“Like Father, Like Son” Teaser
This is a teaser for a short documentary that is coming up on Squigglebooth. Filmmaker Trevor Bayack becomes a limousine driver to pay his bills. The job is very similar to his Father’s work — a New York City cabbie. And though his Father is content with his job, he is disappointed with his Son’s new line of work as this is not what he had imagined for his Son. A documentary on family, passion for driving and expectations. Keep an eye out for it as it should be up soon.
- Song by Mogwai. Buy album on iTunes
Also, the Day 6 video for Videoblogging Week will up sometime next week. It requires a lot more time than I first imagined but the result should be quite adorable!
April 8th, 2007 at 11:58 am
Ajit I am so used to hiding behind the camera, it is tough to see me as the subject of any film. It is good work man, I am excited to see the rest.
TreV
April 17th, 2007 at 4:51 pm
Nicely put together teaser - when is the full doc showing?
April 17th, 2007 at 6:46 pm
Modifoo,
Most likely June. Checked out your site, interesting.
May 19th, 2007 at 1:20 am
Dear Ajit,
Saw you on Second Cinema by accident. Thanks for wearing my tee! You did a great job.
Guilelessly,
Hunter
August 5th, 2007 at 12:17 pm
love it. Keep posting diverse film fodder. I am a devout visitor.
September 21st, 2007 at 2:41 pm
This is a father-son excerpt from the most powerful book ever published on the subject, The Wrong Schwartz. (www.TheWrongSchwartz.com) I’ve read the book several times—and, full disclosure, I wrote it! Joel D. Block.
Check this out…
When I failed to score the highest on a school-wide test, my father ripped into me for so long that I nearly passed out on my feet. Then he turned and extended a strap toward me.
“What’s that for,” I asked with terror.
“Beat me,” he demanded.
“Papa…”
“Beat me for having raised a loser! You want to turn out like the Wrong Schwartz boy? Is that what you want to become? Is that what you want to make of me!”
The Wrong Schwartz boy, as he was called, was the shining example of underachievement used by my father and fathers like him. It was shame enough if a child, especially male, was born dull. Shameful, but it couldn’t be helped. Those in my community might shake their heads about boys who simply didn’t have it. They might throw up their hands, but tragedies happen, and they would eventually understand.
To be capable and not hard working, that was another thing altogether. The family of such an offspring might as well have moved to a leper colony.
Harold Schwartz, older than I, in his twenties, was the firstborn of brilliant twin boys. Unlike his super-achieving brother, a Harvard law professor, he committed the unpardonable sin of having brains and not using them. He buckled under the weight of expectation and spent most of his energy making sure he would not be first in anything again. He disappointed every expectation his parents had for him. He was finally cast out of the family when he managed to get a full scholarship despite himself, then lost it due to academic failure, and appeared happy, a successful failure.
My father thrust the strap into my hand and my body shook with a palsy of fright. He made me beat him. It would have taken a lot more courage, much more than I could muster to refuse him. The question of how free of him I might dare to be was not open for consideration. I closed my eyes and pulled back my trembling arm striking him repeatedly.
“Harder,” he demanded. “Harder!”
“Noooooo!” In shame and rage I felt the scalding cry come from my throat. He would not release me. The pain of beating my father was so severe that it made me moan. A river of tears fell from my eyes and down my cheeks until he granted me permission to stop. Afterwards the tears continued to flow so heavily that I saw nothing around me for several moments.
Then I felt intense shame. Shame for failing to be the best, shame for failing my father, shame for crying. My father never cried, I wasn’t supposed to cry either. Crying was weak, and I felt shame for showing weakness.
September 24th, 2007 at 3:48 pm
Powerful stuff, Joel.
September 27th, 2007 at 5:20 pm
Hey, that’s only the beginning of the book. Check it out. Don’t want to buy it? Have your library order it. I’m not looking to make money with the book, I want readers, any way I can get them.
JB