(bold type is Greg's original review)
which can be found at:
To preface my review, “Death & Taxes” is a movie I had the privilege to work on. Director Peter McCarthy is the best teacher I could ever imagine having in film school, and in life. Helping to make this film was a high point. I have great respect for everyone that I worked with. That being said, I will put on my honest film critic hat and tell you whether or not it is worth a watch.
G-Byrd, I’m totally stoked that you reviewed my film on your site and appreciate the time and focus you put into it. I enjoyed working with you, too, and my other former students; cinematographer, Erick Castillo, and soundman, Nick Najdowski. A lot of creative energy emanated from your now defunct alma mater, the College of Santa Fe, which was originally a WWII military hospital. Too bad cooler heads didn’t prevail because it certainly was a vibrant asset right in the middle of town. That being said I will, now, put on my honest filmmaker beanie with the propeller on top and tell you whether or nor not your review was worth the read.
First, a correction about the film’s completion date. You used the IMDB designation, “2014,” which is wrong. I screened D&T at the Santa Fe Film Festival in May of that year as a sneak-preview of a WIP (work-in-progress) because I wanted to see it up on the big screen, which in hindsight was a dumb thing to do. When a festival puts your film on their schedule, IMDB enters it into their data base as being done. It would take me a couple more years to hone the fine cut, complete the painstaking color correction, and finish the special effects. In reality, I’d probably still be fussing over it if I hadn’t burned out. So, as a word of caution to other filmmakers, who may be planning a strategic, coordinated release of their opus, it may be prudent not to do festival previews that could inadvertently put your film’s completion date into the IMDB database prematurely.
“Death & Taxes” is great conceptually. Due to the rise of cellular technology, the dead are rising. Not as blood-sucking zombies, but as mute idiots who want to drink and have sex.
Yes, it was a good concept, and because of that, I was able to attract a stellar team of filmmakers, like yourself, all from the Land of Enchantment to work pro bono over the course of a twenty-two-day shooting schedule during five consecutive weeks. My one-liner, however, didn’t push the concept but rather the story: Harold Hoptuit, a henpecked tax accountant, returns from the dead on the day his widow is getting engaged to the doctor who did her breast reductions and that’s the least of his problems.
Specifically, the rise of cellular technology has caused a proliferation of cell towers. They have become ubiquitous, springing up everywhere, even in cemeteries, and the bombardment of ever increasing radio frequencies is reanimating the dead folks beneath, who were Electro Magnetic Sensitive. My dead, however, are way more interesting than “mute idiots” who just want to imbibe and fornicate. They’re dealing with a profound existential dilemma: Why are they here, again? And are they even alive? That’s a lot to mull over, especially, if you can’t get drunk or have an orgasm, which is their unfortunate lot.
The initial societal response is shock and awe to see their loved ones risen from the grave. It doesn’t take long before people see the dead as a burden. After all, they aren’t paying their taxes.
What definitely started as a happy surprise, having a beloved deceased return, does get tired fast as the novelty wears off and the dead overextend their welcomes. It’s not so much that the dead are a physical burden, because they don’t really need anything to survive, but their emotional toll, whoa, drudging up and trying to sort out their past shit, that’s draining, and a subject living folks would rather relegate to ancient history. It also soon becomes evident to the powers-that-be that the bohemian lifestyles of these creatures threaten the very foundations of society—seems the dead have learned their work wasn’t that important, and they’ve already wasted one lifetime doing it.
Aaron Rhodes plays Harold Hoptuit, the first to come back from the afterlife. After escaping his grave and grabbing some beer, he makes his way back to the family and the home he once knew. His young daughter Claire (Aide Rodriguez) is ecstatic to see her father home. His wife Judy (Lynn Goodwin), not so much. She has moved on with Dr. Dave (Mike Ostroski). Harold wants to find his way back into the life he once knew, and realizes maybe he doesn’t fit in anymore.
Harold doesn’t grab a beer, he’s tossed one by Oscar, a convenience store clerk who has simpatico for him, because of how strung-out Harold looks. They become what would have been very improbable, for both, in Harold’s past life: good buds.
