Money in the bank

When I'm watching a tv show or a movie, there are always certain actors I'm happy to see. Actors who directors and audiences can rely on to give a great, complete, immersed in the character performance every time, with the uncannny ability to play any genre—comedy, drama, classical, farce, screwball, rom-com—all with the greatest of ease.

It's not easy, but these actors make it look that way.

Two of my favorites who deliver every time are Gary Cole and Margo Martindale. They are, as the saying goes, money in the bank.

I first saw Gary Cole in Fatal Vision, the story of Captain Jeffrey MacDonald, who murdered his pregnant wife and two daughters and tried to blame it on a Manson-like group of hippies. Cole has been reliably great in every role I've seen him in since.

One of my favorites was his portrayal of FBI Agent Baxter in A Simple Plan. I'm not going to spoil the surprise twist that his character takes in that role, but it is chilling. It's a great movie worth seeing, and Cole's performance, which comes near the end of the film, is one of the best reasons to watch it.

I'm sure I'd seen Margo Martindale before, but her performance as Hillary Swank's mom in Million Dollar Baby was the one that put her on the map for me. It's a joy for me every time I see her on screen. I especially liked her as the Russian handler in The Americans, and as Peter Florrick's campaign manager in The Good Wife.

Yes, I watched The Good Wife. Shut up.

There are many actors who may not be household names, but elevate whatever project they're in with their enormous talent, humility and committment. A dozen years ago, I wrote about another great one who's name almost no one knows but who's face almost everyone recognizes—Dabbs Greer.

Anyway, no funny little quips to end this. Just a tip of the hat, and a show of appreciation for real talent by two extradordinary actors that bring me pure joy, and some well-needed escape, every time I encounter them.

Ok. That's a wrap.

The view from the peer

Round and round it goes, what it'll say nobody knows.

There's a new trend in town, and its name is 360° Performance Review. Here's how it works: everyone walks around the chairs, and when the music stops whoever is standing...no, wait a minute, that's something else.

Ok, I got it now. You're volunteered by an email that shows up to sign up for a performance evaluation app. Then, you're asked to select between three and five of your teammates (post on the term "Team player" coming soon) to request feedback about your performance. The feedback comes in the form of pre-determined questions they receive once your supervisor has approved your choices.

So a few things can happen here.

First, I could give $20 each to the people I choose and say write something nice about me. $50 for something really nice. I could do a quid pro quo—if they write a nice review of me, I'll write a nice one for them. Or everyone can just let the evaluations fall where they may.

It's not exactly crowdsourcing my review, but it seems somewhat adjacent. And I'm not sure how I feel about it.

Time was when your supervisor would call you into an office (when there were offices—don't get me started) and tell you what they thought of the job you were doing. Where you needed to improve. What your strengths were. What they expected of you going forward. Now they get to aggregate the information about my performance from several people who

1) I may have pissed off intentionally or not (probably intentionally knowing me)

2) May or may not have any idea about what it is I actually do day to day

3) Did I mention people I might've pissed off?

Ask anyone who knows me, and they'll tell you I'm always first in line as a cheerleader for forward progress. I fully support indoor plumbing, color television, jet airplanes, rural electrification and the interwebs. Be that as it may, the idea of treating performance reviews—which are highly influential in determining raises, promotions and assignments—as some kind of Kickstarter or Indie Go-Go platform doesn't quite make sense to me.

But then I'm in advertising. Very little of it makes sense to me.

Goodbye John Hurt

British actor John Hurt died today of pancreatic cancer. In everything from Alien to The Elephant Man to three of the Harry Potter, his exceptional talent was on display in all its range and colors.

A few years ago I wrote this post—under the title of We Have Contact—about a lesser seen role of his that's always been one of my favorites. I hope you enjoy the clip of it.

The year isn't even a month old, and it's already claimed yet another one of the greats.

I'll miss John Hurt. He was one of those rare talents I always thought would be around forever. Fortunately all of his performances will.

The image many people have of John Hurt is of him thrashing around on the dining table of the space ship Nostromo with an alien bursting out of his chest.

Or maybe it's his grotesquely disfigured form in The Elephant Man, as he proclaims to Anthony Hopkins he is not an animal, he's a human being.

