Despite the odds, all twelve of us made it to the Oakwood’s North Clubhouse at 10am this morning. Despite seemingly unending cross country road trips, we all got into the van and braved L.A. traffic for the first time. Despite jet lag from a 13 hour time difference, we walked around the historic Bradbury and strolled the aisles of Million Dollar Theater, imagining the three-piece suits and fur coats of old Hollywood walking the same aisles. Despite arriving at 4am the night before, we kept up pace as we walked around the oldest building in Los Angeles and navigated crowded Olvera Street, well earned churros in hand. The circumstances were stacked against us being a happy, cohesive group. But in the spirit of embracing the whirlwind that is the block plan, we all had a blast.
In the first hour of class, our professor Dylan Nelson pointed out that the model of the block plan is great preparation for the world of filmmaking. You focus on one thing for a concentrated period of time and pour all of yourself into it until the project ends. Working long hours in filmmaking blocks, I have realized that this is the model that works best for me. I think that’s part of why our clan of twelve kept our enthusiasm in spite of our travel exhaustion. Creative energy keeps us going. So many of the places we visited have inspired countless filmmakers, and the creative possibilities were palpable. For instance, there is a vacant diner called “Johnnie’s” in a prime real estate area of L.A. that’s sole purpose is to serve as a filming location. This empty shell of a space is completely fake, and yet it has helped define what we think of when we imagine an old school diner. Johnnie’s has been home to Reservoir Dogs, The Big Lebowski and countless others. Spaces like the Bradbury and Union Station also offer that feeling of infinite possibility. I love that there are spaces in L.A. that just sit and wait for someone to do something beautiful with them. And I love that the people of L.A. respond. In short, I get why L.A. attracts creatives.
It has always been safer for me to hate Los Angeles. While touring at USC and Occidental a few years ago, I remember being disenchanted with the place – the airport, the smog, the never ending sprawl. I developed an image in my head that everyone who moved to Los Angeles was delusional and desperate to be famous. I realize now that this image made me more comfortable. I decided to devalue L.A. before it could devalue me. Los Angeles was the popular kid I always wanted to sit with in the cafeteria but dreaded would reject me. So with reluctance, I admit the following: I already love Los Angeles. What I realized today is that the cool kids’ table is far less scary when it’s filled with a bunch of passionate collaborators.