Whether because of the passage of time or his new, rather aberrant behavior, Harold doesn’t seem to fit in anymore, but, in actuality, he had stopped fitting in a long time ago, while he was still alive, and his family had already pretty much moved on without him. “Your father was a crappy dad and a crappy husband,” Judy says to Claire, on Harold’s first night back, and she’s right. Maybe that’s why Harold is so driven to make amends and to try to make things right. Dying seems to have made him aware of some life altering truths, but even with this new awareness, he’s still pretty oblivious—it appears he doesn’t even know that he committed suicide. Fortunately, the upside will be that in solving the mysteries of his past, Harold will be able to seize the present and demonstrate to a person, who truly does matter to him, his love.
Mystery, slap-stick comedy, buddy movie, zombie movie. It is hard to categorize a film like “Death & Taxes”. This is the best part of the script (also written by Peter McCarthy), but ultimately the films curse.
I’d also add to the categories; love story, family drama, satire, redemption struggle, outsider’s quest. Without a doubt, a mute, Chaplinesque, dead protagonist presents a quandary in finding a genre niche. Equally puzzling, however, is how the best part of the script could also, ultimately, be a curse, so I’m going to read on to find out after one diversionary caveat. Aren’t all of the disparate elements that you and I listed above capable of coexisting within a black comedy? To quote a review by your beloved mentor:
(______) is the kind of Movie with a capital M that they used to make in the 1940s,
when they weren't afraid to mix up absurdity with seriousness, social comment with
farce, and a little heartfelt tenderness right in there with the laughs.
Unfortunately, Roger wasn’t describing Death & Taxes, but Tootsie, and my comparison may seem a stretch, but, wait, there are parallels. Both Harold & Michael/Dorothy are transformed into someone they weren’t before, someone totally different from their past lives; both are upsetting the status quo with the behavior of their new persona; both are truer to whom they’ve become then who they were; and both are learning a lot about their real selves by being someone else. See, maybe it’s not an inappropriate comparison, and seeing that I just watched Tootsie recently, and then stumbled on this review, possibly kismet.
It never finds it’s footing.
That’s not funny, G. You know a seagull bit off one of my big toes while I was drunk and buried in the sand on Venice Beach, and the other I lost to frostbite while waiting in line at the Sundance Film Festival.
Do you want to be a dark comedy that comments on society? Or do you want to be a silly romp that just wants to make people laugh?
Yes, absolutely, a dark comedy, that’s exactly what the film wants to be. Oh, yeah, and a silly romp, that too, that’s exactly what the film wants to be, too.
McCarthy never fully commits either way.
Greg, you ignorant slut! Wait, calm down, Peter. Commitment, mmm… Okay, let me think about it, have you hit on something? Why didn’t I, as you say, commit to one or the other and do a more focused, conventional narrative? Let me explain as best I can, though I know already my explanation is going to seem inadequate and specious and sort of pulled out of my ass, much like my Tootsie comparison. You know, as a filmmaker and reviewer, that all films are rooted in themes, both major and minor. You can never go home again, (because if you do, watch out, you’re going to get more than you reckoned for) as a theme, certainly applies to Harold. So does; be true to yourself. After all, Harold’s headstone gets changed from: He did it my way, to, He did it his way. Loss of innocence is another. Harold returns child-like, open, and loving, but is slapped down by the dog-eat-dog world he formerly inhabited. His new ingenuousness becomes not only a liability; it becomes a threat that must be crushed. Acceptance of one’s fate—stomaching the hard inevitabilities of life that no one can avoid—is another good theme and certainly adds gravitas to Harold’s fateful decision to finally go where he belongs. Even though Death & Taxes is a relatively simple, straight-forward story, with a standard three act structure, I think that the convergence (and cross-currents) of so many themes—and I haven’t mentioned the myriad of political ones—makes the film hard to categorize and could lead one to the impression that I didn’t fully commit to a singular vision, or another way to say it, I muddied the waters a bit. My ambition was to incorporate a lot of ideas, and, if that hindered a more cohesive narrative flow, which is probably why what you say about the film is true, my bad. But it’s exactly what I was intending. It’s not that I don’t care about story; I rewrote endlessly trying to get the script right and tight, but, for me, story without provocative themes, is a wasted narrative. So, an admission and a fact: if the ideas are noteworthy, I’d rather error on the side of trying to say too much and complicate the flow of the story and appear uncommitted. A transgression, I’m sure, I’ve committed with all my films.
