Chicago Actor Blues

#12 - Back from the Dead

2008-11-25T13:57:00.000-08:00

I'm writing from Goshen, Indiana, land of my forebears, sort of. On Main Street the buildings' facades highlight the respective years of their completion - 1878, 1873, etc. Looking north from my second cousin's cafe, I can see the still-perfect dome of the county building in the center of the town square, completed also in 18-something or other. On one corner of the square, across the street from Goshen's original bank, is a small, armored building erected, armed and manned in the 1930s to protect against John Dillinger's legendary crime spree.

The only mar on this town-scape is the old, amazingly classic movie theatre which has been converted into a church. A church. A stinking church. This, of course, amounts to sacrilege for those of us who subscribe to the religion of cinema. Speaking of cinema and my hometown, "Lonesome Jim", starring Casey Affleck and Liv Tyler, was shot here a few years ago. That and being the "Cruising Capital of the World" in the 70s and 80s are Goshen's only real claims to fame. Haha!

Wow, it's amazing to think that a whole two months has gone by since my last post. I'm not sure why I didn't write. A lot of stuff has happened, which I'll list out I suppose. Hmm. Most recently I shot a little bank commercial which will air in South Florida and Arkansas, did a couple web-site commercials, one for tequila (I know, funny, right?) and the other for a paper shredder. I'm lucky in that some of these spots play like comedic shorts and they happen to pay the rent. I'll share some copy if I get ahold of it.

I did a short film for director Ben Lumpkin called "Full Service", starring Ravi Batista, Erin Breen and myself. It was a wild ride about a married couple breaking out of a bad slump with the help of some very extreme circumstances. It payed really well for a short film and was great experience overrall. Ben's looking to submit it to festivals after the New Year - I'll keep you updated.

I've had a couple of really good theatre auditions lately and may be getting into a show after the new year. Looking forward to some quality stage work, after a couple rough shows last year. I'll let you know about that when it happens.

The Covenant Coffee project is through development and we're about to start pitching venture capital people with a new trailer and fabulous PPM, so send me your tired, your rich, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, so that I may lift my lamp beside the golden door... and put their money to work for us. Also, we're having a fund-raising event on Dec. 19th, so put it on your calendars.

Beyond that, I have a root canal scheduled next week in between rehearsals for another short film. Oh, I got involved with a new excercise phenomenon called yogging or jogging - I think the j is silent :). Haha, I know, joke poached from Anchorman. Anyway, up until two months ago, I made vociferous fun of running. Now I'm trying to outfit myself to do it in freezing weather. Bizarre. Makes me wonder what else might like if I try it.

Ciao! And Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

#11 - The Dark Cloud of Suck meets The New Face of Cactus

2008-09-17T14:17:00.000-07:00

In the buffet of life lately, I've been relegated to the excrement aisle.

Crap sandwich, please, dookie relish on the side, oh, and ass cakes for desert. In a two day period, my car took a dump, my computer totally croaked and I completely blew two auditions and part of a third. Oh, you're losing perspective, Jake, don't be so dramatic. Hmm. OK, if you expand the scope from two days to four, I also found out at the dentist that I need an $1100-crown on a molar which is decaying around an old filling.

At the same time, I won $150 from a Megamillions ticket I bought and, also, I booked some on-camera work pimping tequila on the web which'll pay one-and-a-half month's worth of rent. Oh, something wonderful, you might say! Hmm. A crap sandwich is still a crap sandwich, even with a little ketchup. The presence of these two happy occurences amid the aforementioned crappy ones begs the question...

What would have happened if I landed the lead in Scorsese's next great film? Or if I'd won the $100-million jackpot? Because in looking at the last week of my life, it seems like I have to pay for every bit of good fortune by eating twice it's equivalent in dung. I mean what, would everyone I know and love mysteriously die in a series of freak flip-flop accidents? Would the american economy tank to the point that my dollar bills aren't worth their weight in horse puckey? Wait, nevermind, that last one's already happening. Anyway, you get my drift.

Crikey.

#10 - Asterisk?

2008-08-27T04:51:00.000-07:00

I wrote the first part of this a couple weeks ago, but it still applies...

It’s a happy day for this actor and I feel like I need to document it because you’ve born witness to so many unhappy ones thus far. Both my agencies contacted me today with money coming my way. Geddes called me with a check from that City of Chicago shoot I wrote about my last entry. Stavins emailed to let me know that Iowa re-upped for six months on the lottery commercial I did for them last year.

Also, I booked a corporate gig for the end of the month. All told, I’ll be getting checks in the next few weeks that will total nearly three months rent. Actually, more like two month’s rent plus the back rent I owe now and the money I owe my roommate. So, minus my student loans and my credit card debt (and not to mention what I owe my mom and my dad, or what I like to think of as my future inheritance), I’ll finally be in the black this summer! Oh, jubilee!

For those of you following the story, we got some money for Covenant Coffee. Thanks to those who helped us out! With this installment of cash, we intend to shoot about ten minutes to be used in the investor packet. Production is the fun part of the whole process and I can’t wait to get on set! More to come on that.

