King Me, Joss Whedon

So, it’s official — Dr. Horrible Sing-Along Blog is going to have a sequel. The story on the fan site goes as follows:

“There will be a second Dr. Horrible Sing-Along Blog, Joss Whedon said in a Thursday conference call with reporters to promote Dollhouse. The main question, he says, is whether he does it “on a shoe string again” or goes bigger budget and “invites other people into the process.” Either way, he promises that it won’t affect the storyline.”

Great news! Now internet shows are successful! Right? I mean, if Joss Whedon can do it, surely anyone can?

Okay, so maybe not. But, I have an egomaniacal idea for Joss Whedon and I think you should all help me out with it:

The Guild was doing well before Joss Whedon, but after Dr. Horrible, Felicia Day became the unofficial Queen of the Web Series. So, here’s my proposition…

Joss, I haven’t acted in a Hollywood TV show, so I need some help. Break a Leg was one of the original internet series and, well, it’s like, really funny and I’m almost positive that if you took a second out of shooting Dollhouse and watched it, you’d probably love the hell out of it. Probably.  Joss. Are you listening? I really think you’d be quite into it.

So, I’m asking you to use your significant powers and once again reach your hand into the messy drawer that is online entertainment world and pull me out (because I’m adorable), and cast me (king me.).

Because, see, Joss (Joss, pay attention!) — you’ve sort of made yourself a God in this space. You’re the successful one, you have the power to pick your Jesus and, frankly, I’m a Jew and I’ve put at least two computer tables together by myself (get it? Carpenter? Expect that kind of wit on set, Joss).

Honestly, Joss, I think it’d be entirely wrong for you to completely fill out the cast with Hollywood actors. They’ve got the work, and Felicia Day is dead (in Dr. Horrible, I think she’s still alive in real life) — I think I’m the rightful heir. Hell, I’ve even got a Felicia Day wig.

Can I sing? Well, not really. But, you know, I’ll figure it out and you’ll get the added bonus of being an incredibly cool guy whose casting web hopefuls into your web dynasty and elevating the importance of internet TV.

So, in short — Joss Whedon, cast me in Dr. Horrible, Part 2. I promise to impress you.

Okay?

Okay.

Just don’t cast those Burg guys — I hear they eat babies.

Here’s my email: yuribaranovsky@gmail.com

Friends, fans, enemies — feel free to bombard Joss with links to this blog.

Thank you for your time,

Yuri “Felicia Day” Baranovsky

The Sky is Falling?

You want to know the frustrations of a filmmaker? Here we go.

Here’s my day today:

-Meeting with agent. It went generally well but — if you’re not patient in this business, you’re probably going to stab yourself at some point. It took a few months for he and I to connect and we connected only for him to ask for a few script samples. I’m fine with it, I just — god, I hate the wait and I wish that my resume and experience spoke for themselves. I feel like they do, but… apparently not? If any agents are reading this, email me — I’m very funny.

-As I mentioned previously, we need to export, up-res and consolidate all of our videos unto one hard drive. To export, it takes like 4-5 hours — we have 67 videos. We’re using our friend’s work and his 10 computers to get them all ready (keep in mind, this has to be received in another country [HINT] by Tuesday) and today was the day we were gonna be done with them.

Here’s our little problem: One of the hard drives broke. No one can pick them up. Our friend who’s letting us use his work is leaving for the weekend (we need this mailed Saturday) and it’s increasingly hard for anyone with technical know-how (not me) to get to the office.

Why would the HD break? I don’t know. Why is everyone I know suddenly the busiest they’ve ever been? I’m not sure. But, that’s the luck of the filmmaker. Either you get lucky and snag a cowboy town, or your hard drives break for no real reason at the very moment you need them most. It’s like how printers will work for years… until your final is due — then, all of a sudden, there’s some kind of error you’ve never heard before and every Kinkos employee is on strike.

