Liar

Rollins Band

Weight

Played 164 times

Music for the Weekend: LIAR by Rollins Band.

I’d like to dedicate this song to NFL Commissioner Roger Goodell. Read my open letter to him and you’ll understand why.

Back on the road, back to financing. In Canada, surrounded by lovely, nice people. I love it here.

Have a safe, wonderful weekend.

My Open Letter to Roger Goodell, NFL Commissioner.

With new video and information surfacing regarding the Ray Rice domestic violence case and the NFL, after much deliberation I’ve decided to pen a letter to NFL Commissioner Roger Goodell, demanding his resignation. Read the letter and if you agree, forward a link of this the letter to Mr. Goodell’s twitter account, his email (roger.goodell-at-nfl.dot-com), or write how you feel in your own words and send it to him, send it to your local NFL team’s offices (I sent one to the Denver Broncos offices). Send it anywhere you think it will be read.

(BTW here’s a link to contact info for the NFL.)

_____________

Dear Commissioner Goodell,

My earliest memory of professional football was that of a nightmare. At the age of four, I was convinced that Pittsburgh Steeler linebacker Jack Lambert was hiding in my closet. I used to turn off the lights, terrified, thinking Lambert would consume me despite his lack of front teeth. While terrifying as a child, as an adult it brings back fond memories of how much football and the NFL was a part of my life.

I grew up a Denver Broncos fan and have religiously watched every game I could for almost three decades now. My family, immigrants to this country from India, found a sense of community in Denver that centered around football. Some of our dearest and lifelong friends have come into our lives because of the shared experience of supporting our beloved home team.

Having idolized Steve Atwater, I worked hard as a kid to develop my body and skills to become a defensive back. I played in high school and it will forever be one of the most formative experiences of my life. My coaches, some of them retired NFL players, not only taught me teamwork, communication and the fundamentals of the game but also became father figures, teaching me as much about life as they did football.

It is obvious that my regard for the game is sacred, so it pains me all the more, for the first time in my life, to boycott the NFL because of your administration’s handling of the Ray Rice domestic violence case.

The NFL has made many errors in the past, as any organization is inevitably destined to do. In the face of these errors one has to have faith that the heads of the organization will make any and all corrective measures to ensure that these errors do not occur again. To do this requires humility and compassion, both of which were distinctly lacking in the handling of the Ray Rice case. That you, your staff, and the Baltimore Ravens organization were well aware of the infraction and yet actively denied the existence of conclusive and damning evidence not only makes you complicit, it makes you an accessory.

You may think this is hyperbole but it is not. I will go a step further and ask you to imagine if it was one of your own daughters in that elevator, would you bow down to the economics of demographic profitability and sponsorships and cover up evidence that would help bring her justice, and more importantly, safety?

You may also think it egregious for me to bring your daughters – your personal life – into this discussion, but remember that Janay Rice is also someone’s daughter. That every woman who is punched, kicked, spit upon, and dragged is someone’s daughter, someone’s sister, someone’s mother. To further compound the humiliation of the victims of domestic abuse, your committee – knowing evidence existed that would send Ray Rice to jail – made Janay describe what had happened to her in the presence of her attacker. Your lack of empathy and any notion of her future safety is mind boggling, disrespectful, and appalling.

Because of this I am requesting – no, demanding - your resignation, and the resignation of all individuals involved in the cover up of this case. I have in the past been forgiving of the NFL in its handling of substance abuse, knowing personally through collegiate friends who went on to the NFL that there are systems in place for rehabilitation and recovery. In theory these are things men do to themselves, and are not afflicting upon others. But violence upon another is another issue.

Just as swift action was taken against Michael Vick for his role in the abuse and killing of animals, the same consideration was not given for a woman being beaten unconscious by an NFL player. Michael Vick admitted fault, has expressed remorse and regret, and has fortuitously managed to rehabilitate a career despite losing the prime window of his athletic ability whilst incarcerated. But that is the price he willingly paid. That the NFL has pursued justice for abused and murdered dogs and yet is an accessory to denying evidence in violence against women says volumes about what you and your cohorts’ opinions of women actually are. In case you had forgotten, women are living, breathing people, your sisters, mothers and daughters, and not just a demographic to sell merchandise to or curry favor with similar deep-pocketed “not-for-profit” sponsors.

