If you’ve been here before, then you might notice that all of the posts related to Shrink Me have been removed.  So, the site is feeling a bit naked having been stripped of 40 posts.  The reason for this is that we are two weeks away from the first day of production and the beginning of what will be a 4 month documentation of the pharmaceutical experiment and an investigation/education of the world of mental health/psychiatry that has infested our nation.  This is going to be massive and amazing as the support staff that is onboard will cover every possible side of the mind and the human body… from extensive blood testing, radiology, MRIs, Brain scans, SPECT SCANS, nutritionists, kinesiologists, pharmacists, doctors and psychiatrists from all sides of the spectrum, brain wave monitors, and tests of all sorts from XBox brain testers to iPhone brain games, therapists, life coaches, psychologists and on and on.

The support for the project is enormous and we are about to do something that has never been done.

Subscribe now as once we begin at the end of July, it will move quickly and intensely.  More information soon but get ready as it’s going to be an amazing ride.

Thanks so much

Talk soon

Click here for the full interview:

http://www.openmagazine.co.uk/big-screen/christopher-jaymes-in-memory-of-my-father.htm

If you’re in the U.K.: LBC 97.3FM London’s Biggest Conversation will be discussing In Memory of My Father with Chris Jaymes at 1830. Stop and have a listen if you’re around.

It’s amazing… they put our film above Indiana Jones for it’s UK opening… Look to the right side of the page under cinema…http://www.dvdtimes.co.uk/index.php?page=Default

Then click on it… Or, here’s the direct link for the story which couldn’t be more nurturing… http://www.dvdtimes.co.uk/content.php?contentid=67882

But if you prefer not to click around, here it is…

Showing that there is more to the American independent movie scene than geek love and inarticulate mumblecore, the debut directing feature written, produced and directed by actor Christopher Jaymes, demonstrates that is it possible to make a low-budget feature on Digital Video and also be smart, stylish and very, very funny. Not only however is the script of In Memory Of My Father razor sharp, brimming with intelligence, wit and profanity, but Jaymes shows that indie filmmaking doesn’t necessarily have to rely on non-professional actors either - and when the script is this good, you really want actors who are strong enough to deliver it with the appropriate sense of irony and comic timing.

The tone adopted here is not unlike Thomas Winterberg’s controversial Dogme standard-bearer Festen (The Celebration), striking the viewer from the outset with its transgressive and blackly comic sense of absurdity as the film crew fall over each other trying to record the last breath of an old, dying man. Where Festen however took a critical stance at the deep corruption of the Danish upper classes, In Memory Of My Father turns its gaze on the narcissism of the Hollywood lifestyle, where sex and drugs are freely available, and the family unit is equally a cause for dysfunctional behaviour. With all these sexual and emotional tensions building, the occasion of their father’s death and the gathering of family and friends provides ample opportunity for the inevitable meltdown that is to occur. But their father still has one more shock for them from beyond the grave. 

I cut out the part where they talk about what the film is about, you can always go there for the full review… Here’s where it continues…

But it’s not all sleaze and satire. There’s depth to the characterisation, each of the brother’s full-rounded characters with distinct and consistent personalities (the use of the actors own names suggests that they are probably drawing from their own personalities to some extent), but even secondary characters are well-defined, never appearing to be mere romantic-interest or conflict-generation devices to move the plot forward. The target of the over-privileged and over-indulged Hollywood Hills crowd with all their hang-ups and insecurities might appear an obvious target for satire, but like the work of Arnaud Desplechin (Kings & Queen), Christopher Jaymes gets to the nature of dysfunction within artistic families, intelligently, credibly and with a great deal of wit and humour. Clearly a major new talent in the making, Jaymes’ debut feature is simply phenomenal. 

Come & hang out as a few us will be there for the opening night Q&A and drinks afterwards.

