Centigrade

THE RIDGE

2008-05-10T18:55:02Z

It's been well over a year since Madison Graie suggested we create CENTIGRADE. Seventeen years since I first wrote it. And last night was one of those weird but wonderful 'full circle' moments in a lifetime of people, places and films. The Directors Guild of Canada screened the (2007) Kick Start films at the Ridge theatre last night. And it was exactly one year ago that Madison and I sat in the very same theatre and watched those who had won the previous year. Five films in all. And some of them were damn good. I was proud to be there. And Madison and I shared more than one unspoken wink. We made it. We actually did it. We lived to tell the tale. We were proud. Taking a 'thought' and manifesting a tangible, three dimensional reality from it is a pretty nifty trick. You are literally changing the world, albeit in a small way, but you are. You are not simply drifting through a life without consequence. Existing in the wake of others. Instead, you are simultaneously piloting and building a ship that is going to carry you to places that don't even exist yet. There are few markers along the way and with little more than faith keeping you afloat it can get very scary. It's a long, surreal and often lonely journey that will profoundly change how you see the world. People are beginning to come up to Madison and I to shake our hands. Respected people. People we've never met before (but know by reputation). Actors, Producers, Cinematographers. Some of the best in the business. They see something different in what we've done and I think they find it refreshing. Word is beginning to spread. The film has qualified for an Academy Award and in an ocean of cinematic indifference, that's a hard thing to ignore. And so, we stood a little taller last night. A year ago we were sitting in the front row of the Ridge Theatre asking questions. Last night we were answering them. A difference of ten feet and a gallon of blood. But we did it. We made it to the other side. We earned our fifteen minutes. (Or, should I say 17 minutes, 11 seconds.) So, I think we're going to enjoy a bit of fruit. Have a little fun. God knows it won't last forever. Soon we'll be setting up shop again, ready to tackle the next big storm. Today the harbor's calm and welcoming, but I can feel a little wind kicking up. Might be time to pull out the old pilots cap and carpenters hammer again. A little scary, but that's life. If you're going to set out for new lands, sometimes you have to lose sight of the shore for a very long time.

A LITTLE BIT OF PRESS

2008-05-08T01:39:35Z

Hey everyone. Nice little article if interested. Cut and paste. Thanks. C. http://communities.canada.com/theprovince/blogs/reelman/default.aspx

ICE CUBE GENIUS

2008-04-30T06:55:22Z

Who was the bright light that thought of putting 'ice' in the men's urinal? What, was some waiter scooping cubes into somebody's glass then thought to himself, "Hey, wait! People could melt these with their pee!" And guys, you know you can't just do your business and leave. Oh no. You gotta make a game out of it. You start thinking to yourself, "Hmm... How many cubes can I melt before my pee runs out?" And now, you've become this super hero, "I am Toxic Pee Man!" It's like playin' a game of 'Break The Ice', only with your wang. "If I can just blast through these last two, the whole thing will come crashing down." Anyway. I don't know and I don't care. The guy was a genius. And I'm hoping that he was at least promoted to Assistant Manager.

MOORE FOR THE MONEY

2008-04-29T05:06:25Z

I've always been a big fan of Michael Moore, the filmmaker. From 'Roger and Me', to 'Bowling For Columbine', to 'Farenheight-911'. The guy never ceases to provoke, entertain and to perhaps, enlighten. Granted, the guy has never had a problem completely obliterating the truth, but that's not my point. He is a great filmmaker. AND... to make it all the more important, Moore's films are DOCUMENTARIES. And, in a world of narrative filmmaking, however you stand politically, you have to give the guy even more credit. Therefore, from a 'film-making' stand point. The guy's pretty good. That said, I love filmmaking. I've studied Leni Riefenstahl to a degree that would make most Cambridge professors puke. Does 'that' make me a Nazi? Of course not. Does that make Leni a genius? Christ, yes. No matter where you stand. As a filmmaker... She was incredible. Point? If you have half a brain, then you can separate genius from virtue. Talent, from morality. Moore from the truth and Strauss from a stack of dead Jews. Unfortunately, many of history's greatest artists were pigs. Talented, yes. Inspired...? Absolutely. Geniuses, but certainly not poster children for a better tomorrow. And so, as an independent... I'm forced to think for myself. (And, therefore, criticized by those on both sides.) But... I LOVE film. Check this out. Here is a film that had no script. Nothing other than the voice of it's own insanity. Everything that you 'hear', was recorded by the subjects themselves. No politics, other than that wished for by the subjects themselves. No video, but the video shot... by them. No message, but their own. A message created by scum. Spoken by scum... And (ironically) denounced by the same. Unheard of. Death to those who click. www.themoviefitna.com Oops. Sorry, that's been banned. Try this one. www.themoviefitna.com Oops. Sorry, that one just disappeared too. Keep you posted. C.