I got a small part in a gritty feature called Miss Ohio, the story of a young, Midwestern woman who leaves her boring life to pursue the lights of an entertainment career. She runs into all kinds of smarm along the way and runs the risk of getting ground up by a ruthless world. I play a yuppie a-hole, the boss of her husband at the beginning of the film. It’s a one-day shoot for a single scene, but it’s my first feature film. I’m sure I’ll have something to write when it happens.

Other listings… Here is the link to the final cut of The Happy Man’s Pants, Kunal Savkur’s epic short we shot this freezing spring. Enjoy! http://www.vimeo.com/1564266 If you want to see it on a bigger screen with an audience, it’s being shown at Chicago Filmmakers/Film Culture Bldg., 5243 N. Clark, on Saturday, Sept. 6 at 8 pm, with a reception preceding at 7 pm. I’ll be at the screening in case you want some face time!

Speaking of face time, my improv class shows have begun. Our first one was last week, and it was a little rusty. I’m looking forward to the upcoming run, though, as we have seven weeks to work on our form. If anyone wants to come check us out, we’re performing Sunday nights at 7 p.m. at iO Chicago on Clark just south of Addison. Our group is called Cat Terrarium. Clever, huh?

Hope this finds you well as the summer winds down. Jesus, how time flies…

Jake

PS - I’ve been reading Steinbeck lately, Cannery Row, specifically, and am in awe once again with his prose. He’s so visual and simple in his approach but captures the nuance of character like no one else I’ve ever read. My favorite passage is on p. 86, where Mack and the boys are sizing up the house of the captain, whose wife is away. It’s an elegant portrayal of an unstoppable force meeting an immoveable object (immoveable when the missus is home, that is). Freedom vs. domesticity; chaos vs. order; a corn-whiskey-drunken frog hunt vs. white curtains and too-small towels. These pages are worth anything you’ll spend on the book.

#9 - Fat City Revisited

2008-07-20T11:16:00.000-07:00

I booked a commercial gig that shot last past weekend at O’Hare. I swear, most of acting is waiting, and that’s what I did, waited for over an hour in the international terminal for the film crew to get there from another part of the airport. When they arrived, the frenzy began. Two huge dolly carts laden with equipment and a dozen crew members moving lights, power cords, c-stands, a camera.

Jeffrey, the quintessential LA director, a small guy with articulate features, moisturized skin, and a slightly graying beard, congratulated me a hundred times and told me how excited he was and that he thought I was great. Tom, the producer from the agency with a forty-year-old smirk, asked me if I had a different white shirt and gave me an oh-well face when I didn’t.

Make-up and wardrobe, two very pretty young ladies, descended on me like quick, neat sharks, poking and prodding my face and hair and taping my not-quite-the-right-white shirt to my jacket, my collar down to my tie. Giving me a travel bag to wear over my shoulder and then taping something to that and then giving me another bag because that one wasn’t as good as this one.

Swirling around like a tornado, all the elements of the production made their way across the open terminal, coming to a rest in front of a row of deserted ticket counters, near a foot-long piece of yellow gaff tape on the floor which marked the starting line.

And then, we shot the shot. I delivered one line, “Asserting itself, with ever-growing insistency,” while walking about twenty steps (it’s part of a larger quote by Daniel Burnham, the architect from a hundred years ago – other actors do other lines). The DP, operating a steadi-cam, backed away from me as I walked. A steadi-cam is a harness-mounted system that allows the operator to move as freely and precisely as you possibly can with a bulky, 30-pound camera.

We did it about twenty times in all, and in between shots, one of the other producers or Tom would whisper in Jeffery’s ear and he’d bark orders, politely, if slightly dispassionately, to whomever needed the adjustment. “You’re happier, Jake.” or “Turn the light a little more toward talent and try to keep up.” or “Not that happy, Jake, and put a pause after ‘itself’ for emphasis.” or “Everyone slow it down, just a little.”

Every five minutes we had to “Hold for sound” as the security announcement played over the PA. Every eight minutes we had to hold for a train you could hear, ever so slightly, from the underground. And the whole while we’re doing it, passengers going home to or coming back from Mexico or the Philippines or China or Europe stopped and watched the hulla-balloo and then went about their business. It’s funny what a spectacle this work can be.

“That was perfect, Jake, now, do it with a more positive demeanor.” I did. And then, just like that, it was done in less than an hour. The crew and equipment evaporated in minutes, packing up and out to the next location. Another producer gave me $15 for parking and off I went. In a month or so, I’ll get a nice check that’ll almost cover my rent.

I’ll be sure to let you know where the spot shows up. Should be on a City of Chicago website or something.

Best,
Jake

PS – To illuminate the other side of my double life: One morning last week, my ex-girlfriend caught me rolling to Starbucks half asleep, dressed for a grubby remodel gig and looking like a dirty, dilapidated old rug from out of the basement, and there she was, in her car, clean as a bar of soap, her hair perfect, sipping a tea behind a warm tan and a cool pair of earth-tone aviators, smug, thrilled I’m sure. Humble pie, though it may be well-deserved, tastes a lot like rotten fruit on burnt toast with a side of kiss my ass.