A few anecdotes to expound on where I’m coming from. Above James Cameron’s office door, I once saw a plaque that read: No Jim Jarmuschs. Without a doubt, Mr. Cameron is a talented filmmaker and very adroit at keeping his themes and narratives tightly intertwined. He doesn’t have my problem and his plaque boldly proclaims that he doesn’t want to deal with people who may have my problem. The “committed” kind of mega-films that he makes are the type of commercial production that feeds a huge, corporate, entertainment industry. Mr. Jarmusch’s films are not about that, which is why Mr. Cameron’s sign is appropriately placed.
After the first screening of Repo Man, bewildered Universal executives, in dead silence, shuffled out of the theater, scratching their confused heads, utterly baffled by the film they had just watched (and, now, unfortunately, owned). An even more shattering response was the first screening of Roadside Prophets where Bob Shaye, the president of New Line Cinema, at the end, stood up in the first row, and, silhouetted against the still glowing screen, threw his arms up over his shaggy mane and screamed, “WHY ARE WE MAKING FILMS LIKE THIS!” In both instances, I thought the films I’d screened were pretty darn good, and I took pride in having been involved with making them. Unfortunately, the executives, who were going to have the sell them, and the financiers, who had put the money up, were not not of my opinion. Why? Because what they wanted and what I wanted in a film were different. In the end, both films, ultimately, found an audience, and one make the studio a boatload of money. For me, personally, I’d rather watch Stranger Than Paradise than The Terminator, though I enjoyed them both. It’s obvious they’re made for different markets and different audiences and, therefore, wisely, have different economies of scale, and because of that, the way they’re perceived and received, I believe, should be adjusted accordingly. There is a market, albeit, a smaller one for Jarmusch-type movies, and because the budgets of most indies (especially DIY like mine) are a mere fraction of commercial films, why shouldn’t they be unconventional and muddy the waters a bit, and maybe even possibly dare to stay true to a flawed vision. Who knows? One may turn out to be a “worthy indie film” and unlike everything else.
The acting also leaves much to be desired. Credit to star Aaron Rhodes for going full on Charlie Chaplin in a role where he does not say a word. Mike Ostroski as the villainous Dr. Dave has fun with his character. Other than that, it is an ensemble of over-actors and under-actors.
Oh boy… Let’s get ready to rumble! I take exception to your comments about the acting in my film. What does that mean: an ensemble of over-actors and under-actors? When I was producing I’m Gonna Git You Sucka, I remember getting calls from the bigwig Chairman of United Artists Pictures, Tony Thomopoulos, telling me he’d seen dailies, and the acting was god awful, and was there anything I could do about it. As restrained as possible, I’d tell him that I thought the actors were creating incredible characters and to just wait until the film was edited, because it was going to be very funny—and then I’d add my de rigueurclosing remark—and make a ton of money. That would usually shut him up until the next dailies. Performances by actors, whom he thought left much to be desired, were exactly what made that film work, and the performances by my actors are exactly what make my little film work. Any lucid director knows their contribution to a project is minimal—maybe 10%—compared to the talent up on the screen. Good casting is essential because it gets you 90% towards the performances you want. Casting director, Patti Smith, associate producer, Lisa Jay, and I searched mightily for the right cast and, I believe, our diligence and hard work paid off with an amazing ensemble of talent, all from New Mexico. The funniest man I know, Aaron Rhodes, played my lead, Harold. Aaron was a member of Second City in Chicago for ten years and toured with Stephen Colbert. Judy, his wife, was played by the versatile Lynn Goodwin, whom I’d seen in a number of powerful plays and couldn’t wait to track down. Wry Mike Ostroski, Dr. Mike, had been in an East Coast Shakespeare troupe, honing his chops for years, and, luckily, had a recently transplanted to Albuquerque to start his now burgeoning film career. Aide Rodriguez, the daughter Claire, was a godsend, also from Albuquerque, who brought the innocence and emotional vulnerability crucial for that role. Katie Chavez, a