Younger moviegoers might know him as Mr. Olivander from the Harry Potter movies - including the next two of them.

But his one performance I think I enjoy most is one most people didn't see. His role as eccentric, reclusive, terminally ill billionaire industrialist S.R. Hadden in the Robert Zemeckis film Contact.

With a keen interest in space and extra-terrestrials, his character is compelling, creepy and brilliant all at the same time (not unlike a few creative directors I know).

I quote the line at the end of this scene all the time. Scares the hell out of my kids.

The pleasure that is Platt

There's an entire class of actors I feel are underrated. They're usually something more than character actors, yet somewhat less than lead actors.

It's in this sweet spot that Oliver Platt lives. He's been one of my favorites for years.

Whether it's White House lead counsel in The West Wing, Warren Beatty's nervous, cocaine-fueled campaign manager in Bulworth, acidic restaurant critic Ramsey Michel in last year's Chef or Cameron's gay bowling adversary on last night's Modern Family, Platt's characters are fully realized, unique and completely organic. He couldn't make a false move if he tried.

Full disclosure: years ago I started writing a television show for Platt before my complete lack of discipline did me in. Again. I'm working on it, okay? Back off.

Anyway, it was about two lawyers who were also brothers. One went to prestigious Harvard law school, and the other went to the Saul Goodman law school in Samoa. Through a series of events, they wind up in practice together, and the néer-do-well brother winds up teaching his Harvard grad broheim a thing or two about the real meaning of the law.

Along the way, hilarity ensues.

Like so many other projects of mine languishing in a drawer or on a disc somewhere, I never finished writing it. But each time I see Oliver Platt onscreen, my muse is rekindled and I start thinking about maybe easing into working on it again.

He deserves a great show of his own, and I'd like to be the one to create it for him.

Like Phillip Seymour Hoffman, Gene Hackman, John Cazale, Jon Polito, Michael McKean and a dozen more, Oliver Platt's presence in a project elevates it far beyond where it would've been without him.

Of course now that I've spilled the beans on the lawyer/brother idea, I'll have to come up with something else.

I'll do my best to make it worthy of him.

Opening Night

Since the beginning of the year, both my kids have been in rehearsals for the annual production their school does as a fundraiser. It’s called Broadway Showcase, and they’ve been a part of the production for years.

I think it could also be called I didn’t think it was legal in this state to make kids work that hard.

In addition to their regular curriculum, they also have to go to rehearsals every day after school. At first, they got out at 9 p.m. But as it started getting closer to opening night, rehearsals let out at 10 p.m.

Then of course there was the President’s Day rehearsal which went on for about 10 hours. I’m sure show tunes are exactly how Washington and Lincoln wanted to be remembered.

There is also no cutting of the slack. When my kids drag their tired selves home at 10:30 or 11 from rehearsals, that’s when they have to open the books (iPad) and start on the hours of homework they’re still expected to turn in the next day.

But tonight and tomorrow night, it all pays off. The wife and I will be at the Theater for Performing Arts in La Mirada, watching our beautiful, talented kids sing and dance their hearts out to an appreciative, loving audience filled with classmates, parents and grandparents.

Safe to say it’s not a tough crowd. But they give it their all as if they were performing at the Majestic Theater on 53rd St.

History tells me that the second night will be better than the first because they’ll have gotten the nerves and the bugs out. And the second night is also closing night – it’s a short run. So there’s a looseness to the production that’s pretty entertaining.

Afterwards, they’ll have the wrap party. And then, while no one will be getting a Tony for their work, they’ll be getting something even more valuable when they get home.

Sleep.

Oooowwwwdi

Every once in a while, a commercial comes along that restores my faith in advertising. Well, faith is a strong word. Let’s just say occasionally a spot grabs hold of me and won’t let go.

The Audi Super Bowl spot called Prom is one of them.

I love this commercial. Everything about it is perfect. The casting, the writing, the performances, the cinematography, all of it.

The fact that it’s for a car I love – yes I still miss my A6 – doesn’t hurt either.

Occasionally a director is able to catch lightning in the lens. I think he/she did it here with the shot of the prom queen opening her eyes, just after the shot of him behind the wheel with his black eye. It’s a reaction shot of her, but you feel as spellbound as she does.