#9.1 Fat City Revisited - Joker's Appendix

2008-07-18T16:25:00.000-07:00

The Dark Knight will win Oscars. It’s the most well-written superhero story ever, I think, with murky themes intensely relevant to today’s social and cultural climate. Heath Ledger delivered the most truthful lines in the movie with an intensity and depth unseen to date in the type of character he played. He, through the Joker’s lines, commented in many ways on the voracious system that had been chewing him up for years and, ultimately, spat him out.

Favorite line: “Funny thing about chaos… it’s fear.”

Also, I just went and saw Gonzo: The Life and Work of Dr. Hunter S. Thompson, the new documentary, and was sufficiently impressed to mention something about it. Both the content and the presentation of the Alex Gibney documentary were fantastic as a memoriam and as an imperative to those who would carry the torch of Gonzo into the murky corners of greed and repugnancy that thrive today. Isn’t “repugnant” a great word?!

Hunter S. Thompson served the purpose of deconstruction by peeling back the illusion and mendacity that swirled around the late sixties and beyond (he foresaw the travesties of American foreign and corporate policy of the Aughts on the morning of 911). Before something of value can be built, the tragic monolith of modern society must be cracked, Thompson’s work might suggest, and then broken and razed to get at the foundation which allows grubby, wealthy, white swine to better their kind and execute the vicious burn to keep others in their place. Interesting theory, huh? What a joker.

#8 - Dude B and the A-Hole Patrol

2008-07-02T13:36:00.000-07:00

I told you all about Flashpoint, the new film school downtown. Apparently they got handed a last minute project, so I received two five-page scripts to consider. For those of you non-industry types, film time correlates to a minute a page generally.

One script was from Matt Arauz, the young director for whom I recently did a two-minute hit man picture (copy on the way). The other from a guy I won’t mention, because I’m about to destroy him. I’ll call him Dude B

Both scripts were great. Matt’s was about a crossing guard who fancies himself a noire detective – a single, straight Walter Mitty meets a Jules Dassin Dirty Harry – and fantastic. The other was about a mob guy who gets tired of getting his ass kicked by the mid-level bosses he works for and decides to do something about it, also fantastic.

Dude B contacts me first, Thursday night at 7 p.m. I mention a couple of schedule things, a Sunday evening and a Tuesday evening, and I tell him that, if necessary, I could move and rearrange almost anything in order to do his film. He told me we could make it happen and that he’d work with me on scheduling because they really want me for the part.

At noon on Friday, I speak with Matt, tell him, Sorry, Dude B spoke with me first, we’re going to make it happen. Matt was bummed, but had a casting session set up for the afternoon. I change a couple Monday auditions with my agency, the one who hates me right now, in order to facilitate shooting Dude B’s movie next week and await his call for final scheduling.

Seven o’clock rolls around and Dude B calls me to say that they decided to go with someone else because of my scheduling things, precisely the things I told him I could re-arrange. It’s clear to me he had someone else in mind, because he didn’t call during the day to ask me about changing anything. So, now I’m out this picture and I can’t call Matt and say Oh, just kidding, I’m doing yours.

If I weren’t so enlightened now, I would have told Dude B about a special place I have reserved for him… Down the back of my boxer briefs on four-alarm chili day. Dude B is an A-hole. I just missed out on both films because this guy didn’t want to work it out and didn’t want to tell me about it until too late. These are student directors, but this happens all the time in the real acting world as well.

Where in hell does such unabashed douchebaggery finds its due? Justice, like Santa Clause, is a fairy tale designed to bribe idiots and children into behaving. So much for informed ignorance, or whatever the hell I blathered on about last week. Yeah, yeah, it’s probably a good thing I didn’t get cast this week, for whatever reason - Marty’s going to call or something. I’m working on it, but, hey, I had a lot of inertia before I decided to change direction. It’s a good thing I’ve got this outlet now, otherwise I’d probably go Harvey on someone’s ass.

Happy Fourth. Don’t blow anything up.

Ciao,
Jake

PS - My latest print ad, one for Solo cups, appears in the Everyday with Rachel Ray magazine, June/July issue, on the page opposite the table of contents. It's also in Good Housekeeping and Redbook this month. I’m the bleached out guy wearing the tight cords on the right. Thanks to brilliant photo editing, you can’t tell that the pants I’m wearing are practically painted on. The sizes I wrote on the stylist’s size card before the shoot didn’t reflect the start of my Fat Elvis phase back in February. It just looks like I have fabulous junk, right?

PPS - This past Friday, I auditioned for the part of a bad cop in an independent feature in Lansing, Michigan. It went really well. If I get it, I’ll have to spend some time in Michigan so hopefully I’d get some money for the role. If the role is right, I will do a B-movie. Somebody’s zombie lab partner who dies before the end of act one… not a good role. Priest who rapes a nun and makes her get an abortion… not a good role; I turned that one down this morning.

