07.22.06 My Morning with Henry

A few months back, the up and coming indie music magazine, Death + Taxes, featured a piece about Jericho's Echo. During the interview, I was shooting the breeze with Managing Editor Stephen Blackwell, and I suggested that the new mag add an indie film column to its well-rounded music coverage. "Great idea," he replied, "Why don't you write it?"

So that's how I ended up in Henry Rollins' Hollywood office earlier this month. I know. You're thinking,"Office?! I would expect Henry Rollins to have some sort of lair or batcave where he broods and comes up with elaborate plans to save the world!" Me, too.

In fact, I was downright nervous to meet him, and not just because he was the lead singer of Black Flag, has produced a whole boatload of interesting work in his lifetime, and is best friends with one of my heroes, Ian MacKaye. It was sheer intimidation. After all, one of the most iconic images of Henry features him painted Satan-red and screaming, "LIAR!" straight into a TV camera (in a Rollins Band video ca. 1995).

My fears were squashed the minute Henry answered the door. I had arrived way early in anticipation of LA traffic and made the mistake of walking to get some coffee. Mistake because A) LA is not very pedestrian friendly and B) It was hot as balls. By the time I approached the office, I'm afraid I was a bit of a mess. The first thing he said, kindly, was, "Can I get you a glass of water?" I have to admit that I immediately thought,"Wow! You sound just like Henry Rollins!"

The office was in a modest, residential-style house filled with media--tapes, CDs, videos, plus Henry's desk, a sound editing station and, much to my delight, a single framed photograph of Henry and Ian. A CD of tuvan throat singing greeted me along with Henry's water-offer, so we started with that and didn't have a lull in conversation for the next 2 hours.

Henry was charming and entertaining and not any less intense than I expected. I mostly aimed to focus on movies, due to the nature of my column and the fact that he currently hosts a show on the Independent Film Channel. We covered a lot more ground than that, though...from the "War on Terror" to what its like to present at an award show to what a twisted city Los Angeles is to how he'd rather read quality literature than eat. I even got a show-and-tell session that included such gems as listening to a voice message from Iggy Pop ("Hey Henry, this is James Osterburg..."), and previewing the incredible jazzy-spoken-word-collaboration between Henry and the one and only WIlliam Shattner (of Star Trek fame).

I really wanted to give Henry a hug at the end but I settled for the above photograph. He was even kind enough to let us try it again when my face got cut off in this one, but the next one came out even weirder. After the interview, he was off with the director of his latest film to check out Clerks2 since he was going to interview director Kevin Smith for his show, and later that night he was introducing a new Ramones movie to the group assembling to watch it in a Hollywood graveyard. Ah, the life of a punk rock media mogul.

Thanks, Henry, for a lovely morning. The rest of you can read Henry's insights into the movie biz in Death + Taxes issue no. 3, due out this fall.

What John Cusak Movie Are You?

OK, so I never post these online quizzes, but since I am still recovering from the Germany trip, I wanted to at least say Hello to you all...and hey, it's movie related!

I just took this quiz this morning and found it amazingly accurate (unlike the "FInd Your Inner Rock Star" quiz which assured me I was Britney Spears!!). I saw High Fidelity and CRIED, even though it was sposed to be a comedy...guess it hit a little too close to home.

So what's yours?

Your Life is Like

High Fidelity

What John Cusack movie are you?

04.25.06 Germany: It’s a Wrap

After four flights in two days, I descended through the clouds back into drizzly San Francisco. I’ve now had a little over a week to catch up on sleep and reflect upon the incredible set of experiences that made up Jericho’s Echo’s first European tour.

The last few screenings whizzed by in a blur. We had my record-setting longest Q & A (a full hour!) in Trier, and met excellent people in Aachen, where we also had the first ever forcibly removed audience member—a drunk punk shouting in slurred Polish. Overall, there are so many things that unexpectedly astounded me about the trip, even on top of the fact that little old me made a movie that people living 6,000 miles away from me came by the hundreds to see.

The first and most wonderfully surprising thing is the friendship that developed between Johannes and me. You can read a few entries back how anxious I was about spending 24/7 in a car for over 2 weeks with a total stranger who gave the impression of stereotypical German frigidness. Continue reading, however, and you can see that within a few days together, we were inseparable not by circumstance, but by choice.

