By BOB HERBERT

Watching a new documentary about Vietnam War veterans, I was surprised at how old they looked and how worn their faces had become. These were fellows who had once laughed and danced to the music of the Beatles and Motown.

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The most chilling aspect of the video, which was made public by Wikileaks, is the chatter between two pilots, whose names have not been released. As Elizabeth Bumiller of The New York Times put it, the soldiers “revel in their kill.” “Look at those dead bastards,” one pilot says. “Nice,” the other replies.

The exchange reminds me of a Times story from March 2003, during the U.S. invasion of Baghdad. The reporter quotes Sgt. Eric Schrumpf, a Marine sharpshooter, saying, “We had a great day. We killed a lot of people.” Noting that his troop killed an Iraqi woman standing near a militant, Schrumpf adds, “I’m sorry, but the chick was in the way.”

Does the apparent satisfaction—call it the Schrumpf effect—that some soldiers take in killing stem primarily from nature or nurture? Nature, claims Richard Wrangham, an anthropologist at Harvard University and an authority on chimpanzees. Wrangham asserts that natural selection embedded in both male humans and chimpanzees—our closest genetic relatives—an innate propensity for “intergroup coalitionary killing” [pdf], in which members of one group attack members of a rival group. Male humans “enjoy the opportunity” to kill others, Wrangham says, especially if they run little risk of being killed themselves.

Several years ago, geneticists at Victoria University in New Zealand linked violent male aggression to a variant of a gene that encodes for the enzyme monoamine oxidase A, which regulates the function of neurotransmitters such as dopamine and serotonin. According to the researchers, the so-called “warrior gene” is carried by 56 percent of Maori men, who are renowned for being “fearless warriors,” and only 34 percent of Caucasian males.

But studies of World War II veterans suggest that very few men are innately bellicose. The psychiatrists Roy Swank and Walter Marchand found that 98 percent of soldiers who endured 60 days of continuous combat suffered psychiatric symptoms, either temporary or permanent. The two out of 100 soldiers who seemed unscathed by prolonged combat displayed “aggressive psychopathic personalities,” the psychiatrists reported. In other words, combat didn’t drive these men crazy because they were crazy to begin with.

Surveys of WWII infantrymen carried out by U.S. Army Brig. Gen. S.L.A. Marshall found that only 15 to 20 percent had fired their weapons in combat, even when ordered to do so. Marshall concluded that most soldiers avoid firing at the enemy because they fear killing as well as being killed. “The average and healthy individual,” Marshall contended in his postwar book Men Against Fire, “has such an inner and usually unrealized resistance towards killing a fellow man that he will not of his own volition take life if it is possible to turn away from that responsibility…At the vital point he becomes a conscientious objector.”

Critics have challenged Marshall’s claims, but the U.S. military took them so seriously that it revamped its training to boost firing rates in subsequent wars, according to Dave Grossman, a former U.S. Army Lieutenant Colonel and professor of psychology at West Point. In his 1995 book On Killing, Grossman argues that Marshall’s results have been corroborated by reports from World War I, the American Civil War, the Napoleonic wars and other conflicts. “The singular lack of enthusiasm for killing one’s fellow man has existed throughout military history,” Grossman asserts.

The reluctance of ordinary men to kill can be overcome by intensified training, direct commands from officers, long-range weapons and propaganda that glorifies the soldier’s cause and dehumanizes the enemy. “With the proper conditioning and the proper circumstances, it appears that almost anyone can and will kill,” Grossman writes. Many soldiers who kill enemies in battle are initially exhilarated, Grossman says, but later they often feel profound revulsion and remorse, which may transmute into post-traumatic stress disorder and other ailments. Indeed, Grossman believes that the troubles experienced by many combat veterans are evidence of a “powerful, innate human resistance toward killing one’s own species.”

In other words, the Schrumpf effect is usually a product less of nature than of nurture—although “nurture” is an odd term for training that turns ordinary young men into enthusiastic killers.

Current films such as Body of Lies, Brothers, Green Zone, Hurt Locker, In the Valley of Elah, The Lucky Ones, Men Who Stare at Goats, The Messenger, Redacted, Stop Loss — all excellent films with two things in common – the war and none did great business at the box office – including the two Academy Award winner, “The Hurt Locker.”

We can only speculate why important films like these don’t do better business.  The answers range from the unthinkable – Nobody cares – to the disturbing and more probably – that people are uncomfortable thinking about the war – or it may be that there is simply too large a  gulf between the cultures of America and Iraq.