So, in about an hour, I’m going to head to San Rafael — an hour bus ride from my house — to try and grab the HD, as our friend is currently consolidating the vids all by himself (while also doing the work he actually has to do for his company). The idea is that it’ll all be done and none of the files will be corrupted or broken…

…except, if you’re a filmmaker, you’ll know that they’ll be both. And the building will be on fire. And the hard drive will be allergic to my Jewish fingers.

Fun day!

-New thing! I just found out we may have gotten a quick shooting gig for a company… except we’d have to do it this weekend — along with checking 60 continuity scripts, mailing the hard drive and finishing the Twitter videos.

Oh, one final note — it’s been officially announced, I’m going to be writing a few episodes for the show, TEMP LIFE — some more details here: http://news.tubefilter.tv/2009/09/10/spherion-backed-temp-life-re-staffs-for-new-season/

Okay, I’m not sure if this blog makes any sense or is well-written at all but that’s your update for today. I’ll let you know how it all goes sometime… soon.

In the meantime, wish me luck and hope that I survive this weekend!

Thanks, guys!

Of Agents, and Networks, and Pumpkins, and Things

Today’s blog is going to be a quick one — this is partly because I have almost no time to write and partly because Liz Shannon Miller is too busy carving Yuri-shaped pumpkins and then eating them (for their soul) rather than responding to my response on the web series business.

Or maybe she doesn’t want it to become an endless back and forth which never really gets solved because, really, there isn’t much of a solution, is there? Until I think of one. Which I will — but I’ll get into that later.

Right now, a quick rundown of the week:

-I have a meeting with an agent tomorrow. An agent at a big agency. I’ve been trying to get an agent for like, 3 years, and most of them don’t respond while others respond for a little while then, I imagine, get murdered or something because it’s the last I hear from them. Anyway, I have a phone meeting with an agent tomorrow and I need you all to cross your fingers and send me good wishes.

Except Liz, who I only ask to make a smaller pumpkin and title it, “Yuri’s agent” — and then eat both of us.

I might be very happy or very bummed out tomorrow — I’ll chronicle either one, ’cause that’s just the thing of this thing.

-I’m going to be at the Twestival SF on Friday night — say hi if you’re there and you see me. I’ll be dressed like Justin Kan from JustinTV. Our production company, Happy Little Guillotine Films, is donating a 30-second promo for their silent auction. This makes me happy — it’s a bit of extra work and we’re already swamped, but the money goes to charity and I like helping people — especially kids. Though, the kids we help are required to wear Break a Leg shirts after we help them (good investment, right?)

-Speaking of Twitter — we’re almost done with our Twitter videos. They turned out quite fun. If the company is cool with it, I’ll make sure to post them here.

-I’m going to be writing a couple of scripts for a web series that isn’t of my own creation. It’s a good, quick gig and a good show, so — stay tuned for more news on that.

-I saved the best for last: we got the contract from the network! Woo! It’s signed and there aren’t any added clauses like they’ll own us (we did have to sacrifice our camera guy in their CEOs name, but, whatever), so, good! We now wait for all of our videos to export — which is taking 4-5 hours per video, for 67 videos total. Our friend, Sam Long — the best person in the whole universe — is letting us use his work’s ten computers to get it all ready.

The due date is September 15th — hopefully, we’ll have it all done and I can start announcing the news as early as this month!

Okay, I’m off to eat, play hockey, and look through 60 continuity scripts for errors.

I’ll write more soon.

Filming Notes: Twitter

Before I dive into my filming notes I’m going to mention two things:

1. I’m going to start updating my blog at least twice a week. So, check back often. And comment — I love your delicious comments.

2. Go buy Twitter Wit — a book by Nick Douglas who played Nick Shiny in Break a Leg and a good friend of mine. I’m also in it, briefly.

Okay, are we on board? I think we are!

Here we go…

So, we’re working with a company to create four short satirical videos about Twitter. It’s the hip thing to do and we’re nothing if not hip, right?