(My friend Johannes)

Aside from all of our meaningful cultural exchanges (For example, did you know that Scrooge McDuck is called, “Uncle Duckleburg” in Germany?), Johannes was an excellent cultural interpreter for some of our weirder moments. We spent a lot of our time laughing, and in more serious, business-related, or just plain exhausting tour circumstances, we gave each other the necessary support and space. In short, a perfect tour relationship.

As each screening actually had a guarantee, I thought I might make a profit on this tour for once, but I never expected that the biggest gain would be a lifelong friend.


The other main point of interest for me was the curious relationship that Germans have with Israel. I felt like I was really doing something important by bringing the somewhat controversial issues in the film to the forefront for discussion among Germans, because Israeli/Palestinian issues touch a much closer nerve in German society than I expected.

I already mentioned in the Nuremburg entry the surprising (to me) split among the German left regarding Mideast politics. In the U.S., speaking from personal experience, I’ve found that one is considered somewhat of a pariah if they practice left-wing politics and still support Israel. In Germany, it seemed to be the most radical left who were most supportive of Israel. I had folks showing up at screenings in full anarchist regalia—head-to-toe black, dreadlocks, etc, with the addition of a button or baseball cap proclaiming, “Israel: We love you.” What?!

I don’t think I am the one to make it, but a documentary could definitely be fashioned about the complex, contemporary German-Jewish-Israeli dynamic.

Now that I am back and dealing with reality again, the next big step is to get the Jericho’s Echo DVD into stores and video shops and thereby into people’s personal DVD collections…publicity, publicity, publicity…ah, the fun never ends!

4.11.06 Germany: Munster

Things lightened up considerably after Weimar. The drive to Munster was one of our longest, but I think we were both happy to put the experiences of the previous day far behind us.

The screening was at an upscale arthouse cinema (cleverly named "Cinema Munster") and we had a 50+ person crowd. Johannes and I remarked at what a wide variety of venues we've screened in on this tour...everything from broken down squats to fancy art cinemas to music festivals and concert venues. How wierd! Somehow we've managed to get by in all of these different environments.

The guys who put on the show were really cool--Muscha and Carsten (one of those tall, blonde, attractive guys who tries to make himself into a nerd by wearing thick horn-rimmed glasses), from Green Hell Records. Green Hell is one of the largest indie music distributors in Europe and Johannes was saying there must be something in the water in Munster because it is the hub of so much German punk activity.

Carsten also worked for one of the best known venues in town, the Gleis22, so we headed over there after the screening to catch the end Swedish pop outfit "The Shout Out Louds" set. It's awesome to have made a movie that pairs up so nicely with live music, because we've screened prior to so many band performances. At the festival in Bregenz, we got to see Irrlicht, the Austrian punk band with occasional tuba interjections and a wild Cologne-based screamo band, Das Krill. I already mentioned Dog Soldier, the Portland punkers who followed us in Neuebrandenburg. And lest I forget the energetic Berlin/Montreal funkpunk duo The King Khan & BBQ Show who played at our Solingen venue or the female-fronted, Polish, hardcore-with-violins band who played after us in Weimar. It kind of encourages me to make another music doc.

(Irrlicht at the Never Conform Festival)

We got a chance to see some of the city in the morning. It seemed to be the bicycle capital of Germany, with two-wheeled vehicles piled up outside every door, and despite the fact that I was devastated to discover there is actually no such thing as Munster cheese, I really enjoyed the time we spent there before heading off to the final leg of the tour. As we explored the old city together arm in arm, it dawned on me what an amazing friend Johannes had become, and how much I was going to miss him when I returned to the US.

04.10.06 Germany: Weimar

Weimar was totally intense. I never got quite comfortable in the town where Hitler came to power; in the town that sits in the shadow of the notoriously murderous Buchenwald concentration camp.

We drove in via clean, cobblestoned streets and pleasantly pastel townhouse facades, when we were suddenly assaulted by a huge eyesore--a dirty, brown, broken-windowed ramshackle of a place, covered with graffiti. Ah, this must be our stop. Check the tourbook. Yup, this is where we screen tonight.

Despite my initial skepticism, I came to have a lot of respect for the Gerberstrasse youth center, especially noting how badly its neighbors wanted to get rid of it. Especially noting how it seemed to be the only place in town that wasn't tidily sweeping the city's ugly past under the carpet. Especially because the building stood as a giant,"Fuck You" to the former Gestapo headquarters across the street.