THE LITTLE FILM THAT COULD

2008-04-21T18:03:08Z

Not bad. Not bad at all. In addition to having qualified for an Academy Award, the LEO AWARD NOMINATIONS have just come in!! (British Columbia Film Awards.) And I would once again extend my thanks and congratulations to those listed below, and to all the cast, crew and friends that have worked so very hard to create and support this project. Here they are; **7 LEO AWARD NOMINATIONS**! - BEST SHORT DRAMA - Madison Graie, Derrick Garland - Producers BEST DIRECTION - Colin Cunningham BEST CINEMATOGRAPHY - Kevin Hall BEST PICTURE EDITING - Jonathan Eric Tyrrell BEST OVER ALL SOUND - Real Gauvreau BEST MAKE UP - Jayne Dancose BEST PERFORMANCE by a Male - Colin Cunningham And let's not forget; **BEST SHORT AWARD** - Cinequest/**ACADEMY QUALIFIER!!** BEST ACTOR - Method Fest BEST SHORT Nomination - Method Fest BEST EMERGING DIRECTOR Nomination - Vancouver Intl. 'IN COMPETITION' - Montreal Great news! Thanks again everyone! C.

CLUBBED TO DEATH

2008-04-20T17:41:35Z

Why is it that every time I go shopping I have to belong to a club? "Are you a Club Member?" "It's toothpaste." "Yes. Are you a member?" Why the hell can't I just go into a market and buy block of cheese without having to tell the clerk where I live? I don't get it. I mean, is this actually supposed to make me feel 'special' somehow? That I'm now part of an elite group of shoppers? Will it be included in my eulogy? "A member of both Safeway and Savon Drug Marts, Colin took great pride in purchasing deodorants and laundry detergent..." That, and I hate being put on the spot. Shopping is kind of a personal thing to begin with, you know? You're standing there with all this stuff out on display. You just want to get out of there, when... bang. "Member?" Well. Ahh. Don't really know what to say. I actually find myself embarrassed for some strange, ridiculous reason. So, I look away for a second. Only to find that the whole damn line is now staring at me. And I can just see it in their faces. "IS he a member?" "I don't know." "I've never seen him in here before." "Condoms and Dog Food... Hmm." So. Here it is, for the record. I don't want your Petro Points, your Air Miles, your punch card, the free donut or the hat with your stupid filling station logo on it. I don't want to belong to your stupid Club and have one of your stupid Club 'cards' that identifies me as being one of your stupid Club Members. I've got my own Club. It's colors are red, white and blue and I flash my membership in 5's, 10's, and 20's.

