Outside of my immediate family, no one has influenced my life in a more fateful or enduring way than Bingham Ray.
One evening in 1986, Bingham phoned me in Dallas where I was living at the time and told me about a chance meeting he’d just had. Bob Weinstein had accosted him in the back of a darkened movie theater and tried to hire him as Miramax Films’ head of distribution. Bingham said he’d agreed to meet with Bob the following day but that he was going to turn down the position and suggest Bob call me.
What little I knew – or at least had heard – about Bob and his brother Harvey was that they were worth avoiding. Possibly at all cost. Crazy brothers who didn’t really know anything about the independent film business and impossible to deal with. Under the circumstances, I asked Bingham to please take the meeting and find out all he could about the company and the job before throwing my hat in the ring. He said he would. The next morning he phoned and said he’d turned down the job and Bob would be calling momentarily. Bob wasn’t as bad as his rep, he explained, and I should take the call and hear what he had to say.
Bob phoned soon thereafter and I was struck by how normal he seemed. He wanted to meet but wouldn’t fly me in. If I could get to New York, he’d make time.
I’d left New York in early 1982 where I’d worked for Cinema 5 and New Yorker Films. I’d moved to LA where I thought I’d break into the bigs and get a studio job. Long story short, my plan didn’t fit the timeframe. The studios were in the throes of their worst downturn in many years and it was just before the release of “ET” changed their fortunes in a big way. I’d retreated to Dallas where my family had relocated and landed a sales job with Paramount Pictures. But Dallas wasn’t LA (or NY) and the robotic nature of booking studio films into commercial screens left me feeling, well, like a robot.
I flew to NY where I stayed with Bingham and Nancy during the interview process. I met with Bob and he offered me the job. (Harvey was in LA where he was supervising post on the brothers’ co-written, co-produced, co-directed “Playing for Keeps”.) That afternoon and evening I called everyone I knew in the business and nearly all of them suggested running away as fast as I could. Such was the Weinsteins’ reputation at the time and that of Miramax. Bingham, though, along with my brother Jeff, was more philosophical. They knew that I missed both NYC and the independent film business and so why not.
I took the job and the course of my life was changed forever by that call from Bingham and by his confidence in my ability to handle the Weinsteins and strengthen Miramax.
When brother Jeff phoned me from Sundance the other day to let me know that Bingham had suffered a stroke I was upset but not overly concerned. Bingham was not only one of the community’s most respected, charming and beloved personalities, he was also one of the most irrepressible. I had no doubt that he would survive this inconvenient speedbump.
When word came today that Bingham had passed, I was unprepared for the flood of emotions I felt. We’d not had much contact over the past several years but anytime our paths did cross, the kinship and warmth we’d always had for each other remained undiminished.
We lost a good friend and a very bright light today, but that light lives on in the many he’s touched and influenced over the years and it will live on in my life.
Thanks for everything Bingham. Wherever you go from here, I know you’ll be lighting hopeful and empowering fires for us all.
By now you’ve heard about the NTSB’s call for a national ban on texting and all non-emergency phone calls while driving. There can be no reasonable argument in support of texting while driving, but suggesting a ban on all phone calls is not only unrealistic to an absurd level, it’s also dead wrong.
That there remain 14 states who do not ban texting outright is scandalous. Seven of them ban texting only for new and/or young drivers. (Among these, Texas also calls out bus drivers when a passenger 17 and younger is on board and drivers in school-crossing zones.) Seven others have no laws on the books at all. All fourteen of these states should be immediately excised from the Union. Alternately, for each year they neglect to pass a ban, all residents not voting or voting no should be made to choose a family member for execution by crushing. In addition, the mandatory minimum jail sentence for texting while driving should be life without parole for a first offense.
Not quite as scandalous is the number of states who still don’t require hands-free calling. In fact, only ten states plus DC have that law on their books. A few have partial bans but a full thirty-five don’t believe it’s a good idea to have two hands on the steering wheel while driving. That’s what it comes down to. Pure insanity.
