Photography by – Marina Rodes

Bel Alarcón – Bio

Bel Alarcón is a Spanish actor who divides her time between Spain and Canada. Bel began her acting journey at age 6, participating in the Theatre club at her school. From there, she enrolled in an acting school and debuted in a showcase where she portrayed the character Ether in “The Creation Myth”. Bel has also honed her skills at the Identity School of Acting and continues to train and develop her technique and accents.

Throughout her career, Bel has taken on several memorable roles, including Harold Zilder in “Moulin Rouge” and Luisa in “Four Hearts with Brake and Reverse”. While working with the Oscar Martin Company, the company received two Buero National Awards for Young Theatre. Her most recent credit includes a leading role in a short film.

Milestone

In 2022, Bel achieved a significant milestone by reaching the Regional Finals of the World Monologue Games in the Sprint Category. She ranked 98th in the Main Professional Category with a classical Spanish piece from “The Language of Flowers” by Federico Garcia Lorca. Bel was the second highest-ranking Spaniard and the only one performing in Spanish.

Aside from acting, Bel has received training in voice and dancing. Bel is a native Spanish and Valenciano speaker fluent in English and French. In addition to her acting skills, Bel has diverse talents and interests, including swimming, painting, fitness, photography, and art. She pursued studies in Art Curation and Archaeology during her time in college.

How did you get started in acting?

The first time acting caught my attention was when I was five years old. It was the first time the school took us to see a play: “A Midsummer Night’s Dream”. I just fell in love. Maybe it was the costume or the lights, or perhaps it was a child’s imagination, but I was mesmerised by it: the beauty, the illusion. One of the things that really shocked me the most was when I found out that one of the male leading roles was a woman. As soon as we were backstage and had the opportunity to meet the cast, my words just abandoned me. The trick, the magic of theatre, really captivated me that day. 

Acting classes

And as soon as I was home, I went straight to my mother and begged her to enrol me in acting classes. I wanted to do that. I wanted to be part of that dream. At first, my family was not sure about it, but as someone “classified” as having some difficulties at school, mainly because I could not speak properly, one of the teachers encouraged my mother to do it. Two months later, I was starting my first-ever acting class.

My first role was as a shepherd in a school play, and I even forgot my lines. But despite the nerves, the panic and everything else, I wouldn’t have changed it for anything in the world.

My favourite role would probably be Joan in “Aci no Paga ni Deu”. It was my first role speaking in Valenciano, and it was a tiny and quite newly formed company. Just earning enough money to go to the theatres and pay for the petrol was all it offered at that time. It was a very humbling experience, but the cast was amazing. 

Real Events

If you are unfamiliar with the play, it’s based on real events. It tells the story of how the prices have increased on basic products. Some people rioted in the supermarket and stole products. Antonia, Joan’s wife, is one of them, and she is proud to have participated. The only problem was that my character didn’t approve of this kind of behaviour. So, she found herself involved in a lot of funny situations. 

It was amazing. We took it straight into this absurd parody of what was happening in Spain – we had quite a strong economic crisis between 2008 and 2014. So we all had this energy and could relate to it because almost every one of the cast members was very young then. The only way to describe it was that it was simply magnetic. Being able to do this play while our society was dealing with the same situation was surreal. 

Society has always used art to express the moment in history they are living in, so this experience, for me, was the same. 

Photography by – Ana Puchachov

Can you describe a challenging or memorable experience you’ve had on set?

It would be when I filmed my last short film. The whole idea behind this project was to be a visual poem of how relationships can heal and hurt you simultaneously. It was with a new director who is now a friend of mine, and she had the idea of using paint to express an ideology. So in the scene, actors had to apply paint to my body.

The idea of three men you just met painting your body was not how I envisioned my first day on set, to be completely honest. I knew it would happen at some point, but I was surprised to find out it was the first thing on the agenda. But it was so much fun and a memory that I will always cherish. Blue paint still came out of my hair two weeks after recording that.

How do you prepare for auditions or new roles?

I try not to overthink about auditions. I learnt this the hard way. It’s very common to do an audition and to start thinking about it and how much you want the role; personally, doing that was consuming me. One of my friends told me that as soon as you do an audition, you have to think about the next one and just put your energy into that. So that’s what I started to do.

Advice on how to prepare.

Drink plenty of water and ensure you have good lighting. Get a nice plain background and a good reader. I normally read the lines a couple of times to try to find the objectives, feelings and intentions, then record. 

One thing that has changed the way I do self-tapes is having a good reader; normally, this person is also an actor and a friend. This creates a really nice work environment and lets them give me growth notes, little tips that can change and improve my game. Having someone correcting things that may not translate as well as you think on camera can be extremely valuable. They can be honest with you because there’s trust, but at the same time, they love and care for you, so these notes are with love and respect.

When I have to face a new role, doubt and insecurity attack me; having these people around me who want me to succeed and do my best really calms me down. 

Bel, what do you enjoy most about being an actress?

If I am being completely honest, the opportunity to make people believe that what I am doing, even for a second, is real. Disconnecting from their thoughts and problems and letting the magic of acting enchant them, the same it did when I was a child. That’s what I enjoy the most – creating that illusion at that moment, being part of a team, being another person, being part of the magic.

Have you ever had to portray a character that was very different from yourself? If so, how did you approach it?

I have played gods, married unhappy women and even cats, but the most challenging role I have ever faced was being Harold Zilder in Moulin Rouge. As a 5 feet tall young lady, I didn’t resonate a lot with the image that most people would have of this character from the movies. My hair was red then, but that was our only similarity. At first, I was unsure about this role, and the director had to convince me that I was a great fit. She explained that it was normal for men to play women’s roles, so why not do it the other way around? I was not convinced about it, but after much research, we found something that really works with that idea: Female Drag Queen or Female Queen. Females embracing the Drag Queen culture. 

And after having a clear idea and a lot of studying, researching and becoming comfortable with this character, it was time for the next step: trying to make me sign. Which, to be honest, scared me the most.

Bel, what advice would you give to aspiring actors?

I have two pieces of advice I would give anyone in this industry. The first one is to be nice. It may be a cliche, but it’s true. You need to be nice to all the people that surround you and work with you. From the crew, the sound techs, directors, writers, casting directors, fellow actors and even the cleaners. These people are the ones who have your back, making sure everything is perfect and ready to go.

And last but not least, you need to be you. When I started in this industry, I really wanted to fit in and for people to like me. So most of my thoughts and opinions needed to be expressed properly, sometimes not being true at all with myself. But this had to change because I was not being true to myself. It was scary at first, but then people told me how much they liked the way I was. The only difference was that I was being myself: loud, honest, bubbly, and sometimes annoying, but most of the time transparent. So yes, do not be afraid to present yourself the way you truly are because people will like you; if they don’t, they are not your audience. You need to be yourself.

How do you handle rejection in the industry?

I am still struggling with rejection sometimes. For me, the hardest part is waiting to hear if an agent or a casting director likes you. That’s definitely the worst part for me. And when they tell you no, sometimes my heart breaks.

I have relied on yoga, sports and meditation to keep my mind busy. But, sometimes, a bubble bath, ice cream and a good book that helps me disconnect from the world is one of the best options. You need to be able to let that go out of your system, and if crying and wine work for you, do it. 

Can you share any funny or interesting behind-the-scenes stories from your acting career?

I learnt how to walk in heels for a play. My preference will always be sneakers; I like to be comfortable and not be in pain, which my mind has always associated with heels. But when I was around 14 years old, I had to learn how to walk with heels. And at first, it was a disaster. A fawn walking would have shown more grace and abilities than whatever I was doing at that moment. 

However, on the day of the premier of that play, something happened backstage. Someone left their props on the other side of the stage, and I was the only person that could take it to the other side on time. So I had to run in heels without making any noise. In the end, probably my toes were the only thing touching the floor, but we made it. They got their props, and I learned how to walk on heels. 

Bel, what do you think is the most important quality for an actor to possess?

An actor must be an excellent listener because most of the acting is reacting. I also like actors with a great sense of humour; they are amazing. When you can laugh it off when things go wrong, we all love a blooper. But, definitely, being able to listen and react is very important to me.

Are there any specific actors or actresses who have inspired you in your career?

There’s a lot! Of course, Meryl Streep, Julie Andrews, Miriam Margolyes, Anne Hathaway and Maggie Smith. If you think about it, they are all amazing, talented and nice. I can not think about any drama that surrounds them. Their acting, their art, is what makes them memorable and inspiring. 

Bel, how do you balance your personal life with your acting career?

One joke that always comes out at family dinners is that I do not have a personal life. I moved so far away from home, but I remain connected with my family and friends as much as possible which is easier now because of technology. One of the rules that my family implemented was that we needed to see each other at least every three months, flying to Europe or coming to Canada. Moving to a different country with a different language and culture has been hard.

My main focus right now is on my career; I have taken a break from dating. That doesn’t mean that if the perfect person appears, I will ignore them. It means that, for now, my attention is on my career. 

What are some upcoming projects or roles that you’re excited about?

I am actually in the middle of auditions for a few projects.

The writer’s strike was declared a few days ago, and even though I am an Equity member, we are still trying to see the guidelines the unions will recommend to all actors. Right now, the focus needs to be on the common goals to reassure that writers and actors have the best work environment and try to fight for the best qualities and conditions possible. We are in this situation that has been prolonged for so long, and it’s quite scary as a newcomer in North America. So, I am trying to work at as many auditions as possible,  on my techniques and accents. 

Have you ever had to perform in front of a live audience? If so, how does it compare to acting on camera?

Actually, I am more familiar with live audiences than acting on camera. I am a classical trained actor who has performed on stage from a young age. Live audiences, for me, are amazing. You can instantly tell if your performance is believable. Especially when you can interact with them and see and hear their reactions. On the other hand, acting on camera is really believing in the crew. I always joke with the camera technicians that they need to make me look nice. But, honestly, acting on camera is more intimate. 

I prefer live audiences for comedy and drama to acting on camera. Because on stage, the performances are more physical, and you have to play it bigger, so it can show better and it can translate better. While a single tear, a subtle movement on your lips is better captured on camera. 

Bel, how do you approach the process of developing a character?

I used to be a firm believer in Stanislavski’s method. But there are so many ways to approach this process, and you have to find what’s best for you. I always do a read-through of the script, ensuring I can understand the context and the story behind the character. Normally, the process to identify actions, intentions and feelings and write them down is what is next. Something that I find useful is to have “Actions: The Actors’ Thesaurus” next to me to find the perfect word for what I am trying to express. One of my teachers taught me this, which has changed my game. 

After that, I try to figure out their mannerisms, like walking, speaking, breathing, and even how they dress. Every single detail can help me understand them. One of my friends shared a trick with me a few months ago that works for me, and it’s to find the intention of the scene and say it three times before starting to act. It’s magic!

The last tip and I have adopted this after doing a workshop with Nic Knight, is to decide your character preferences. What is their choice of drink? What’s their belief? Do they have a favourite colour? Little things can help you connect more with the person you are creating.

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Single foster parent, aid worker, chaos specialist. Phoenix, the child of immigrants, writes genre-benders about identity, racism and loss. Her social dramas, blended with whatever the muse brings, are told from her perspective as a woman of colour with a disability. Phoenix is inspired by her son, who thinks he’s a dragon, and muse, Keanu Reeves. Neither of them does the dishes.

Every writer has a unique Point Of View. I speak only from my own experience. I was not raised on movies. I have not been a screenwriter for my whole career. Still, I hope this resonates with you. – Phoenix Black

A great story often moves from an idea to fruition with a trigger. What was yours?

Sometimes it’s based on assignment or set criteria. For example, I had to write a horror short for a competition about a stagehand and a shadow. I’d never written horror. That formed the basis of my feature FATHER TRINITY (formerly BONEYARD). I’m currently outlining a potential sequel to a ’70s film. The prequel directs the sequel. I might read an article or eavesdrop on a conversation. A stranger tells me their life story in a café. I have one of those faces. My best line of dialogue came from a woman giving me a bikini wax. One of those ideas reaches out and pulls me in.