This is not about Ray Rice. This is not about his wife. This is not about the multitude of players, coaches and employees of the NFL who have had troubles with the law. It is about you and those involved knowingly obstructing justice, and doing so in the sole interests of preserving your organization and your job at the expense of victims of domestic abuse. Like any lie, your dishonesty has caused more damage than any perceived gain.

My coach in high school once told us that the great Vince Lombardi, whom the vaunted Super Bowl trophy is named for, was absolutely wrong. Winning isn’t everything. The main lesson of sport is humility, the cornerstone of sportsmanship. The greatest thing I learned from football was not to win at any cost, but to lose with dignity and respect. If I was bested by a wide receiver, my coach would hold me by the pads, look me in the eyes, and tell me to go to that receiver after the game, shake his hand, and tell him he played a great game. And I had to mean it. It is a lesson that to this date has made me a better son, brother, husband, citizen and man.

In this regard I ask you and those complicit to exercise the same lesson of football. Prudence, justice and morality have bested you all. It is time for you to admit your wrongdoing, acknowledge your being caught, and resign with whatever dignity you have left. Until that happens, I will not be watching your games, and I will continue to vehemently campaign for others to do the same.

The NFL was once the bastion of manhood and sportsmanship. Today, because of you, it represents neither, and instead is an organization that has decided to sweep domestic violence under the rug. While it is a difficult and brutal decision for me to give up on the game that has ingrained itself in my DNA, it is nowhere near as brutal as domestic violence. Any person or organization that tries to cover up domestic violence, who is incapable of compassion or empathy, is not worthy of my time, consideration or money.

I look forward to your resignation and the rebuilding of a once-proud league.

Sridhar Reddy
Chicago, Illinois

Never try to convey your idea to the audience – it is a thankless and senseless task. Show them life, and they’ll find within themselves the means to assess and appreciate it.

Andrei Tarkovsky

I struggled with this concept for a very long time. I always knew I had something important to say, and I didn’t realize that the last thing the audience wanted from me is to hear me say it. If they wanted a soapbox lecture they’d have paid to hear me speak and not buy a movie ticket. They shouldn’t hear an idea, they should experience it. This was an absolute revelation to me, and the difference between my first feature and my second was immeasurable because of this discovery.

Before I made my first film (19 Revolutions) I could have read this Tarkovsky quote a billion times and I would have made the same choices because I was headstrong in my desire to convey my ideas. I had great ideas about wealth disparity and the plight of forgotten youth, and in a grand mistake I had my actors talk about those ideas as opposed to live through them. React to them. It made for a talky, preachy movie, and my saving grace is that the dialogue was at least interesting and my actors brought some cool nuances to it. Other than that it was a lecture on film.

With my new film 'Six Angry Women' I also have a lot of ideas, but I’m taking the approach of having my actresses develop characters around those ideas, using real life people and incidences as the foundational pillars, and we shall improvise in rehearsals from there to build up the screenplay. In improvisation we will hopefully see real reactions to those ideas, reactions based on truths. This will be our key to experiencing ideas, to creating images that show how something feels as opposed to how it looks. During this entire time we will be recording and jotting down our discoveries, and from this our story, shot list and screenplay will emerge.

This of course requires immensely talented actresses, and I’ve already found three of my six angry women. They are both writers and actors, and have done some truly astounding work in Chicago theater. It’s my responsibility to have them think in terms of film and to hone their creativity towards my ideas, and let them build life around it. It’s exhilarating and scary at the same time, but with each new word and image comes waves of anticipation and excitement.

It’s like watching a new universe being born in front of our eyes!

Announcing my new feature project, 6 ANGRY WOMEN.

