Posts Tagged ‘acting’

Acting Showreel–2010 update

Wednesday, December 22nd, 2010

I’m just throwing this up to point people to who may want to see this on YouTube and not my site (Vincent Eaton), which has more info on it about my acting.


Click here to have an actual look at the video….


Sneaking it out when less folks are around during holidays…

Video – The beginning of Max Dix, Zero to Six, excerpt from the staged play

Wednesday, May 5th, 2010

Another short segment from my play, “Max Dix, Zero to Six”. It can only give a taste of the feel for the production. It is the very beginning of the play….


Click HERE TO SEE BEGINNING


Some stills from this excerpt:


All actors of Max Dix on stage at beginning


Pregnancy problems


parents adore their newly born infant


Max Dix proclaims he is alive & happy to be


Parents try to bribe their child with nonsense


Child get penis circumsized


Child gets baptized a Catholic

Video – Max Dix, Zero to Six, “The War in the Living room”, excerpt from the staged play

Thursday, April 22nd, 2010

Another short segment from my play, “Max Dix, Zero to Six”. It can only give a taste of the use of video work with actors. This concerns two brothers (as children) listening to their parents fight in the next room. Then the father leaves….


Here’s the link to the video.


Here’s another segment: The Soap Opera Scene.


Here’s some stills extracted from the video:


War in livingroom-1


War in livingroom-2


War in livingroom-3


War in livingroom-4


War in livingroom-5


Hope you enjoy. Thanks for visiting.

Max Dix, Zero to Six, video clip, The Soap Opera Scene

Wednesday, March 31st, 2010

Isabel Walsh, Mehran Khalili, actors, Max Dix Zero to Six


In 2008, I wrote and directed a play that went on to win a couple of national and international writing awards called Max Dix, Zero to Dix. A modest video was made out of two performances, and I’ve taken the decision to start posting some snippets and scenes of it.


The quality of the videos does not live up to the quality of the acting, but I hope generous viewers will be forgiving. The video was shot over two separate evenings in front of an audience during its run in Brussels, and sometimes the lighting, the cuts, the grainy images, aren’t all they could be. Yet the videos will certainly give a taste, and one hopes, pleasure, in what was presented.


Scene from the play, Max Dix Zero to Six


I haven’t spoken at length about this play because there hasn’t been a need or an urge, but perhaps in time, and with interest.


CLICK HERE TO GO TO THE VIDEO


Soap Opera Scene 1


Soap Opera Scene - Vincent Eaton play


George Taylor Memorial Award in the UK's National Drama Festival Association Playwriting Competition for 2008


Verulam award for best original play, Festival of European Anglophone Festival, Stockholm, 2008



The movie I was in is out – “Tombé sur la Tete”

Sunday, March 21st, 2010

Tombé sur la Tete” was this TV movie for French television I acted in a bit part last Autumn/Winter 2009. I got the local Brussels TV Guide this week and saw it was premiering on local TV on Sunday afternoon. Never a good sign.


In fact, this magazine I get had a wretched review in it (French only):Tombé review


Worse, it doesn’t mention me. But then, I’m having problems with the Belgian production company over payment, so maybe I’m being punished for not being easily exploited (yep, worker’s rights fights on!). The film was shown today, as I write, in the middle of a Sunday afternoon, in Belgium (never a good sign, like a major film going straight to DVD), from 14:35.


Tomorrow (March 22) the French are broadcasting it on TF1, their Big Deal commercial channel, at 20:45. Here’s the official listing: Tombé in tv schedule I’ll record that one and judge how wonderful I am, in my bit part.


I got the gig through a casting call. One of the few times the director wanted to see me back (usually I get the job straight off or never hear back). He was worried about my French, I had to speak French, and he wanted heavily accented French from an English speaker and I told him I was his guy.


It was a full day’s shooting, in Brussels, but acting as though we were in Paris — cheaper here to shoot in Belgium, tax breaks.


The main actress, who I did not know, was Michéle Bernier. We chatted some, she tried out her okay English on me. I was playing her art dealer in the movie, who encouraged her during lack of sales. Only when we ventured out and people came up to her throughout the day to ask for autographs did I understand she was a big deal outside my limited universe of French TV stars.


One of the reasons I quit television in Hollywood at the beginning of my adulthood was due to the hurry-up-and-wait that is all films. Yet, even though or because we were working on a low budget, things clicked along.


Here’s one of the make-up spaces:
make-up 1
Privacy…yes….
make-up


The changing rooms were very make-shift. In fact, they were large cardboard strips propped up. Here’s the wide view of the three “rooms”:
Changing room 1

Changing room 2


And here’s the seat to sit and change upon!
Changing room 3


tv equpment all over street from truck There was lots and lots of stuff to run a few short scenes, as always.