At the risk of sounding drug-addled, my writing often feels… spiritual. Not in a religious way. I’m consciously or unconsciously wrestling with a question or struggling. Someone unseen listens and responds, ‘Let me tell you a story,’ or ‘Let me show you.’ I had a vivid image of a boy, alone on a beach in Sri Lanka. I knew I had to find him. It doesn’t mean the story is good or gets finished. 

I once did CPR on an old woman whose son-in-law ran off the road. This was in Cambodia, when I was working on the avian influenza pandemic response. Bodies and blood everywhere. Their toddler survived without a scratch. I couldn’t save the old woman. 

I swear her spirit stuck to me for three days. 

Writing is similar. My characters arrive fully formed. They live with me. They stick to me. 

My writing is an abstraction of my life, in the plot, characters or themes. I’m not a saint. I’ve done a lot of stupid things. I wear my heart on my sleeve, which is not a safe place to keep it. That’s a great way to write but not a wise way to live. I’ve had an eclectic life, with an abundance of joy, intense love, adventure, hardship and trauma. 

My first son, Phoenix, died late into the pregnancy. I started fostering my second son – let’s call him Andy – just before lockdown. They are my two major triggers in recent writing. 

Andy hurt himself at soccer. His coach said, “No tears.” I wondered, how would a boy brought up with that mantra cope with profound loss? How do I bring up this sweet boy to not be a toxic man? Those questions and my horror short came together to form Father Trinity.  

Andy and I watched How To Train Your Dragon: The Hidden World. Then, Andy decided he was a dragon. At night, he dreamed he had adventures in a dragon world, rolling his reality into his fantasy. In the day, he was a ball of rage and neediness. Keanu was our imaginary housemate. He was blamed for stray farts and chocolate wrappers under the couch. Writing was a salve. KEANU REEVES IS MY MUSE, MY SON IS A DRAGON is based on our true story. 

My screenplays are based on social issues: Identity, racism, trauma, loss, disability, child abuse, fostering, mental health, ageing, infertility, and bullying. Those don’t have to be heavy dramas. 

I don’t want to watch a heavy drama about a grieving orphan. Yet, I’ll watch Harry Potter.

Writing one screenplay is equal to years of therapy. Each story grants me insight into myself. You observe yourself – or part of yourself – as a character. A level of impartial distance helps you understand what happened to you. I’ll watch my character and think, ‘No, don’t do it. It’s going to end badly.’ And then she does it. I see where it all went wrong. I feel compassion for her and, thereby, for myself. 

I don’t finish every project. Sometimes, you’re too close to it. Sometimes, you fall out of love with your story.  Like any relationship, you must know when it’s time to end it.

How did Keanu Reeves become your muse?

I was approaching fifty-two. I had been on the foster-to-adoption list for over two years. I was still grieving the loss of my baby boy. Everyone I knew had kids or had decided against having them. No one understood my grief. No one could help me answer: ‘Is it too late to have kids?’ 

I came across an old Esquire article. Keanu Reeves was being interviewed. He said, “It’s too late. It’s over. I’m fifty-two. I’m not going to have any kids.” After that, dozens of things happened in a short space of time. My tiny local theatre ran a Keanu-a-thon. The Sydney Fringe Festival staged a play of Speed on a bus. The guy buying my fridge was called Neo. It went on and on and on. It was bizarre. I’d laugh about it with friends. 

So – try to suspend judgment – I wrote a letter to Keanu Reeves. Not the craziest thing I’ve done. Keanu talked about grief the way I felt it: “Grief changes shape, but it never ends. People have a misconception that you can deal with it and say, ‘It’s gone, and I’m better.’ They’re wrong. When the people you love are gone, you’re alone.” That’s exactly how I felt.

That letter was a way to process my decision. I decided not to have a child. 

Keanu became my muse. I started writing in a way that I’d never written before. Every time I’d get stuck, some version of him – from Johnny Utah to John Wick – got me unstuck. 

I wasn’t a Keanu fan before this happened. At that time, I was in lockdown with Andy. Andy was an angry stranger. I locked my door and hid the knives. I wasn’t sleeping. Keanu kept coming up in my feed. His cult-like status amused me, his fans from adoring to zealots. Some of it’s spit-out-your-drink funny. There’s a website devoted to him being immortal!

I love the love that surrounds him. No one else inspires such unadulterated goodwill. I felt like he wrote with me. Does that make him my inspiration or an echo of my grief? Whatever it is, it works. 

Two weeks after I wrote to Keanu, I got the call. A nine-year-old boy needed a home.

Since then, Keanu is in every script I write. 

So you see muses as real?

Many believe in an invisible God guiding their lives. We (I hope) all believe in the laws of physics, we sightlessly see. Many creatives believe in a muse. They bear the words of a song or a poem. We hear them in the tentative tinker of a piano or the grief of a cello. We see them in the fall of fabric, the confluence of ideas or the flurry of words.  

I can intellectualise it, but I cannot explain it.  Nevertheless, I do believe in the muse. Fervently.

Fashion designer Hubert de Givenchy believed his gift was God-given, but his muse was Audrey Hepburn. In return, she said he was “far more than a couturier; he is a creator of personality.” There was a symbiotic creative relationship. She inspired his creations. In return, his fashion created a character for her. 

Obviously, I don’t know Keanu. I write him as the male version of myself, melded with research. My dad died two weeks after my son’s funeral. The whole Keanu kismet weirdness happened on the third anniversary of their deaths. Maybe I needed a friend, even if he was imaginary.

Perhaps muses are the embodiment of our story or our purpose. It is not only the nexus of genetic gifts and nurture that makes us writers. Why does a story come to one person rather than another? Are spirits or ancestors whispering in our ears? Are muses the vestigial organ of a lifetime of experience? If you take away nature and nurture from what makes a person, you are left with the soul. That is where the essence of creativity, the muse, exists.

Have you always known that you could write?

I have a Bachelor of Applied Science (Physiotherapy/Physical Therapy). I have a Masters of Public Health. Even in my forties, my parents said, “You can always go back and study medicine.” In my culture, being a writer wasn’t a career possibility. It was doctor, lawyer, accountant or wife. 

My cousin was a famous playwright in Sri Lanka. My mother always said – in a loud whisper – “She’s a lesbian.” Being a writer – like being a lesbian, according to my mother – was a radical choice. 

Whether I could write was judged from an external frame of reference. I did well at English at school. Friends laughed at my emails about my aid worker sexscapades. I did a raft of short courses. I studied copywriting. I interned with Saatchi & Saatchi. Our group discussed our mentor’s brown and tan checked pony skin shoes for half an hour. After that, I knew advertising wasn’t for me. 

I studied novel writing with Allen and Unwin’s Faber Academy and was published in their anthology. I studied advanced playwriting with playwright Timothy Daly. I was long-listed for a theatre writing commission. I studied screenwriting. I learned absolutely nothing. I studied filmmaking, where I co-directed a short. That led to me being a production manager on a professional short film, Final Broadcast.

When I finished Father Trinity, I got positive feedback from a mentor. I scored 8 on the Blacklist. I placed at the PAGE Awards and Austin Film Festival.

Father Trinity is a polarising script, in a Mulholland Drive kind of way. I paid for a lot of professional feedback. That process refined my craft. I finally knew that I could write. Not in the way other people write. My writing is rooted in a different cultural framework. I have epilepsy, so my neurons spark in a different way. 

One mentor said, “People will hate it or think you’re a mad genius, but no one will say Meh!” 

The most significant creative milestone is to know that your work is good, without requiring the validation of others. 

Is your personal story commonplace with other screenwriters? Why? 

No. I’ve been discouraged from telling my personal story. “There’s too much going on.” “Managers won’t know how to sell you.” A backstory can’t be one “that’s a lot.” Tragedy still has to be upbeat.

Writers are a product. We have to have a neat logline. We must compress a lifetime of experience into a paragraph.

My parents landed in Australia during the White Australia Policy in 1963. Mum sat perched on her suitcase in front of the large tin shed that was the airport. A leathery-faced woman asked, 

“Did ya come ‘ere to die?”

Mum sipped her tea as she told the story for the hundredth time. I saw her with her beehive hairdo, large sunglasses, and her tight capris pants. She looked impossibly glamorous.

“And I thought, what have we got ourselves into? This is a savage place!”

It was nothing but red dust and far from the civility of London, where she met Dad, or Sri Lanka, where they spoke the Queen’s English. 

“Or did ya come here yesta-die?” 

I always laughed, not just because it was funny. Mum was the girl who stole food to eat from her neighbour’s garden. Life had been savage, something to survive, and she was here now in The Lucky Country. 

Dad was one of the first dozen people of colour allowed into Australia. He was admitted under a professional program. He set up the anatomy department in one of the country’s largest medical schools. My parents were Sri Lankan hipsters. Mum was white, with a Dutch and English heritage. Dad ticked Black on the immigration tick box. Kids chased me up trees shouting, “Blackie!” In 1970s Australia, ‘Black’ meant Aboriginal, or anyone like me. 

I was the first person of colour most people had seen. I spent my first class (around age 6) in England, in Sussex and Newcastle. In one, I was an exotic celebrity, like a kangaroo in the playground. In the other, no teacher or child acknowledged or spoke to me. Not one word for six months. When we returned to Australia, I couldn’t read.

I was a very sick child, in and out of doctor’s offices and hospitals. That profoundly impacts a family’s dynamic. My sister was volatile. We walked on eggshells. There was a lot of door slamming.

My parents were torn between keeping me well and keeping my sister happy. They worked sixteen-hour days. My sister was beautiful, charming, and funny. I remember her crying because she had to choose between three men who were in love with her. She shouted, “You don’t know what it’s like to be a passionate person!” I grew up in a comedic war zone. 

From age four to eighteen, I waited tables at Mum’s restaurant. I visited Dad at the university after school. He taught medical students and dissected dead bodies. I’d open Dad’s fridge. A chilli and sambol sandwich was nestled next to a half-dissected hand. Dad would maître d’ at the restaurant until midnight. I pretended to be asleep as he carried us to bed, up seventeen steps.  

The restaurant was a colourful place for a child. Full of big personalities, romance, stoned waiters and drunk customers. The waiters were arty intellectuals, five years older than me. They felt the need to educate me. We recited poetry at picnics. We talked about books and plays. It was all very Brideshead Revisited, but without the river punting. 

I grew up with openly gay men, which was unusual in the 1970s. Sexuality was interesting, like the colour of someone’s eyes, but not something to judge. 

When I was sixteen, I dated a twenty-one-year-old waiter in our restaurant. What were my parents thinking? What was he thinking? He ignited my interest in movies: Amadeus, Kiss of the Spider Woman, Blue Velvet, The Fly, Tie Me Up, Tie Me Down, Wild At Heart, Like Water For Chocolate, and Amélie. They all had a sensual grandeur.

High school was dominated by my epilepsy. That’s another story. 

My parent’s expectation was that I’d be a doctor. If I got ninety-five percent on a test, Mum would ask, “What happened to the other five?” I didn’t feel pressure from my parents. Instead, I thought, ‘What did happen to the other five percent?’ A mark of ‘B’ is an Asian ‘F.’ It’s a stereotype, but not one based on nothing.

After flunking my med school interview, I studied dentistry and physiotherapy (physical therapy). I lasted less than three years as a physiotherapist. My skills lay in leadership. I managed a disability education department. I managed operations teams at the Sydney Olympics. Then, I moved into pharmaceutical education and research. It didn’t sit well. 

I eventually found my calling. Despite my parent’s protests, I moved to Cambodia at age thirty-nine as an aid worker. I worked in avian influenza and pandemics with the World Health Organisation. 

I worked in Myanmar after Cyclone Nargis, under the close watch of the military junta. I convinced the province’s medical director to train doctors in abortion and assisting rape survivors.  I travelled by speedboat, helicopter, or motorcycle, to my work in remote villages.

In Sudan, I worked in water, sanitation and hygiene. I led an outbreak investigation in rebel-controlled areas. The Rwandan military escorted us in a long army convoy through the desert, with an ambulance in case we got shot. Angry rebels and child soldiers swarmed our medical truck. 

