Showing posts with label Hard Luck. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Hard Luck. Show all posts

Monday, January 17, 2011

Hard Luck in Middletown

"Some people go to church on Sundays, others they pray at home. You tell them that there ain't no God, that they're better off standin' alone...." - Social Distortion, Bad Luck

Early in the morning, before the Priests woke up for their weekly battle against the modern age, we gathered in the Shadow Room in Middletown. Maybe this is why the Priests are having such a hard time - this group of thirty or so would rather be holed up in a bar with black plastic covering the windows at 6:30 am on a Sunday than even remotely consider going to a church.

Sure, it sounds gritty and romantic, but this wasn't beer drinking time at all - this was grueling labor. Getting the scene just right, prepping the players. Making sure we could say Action when the price talent arrives...

So, for the second weekend in a row we splattered the walls with blood, discharged firearms within city limits and abused ourselves in profound and life-changing ways. At the end of the night I put on some BDU pants, a blank white mask and a knit hat, then stormed the bar to murder a well-known Professional Wrestler - but nobody in Middletown thought any of this was odd.

Tuesday, January 11, 2011

Hard Luck in Waterbury

Another weird weekend - on the set of Hard Luck with a Hip Hop guru from Hollis, Queens...

The city of Waterbury is architecturally immune to snow removal, or at least negligent. Cars moved at unnatural angles with no traction to speak of. Pedestrians, overwrought with emotion, unable to identify snowed-over landmarks or read street names threw themselves into oncoming traffic. Bums foraged for warmth, the wind having blown away their newspaper blankets. Nine AM on a Saturday, this city of filth looked strangely clean... quiet.

Inside the Palace Theater, it was another situation altogether. From the street, it looked empty - but walking through the front doors, something was happening. Lights everywhere, casually dressed people behaving professionally. Men in evening wear and out-of-context hats posed for the enormous production camera which shot dramatically up - from the floor. All this against the backdrop of a long-gone style and glory - the Palace. A fitting name for such a place of carved wood and high-gloss marble - a gold tooth in the ghetto.

Later, shots would ring out in a suburban basement, there would be blood everywhere, the hum of a snow blower and the banal bark of a foamed-mouth dog would elicit murderous rage and contemplations of poisoning from even the most mild and stable of us as we sat in the kitchen and tried not to move or talk... But there in the Palace Theater, all was smooth and easy.