As an obsessed (somewhat closet-ed) Laker fan, it’s overwhelming to see what they’ve accomplished in a year that started off in the gutter.  Most relationships seem to start in a heavenly place and quickly work their way downward and occasionally something else happens and instead of a start based on idealized feelings and an attraction that quickly tricks us into thinking we’re in love with a stranger that we barely even know, something intelligent and real occurs.  Watching the Lakers receive the trophy for the Western Championship Finals tonight filled me with a grounded hope.  I envied the camaraderie and that feeling of being a part of something so alive and visceral.  It’s very similar to the driving sensation I experience at the beginning of a dangerous relationship, only for them it’s actually happening over time.  A progression that started in a questionable place with the key component wanting to opt out, however he was forced to be patient and over time learned to trust those around him and worked towards bringing the best out of them.  And it worked.  The questionable perspective was eventually transformed into trust as the players stepped up and proved that they were worthy teammates.  Midway through the season, we lost our #2 player, Andrew Bynum and again, things were less than hopeful.  Blessed from all sides, we added something to it (Pao Gasol) who would never have been added had there not been a tragedy.  Again, to overcome the weakness, they embraced each others strengths and again, reformed a trust within themselves and tonight… after hard fought battles, working their asses off and forming a bonded trust amongst one another, slowly over time, and constantly testing that trust, validating it’s strength they celebrate what they’ve created and anxiously move forward.

If only I could take that approach to the relationships that I enter instead of driving myself in blindly… my sanity would be significantly more intact.  Up to now, I’ve been an absolute moron and have on more than a few occasions spent far too much time focused on a relationship that was stimulated by an initial attraction combined with a few compatible moments and an idea.  An idea that was so far ahead of what was actually occurring.  Kobe could have an idea that all of his teammates are great shooters, but if he doesn’t wait for proof, he’s nothing more than a dipshit with a misconception.  And how many times have we been guilty of that?  Not to say that a lot of good can’t come from those encounters, I absolutely adore my past experiences and the intensity I have experienced with those partners leaves me bonded close to them forever… and who knows, sometimes within those moments there is so much synchronicity that your life evolves and finds it’s home… but how often does that version really happen?

Alright, alright… Enough thoughtfulness… it’s celebration time in L.A…. not only did the Lakers win, but Clooney is single again… we’ve got something for both men and women to jump up and down about and honestly, it does feel good.  Everyone is a little nicer to one another and that camaraderie carries over when you’re sitting in traffic and waving their flags and sticker-ing their cars and honking their horns… and that’s doesn’t even mention what they’re doing for the Lakers.

Review in Total Film - a UK based publication In Memory Of My Father **** Certificate: 15

Running time: 96 minutes

There’s more than a whiff of Festen and Altman in first-time director Christopher James’s frantic, enjoyably overstuffed funeral drama, as the three troubled sons of a has-been Hollywood producer throw a rowdy wake for their problem patriach, which he has bribed the youngest son Chris to film. Despite the cooling corpse and the cameras, family tensions explode into black comedy as Chris finds himself torn between two lovers, cuckolded middle son Jeremy explores Ecstasy and marital honesty, and eldest son Matt gives his father’s ex-lover carnal comfort on the bedroom carpet. The film skewers revels in narcotic-fuelled Hollywood narcissism, with a no-holds-barred performance from Jeremy ‘Six Feet Under’ Sisto, and Judy Greer, hilariously dippy, greedy and horny as Dad’s last squeeze.

The past weeks there has been a lull in my reports as I have been intensively preparing for the intensive part of production to begin as we will be beginning the more intensive shooting, traveling and interviewing within the next two weeks.  I have held off beginning the part of the process where I begin taking the mixture of medications that have been prescribed to me while assembling the team of doctors that will be monitoring the progression that my body and brain will encounter.  The reality of what I am about to embark on has surfaced and brought about a number of fears, insecurities and questions.  

What am I doing and why?  Do I believe that I am as physiologically impaired as this doctor has suggested?  Do I want to expose myself, my brain and body to what in some reports have the capacity to do irreversible damage to my body and brain?  In short… I don’t honestly know.  I know that sustaining a consistency within myself is challenging.  I know that I have tried with everything in me for an extremely long time without overwhelming success.  I know that I have let myself down in numerous ways over my lifetime and that I have failed certain people in my life, not living up to what I know I could have, and yet… do I really believe that this is the answer?  That I will find salvation in a prescription drug.  At this point, I don’t believe that anything will bring salvation aside from myself however I am willing to try this path.  Am I somewhat skeptical and afraid?  Absolutely.  So why go through with it?