And even more lots and lots of stuff … trucks full….
Various truck with all sorts of stuff for the day shooting


Here’s the view from “my gallery” to the crew across the street for a long shot (establishing shot).
My gallery waiting for long shot


The crew, across the street, waiting for the word “Action”. The director is the only one seated, of course!
Cerw waiting to shoot with director seated


Hot shot camera.
camera


SNACKS!!! Yum-yum in a yuck-yuck sort of way…. snacks for the roving crew & cast members - junk food
Snack table 1


Floor manger managing extras
Above, the floor manager managing the extras who had to walk back and forth at precise moments. Below, cars passed by, but with French license plates:French licence plates


During a break, I had been eying a guy brown bagging and sucking on a bottle, watching from a distance. For some reason, he picked me to come over and audition. He came over to me and without preamble, began shouting some decent though slurry opera at me. I had the camera in my hand and took photos without him knowing it.
Drunk guy singing 1Drunk guy singing 2Drunk guy singing 3Drunk guy singing 4Drunk guy singing 5
When he completed his aria, he bowed and walked, weaving, off.


me actress director At the end of the day, I got this shot of myself, actress-star Michèle Bernier, and director Didier Albert.
Some people like to know this sort of thing: Michèle was as kind, natural and unpretentious as could be; most of my scenes were with her, and there wasn’t the touch of diva about her. A professional doing her job, and wanting to do it right.
The director, I was told, had been difficult and impatient, and had been yelling some during previous days. He did not raise his voice to me. After the shoot, the production assistant, who I knew from another movie (still in post-production — lots of special effects) told me, “You had him eating out of your hand.” Whatever. He kept smiling and encouraging and liking what I did. Just corrected my French some.


A few months later, I had to go up to Paris to dub in one sentence that the director wanted clearer, and record a new voice mail necessary for a plot point. Here’s the outside of the post-production studio.

re-dubbing location 1
Closer.
re-dubbing location 2
Closer yet.
re-dubbing location 3
In there (below), through those doors and down.
re-dubbing location 4


Here we are, under the ground, in the studio, some offices, a door leading to the dubbing studio (I spent too many young years in such places and they creep me out if I stay there too long).
re-dubbing inside studio reception - 1
re-dubbing inside studio reception - 2


Here’s the dubbing studio. The screen, the microphones, the recording board. There’s a line of dialogue that goes along the bottom edge of the screen, and you say the words as they hit the end line to get the lip motion right.


re-dubbing - looking at screen
re-dubbing - me over shoulder at mike
Over over my shoulder (above).
re-dubbing - recording board
re-dubbing - projectionist


This is one of me, standing at the microphone, ready to do my dubbing (photo taken by the director, Didier Albert, who spontaneously offered. I smart-assed him, asking whether he had any experience with cameras and framing).
re-dubbing - me a mike


Everyone was satisfied, except, it seems, the reviewer at the top of this blog…

Story – Pigeons

Monday, January 11th, 2010

Pigeon


Download and read.
Pigeons


Watch it.


Or read it right here, right now:


1.
Occasionally, driving down my city streets, I come upon pigeons. Right there in the road. Marching back and forth. In the middle of the street where there is absolutely no food, no grass, or any kind of statue to sit and shit on.
It makes no sense to me at all why they would chose to hang out in the middle of the street, dodging oncoming cars. Right there in front of my car and me. Pigeons….


2.
Some pigeons wait until the very last second to hurry on their short legs, fly up at an angle, to get out of the way of my car. I have always thought this is weird. I mean, why wait? Why not take off when you see my car coming? A car is pretty big, and it arrives from a distance. The pigeon – it’s a bird, it’s got good eyes – it has time to take in the approaching object – big, heavy, wide, rushing at them – they have time for some mental process to kick in and tell them, “There’s something big coming at me, I better get out of the way now”. Not, “I think when this big object coming right at me is just a few feet away, I’ll do something.”
Like a pigeon death wish. Or stupidly. Or a denial of reality.


3.
I made a reason up for them. For this behavior.
I figure pigeons are playing a dangerous game of chicken with cars because it proved their pigeon bravery to members of their gang, or clan, or flock, or whatever.
It’s probably some rite of initiation in order to get accepted into some pigeon secret society we humans have no knowledge of. The initiation rite is that they are required to go into the middle of a city road and face down oncoming cars while other pigeons, there to bear witness and testify to the success or failure later, pace besides the road.
The longer a pigeon waits before scooting out of the way of an oncoming car, the longer they hold their ground, only flying at the very last instant to appear flapping around a fender inches from death, the more status they gain in other pigeons’ eyes. The more they were honored in high places during meetings, cooing about how they did on the street that day. Strutting their pigeon stuff.
That’s the only explanation I can think of that sounds reasonable.


4.
So driving down an average street on an average day, when I see some pigeons in the distance in the middle of the road, as if waiting for me, daring me, I figure there’s nothing unusual. It’s the way of the pigeon.
I will, on occasion, swerve a little, not too much, seeing whether I can run over one. They want to play? I’ll play.
Some people call pigeons doves and think that makes them poetical and slightly more elevated, but I’ll confess. Whenever I see a dead pigeon squashed on the street, a result from zigging when they should have been zagging, I have yet to feel remorse.
More like, one down, millions of disease bearing pests to go.


5.
Today I saw at one end of the street a pigeon calling me out. Daring for me to run it over. It no doubt glanced over to its mates and winked, Watch me, boys.
We approached our twined destinies slowly.
I sighted the pigeon padding left, decide something else and switch directions, going right, keeping an eye on me, its wings folded calmly behind its back.
I speeded up unexpectedly.
I got close. Closer. His little feet began churning quicker as I came upon him and he disappeared from sight under my car and I kept my peripheral vision alert, curious to see a flutter of wings appear around the corner of my car as he saved his sorry ass.
Instead my front right tire did a little bounce, as though going over a mini-bump. Then, my rear right tire repeated this same movement, only less.
I looked in my rear view mirror. Two feathers twirled in a circular wind.
Squished pigeons in the road always look the same. Flat right down the middle, with one wing raised vertically in the air, as though waving goodbye forever.
There would be some sad cooing in the pigeon bar that night.
One down, millions to go.