Productions are coming back! After a long hiatus the plans to begin production are starting to come into focus.
That is great news!
But something else lurks on the horizon…
The WGA and the major agencies are still at odds with no end in sight.The smart writers see this as an opportunity to take their work directly to producers and managers rather than trying to land agents.
Across the industry, from the UK to the US, producers are looking for the most cutting edge scripts!
Productions are coming back! After a long hiatus the plans to begin production are starting to come into focus.
That is great news!
But something else lurks on the horizon…
The WGA and the major agencies are still at odds with no end in sight.The smart writers see this as an opportunity to take their work directly to producers and managers rather than trying to land agents.
Across the industry, from the UK to the US, producers are looking for the most cutting edge scripts!
CALLING ALL DIRECTORS AND PRODUCERS AS WELL AS ACTORS WITH INFLUENCE …
By the way W.G.A. stands for
Writers Guild of America (WGA) writing credit system for motion pictures and television programs covers all works under the jurisdiction of the Writers Guild of America, East (WGAE) and the Writers Guild of America, West (WGAW).
A labour union composed of the thousands of writers who write the content for television shows, movies, news programs, documentaries, animation, and Internet and even mobile phones.
SURVIVES IN THE ADVENTURE OF THE FUGITIVE STAG
HIS WOUND IS HEALED & HE IS REJUVENATED
What thou lovest well remains,
the rest is dross
What thou lov’st well shall not be reft from thee
What thou lov’st well is thy true heritage …
To have gathered from the air a live tradition
or from a fine old eye the unconquered flame
This is not vanity.
Here error is all in the not done,
all in the diffidence that faltered . . .
Ezra Pound
She can read many of my favourite poets in their original language.
WERNER HERZOG – Xan Brooks writes: Does he read in English or German? “Ha,” he says, as though I have fallen into his trap. “I read in other languages, too. I read in Spanish and I read in Latin and I read in ancient Greek and I read in, er, whatever. But it doesn’t matter. It depends on the text.
I mean, take, for instance, Hölderlin, the greatest of the German poets. You cannot touch him in translation. If you’re reading Hölderlin, you must learn German first.”
The divine Holderlin! At least I enjoy the excellent translations of Michael Hamburger. He worked on Holderlin for 60 years and for his 80th birthday put out an 800 page parallel text 4th edition. My ‘Holderlin Bible.’
Herzog’s early years read like a Bildungsroman, like something he had immortalised in one of his own films. Born in Nazi Germany in 1942, he was raised in splendid seclusion, in a Bavarian mountain village. He saw his first movie at 11, made his first telephone call at 17 and had founded his first production company before his 20th birthday, using a camera he had stolen from the Munich film school. His career and current status is a triumph of self-actualisation. And possibly self-mythologising, too, because the man is a canny circus barker, keen to ensure that we print the legend
His tales may be salted, but they are, by and large, true, just as the films themselves stir documentary realism in with wanton, stylised fabrication to the point where the usual genre labels no longer apply. In terms of subject matter, he has always been drawn to wild corners and dark pockets, be it the Chauvet caves of southern France, bear-infested west Alaska or the fevered psyches of his fictional anti-heroes. Every production is a quest. Every film is a quarry – something to be pursued with bows and arrows, or coaxed out of the forest and invited to eat from your hand. Herzog’s finest work (the ethnographic documentary Cave of Forgotten Dreams, say, or The Enigma of Kaspar Hauser, his tale of a 19th-century German foundling) touches on the sublime. But even his misfires and experiments are never without interest.
It’s very strange, but I have never been my actual age. For a start, I grew up later than my peers. Physically, you know – my puberty was late. Then at age 19 I started making films, which is work you don’t normally do until you’re 35. All the years when you learn your craft, become an apprentice, train to become a clockmaker or doctor – I jumped them. And it’s odd because it means that I have never lived my proper age. That’s why I don’t have much contact with my peers.”
From an article by – At 77 and holed up in lock-down, the veteran director and latter day actor shows no signs of slowing down or accepting any limitations – by Xan Brooks
The Fugitive Stag 