So many car spots make the mistake of trying to communicate what it feels like to drive their vehicle. Where this spot succeeds brilliantly – from taking the principal’s parking spot to the beeline he makes towards the prom queen – is conveying how driving the Audi makes you feel inside. Everyone knows that feeling. Everyone wants it. What's engaging about this spot is that it’s about so much more than the car.

If you’re a regular reader of this blog, you know I don’t lavish commercials or the business with praise very often. But to me, the simplicity, the universal truth of it, the underdog winning consequences be damned, is all done so well I wanted to make sure people are aware of it.

You know, besides the billion people who saw it on the Super Bowl.

Goodbye Taylor

I come down hard on advertising in a lot of these posts, and for the most part advertising deserves it. But without a doubt one of the best things about being in this business is the people you get to work with.

To my great joy and surprise, I got to work with Taylor Negron early on.

I'd known who Taylor was for a long time. I had a lot of friends who were stand ups, and I spent a lot of years hanging out at the Improv on Melrose and the legendary Comedy Store on Sunset Blvd. My good friend Ned was even the MC at the store for awhile.

I'd seen Taylor perform many, many times. He was offbeat, unique and had a timing and sensibility all his own. It was his uniqueness that made him so compelling. Even though he may not have been well known in the mainstream, he was a comedian that other comedians admired.

Years ago, I wanted Taylor for a Church's Fried Chicken commercial I did, and was shocked when he came in and read for it. Which of course he didn't have to - the part was his, and I was prepared to fall on my sword with the client, the director, my creative director, the account people or anyone who said it wasn't.

Fortunately, everyone saw his remarkable talent and what he brought to the table. It was hard not to.

I'd like to say we became great pals after that, but we didn't. I did however continue to follow him, and was always excited when he came onscreen in the various movie roles he had like Fast Times At Ridgemont High and The Last Boy Scout, where he was a wicked blond-haired villain long before Javier Bardem ever thought about bleaching his hair for the Bond film.

In one of those ooo-weeee-oooo moments, I was thinking about Taylor just the other day, wondering why I hadn't seen him in anything in awhile. I didn't know he was fighting cancer, apparently for some time. And I'm heartbroken he lost the fight.

Anyway, thank you Taylor for your talent, for making me laugh, and for making my work far better than it would've been without you. I feel blessed to have been one of the lucky ones.

Rest in peace.

Guilty pleasures Part 7: Edge Of Tomorrow

Yet another installment in the Guilty Pleasures series. If you haven’t been following it, I won't take it personally like so many other things - bad weather and heavy traffic to name a couple. Instead, I’ll just make it easy for you to catch up here, here, here, here, here and here.

But like a well written sequel (chuckles to himself for pretending to know the phrase “well written”), you don’t have to see the original to follow along with this latest installment.

Edge Of Tomorrow is part of the repeating-until-you-get-it-right genre of films. Also in the cannon are Groundhog’s Day, Looper, Source Code, Frequency, Run Lola Run and several others. It stars Tom Cruise and Emily Blunt, who clearly work well and have fun together.

Cruise plays a smarmy military PR hack who winds up getting volunteered into being a soldier and winds up having to kill the alien brain, which then kills all the aliens.

Or something like that.

The problem is he dies each time. But because he’s been exposed to the alien’s blood, he keeps rebooting his days and learning more each time out.

It’s clearly not an original concept, but it’s dished up in an extremely fun way. It’s an action and humor filled two hours of pure entertainment, which is what a summer get-the-aliens-before-they-get-us movie should be.

I’ve always liked Cruise. I don’t pay attention to the Scientology craziness, or how his marriage du jour is doing. I think he’s an extraordinarily talented actor, and a brave one.

Interview With The Vampire. Born On The Fourth Of July. Tropic Thunder. Collateral. Magnolia. Not a safe choice in the bunch. But Cruise takes them on – putting his vanity aside - and commits to the performances with an intensity not often seen in actors at any stage of their career.

He also happens to have been in several of my favorite movies: Jerry Maguire. A Few Good Men. Rain Man (where I felt he had a much more difficult role than Dustin Hoffman, who won an Oscar for his performance).

From the minute he slid across the hardwood floor in his underwear in Risky Business, Tom Cruise has been willing to do what it takes to entertain his audience.