Haiti was next. After the earthquake, I was part of Oxfam America’s response team.  A cyclone, election violence, and cholera soon followed. I moved to The International Organization for Migration, inside the UN compound. I went to the base café. Sean Penn and Patricia Arquette were eating at the next table. Eighteen months later, I was just minimising the damage caused by politics and other ex-pats. 

I complained to a colleague about how dysfunctional our colleagues were. She answered, “We are all dysfunctional.” I thought, ‘We are all damaged.’ How could we not be? My feet didn’t touch the ground in eighteen months without a man guarding me. One of my friends was kidnapped and tortured in Syria for fourteen months. Devastation becomes normal. It’s much like an ambulance worker or nurse in a sexual assault clinic, I guess. If you felt it all, you couldn’t do your job. 

In Haiti, I often saw a naked man walking on the street as I was driven to work. He was always beaming, happy in his own mad world. It was better than being in an asylum. Then, one day, he was wearing a clean white business shirt. I cried for the first time. I cried because I’d felt nothing. It had never occurred to me to give him clothes. Was I a compassionless monster?    

When I came back, nearly five years later, Dad had something like Motor Neuron Disease. His speciality was neurology. It was ironic that no one could diagnose his rare condition.  

I worked in government: Health policy, and then the Fire Service. ‘Firies’ were predominantly white men. They were called ‘Yellow Angels’ after their yellow uniforms. By then, I was a bit of an expert in rapid behaviour change and cognitive bias. I was hired to redirect the organisation’s focus from ‘putting wet stuff on the red stuff’ to prevention. 

I was the only woman of colour and one of two women in management. Over 99% of the 70,000 staff or volunteers were of Anglo-Saxon heritage. They wanted to address the organisation’s poor record in engaging diverse communities. 

The crisis point came when I focused part of our international conference on diversity. Remember, this is a government, secular organisation.  I discovered that they had an in-house pastor. He was saying grace at the conference! When I objected, the media officer said, “I don’t understand why you’re upset. Australia is a Christian country.” My senior staff said, “I don’t agree with saying the (Aboriginal) Welcome to Country, but I put up with that.” Lest there be confusion, in rhetoric at least, Australia embraces multiculturalism.

I lost the argument. I turned up at the dinner after grace, wearing a sari. They wanted me to create a cultural change but weren’t willing to change. 

I won hundreds of thousands of dollars in grant money, to work with diverse community groups. My manager wouldn’t allow my staff to work on those projects, because “we can’t cater to all niche groups, like Sri Lankans.” I’m Sri Lankan. 

This was my first major experience of gaslighting and racial and sexist bullying in the workplace.

As an aid worker, I’d been called “fierce.” I was tough. I worked with people of all cultures as equals. Now, I was a foreigner in my own country. 

It was a defining moment in my journey to writing. 

My therapist said, “People driven by altruism experience moral shock.” That continual micro assault gave me chronic PTSD. It wounded me more than any disaster or war zone. Part of me broke. When I healed, I was a different person. My brain, my person, functioned in a new and different way. A more creative way.

When my (foster) son came to me he was ten years old. Everybody and everything had been taken from him. Fostering is the hardest thing I have ever done. It has taken three years for him to feel loved and safe.  My son is my karma, the best and worst of me. His humor, compassion, love and kindness inspire me. Every day I say to him, “How did I get so lucky?”

How did you develop your writing style? 

Mum used to say, “There are two sides to a story and the truth.” And Mum told all sides of a story. The truth didn’t matter because her stories were beautiful. Wandering, weaving, evocative tales. Mum has bipolar disorder with psychotic breaks. I didn’t realise that until she was seventy. You grow up believing your parents’ eccentricities are normal. 

When we went home to Sri Lanka, everyone told stories. The skeletons in the closet came out dancing, drinking whisky, having affairs and secret children. 

Dad taught in England every four years, as part of his university sabbatical program. We grew up steeped in London’s theatre and arts culture. We traipsed through every art gallery in Europe. I saw Rudolph Nureyev dance Swan Lake with Margot Fonteyn. Google it. It was cool. 

We travelled in a Kombi van, via “the hippie trail” in the 1970s. That was from London, through Europe, the Middle East to Sri Lanka. We drove in convoy with hookah-smoking hipsters. At night, there were tales around the campfire and plotting out red lines along roads without names. 

Mum didn’t finish school. There were ten children in her family. They survived by stealing and rationing food. Mum’s father was an abusive drunk. My parents said, “Education is the way out of poverty.” My mother ingrained in me the importance of reading. 

If you grow up watching American movies, you imbibe conventional structure. The only movie I ever watched with my parents was Elephant Man. That sparked my love of David Lynch.

My style is based on Sri Lankan oral storytelling, with a theatrical and visual quality. It’s postcards that create a feeling. I’ve been told I have a unique jumpy, visual style. Unique isn’t necessarily a good thing. A mentor said I require more from a reader, and that was a barrier. 

Did you always know, deep down, that you wanted to be a writer?

I would not be a writer if every other door did not slam shut.  

My life’s purpose was to be of service. I was a kick-ass aid worker. I helped thousands of people. I said, “moral imperative” and “duty to protect,” to motivate people into action. I wore my righteous indignation like a bulletproof vest.

To be a writer was so damned selfish. It was a narcissistic profession. ‘Yes, I have something worth hearing. I am Oh So Special.’ 

Everything I write has to attempt to create change, or I’d feel guilty. 

Writing still feels self-indulgent. I love it. To mine the deepest, darkest parts of yourself, to share the giddy highs! In what other profession can it be ‘all about me’, and that’s a good thing? 

When you finish my script, you will know me. Well, as well as I know myself.   

You said you have a disability. Do you feel comfortable talking about that?

As a child, I had an undiagnosed medical condition. I was often too weak to stand. Some of my strongest memories are of going to school in the hospital. My medication had an unintended side effect – epilepsy.  

I had my first major seizure on the first day of high school. I had been the Dux (Valedictorian) of my primary school. However, in high school, my medication and unstable epilepsy meant I was zoned out most of the time. After they changed my medication, I repeated my last year of high school. 

My high school friends tell stories about me and show me photos. It’s like being photoshopped into a memory. 

When I turned forty, my friend visited me in Bangkok, where I worked for Oxfam. We were crossing a six-lane intersection. I had a fit on the traffic island. The doctors tripled my medication. 

Then, I realised I had never heard an entire conversation. I’d just been piecing in the gaps. 

When I had a grand mal seizure, I had no control of my body. I lost consciousness. As Blanche DuBois said, “I have always depended on the kindness of strangers.” That deeply shapes your psyche. You must believe that people are good and kind, because your life depends on it. 

I never expected to live very long. That gives you a freedom to live fully and dangerously. I did all the things I was told I couldn’t do. 

It has taken a long time to accept that my epilepsy is a disability. In my twenties, I was a manager in a disability organisation. A competitive colleague found out I had epilepsy. She then created a policy that no one with epilepsy could drive the company car. I left not long after that.

After working as an aid worker for years, I applied for a job in an Australian government disaster response team. They rejected me because I had epilepsy. I never admitted it on another job application.

In Cambodia, my nickname was nana, because I needed to be in bed by midnight. I haven’t had a grand mal seizure for a decade. It’s only now that I talk about my epilepsy. I believe that my brain’s electrical storms may be a gift, intrinsic to my creativity.

Did you get support from friends and family when you decided to put pen to paper?

My family, and their friends, think I work in a hospital. I write under a pseudonym. So, no. 

When you are the child of poor immigrants, your primary focus is a career that will feed your family. There is a scarcity mentality. You can’t eat your words.

I’m Asian. My mum has dementia. Dad (when he was alive) had a neurological condition. I was expected to be their sole carer. You can’t just shake off hundreds of years of ideals of duty and honour. The matriarch (Michelle Yeoh)  in ‘Crazy Rich Asians‘ captured it best. “Pursuing one’s passions. How American.” 

If I was “just writing,” I had endless amounts of time. If you’re not paid to write, that’s worse.

Writing isn’t considered a ‘proper job.’ On the contrary, it’s ‘a waste of a good education.’

My friends are supportive. However, I don’t have any ‘in real life’ screenwriter friends. Curiously, five people from my high school English class became writers. 

Why did you choose Phoenix Black as a pseudonym?

I named my baby Phoenix. A phoenix is a magical creature. I was single, infertile, in my forties and recovering from the Fire Service. He rose from the ashes. When a baby dies, no one says their name. They have no legacy. No one remembers them as a person except for their parent(s). Writing under Phoenix is a way for his name to carry on. I’d get a tattoo if I weren’t such a chicken shit. 

Black was a combination of identifying as Black and Sirius Black. He’s my kind of guy.

What’s your writing process? 

I’m a dedicated outliner. I write a rough outline of plot points. 

After that, I put each scene on an index card. Father Trinity was 175 cards. I colour code characters, relationships, and plot points. I create a timeline because I write multiple nonlinear protagonists (main characters). 

Then I write in a torrent. A metaphor (colour, symbol or song) and themes appear. For example, a nursery rhyme represents my character’s trauma. I ensure each scene carries the theme. I reorder or combine the cards. I rewrite. 

Once it’s done, I do passes. A pass is when you go through the script and check one specific thing. For example, I read only the dialogue of one character. I do this for each character. I ensure they all sound different. Next, I do a pass on slug lines, action lines, transitions, and formatting. Finally, I do a relationship pass – Is there enough to make Ally fall in love with Flash? 

I do a word search for the usual culprits – see, look, walk, now, suddenly, so, then. I delete or substitute each with a more active word. I minimise repeated words, unless it’s a deliberate device. Then it’s a slash and burn of the action lines and pronouns – she, he, them.

My playwriting mentor used to shout, “Porridge!” Naturalistic dialogue was not theatrical. Monologues, poetry, and song provided texture. He insisted we delete ‘and’ unless needed. 

I scatter breadcrumbs (clues) through the script. I want someone to reach the end and realise it was all in plain sight, like in The Sixth Sense. Or try to interpret it like the meaning of a dream. I hide a lot of Easter eggs – hidden references or inside jokes. Keanu Reeves is My Muse, My Son Is A Dragon has several movie references. 

I’ll read it to ensure I can hear, feel, and smell a scene. Some scenes or characters have a staccato drum beat to create tension. A monologue has a cello. Grief is crushed purple velvet. I vary the sentence length, unless the rhythm has a purpose.

Ultimately, you must give it to someone you trust to read it. I’ve had some polarising feedback from competitions or paid coverage. 

Father Trinity (formerly BONEYARD) included paid feedback:

‘I thought BONEYARD was a boneyard for the rejected parts of your other scripts. I had to skip to the last five pages to work out what was happening. I wouldn’t have finished it if I wasn’t being paid to read it.’ 

Versus

‘This could be a cult hit! A stand out deserving a look from production companies seeking thought-provoking artistic content.’

What do you do with that? 

I’ve paid for lots of coverage and lots of competitions. I won’t do that again. 

I often write in a café. If I’m crying while writing, it’s probably a good scene. 

I use a paper notebook. When I drive, I use voice to text, or my son takes notes on my phone. The bulk of my writing is on a laptop. It’s easier to keep up with the speed of thought. When I type, I go into a meditative state. Maybe it’s the patter across the keyboard, like rain.

What genre do you write in?

Many writers specialise in one genre. For example, horror, drama, or comedy. This makes them and their stories easier to market. That’s not going to be my journey. 

It doesn’t matter whether it’s a writing assignment or a spec. I feel that stories come to me. I’m just the person who has the honour of writing them down. 

A couple of notable exceptions: Romance and comedy.

If I write romance, everyone dies, or it ends badly. That probably reflects my love life. Romance requires an optimism about love that’s not in me. For now, at least.

Comedy is the province of brilliant, quick-witted people. I’m in awe of them. I can recount funny things that happened. Like waking up to my foster son, massaging his shoulders with my vibrator. Comedy isn’t my strength. I can laugh at myself heartily. People laugh with me at me. 

If forced into a pigeonhole, I write nonlinear social dramas with multiple protagonists. 

Self-belief

A writer needs to have a solid, albeit sometimes wavering, belief in their story and themselves. 

Will Keanu Reeves Is My Muse, My Son Is A Dragon be read by Keanu? Will Father Trinity turn up on the desk of David Lynch? It’s in my nature to believe in the impossible.