But one thing about the war – all wars – is that when warriors return home, many suffer mental wounds.  Twenty percent of our returning warriors suffer from PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder), a condition those concerned with the military care deeply about… (families, loved ones, employers, community leaders).

The most recent film to deal with PTSD as its core subject matter was the John Lithgow film, “Distant Thunder,” released in 1988.  Understanding the mental wounds of our returning veterans must not be denied.  To deny such a condition is to deny the service and sacrifice of our military, no matter how one feels about the current middle-east conflicts.

Oliver Stone’s “Born on the Fourth of July” (1989), and Francis Ford Coppola’s “Apocalypse Now,” were both powerful stories reflecting on the mental damage suffered by combat veterans.  And, according to experts, the more our veterans are denied the opportunity to purge themselves of what many consider to be the shame of innocent civilian deaths, the greater will be the ongoing suffering of our returning heroes.

Given the difficult subject matter of PTSD and the mainstream’s aversion to embracing the realities of the war, what is the best approach to producing a film about a vet suffering from PTSD?  How much can be spent on such a film based on similar films past performance?  Such a film may be of interest to a cable network with a large subscription base — HBO, SHO, STARZ, TNT, IFC?  In that case a budget in the low seven figures may be justified.

Given the performance of current films dealing with Iraq, financial failure is the norm with moderate success the exception.  “The Hurt Locker” has only returned $40 million worldwide on a budget of $15 million.  And “Brothers” with a “name” cast has returned a similar $40 million worldwide on a budget of $26 million.

Perhaps the best approach to producing SANDBOX – the antithesis of the most popular hard driving action films – is to produce the film as an independent theatrical feature destined for the festival and art house circuit at a very modest budget.    The approach will require participation by a cast and crew passionate about the subject matter and willing to work for less than they might earn on a more mainstream production.

To date (mid-April, 2010), we have commitments from a wonderful principal cast including Emily Bridges, Will Shepherd and Brighid Fleming and look forward to starting production soon.  If you may have an interest in pitching in, we would love to hear from you.

Beau and Emily Bridges

ACTING: THE FIRST SIX LESSONS

Review from StageSceneLA.com

There’s an old black-and-white fan magazine snapshot of TV star Lloyd Bridges and his then teenage son Beau circa Sea Hunt.  In the shot, Bridges Sr. and Bridges Jr. are reading a copy of Richard Boleslavsky’s 1933 guide to Acting: The First Six Lessons. Now, some fifty or so years later, 68-year-old Beau and his 23-year-old daughter Emily are staging Boleslavky’s classic text at Theatre West, and the result is an often enthralling and edifying hour and a half of theater, brought to life by a multi-award-winning actor at the peak of his gifts and a exciting young actress just beginning her journey.

Boleslavky’s book is written as a series of dialogs between two characters, the “Teacher” and the “Creature.”  I don’t know if it has been presented as a full-length play before or not.  Whatever the case, under Charlie Mount’s imaginative direction, Acting: The First Six Lessons makes a smooth transition to the stage, especially with mood-setting original music by David Loud and an extremely effective lighting design by Yancey Dunham.

The performance begins with Beau as himself, telling Bridges family anecdotes as Emily goes about setting the stage.  (Director Mount and the two Bridges are credited with set decoration.  The design itself, of a sort of multipurpose circa 1930s living era is based on an original design by Jeff Rack.) “Tell them about the book Dad,” Emily interrupts, and Beau proceeds to do just that.  He informs us that it is the only book his dad ever gave him, and that he himself gave it to Emily when she was twelve (in 1998, the year of Lloyd Bridges’ death).

Following several Lloyd Bridges anecdotes, we flash back to 1933 and the height of the Great Depression. We are in the front room of the acting teacher’s apartment where he imparts his wisdom. Enter the “Creature,” who enthusiastically informs her teacher that all she wants to do in life is “Play!  Play! Play!” Young as she is, she’s already done King Lear—in the title role, no less.  He asks her to show him how she played the line “Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks!  Rage! Blow!” and the result is god-awful.  “Try saying it without ‘cursing the heavens,’” advises the Teacher, but try as she might the poor young thing can’t manage to say the words plainly and simply.  “You’ve destroyed the very conception of the word ‘theater,’” accuses the Teacher.  Worse still, when asked to define acting, the lovely but pathetic young creature is at a complete loss.

Fortunately, her teacher is there to set her straight. “Don’t start with a Chopin nocturne,” he advises. “Start with scales.” Good advice to both aspiring pianist and aspiring actor.