A DAY AT THE RACES

2008-04-18T23:38:34Z

OH BAMA!! I think I'm going to join a church that preaches a 'White Value System'. (Kind of like a 'Black Value System' only with half the melanin.) You know, just like the one Obama goes to. A church that tells you to spend your money only at black businesses and to be cautious of those wearing sunscreen. Granted, it sounds pretty stupid and God only knows what other kind of bullshit they'd preach there, but who cares? I'm thinking of running for President. Maybe I'll call it, Church of... 'THE RACE'. Catchy. On second thought, don't want people thinking I'm racist. Hmm. Tell ya what. I'm no idiot. What I'll do is translate the words into Spanish (who doesn't love Spanish?) and instead of calling it THE RACE, I'll call it LA RAZA. Only, jazz it up with some italics and an exclamation point. *LA RAZA!* Sounds way better too. Not as white. Which is good 'cause sheep can't read. I've got a message for all you Browny's, Blacky's, Yellows, Pinks, Half Pinks, Reds, Whites and Off-Whites. Take your 'color' and stick it up your ass. I'm sick of you and your stupid race club. If you're an American, be that and shut up. Stop your bitching. I don't care what color you are. If you're British, be British. Pledge allegiance to that flag and no other. Nobody gives a crap about your stupid ass tint or where you came from. They're too damned busy living their lives. Just be proud of where you are and thank God you've got it so good. And stop thinking that you're somehow 'special' because you're gay. Nobody gives a snot about that either. Sexual preference does not define who you are. Character does. Pride? Christ, if you want to take pride in something DO something worthy of taking pride in. Fucking somebody doesn't count. Neither does jerking off a 7 foot inflatable cock at a parade. That only makes you look like an idiot. You can also take your Sharia Nazi honor killing bullshit and stick that up your ass. We don't rape and murder our women over here because they listen to Madonna. Hell, we don't even execute child murderers anymore. (We would, but the courts let them all go.) Wether you're born or imported, pay some respect to those who died for your privilege of being here. And when you travel to other lands? Be an ambassador, to and from, your host country. Be humble. Respect it's values and culture. Do not spit on the traditions they hold dear. If you're in a Muslim country, please don't parade your tattoo around to show off how liberated you are. It's offensive. And if you're from a Muslim country, please leave your Burka at home. We've had enough slavery over here. Either way, do me a big favor and Shut the f*ck up. The sane people of the world have had enough of you, and your squeaky wheel is beginning to grade on those riding the bus. E pluribus unum

HOLY SH*T!!!!

2008-04-17T19:09:25Z

Well, it's been quite the week down here in the good ol' US of A. Obamas 'change' is starting to look like his Pastor's diaper. Hillary's 'sniper tested' bullet proof vest turned out to be filled with 109 million dollars. Jimmy Carter is getting even closer to his 72 virgins and in a medium as mindnumbingly uncensored as the internet (where you can readily find footage of people being murdered and raped) a little short film called 'FITNA' cannot seem to be found anywhere. (http://www.themoviefitna.com./) Hmmm. What *shall* we talk about? How about the fact that CENTIGRADE has just qualified for an Academy Award!!!! You heard me baby! And I'm sitting here laughing my ass off. Let me say that again. CENTIGRADE has just qualified for an Academy Award. I'm not kidding. We were just informed that we won **BEST SHORT** at the Cinequest Film Festival in San Jose, California!! What does that mean? Well, Cinequest is an **Academy Award** qualifier. Which means if you take a 'Best Film' award at an Academy santioned film festival, then you qualify to submit for a f*cking Oscar!!!! Unreal. This 'is' a first. Never in my life have I ever been able to say that I have an Academy Award qualifying film. And I can't stop laughing. I just recently went back to look at the first entry ever published on this blog. A future totally unknown (as it should be). A road just beginning. This project had little more than faith and a few good friends pushing for it. And now this. Holy shit. Don't really know what to say. Think I'll just keep on laughing. C.

METHOD FEST

2008-04-08T02:56:50Z

Hey everyone. Just a quick update to say that The Method Fest was absolutely wonderful. And... we picked up 2 nominations. Best Short and Best Actor. Not only that, I actually won for Best Actor!!! Yeeee Haaaaa!!!! And I have to say, I've never before seen such astonishing work at a festival. The shorts that they put together for this festival were some of the finest films I have ever seen. Just mind blowing work. Had a lot of good friends there too. Bri McQuair, JR Bourne, Mike Rudd, Phil Hayes, Rob Stilson, Mark Rickerby, Claudia Rickerby, Derek Horne, Ali Nakelski, Paul McGillion, Stevie Styles... and of course my Dad. It was a great week and it was a real blast to finally take an award. That said... so far, the little film that could has screened 'in competition' in Montreal. Nominated for Best Emerging Director in Vancouver. Made the Top Ten lists in both Santa Barbara and Palm Springs and now, a nomination for Best Short, and a win for Best Actor. Not bad. We've also been accepted as part of the film market in Cannes AND been asked to screen at the exceptional Jackson Hole International Film Festival in Wyoming. All we need now is to win the lottery. My god this stuff costs money. Anyway, just wanted to give you guys a quick update. Thanks again everyone for all the support. Thank you Method Fest!! Sincerely, Colin