Yes, this is my take on Sidney Lumet’s classic 12 Angry Men, except set against a fictional trial of the murder of a young black teenager. Sound familiar? It should. Between Trayvon Martin, Michael Brown / Ferguson and Eric Garner, this is a subject that is not only timely but necessary.

The twist of this production is that I’m going into rehearsals without a screenplay, only an outline, a set of objectives, and a ton of research. I’m going to count on my actresses to improvise and build the script in rehearsals, an approach used with great skill by one of my cinematic heroes, Mike Leigh.

I, of course, am no Mike Leigh and I find the approach absolutely terrifying. I’m a scientist by nature, I plan things out to molecular detail. But this is an exercise in letting it go, of having absolute control and none at the same time. I’ve been planning for over 18 months now, and hopefully my preparation will serve me well.

In the coming weeks I’ll be going into detail of the pre-production and production of this film, just as I did with Lilith. This is an infinitesimaly smaller production than Lilith - microbudget is an understatement - but it is just as big, if not bigger, in its emotional scope and political impact.

Onward we go, into the great unknown. I’m going to be counting on you, my loyal and hyper-smart followers, to help me promote this production throughout. It needs to build steam as it is a vital issue and a very unorthodox way to discuss it. We need to come up from the underground and give as strong a voice possible to the voiceless. The world should know about this film long before it reaches any screen, it should be the film made by the people and lifted by the people. We can do it.  

Hope you like the poster, I designed and illustrated it myself, a nod to Saul Bass and Otto Preminger. Seemed appropriate.

Have a great weekend!
Zoom Info
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  • EPSON Perfection V33/V330

Announcing my new feature project, 6 ANGRY WOMEN.

Yes, this is my take on Sidney Lumet’s classic 12 Angry Men, except set against a fictional trial of the murder of a young black teenager. Sound familiar? It should. Between Trayvon Martin, Michael Brown / Ferguson and Eric Garner, this is a subject that is not only timely but necessary.

The twist of this production is that I’m going into rehearsals without a screenplay, only an outline, a set of objectives, and a ton of research. I’m going to count on my actresses to improvise and build the script in rehearsals, an approach used with great skill by one of my cinematic heroes, Mike Leigh.

I, of course, am no Mike Leigh and I find the approach absolutely terrifying. I’m a scientist by nature, I plan things out to molecular detail. But this is an exercise in letting it go, of having absolute control and none at the same time. I’ve been planning for over 18 months now, and hopefully my preparation will serve me well.

In the coming weeks I’ll be going into detail of the pre-production and production of this film, just as I did with Lilith. This is an infinitesimaly smaller production than Lilith - microbudget is an understatement - but it is just as big, if not bigger, in its emotional scope and political impact.

Onward we go, into the great unknown. I’m going to be counting on you, my loyal and hyper-smart followers, to help me promote this production throughout. It needs to build steam as it is a vital issue and a very unorthodox way to discuss it. We need to come up from the underground and give as strong a voice possible to the voiceless. The world should know about this film long before it reaches any screen, it should be the film made by the people and lifted by the people. We can do it.

Hope you like the poster, I designed and illustrated it myself, a nod to Saul Bass and Otto Preminger. Seemed appropriate.

Have a great weekend!

Big Announcement Tomorrow!

Excited to announce my new feature project tomorrow. It’s something that’s been in the works for about a year and a half, and the time has come to take the leap and just do it. Events in the world have dictated that I need to make this film now.

For me it’s an entirely new approach to making a film, and truthfully it scares the living daylights out of me. But it’s an essential step in my development, to become the filmmaker I aspire to be.

Watch this space!

#6aw

Loctaine

Peter Murphy

Lion [+digital booklet]

Played 184 times

Music for the Weekend: Loctaine by Peter Murphy.

