Don't Ever Tell Anybody Anything. If You Do, You Start Missing Everybody.

And so begins the second semester of my freshman year at New York University's Tisch School of the Arts. Looking back on the fall semester, I really could not have asked for a better start to my college education. In November, my original play The Certifiable was produced and staged by Tisch New Theatre. Later that month, I placed second in the annual Third North Ultra Violet Live (UVL) talent competition, performing contrasting monologues from Arthur Miller's A View from the Bridge and Alan Ayckbourn's A Small Family Business. I was also selected to join a small NYU improvisation/ sketch comedy group called The Spork in the Road, which creates comedic scenes and short films for the public.

But more than anything, I am most proud of the work I accomplished in my classes. In my Storytelling Strategies screenwriting class, Tisch professors Michael Stern and Ezra Sacks (writer of 1980's A Small Circle of Friends and 1986's Wildcats) guided me to completing the first twenty pages of a feature script that I have been preparing for some time. In my Performance Strategies acting and directing course, acting professors Keith L. Davis (Before the Devil Knows You're Dead, Law and Order) and Peggy Gormley (The Last Temptation of Christ, The Squid and the Whale, Bad Lieutenant) observed as I directed fellow students in a short scene, while also performing in other short scenes for directors.

Most excitingly, I directed professional voice actors for the radio drama production of My Jackie. The script, which I originally wrote during my stay at the University of Southern California at their four-week Summer Screenwriting Seminar in 2008, was chosen by my Sound Image class to be produced as a Radio Drama. My good friends Morgan Block, Andrew Griego and Shaun Kim served as the Producer, Head Editor and Foley Technician on the project, respectively, while I directed the voice actors in the recording booth and revised my script accordingly. My entire group is incredibly proud of the final product, which I will post on this blog as soon as I discover the proper way to embed an audio file. Our wonderful professor, sound guru Florence Barrau-Adams, was very impressed, as well.

After a very relaxing holiday break in Austin, I returned last week and immediately launched into my new classes, all of which are extraordinary. First and foremost, my Frame and Sequence class (which serves as a complement class to last semester's Sound Image) mandates that I take endless amounts of still photography shots around New York City, which has proved to be great fun for my friends and me on the weekends. I have several other fascinating classes, including a Introduction to Psychology course taught by Professor Edgar Coons, who is a major celebrity in the science world for investigating hypothalamic stimulation in rats at Yale University in the 1960s, and a film criticism and studies class called The Language of Film, taught by brilliant Tisch professor Rick Litvin.

As a Cohen Scholarship recipient, this past Tuesday evening I had the privilege of joining Tisch School of the Arts Dean Mary Schmidt Campbell, along with eleven other scholarship recipients, to a free performance of the new play written by David Mamet, Race, at the Ethel Barrymore Theatre on Broadway. I was extremely honored to receive this invitation, as Mamet is quite possibly my favorite living American playwright, and the opportunity to spend the evening with Dean Campbell - a major voice in the film and theatre communities - was a dream come true. Race is a fascinating entry in the Mamet canon, with stars James Spader, David Alan Grier, Kerry Washington and Richard Thomas in top form. After the play, Dean Campbell took the scholarship recipients to the front of the stage to have a discussion with two of the play's stars, Kerry Washington and David Alan Grier. Both actors had extraordinary things to say about working with Mamet, who also directed the production, and their own personal acting process. This was truly a memorable evening of theatre and a fantastic way to spend time with my peers, esteemed Tisch professors and two acting giants.

Last Friday evening, my good friends Morgan Block, Bobb Barito and I ventured to the historic Film Forum theatre to catch a screening of Michael Haneke's haunting and brilliant The White Ribbon. I had already seen the film once over the winter break in Austin, with my friend and fellow film buff David Walter, and I knew I needed to watch the picture again to absorb its disturbing resonance. The story of a small German village spiraling into chaos a few months before the outbreak of World War I, The White Ribbon is a beautiful black-and-white ode to the finest work of Ingmar Bergman, and deserves every Best Foreign Film accolade it has received thus far this awards season. After watching the film again, I immediately updated my Top Ten Films of 2009 list. Haneke's film continues to haunt me - it is undoubtedly one of 2009's best movies.