Father Trinity is my favourite child. He’s quirky. I will always believe in him. I will cheer for him until the end. 

Income

Income is the greatest and most unaddressed barrier. Mentorships, coverage, competitions, pitch fests, conferences, workshops, retreats. It costs thousands of dollars. Forget college or moving to LA. An entry-level writer’s room position isn’t enough to feed a family. 

Time

Some writers get up at 5am, create word magic then rush to a day job. I need to eavesdrop on people with complicated coffee orders. I need to take a long shower. There is nothing like the flow of water on skin to solve plot problems. Ideally, I need a block of time with good coffee and café chatter for my brain to click into gear. Yet, perversely, deadlines make me really productive.

Competing priorities

Having a child has made me more focused. Time is more precious. I often feel like a terrible mother. Time spent writing or researching  could be invested in my child or my mother, while she recognises me. Money spent on mentorships etc., could be spent on holidays. Writing is time away from your family. It’s a very personal sacrifice. 

Does coming from a diverse background pose particular challenges for you?

The concept of diversity grates on me. By diversity, we mean anyone who isn’t a white straight Christian man without a disability. That’s most of the world. How is the talented majority now considered a niche group? If diversity implies minorities, how does it become the culturally rich majority? How does the ocean squeeze through a tiny hole?

I’m going to interpret diverse, in this instance, as traditionally underrepresented groups.

A three-act, single-protagonist, linear structure is the revered standard for ‘how to tell a story.’ It is familiar. Familiarity makes it easier to follow. There are conventions around many other story elements. This includes pacing (the speed at which the story moves) and each scene having conflict (a clash of wants, needs or characters). Anything outside of that is indie or experimental. Worse, it may be interpreted as the writer not understanding story. My work doesn’t strictly follow these conventions.

‘Unique’ is a tough sell, and movies are a business. If your work can’t be directly compared to what’s known, selling you takes extra work for managers. The business thereby systematically excludes voices and styles that are outside the norm. 

I can pitch. I can market myself. I can tell a story according to the prevalent screenwriting formulas: The Three Act Structure, Hero’s Journey, or Save The Cat, etc. It just won’t represent my culture, upbringing or oral storytelling tradition. Still, I can do it.

My work has an Asian mum reciting poetry, a man’s dying monologue, and lyrical speech. It’s tapestried with metaphor.  

This is entirely unsurprising if you were brought up on theatre, poetry, and art. One reader said, “Including poems is pretentious.” Another said, “That’s not what (the character) would say.” That’s a direct quote from my Asian son, on whom that character is based.

Reader feedback on Father Trinity:

‘An ingeniously plotted film in the psychological vein of David Lynch, with the operatic grandeur of Leos Carax. The world-building, symbols and metaphors show real vision with an experimental structure. This is awards bait that doesn’t underestimate the intelligence of the audience. This has the potential to be dissected by critics and audience repeatedly.’ 

That is not the compliment you think it to be. A mentor said, “We’ve already got David Lynch.” ‘Awards bait’ and ‘intelligent audience’ means not commercial. ‘Dissected repeatedly’ means people might not understand everything immediately. In the commercial downturn of film, production companies understandably favour safe. 

I met Fiona Shaw (Killing Eve, Harry Potter) at a Sri Lankan literary festival. We discussed the use of language by Shakespeare and Beckett. Actors want lyrical language, poems and monologues. 

There’s what I can only explain as a therapy culture in America. Everyone needs to understand a character’s motivation. Every detail has to be explained. There can be no secrets left untold. Every character has to be deep and have agency (control their situation). That bears no resemblance to reality. If we knew everything about ourselves, therapists would be out of a job. 

The critiques I’ve received reflect a lack of understanding of a culture that is not Western. For example, I’ve had comments that my stories are ‘not American’ and ‘might sell better in Europe.’

The vast differences between American versus European and Asian movies, show that there is another way. If ‘what movies should be’ is based on what was and what is, how do we evolve? Do we want to evolve?  

One issue is peculiar to Australian culture.

Many Australians judge exotic travel, theatre, or galleries as elitist. Forget about poetry, opera or ballet. I dumb down my vocabulary. Australians have ‘Tall Poppy Syndrome.’ Anyone who stands out from the crowd is cut down to size. You don’t talk about wins, except for sport.

Australians are often successful overseas, before their talent is embraced at home. It takes effort to overcome the instinct to never self-promote.

Excerpt from Father Trinity

What is the greatest challenge to ‘making it’ in the industry?

Connections! And an inherent bias in the system.

Connections

They say success is talent means opportunity. Opportunity means connections.

A writer needs a champion to influence a tastemaker. Or a bucket load of fairy dust. 

A tastemaker is someone in the biz who can create a taste for something, even a project seen as unpalatable. Sure, you could win a competition leading to well-regarded managers vying for you. Someone could find you on social media or a writer’s list. That is very, very rare. 

To get your work read, it must get into the right hands. You need a credible connection to gush on your behalf. You have a decent chance if your work gets directly to the right person.  

Most often, your script goes through several layers of readers. Generally, readers learn storytelling in college. So your work is judged against a rigid framework of ‘what makes a good story.’ On top of that, they apply lenses: How easy is this to sell? How likely are we to attach the talent? How much will it cost to make it? 

Everything Everywhere All At Once would not have been made, if it was written by an unknown writer and had to go through multiple layers of unknown readers.

Without connections, you have to be a marketing machine. From social media to pitching, developing pitch decks, and networking. You have to master it all. Then you have to be lucky.

I’ve made strong friendships and connections through Twitter. I gained 5000 followers in less than a year. I have a website, pitch decks, profiles, and contest placements. I pitched Keanu Reeves Is My Muse, My Son Is A Dragon on a podcast, with actors acting out pages. As a tonal taster for Father Trinity, I wrote a monologue performed by Alex Osmond and Adam Files. Each performed it from the viewpoint of a different protagonist – movie star Flash or grieving stagehand Ace. I’m on Coverfly’s Top 20 family projects of all time. I’m on the Grey List’s best scripts from writers over forty. Writers have kindly read my work and tried to connect me to those in the biz. 

My friend’s dad met “a lovely young man in show business. Shall I introduce you?” That lovely young man was Craig Pearce, the incredible screenwriter of Elvis and Romeo+Juliet. Craig told me his break came through his best mate – Baz Luhrmann. Baz was adapting his play into a feature, ‘Strictly Ballroom.’ Script development was not going well. Baz convinced the company to let his best mate, an actor, write the screenplay. Talent meets timing meets connections.

I told Craig everything that I was doing to promote my work. His advice? “Make something. Write something someone will make. I realise that’s the chicken and the egg.” 

Biases 

Without addressing bias, different voices cannot break through. Unless they have a connection. 

I don’t speak with the authority of someone inside the Hollywood sanctum.  However, I can speak with authority on the barriers to behavioural change. Change requires us to address bias, create structures and have those in power be genuine change makers. 

There’s a view that if you’re not on the inside, your opinion is ill informed or sour grapes. ‘You can’t criticise us if you’re not one of us.’ The corollary is, to become one of us, you need to conform to our views. 

There is a flaw in the prevailing argument that to make something different, you have to first make something that is not. Don’t be different if you want to be or are different.

With sufficient insight and commitment, the lack of diversity isn’t a difficult problem to solve. I’m available for a highly paid consultancy. It’s certainly more complex than the token number of feeder programs and competitions. Enter this diversity competition for $65 because we really want diverse voices! Enter this paid feeder program, if you can afford it.

It’s a specious argument that writer’s rooms don’t reflect the population, because of a lack of available talented (for example) Black or disabled writers. It infuriates me to hear actors complain about the dearth of authentic parts for female actors over forty.  Those brilliant writers and scripts exist.  

Without getting technical, I’ll cover a few of the many cognitive bias basics. 

By nature, we favour the status quo. We are defensive when we are held to account. 

We favour people that relate to us. We ‘click.’ We have a shorthand because we have a shared experience. To get into the ‘in-group’, you have to change. You have to tell a story they can identify with or at least tell it in a way they can understand.

A belief becomes more entrenched when it is challenged – the Backfire Effect. You can only challenge the group when you are in the group. You cannot get into the group if you challenge the group. To speak up as a lone voice in a less powerful position, challenges the authority of the group.

To compound these difficulties, we pay attention to information that confirms our beliefs. We ignore facts that don’t support our pre-existing ideas. For example, we study the ‘Save the Cat’ writing formula, because we believe that is how a story should be written. We ignore different methodologies because they don’t support our ideas of what makes a story. 

There is pressure on Hollywood to make movies with a diverse cast, diverse writers and diverse stories. It’s embarrassing for the demographics of success to be revealed.  

Who is missing? If you want to hear those voices, the system has to change, not the writers. 

If no one is disagreeing with you, you have a problem. People are afraid to speak up or everyone around you is the same. The best outcomes come from diversity of thought.

I’ll very briefly touch on a few biases: Race, gender, age and caregivers.

Whilst I was studying filmmaking, the only white male in our group said, “You have to be a Black lesbian over forty in a wheelchair” to get an opportunity. None of the others voiced opposition. Why? He spoke loudest, most often, and had strong opinions. He wore a suit. All of the teachers were white men. He was about to make a movie, via his connections, who were all were white men. He therefore became the dominant minority. The irony was lost on him.

News flash: If you tick a diversity box, the red carpet doesn’t magically unroll.

I am emphatically not saying that white writers should be excluded from new positions. Everyone should have a chance. I know white male writers, who’ve been told by management companies, “I won’t even put you forward. They’re only looking for diversity hires.” Creating that schism is entirely counterproductive.  

Referring to all white straight men as a homogeneous group, is as unhelpful as talking about all Black people as if they’re the same. You don’t make allies by alienating people. 

However, every room should be representative of the makeup of the population. The exceptions are shows about a particular cultural group. For example, you can’t have one Black writer on a show about a Black family. And please, Asian writers don’t just write Asian parts!

Certainly, our successful writers, directors and actors in Australia have a definite skew.

Without thinking, write a list of the top ten Australian actors. Notice anything?

In 2021, the majority audience, for most of the box office performers, were people of colour. Yet only three of the ten leads in those top performers were not white. Moreover, films written or directed by people of colour in 2021 had significantly more diverse casts than those written or directed by white men. Films that had at least a 21% diverse cast, enjoyed the highest median global box office receipts.

Greater diversity of screenwriters translates to better box office receipts.

The success of Everything Everywhere All At Once, with its predominantly Asian cast and wacky storytelling, is remarkable. Different works. Diversity isn’t a niche. It’s your audience. 

Gender: Smart women telling uncomfortable truths are aggressive, defensive, and difficult troublemakers. Men saying the same thing are assertive, true to their values, uncovering the issues, and speaking their truth. 

We want to hear all voices, but please keep your rage soft.

Uncomfortable truths make us uncomfortable. Instinct tells us to deal with people who won’t challenge us. We build rapport quickly with and favour people who ‘get’ us. It’s difficult to relate to someone whose worldview is foreign.

Ageism: Few entry-level positions for people over forty means few fresh outlooks from people over forty. Movie stars over forty want roles with an authentic voice, a voice that understands what it’s like to be over forty. 

Caregivers: Primary caregivers of children or ill parents are most often women. How many single mums are in writers’ rooms or on set? Unpredictable, long hours and the cost of childcare exclude them. However, some female showrunners and directors accommodate caregivers, because they are caregivers. It can be done.

There is an intersectionality of bias. For example, a Black lesbian over forty in a wheelchair experiences a conjunction of unconscious biases, not a conjunction of opportunity.

If you want to fly, you’ve got to ruffle some feathers. Different isn’t wrong. It’s just unfamiliar to the people guarding the gates.

– Phoenix Black

I’m an Asian woman of colour, over forty, with a disability in management. I challenge the status quo just by walking into a room. 

Being a change agent is a rocky, lonely path. My best friend said, “Why can’t you just leave it alone? Why do you have to get into the fight?” I answered, “The problem is that not enough people get into the fight. The problem is apathy and a lack of empathy.” 

People who have not been ‘other’ don’t understand that, in some way, every day is a fight.

People in traditionally underrepresented groups will never find their place if they fight alone. People outside of those groups also have to call for accountability and action. To be silent is to be complicit. 