THE GOOD, THE BAD, AND THE CROSS DRESSER.

2008-03-30T22:50:14Z

Rented a movie with some friends last night, '3:10 to Yuma'. Or, as my buddy now refers to it, '3:10 to this sucks ass'. Now Christian Bale is worth my nickel any day of the week, but it got me thinking. Exactly what 'is' good, anyway? Why is it that you can watch a film and be moved to tears and yet the retard next to you is laughing his ass off? (Provided that the guy next to you isn't actually retarded.) Certainly it can't be that relative? It's always struck me as quite the mystery that some of the best films I've ever seen died a quick and painful death and yet, there's an Academy Award sitting on Whoopie Goldbergs mantel. God knows the films I've personally written or directed (although having received critical acclaim) have financially brought me little more than a croissant at a filmmakers breakfast. But that's my own personal rub. The films that inspired me when I was young have long gone extinct. The masterpieces of the 70's. The social commentary of the 60's. The zany fun of the 50's. The glamour of the 40's. Therefore the films I tend to personally make have the commercial staying power of an eight track tape. So, what the hell is it? Is art really in the eye of the beholder or does a jar of urine and a canvas of chimp shit really deserve space in a room of full Rembrants? Well, I've spent a lot of time pondering the above and I think I've come up with an answer. Identity. Fewer and fewer people today know what they are anymore, let alone what is great. In today's multi-cultural mud bog, you're lost. Where's the standard? When grades are given out for showing up, excellence not only becomes marginalized, it soon becomes illegal. George Clooney recently lamented on the fact that there aren't as many 'masterpieces' today as there were in the 70's. Interesting point. Where are the classics of today? I guess they just don't make them anymore. Or do they? Perhaps it's not that they're not made, it's that you no longer give a shit. If you live in the west, you can't scratch your ass without being branded a racist or a homophobe. And so, you've not only become jaded to the cries of your neighbors rape across the hall, you actually celebrate the guy who went to the Arts Council and got a hundred thousand dollars to piss on a crucifix. How the hell would you know what's good? Greatness today has become the collective. Something 'we all do' by default and so naturally, nobody knows what the hell it is. But not to panic we have the tv to remind us. Films today, although very good, shoot for little more now than the opening weekend box and zeitgeist. The styrofoam cup 'gone wild'. The big 'whatever'. And it's epidemic. And not that I'm taking any proverbial high road. I've worked on some of the crappiest film and television (and some of the best) shows in the world. But when I look at some of the filmmakers honored in my adopted Vancouver, I'm consistently amazed. I don't know a single one of my peers who isn't left scratching their heads. I mean not only is the Emperor walkin' around naked, but there's tissue stuck to his ass. And not that I haven't seen some great Canadian films, I've just never seen any of them honored in Canada. Now, I suppose we can take comfort in the fact that they're not American. (You know, American films having that whole 'entertainment' thing going on.) But how many films can you make about sex and heroin before somebody cries bullshit? But that's my thesis. When a nation loses it's identity and standards are thrown out the window, greatness becomes little more than flashing your snatch from a limousine. Know what I miss? I miss the movie Priest. Remember when the Priest was a symbol of strength and dignity? ANGELS WITH DIRTY FACES. ON THE WATERFRONT. MEN OF BOYS TOWN. Priests that would grab you by the scruff of the neck and kick your ass should they think you were on the wrong path. Symbols of strength and moral courage. The tough America. Not the pussy it's become today. They were the real deal. Ambassadors to doing the right thing. Not some placating apologist. One didn't need to be Catholic to appreciate the movie Priest. He was always the moral compass to the harsh reality of life. The Bowery was hard. So he was harder. The bad guy was tough. He was tougher. He had to be. He stood alone. Didn't have his 'posse' of thugs and other assorted pussies to make himself look bigger. Sure, he turned the other cheek, but he kept a big fist in his pocket. I miss those guys. The Fathers that had the boxing gym. The ones who would take in the troubled kid, teach him how to box and turn him into a Golden Gloves champion. How to stand as a man. To earn it and ask nothing of nobody. To pass on the hand out. Christ, do that today and your local honor student carves 'FASCIST' into the side of your car. Today, say Priest and what comes to mind? Pedophilia. Homosexuality. Sex Scandal. Deviance. Spineless pussy. Where have you gone Pat Obrien? Our nation turns it's lonely eyes to you. Want to end the war in Iraq? Drop Karl Malden in there. Even from his wheel chair, that guy'd kick the snot out of those homosexual/women/freedom hating natzi's with one hand and then still have time to drop kick that Iranian Howdy Doody they got over there into the stratosphere. Good? What the hell is that? I don't know anymore. When goodness is no longer cultivated, it's asthetic becomes invisible. But then again, what the hell do I know? My head's still spinning from the recipient of this years (Vancouver's) 'WOMAN IN FILM AWARD'. It went to a man. In a skirt.