On Sunday afternoon, I volunteered to play one of the lead characters in a reading of a new play by Gallatin playwright Lucia Diaz-French called "The Danderforth Phenomenon." The play reading was hosted by playwright, screenwriter and Tisch Professor Selma Thompson in her apartment, which is just across the hall from my dorm room. The play is a beautiful new work about two siblings caught in the destructive aftermath of their parents' deaths. The reading was an incredible two-hour experience, allowing the other readers and me the opportunity to stretch our acting muscles, and simultaneously Ms. Diaz-French the opportunity to hear her work performed aloud by strangers, as she is still workshopping the play. The performance was followed with a Q&A with the playwright, and I was extremely grateful for the chance to interpret and perform her work, made possible by my always-hospitable neighbor Professor Thompson.

Beginning next week, I will start volunteering at the Tisch Talent Guild on Fridays in the mornings and afternoons. The TTG is the calling center for both cast and crew members for NYU student film productions, and it should be a great environment to meet aspiring filmmakers and other students.

I should mention that I am truly lucky to have such a terrific and supportive group of friends at NYU. Morgan Block, Bobb Barito, Jeremy Keller, Mike Cheslik, Jonah Greenstein, Alex Fofonoff, Jennifer Kim, John Anunziata - just to name a few - are some of the finest people I have ever had the privilege of knowing. Morgan, for her genuine kindness and being one of the most understanding friends I've ever had; Bobb, for his dry and seemingly effortless sense of humor (alongside the fact that he's just a damn good guy); Jeremy, for not murdering me after I voiced complaints aboutAvatar and excluded the film from my 100 Best Movies of the Decade list...I could go on. But these are truly extraordinary and talented people. And I am lucky to spend time with them and learn from them, even if we are just cooking smores on a Saturday night while watching the Screen Actor's Guild awards.

Speaking of the SAG awards, last weekend's major awards ceremonies - the Producer's Guild of America and the SAGs - were a breath of fresh cinematic air after the previous week's Golden Globe awards, an appalling celebration of mediocrity. After watching the Globes, I angrily wrote that "it's a sad day when great films like Up in the Air, Inglourious Basterds, The Hurt Locker and (500) Days of Summer lose to the likes of James Cameron and The Hangover." Thankfully, the SAG award for Best Ensemble was handed to Inglourious Basterds last Saturday night, and on Sunday the PGA honored The Hurt Locker as 2009's Best Picture. Hopefully, the Academy Awards will lean more in that direction - I don't think I'll be able to not throw something at the television if James Cameron were to defeat Kathryn Bigelow for the Best Director Oscar. (My other hope? Give the Best Actress Oscar to Meryl Streep for Julia and Julia or Carey Mulligan for An Education - I am simply dumbfounded that Sandra Bullock has won what she has for The Blind Side).

Today - January 28th, 2010 - has been a particularly sad day in the art community. First and most importantly, legendary author J.D. Salinger died today at the age of ninety-one. Salinger is best known as the author of The Catcher in the Rye, one of my favorite books of all time. Famously reclusive, Salinger has long held tight to his belief that Catcher should not be adapted for the screen - even director Steven Spielberg was unable to secure the rights. It was exactly two years ago that a friend and I wrote a letter to Salinger, explaining to him (in thorough detail) why we were the people who should adapt Catcher from page to screen. In the letter, we noted that if the adaptation was written and directed by people around the same age as the novel's protagonist, Holden Caulfield - we were seventeen at the time, just about the right age - then the production would avoid the Hollywood 'phoniness' that might otherwise come with an adaptation of Catcher.

Of course, he didn't respond - in fact, the letter probably didn't even reach the right address, as Salinger likely had his real address hidden from the public - but at least I can say I made an effort to adapt and honor the single most influential piece of literature I've ever read. In fact, everything I've written in the past two years owes something substantial to The Catcher and the Rye, sometimes very explicitly (in my original play, The Certifiable, the lead character is a modern-day version of Holden Caulfield, and the book itself is discussed in great length by many of the characters in my play).

In retrospect, however, I think Salinger made the correct decision by refusing to let The Catcher in the Rye become a mainstream film, or a film at all. Some books are cinematic by nature. Others aren't. One reason why The Catcher in the Rye is such an effective novel is that there's nothing else like it - there are pale imitations, sure, but nothing comes close to the brilliance of what Salinger did with that novel. And I think that's what a Catcher film adaptation would be - a pale imitation of something far greater and far more meaningful. Let the book simply remain as the book. I don't see how a film adaptation could expand on any of Salinger's ideas or offer anything more powerful than what the book already contains.

Salinger was a genius, and it's a testament to the power of his writing that The Catcher in the Rye is as popular and widely read today as when it was first published. I hope this very talented, influential and personal hero of mine rests peacefully in the afterlife. Thank you, Mr. Salinger.