Unconscious bias is a key area of interest for you. Can you expand on that a little more?

Unconscious bias is when you unconsciously think or feel something about a group.

Imagine your only daughter says she’s getting married. She’s twenty. You don’t know the person, and she’s not giving you details. You can see she’s nervous. She’s invited them to dinner. You’re freaking out. You think ‘I can accept this person as long as they’re not –’

The end of that sentence is your unconscious bias.

Movies teach us unconscious bias: who is sexy, cool, should lead, who are heroes. In the most popular tween movies, that’s white men. 

Captain America, Superman, Batman, Spiderman, Antman, Thor, Wolverine, most of the Harry Potter World, and Twilight. Even Jack Sully in Avatar, before he turned blue. 

I want my 13-year-old Korean son to embrace his Asian culture. To believe he can be the hero in his story. Where are the English-speaking kid’s movies that put Asians in the lead?  

We are choosing to produce movies that will not just influence but define.

Story conventions are biased against diverse stories.

If you want to fly, you’ve got to ruffle some feathers. Different isn’t wrong. It’s just unfamiliar to the people guarding the gates. 

In order for diverse stories and diverse writers to have any chance in this industry, the lens by which we view story needs to be adjusted. Diverse stories do not conform to Western conventions. Diverse stories have different structures, character arcs, character agency and pacing. It’s all different.

To quote author J. Koen Alonso, “BIPOC stories aren’t just Western structures with different skin colours and mythologies.”

The current expectation is that every character has to transform starkly, preferably for the better. Each scene should have conflict. In many Asian cultures, conflict is distasteful. It shows weakness and a lack of respect for tradition. Our personal stories are often of the good guy coming last. 

Of course, no one Asian person represents the entirety of Asian culture and storytelling. RRR and Pathaan have character agency in overdrive. 

My dear American friend visited the US after five years of living in Cambodia. 

“I finally understand the difference between Americans and Asians. When Americans see a mountain in their way, they punch through it. Asians go around, like a river. They wear the mountain away.”

What advice would you give newbies who want to pursue scriptwriting? Why?

Let’s assume you’ve developed your craft. You can take feedback without being crushed. You know how to research and when to stop. You know how to edit. You overcome the writer’s self-loathing, self-criticism and self-doubt. Many writers have mental health issues such as anxiety and depression. You work at least two jobs – one in the imagination and one in the real world. Maybe you care for children or ill parents. You manage all of that and have a market-ready product. You know how to finish one project and move onto the next. You have grit. You know it might be your third or twelfth script that gets sold. You know how to market yourself. That’s the bare minimum you need to be a writer. 

More specifically – 

Get a life. If you want to write something interesting, be interesting. If you have no life experience, get some. Travel, meet people outside of your usual crowd, and volunteer. If you have something unique about you, such as a disability or tragedy, bring that into your scripts. I’m not saying you have to do cocaine to write Cocaine Bear. 

Continue to work on your craft. Get feedback. Learn what feedback to take and what to reject. 

Toughen the hell up. Persist.  

Make genuine connections with other writers and people in the movie business. Give to the writing community more than you take. 

Volunteer for student or short films. Understanding the process, from page to screen, improves your writing. My current project came through an actor on a student film. He knew a producer looking for a screenwriter.

Make something. I hate giving this advice because I hate that it’s true. People are more likely to read your script if they see your work. So find a film crew looking for a script. Or learn to film your own work. 

Other writers are not your competition. We are all in the same ship. We rise together.

Surround yourself with cheerleaders. Plenty of family and friends will ask, “Where is this going?” “What’s your plan B?” You’ll have enough self-doubt without others heaping on.  

Look after your mental health and your back. It’s a solitary job. You dwell on your own thoughts and sit on your ass a lot. Connect with people. Stretch. 

Overnight success is a one-in-billion chance. Learn how to market yourself. Unfortunately, there’s no script fairy coming to help you! You can create a masterpiece, but the right person has to read it. 

Most importantly, you don’t need everyone to love your work. You just need to have the one right person. It’s like love. And I’m still searching for The One.

Tingling! Keanu Reeves Is My Muse, My Son Is A Dragon is a Top 5 finalist in the Big Break Screenwriting Comp!!! Thanks @finaldraftinc for supporting my out-there fantasy family drama.

Congrats to all the other finalists. #KeanuReeves https://t.co/rTgKoty3iM

— Phoenix Black:Keanu Is My Muse, My Son Is A Dragon (@PhoenixBlackNow) December 2, 2022

The post Phoenix Black – Flight Of The Phoenix appeared first on The Networking Magazine.

If you are unfamiliar with the name, let me tell you first-hand that her brand has amassed some 200k social media followers and growing. A highly educated creative Julia Mindar turned her passion for photography and modelling into the dizzy heights of a celebrity influencer.

Julia Mindar was born and raised in Ukraine. She Got her Bachelor’s and Master’s degrees in Banking and management in Poland, where she occasionally modelled and did photography. Interestingly, besides modelling gigs, her first job was as a personal trainer at a gym. But that lasted only briefly as it didn’t provide enough flexibility or financial benefit. So soon after graduating and returning to Ukraine, she decided to pursue her fame and fortune in Los Angeles. 

Photographer

By admission, her knowledge of how to capture a professional photo that reflects her experience, the depth of light and angles provides an unparalleled advantage for a model. Julia continually sets a non-negotiable high standard that resonates well with aspiring models. In addition, the ability to capture multiple looks defines an inability to be confined to one genre. 

The social media landscape is continuously evolving. This pushes influencers to maintain a very high level of content designed to captivate and identify with a fan base. If there is such a thing as a responsive online celebrity who knows precisely what to do and when to do it, Julia Midar is one of them.

“Don’t compare yourself to anyone else and know your worth”.

– Julia Mindar

Model

Featured on the cover of Maxim, it brought a new dimension to a professional career and helped cement her brand. An iconic look also drew significant international media attention. Multiple Instagram accounts encompass her skill set. These include @juliamindarphoto @juliamindar.photo @mindarphoto @eventphoto_la @juliamindar.ar @julia_mindar.

Each one identifies through an array of images. But this isn’t a story of just success. So instead, I wanted to learn more about Julia’s story highlighting some of the challenges she faced early on in her career and how she overcame them. 

Influencer

In a world filled with influencers from all walks of life, particularly on Instagram, I wanted; Dare To Dream to help inspire new talent. My particular interest was in how education, focus, attention to detail and beautifully captured images carved out a career from humble beginnings. I caught up with Julia Mindar in Los Angeles for a candid conversation about her journey. 

They say modelling is a skill, using light, shade, filters and positioning to play to an advantage. Is this true?

Yes, this is very true. I recently viewed my photos from years ago and was astonished by how much progress I’ve made. Knowing your best sides, how to use your body to achieve the best angles, and lighting knowledge contribute to a successful photo’s key components. Being a photographer is a cheat code because I know precisely how lighting works and am very attentive to details.

You have a unique perspective on modelling. You have worked both sides of the lens. Does this give you an advantage? Why?

My experience in photography gives me an advantage. Funny enough, photographers absolutely love me as I am ‘one of their kind’, but some also mentioned being intimidated by how good my work is compared to theirs and feeling nervous about working with me.

Working both sides of a camera is something that I thrive on, and I enjoy the experience.

At what age did you realise you wanted to be involved with photography? Is it something you discovered, or did someone point you in that direction?

Definitely discovered, and I am not sure how it happened. I was about 18, and I wanted a good camera. I started it as a hobby, and a big part of it was editing. I have loved playing with Photoshop since I was a kid, so I believe all of this came from my love of art and painting. I attended an art school when I was little.

It was more a sequence of events rather than a strategy. Downloaded from the universe, call it fate. I found related industries that I have a passion for being involved with.

You are now an influencer. However, how much of what you do requires social media content, and is it difficult to always play to the demands of your followers?

Oh, God. Nowadays, it feels like you can only do business with a social media presence. Most of my LA career is built around my Instagram. From getting the first clients to sending it as my portfolio when requested. Nobody wants to look at your website anymore. 

What was your biggest accomplishment? Why?

It is hard to judge oneself, but I am proud of the name and influence I’ve built for myself over the past few years as both a photographer and a model. 

We have all learnt from our mistakes in one way or another. Do you have a lesson you have learnt that helped you to follow your dreams?

Not to compare myself to anyone else and to know your own worth. 

You have acted, and this brought a different dimension to your career. Can you tell the audience about that experience?

It is impossible not to get caught into acting while working as a model in LA. Acting in commercials and music videos inspired me to dive deeper into attending a 2-year acting program. That was a life-changing experience that I recommend to everyone. Acting is definitely more challenging. It requires a lot of work and dedication; however most of the time, it’s an unpaid effort. So it is not for the weak-hearted.

If you had three wishes, what would they be? Why?

Wow, that is a hard question. I want to increase my influence to have a bigger platform to help and educate people. I want to do more acting in the future and wish to do more work internationally! 

© All photographs used for the purpose of this editorial have been attributed to the photographer by way of a hyperlink. Where production is indicated, express permission from the intellectual property holder has been given.

More Editorials

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He is currently premiering at the Horror On Sea Festival with four notable features. We talk to the actor behind Tales Of The Great War, Mosiac, Casting Kill and Horrorscopes, to name a few.

An interview with Peter Tilley.

The Indie scene is riddled with challenges, from finding finance to distribution. However, there are credible reasons to get involved with a genre that allows total control over a process, not to mention the rewards.

The Networking Magazine talks to the iconic British actor.
Peter Tilley is a 23-year-old British actor well known for his work within the Indie Film scene. Top credits include Tales from the Great War, Casting Kill and Video Shop Tales Of Terror. He has established excellent relationships with Indie filmmakers, working with Raya Films, TIS Films and Trash Arts, for example.

Peter has loved acting from a very young age, committing to being involved in acting curriculum activities at secondary school and studying Drama for his GCSE exams. He loves to work on Indie films, helping to bring these passion projects for the filmmakers to life and also developing his own skills as an actor.

When did you realise you wanted to be a part of the Indie industry?

I’ve always had a huge amount of love for Indie Films. It was back in 2020, when Covid hit the U.K., and we were put into lockdown for months, that I discovered the U.K. indie film scene and so had the time to watch a lot of the filmmakers work.

I was drawn to how incredible these films were, how much passion and originality was put into these movies and made on such low budgets, still achieving some fantastic pieces of work.
I knew from then on that I wanted to work with these filmmakers, so I started networking on Twitter!

If you had to list a failure, what would it be, and how did it impact you?

Not necessarily a failure as such, but this would be a good example to use. I applied to a casting call for a great character in an Indie film from a fantastic production company that I very much wanted to work with, but unfortunately didn’t get the role. I was gutted, but I was aware that rejection is all part of the process in this industry.

A couple of months later, they reached out to me and offered me a role in another film they were working on. So it goes to show that even if you didn’t get offered the part that time, it will always happen at another point.

“No matter our age or experience, there’s always something new to learn”.

– Peter Tilley

What is the Indie Movie scene like in the U.K.?

It’s fantastic! I recently attended the Horror-On-Sea film festival, which took place in Southend-On-Sea, where it celebrated its 10th anniversary. So a vast range of different Indie filmmaker’s work were shown in short and feature film formats, some of which premiered for the very first time.
The community is seriously incredible.

There are so many talented, creative individuals, all supportive of one another and assisting in helping with each other’s work. That’s the thing. We all strive towards the same goal: to create some great movies, telling important messages and bringing stories to life that the audience will enjoy. I’m very privileged and lucky to have worked with some of these filmmakers, and I can honestly say that I have made some great friends for life.

What was the most significant accomplishment to date and why?

The past two years have been quite surreal! There have been so many fantastic moments.
An accomplishment I am very proud of is a film I star in as a lead role titled ‘Tales from the Great War, a World War One horror/thriller film from director Andrew Elias which had its World Premiere at the Horror-On-Sea film festival recently.

It was a huge moment for me as a lot of my family and friends were in attendance for the screening, and to see them watching my work on the big screen for the first time ever is something I’ve dreamed of since I was a kid. When Andrew got up on stage to introduce the film to the audience, and he mentioned me in a special little shoutout, to see the audience give a round of applause to my name, that nearly brought me to tears!