When cell phones were newly ubiquitous and hands-free devices weren’t quite up to par, it was a coin toss whether or not to penalize drivers. Today, however, even the lowest priced wired headsets deliver acceptable quality both incoming and outgoing. There’s no longer any reason for those forty states to delay banning all but hands-free conversations. The NTSB could have a positive impact here but instead, in its bureaucratic, reactionary fervor, it’s chosen to throw the baby-on-board out with the bathwater.
They’re frustrated. I get that. People are dying every day unnecessarily. But the answer isn’t to overreact. Rather than seeking an outright ban, suggest that law enforcement re-prioritize. Suggest that sitting on the side of the road with a radar gun may not be the best use of their time. That actively searching out texters or non-hands-free callers will make the roads far safer. Make the point that speeders aren’t the cause of most deaths on the road or incidences of road rage. Rather, it’s bad drivers – like those who impede traffic by refusing to keep right unless passing – who are the root of nearly all evil on the highway.
Suggest that more money can be earned through ticketing bad drivers – texters, non-hands-free-ers, impeders – than by ticketing speeders. That by ticketing – at ever higher fines – drivers who refuse to use turn signals will have their cities’ coffers overflowing with cash. That in ticketing the truly distracted – like drivers applying make-up – they’ll be making the world a safer, saner place for everyone.
Hey NTSB, light a fire for common sense.
Judge Jed Rakoff’s heroic decision last month to face down the SEC and deny it its cowardly Citigroup settlement – at least temporarily – continues to reverberate. It’s providing a much-needed mirror into the hollow soul of the agency whose mission appears to be founded on the idea that what’s best for Wall Street is what’s best for America. If the Republican Presidential candidates want to know what appeasement really looks like, they should re-set their sights from 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue to SEC headquarters on F Street.
But appeasement isn’t the most troubling thing about Mary Shapiro’s SEC, it’s the agency’s apparent wholesale ineptitude.
According to Wall Street Journal sources, “Everything’s come to a halt because the SEC doesn’t know what to ask for anymore in the settlements.” If Chairwoman Shapiro and her crew are unable to distinguish between a pinprick ($285 million) and a meaningful penalty for blatantly un-American activities ( how about a minimum of a single quarter’s Citigroup profit: $3.8 billion) then perhaps they should consider something called ‘going to trial.’
The agency will argue that they can’t afford to go to trial. I contend that they can’t afford not to. We as a country can’t afford not to. Going to trial would not only remove the seemingly impossible burden of determining a fair settlement from the shoulders of the SEC, it would send a message to the American public and the world markets that we’re serious – at long last – about financial reform. Yes, it would cost some cash and it would require SEC staff to work their tails off and burn some midnight oil, but that’s their job, right? Expediency is the last thing that should be considered when faith in the government is at a record low and the will of financial institutions to circumvent rules and spit in the face of moral decency hasn’t been this strong since – well, perhaps ever.
If you’re looking for something to occupy, the address is 100 F Street.
Light *this* fire, OWS!
The reaction was intensely negative last year to my two posts in August about the inevitable demise of the modern movie house. I wrote then that of the approximately 6,000 movie theaters in the US, 5,000 would disappear within 10 years and only 100 would survive after 15 years. My prediction was largely based on the unstoppable rise of streaming media and the quickening pace of technology. In January 2011, NATO (National Association of Theater Owners) released their stats for 2010 including the fact that, even though box-office returns remained steady at around $10 billion, the number of tickets sold was the lowest since 1996.
2011 isn’t looking much better.
This past weekend’s overall box-office was the lowest since 2008. The period between Thanksgiving and Christmas is traditionally a dead zone and a dumping ground but, still, this is very bad news for movie theaters. It’s certainly not good news for the studios but it’s not the quality – or lack of quality – of their films that’s responsible for the drop in attendance. And the studios have other options for reaching their audience. At the moment, those options are in flux and the will to use them is rather weak in the face of threats by exhibitors who, for the moment, still have some leverage. But sooner than later, the studios will be forced to turn their backs on their exhibition partners as more and more moviegoing drifts to other platforms. It’s certainly possible that events will conspire to move things along even more quickly than I’ve predicted but not more slowly.