My first concert ever was a Bauhaus show, at the Gothic Theater in Denver. I was thirteen. I’d listened to all the tapes but I had no idea what to do at a show. I showed up in an Einsturzende Neubauten t-shirt, baggy jeans and a beat-up pair of Air Jordans. I was surrounded by mostly porcelain-pale women dressed in black lace, black nailpolish and lipstick, and black / purple hair covering most of their faces. They shrieked and cried as the band played, and despite sticking out like a sore thumb it was for the first time that I felt any kind of sense of community. I loved this kind of music and was ashamed of having dark thoughts, and here was a bunch of people who expressed it outwardly, without shame or embarrassment. The room was full of fog and piercing lights, and Peter Murphy emerged from the mist, shirtless and skeleton-like, and full of a primal, dark energy as he dove headfirst into a blistering rendition of 'Stigmata Martyr.' A hot girl next to me was so excited that she grabbed me and kissed me long and hard on the neck, leaving behind a black lipstick reminder. It was technically my first kiss.

Six days ago on my plane ride home I was listening to Peter Murphy’s new record, and between my post-fever haze and feeling emotional about leaving my grandparents, this song brought tears to my eyes. I felt like one of those ghostly goth girls, swelling with feeling and sadness. I can still feel the raw power in Murphy’s voice, now fifty-seven years tested, and I put this track on repeat and listened to it for an hour.

My sickness has taught me to live in the moment, that our lives can change on a dime. It’s been one year since my wife and I experienced our tragic loss, and where I once used to think the flair for drama and bellicose was silly, I see now the value of living out loud, in the present moment, not caring what people think. Which doesn’t mean we have license to be inconsiderate - in that theater with Bauhaus we respected each others’ space, and any outward displays were in the name of passion, love and life. We learn lessons from life, and sometimes we need a trigger - a reminder - of those moments that meant something to us and changed our lives. I never realized until now how important my first concert was, beyond it being my first concert. It was my first experience of a shared love, of connecting with who you are with people who understood you. That’s pretty special.

Next time you go to a show, think of that scared thirteen year old who finally learned to let go and let life happen to him. You’ll hear the music in an entirely new way, a powerful way, a way that art can only affect you. You’ll find it magical.

Have a wonderful weekend.

Back home, weird dreams.

What a trip. Got a lot of business done but turn around succumbed to the worst fever I’ve ever had. Eight days with my temperature above 102, two days where I was near 109. Started seeing things. Couldn’t put words together. Never thought I was going to die, but I was worried about my brain.

I was worried about my brain because I was having really bizarre visions and dreams that would get stuck on a salient point, and when I awoke I too would be stuck on that salient point. And I mean stuck. To the point where my mind would obsess on what things meant and how it all fit together.

I had a singularity dream where I collapsed in a bathtub and through the drain I could see one thousand different versions of the same event, each slightly different than the other. It was as if my life were one of those 100-CD carousel players and all I had to do was stop on one of them and my life could continue on. I would choose a particular reality but end up back in that bathtub, looking down that same drain. As if I could not escape time, that it would find its own equilibrium.

My second dream involved a black USB cable that had no function, but it was extremely important. I could see myself holding the cable and hear myself saying the words “black USB cable” over and over again. It was a piece of a puzzle to making a larger technological construct work, and I was surrounded by robotic machines and giant chunks of twisted metal, one of which needed a black USB cable. I could feel it in my brain, lucid in vision, but I could not articulate it. My nurse tells me that at the height of my fever I tried to explain to her something about a “head start,” about having it all laid out before me and locating a power source. She said I was talking gibberish. Even now I feel like something important in my brain is trying to express itself.

It’s believed that altered states are when we are at our most lucid - we’re looking into the ether of something beyond logic. My brain was cooking itself and making connections that could either be interpreted as madness or some greater pattern that is worth investigating more.