(The Gerberstrasse)

The wierdest part about Weimar is that, save for a few words in my Lonely Planet book, I would hardly have known about all the skeletons in its closet. There were no indications at all that "This is the building where the town's Jews were rounded up" or "This tower was built by Hitler himself" or "This is the hotel where Hitler was given a master suite, and a balcony was built so he could address his adoring fans in the plaza below." Thank goodness for Pierre from the Gerberstrasse, who took us on an "alternative city tour" and shed some light on these painful truths. He also showed us Neo-Nazi rally points and a formerly Jewish-owned shop which is now home to a line of insidiously disguised Neo-nazi propoganda sportswear. I'm not kidding.



(Pierre from the Gerberstrasse)

Pierre is sort of like an anarchist Santa Claus--a jolly, big belly presides over his combat boots and his head is topped with an eclectic mix of dreadlocks, bald spots, and shaved parts. Pierre is sort of the patriarch of Gerberstrasse, and he invited us there to help prepare his ragtag, leftist group of misfit Israel supporters for their upcoming trip to the Holy Land. Interestingly, Pierre led one such group before, with a punk band from Romania, and they put on the first ever hardcore show in the Palestinian territories, at a Christian youth center in Beit Jala.

After two hours of Pierre's tour, I was completely creeped out, and emotionally and physically exhausted. I really wanted to explain to Johannes how i was feeling, but I couldn't quite make out the words. He seemed completely understanding anyway, G-d love him. Fortunately, some comic relief came at the end of the tour, when Pierre showed us the garden where famous Weimarian Goethe did much of his writing. In attempting to describe Goethe's amorous ways, Pierre explained, "Goethe was a big fucker." Now, there's a t-shirt.

Not too surprisingly, our screening was a disorganized mess. Johannes attempted his lecture, but we didn't even have a post-film discussion or set up our merchandise. It was probably all for the best since we were both so tired. We stayed in the squatted building adjacent to the Gerberstrasse. I was still feeling pretty freaked out and matters weren't helped when I realized that I would be sleeping in the big, dormitory style room reserved for bands all by myself. I timidly tucked into my bottom bunk and read the graffiti on the wall: "Va'adat Kishut Tour Summer 2004." Seeing that someone from one of the bands from the movie had apparently slept in this very same bed, my heart swelled. I realized that I really wasn't alone in that room after all.

4.09.06 Germany: Solingen and Braunschweig

Nothing of particular note happened at the screenings in Solingen and Braunschweig--small cities, small crowds, nice people. It was inspiring to note in both towns, however, the motivation of small groups of people to make things happen. I have found this all over Germany, like with the communally run youth centers, and I've definitely been impressed with the results.

In Solingen, for example, our screening was put on by a group of about 20 people (the "cow club"), who work together to put on regular independent concerts and events. In the US, promoters are usually only very small groups of 2 or 3, or even one individual, so it was interesting to see how a bigger group shares the burden and gets a lot accomplished. (On a side note, one of the first things someone told me in Solingen was that the town is famous for its' knives. Nobody except for Johannes thought it was funny when I replied that, well then, I better not piss anyone off. I can't tell you how many times I've thanked my lucky stars that I am on tour with someone whose sense of humor is as stupid as mine!)

Even more impressive than the group in Solingen was the club--Nexus--where we screened in Braunschweig. This large club, which included a bar, performance space, band rehearsal rooms and more, was literally built from the ground up over 4 years by the group of people running it now, all of whom have thus far made no profit from the venture. Our host and promoter, Timo from Riptide Recods, (who had the cleanest bachelor pad I've ever seen despite having already hosted 2 bands that week), explained the plans to develop the club even further, and also turned me on to some really cool bands like Boy Omega.



(The "willich" of Johannes's youth)

On the way between Solingen and Braunschweig, we took a countryside detour to the tiny village--and I do mean village--where J's family moved after they left East Germany when he was a kid. It was nice to meet his younger brother and catch a glimpse into his red brick, pitched roof, open green-pastured past.

A couple of J's really, really nice friends came to the Braunschweig screening and I mentioned to one of them (who interviewed me for poisonfree.com) that we were headed to Weimar next. He got surprisingly emotional and explained that he grew up in that area, and had really mixed feelings about it since he knew that his grandmother had been standing there proudly heiling to Hitler in her younger days. So, after a couple of relatively uneventful days, we headed to Weimar, which was to be one of the most impactful days of the tour for me.