The second piece of sad news today was the announcement that Miramax Films, which has been responsible for much of the independent film movement for twenty years, is being closed by Disney. Films released under Miramax include the incredible Pulp Fiction (1994; Quentin Tarantino), Gangs of New York (2002; Martin Scorsese), The English Patient (1996; Anthony Minghella), The Aviator (2004; Martin Scorsese), My Left Foot (1989; Jim Sheridan), Sling Blade (1996; Billy Bob Thornton) and The Piano (1993; Jane Campion). It's true that ever since the Weinstein brothers left Miramax, the studio hasn't exactly been the center of great filmmaking, but even still, it's closing today marks another blow to the great world of independent filmmaking.

As The Decade Comes To A Close, There Are Movies You Should See

At the moment, I am enjoying my return trip for the Thanksgiving Holiday in beautiful Austin, Texas. The past few weeks in New York City have been absolutely excellent - on Sunday, November 1st, Tisch New Theatre performed my original play "The Certifiable" in the Riese Student Lounge, and the result was very impressive. I can't thank the actors and director enough for their hard work on the production - like a proud parent, I videotaped the play and plan to show my recording to people who might otherwise have just simply read the play. Thank you very much, Tisch New Theatre.

Last weekend, my friend Morgan Block and I served as Production Assistants on a grueling fourteen-hour film shoot in an apartment on Third Avenue. Next semester, we are actually required to work crew hours for our final grades, but it was an excellent experience crewing on a shoot a little bit earlier than that. This particular shoot was for a group of sophomore filmmakers competing in a 100 Hour Film Race. Whether they win the competition or not, Morgan and I were lucky to spend a long time with some very knowledgeable and insightful filmmakers.

Admittedly, it's been far too long since I last wrote an entry, and in the interim period between my last post on October 30th and now, I have seen nine new film releases, ranging from middling to downright extraordinary.

I am going to start by discussing Lee Daniels' Precious: Based on the Novel "Push" by Sapphire, a movie with such ridiculously depressing subject matter that it shouldn't work as a motion picture, by any means. And yet it does, amazingly so, charged by a powerhouse performance from Gabourey Sidibe as sixteen year-old Claireece 'Precious' Jones, who is pregnant with her second child (after being raped by her father), teased and bullied in school, and abused at home by her monstrous mother Mary (Mo'Nique). Despite these tragic circumstances, Daniels has managed to direct a film that is powerful and hopeful. The movie aims for high drama, and Precious succeeds admirably. The performances are terrific across the board - especially from Mo'Nique, who takes what at first appears to be a violent, one-note character and surprises the audience by breaking our hearts with her sadness in the film's finale. Precious is suffering currently from critical over-hype (it's commonly referred to as this year's Slumdog Millionaire), but it's absolutely worth seeing, and one of the best films of the year.

If there's a better example of an auteur American filmmaker currently working than Wes Anderson, then I'd be very surprised. Anderson, the writer/director behind the great films The Royal Tenenbaums (2001), Rushmore (1998), The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou (2004) and The Darjeeling Limited (2007) is treating audiences to another whimsical and bittersweet tale of family and change. The main difference, of course, is that Anderson's new film, Fantastic Mr. Fox (based on the book by Roald Dahl), is entirely stop-motion animation. Many critics have argued that Anderson should have been making animated films his entire career based on the Fantastic-ness of his latest feature. Although I wouldn't trade any of his previous works for a replacement, I do agree that Anderson's unique style is extremely effective in the animation medium. Where else might you find a deadpan Badger voiced by Bill Murray, or a soundtrack to a children's film populated not by tween-y music but rather by The Rolling Stones and The Beach Boys?

As one of my friends described it accurately, Fantastic Mr. Fox feels like an improvised animated film. The characters are lovable and understandable to children, certainly, but in addition, an older audience is treated to Anderson's comically ingenious humor. There has truly never been anything quite like Fantastic Mr. Fox, in terms of style and animation. The movie uses all of the great revolutionary techniques of stop-motion animation immortalized in Henry Selick's brilliant The Nightmare Before Christmas (1993) and elevates them to an entirely different level. And, more than any other film this year, Fantastic Mr. Fox is the children's film for adults (don't get me wrong, children will love the movie - but I suspect I loved it more). Spike Jonze's Where the Wild Things Are belongs in this category, too, but whereas Jonze concentrated his efforts mostly on the darkness inherent in Maurice Sendak's children's story, Anderson explores both the darkness and the comedy.