#8.1 - Dude B and the A-hole Patrol - Bonus Material

2008-07-02T05:49:00.000-07:00

Speaking of A-holes...

In trying to get money for the Covenant Coffee, the TV show I’m helping produce, I visited the card room at the Majestic Casino, a fine boat of questionable repute wherein patrons engage in games of chance. Craps, Blackjack, Roulette, Slots, to name but a few, and also, on the top floor in a huge card room, Texas Hold ‘em. The Majestic is docked amid the flotsam and jetsam that make up the industrial wasteland of Gary or Hammond, Indiana (I’m not sure anyone really knows which is which). Allow me to paint a picture…

The landscape is checkered with gigantic, old-wooden-barn-looking warehouses, most of which find themselves in one state or other of dilapidation, and also bland, squat, fat fuel silos in immaculate condition, protected by bleached-white walls and chain link fences. Cutting between them are a maze of single destination roads which twist around each other there, making it impossible to get where you’re going or home from where you’ve gone, or even down to the corner to get gas.

By the way, it’s damn near impossible to find a corner, any corner, let alone one that could be of some use. It’s all exit ramps and turn-arounds and access roads and drive ways. And, you have to have lived there for twenty years to know where the one gas station is - it’s in refinery land for god’s sake – they should gasoline spigots every twenty feet.

As close as I can figure it, Gary-slash-Hammond is Hell, or maybe just A-hole Nation. If that’s true, the card room at the Majestic is its penthouse suite. It’s kind of like a red velvet sweat shop equipped with blinking lights, cup holders and hair-sprayed, half-pretty dealers who don’t judge. It’s a haven for degenerate gamblers, who all speak sparingly with scratchy voices and hide behind a gray, grimy film, as if they’d stepped out of a shadow but couldn’t quite shake it all off. Half of them wear cheap sunglasses and smirks, most couldn’t make eye contact if their lives depended on it. More than a few resemble giant, flaccid penises, as if to remind humanity that their existence is, at best, the result some glitch, or, at worst, the cosmic sarcasm of natural selection. They all need a shave, a clean set of clothes, and a rap on the knuckles from a nun or personality coach.

The card room at the Majestic, for me, was like a return to the blissful ignorance of Plato’s cave, where mastery of two dimensions makes you a god. The windows look out on the industry lined harbor, reminding you that nothing but toil and strife happen outside the cave. So you sit, content to while away the hours playing 1-2, $200 limit; that is to say, the blinds are one and two dollars and the maximum buy-in is $200. If you don’t understand that, consider yourself better off for it.

What I’m getting at and hopefully I’ve lost readers like my mother and my landlord by this time in my garbled prose, but, um, ahem, I lost (murmur-murmur-murmur) dollars, which is a fair amount of money for me presently. Um, I blew all the birthday money from my mom as well as a small chunk of my rent on eight hours of Texas Hold ‘em. I was so CLOSE to winning big! Errrrrg. I know, I know, it’s as irritating to me as it is to you. It wouldn’t be so bad if I were lucky in love or something. Oh, well. I’m never going to gamble again. Really. Truly.

So now, I just need somebody loan me money to cover the remaining development costs for the brilliant new TV show, Covenant Coffee! Somebody. Anybody?

Not you again, you damn crickets…

#7 – New Leaf

2008-06-23T12:27:00.000-07:00

I’m no longer fat, y’all! I wasn’t really, I found out. I was actually suffering temporarily from a condition known as manorexic/actorexic self-image.

Anyway, I went to the gym today (first time in months), and I’ve dropped twenty pounds since the last time I was there, all from giving up soda, cookies, ice cream and every other thing that gives me pleasure to eat. So now if I work out regularly (big if, given my innate penchant and affinity for a sedentary lifestyle) I might drop the ten I need to get back to my fighting weight. Notwithstanding, I still intend to do nothing as much and as often as possible. That’s “nothing” in a more Buddhist sense of the word.

So, Covenant Coffee raised almost 10K at this point and we need another 25 to finish initial development, including legal fees, an installment to the writers and production costs to shoot the first ten minutes of the pilot. At that point, we’ll legally (and artistically) be able to solicit investments toward our overall budget. This is quite a process!

As the title of the entry might indicate, I’m turning over a new leaf. Last year I got involved in a short film project with the promise of a credited role for a buzzed-about, young director. I showed up on set and waited all night to find out that, no, I was not playing a credited role, but was, in fact, going to be an extra for a split second in the background of a fuzzy night shot. It really pissed me off and made me quite skeptical and cynical moving forward, to the point that I burned bridges with a few legit producers I came in contact with. In short I became an a-hole.

As of yesterday, I’m letting it go and moving forward with the informed naiveté needed to succeed in this business. I’ve gotten a new domain name, www.filmactorjake.com, and am building a site that should be up within a few weeks. Also, I’m putting together both a reel and an actor’s slate.

Other than that, I’m doing pretty well, having recovered fully from the infamous Big-Toe-Escalator Incident of three weeks ago.

