The boy replied that he did not like to read. at all. and categorically. Can we do anything without it?
I wrote: I cannot. Books form the imagination. The circle. The Taste. The artistic thinking...
The boy assured him that his mind was fine.
I was so upset by the mistakes in his messages that I had difficulty staying within the normative vocabulary.
I wrote to him, “I am a guy. Ordinary staff. You are not with me, you are with another specialist.”
But since I was the only one who knew him from, so to speak, the cinema, he continued to terrorize with the question: how does he want to become a director?
I wrote something about the Jameson Shoot contest. Something about - record on the phone, put it on YouTube. Something about - you don't want to read - arrange a video rental, like Tarantino. Go to the cinema and I’ll help.
But the boy did not want to be a worker. I wanted everything immediately. And I broke my shoulder with the vision of myself in the domestic directory.
Spring, I thought, was an exacerbation.
They have these... creative natures.”
The final, quite logical, came today.
He, that is, a boy, met me on the street.
It’s a small town and I’m alone in it in a bright yellow jacket.
I am very visible.
Since the weights broke - especially.
He approached and said:
Hi to you. I wrote to you, I am Dima.
and smoke. I can’t help you with anything but advice. Everything I knew and could offer, I wrote.
and yes? But there are probably ways...
Yes, I agreed to it. You don’t want to read, you don’t want to work. There is one way...
Which one? He has revived.
I looked around, approached and said quietly:
“Through the bed,” she whispered, “let’s go.

Well, apparently, he didn’t really want to be a director...

by peopletalk.ru