No no, I’ll answer that — right.

Filming anything is a learning experience. I know it sounds cheesy, but it’s true. That said, we’ve spend the last week and a half filming these Twitter videos and — perhaps to save any of you filmmakers trouble in the future — I’ve decided to write a few lessons learned.

Oh, and don’t worry, non-filmmakers. They’re funny and stuff.

Okay, let’s do it.

Lesson #1: If your actress is allergic to gluten, you probably shouldn’t cast her in a scene where she has to devour 8-9 cupcakes in a row. Also, once you realize the footage didn’t work (and killing her love of cupcakes forever — sorry, Daniela), you probably shouldn’t cast another actress… who is also allergic to gluten (…sorry, Sidrah).

In general, just don’t cast people allergic to gluten (sorry, Gluten-Allergic People).

Lesson #2: Always, always, always ask around for locations. Doesn’t matter what you need — if you ask enough people, someone will say yes. Unless you’re in LA, in which case, someone will say yes after you show them your insurance papers and your checkbook.

But I digress.

Ask everyone. We needed a store to shoot in — we asked two places. The first one felt so bad about saying no that they actually gave all of us (5 in all) free T-shirts (I would really, really advertise your store right now but I completely forgot the name. I’ll remember, don’t you worry!) The second one said yes immediately and let us light a corner of the store to get the scene done and even turned off their music.

Just ask.

Lesson #3: Have the nicest person in your group ask. If he has big puppy dog eyes (in our case, Justin — or, if you watch Break a Leg, Chase Cougar), they’re going to get you in.

Lesson #4: If you need a bar owner and the bar manager comes up to you and calls himself Uncle Dan to the point of actually having it written on his business card, run, run away. Don’t listen to him wax douchetic about how much more he knows than you about film.

Lesson #5: If it’s your friend’s birthday (happy birthday, Dashiell!) and he happens to be an integral part of your production team, thank him like this:

a. Surprise him with cake during the shoot, which happens to be his birthday.

b. Alert him that for the later scene, he’s going to have to be in bed with a girl.

c. Alert him that you can’t actually get a girl for the later scene, so you’re using your other friend in a blonde wig and a bra.

d. Alert him that there will also be another actor,  an older actor, who’ll be dressed in chaps and have a whip (thanks Skip).

e. Film it for the best 27th birthday present ever. Ahh, the memories.

Lesson #6: There’s a sexual fetish that’s apparently getting popular where men inject their testicles with saline to increase their size temporarily. I know, it’s not film-related, but, you know, I want to keep you in the loop.

So, saline up.

More blog on Friday, hopefully!

-Yuri

Tags: filmmaking, twitter, web series

Signed Network Contracts Make Yuri Happy

NOTE: Jamison Tilsner and the guys over at Tilzy.tv were kind enough to do a write-up on this already: http://www.tilzy.tv/break-a-leg-gets-network-deal.htm — thanks guys!

You know what the best feeling is?

I know what you’re going to say, you’re going to say it’s being oiled up by Sinead O’Connor (remember her? She’s bald!) while the large woman that makes people cry with her surprisingly good singing (how can ugly people be so talented?! I thought talent resided in stupid pretty people like everyone on The Hills!) on Britain’s Got Talent croons “What a Wonderful World” to you as she sways slowly in the wind like a mangled Oak Tree.

…but no. That’s not the best feeling. It’s close, but it’s not the best.

The best feeling is when, after a long time of working on a project, you sign a contract that was sent to you by one of the big networks.

It’s a slightly odd contract.

And I’m not quite famous (yet).

But it’s a contract and, when we release the news to the world, will hopefully get a lot of attention for the show and our production company.

So, today… today was a good day.

Except now I have to make sure that they not only send me the signed version back but that they also don’t get our footage and respond with, “What the hell is this? We thought you were The Guild!”

I’ll keep you updated.