When I initially came up with the idea to make this film, it was inspired by receiving the initial assessment that overwhelmed me… that I was bipolar, ADD, OCD and had a paranoid personality disorder, but even more inspiring was the packets of samples handed over to me and the lack of explanation given to me while I was told how many of each pill to take and sent out the door.  I thought to myself… Your average person would walk away and trust what that doctor said without questioning anything further, take their pills and hope for the best.  My skepticism didn’t allow that and I questioned everything and began open up every door I possibly could to understand what I was getting into which led me to the realization that we are living in a world where more people are medicated than ever before.  More people are being prescribed anti-depressants than any other type of drug and yet, the research has not proven overwhelmingly effective, aside from the fact that you are more prone to suicide on an anti-depresants than off of one.  

The further I looked the more confusing it became.  Overwhelming success stories and overwhelming failures.  Why?  Maybe because the tests used to assess depression and ADD are so general that both Jesus and Celine Dion would most likely be summarized as a SEVERE-EXTREME candidate for both and if you wind up walking into an office where the doctor doesn’t look at you as an individual and read between the lines, you will be stamped and categorized prematurely and before you know it, living a pharmaceutically dependent life. 

For some, I believe this may be extremely helpful.  For others, detrimental.  The film we are making is not about how I feel in every moment of every day and which pill feels like what… that is my own journey and sets me in a solid position to be your guide, but what I am interested in uncovering is why we have become a society so dependent on external assistance to find what we are looking for.  To uncover why we are so willing to ingest chemicals with such unpredictable and potentially damaging side effects to carry out a hopeful and somewhat desperate search for happiness.  Why do we all seem to feel that it should feel better than it does?

These past weeks of talking to tons and tons of people about what we are doing has filled me with so many questions, as the reactions have ranged from overwhelming support to passionate rage that it shouldn’t be done.  People encouraging me with their success stories while others implanting the deepest fears into me that the chemicals I am ingesting are a poison that cannot be undone.  These are the questions we are faced with and the stigma that surrounds the idea of medication for mental stability.  We are being sold that these drugs can ‘change our lives’ and yet, no one wants to admit that their on it, when more than 1/5 adults in America are all on something.  Each person I speak to about it, has a story.  People I have known for years have never told me that they have been on medication for years until I brought it up.  It’s time to bring clarity to what we are dealing with and it’s time to alleviate the stigma and learn when is the right time and when they should be avoided.  How to properly handle the subject with a healthy caution.

Have I been more stable since being on Depakote?  Absolutely.  Was that because of taking the drug or was it simply the idea of taking the drug?  Was it because my life has recently changed and my load has become excessively lighter than it was this previous year?  Is it because I am working on this project and recording and playing music for the first time in years?  There is no way of knowing without isolating each event, but that is not possible in our average day so all you can do is feel it out and make your best guess.

In all honesty, my moods shift all over the place, my focus is still challenged in every direction, I experience emotional pain and anger and stress and self worth issues constantly, so it’s not that so much has changed, but there is something that allows me to move through things just a slight bit easier.  That said, I’m also staying at a dosage of Depakote that is far below the therapeutical levels required, so at this point everything is premature.  However, that will be changing shortly.  I will not be upping my dosage until we begin shooting full time, most likely two weeks from today, at which point… it should be a good ride.

Stick around… we will be posting video blogs, pod casts as well as, a live internet radio show that will be scheduled for a few days a week with a variety of amazing guests and it should be a good time.  In the meantime, thanks for the overwhelming support that you have all been giving and for all of the ideas you’ve been sending in.  There will be some significant changes over the next month as the blog shifts to a fully functional media driven site.  

Enough for now and again… we’re moments away!!  Talk soon. 

Moments… we seem to live our entire existence based on moments.  Moments that standout for one reason or another… moments that stand as highlights that we use to summarize a previous year, a previous relationship or career and we discredit all of the surrounding moments that are seemingly less poignant.  If you took a vacation to Mexico five years ago and the entire trip was pleasant until day five when you chose to grab a quick chimichanga from a street vendor and spent the rest of the night on a toilet and the following day quietly attempting to remove the disgruntled look from your face while cautiously taking your seat at the table, there is a solid chance you will forever summarize Mexico with those moments.  The more extreme the moments the stronger the association, be it good or bad.  

There is a constant pressure placed on how I am feeling at the moment… there is a constant observation of the moment to moment shifts that naturally occur… almost an unfair pressure for some sort of motion, either feeling better and more stable, or worse, numb and disconnected.  Watching my thoughts and feeling my feelings from a position perched just up and behind myself, a question comes to mind… 

“What is it that I’m wanting to feel?”

Generally, the response to these kind of questions are extremely general.  