THINK I'M GONNA BARF

2008-03-18T22:27:59Z

Sorry, gang. Been sick as a dog for the last 10 days. Will write more soon. C.

A LOVELY BUNCH OF COCONUTS

2008-02-21T17:55:52Z

Hey gang. A little bored. Too many miracles this week. Sure, there's CENTIGRADE news to report but let's be honest, who really gives a snort? If you're like most of us out there, this blog is little more than a curio. A two headed frog along the highway of e-mail, facebooks and youtubes. Granted, I'm sure a few of you out there are serious when it comes to the net. Philosophers and budding journalists 'researching' that new book. You know. The one that started off as an anthem of good triumphing over evil, but somehow morphed into a story about twin sisters with giant tits, a strap on and the ability to jerk off bad guys with their feet. So. Welcome to the state of the world. There's an election happening down south if you haven't been in the loop. A circus of two commies, a liberal and a bunch of college kids crying out for "change" (probably their bong water.) Half of them sprinkle Effexor on their cornflakes, the other half just checked out of Planned Parenthood and the loudest of them are terrified of catching their reflections in a lake. But what the hell do I know. There's a guy standing next to me crossing himself. I don't know if he's Catholic or just lookin' for his keys. And the train kept a rollin'. Anyway, I'm thinking about expanding the format of the site. Which, let's face it, is pretty much just a smokescreen for my soap box tuned ramblings about society and people as we don't know them. An Irish American GPS through the world of Hollywood and drift wood. Speaking of wood, where's Waldo? It's snowing in Greece! Two weeks ago Israelis were commuting to work on skis. Insanity. But not to worry, they've issued an Amber Alert on Mr. Gore. Check your milk carton. And that's it. So, check in and I'll have a little something different to ponder from week to week. Till' then, I leave you with a little tune written by Eugene O'Neil. Enjoy.

JUST IN...

2008-02-20T17:53:05Z

Hey everyone. Just a quick update. After a killer experience at the Santa Barbara International Film Festival, CENTIGRADE has just been selected to screen at the fabulous INTERNATIONAL du FILM FANTASTIQUE de BRUXELLES in Belgium and the smokin' METHOD FEST in Southern California. So, if we've got any DaVinci's Inquest fans or Stargate nuts out there in either Cali or Belgium, come on out and check out the fun. All the best everyone. C.

WHAT A FEST!