Best,
Jake

PS - Peter Biskind is a writer who’s done a couple of books on the movie industry. I just finished Easy Riders, Raging Bulls: How the Sex-Drugs-and-Rock’n’Roll Generation Saved Hollywood and am halfway through Down and Dirty Pictures: Miramax, Sundance, and the Rise of Independent Film, and I read more than the titles (which are as long as novellas themselves and almost as ridiculous as some of my titles).

Anyway, first book covers the emergence of the director as auteur (that’s pronounced “oh-tur” – four years of French and I had to look that up) in American cinema which took place in the late sixties. In the wake of the French New Wave, young movie-goers were looking for something more than the tired, formulaic, big-budget spectacles coming out of Hollywood at the time. A couple rogue producers began to take risks, giving young, inexperienced filmmakers money to shoot their, then, unconventional films. What happened next is the birth of the greatest decade in American film to date.

Warren Beatty, Jack Nicholson, Dennis Hopper, Martin Scorsese, Francis Ford Coppola, Bob Rafelson, Bert Schneider and many more heavy hitters are mentioned here, most of them drug-addled a-holes at that time in the 70s. It gave me hope that even if I continue to be an a-hole, I can make it swimmingly in this business. Of course, I feel better when I’m a good guy. Blah, blah, blah.

Change comes sometimes quickly, sometimes slowly.

#6 - Midgetry and Other Blatherings

2008-06-03T17:41:00.000-07:00

Well, we wrapped “Happy Man’s Pants” and Kunal is finishing a final edit. This weekend there are two premier events for anyone who wants to come check it out. While I was doing the ADR (voiceover to fill in where original sound quality was lacking), I was able to see a few of the key scenes. The film looks great and is frickin’ funny!

You know you’re grown up when you see a lawyer who doesn’t specialize in traffic or barroom violations. Bryan and I met with an attorney who specializes in setting up entertainment operating agreements and private placement memoranda. He specializes in lawsuit-proofing. It’s the last step before we can start raising money for the Covenant Coffee project.

In other news, Josh and I have shelved the insurance salesman story for Josh’s passion project, the story of an undercover cop in a Midwestern city. Josh has already researched it exhaustively and done a short film with related elements. Presently, we’re setting up interviews with a couple ex-cops he knows, reviewing all the material we have and otherwise preparing to write this sucker. That’s all I can say about it right now, except that I’m going to play the lead and wear a full beard and dress like a bum. And I’m going to start smoking again in training for it.

Just kidding about the smoking, although, sometimes I really feel like stealing someone’s freshly lit cigarette and inhaling it all in one breath. I probably have the lung capacity to do that, now that I haven’t smoked in over two years. Crikey, I sure have been looking for an excuse to pick up the damned smokes again. Something has been conspiring against me: the two or three roles I’ve considered in the last year which would have required me to smoke mysteriously fell through. Hmmm.

So, anyway, midgets. Whenever midgets (or dwarves, or little people, or whatevs) appear in a film, you know the picture’s going to be freaky and surreal. It’s almost as if the only role a midget can play is an ominous reminder to “normal-size” people of some sin committed by humanity. I defy any of you, Peter Dinklage or anyone else to find me an example where this is not the case.

To be perfectly honest, I have no idea why I brought up midgets, except that my point illustrates stereotypes that exist in show business. Hmm, maybe we can call it the Circus Freak Syndrome. A bearded lady pretty much has her career laid out in front of her when she sets out to perform for an audience. Andre the Giant is never going to play a computer geek who creates the perfect virtual woman.

A lot of times in this business, actors play types rather than roles. It’s kind of a modern circus, a cavalcade of freaks, jocks, idiots and airheads, divas and mothers and sluts, geeks, strongmen and in-bred, pin-headed, pretty people with eyes to close together. Sometimes you can cross-over from one type to another, but most people are pretty much pigeon-holed. I think I’m a little jaded this week because I’ve had a dozen good auditions without a nibble. Maybe I need a cigarette. Or just a paying gig.

Anyway, my career choice annoys me this week. And I’m still fat. And I got a corner of my big toe caught in an escalator last week. It still hurts.

Best,

Jake

PS – I had a great little vacation over Memorial Day, visiting great friends in Providence and Boston. Bob and Bill are my two best pals from college. They each have more traditional careers and wonderful families with kids and houses and all the trimmings of a life I eschewed long ago. Not sure what I’m saying, but I am really glad today that I can play the part of uncle for four awesome kids in New England from time to time!

#5 – The Hypocrisy of Spandex

2008-04-26T15:21:00.001-07:00

April 24, 2008

Hey, people. Don’t worry, I’m looking into a blog site. Anyone have a recommendation?

Two weekends ago, we shot the exteriors for “Happy Man’s Pants,” that Northwestern film I told you about in my email #2 (if you’re new to my list and want to see it, let me know). So far I’ve had seven or eight full days of shooting on “Pants” and they’ve done another two or three with Hank Hilbert, the lead. The DP’s taken his time (to our chagrin occasionally, ahem) and it looks pretty fantastic.

