Look at this fucking procrastinator.

So some advice came back to haunt me as I sat tonight with five browser windows and my script open on my desktop. My script left untouched, I was losing hours going from Facebook to Look at This Fucking Hipster. And I believe I wrote exactly two scenes. Hmph.

The advice? There's not a lot that will get done by simply sitting in front of the computer. I recall the good old days when I would write everything down on notebooks before I even turned the computer on. Now I complain that my job is unfulfilling, get home, fire up the laptop and sit on Facebook for three hours before watching a DVD I've watched a million times. Oh, but I've tried to get a job in my field (searching for jobs on Seek that require at least 2 years experience once a few months ago). I've made steps but I lack the motivation required to actually do this. I need to shake myself out of this ridiculous behaviour. I've become so lazy I hurt my back sleeping.

I'm hoping that even though this constitutes sitting in front of my computer, and that blogging must be done ironically, that keeping up this whole writing thing will be a motivation. With that in mind, here are some things I've tried to work on, or have discovered recently.

Runaways Review
This was supposed to be a collaboration, but, well, things get in the way, innit? Here's what I have so far:

“Their music is that raw energy that you feel when you're 15 and you're sort of coming into your body. You realise that you have a body, and people are paying attention to you, looking at you. The Runaways' lyrics are very primal. And then all of a sudden you're pushed in front of all these men that are going wild for you. That's what I was trying to capture: all those crazy feelings that they had.”
-- Floria Sigismundi

“Somebody's writing a screenplay from your book and you think to yourself, Wait, was my story not good enough for you? But I think all in all she's accomplished something interesting.”
-- Cherie Currie

Runaway – noun.

1.A person who runs away; a fugitive; deserter.
2.A horse or team that has broken away from control.
3.The act of running away.
4.A decisive or easy victory
5.A young person, esp. a teenager, who has run away from home.

Singer, author and artist Cherie Currie was just 15 years old when she took her place as frontwoman of arguably the first all-girl punk rock band The Runaways. Though her stint would be short, it is probably the most memorable. While this could have been yet another story of a young life extinguished by the lure of sex, drugs and rock and roll, it's both refreshing and comforting to know that not only would Currie live to tell the tale, she would write the book on which Director Floria Sigismundi's feature debut The Runaways is based.

The story centres on the forming of the band but is essentially the story of the relationship of Currie and guitarist and founding member Joan Jett. Jett, born Joan Larkin, would form the band with drummer Sandy West with considerable help from eccentric novelty and pop record producer Kym Fowley. If Fowley's declarations to the media are to be believed, The Runaways may seem more Spice Girls than Sex Pistols, but he is proof that sometimes, you should never let the truth get in the way of a good story.

While Currie may think that Sigismundi has taken liberties with her story, telling Elle magazine that it initially made her question Sigismundi's abilities as a director, the story of Currie and Jett's relationship has been expertly handled. The Runaways is more than a biopic – it's a coming of age story and an exploration of young female sexuality against a musical backdrop. Currie's journey in the film speaks volumes for any teenage girl and for every woman who remembers the feeling of freedom and perceived invincibility that comes along with growing up and opening yourself up to new experiences. Everyone has had a friend at some point in their lives who has helped them forge an identity free from the constraints of family and Joan represents this for Cherie.

Sigismundi's experience as a music video director has served her well, bringing these girls and their stories to life against a rock and roll palette – from the opening image of the blood of Cherie's first period to the bright magenta of Joan's blazer at the film's end, the film is saturated with the colours of rock and roll; black, red, white, pink, and silver. Her recreations of some of the band's most memorable moments, such as Cherie's performance of Cherry Bomb in lingerie in Japan perfectly captures the raw energy of the band and Currie's stage presence.

Without resorting to cliché, it seems the role of Cherie Currie is the role Dakota Fanning was born to play. At 15, she is the same age that Currie was when she joined the band, and no doubt is used to the experience of growing up publicly.