George Clooney provides the voice of Mr. Fox, a thief-turned-father who lives in a foxhole with Mrs. Fox (Meryl Streep) and his son, Ash (Jason Schwartzman). When Mr. Fox goes back into the thieving game, stealing chickens from a group of vengeful British farmers, his family and friends come under attack from the farmers, who aim to destroy their foxhole and kill the foxes. Additional voice work is provided by Owen Wilson, Willem Dafoe and Michael Gambon - all Anderson regulars.

I've written many times on my love for actor Robert De Niro, the best actor of his generation and arguably the greatest actor of all time (I'll argue that, anyway). In recent years, I've been amused by his comedies and wowed at his one directorial effort (2006's The Good Shepherd), but I've been waiting for another seminal performance from the legendary actor. His latest film, Kirk Jones' Everybody's Fine, is a very good film with an excellent De Niro performance in the lead. The movie gives De Niro a similar role that Jack Nicholson played extraordinarily in Alexander Payne's About Schmidt (2002), and although Everybody's Fine isn't nearly as great of a film as About Schmidt, De Niro takes advantage of a very good role. As Frank Goode, a recent widower disappointed that his grown children cancelled their visit for the holidays, De Niro goes on a cross-country trip to visit each of his children separately. While the trailer for Everybody's Fine makes the movie look like a feel-good holiday schmaltz-fest, the movie is actually a moving character study, and in the final scenes, when tragedy hits, De Niro's performance takes a turn into powerful territory that the actor hasn't explored in years. Everybody's Fine opens on December 4th, and I highly recommend the film - in a perfect world, De Niro would receive his seventh Academy Award nomination for this performance.

There's an extraordinary picture playing in arthouse cinemas currently - Oren Moverman's The Messenger, starring Ben Foster and Woody Harrelson as Army officers assigned with the duty of informing the bereaved that their husbands, wives, sons or daughters have died in the line of duty in the Iraq War. Packed with powerhouse performances from Foster, Harrelson, Steve Buscemi and Samantha Morton, The Messenger is a small film that sneaks up on you - it's a powerful movie looking at soldiers dealing with the war on American soil. Speaking of Iraq, Grant Heslov's The Men Who Stare at Goats is inspired lunacy - a very funny wartime comedy about psychic spies, or "Jedi warriors," trained by the United States Army to defeat the enemy with their minds. George Clooney, Jeff Bridges and Kevin Spacey are absolutely hilarious as the men who form the nutty backbone of this military operation, and Ewan McGregor plays a incredulous reporter who can't believe his eyes. That The Men Who Stare at Goats is 'based' on true events makes the whole movie a great deal funnier, though no less outrageous.

The other films I have seen include Werner Herzog's hilariously over-the-top Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call New Orleans, starring Nicolas Cage in his best performance in years (Highly Recommended); Jim Sheridan's Brothers, a moving film which finally pairs look-alike actors Jake Gyllenhaal and Tobey Maguire as, you guessed it, brothers (Recommended); John Hillcoat's devastating The Road, based on Cormac McCarthy's Pulitzer Prize-winning novel, starring Viggo Mortensen and Robert Duvall in a somber film that portrays one of the bleakest post-apocalyptic futures I've ever seen in a movie, and yet ends on a hopeful note (Highly Recommended); and Richard Curtis' Pirate Radio, a lightweight but enjoyable 1960s comedy-drama starring Philip Seymour Hoffman, Bill Nighy and a really rocking soundtrack featuring The Rolling Stones and The Kinks (Recommended).

Fairly soon, I will begin my countdown of the best movies released this decade (or The 50 Best Films of the 2000s, as it were). It's hard to believe that this decade is almost finished, but with each passing day, another film critic or journalist seems to be weighing in with their opinion on the best of the decade. I'd like to join in, too.

I Am The Master Of My Fate, I Am The Captain Of My Soul...

Alongside Martin McDonagh's The Pillowman and David Mamet's Glengarry Glen Ross, Arthur Miller's brilliant A View from the Bridge is my favorite play. Unfortunately, I've never acted in any of the aforementioned plays, although I have consistently used monologues from each of them for audition material throughout high school. I first read A View from the Bridge as required summer reading for Mr. Billy Dragoo's Theatre II class the summer before my sophomore year of high school. As soon as I read the play, I picked out a particular monologue by the antihero Eddie Carbone, which I would use early on during my sophomore year for an audition for The Lovesong of J. Robert Oppenheimer. Last fall, I performed the same monologue at the 2008 Texas Thespian Festival in Fort Worth, and advanced to the Nationals competition in Solo Acting.