Just like he does in Edge Of Tomorrow.

Apply words as needed

There's been a lot of discussion about the death of Phillip Seymour Hoffman, and not all of it as sympathetic as you might expect.

There are people inflamed at how selfish it was to shoot heroin when you have kids. It's a point of view I understand, but it's an awfully unforgiving one usually put forth by people who have no concept about the grip heroin can have on a life.

Until the beginning of last year, Hoffman had been clean and sober for over 20 years. When he fell off the wagon, he sought help by enrolling himself in rehab last May.

Sadly, as we all know, it didn't stick.

But beyond a brilliant body of work, he also left us these words, that can be applied to virtually any job.

It's a simple message: do the best you can at every opportunity you're given. You're not better than the work. And if you want to be noticed and remembered, then give them something to notice and remember.

Phillip Seymour Hoffman did that every time at bat.

Despite his sad and most certainly tragic death, he left us words to live by.

Goodbye to one of the greats

This picture of Phillip Seymour Hoffman is what he looked like when I met him. On the right is my best friend and best man Scott Thomson. As you can probably guess, the photo is from the movie Twister.

Scott was in Ponca City, Oklahoma for months filming Twister, and it just so happened he was going to be there through one of his more significant birthdays. My wife and I decided we'd surprise him, so I called Bill Paxton (under his alias at the hotel) and together we arranged a surprise party for Scott.

Let me just say you haven't lived until you've partied on a Saturday night at the VFW in Ponca City. Helen Hunt and I were playing barrel of monkeys. Long story.

Anyway, Scott introduced my wife and me to many members of the cast, including Phillip. My memory of him is just this electric energy, this bigger than life character that also came across in the movie.

Obviously you didn't have to meet him to be a huge fan of his remarkable talent. From the music critic in Almost Famous, to the author in State And Main, the sad sound man in Boogie Nights, the disgruntled team manager in Moneyball, the heavy in Mission Impossible, his Oscar-winning performance in Capote and fifty-eight other films, to me he was like the Gene Hackman of his generation. It didn't matter if the film was good or bad, Hoffman was always a shining light, the extraordinary performance to look forward to that would elevate the work to an entirely different level.

I think the fact I got to meet him makes his death even sadder. He'd struggled with heroin addiction for years, even entering rehab last May.

I always used to wonder about stars of a certain era and stars of today. I used to say will we feel the same way about, for example, Bruce Willis passing as we did about Jimmy Stewart? Phillip Seymour Hoffman was one of today's golden era. He was the real deal.

At one point in Charlie Wilson's War, Hoffman's character says, "It was nothing."

Watching Phillip Seymour Hoffman on screen was something.

Rest in peace.

Drive envy

I don’t like to talk about it because it’s embarrassing. But not long ago I posted a piece about how small my hard drive was, and how I'd get a bad case of drive envy every time I saw a larger one. It’d gotten to the point where I’d get all excited when an app or file would catch my eye, only to be let down knowing my drive would just limp along, unable to handle it.

So I started looking into drive enhancement options. Ways to make my hard drive bigger, improve its performance. I didn’t know which one I’d go with, I only knew I wanted it to be as big as possible.

Well, the waiting paid off. Thanks to the ever-forward march of technology, today I have a really big, shiny hard drive. In just a few hours I went from 320GB to 1TB, and it didn’t even hurt at all (except maybe a little in the wallet).

In the past it wasn’t possible to upgrade to a 1TB drive for my model MacBook Pro. I always thought the problem was the heat, but come to find out it was the size.

No matter what anyone says, when it comes to hard drives every millimeter counts. Since the 1TB drive is now two millimeters thinner than it used to be, it fit perfectly when the technician carefully slid it inside my laptop.

If it comes down to buying a new laptop or upgrading the one you have, I’d suggest looking into the upgrade.

At first you'll be waving it around, showing off how big it is to anyone who'll look at it. But try not to do too much of that. Keep it in its case. Nobody likes suddenly having one of those shoved right in their face when they aren't expecting it.

You might also feel a little cheap having gone for the upgrade instead of a new one. Don't worry, you're not alone. That feeling will pass.

And besides, your improved performance will be well worth it.