Anyway, this past weekend was a frickin’ nightmare! Don’t know if you remember, but it was in the 30s and rainy Friday and Saturday, and we did twelve hour days outside on each, Friday at the Morton Arboretum and Saturday at Horizon Horse Farm out west of Barrington. It was like a M*A*S*H winter in Korea, only worse, because Hank and I had to ride around all day on a tandem bicycle wearing summery Indian attire. We did get the shots, though, and damn if they aren’t comedic brilliance. Snap, Kunal! There will be a screening of the finished product around the first weekend of June for all who wish to attend.

For the last couple months I’ve been involved in a project called “Covenant Coffee”, and the brain-child of my friend Bryan Cohen. It’s a web-series that takes place in a coffee shop and examines the twenty-something culture against the backdrop of big corporation values. A staff of writers is well into writing the 16-episode season, production people are in place for when we’re funded, and we’re almost done with the documentation we need to start soliciting investors. Industry people we’ve talked to say it’s got legs. I’ll soon be helping make pitches to venture capitalists as well as mom-and-pop investors; “angels” people call them.

If you can’t audition for big parts, help develop them, I say – when we get funded, I’ll play the honorary thirty-something in the cast, the manager who can’t figure out how he ended up managing a coffee shop instead of doing what he wanted to do with his life.
Also, I’m helping develop a script with my friend from Assignment 47 last Fall, Josh Guffey. It’s about an insurance salesman whose moral compass flares up, like sciatica or something, and he needs to figure out if he’s going to continue down the path he’s on, or come to Jesus, in a manner of speaking. We’re pretty excited about the character and a plot is really taking shape. We dig that it’s pretty relevant in today’s political and corporate climate, where, daily, profit trumps decency and we call it what Jesus would do (oops, a jab at the right just slipped out). We’ll produce it ourselves and I’m going to play the lead. More as the story develops.

Beyond all that, I’m just painting a house in the ‘burbs and going to auditions and class. I’m studying at iO Chicago and am now near the end of Level 4. It’s tons of fun and I’d recommend it to anyone who wants training or who just wants to have a good time.

Hope this finds you all well!

Jake

PS – I’m tucking this down here, so those of you who only read the first paragraph of my emails won’t see it. So, OK, I was on the set of a Flashpoint student film where I play the love interest of the female lead. And on a two-day shoot, I blew out the ass of not one, but, count ‘em, two pairs of dress pants, and not because of my formidable junk. Ahem. Over the last couple months, since my Christmas-cookie winter and the hungry season of my discontent, my pants have been warning me that this might happen, and two weeks ago, it did. Twice.

The first blowout occurred early, three shots into the first day, in front of the entire cast and crew. I bent over to move a marker on the floor, and… Lights, Camera, Action - RRRRRIP, there they went. Hilarity ensued and spawned a line of dialogue that became the theme of this shoot for me - I felt the need to sneak it in on the end of several takes. This line will litter the cutting room floor or, if sense of humor prevails, it’ll color the outtakes reel. Those of you who were there know what I’m talking about. I can’t put the line here, unfortunately, as my mother will probably read this whole damn email. Sorry. If a clip gets posted on YouTube, I’ll pass it on, for sure.

The second rip happened as I was packing up to leave after my final day of shooting. Thankfully, I was alone and I had a pair of husky jeans handy to change into before I said my good-byes and left. To those of you who were there and didn’t know this second rip took place, my humiliation is now complete. Feel free to share it with everyone else.

In any case, since two weeks ago, I’ve been on a diet of sorts. I gave up soda and sweets and have been vomiting after every meal. Kidding. About the vomiting, that is. No sugar has made me a little crazy. Before giving it up, I walked around all Zen-master-with-the-crazy-kung-fu, like the son of Buddha or something, but damn, if I’m not so ridiculously addicted the stuff that when it’s gone, I turn into Chicken Little. I walk around all day feeling like something’s wrong.

So… the sky is falling, but I’ve lost twelve pounds. Another few and I’ll be down to my regular fighting weight and I’ll be able to fit into my superfly ass jeans again. Just in time for summer. Yeah, summer is almost here!!!

#4 – B-Movie Madness

2008-04-26T15:19:00.000-07:00

March 18, 2008

Shortly after I wrote my last entry bemoaning how utterly broke I am, I got a phone call from Milwaukee telling me I got a part in the sci-fi feature I auditioned for a few weeks ago. So, I untied the noose I’d swung from my sturdiest rafter and tuned in for the details, which made me re-tie the noose and hang myself for real. After I wrote this, of course.

The character they cast me for was a grad student friend of the hero, a scientist. We escape to a fall-out shelter with a crazy professor after a meteor strikes the earth and releases dust into the atmosphere. The dust turns humans into murderous zombies when they inhale it. At the end of the first act, we venture out to find other survivors, I get infected, then die and turn into the first zombie seen in the movie to that point. The project was named, aptly, “Dust.” Exciting, right?!