Jett recalls hearing tapes of Kristen Stewart performing some of the Runaways' tracks for the film:

“Early on, they sent me a test recording of a song called 'I Love Playing With Fire' that I in the Runaways, and all I could hear was me on the track. And I'm like, You have to send me another one with Kristen's voice on it – I didn't hear her...And they're like, No, it is Kristen. She had mastered my inflections, how hard I would hit words, every aspect of how I'd the sing the song.”

Not really sure how to finish this, but I'm hoping to some day, perhaps when the film is released on DVD. Sigh. I think I was going to talk about the costumes and make-up, you know, cover that whole mise-en-scene thing in depth that audiences get real excited about and shit.

Quotes were sourced from the following:

Durbin, K 'The Runaways' Elle.com, http://www.elle.com/Pop-Culture/Movies-TV-Music-Books/The-Runaways, accessed ‎4 ‎August ‎2010.

Easy Riders, Raging Bulls by Peter Biskind

I was given this book by a friend for my birthday, and have been obsessed. It made me nostalgic for the American New Wave, for though I wasn't even born when it died, I studied films from the period and fell in love with the directors involved. Well, obviously not Spielberg and Lucas. Pft. I read an article by the writers of Bonnie and Clyde and wished I'd been there, wish I could write something that helped rewrite the rules of the Classical Hollywood Style.

Reading about filmmakers who were as nerdy about film as I am served to remind me how much I love writing about film and how it's so much more than just watching film and thinking it's good or bad, but about looking into that screen and trying to figure out why it makes me feel sad, or happy, or inspired. Not only that, but the sociological investigation form by that particular shot, or lighting setup, or gesture.

And sick of that look (the raised eyebrow, the open gaping mouth) that greets me whenever I reveal that I've never seen The Godfather, I finally watched, erm, the Godfather. And I must say, it deserves that look of incomprehension when someone who loves film reveals they haven't seen it. I now own that look.

I know that it seems proof of the kind of filmmaking Coppola wanted to avoid, or never saw himself making, but it's proof of his brilliance. It's proof of his faith in actors, and a willingness to allow composition to come to the fore. The contrast between the wedding and Don Corleone's business dealings, portrayed almost entirely through lighting (and that stray cat of Brando's - genius) was incredible. The constant struggle between business, family and tradition is played out within every scene. Suspense is built up through an economic use of sound, which made me jump like a little kid when Sonny is gunned down on his way to beat the living shit (again) out of Connie's deadbeat husband.

That feeling of frustration as history and perhaps mistakes are repeated is revealed in some incredibly powerful scenes - the relationship between Kay and Michael serves the primary function of revealing how close Michael is to the edge - Kay tries to bring him into the new world, but fails several times. Michael falls into the darkness, which makes the final scene chilling. It's also my favourite. The simplicity of the final shots, the last line ("Don") leaves you just...really fucking impressed. I cannot believe I have gone this long without experiencing that film. Luckily I had Taxi Driver to tide me over.

It's another film to add to my list of films that seem to be a history of American masculinity. What else is a girl to do?

PhD? MPhil? Nothing?

Ok, so this is how I summed up what I'm interested in researching in a recent email:

At this stage with my research I'm interested in the relationship between the screen and the spectator and the experience of watching a film, particularly with horror. There are some theories about bodily responses to film and I'm interested in how that works with horror and violent films, particularly because there's an argument for censorship that implies a really close relationship between the screen and the spectator and I want to investigate that idea (and hopefully not end up giving their argument more support - it's more about 'is it a genuine fear that there's such a direct relationship and this is where this argument stems from?'). Also, historically there's been talk of a gendered viewing experience and I want to know whether that's still relevant, and anyway, it probably sounds stupid and boring on paper. If you get me started talking or writing about it I'll never stop!

I have no idea if someone's written about this already (most definitely) haven't researched it at all for the last 6 years (lazy. well, stuck in Communication Studies hell, which as we all know is where bad people go when we die), but talked about it nonstop (procrastinator), but I guess we'll just see. Just wait and see...

Actually, no! I'll do and not wait and see!!! More exclamation marks to suggest how emphatic I am being!!!! I'm going to go laugh at some hipsters now.