What will the numbers be for 2011? My guess is that the industry will see its lowest box-office tally since 2008 (in spite of ever-higher average ticket prices) and a continued drop in attendance. Whatever the results, there’s no stopping this train. Movie theaters as we know them today are going to become a thing of the past within our lifetimes. And that’s not a bad thing – except for exhibitors. For us, it’s going to result in more choices more quickly and more convenience. It will mean the end of sticky floors, obscenely priced snacks and people kicking your seat. It *won’t* mean the end of social movie-going. In fact, we’ll have more choices there as well.
Here’s another prediction: before 2015, NATO will no longer be as forthcoming with their statistics on the number of theaters and screens in the US or box-office and admission numbers.
Lighting a fire for the future!
Facebook.
Now close your eyes and imagine life without it. How lonely do you feel? How disconnected? How unnerved? How lost?
Geez, please stop shaking…and whimpering. Open your eyes. See, you’re still on Facebook. You still have all your friends. Read a few updates. Upload a photo. Download an app. Feel better? Good.
After four or so years as a very active Facebook user and having built a pretty honest Friend-count of 400-500, I went cold-turkey this past September. Completely pulled the plug. And you know what? No shaking, no whimpering and, aside from a day-or-two-long adjustment period where I’d catch myself robotically seeking out the deleted bookmark, I haven’t missed it at all. Several of my friends, however, (actual friends vs. Facebook friends) reached out in a panic. Apparently, dropping out of Facebook is now akin to dropping out of life.
I wasn’t feeling suicidal when I made the decision to bow out and though I certainly recognized what a time-suck Facebook had become, it wasn’t all the wasted hours that motivated me to walk away. Nor was it the fact that every individual on Facebook is first and foremost a commodity and a target for the most intense, self-cannibalistic marketing barrage of all time. No, for me it was the fact that I came to feel that I was whistling in the wind. That, much like YouTube, this awesome tool for communication wasn’t being used to communicate so much as for triviality and escapism. Sure, there are isolated moments – like an Arab uprising for instance – where meaningful communication occurs, but those moments are the rarest of exceptions.
Not that there’s anything particularly wrong with the reflexive sharing of inane life moments or the endless regurgitation of famous and not-so-famous quotes. And there’s certainly something to be said for the virtual high school and family reunions that Facebook enables. But Facebook simply is not an obvious or easy place for intelligent, thoughtful conversation or debate and given the dizzying precipice we’re all living on at the moment, Facebook’s escapism and trivialities are what drove me away.
(One stark example of social networking’s lack of gravitas was the recent suicide of Ashley Billasano. Her cry for help to 500 Twitter follower went tragically unanswered. I’m still on Twitter though.)
Now that I’m free, I’m really keying in on the relatively new insidiousness growing around Facebook (and to a somewhat lesser degree Twitter) that makes me feel both relieved to be out and a little nervous. Facebook’s near ubiquity and grip on the population is such that more and more companies and marketers are throwing their lots in with Mr. Zuckerberg in a way that extends his (and their) tentacles so deeply into your stuff that resistance truly is becoming more and more futile.
The growth-rate of sites encouraging registration using your Facebook (and often Twitter) login is growing at a meteoric pace. “Save time. Bring your friends with you.” That’s how Facebook is selling the convenience factor. And it is convenient. Problem being that for a one minute savings, you’re allowing the grip to tighten. And because you’re not struggling against it – against the ever-brighter light shining ever deeper into your digital soul – you don’t even notice that you’ve voluntarily strolled into a bubbling, fetid pit of quicksand and you’re being pulled down slowly but surely into the depths of marketing hell.
