This is the last of Andrew's articles from the Banff Television Festival.  Due to the nature of this page, the articles are posted with the most recent being the first or top story.  If you want to read this in cronological order, you need to go to the bottom of the page and start with the first posted article.  I have immensely enjoyed these articles and hope that Andrew can make it out to join me in Toronto for the film festival here this summer.  I'm sure we could get into all kinds of trouble.

T Plus 6

Sometime during Breakfast,  Bob pointed out that as the week progressed, so did the amount of time we allowed for sleeping in;  on Sunday we were up at eight, while here we are on Friday eating breakfast at one thirty in the afternoon.  Hurriedly eating, as we watch bus after bus drive past the windows, coming from the Banff springs on their way to the Lake Louise excursion; we have until two to catch the last one.  There's nothing like rushing a bacon, cheese and mushroom omelet to get you in the mood for a hike several hundred feet above sea level.

Last night, Fareed lost his cell phone at the barbecue; checking his message from Keith's phone he hears a female voice say "no, it's dead."  Not much of a clue, but at least we know it's been found,  the real clicker though, is Bob was standing next to Anita, a producer, the night before after finding a cell phone and saying those exact words.  Not knowing Fareed has lost his phone. Bob didn't pay too much attention as Anita turned it in to the lost and found.  Which is where Fareed went, causing him to miss our bus to Lake Louise.

We regretted not wrestling the bus driver down, but knew that Fareed could catch one of the last two; at least we hoped he would.  In the meantime, we discussed people we want to stay in contact with over the next year, for professional and personal reasons; emphasizing on those that would be fun to work with.

The lake Louise Excursion was somewhat uneventful,  Fareed did arrive on the next bus and our group, now including Anita,  Rebecca and another producer headed off to the canoe rental stand.  Breaking of into pairs, they headed out onto the water;  I broke off to make contact with three native women I had met earlier;  one of which had told me a few nights ago about a trip to LA some of them were taking.  A government thing mixed with their own money to pitch to the Studios down south, Spielberg was mentioned.  They told me how I could get in on it, show up on my own dime and their boss would vouch me through to the meetings; their boss is John, a nice producer that's done several projects I'd already admire.  Sadly though,  my own dime is tapped out from this trip,  so much that I'm borrowing money off of Keith's credit card,  so I'll have to pass;  not to mention Bob wouldn't be there, the thought of pitching on my own doesn't appeal to me.

I was impressed by the mist that floated around the mountains, then watched in amusement as the canoes in the distance began turning around in unison.  In moments, they were racing to shore as pellets of ice showered down on them.  Turning the excursion into an indoor event.

There was a buffet, not overly hungry I followed Bob around, possibly hoping for a repeat of the napkin incident; he entered the corner where Rebecca was eating, the writer that shares the same interest in a subject matter as myself.  I must admit, the slight of the other night seems just a figment of my imagination; as the group discusses School politics.  Being the only one there without children,  I won't address my two cents,  but will talk about this:  I've come to the conclusion about this industry, first impressions do not work;  as much as people tell you to make a good impression,  don't trust your own of others.  I've had several that went from "this is a good person that'll help my career," all the way to "How did I get stuck with this person, off, off."  Not to mention this is an industry of eccentric people, there could be a hundred reasons they make a bad impression but still be a genius; look at Glen Gould.  The opposite is also true, jerks and talent less hacks compensate by being a great personality; it's how they survive.  It's only later, when the pressure is on that Eddie Haskell shows himself,  but by then you're already pregnant with his bastard version of your film;  try getting child support out of him then, he's already charming the copyright off the next up and coming writer.

I'm sorry, what was I saying?  Oh yeah, Rebecca may not hate me but is just not sure what to make of me yet.

I've also had the opportunity to meet Jared, a native producer looking for a native writer for a native project.  It would be wrong to mention the subject matter here, not my cup of tea really, a genre I tend to avoid; but I still stepped up and asked him to consider me if he didn't have luck with the others.  As it were,  he was already considering me, and suggested we get together later in the night to test each other out,  see if we could work together;  the meeting didn't take place, nor has he phoned,  but at least I know some people know who I am.

At least I tried, right.

Bob and I lost track of Keith and Fareed as we waited for the return bus; it gave us the time to discuss points of the series,  direction and possible weaknesses of the over feel of it,  not to mention he doesn't like the idea that we pitched three projects,  two of which the heroes have the same name.  He also mentioned holding off writing further episodes, as a writer, and on behalf of all writers whose ideas smash them in the head at two in the morning, and won't leave them alone until it's written down in plot form...I say this to you, Bob:  I guess so, if it's best for the project.  On the bus ride itself, we discussed the follow up packages to the networks; plotting out our devices that'll make our proposals stands out.  The trick is to wow them without singe-ing(?) them.  Too small is unnoticeable on a huge pile of proposals, too big just becomes desperate.  I don't want to ruin the surprise, but we have something brewing.

The conference center is empty, only a few shipping boxes remain; last
minute stragglers check their mailboxes in hope of one final hope of a deal.

The Banff 2003 television festival is over, all that's left is to take what we started here and push it further.  The real work is what comes next.

We head back to the hotel for naps,  watch television maybe;  it was kind of neat to see Keith seeking advice from Bob on directing and the reply was the two of them watching the first Lethal Weapon,  taking it apart scene by scene.  I threw my two cents in from a writer's point of view, but apparently it's the camera angle, lens size and flash cut that keep the audience enthralled.

Kim Catrell sightings:  There's always next year...or, just watch her on television; meeting her might destroy the illusion and hope that she's like her character...in Undiscovered Country.

Andrew.