I mention A View from the Bridge because the extraordinary play, more than ever, is appearing everywhere around me. First and foremost, I am using Miller's work as my narrative text for my latest critical essay, which is an assignment for my class Writing the Essay: Art and the World. Secondly, it was announced only a few days ago that a revival of A View from the Bridge will open on Broadway beginning December 28th, starring Liev Schreiber as Eddie Carbone and Scarlett Johansson as his niece Catherine. Even if these two terrific actors weren't attached to the production, I'd still be first in line to see the play (as I've yet to see a professional production of this particular Miller work, nor have I seen Sidney Lumet's 1962 film adaptation). Schreiber is an actor I admire tremendously both onstage and on-camera - he won a Tony Award in 2006 for his performance as Richard Roma in a revival of Mamet's Glengarry Glen Ross, and so naturally I can't wait to see what he does with Eddie Carbone.

This past Thursday evening, I once again used Eddie Carbone's signature monologue from A View from the Bridge - this time, to a large crowd at Third Avenue North. My performance was one of seventeen acts competing in Third North's Ultra Violet Live (UVL) talent competition, a talent show featuring musical acts, spoken word poetry, original songs, interpretive dancing, stand-up comedy, and my solo acting performance. I performed two contrasting monologues - one dramatic piece, from Miller's A View from the Bridge as Eddie Carbone, and one comedic piece, from Alan Ayckbourn's A Small Family Business as Jack. After the judges deliberated, I was thrilled to be named the Third North UVL Runner Up, coming in second place behind a musical act performed by freshman Phoebe Ryan. As it turns out, Phoebe and I both advanced to the English Speaking Union's National Shakespeare Competition back in April 2008, performing at Lincoln Center as two contestants out of sixty selected from the entire nation. I wish her the best of luck at the NYU-wide UVL competition in spring 2010; if for some reason she is unable to perform, I will take her spot. As it stands, I received a twenty-dollar iTunes gift certificate from the judges, so I'm just thrilled with my new music purchases.

Here's a random fact - only five years ago, in October 2004, freshman Stephani Gabriella Germanotta competed in Third North's Ultra Violet Live (UVL) talent competition, and placed first with a ballad from the musical Wicked. The following spring at the NYU-wide competition, she ended up placing second. Today she is known as musical artist Lady GaGa. I won't pretend to know much about Lady GaGa and her music, but I'm aware she's a popular artist.

Today, I pitched my original idea for a Radio Drama to my Sound Image class, where our final end-of-year projects are audio dramas under ten minutes in length. I was very lucky to have my Radio Drama idea selected for production, which is already underway. The script I presented for the Radio Drama is a piece of rewritten history involving the assassination of President John F. Kennedy, specifically a "what if" scenario imagining if Mrs. Jacqueline Kennedy, not JFK, was killed in Dallas by Lee Harvey Oswald. I'm working with a terrific four-person group on this project, including my good friend Morgan Block serving as Producer/Casting/Talent Coordinator, Andrew Griego as Lead Production Editor/Mixer, and Shaun Kim as Sound Engineer and SFX/Foley Coordinator. As the writer of the Radio Drama, I am serving as the Writer/Director/Co-Editor.

In the meantime, I am excitedly anticipating the upcoming Sunday performance of my original one-act play, The Certifiable, by Tisch New Theatre. Directed by Mark Galinovsky, the performance begins at 5:00 PM in the Tisch Common Room at 721 Broadway. Having attended a rehearsal this past Tuesday evening (and planning on watching another rehearsal tomorrow afternoon), I am really impressed with the acting and staging of the play.

In the spirit of Halloween, I ventured to the IFC Center with some other film students tonight to see Lars Von Trier's incredibly disturbing new film Antichrist, starring Willem Dafoe and Charlotte Gainsbourg as a married couple grieving the loss of a child. Von Trier, no stranger to disturbing subject matter and emotionally and physically exhausting his audience, has made an extremely controversial and effectively despairing film. At its core, Antichrist is an arthouse movie from start to finish. It's almost impossible to critique critically, because although the movie is brilliantly made and features incredible performances from Dafoe and Gainsbourg, there are scenes in this film that are as downright disturbing and shocking as anything I've ever seen. And, more importantly, it's rather unclear what Von Trier is even trying to say with this movie.

