When I was eight years old my mother showed me a documentary called Nightmare Factory, a biography of the legendary special effects artist Greg Nicotero. I remember being in awe—how could he possibly make a career and life out of making puppets, fake blood, and gore with his friends? This was the start of my love for filmmaking, and of the distraction I needed from my school life. I would cry every day before school and would have to be dragged out the door. The only way for my parents to stop me from totally panicking was to Put on a filmFor my dad to tell a joke so dirty that it would shock me so deeply that it would actually stop me from crying. I got in trouble in class once because I yelled “Johnny Fuckerfaster!”, the punchline to an incredibly racy joke about…how should I put this…a teenager named Johnny Fuckerfaster caught having sex with a classmate, his mother screaming “JOHNNY FUCKERFASTER” in shock, and Johnny responding with “I’m trying mom! I’m trying!!”And of course, the only other relief from my anxiety was the art of special FX and almost any comedy. In fact film not only stopped my crying, but it made me more confident. I would write short films that were ripoffs of movies that I loved and take the script to school with the intention of casting people from my class. I soon realized that no one wanted to be in a movie that couldn’t...
Published By: NoFilmSchool - Yesterday