“I want to feel good… I want to feel happy… I want to feel loved… and successful… and that I like myself… and confident… and healthy.”

But any one of those adjectives are really just a reference point reaching towards something from before… a feeling that has been felt in a given moment in a given circumstance that you are now hoping to recreate or re-experience.  A state of being you want to live within instead of occasionally visit.  

So, basically if I’m hearing myself correctly, you’re telling me that I am unfairly judging the whole of my life by an occasional feeling I’ve felt in certain moments and placing those feelings as markers that I now use to gauge my current state of happiness, or lack thereof?

Yes… that’s what I’m telling you.

Well, doesn’t that seem a bit like I’m setting myself up for an extensive amount of self-judgment based on ideals that can’t be sustained.

I’m not saying they can’t be sustained.

Then what are you saying?

I’m saying that your only looking at the peak of the feeling within the given moment.  You’re not accounting for the whole of the situation.

How do I do that?

By remembering all of the moments and feelings inbetween, since…

Um… since… those moments are much more telling and cover much more time then the peaks?

Sort of…

Hey… I thought you were bipolar and ADD, not schizophrenic.

Don’t forget OCD and paranoid.

Right.  But not schizophrenic.

Not that I’m aware of, but I wouldn’t rule it out.  I have to bring it up to the psychiatrist before we can rule it out.

Wouldn’t the psychiatrist have brought it up to you?

Not necessarily.

But…  if you were…

Let’s not get off track.  The point is… moments are just moments.  Just because you shit your pants all day in Mexico, doesn’t mean that Mexico is a shitty place where everyone who goes there shits their pants.  And because you didn’t necessarily feel all that perky for those moments, doesn’t mean you didn’t feel good the whole time.

I don’t get it.

What?

I never shit my pants in Mexico.

It’s a bad example, alright… I’m just saying…  We base so much on how we’re feeling in that one specific moment and then use it to base our standards, but we forget about all of the real time, the life time inbetween, but the inbetween is really all that matters, as the majority of our lives seem to be spent in the inbetween.  I can’t help to base my good feeling times on those highlights in my life… I can’t help but to judge a relationship by the highlights, but would you ever say watching the highlights on the news compares in any manner to actually witnessing the entire… real thing.

So, you want me to pay attention to how I feel when I’m feeling normal and try to base things off of being normal?  Why would I want to be normal?

No, that’s not what I’m saying.

So, what are you saying?  What are you saying?

Nothing.  Forget it.

Do you not feel good now?

I feel fine.

We’ve started to receive reviews from UK based publications surrounding the release of In Memory of My Father!!  IMOMF opens at the Institute of Contemporary Art, London for a two-week run on June 6, 2008. Here is a new review from Film Review… a nice one!! And below that one from MAXIM…  Please tell all of your UK friends to come check it out!!

In Memory of My Father
4 stars

The title might suggest a straightforward drama of love and loss, but it’s clear from the opening scene – which sees wannabe film-maker Chris (Jaymes) pointing a camera straight in the face of his Hollywood producer father as he breathes his last – that it’s all a bit more complicated than that. For Dad’s (Austin) dying wish was for his youngest son to document not just his death, but also his wake and the impact his passing has on his nearest and dearest. And it’s not long before said wake descends into chaos – with Chris attempting to juggle his filming duties with his overwhelming feelings for his ex-lover Nicholle (Tom) and the demands of his new teenage girlfriend Christine (Lakin); his brother Matt (Keeslar) enjoying a passionate – if brief – affair with his father’s young widow Judy (Greer) and their messed up sibling Jeremy (Sisto) embarking on a drug-fuelled, faintly homoerotic journey of self discovery with new best friend Eric (Cole).

As an increasing number of characters join the raucous fray, relationships between them become confusing. It’s made even more muddled with the discovery that the boys’ uncle stole away their mother years previously, making cousins half-siblings and muddying the mix even further. But this just adds to the enjoyable mania of the piece and, as the action takes place over the course of one traumatic day, you can’t help but be swept along with it.

But for all the mayhem – of which there is a great deal – this is more than just a snapshot of dysfunctional modern family life. Writer/director/star Jaymes has brought a great deal of acerbic humour and edgy characterisation to his script, and the pace never lets up for a second. Yet underneath it all there’s some genuine heart; Jeremy’s burgeoning friendship with Eric is surprisingly touching, while Chris’s pain at both his father’s death and his mother’s betrayal occasionally crack his sarcastic mask. In fact, all of the boys carry their fathers legacy through their messed up relationships with women – having witnessed their mother leave for their uncle, and their dad subsequently hook up with a string of unsuitable women, it’s not surprising that they are all struggling to make valid commitments. 