Peter Tilley

If you could rewind time, would you do anything differently?

I’d start even younger! Time is so precious. I’m very privileged for what I’ve achieved so far this early on in my career. I am very grateful for the opportunities I’ve been provided. Still, there were so many years of being on the back burner, not doing anything acting-wise. If I could get those years back, I would have jumped into this filmmaking world even sooner! But do I regret anything? No! In my opinion, life’s too short for regrets.

“Always work on your craft”.

– Peter Tilley

If you could speak to a group of new actors, what words of wisdom would you give them and why?

The first key to success is to believe in yourself. Anything can happen when you put your mind to it. Secondly, network wisely. So many great things can happen from doing this. It’s all about making connections in this industry.

Always work on your craft. We are continuously learning. No matter our age or experience, there’s always something new to learn. Lastly, and most importantly, never give up!

Did you meet any resistance from family and friends when deciding to start a career in acting?

Luckily my family and friends have always been very supportive and interested in my passion for acting. I’m very appreciative of the love, support and praise they have shown me towards my work. It’s a great feeling to make people proud of who you are as a person and what you do.

Can you tell the audience about the movie projects you were involved with?

I’ve been fortunate to be involved with a lot of projects! Tales from the Great War is a horror/thriller film set against the backdrop of World War One, featuring a number of well-known Indie film actors and special guest appearances. Then I appear in Horrorscopes: Volume One, where I play an evil centaur named Sagittarius. That was fun!

Peter, do you have an end goal?

I’m on an exciting journey. As for where that final destination will take me to, who knows? The sky is the limit!

What projects are on the horizon?

There are a lot of exciting projects in the works; 2023 is going to be busy!
I’m filming The Other Side in March, a short drama/thriller film from Mitchell Burrows with a male-heavy cast. It’s a very important story to tell to the audience.

After that, I’ll be moving on to Murder in the Auditorium – a murder mystery set in a theatre! Then at some point, I’ll film Video Shop Tales Of Terror 3: Pick ‘N’ Mix, which I’m very excited about!

Editorial credits

X3 Headshots – Lumosia @WeAreLumosia

Tales from the Great War Digital Art

Credit – Visual Artist Ali Vermeeren (Emily Corn: Discovering Darkness)

Tales from the Great War Stills

Credit – Director – Andrew Elias

Director of Photography – Daniel Parkes

The Other Side Poster Credit – Mitchell Burrows

Raya Films

Trashartsfilm

LCA Talent Management

Horrorscopes: Volume One Director – Martin W. Payne Director of Photography

Jason Impe plays ‘Sagittarius’ in this movie. He portrays ‘Ginger’ in Tales from the Great War and ‘Ross’ in The Other Side.

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John Capodice-My Way

In the theatre, I was on Broadway with “Requiem for a Heavyweight” and toured with Al Pacino in “American Buffalo”. I also worked in numerous dinner theatres and regional theatres all over the country.

My Way

John Capodice needs no introduction. An unquestionable work ethic which sets a non-negotiable standard. His professional career in television and film started back in the 1970s. He racked up an incredible portfolio of appearances. I have listed a few below.

Ryan’s Hope

Knots Landing

Hunter

Law & Order

Moonlighting

Will & Grace

CSI

Theatre

Theatre was also a passion of his, winning two Outer Critics Circle awards. A gifted actor, he also turned his hand to notable film voice-over work.

As I scrolled through the list of movies under his belt, I began to realise that his face has appeared in all our lives in one way or another. 

Movies

The Doors

See No Evil, Hear No Evil

Ace Ventura Pet Detective

Speed

Independence Day

Enemy Of The State

Questions

Why did you choose to become an actor?

One doesn’t choose acting; it chooses you. I wish that I could be more specific, but after half a century of living this life, I’m still pursuing it.

Hopefully, this provides a bit of insight into what it is to be an actor.

What were your initial reservations about your career choice?

I’m not so sure. I suppose it slowly came upon me, and it never stopped. 

I was at a film festival with a well-known character actor, and he said, “You will stop when you don’t want it anymore.”

Did you meet with any resistance from friends or family at the point where you started your career?

Sure, all my friends thought I was nuts, but it didn’t stop me. On the contrary, my mother encouraged me the most in spite of not knowing much about the acting profession.

Do you believe that the key to a successful career in acting is never to say no? Why?

Absolutely. Each time they tell you no, you pick yourself up from the ground and say yes. Never ever accept no. Remember, it’s not about rejection. The casting people are going a different way, and you’ll get the next one.

What advice would you give if there was such a thing as a parallel universe and you met yourself at age nineteen? Why?

I would tell myself to pursue the fundamentals, i.e. agent, drama school, pictures and resumes. In fact, all, the business side of it which was not my strong point.

If I could turn back the clock at the precise moment you decided about your career choice, what other options did you have?

As far as other options, I didn’t have any. You see, acting was in my blood.

John Capodice notable films

Wall Street

The Doors

Ace Ventura Pet Detective

The Phantom

John Capodice notable TV credits

CSI LA

Seinfeld

Law and Order

Ellen

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The Indie Movie scene has literally boomed over the last few years. The movie industry has recognised it on almost an even keel with some big-budget productions.

“The most honest form of filmmaking is to make a film for yourself.”

– Peter Jackson.

Poster features – Jon Jacobs (top) and Charlotte Lewis (Bottom 2nd from right).

Writers, producers and directors have struggled to raise funding and battled with completing projects. Finally, however, these unsung heroes, often shunned by those who have followed a traditional route, are now emerging from the sidelines to share the limelight. We caught up with William Wayne, the iconic film writer, producer and director. Today, his meteoric rise from humble beginnings places him firmly in a position of decision-making. Now the Seattle Film Festival director with successful movies under his belt, he talks to us about his professional and personal growth.

“A story should have a beginning, a middle, and an end…but not necessarily in that order.”

– Jean-Luc Godard.

How did your story begin?

I grew up on a farm in Illinois outside of Chicago. Growing up, my mother was an elementary school teacher and noticed I was interested in the violin. So when I was four, she started me on violin lessons which I loved. My father, a talented artist and art teacher taught me how to paint. That is when I learned “even mistakes are beautiful” in art. While in school, I won several nationwide art contests which later helped pay for part of my college tuition at the University of Washington.

I discovered my passion for acting during my senior year at the University of Washington. After graduating in Communication, I performed in the Seattle-based Fringe theatre, where I played a wide variety of characters. I loved acting in plays in the Northwest as I found it extremely rewarding and soon was cast in my very first role, a small one, in a feature film with Dana Ashbrook (Twin Peaks), Tisha Campbell (My Wife and Kids), Brock Peters (To Kill a Mockingbird) and Billy Dee Williams (Star Wars Trilogy). Later, I acted in several features, including one co-starring Rosanna Arquette, which was nominated at the Tribeca Film Festival and spurred me on to study filmmaking and write a screenplay titled Lost Angelas. Since I didn’t have much of a budget, I bartended at several locations in LA to help finance Lost Angelas.

Your story is textbook, as you started as a bartender and up.

Yes, I studied acting and worked as a bartender for years. I met so many people who became lifelong friends during this time, many who later acted or contributed their skills as crew members for my film. So when it came time for the premiere of Lost Angelas, it really meant a lot to me that they showed up in support, and we even filled a 400-seat theatre at the Method Fest Film Festival.

How much was luck, and how much was skill?

The question of how much was luck and how much was skill is a good one. My luck improved when I decided to make my own film.

As my filmmaking skills progressed, I won several short film awards. After that, I focused purely on directing my feature film screenplay. I tried to cast an actor friend in the role I eventually played in Lost Angelas. However, due to my indie budget, I realized I would have to film and edit the movie over several years. My friend wouldn’t have that kind of availability, so I played the role myself and I am glad I did, as I really loved acting in it.

During the filming and editing process of Lost Angelas, I continued working as a bartender to finance the production. This proved challenging as I would only have a few days off a week to work on my film and it took me six years to finish the movie. However, I was very fortunate that my lead actors, Korrina Rico, Jon Jacobs and John Capodice, were committed to their roles in the film over the complete span of the production. During this time, we were also fortunate to include the exceptional talent of David Proval (The Sopranos), John Aprea (Godfather 2) and Charlotte Lewis (The Golden Child) to our cast.

“Don’t let anyone ever make you feel like you don’t deserve what you want.”

-Heath Ledger

Did the story of your film just come to you, or did you have to dig deep to find it?

I have always loved Film Noir as well as Neo-Noir, and I wanted to make something that would live in that genre. As I started to think about what I would like to watch, a plot outline jumped into my head: Angela Rose, a famous actress nominated for the upcoming awards season, goes missing, and the only lead to her disappearance is her ex-fiancé, a struggling screenwriter. Haunted by memories he cannot explain, the screenwriter journeys through the underbelly of Hollywood and uncovers a secret connection he has with a vanished movie star, also named Angela who had similarly disappeared thirty years ago.

I wrote and rewrote the screenplay and had a couple of friends take a look at it, including Jen Zias. I liked her insight and thought we would work well together. Within a year, we brought the script to several notable veteran actors whom I admired, and they were interested in being a part of the project.

Six years to make a movie is testing. What lessons did you learn?

Wow, my ambition with Lost Angelas was originally to get it accepted in film festivals and have its premiere in a movie theatre. I quickly found this would be more challenging than it sounded. What I learned when I was younger, practising the violin and learning to paint, became valuable in making my film as I knew that the time put into working on something does pay off. No one could give me a shortcut to making my film work because, ultimately, I had to learn it and earn it myself. For example, each time I went into the editing room after filming a scene, I had to start from scratch and build it. There was no shortcut to making a scene work; I had to continually earn it.

What did you find as the line between creativity and decision-making?

Planning out my creative vision was essential because once we were on set, I was busy problem-solving. The quicker I could solve each issue, the better the shoot turned out and the more time I had for the artistic side of filmmaking. I often drew upon that lesson I learned as a kid from my father regarding art, “even the mistakes are beautiful.” I tried to implement that concept while filming Lost Angelas after an accident or mistake happened. I saw it as an opportunity to turn this into something beautiful.

I learned in time that tenaciousness does pay off. Before long, the film started taking shape and began to interest friends to see my latest edit, many of whom would end up working with me on the post-production process.

We turned the corner when Lost Angelas was accepted to the Method Fest Film Festival. The Lost Angelas premiere at the festival was sold out and couldn’t have gone better. I was particularly impressed at how great the festival directors treated all the filmmakers. Soon after that, we began to get accepted into additional festivals and won more awards. It all culminated when we were nominated at Film Threat’s “Award This!” show and won Best Indie Film and Best Director.

I didn’t know it yet, but the process I was learning by having Lost Angelas play in film festivals would be very beneficial.

How did you get involved with the Seattle Film Festival, and why?

Lost Angelas played theatrically for a week at the Laemmle Theater in Pasadena at the Playhouse 7. Next, I flew up to Seattle to have it played for a week at the Grand Illusion Cinema. At one of my screenings, I met the filmmakers who started the Seattle Film Festival in 2013. They were re-launching their festival after a couple years away and encouraged me to submit my film. Lost Angelas screened successfully at the Seattle Film Festival, and I had a great time.

 In 2020 when the pandemic started, I moved from LA to Seattle and reconnected with the festival. I was given a chance to work as a festival judge. The following year turned out to be a busy year for me as I was hired to direct a music video, edit commercials, campaigns and a variety of other projects. In 2022 I was thrilled to hear from the festival once again as they were going to screen movies back in the theatre for the first time since the pandemic began. At this time, I was offered the opportunity to organize the festival. I was very excited about the challenge and brought on my co-producer of Lost Angelas, Michael Rey, to be a co-director with me.  

I loved being a festival director as I had the opportunity to champion deserving films and filmmakers worldwide. This year the festival presented a large selection of films from talented student filmmakers to acclaimed visionary directors. I am in awe of the quality of storytelling, and filmmaking exhibited to the audience at this year’s festival.

Directors of the Seattle Film Festival

Photography by – @marinaboichuk

Featuring Michael Rey the co-producer of Lost Angelas and the co-director of the Seattle Film Festival.