Not so exciting was the production company, which seemed really shady and wouldn’t commit on paper to the things they promised me verbally. And they didn’t want to pay much at all. It was all very porno. NOT that I know ANYTHING at all about PORN! All I can say is… ahem, I didn’t inhale.
I value what I do and think others ought to do the same – if I’m going to work for them anyway. It’s funny, I turned down their paltry dollars and insulting terms and what happened? I booked two print ads back to back, both with very respectable bottom lines, which will keep me in rent for another couple months, when I get paid, that is, in another couple months. Karma wails!

One ad is a panorama shot for Sprint like the ones they love to do. I play a construction guy in the foreground telling everyone what to do. In the background are people (a cultural potpourri the U.N. would be proud of) milling about on the street, going about their business, and all of them are on their wireless devices. If someone were to put a title on the shot it might be something like "Chaos: Or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Isolation in a Crowded Plaza." This one'll be on the web or on a flyer or something. The next one shoots tomorrow and it's for Solo cups. It's some hottie model and me at a high class party and we're both drinking mystery beverages in red and blue plastic cups. I call it, "Some Hottie Model and Me at a High Class Party and We're Both Drinking Mystery Beverages in Red and Blue Plastic Cups." The title really captures the essence, don't you think? Coming soon to
a newsstand near you! I think it's national print again.

So I didn’t really hang myself, I’ve never done porn, truly, and I’m still broke and famous, famous like the golf tip of the week or like the book of the month or like the new baby in my large extended family. And, after tomorrow I’ll be infinitely qualified for that beer commercial I’m vying for this year. Think major ad campaign everyone! It’s so hard to be a man of substance when a gallon of loose change only pays half my rent.

Best,

Jake

PS – Shilled Bush Light anyone? Speaking of beer, although this relates only tangentially, my new nickname for Hilary Clinton is Bush Light, as I don’t see much of a distinction between her and our current corporate-sponsored chief exec. I’m supporting either Barack Obama or Ron Paul for the residency of the White House, depending on if I wake up hopeful or cynical on election day. If I wake up pleasantly surprised, I’m writing in Bozo the Clown, who, dead or noticeably absent, would do a better job than anyone I’ve seen in my lifetime.

See you in the funny papers!

#3 – Seventeen Seconds of Glory

2008-04-26T15:18:00.000-07:00

March 8, 2008

I really don’t know if the title has a thing to do with the content of this particular entry, but I like it so much I’m going to use it anyway.

As you may or may not have noticed, that Propel ad I did seems to have been run in everything from Rolling Stone, Entertainment Weekly, Us and a bunch of other tabloidy mags to The New York Times, USA Today, both Chicago papers. Now the benefit of all that is that everyone thinks I’m famous and while there’s a buzz (hopefully) I can parlay that into a read for a small part in the new Michael Mann film. Rumor has it, however, that they’re looking for tall, skinny, oddball types, and, well, leastways that’s what I tell myself every time I don’t get a call about it.

Additionally, I’m so broke right now a can’t even pay rent on time, let alone buy a copy of all those damned rags to send to the casting agents in town. Isn’t it funny how things go sometimes? Anyway, I’m not worried; I play the lottery and I know a big break is right in front of me. I’m thinking a beer commercial (or five) will be just the ticket. And, how poetic that would be, no?! Isn’t broke-ness liberating? All things become possible again…

I’d still rather be an actor than any damn other thing I can imagine.Attached are a couple on set photos from the lottery commercial. My talented co-star was Jen Wojan.

Best,

Jake

PS – Seventeen seconds. Hmmm. Guess I’ve got the better part of fifteen minutes coming my way, right? Don’t everyone get all weird, I’m just in a spot this week. Hope this finds you all well!

PPS – Something good just happened! I found my CD copy of Wilco’s “Sky Blue Sky.” Yes, I’m the dinosaur who still uses CDs. This album is like liquid blue sadness pouring over an ethereal ice cream landscape – it’ll change your life if it hasn’t already. Oh, happy day!!!

#2 – Happy Pants

2008-04-26T15:15:00.000-07:00

Feb. 2, 2008

See PS below for upcoming event…

Last weekend and this one right now, I’m acting in a short film by Northwestern film student, Kunal Savkur, who won a College Television Award last year for a different project. He’s gotten grant money from Northwestern to shoot the present one. The good thing about that is that he has a bit of budget, which means I can have M&M’s (but only the red ones, because I’ll vomit if I see a green or a brown one, aahhhh! That’s a joke… keep up).

In the film, I play Frederick, High Counselor to the King. Hank Hilbert, the talented Chicago stage actor and distant relative of Francis Scott Key, plays King Randy, a very depressed monarch who can’t find satisfaction anywhere. Frederick tries to make Randy happy by throwing him a huge birthday party. A nutty wizard (playing himself, no joke, the guy’s a nut job) casts a spell on Randy, telling him that he must spend one night wearing a “Happy Man’s Pants” if he ever wants to be happy again, hence, the title. A quest ensues, to find a happy man in the kingdom and steal his pants. Throw a couple cute sisters into the mix and, voila, you've got a great short film.