Still don’t want to unfriend Facebook yourself? That’s OK. The next time I have something to sell you I’ll be right there with Mr. Zuckerberg, easing you down the funnel with a velvet-gloved hand. And you won’t feel a thing.
Don’t say I didn’t warn you.
Lighting a fire for transparency 
Yup, it’s pretty hard to get anything done when you have no idea what you want or how to get it. While OWS maintains its sad trajectory toward obscurity and oblivion, U.S. District Judge Jed Rakoff proved again today that he’s the lone federal employee since the beginning of the global financial crisis to take meaningful positions against the banks and for the American people.
In a stunning rebuke, Judge Rakoff called the SEC out in its effort to let one of its banker overseers, Citigroup, off the hook after bilking investors out of hundreds of millions of dollars. Citigroup recently announced a third-quarter profit of $3.8 billion dollars yet was on the verge of getting away with a paltry $285 million dollar settlement with no admission of wrongdoing. Judge Rakoff’s smack-down of Citigroup and of Mary Schapiro’s inept SEC is the first glimmer of hope since his earlier SEC settlement ruling in 2009 that America may yet recover from the financial meltdown if not its decade-long depletion of sense, ethics and honor.
The fact that such attempts by the SEC to coddle and protect Wall Street are allowed to continue under the Obama administration is an especially stark example of why the country should be desperately seeking a viable third party candidate to run in 2012.
Keep your fire burning Judge Rakoff, and thanks.
I know it makes me appear hopelessly naive but I continue to believe that we can learn from our mistakes, take honest stock of our actions and re-route our priorities and thereby our destinies.
However…
The avalanche of Madoff family publicity over the past several days, including the revelation and insane media coverage of Ruth and Bernie’s non-suicide, is mortifying and, in itself, criminal. Between the Madoffs and Michael Jackson (who, like Generalissimo Franco is still dead,) have me terribly perplexed and more than a little nauseous. Bernie may be the cock and balls, but Ruth, Andrew and especially Catherine Hooper, Andrew’s fiance, all dangle from the dingleberry that is Bernie Madoff. They all deserve to be thrown into a cold, wet, Medieval dungeon and fed nothing but grubs and Bernie’s rotting intestines. Too extreme? I don’t think so. The issue isn’t only the extent to which any or all of them knowingly participated in the Ponzi scheme, but how long and hard they averted their gaze. How long, while living the American Wet Dream (a million times more potent that the American Dream) did they never question, never suspect, never confront, never imagine and/or worst of all, never walk away?
Mark, on the other hand, did the right thing. He bowed to the unimaginable shame that he felt. The rest of them feel no real shame. Instead they lock arms with the always-willing media – in a very real sense, now, their accomplices – and cry and pout and feel sorry for themselves and try desperately to be a little less hated. True, TV “News” hasn’t been authentic news for a very long time, but going to such lengths to give voice to a family that, either directly or by inexcusable and almost certainly purposeful ignorance, has inflicted so much suffering and heartache, cannot go without comment. (Print “journalists” contribute, of course, but they can’t have nearly the impact.)
So my comment to the American media is this: how can you live with yourselves? How you can face your families without intense shame? How can you present the likes of Ruth and Andrew Madoff to your viewers and readers without irony and obvious distaste? Your behavior is a dishonor to your profession and your country. I’m embarrassed by your unquenchable thirst for ratings and your desperate yearning for the approval of the lowest common denominator. How is it you’re not embarrassed? And if you are, why don’t you stand up and say so?
Have the decency and humility to say “enough”. Light that fire and remind yourself – and us – that there’s still such a thing as doing well by doing good.
Among the dizzying list of stuff that Occupy Wall Street is now for or against is moving your money out of the big banks and into local banks or credit unions. Which is an awesome idea. Of course, it’s not OWS, though, that’s getting it done since it renounces any semblance of leadership or any particular point of view. Instead, it’s a woman – one woman, Kristen Christian – who was fed up with something – one thing – and decided to actually try to do something about it. She concocted something called “Bank Transfer Day” where she’s calling on everyone to remove their assets from the major banks on November 5.