Tags: break a leg, contracts, film, filmmaking, web series, yuri baranovsky

The Rant of the Web Series Creator

There are days you wonder why you do this. You sit around, perhaps in your cubicle, perhaps in your parent’s basement, perhaps in your one bedroom, roach-infested apartment and you think to yourself, “I should’ve been a hooker like mom said.”

The thing is, there’s no rationale behind being an artist. In this case, there’s no rationale being a web series creator other than, this is just the blood that you bleed.

There are days where nothing works out. Take the last two weeks in my world: we pitched Break a Leg, Season 2, to a very large advertiser (no names, but let’s just say you’ve shaved your pubic hair while humming their tagline) who seemed very interested. Unfortunately, it took roughly two months for us to find out that they weren’t so much into doing comedy anymore. Shaving, it turns out, is serious business.

I’m tired, I’m underpaid, I’m overworked and every job I do is a risk. Do I shoot a new show? Do I shoot a show for someone else? Do I go back to school? Do I start a blog? Which flying, arching, spinning ball that I’m juggling is solid gold and which one is an old man’s testicle?

A while ago, CBS Interactive was extremely interested in funding Lurker. A show that we wrote that I’m quite fond of. They were interested, they were excited, they were pushing for it — then they realized they probably couldn’t fund it. Which is too bad — I love the CBS brand, I love what they do, and I think Lurker would’ve fit them like a well-manicured, well-written, shining gold glove (and not a shining old man’s testicle). It was a punch in the gut — I really thought that one might work out.

I’ve never doubted that I wouldn’t make it, is it arrogance or is it the reason I’m still doing it? Whatever it is, I’ve gone too far, done too much, worked to hard not to make it, so I’ll either Van Gogh it or I’ll Beatles it and I’m hoping for the latter. God, am I hoping for the latter.

A big Break a Leg deal is in the works and while we’re learning a lot, the preparation to get ‘er done is like trying to swim swiftly through swampland. Every time we push forward, we hit a wall with another problem. So much work and so much frustration and a gnawing, biting, stabbing fear — what if this falls through?

A big Break a Leg deal is in the works and I tread carefully, I tread as if I’m surrounded by mines and I’m John Goodman, I tip-toe and hope and pray and beg and think — just work out this time. Over a dozen of our amazing fans are writing ‘continuity scripts’ for us — a tedious process, with 60 needing to be completed and our team being too small to finish them all. I worry about it not working out, I worry about the deal not being as big as I thought and then I step back and I think — our fans are working on continuity scripts, we’re doing a big deal with a network — these are words I never thought I’d say or think or write in my own fancily-designed blog. And then I think, wow. I never thought I’d be here.

There are so many maybe’s on my desk, in my email, in my brain that it feels like I’m a fish caught on a hook that a fisherman can’t, for the life of him, reel in. We’ve all been here — every single one of us pursuing this career have been here. We’ve waited for emails, we’ve waited for phone calls and we’ve nodded quietly when they finally came with rejection letters — it’s fine, we said, we’ll try again, we said… it feels like being stabbed in the eye a little bit, but that heals, and like idiots, we rush back in and wait, and wait, and wait, because maybe..

I take a step back and I look at the work and dammit, I’m proud. My show still makes me laugh — I’ve seen it a million times, and it still makes me laugh. Can it be better? I wouldn’t be an artist if I didn’t think it could. Am I proud of what we’ve done? The maybe’s and no’s be damned — there ain’t nothin’ in life that feels quite like a yes and it’s worth all the rejection in the world. Unless, of course, that yes is your acceptance letter to a Concentration Camp (it’s okay, I can joke like that, I’m a Jew.)

There are days you wonder why you do this. You sit around, perhaps in your cubicle, perhaps in your parents basement, perhaps in your one bedroom, roach-infested apartment and you think to yourself, “Well, what else do I do?”

And then, only then, you realize you’re an artist.

…and most artists get famous after they die anyway.