I have a little dilemma at the moment:

My interview with Chris Sparling.

When I met him some months ago, he was a hopeful, almost director/writer/actor. His first film, AN USI AT THE ALAMO, which he wrote and co-directed was already in the can, undergoing the difficult gestation of editing. He drove to my house for the interview and I took a photo of him in the woods near a gallows-looking Jungle Jim befitting the main character of his film, a twenties-something "loser" (played by Chris) who announces to his family that he is determined to succeed at something and that something is to commit suicide on a particular day.

I saw UZI. It was premiered at an ornate 1920's theater with a full house of over seven hundred people, friends, family and professionals who came to support the film. I laughed out loud a lot and found myself thinking to myself (ever so silently) the ultimate compliment one writer to another: I wish I could write like that!

Now, Chris Sparling is a real director. He is a real writer. He has moved from potential to kinetic. He has even succeeded in finding a distributor for his film which comes in a neat DVD box with a catchy cover

"Every life has a story. Some have better titles."

He has already finished two other screenplays and is working on another one. A major, independent film director is interested in his writing.

Chris Sparling has a lot to tell me. Yet, at this moment, with a deadline looking me gaunt in the face, he is not here to talk to. He is on a Carnival Cruise ship, sunning himself, guzzling some tropical refreshment somewhere down there in the Caribbean.

That is my dilemma.

I have a deadline.

So, the interview will go on, even without him.

I set up the chair in my sunny studio and take out my note pad. Funny, I just remember that once, I used a Ouija board to interview a certain person who left this physical plane before I could get to talk to her (I didn't get too far. But I found out where my lost keys were).  

Ah, here he would be coming if he were coming...  

ME:  Good morning, Chris! Make yourself comfortable. How are you?

CHRIS:

ME:  What I find amazing, and what other young filmmakers would love to know - excuse me if I lurch to this immediately - is how did you manage to get a distribution deal so quickly? And for your first film? After all, this doesn't happen often. It's almost impossible in fact...

CHRIS:

ME:  You once told me that you spend hours every night writing query letters to producers, agents and directors. But without a publisher or distributor in this business (the same goes for the writing, or music business) there is no way to get a sound from that inner tree into the outer forest. Dogged perseverance, you certainly have that, Chris...

CHRIS:

ME: Okay. Let's come back to that...Let me say that I enjoyed your film, UZI. I can't believe you made it for what you did. The budget was less than what many people spend on a new car. Some of the scenes were hysterical. That policeman, for instance, who is obsessed with tracking down his former high school teachers for payback. Making his gym teacher spring through traffic across the busy road. That was one of the funniest scenes. At first, I was a bit concerned about the subject matter. Suicide, of course, can be touchy.

My one criticism if you want to hear it...

CHRIS:

ME: ...was the film was too crowded with eccentric, oddball personalities. Ah, yes, I loved that line when the main characters parents are defending him and his plan to check out. His father says to another parent, "Hey, most kids his age don't know what to do with their lives." That was great!

CHRIS:

ME: You certainly, though, proved yourself as a writer. By the way, thanks, for letting me read your new script, "Headbangers." I must admit I was very surprised. That wrenching modulation from a wacky comedy of UZI to the hammered violence and sex of "Headbangers." Very convulsive. Also, because I know you as a very calm, sensitive guy who chooses his words carefully. You are so polite and don't seem to be the explosive type. I've noticed that you even blink slowly - don't forget I had the opportunity to watch you for an hour and a half on screen - but the violence and language in this script really yanks into a completely different dance step, a lurch to the unexpected. Also, I must tell you. Your sense of dialogue is keen. You have an ear, for sound and nuance of character. I feel that language, is our cultural DNA, a psychic fingerprint, if you will. It was distinct in each character. A subtlety not unlike a smell, or an aura. That is something one has, or doesn't, like phrasing in music. You have that gift, man...

CHRIS:

ME:  (I know you would say, "Thank you"

if you were really here. So, I'll say, "You're welcome.") Let's get back to your personal plans. You recently told me that your day gig at the insurance company seems be oppressively static, especially after all of this success. I know. I felt it for so many years teaching and doing real estate. It's that, duality-of-the-inner-life-made-outer thing. Yet now, after UZI, you must be itching to get out of the stall and break into a run.

I know that you've already made plans to move to New York City to be closer to the business. I know that you've already sent a script to X who is very interested in your writing. One thing, man, I have to say, that background in Criminal Justice must really help you. You can be methodical with a passion. That's great...

Excuse me, my cell phone is ringing. Can you hold on a second? I hate when people answer their cell phone when they're in the middle of talking to me, as if it's some deus ex machine summoning them out of their little lives. But I got news - it's just banality with a ring tone - and now I'm guilty of the same thing...

Hey, It's Chris! It's you! Great! Now I can ask you where he got that distribution deal. Chris?

CHRIS: Hey, Vin. I just got back.

ME: How was it? 

CHRIS: Great. The weather was great. The food was great. Kerri and I had a great time.

ME: Hey, Chris, how did you get that distribution deal?

CHRIS: What? Why are you asking? For the interview? 

ME: Well, there's been a change of plans...

CHRIS: Gee. Well. Okay. I thought we had until Saturday....

ME: Well, something else came up. Hey, one thing I've learned in life is that you get what you need when you need it. You get it when you're ready. One door opens, you know...

CHRIS: Yeah, well. Let me know when you want to do it.

ME: Absolutely.

CHRIS: Well, at least let me tell you about how I got that deal. I spent a lot of time researching what distributors have acquired films like UZI in the past From there, I basically made a hit list starting first with letters, following-up with emails and phone calls, and then finally sending screener DVDs to those companies that requested them. It was crazy. Within a month's time,

I already had three separate offers made. Why are you asking? When are we going to do that interview?

ME: Chris, Chris. You're breaking up...

CHRIS: Vin...

ME: Chris? Oh drats! Geewillkiers! I lost you! Geez, I hate cell phones. 

I didn't lose him. I hung up. I think to myself, why call him back and bother him with the interview? It's all the same stuff which I already know and now you know already. The guy must be tired. All that fun, the travel, the change in climate. Let him sleep. He can read the interview when he's all rested.

If you want to know more, please contact him yourself at: scarredheelproductions@yahoo.com

Just don't tell him about the interview.

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Vin Fraioli, born in Providence, is an author of numerous articles and the book, "Change of View." He still lives in Rhode Island with his wife and two kids when not traveling around the world giving lectures and concerts as a classical guitarist. He is also a sometimes actor.