04.07.06 Germany: Hamburg

I've been thinking about doing a documentary on indepenent cinemas and the crazy characters who run them, and Carsten from the Lichtmess Kino in Hamburg is a fantastic candidate. An experimental filmmaker himself who collects projections of color-check girls from the leaders of 35mm prints, Carsten is hte former bassist of a hugely popular, older German punk band whose name translates roughly to "Flowers at the ass of hell." When his spiky, blonde-tipped head greeted us with raspy and abundant laughter, we knew we were in for a good night.

Carsten works full time in a mainstream cinema and is part of a small group who rents and promotes the Lichtmess Kino every Thursday for independent film sreenings. The Kino itself is a really interesting space, inside an old soap factory and plastered with beautiful old movie posters from floor to extra tall ceilings.



(Some of our crowd at the Lichtmess Kino)

We had another sold out screening! Well over 100 were inside--leaving stnading room only--and more were turned away at the door. I was already getting a bit nervous due to the size of the crowd, and my anxiety heightened when people in the back started chatting and snickering during J's lecture. To make matteres worse, the speech was running a bit long, and I was expecting a call from the US (an interview from Venus Magazine-yay!) on the phone that was located in J's pocket! By the time the screening ended, I was a nervous wreck, and it didn't help that, though most of the crowd (at least 100), stayed for the post-film discussion, they were absolutely silent. A sea of expectant faces, but not a question among them! Fortunately, J and I have our schtick down by now and we were able to warm them up some.

It was an appropriate night to have my first stiff drink of the tour (J has been giving me a pactical tutorial on the wonders of German non-alcoholic beers). Before heading home, we went to the bar that also resided inside the soap-factory complex, and Carsten treated me to a shot of Malteeser (sp?)--a local specialty liquor made from caraway seeds that tasted vaguely like a liquid dinner roll.

Harald, our host and promoter, took us on a midnight stroll home via Hamburg's port, one of the largest in Europe. I always like port towns best because of the energy and vitality that comes from exposure to new things, and Hamburg was no exception. J and I got a chance to do some exploring in the morning, and I really loved the feel of the city--lots of cool-looking people, diversity, independent business and a friendly vibe. It was the first city so far that I could see myself actually living in.

04.06.06 Germany: Neubrandenburg

Neubrandenburg was about as different from Berlin as you could get in one country. Only two hours drive from the urban, educated, sophisticated West German cultural mecca of Berlin was the tiny, rural, largely unemployed East German village of Neubrandenburg. I was amazed at the snobbery that still exists toward East Germany among West Germans. One guy at the Berlin screening asked, "Why would you GO to such a place?", and went so far as comparing a Berliner visiting Neubrandenburg to an Israeli visiting the West Bank. When I explained to another "Westerner" that the Neubrandenburg show was the only place so far where J had to do German translation for me, they snidely remarked, "Well is IS East Germany." Of course, all of this talk made me determined to have an excellent screening there.

The show was in another one of those alternative youth centers, this one in such a remote wooded location that I didn't think the "road" leading to it was actually meant for cars. I must admit that I--who created this movie in part to break stereotypes about punks--was filled with hesitation when we walked in and saw a group of spiked, studded, leather-clad guys hanging around. Oh, great. They're just here for the beer and they aren't going to give a shit about the movie. Funny thing was, the whole gang was actually a band from Portland, Oregon called Dog Soldier who are also touring Germany and were booked to play right after the movie!

The screening itself was nice but uneventful--about 30 peeps--but I had some interesting conversations about the local economic situation and political issues with the show's organizers Frank and Ulli.

We stayed at Frank's parents' place which was even more remote than the youth center--so much so that our navigation system basically said, "Fuck off!" and went to sleep. We've had a few unusual sleeping situations so far, but this was probably the topper. Frank's folks had reently joined a spiritual cult in India and dramatically altered their lifestyle. I slept in a basicaly empty room containing only a bowl of water in the corner, a bookshelf holding myriad esoteric objects and a sign that read something to the effect of, "Please do not touch any of the objects on this shelf. I am using them to heal people's bad diseases, and if you touch them the bad diseases may transfer to you."

Apparently, his parents make a pilgrimmage to their guru in India once or twice a year, each time returning with new household rules imposed by their spritual leader. Since their last trip, use of the first floor bathroom and sliding door to the garden are forbidden. Frank was a ovely guy and it was hard to imagine what it must have been like for him when his "normal" parents got involved in such business only three years ago.