Indie vs studio movies, what are your thoughts?

I identify with the stories and struggles of indie movies but also enjoy studio productions. In some cases, creativity is born out of a lack of budget, which is where some indie movies shine. For instance, when I couldn’t film again at a location we used previously, I would paint the walls of my apartment and have it stand in for that location. Although I had to do this several times, no one was the wiser, including my assistant editors. An additional benefit of this compromise was that now I could take my time to set up complicated shots necessary for my transitions in editing.

It is great that audiences have gotten behind studio films such as big-budget superhero movies. However, indie films often present different voices and raw storytelling that are rare in big-budget movies. I think many studio movies may be more concerned about making their movie for global audiences where it can make more money internationally but in doing so, the movie may lose quite a bit of character and uniqueness.

If you could turn back the clock, would you have done anything differently and why?

Most definitely. One thing I was surprised to find is that I didn’t need the most expensive camera or the biggest crew to make the best version of my film. Some of the days when I had a cheaper camera and smaller crew due to budget restraints, I would come away with a more beautiful and better scene. I think this adds to the philosophy that if you have a script, go out and film it. You don’t have to wait for a million-dollar budget to get permission to be a filmmaker.

Shorts, why are they proving to be so popular?

Shorts are a great way of learning filmmaking. They take less time to make and you can learn quicker and get faster feedback because of this. It also works well in this era where YouTube and social media have an audience with a shorter attention span. Another advantage of making a short film is that the odds are better of getting it into a film festival that has a limited amount of time reserved in a theatre. For instance, instead of playing one 90-minute feature film, a festival can play six or seven short films from different filmmakers.

I recently directed a music video for a song on an album nominated for a Grammy. I enjoyed how the film shoot had such a fast turnaround. The idea, the planning, the execution of the filming and the editing all happened within a week. That was very refreshing compared to my six-year journey making Lost Angelas.

With all that being said, I still love making feature films. I love the determination, persistence and creative exploration where a feature film can take you.

In the future, how do you think your industry will change?

The industry has been changing so much. It wasn’t long ago when making an indie feature film meant you needed a budget of at least half a million dollars. You would have also needed to shoot your film on a 35 millimeter film camera to have a chance to get into a film festival. The process of doing this would have been costly. Now, digital filmmaking can be done with consumer cameras. As a result, budgets are drastically lower and people who might not have had a chance to direct can now display their talent.

In addition, digital platforms allow filmmakers to show their work. Previously, films competed for the same few cable stations. I love indie films, but the biggest question for indie filmmakers is how to get a good return on their investment. If their movie is not being produced by a studio, is there a formula to make a profit? Many filmmakers I have spoken with discuss and explain how there is a huge audience for indie films, but their contracts with these distributors do not always show this. This is an area I wish to address on our panels at the festival next year.

I was very fortunate navigating these waters with Lost Angelas as I was guided by one of my actors, Jon Jacobs, who had previously produced and distributed many films. In the future, I would like to see distributors offering better deals to indie filmmakers that reflect the value of their films. 

“ I just wanted to say thank you Sanj for the amount of work you put into this interview. From the initial phone call to your research and follow-up emails, I really appreciate your professionalism.”

– William Wayne

We wish William success with his new projects and hope to catch up with him again in our Podcast series soon.

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Laurita Gruodytė-Žilė was the winner of Top Model UK Classic 2021. We talk to Laurita about the industry and her career.

The model in me.

Laurita Gruodytė-Žilė

Photography by – @elwira_posiak_wansorra Perfume: @crystaldaiva

Modelling Origins

The origins of this industry date back to when people posed for portraits and paintings. The invention of the camera in the early 1800s divided it into many micro sectors. These include fashion, beauty and accessories, to name a few. Although a career path, the pay was historically poorly paid and known to be highly competitive. However, decades later, modelling is evolving from the sidelines and presenting opportunity. Needless to say that now pay is in line with other industries. Social media has influenced how models are perceived, so, in many cases, influencers are now wearing the same badge. 

“A rose can never be a sunflower, and a sunflower can never be a rose. All flowers are beautiful in their own way, and that’s like women too. I want to encourage women to embrace their own uniqueness.”

— Miranda Kerr

The Journey

A constantly evolving passion for carving out a niche. We caught up with Laurita Gruodytė-Žilė. Winner of Top Model UK Classic 2021, we talk to Laurita about the modelling industry and her career. Moving to the UK in 2005, she felt that she needed change. Participating in local modelling competitions from age 15, she instinctively knew modelling was of interest to her as a career path.

Where were you born?

I was born in Lithuania.

How would your friends describe you?

My friends would describe me as happy and jolly with a strong sense of personality who loves to socialise and create a positive, loving and welcoming environment with everyone I encounter.

She had a strong bond with apparel, often putting different outfits together, and a love for everything in fashion. Seamlessly experimenting with fashion accessories and colour options, she continues experimenting with colours, fabrics and design options even today. So, on some level, I personally think that these traits complement her passion for modelling.

Who was the first person who told you that you should be a model?

Everyone in my family always encouraged me to get involved in competitions and photoshoots. I met no resistance, and I’m proud to say that it helped me to achieve. So, personally and professionally, family support is very important, and I’m very thankful for that. In contrast, I know that not all models have that support mechanism, so I feel very fortunate.

Is the modelling path very competitive? Why?

It is pretty competitive because everyone’s always trying to make themselves known, especially in competitions. After all, everyone wants to win. Moreover, models have to conform to a particular look in the past in contrast to today, where there is a step towards a realistic look. 

It’s still competitive; however, compared to the past, models now have tools like social media to give them a competitive edge. Ultimately, we are all competing to win contracts, and I don’t think that will ever change.

“Always surround yourself with positive people”.

– Laurita Gruodytė-Žilė

Is the world of modelling glamorous?

Yes, it’s definitely glamorous. But, in addition, there’s lots of beauty and excitement. The ambience of fashion shows and your relationship with the designers impacts how a model feels. Some reasons models love this industry are red carpet events, parties, and photo shoots.

Who would you love to model for?

My ultimate dream would be to model for luxury clothing brands such as Chanel, Burberry and Gucci. I think that it would be such a fantastic experience. Those brands were and still are iconic. Furthermore, they still influence fashion trends.

What was it like to win the TOP MODEL UK Classic 2021?

It was absolutely unreal. The competition was huge with so many beautiful people. I never expected it. I felt extremely happy and honoured.

Laurita’s first competition was the: Southern Elegance modelling event in 2017. It was a launch pad for her career as following that; she had offers from designers, photo shoot opportunities and fashion show invitations. She told me that the experience was glamorous, exciting and inspiring.

What would you say if you had to summarise your life in one paragraph?

My life is full of good and creative energy, so I’ve always found it interesting. I’ve constantly found new opportunities to be myself everywhere I have been. I always felt I was in the right place at the right time. No matter how hard it can get, I’ve always told myself that you need to do what makes you happy, and I’ve always stayed true to that.

What advice would you give anyone who has an interest in modelling?

Firstly, it’s good to have a high level of self-belief. Secondly, dare to confront your fears and gain experience. Finally, the more you network, the more you gain self-confidence, which will open doors. Furthermore, you need a high level of confidence to distance yourself from the competition.

“Don’t let anything hold you back. Keep going”.

– Laurita Gruodytė-Žilė

Laurita gave me the impression that, on the one hand, someone can have a distinct look and a love for fashion. However, they still need to use available tools such as social media to create opportunities. On the other hand, there is a degree of being at the right place, at the right time. Furthermore, you must create opportunities for yourself and maintain a strong work ethic—a lasting impression from a model who continues to forge her way forward in her career. So, newbies must keep motivated and active on social media to enter this industry. Also, believe in yourself to develop your confidence, which can give you a competitive edge.

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Mauro had dreamt of a professional football career that would clash with an unconventional tattoo lifestyle at that time.

“I was a rebel without a clue”.

-Mauro Imperatori

Art and music were passions and remained in the background with the ultimate goal of emigrating to either the US or the UK. However, strong ambition would be the driving force that facilitated a hunger to find his fame and fortune. Tattoos always had a strong connection in his mind; it was part of a lifestyle reliant on the music scene. 

Artist origin

A few friends were experimenting with tattoos at school. Mauro picked up a sewing needle and created his first small design on his hand. 

Chapter one began in the ’90s. A move to a bustling London scene where music impacted his lifestyle would find him submerged. Many jobs would see him work, from a hairdresser in Kensington market to a doorman in the legendary Intrepid Fox in London.

Mauro the brand

One year rolled into another, and that only played to the scene. A striking Mohican with an array of Tattoos was a good fit for London, where his style and brand developed.

The Networking Magazine was keen to interview Mauro. A man stooped with history and a way of life that would see him carve a successful professional career in the Tattoo industry.

How did you get involved with tattoos?

Tattoos always fascinated me; some of my favourite bands all had them. Of course, that conception of a rebel and an outlaw lifestyle wasn’t for everyone, but it always attracted me.

So, I would say that from the early 2000s, a really good friend of mine who was also a tattooist pushed me to tattoo myself, and I liked it. However, nothing happened until 2007/ 2008, when I decided to get back into my art, drawing and painting. It led me to a place that fitted me perfectly.

I got an apprenticeship at a place called; True Love tattoo in Denmark Place, and this is where my journey started.

Do you think that it’s an art form?

I believe it can be considered an art form, but I think it is more of a craft.

Who was your influence?

Some of my favourites are; Paul Booth, Bob Tyrrel, Felip Lue, Robert Hernandez, Guy Atchinson, Freddie Negrete, and Jack Rudy, to name a few.

What was your most complicated tattoo, and why?

I don’t have a specific one that comes to mind; however, I always think the next one will always be the hardest. The next tattoo always keeps me on my toes.

Do you assist with the designs?

Times have changed regarding this, the internet is a wealth of information, and people can do substantial research online.

Very often, people bring their designs with them. I’m always available to offer input and advice, especially for custom work. I also offer my designs or tattoo concepts if needed.

How do people train to be tattoo artist?

Now more than ever, the requirement is to have basic art and drawing skills and working industry knowledge. This means basic history, the names, the styles and an understanding of the tools involved.

Sadly, the tattoo lifestyle that I have always known is changing as the world of social media replaces some of those values. However, it’s always less of a taboo and more socially acceptable within most age groups. 

There are lots of skilled artists who are now involved in my industry, and competition is high. In the old days, the only way was to look for an apprenticeship in a shop. In my opinion, this is the best way to learn this craft.

Hours and hours will soon mount up and eventually lead to a skill base you can apply under supervision. 

How have designs changed over the last five years?

Social media has played a significant part. Small minimalistic or abstract designs with fine line detail have become extremely popular in the last five to ten years.

Trends and new designs have their peaks and troughs in terms of popularity. The social media landscape often dictates those trends. Lions and pocket watches were very dominant in my line of work. I would say these designs found me rather than me looking for them. Like any Tattoo artist, you become an expert over time within an inevitable trend. 

If you could speak to a younger version of yourself, what advice would you give?

I would tell him to be his own boss and to make his own choices. 

If something doesn’t feel right, make a change because nobody will do it for you.

– Mauro Imperatori

KINGS CROSS STUDIO

PRESS HERE

The post Tattoo artist – Mauro Imperatori appeared first on The Networking Magazine.

With over 435k Instagram followers, Chelsea LeSage is now an influencer and firmly rooted in the movie industry. 

Established

Something is alluring about the horror movie genre. So it’s intriguing appeal crosses the boundaries of generations. Fear is an emotional state that we can all relate to. My memories of staying up late at age 12 to watch Christopher Lee portraying Dracula will be with me forever.

Things have significantly changed over the years and paved the way forward for special effects to complement authenticity and harness new talent. In turn, this brings a welcome dimension to an already established sector.

TV has indeed stolen some of the limelight on some level; however, there is an argument to suggest that this only generates a broader audience. In addition, emerging stars now have social media on their side, a voice online that can often bang on the doors of opportunity.

Chelsea LeSage the brand

Chelsea LeSage; influencer, model, actress, writer and producer. An eclectic mix of skills that have now defined her brand. In this interview, I wanted to steer away from tradition and engage more personally. 