It’s a gift that I have perfect recall of my dreams, but figuring them out is an entirely different matter. The imagery produced is vivid and often does find its way into my work, but when I figure out a narrative puzzle it makes for some very interesting scenarios, born of legitimate tension and pull. Doesn’t mean I seek altered states - the loss of control is probably the greatest frustration I can experience and I do not cherish it. But altered states can also be achieved without the use of drugs or being pushed to the medical brink. Transcendental meditation, sensory engagement / overload (music, paint, color, sex, etc.) and simply being open to the indifference of the universe can take you there. It’s the major difference between creating a scene and creating an experience. If we can convey rawness of being in our most simple and elegant forms, then what we commit to paper is hard truths, real feelings, and sometimes things we weren’t supposed to find.

Fright unlocks a lot of dark truths. I was certainly frightened whilst in the hospital, in a different country, away from my loved ones. And it tapped something powerful inside of me. Because I am a writer I can explore this, and it is a new frontier for me, an infinite horizon of the mind. It’s exhilarating and powerful, and I am thankful I am able to do it.

Glad to be home. A few weeks and I’m back on the road, raising more money and putting it all together. Thank you for your patience these past three weeks, I will get back to posting regularly. Much appreciated.

Your humble director,
Sridhar.

Robin Williams - My Memory.

It’s amazing to see how many lives Robin Williams touched, and how devastating his loss has been to so many, yours truly included. I memorized every one of Adrian Cronaur’s monologues from ‘Good Morning Vietnam’ (“Fool - it’s so hot I saw a guy in an orange robe burst into flames! Damn!”) and reveled in the quiet, tender moment when he saw young men off into battle. But perhaps the most meaningful moment in Mr. Williams’ filmography for me was the most innocuous.

My mom was a fan of ‘Mork and Mindy’ (it was impossible not to be a fan as the show was set in Boulder) and in the grocery store video section she saw a Robin Williams film and brought it home. “It’s got Mork!” she exclaimed, and after a nice dinner the family settled around the tv, and dad popped in the cassette. The movie was ‘Moscow on the Hudson’ and it was NOTHING like Mork from Ork. It was dirty, profane, and on a wire’s edge. I didn’t understand it, but I found its energy infectious. Then a scene in the film burned itself into my head forever. There was Robin Williams, naked and easily one of the hairiest men on the planet, cavorting in a bathtub with an equally naked Maria Conchita-Alonso, their tub flanked with American flag shower curtains. Mom shut off the VCR at that moment, realizing this wasn’t a family-friendly movie. But that scene stuck with me, and it did with every Robin Williams movie I saw thereafter.

As I grew older, as I lived in places all around the world, as I struggled with life and celebrated small victories, that image always came back into my head. It was happiness in America. It was simple pleasures, sex and Chinese take-out. It was raw power. And today I realize that it was everything that Robin Williams embodied. I still haven’t seen ‘Moscow on the Hudson’ in its entirety and for me the movie will always end on that bathtub scene, and I want it to stay that way. It will forever be my personal memory of a rare actor who became a part of an entire civilization’s DNA. Rest in peace, Mr. Williams. May your demons be calmed and I hope you find the healing power of love and laughter, the very same gift you gave to us all. You will be missed.

Further Not Better

Wife

What's Between

Played 179 times

Music for the Weekend: Further Not Better by WIFE.

Am halfway around the planet in India, just getting started on my meetings with potential financiers for some long-gestating projects. It’s been three years since I was last in this country, which continues to reinvent itself on a daily basis. The world is changing at a pace that few of us can comprehend.

I chose this song because of its backstory. James Kelly, who is the brain behind WIFE, is also the brain behind Altar of Plague, one of the best black metal bands in Ireland. It’s a complete shift in musical ideology, and yet Kelly makes it work. Listening to this album on my flight reminded me that the greatest joy as an artist is to be unclassifiable. It means no one can peg you down, no one can predict your next move, and if you’re really good at your craft, the world will eagerly anticipate your next move.

It also means that you will continue to challenge yourself, you will never become complacent or spin your wheels. As the saying goes, change is the only constant, and this applies to so much more than just art. Never be bored. Never be satisfied. Never settle. Always change, always learn, always discover. The art which will come out of you will surprise you, it will be dangerous, and most importantly, it will be yours.

Have a great weekend.