founding member of the Up and Down Theater Company, a let-it-all-hang-out comedy ensemble, proved to be fearless as Harold’s love interest, Vicki. Dani Lenski, an actress and singer, gave me the shivers in her role of the poetry reading junkie, Natalie. Angelo Jaramillo, a local playwright, who I’d seen in a two-man show playing Saint Francis brought the essential simpatico to the role of Oscar. I could go on about everyone of my talented cast, but suffice it to say I can’t thank each and every one of them enough, because the performances they gave me were precisely what I wanted. If you got a beef, if you believe there is anything lacking, then criticize me for not have the chops to get that extra 10%. I wish sometimes there had been more time to block or shoot certain scenes, but because we were almost always under the constraints of not owning our locations, the pressure was intense, however, my actors always rose to the challenge and delivered, and I couldn’t have been more pleased. When Ali MacGraw saw Death & Taxes for the first time, she wrote me a note that read: “I love this movie & everyone in it. WONDERFUL, ORIGINAL, TOUCHING, FUNNY, SWEET, BRAVO.” My heart swelled when I read that; she recognized the efforts of my cast, and her feelings were exactly my own; I love everyone in it.
“Death & Taxes” has a lot of things going for it. McCarthy, along with cinematographer Erick Castillo, understand how to construct a frame instead of just moving the camera around aimlessly.
It was exciting to collaborate with Erick; he was meticulous, professional and totally committed. We did a fair amount of tests before the shoot, which were helpful to learn the Canon Mark V camera, but, also, to hang out and talk about a vision. There were six shooting axioms we came up with: 1) Only static shots, no dollies, pans or zooms 2) Single camera coverage as much as possible 3) No insert shots 4) Back lighting as much as possible 5) Narrow depth of field 6) Try for a S-16mm look. We veered from the rules occasionally, but the finished film is 98% true to our own Dogme
Santa Fe[1]collaboration. During the entire production there also was a set of axioms based on my producing experience: Keep it simple; Stay on the same page; Less is more; Expansive contraction (think big but get specific); Make it as good as you can; and, It is what it is. We were an all location shoot and were fortunate in finding sites that added production value to the look of the film. What came as a surprise was how many of the “just-right” locations we locked in the last week of prep. Lesson learned: never settle, and always kept searching to try and find the very best locales.
The fact that it was made for under $10K is inspiring.
Actually, the shooting budget was probably a little more than that, but it was incredibly bare bones, as you know. Pre-production (which included 100 T-shirts) was $1000; insurance was $2250 (a million-dollar liability policy); the camera & lighting rental package from Oscar Cifuente’s company, Seige Films, was $1500; misc. camera & sound supplies ran $500; locations, gas and parking came to about $1500; art direction was $1500 (which included a $500 Rubbermaid shed for the crypt); makeup $250 and craft service, which included meals, was approximately $2500. Our food budget would have been way more but, thankfully, almost a dozen, awesome Santa Fe restaurants donated meals to us. The production had a skeleton crew of a few key positions and then a pool of addition crew, who popped in as needed. Of course, everyone worked for free, but if the film does ever make money, everyone would be a participant.
The concept is brilliant. Unfortunately, the execution does not live up to what could have been a classic comedy.
Still, I recommend you check out “Death & Taxes”. It is a worthy indie film. I guarantee you will never see another movie quite like this.
Good summation, G-Byrd. Gracias and ditto. One can check out Death & Taxes at: www.pricklypearproductions.com Vimeo password: Thanks On pivotshare it streams for free. If you want to let me know what you think, email Peter McCarthy: 4pmcc@comcast.net
[1]https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dogme_95
[2]Many creative types claim to have been kicked out of Hollywood for their politics, but I actually was, and if you’ve seen “Floundering,” you will understand why, even though it was a comedy, it freaked out industry folks.
[3]Early on, I considered just make a rough video and sending it to Ricky Gervais in the hopes of selling him the screenplay. Maybe he would have made it a classic.