The six lessons are Concentration, Memory Of Emotions (She: “How can I play a murderer when I’ve never murdered anyone?  He: “Why does everybody ask me about murders?!”), Dramatic Action, Characterization, Observation, and Rhythm.

There are laughs aplenty in Acting: The First Six Lessons, thanks especially to Bridges père and Bridges fille’s splendid performances.  When Teacher asks Pupil to “Listen to the sound of an imaginary mouse in the corner,” Pupil can only reply, “Where’s the audience?”  When Teacher explains that Pupil will need talent, technique, education, and training if she wants to call herself an actor, it’s simply too much for the young thing to process, and she runs away, as far away as possible.  Later, when she returns, she’s completely out of breath, having nearly been run over because she was “concentrating on the happiness of my existence,” as Teacher had instructed her to do.

There’s an interesting segment on acting “for the talkies,” in which the Creature expresses her frustration at having to do short takes between constant interruptions, a dilemma which is as relevant today as it was during the first decade of sound motion pictures. Another segment talks about an actor’s need to be always spying on others and to learn from this eavesdropping.

Both Bridges double as other characters. The elder Bridges is a seen-it-all, done-it-all Stage Manager, who instructs Auditioner #17 (Emily) to “Let the character speak through you.”  Emily has a great turn as the Creature’s aunt, out for tea with the Director, in which she informs him rather haughtily that she doesn’t believe at all in the exercises he’s giving her niece.

Over the course of ten scenes, the action moves from the Teacher’s studio to a small theater to a film set to Central park and back, and finally, to a moving denouement atop the Empire State Building in 1936.

Both Bridges are terrific, and it’s not every day that one gets to spend an hour or two with an actor with over six decades in the biz (Beau’s first screen appearance was at age six in No Minor Vices) who is a household name as well.  The simple act of watching Beau Bridges’ facial reactions to his daughters’ lines is an education.  The captivating Emily Bridges is an actress of considerable talent and great promise, whose role allows her to transition step by step from clueless newbie to accomplished vet.  In one particularly memorable scene, she plays Ophelia quite movingly opposite an invisible Hamlet. Then, following suggestions by the Teacher which allow her to physically become Ophelia, she plays it again, even better the second time.

Each performance is followed by talkback with father and daughter, a treat in and of itself. At Opening Night’s talkback, an audience member remarked that she had learned more about acting that evening than she had in her entire MFA program. An exaggeration, perhaps, but a reflection of just how effective and affecting Acting: The First Six Lessons is.

Whether you are a student of acting, or simply a lover of good theater, Acting: The First Six Lessons has many tips to offer and many life lessons to bestow.  With its big name star and broad intergenerational appeal, it is likely to be a big, big hit for Theatre West.

Theatre West, 3333 Cahuenga Blvd. West, Los Angeles. Through May 16. Fridays at 8:00. Sundays at 2:00. Reservations: 323 851-7977 www.theatrewest.org

–Steven Stanley
April 9, 2010
Photos: Thomas Mikusz
]]> http://landfallprods.wordpress.com/2010/04/17/emily-bridges-new-play/feed/ 0 landfallprods Acting_photo_2 http://landfallprods.wordpress.com/2010/04/16/hello-world/ http://landfallprods.wordpress.com/2010/04/16/hello-world/#comments Fri, 16 Apr 2010 21:11:32 +0000 landfallprods ]]> Welcome to landfallprods.wordpress.com.  What am I thinking starting a blog!  Well, as a filmmaker who has been making his own films for around thirteen years, I thought it might be interesting to keep – for better or worse – a public journal documenting the ebb and flow of Landfall Productions efforts at producing a low budget feature film, SANDBOX.  Nothing fancy, mind you and hopefully offering something useful without going over the BS limit.

When I started making my own films, I wanted to make films about subjects I felt were important.  Subjects I chose were:  Education — CINE GOLDEN EAGLE Award for one hour documentary, “The Waldorf Promise;”  The Environment — NATIONAL VISION AWARD for half hour documentary, “It’s In The Air;”  The Environment — 2008 Telly Award for hour PBS documentary, “A Passion for Sustainability.”

We also explored the world of “no budget” feature film making with the 2003 horror/comedy “Director’s Cut,” made on a budget of $50,000.  The film was picked up for foreign distribution by York Entertainment and won “Best Feature Horror/Comedy” at FrightFest.  Though a financial failure,  through “Director’s Cut” I learned many important lessons as writer, producer and director.  The most important lesson of all?  The more time spent in development, the better the end result will be.