Here’s some news about it:
This is something many of us have been thinking about and hundreds of thousands of people have already made the move. The fact that Ms. Christian took it upon herself to create a movement, though, has gotten the attention of the media and, because it’s dead simple to understand and there’s a specific call to action, November 5 may actually move the needle. Something OWS is incapable of because of its insistence on non-leadership and imprecision which will inevitably lead to its rank as a non-entity.
In case the thought of changing your bank makes your head hurt, here are a few primers on how to do it without breaking a sweat.
Changing you bank account:
Way to light a fire Kristen!
When a good friend sent me a link about Occupy Wall Street two or three weeks before its September 15 kick-off, I was ecstatic. This was exactly what we needed. An organized, citizen-led movement taking on the bankers and traders and mortgage brokers and rating agencies and insurance companies that had both separately and conspiratorially plunged the country and the world into the depths of financial ruin.
Then I read their Facebook page and all the air went out of my sails. “You’re going to occupy Wall Street on a fucking Saturday?! You’re going to rage against the machine on a day when the machine is unplugged and nothing and no one but a tumbleweed and the occasional drunk are going to notice or care. What a joke.” Granted, it was to be only the first day of what was advertised as a long-term occupation, but why launch with a whimper?
In spite of the fact that the tenacity of the protesters in Zuccotti Park (decidedly not Wall Street) has, for the moment, succeeded in winning the attention of the media and has organically spawned Occupy protests across the US and around the globe, it’s doing nothing to move the needle. Amplifying the simmering anger that many of us feel is important and the fact that that the media (the ultimate rating agency) have hitched a wagon or two to the movement’s growth is diverting. But where’s the beef? In fact, what’s the beef?
The friend that first alerted me to OWS called me from Zuccotti last night and he was elated. He’d been to the Park several times and his enthusiasm came flooding through the phone. He was clearly inspired and I was excited for him. But now that the movement has our attention, now that the country and the media are focused on their protest, a focused message is absolutely mandatory and the lack of one is inexcusable. When I asked my friend the question that so many are asking, namely ‘what do you want?’, he didn’t really have an answer. No one seems to have one and that’s the problem. Saying ‘it’s not just one thing’ or ‘it’s not a protest, it’s a movement’ or ‘the media won’t let the truth out’ doesn’t help anyone. My friend more or less said all of these things then he said something that lost me altogether. He said it was a revolution. Really? A revolution? Not only is OWS not a revolution, it’s not likely to spark one either.
The Boston Tea Party sparked a revolution. Why? Because it was about something. OWS is about dozens of things, some of which are sophomoric at best. Supposedly, the Occupy movement was inspired by Tahrir Square. That’s all well and good but, once again, those protests were about something. They may have had a somewhat fractured orientation at first, but very quickly, their raison d’etre coalesced into the removal of a dictator from power and that laser focus gave them a strength and a will that was unstoppable. Oh, and they were willing to die for it. Among other things, Occupy wants to end all wars. They want jobs. They want to tax the wealthy. They want universal healthcare. They want campaign finance reform. Terrific, so do I, but how? By camping out a couple of blocks from the seat of financial power holding signs and occasionally getting hauled off to jail for setting up a tent? There’s also the anti-fracking contingent, the forgive all student loans contingent, the mortgage overhaul contingent, the anti out-sourcing contingent, the anti-drilling contingent, the save the whale contingent. Then there are the global Occupy movements that are about a handful of similar issues plus others that are specific to each country’s crisis of the moment.
Floating around in the dizzying haze of Occupy Wall Street’s demands is an issue that is easily digestible by the average American, one almost guaranteed to be whipped into a frenzy by the media and sure to drive their ratings well past the 2012 elections, and also happens to be the greatest scandal of this and the previous decade: the abject refusal of the Obama administration and of Congress to indict, prosecute and jail the scores of arch criminals whose financial manipulation and double-dealing have directly and indirectly lead to the global financial meltdown. read more…