A lot of filmmakers like to spout off about their “8mm” days. Seems every independently spirited moving picture artist I ever read about speaks this line in one form or another: “I’ve been making movies since I was eight years old with my parents super 8 camera.” I personally never had access to that particular camera. Instead, I can be quoted using the exact same line, only insert the medium, VHS camcorder. From the second my father brought that boxy beauty home I was in love. For the years that followed I discovered three fires inside me; writing, directing and performing (You will never EVER catch me referring to myself using the words “triple” and “threat” bumped up next to each other. Never). I applied all three of these flames to over 12 full tapes of scratchy, quality degrading stories. (That was a VHS reference…not a “I tell shitty stories” reference). Because it was usually just myself, my best friend and sister making these pieces of master, I was always acting. It was something I enjoyed and because of those movies I got very involved in local theater.

15 years old playing a 75 year old. Hilarious.

I did the high school stage thing, I did the summer stock thing and I did the local civic theater thing. The best way to say it is, I acted the shit out of my youth. In college I even majored in acting. I took the Shakespeare classes and the method classes and the stage combat classes. I learned about Stanislavski, Meisner, Ibsen, Pinter…you know, all the usual theater student trappings and loveliness. It was all great fun and I loved performing…but something switched inside me. I started losing interest in all the structure and lessons. All the rights and wrong, the do’s and don’ts, the politics of the college stage. The writer inside me caught a fever, and as any write knows, the only way to break that fever is to write.

Playing Flop the Clown in Ward Robert's, Little Big Top

At the end of my Sophmore year (and last year actually enrolled in university) I had pretty much abandoned acting and was, instead, going back to what I truly loved most, having sex with animals dressed as humans…I mean writing. Since then I have devoted myself to both literary and visual storytelling. I wrote the remaining three years I was “at” college, then did that whole L.A. move thing. Since then I have wrote dozens a screenplays, directed four of them into actual movies and created a handful of shorts and web shorts. But all that time the acting flame was planning its escape. In the years that passed to create today, I have had the opportunity to perform in some truly fun ways. I was involved in an improv troupe for three years and a sketch group for two. I acted in some shorts for other people and got to play a silent clown in a feature. Currently I star in two web series, both very silly, but it pays the soul soothing bills (but not the actual bills…not the actual bills). Never anything meaty, but always fun. Cut to:

The back of my throat hurts. I can feel the mini-grapplings arrow-shaped hooks emmbedded in my flesh and a small weight being applied to it. That flame. That little acting flame that’s been bullied into giving up its oxygen by the two stronger flames, is now James Bonding itself up my body in hopes to breathe. So when it finally fans itself back to life, you can all blame Ward Roberts. I know I do.

My college improv comedy troupe, Full Frontal Comedy

What the fuck is this all about? Did I really need five paragraphs to get to this point? Probably not, but it was fun for me to look back, so kiss off. It’s important for me to remember that there was a time that acting was the dominate force in my life, and I loved it. I mean, Ward casts me in a lead role in his new movie! I damn well better reach back and pull out the passion. Last night was the table read for the flick. That’s where the cast and crew sit around and for the first time read the script in our respective roles. I knew right away that this was going to not only be an amazing good time and a damn fine film, but it was also going to give that little flame one helluva blow job. Yeah, you know what I mean.

The movie is called, Dust Up. It’s an action-comedy that takes place in the desert of Joshua Tree and is best described (to me anyways) as Straw Dogs with funny. It’s violent, hilarious and full of heart. I’m honored to be a part of it and can’t wait to act along side the rest of the cast, many of which I have directed in my own films, and some I just met and highly respect. Ward Roberts (you know him from The Baby Eaters, Lo, Joshua, Little Big Top) is the captain of this desert ship. He wrote the script and will be helming the awesome.

Ward and I doing some street performance

I’ve been so busy editing The Dead inside, that I have been slacking on the blog. This entry at least has me talking about something different, rather than the last couple months of me running at the mouth about singing ghosts. I will share more of the Dust Up fun as it unfolds. You will love this film. it’s gonna be a blast and a half. I will also do my best to deliver a entertaining performace, and just to wish myself luck I will close with this:

MacBeth.

Much Love

Travis

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