2008-01-31T17:52:27Z

It's hard to describe the perfect film festival. A blend of celluloid, celebrity and crystal keggers certainly produce the bulk of any cinematic sandwich. But what is it that makes one great? Location? Perhaps. Certainly frames the experience. Weather? Helps, but it dumped rain here for the first four days. It's the people. Always has been, always will be. Doesn't matter where you are or how many shrimp you can stuff down your gullet. If the people tearing the tickets at the door aren't welcoming, then you're not welcome. This is perhaps the greatest film festival in the world. It's no surprise to me at all that they have attracted some of the biggest names in Hollywood and beyond. Kate Blanchett, Tommy Lee Jones, Javier Bardem, Angelina Jolie. And that's just the tip of one incredibly impressive list. We all know of Sundance and Cannes. But those are not so much festivals anymore as they are spectacles. It's almost like being raised in a small town and then walking into a Home Depot for the first time. Sure, it's impressive, but it has no soul. This festival has so much soul. It's the Barry White of film festivals. Incredible staff. Volunteers so professional and friendly, you actually want to help them. Great people. They really are the glue to this event. That said, for the record. Roger Durling, you have created something exceptional. Candace Schermerhorn, thank you for the privilege. SBIFF? Recommended.

REQUIEM FOR A DOLLAR

2008-01-24T19:27:14Z

The guy in front of me won't shut up. I'm sitting on an airplane, on my way to Santa Barbara and the guy just won't shut up. Thank God he's not sitting next to me. Swear to God, I'd pretend to fall asleep then throw a nervous elbow into his face. Whoops. Sorry about that. I'm a pretty non-violent guy, but I believe a well earned wallop to the jaw isn't all that bad a thing. If a guy's out of line, then one may be morally obligated to give them a good pop on the nose. You know, as a gift. POP. Don't mention it. Hell, in days of old all you'd have to do was cuss in front of a lady and you'd earn a busted lip. (Granted, those were the days when you could find a lady, but I digress.) Heath Ledger died about four hours ago. I didn't know it until sitting on the airplane. But there was a stop over in Phoenix, I had my laptop open and I guess I picked up the terminal's signal. A quick click to the BBC and there it was. And I'm shocked. Stunned. So, I turned to the guy sitting up ahead of me, breaking the 'perfect stranger' protocol and I tell him. "Heath Ledger is dead." Laughing, the man says, "Ya, I'm all broken up." That's what the man said. And I've been sitting here on the plane staring blankly into the seat in front of me trying to get it out of my head. Last time I'd heard anything like it was 9/11 and (as people leaped to their deaths) some liberal wack job at Fitness World said the same thing. (I pushed him into a wall, cracked the mirror and lost my membership.) And so, I'm at a loss. Do I smack him from behind the seat? I don't know. That would somehow break the rules, you know? Never kick a man when he's down. Never smack a guy in a airplane. I have my honor after all. Perhaps I'll just let him sit, mouth ajar, cackling into the recycled wind and take comfort that the man is 35,000 feet in the air. For the moment, the world below is a more pleasant place to be. I was never a big fan of Heath Ledger, but I knew a damn good actor when I saw one. But one doesn't need to be a fan to feel saddened by his passing. But since Hollywood doesn't celebrate anything but death, I know by the time I get home, the tributes and musical montages will be choking the airwaves. We'll have everyone from Danny Bonaducci to Donald Trump commenting on it. Every loser, acquaintance and ex-drug addicted actor coming out of the closet to grant an opinion. Every burp and fart wanna-be rising from the mire to suck on a microphone for their proverbial fifteen. It going to make me sick. It would make Heath sick. And that's about as close as I'll ever know you brother. You've become in death, everything you despised in life. I can only pray for your family and wish you a safe crossing. As for me? I suppose I'll just wait for the book deal. Your masseuse will soon have an agent. Ironically, it'll probably be yours. ------------------------------------------------------------------ *In other news. A publisher in the Netherlands has been given 3 years hard labour in prison for publishing a cartoon. Arnold Shwarzennegger has banned the terms "Mom and Dad' from the Los Angeles Unified School District, and the children's book 'The Three Little Pigs' has been deemed "too offensive" to Muslims by England's Educational Agency and therefore banned. Worthless bits of news you won't see on CNN.