My first day on set, last Saturday, rocked! The crew is fantastic and we, mostly Hank, actually, got a ton of laughs. Today we experienced a little drama shooting a Fado, the Irish restaurant downtown, when the event lady there freaked out about her event schedule or something. She started crying and a crazy chef came in and kicked us out, making sure to drop a few f-bombs and such. Fortunately, we had what we needed, shot-wise before the meltdown. Kunal and the crew were exceptional in handling the turn of events and evacuating the premises. Ah, the joy of independent film making!

Last week after I sent my first email, two things happened. Well, one thing. One big thing. Heath Ledger was found dead in New York. What a frickin’ bummer. I absolutely love his work and was totally bummed when I heard the news. All I can say is damn, damn, damn, damn, damn, damn, damn, damn, damn…

The other day, I had an look-see for a print ad in which I had to bare a small part of my bum, playing the part of the big, sheepish guy who doesn’t quite fit into his hospital johnny. I call it the ass audition. I didn’t get the gig, but it is a funny example of how strange this business is. People make a living with nothing but their hands if they look good enough. Guess I should have listened to my mother and stopped cracking my knuckles as a kid.

I wanted to attach a small bit I did before the holiday, but can’t figure out how to make it work. You should be able to find it on the NPCA website – that’s National Parks Conservation Association. It’s a mock presidential campaign commercial for a big bear called Teddy Mather, a fictional candidate running on the platform of national parks conservation. It’s a fun little bit and for a cause I can get behind.

Most of you saw my lovely lottery commercial last week, so I thought I would take a little time and tell how that happened. Unfortunately, I’m nearly out of space, so I’ll figure it out next time. Be prepared for Seventeen Seconds of Glory.

Best, Jake

PS - There is a Guitar Hero fund raiser on the 21st at The Spot (Broadway north of Montrose) to benefit “Covenant Coffee” a web-series a friend of mine, Bryan Cohen, is producing. The event is a tournament, so bring your best Guitar Hero chops and win a prize! When we raise the money and begin production on the series I’ll be playing a very cool role. So… bring your friends, bring your enemies and bring $20 – open bar from 8 to 9. It’s for a great cause – my acting career.

#1 - Acting?

2008-04-26T15:14:00.001-07:00

Jan. 22, 2008

Hello, everyone, it’s me, your faithful friend, Jake.

What have you been doing, Jake, you may ask, since Fat City Mojo and The Summer of Jesus? Well, I reply, I’ve been being an actor in Chicago. Oh, really, and what have you been acting at? Most recently, I’ve been acting at being a model. Most recently, I’ve been acting at being a model, some would say that that's hardly acting, to which I would reply, You try fooling all those people into thinking you can model. Most recently, I’ve been acting at being a model, some would say that that's hardly acting, to which I would reply, You try fooling all those people into thinking you can model. Check out page 13 of the January 24, 2007, issue of Rolling Stone, you’ll find a frumpy guy, grumpy at having to do some extra sit-ups. Ought to give you a chuckle.

My posting has been long overdue, but now that I’m thirteen pages from sharing the cover of Rolling Stone with my , um, friend and colleague, Johnny Depp, ahem, I can write with confidence about my exploits in the commercial world. First off, I got paid pretty well, making about two month’s rent for half a day’s work. When I start booking one of those a week, look out, I can pay you all back the money you’ve loaned me over the years!

We shot that piece at a small gym in Chicago’s West Loop area, near Ukrainian Village I believe. The gym, whose name eludes me, is tucked into the middle of a crowded triangle block in an old red brick building. All the other brick buildings on the neighborhood’s other triangle blocks seem to lean in on each other for support and the narrow streets are worn and weary and cracked. The area has lots of character and little in the way of available legal parking.

Saverio Truglia was the photographer, a very cool guy with an even cooler name. He’s very meticulous, spending, no joke, about two hours setting up the simple shot. More light here, shutter that light, no, not that much, more than that, OK, perfect. Mmmm, no, move everything to the left six inches, um, make that a foot. Hollywood this over the patch on the hardwood and we’ve got to shoot now because the sun’ll be gone from that window in twenty minutes. He’s fun to watch work.

Note: I found out once we were shooting that I was supposed to be wearing the gigantic sweats because they wanted a beefy guy who looks like he used to box heavyweight before discovering Twinkies and the other joys of a sedentary lifestyle. And I thought I got cast because of my hotness. Right there in front of all the cute make-up and wardrobe girls making this happen, I had a junior high flush-faced flashback involving “husky” jeans. Hmm, yes, I wore husky jeans.

Humility strikes when you least expect it.

Anyway, I figure I’ve got a few good tales to tell if you’d like to hear them. I’ve been in a bunch of short films, a web series pilot, a few other print ads and a commercial for the Iowa Lottery. I’ll attach that one for you all to see. Seventeen Seconds of Glory (not what you think, geez). Hey, I think I just found my next story. Tune in next time when you’ll all say, Ooh, Jake, you’re the best and we love you! Ha, ha.

Hope this finds all of you enjoying your new year.

Best,

Jake

PS – I’ve given up a lot of my more acerbic opinions in the interest of a healthy colon. However, for those who tune in for my political