I admire Antichrist a great deal from a filmmaking perspective, but its not meant to be entertainment. Roger Ebert notes that the film must be applauded for so effectively evoking a sense of despair, and although I agree with him, I can't help but think that Antichrist is so intent on unsettling the audience that, ultimately, the movie doesn't come anywhere close to the emotional power of Von Trier's Breaking the Waves (1996). I think Von Trier is brilliant, and in its own very twisted way, Antichrist is brilliant, too. But I'll never watch it again.

Reading the October 19th issue of The New Yorker, I'm thrilled to find that John Lahr writes fondly of Michael Grandage's production of Hamlet, starring Jude Law. Later in the issue, David Denby writes on Lone Scherfig's An Education and, specifically, Peter Sarsgaard's great performance. I'll act as Mr. Sarsgaard's publicist briefly, providing a really great quote from Denby:

"It's been apparent for some time that Peter Sarsgaard is an actor of major talent waiting for a major role, and he almost gets one in An Education...I have a feeling Sarsgaard could have stretched the role a lot further if the script had allowed him to, but, still, what he does is surprising...Sarsgaard makes it seem as if David, out of need, desire, and strength - and weakness, too - were experiencing everything for the first time."

I'll close this entry with a poem, inspired by the recently released trailer of Clint Eastwood's Invictus, starring Morgan Freeman as South African President Nelson Mandela and Matt Damon as the South African rugby star vying for the World Cup. The film doesn't open until December, but upon seeing the trailer, I was excited to hear the words of William Ernest Henley's poem Invictus, which very well embodies Mandela's unconquerable soul in the face of imprisonment. The poem is one of several vocal warmups Mr. Billy Dragoo regularly asked The Red Dragon Players to recite before performing onstage, and so the words hold a special place in my heart. Here is Invictus.

Out of the night that covers me,

Black as the Pit from pole to pole

I thank whatever gods may be

For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance

I have not winced nor cried aloud.

Under the bludgeonings of chance

My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears

Looms but the Horror of the shade,

And yet the menace of the years

Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,

How charged with punishments the scroll.

I am the master of my fate:

I am the captain of my soul.

William Ernest Henley

Five Feet From Scorsese and The Certifiable

On Thursday evening, I had the pleasure of attending a screening of Min Ye (Tell Me Who You Are), a film from Mali directed by Souleymane Cisse, at The Director's Guild of America Theatre. Following the screening (which was part of the DGA's Global Cinema Series), there was a question-and-answer with the director moderated by none other than Martin Scorsese.

In anticipation of this incredible opportunity to see Scorsese with my own eyes, I arrived at the DGA Theatre early enough to guarantee a front-row seat, along with my friends Morgan Block and Jeremy Keller. Before the screening, we surveyed the crowd and discovered that actor Steve Buscemi and my favorite screenwriter, Paul Schrader, were both in the audience, among many other distinguished filmmakers and actors. Min Ye is a fascinating picture about a polygamist in Mali and the emotional distress of his first wife, who has been unfaithful to her husband.

When Scorsese entered the theatre and took a seat only a few feet away from me, I was wearing a decidedly goofy grin, as if I were in some sort of fantastical dream. I'm not usually one to be "starstruck" by a celebrity, but Scorsese may be the sole exception. As evidenced by this blog, he plays a larger role in my life than he will ever know. I know - I am sure many film students around the globe would say the exact same thing - but still, actually seeing my hero with my own eyes was a truly spectacular occasion. Unbeknownst to me, Jeremy snapped a few pictures of Scorsese during the Q&A - and, as you can see above, my fingers are visible in the photographs. Does it say something about my love for Scorsese that I am extremely proud to have my fingers appear in the same picture as the great director? Perhaps it is a severe case of idol worship, but it's well-deserved.

In even more exciting news, I received word today from Tisch New Theatre that they will be staging and producing my original play The Certifiable this fall. They've already chosen a director for my script, and they are keeping me updated with auditions and rehearsal schedules. The play is scheduled to premiere on November 1st. I couldn't be more excited about the prospect of seeing my play onstage. I submitted The Certifiable last month on a lark to Tisch New Theatre, and I am thrilled that it has been chosen for a staged reading.

I recently attended a performance of Peter Sellars' Othello at NYU's Skirball Center for the Performing Arts, starring Philip Seymour Hoffman as Iago and John Ortiz as Othello. I found the production, which has been unfairly maligned by critics, to be an exciting re-imagining of Shakespeare's play. The four-hour running time led to many walk-outs during intermission, but Hoffman, Ortiz and Sellars created what I believed to be a fascinating modern take on the classic text.