A model from the age of 16, and currently signed to; We Speak Models, her striking features and fiery red hair paved the way for success in that industry. However, a love of the arts would soon see her awarded a BFA in acting in 2014. This would facilitate a stage presence that would eventually take her on a path into the movie industry. 

Portfolio

When I viewed some of the images in her modelling portfolio, I was particularly surprised by just how many different looks she had achieved. I believe that this variety and diversity got the attention of movie and TV producers who needed someone who could appeal to a broader audience. However, this should not detract from her acting abilities; having had the privilege of meeting her, you could sense her screen presence.

Owning the camera

Chelsea knows how to play to the camera; every so often, there is a reminder that she owns it. Her striking features and unquestionable work ethic drew me to her profile. An abundance of opportunities lay in wait for this up and coming actress, who has the nickname of the mermaid. I will let you place that image in your mind before you say; oh yeah, I see it now.

Portfolio

When I viewed some of the images in her modelling portfolio, I was particularly surprised by just how many different looks she had achieved. I believe that this variety and diversity got the attention of movie and TV producers who needed someone who could appeal to a broader audience. However, this should not detract from her acting abilities; having had the privilege of meeting her, you could sense her screen presence.

Owning the camera

Chelsea knows how to play to the camera; every so often, there is a reminder that she owns it. Her striking features and unquestionable work ethic drew me to her profile. An abundance of opportunities lay in wait for this up and coming actress, who has the nickname of the mermaid. I will let you place that image in your mind before you say; oh yeah, I see it now.

Chelsea LeSage Bio

Chelsea co-founded both CL Squared Productions and Golden Grand Piano Productions. She has toured internationally in William Shakespeare’s “Henry V” and has modelled for brands such as Cover Girl, Yitty, JC Penny and Venus. Chelsea is known for her role as Julie in Amazon Prime’s “21st Century Demon Hunter,” is co-directing the series “Predator,” and is producing and playing the antagonist The Nameless in the upcoming horror feature “Bishop’s Cove.” 

Stage and screen

At 30 years old, she has portrayed Lady Macbeth in “Macbeth” numerous times, both on stage and on film. On stage, Chelsea is next lined up to play Beatrice in “Much Ado About Nothing” at the Trinity Theatre in New York and then she is to reprise her lead role of Katrina in Gordon Farrell’s “Girls Who Walked On Glass” later this year. On film, she has wrapped a short and a feature with several more in the works. Currently signed to The Bohemia Group she has lots of work in the pipeline. When she is not working Chelsea spends time on the beach with her dogs or composing music for horror films.

As a kid, what were you like?

According to my family, I was always a goofball and perpetually happy. My teachers said I was shy. They were shocked to find out I grew up to be an actor. 

As a kid, what did you want to be when you grew up?

I’ve always wanted to be a mermaid, but I remember that I went through phases. Some of the highlights were being an egyptologist in grade four, and by grade five, I was determined to be an astronaut.

Chelsea, did you have a favourite toy?

I shoplifted a stuffed Barney the dinosaur as a toddler. My family let me keep it. They swear they didn’t know I had it. We were inseparable after that.

Describe what your parents were like during your childhood?

I grew up with the best family. We were all super close, and I felt I could tell my parents anything. So Mom and dad were always supportive and hilarious and went above and beyond every single day.

Did you experience bullying while growing up?

I was 5’11 by middle school, so I was definitely the subject of bullying from mean girls who hadn’t hit puberty yet. I was made fun of for being in a band, but I never let it get to me. 

Where did you grow up?

I grew up in Pittsfield, Massachusetts, in the centre of The Berkshires. The culture and art and the influence of my tight-knit family definitely helped steer me to a life in entertainment.

What subjects were your best and worst in school? 

I have always been terrible at math. However, by the time I was in high school, some math teachers were alright with me getting tutored and would actually let me leave math class to go to the choir or band rooms. It was awesome. I loved English and history as well. 

What was the name of your favourite teacher in school?

In high school, Jess Passetto was the choir and theatre teacher. I’ll never forget going to her with my clarinet teacher Bill Chapman and telling her I wanted to move to New York and go to theatre school. So I owe an awful lot to them.

While growing up, what were your favourite games?

I played basketball and track and field. I loved the competition. And, of course, theatre and improv games were my favourites. 

What did you and your childhood friends do for fun?

We played sports, volunteered at shelters and drove around belting musical theatre!

Recount your most embarrassing childhood experience?

I did tap and jazz from a young age. However, before middle school, my family did me the kindness of letting me quit because without fail, I would fall from a high kick at literally every dress recital.

What kind of student would you say you were?

It was always important to me to do well in school. I was one of those kids where a B+ grade was the end of the world. So, with sports, music, theatre and other extracurriculars, I learned time management very young. I’m not saying I’m great at managing my time, even today, but it gave me a great foundation.

What is the craziest thing you did while in school to help your classmates?

Oh, god, I have no idea. I’d talk to boys they liked for them or occasionally, if I was brave enough, would confront people who bullied them. Nobody messes with my friends!

Do you have any talent that you consider useless? 

I have a Rolodex of Shakespeare monologues stored in my brain and randomly recite them out loud in conversation. I’m also really good at racing video games.

If I gave you the keys to a Tardis (Time Machine), where would you travel to and why?

I definitely would love to visit ancient Egypt as it was my favourite civilization to learn about. I even taught myself hieroglyphics and would love to help inscribe a pharaoh’s tomb!

It’s the end of the world, and you have been asked to write a message in a Time Capsule. What would you write and why? 

Wow, this is a good question! Of course, knowing me, I’d be facetious and say like, “Ah, I knew this was coming.” But I would also write some quotes and lyrics that have survived the centuries or that deserve to live on after the end of the world as we knew it (So Shakespeare quotes and Joni Mitchell lyrics are a must.)

If you could whisper in the ear of a 10-year-old version of yourself, what would you say and why?

I would quote Hamlet for sure when Polonius says, “To thine own self be true.” I would tell myself to always be unadulterated myself and not be afraid of others or be afraid to dream. Then, I’d make some lame joke.

If a parallel universe existed, what job do you think you would be doing and why?

Hmmmmm. I’d be doing something with the ocean or with animals. So let’s get crazy and say even ocean animals! Or, it’d be nice to be a bog witch.

They say that the older we get, the more set in our ways we become. What characteristic about you has got worse over the years?

I am SO unbelievably stubborn. I grow and learn every day, but I am more stubborn now than ever in that when I set my sights on something, I stop at nothing to achieve it.

If you were stuck on a desert island and could choose four people to be with, who would they be and why?

First would be my greatest mentor and best friend, my mother. She’d make me laugh, teach me how to make a shelter, and she’d love being on the beach forever. Second, I’d bring Neil Diamond and Stevie Nicks so we would both be entertained by our favourite artists forever. Lastly, I have no idea! Tom Hiddleston is resourceful, strong and very nice to look at.

You have just found out that you have won the lottery. What is the first thing you would do and why?

I’d pay off everyone I care about’s debts and buy my mom a horse farm! I would love the opportunity to pay back others who have helped me become who I am today.

You have just found out that you have the lead to play a superhero in a film. You get to choose two superpowers. What would they be and why? 

Invisibility is a must, as well as flying! So being able to sneak through or fly over a crowd and witness the world from a new perspective would be awesome!

What good deed would you do if money was no object and why?

It is my goal to open an animal shelter and help get them all good homes. So if I could rescue every animal, I would.

The post Chelsea LeSage-Spectral appeared first on The Networking Magazine.

Independent Films

The term multiple income streams are now more prevalent than ever before. As a result, the traditional waiting tables scenario between scriptwriting may now entail podcasting or working from home.

Don’t let the independent film sector fool you; huge names like Quentin Tarantino have attracted names like Bruce Willis and John Travolta.

My interest in comedy dates back to the early Carry On films, which succeeded in their attempt to push the boundaries of what was acceptable for that time. 

The lower budgets and less bureaucracy paved the way for new up and coming screenwriters, and my next guest falls into that category.

Podcast series

Tyler is known for The Station and Melvin. Although he has amassed a fan base in comedy, he has a well-documented interest in the horror genre, so stay tuned. 

Tyler’s podcast series is growing in popularity. His brand, basement, is available on all recognised platforms.

We caught up with Tyler in his home in Orlando, Florida, albeit virtually. 

When did you realise that you wanted to get involved with movies?

I was five years old. My father worked for an ad agency and wrote commercials as well. It was a small market, but in hindsight, I knew he loved it. We always had props from cheap commercials around the house. I have this dream-like memory of him and me at the kitchen table one night, outlining our production for The Legend of Sleepy Hollow. He had all the knowledge of making films and videos. I always felt like that was the start. I also have to credit my mother and her love for cinema and going to the movies. There are a lot of memories of going to the theatres where we would catch a movie together.

How did you feel when your first movie was released?

I was petrified. We played this little movie to a packed eight hundred seat theatre in my hometown. There really was no going back once the lights went down and the opening credits hit the screen. If they liked it, great if not, oh well, back to the drawing board I go. But once all was said and done, I was hooked on the feeling of holding an audience in the palm of your hand. It’s a sensation I have been chasing since that night. 

Did you choose your genre, or did it find you?

These days, it has chosen me. But early on, I just liked films about people and our behaviours and how we react to a situation. So I always go back to classic films of the sixties and seventies that had a plot, but you were more invested in the characters and how they managed what they were dealing with. But I also have always been a fan of films with a lot of imagination. So I aspire to blend those two. 

How do you find your inspiration to create?

I try to stay in tune with the world around me. There’s a whole world of knowledge at our fingertips, but I feel we abuse that tool a lot. I watch films and television and read a lot of books and comics and listen to any form of music that strikes a chord with me. And from all of that, I end up just doing research on things, which leads me to create some kind of story in my head. I also never try to force it. Anything I’ve even pushed hard on has never come to fruition. I try to craft stories organically. 

Do you think you will conform to tradition and step away from the indie arena in favour of tradition one day? Why?

I want opportunities for big projects at some point. However, I still like the hustle of doing things on an indie level. I know it doesn’t always pay the bills, but that’s where I get to be me. It’s tough, you can’t have both, or maybe you can. If tomorrow I got a call to make the next Marvel film, which is highly unlikely, I would still do it because I like making movies, and it would be a hell of a trip and maybe launch my career. But I can see myself in my eighties when all is set and done, still farting around with a camera making little films in my house and driving my wife crazy. 

What advice would you give someone who wanted to follow in your footsteps? Why?

Don’t follow in my footsteps. I mean, I don’t know where the hell I’m even going right now. Go your own way; people will respect you more, I feel. Take what you’ve learned from those you admire and put your own spin on it. 

Your podcast series is gaining popularity; what’s it about, and who is your audience?

I mean, I am still working out the kinks a year into it. But it’s a film centered podcast about the creative process. And it’s done in a very “hangout” kind of way; I like to say. It’s called Tyler Geis’ Basement. Anyone I grew up with gets the reference because when I was a kid, my parent’s basement was kind of a hangout spot where the television would be on, and something cool would be playing. So I try to bring that vibe to the show. It’s still a show I have to run, so there is a flow to it, so nothing goes off the rails, but I try to have guests come on and relax and talk about the cool stuff they’re into and working on.

What was your most outstanding professional achievement to date? Why?

The fact that I walked away from continuing to work for a major national television sports network to pursue my “pipe dream” of getting films made, and I am now pitching to producers, helps me sleep a little better. Of course, I’ll get a whole night’s rest when someone says yes to a script I wrote. But I had to roll the dice on some things the past three years. The race has been long, but I’m still in it, and I don’t want to stop yet.

Production company

What’s on the horizon for your brand?

I have a production company called The Ryan Road Company. We’re producing a few more podcasts, and we have a feature film in post-production right now called….*takes a breath*…Horny Teenagers Must Die! It’s a nice homage to the grind-house slasher films of the seventies and eighties. It’s going out to the festival circuit quite soon. And of course, I am shopping projects around to companies.

On a personal note, I wanted to thank Tyler for this interview. A stark reminder that perseverance, determination and drive still make a recipe for success. Hopefully, I will catch up with him again at some point in the future.

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