As the movie boomerangs between laugh out loud humour, high drama and moments of genuine pathos, Jaymes keeps his hand expertly on the rudder – even more impressive considering he’s also taken a starring role – so keeping the tone balanced throughout. His cast are excellent and clearly loving every minute, Jaymes and Sisto in particular embrace their characters with gusto and it’s impossible not to be caught up in the moment with them. All in all, it’s a small film with a big reach, a great antidote to the summer’s blockbuster onslaught that effectively showcases some of Hollywood’s most promising young talent.

Film Review - U.K.
Nikki Baughan

As strange as it may seem… IMOMF is getting reviewed in England’s Maxim Magazine… They only place three films in the printed version per month and ours is one of them!! Here’s a blurb from the review.

In Memory Of My Father – 4 stars
If you like your comedy dark and your film families truly demented, Christopher Jaymes’ dysfunctional gem is for you. A Hollywood producer has died and his youngest son Chris has been asked to film the ensuing wake. The result? Familial carnage so funny and so ridiculous you’ll be weeping tears of joyous blood. Thanks so much Maxim!! Look forward to seeing you in London!!

Talked to a friend today who was having a tough time with a cyclical issue that consistantly returns surrounding her career.  A huge amount of work spent towards an overwhelming accomplishment that she succeeds to pull off while those surrounding her tend to get the credit and the reward.  When something is so cyclical and recurring there is no denying that you are creating it, that you in some way have decided that this is how it will be and until you understand the crappy agreement you have allowed yourself to settle for, the contract you have made with yourself to say… ‘Yes, this is how it’ll be for me… I’ll take it.’  You will continue to succeed at fulfilling this unconsciously accepted goal.  You may not want it or like it in any manner and wish so desperately for it to be different, but that is irrelevant as you have scarred yourself with this subconscious tattoo that will continue to live on inside of you.The conversation started with that customary greeting of ‘how’s it going’ and was responded to with that response that we tend to hear so often.  

“Same shit.”

A few reaffirming sentences validate the commraderie of living in that state.  

“Same shit, just a different pile” as another friend said to me the previous day.  Somehow that quickly stimulated something along the lines of… “Like a hamster on a treadmill.”  And then it hit me.

The feet of a hamster seem more like hands, don’t they?  Kind of?  The hamsters I remember holding years ago seemed to have long, lanky toes that were more like stiff little fingers.  I started imaging those little hand-feet (we’ll call them) having to grab onto whatever it was that they were walking on, with every step.  Then I began to realize that those spinning wheels that they run on are not your average treadmill, as they are generally constructed with lots of cross bars instead of a flat surface.  A human running on a treadmill just clomps along, thoughtlessly pounding upon the spinning surface, but for a hamster it’s not so simple.  They don’t have big flat soles pushing the bars of their treadmill, but instead their little hand-feet have to grab onto each passing bar with meticuluous precision again and again and again without allowing their legs to fall between the cracks.  And those bars are generally not moving slowly, usually you can feel the winds a few feet from the cage.  Not only that, but the bars are passing within an inch of their eyes, distorting and blurring anything in front of them.  It’s an extremely demanding task on the hamster’s entire being…  imagine it… It’s like if you were forced to cross a mile long river hanging from monkey bars that were actually train tracks and the train was just behind you forcing you to travel at the speed of an amphetamine.

Grab… grab… grab… grab, grab, grab, grabgrabgrabGRABGRABGRABGRABGRABGRABGRABGRABGRAB…  and you can’t see shit, but you don’t feel safe closing your eyes.  Focus, focus, focus… the world is spinning in front of you, precision grabs, don’t slip, don’t let up or you’re fucked… and… whew… nice one.  Let’s go stick our nose on this metal ball over here so some water can spill on my face and I’ll try to swallow a bit of it before it gets dried up by the chemically-manufactured bits of crap they’ve covered my floor with making it so I can’t see where to avoid walking on all the shit I’ve made over the past four days since they last cleaned my cage.

I think these hamsters may not be getting the credit they really deserve.  Honestly, at the end of the day, how often do you hear people commending hamsters for what they go through?  But then again, at the end of the day… they are just hamsters.