William Horberg

A Drifting Life

I briefly met the great Japanese manga artist Yoshihiro Tatsumi when he was autographing copies of his beautiful book "The Push Man and other stories" at the ComiCon in San Diego a few years ago. The next year I got his collection "Abandon The Old in Tokyo". They are the works of a master storyteller and it was really cool to get him to draw a cartoon inscription into each edition.

But I didn't really know that much about him, or his historical place in the history of Japanese comics. A lack of knowledge that I can now correct, as his latest work "A Drifting Life" may be his masterpiece, an 834 page autobiographical memoir in manga form that tells his life story as it parallels and coincides with (and Tatsumi plays a major role in) the birth and development of Manga in postwar Japan.

I copied a few drawings from the pages of the book as an homage and appreciation and a way to share them with you on the blog (and because I do not have a scanner here while I am working in Melbourne!).

While still in high school Tatsumi started drawing the 4 panel cartoon strips that were starting to appear in newspapers in Japan in the late 1940's and early 1950's as the country started to pull itself out from under the ashes of its wartime defeat and post-war occupation. He won a local competition and eventually got to meet his hero Osamu Tezuka who is really the godfather of Japanese manga. He even formed a kind of junior league manga club with other young fans around the country who shared their work with each other and helped to promote the books and artists they liked.

Tatsumi's simple, elegant drawing style is a real pleasure, but more than the artwork, he has a great story to tell and is a natural storyteller, full of humor and humanity. What a gift that he shares with us his life story in this artistic format that he himself helped to invent and shape!

william

Tomorrow: More Tatsumi!

Books in the 4th Dimension

Is it a book or is it a record? 

Not a question you often come across these days. 

But back in the day, John Winston solved this age-old problem that was plaguing mankind when he created the Magic Talking Book. Rather than including a record with an accompanying book as many children's publishers did back then, he made the book cover itself into a record: plop the volume down on the turntable and spin away!

I found a copy of one of these unusual artifacts at a used book store here "down under" and thought I would share this fun lost technology with you here. 

As the ad copy says, they "add a fourth dimension to books"!

I haven't been able to "test drive" the Chuggity Bus Song on an actual turntable yet, but I'll let you know the results of that experiment when I get home!

Enjoy!

william

The Penguin Parade

For Natalie's last night in Australia, and our final and greatest wildlife adventure of this trip, we drove down the South Gippsland highway past the wineries along the Bass River, on past the famous Woolamai peninsula with its world-class surfing beach, to the small town of Cowes on Phillip Island, and then on to the western side of the island where we visited "The Nobbies" before hunkering down for sunset and the nightly ritual known as the "Penguin Parade".

Waterfront in Cowes

We had been duly warmed to "rug up" as they say down here, in anticipation of the freezing temperatures and antarctic winds common on the island, and so we brought our requisite cold weather gear along with us. As the sign outside the Penguin Parade says "the penguins don't mind the cold, but you might"!!

The Nobbies

But when we got to The Nobbies, the weather was glorious, and we were more concerned with the flocks of aggressive seagulls swarming over our heads that felt like they had spent a bit too much rehearsal time watching Alfred Hitchcock's "The Birds" on dvd, than we were with the gusty wind. 

We didn't see any of the sea lions advertised to make their home on those rocky outcroppings known as nobbies, but Natalie and I ran up and down the wooden walkways that transverse the edge of the island like we were the Wright Brothers attempting our first flight, and afterwards tucked in to a nice hot chocolate at the Nobbies cafeteria.

As dusk approached we made our way to the beach area known as the Penguin Parade. We had been tipped to pay a little bit extra to sit in the bleacher area known as "Penguin Plus", and later on we were glad that we did for the close up views that it afforded us. The guide told us that people had been gathering here informally since the 1920's and that the park and the bleachers had been put up in the 1960's as a way to manage the tourists and make a safe and protected experience for the penguins who live there.

Sitting around patiently waiting for something to happen, freezing, and trying to imagine what all the fuss is about, if I am honest one does experience a moment of doubt about the efficacy of the whole event. After all, the term penguin parade conjures up images of silly creatures dressed up in local costume and marching along to "Waltzing Matilda".

But as the dusk turns to dark and your eyes strain to see the shoreline in front of you, suddenly over the walkie-talkie of the guide we hear faintly "they're in the surf". It is impossible to describe the sublime feeling when you suddenly discern nature's own panorama of fifty or more penguins marching in unison out of the waves and on to the beach and right up over the dune towards you.

Not just the children squealed in delight and pushed forward to get an even closer view from the stands. The penguins gracefully congregate right in front of our bleachers as the three-weeks-at-sea returning fishermen vocally recognize their mates and pair off to make their way to their burrows and a noisy night of conjugal bliss.

6,000 penguins make their home in the sandy hills around the penguin parade. 60,000 or more inhabit the whole coastal area of Phillip Island. Not all of them go out to sea at once of course, but several subsequent waves of incoming penguins made their way up the beach over the course of the next hour or so, and the feeling was almost spiritual as we bore witness to their timeless life cycle.

Although frustrating for blogging purposes, I respected the fact that the park does not allow any photos or videos to be taken (I nicked the one above from the web) as it disturbs the penguins. It somehow made the whole event more pure and solemn: just us and nature.

Of course, the safety measures extended all the way into the parking lot, with a word of caution for our drive home!

All in all, it was a glorious way to end Natalie's stay down under!

william

Snakebit

One of my favorite television shows growing up was "Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom" hosted by the silver haired zoologist Marlin Perkins, chock full of amazing footage and facts about animals. Natalie's two week visit here to Melbourne has brought back memories of that formative program to me, as most of our free time together when I am not working on the movie has been dedicated to experiencing the wild creatures of Australia and learning fun facts about them.

For instance, did you know that the potency of snake venom is rated according to how many mice would be killed by one single bite? The American rattlesnake can kill about 6,000 per bite, the Indian Cobra about 65,000, and one particular snake in Australia, the Inland Taipan, can kill over 500,000 with one bite of its deadly poison.

According to Greg Parker of the Ballarat Wildlife Refuge, and his son Scott, pictured above, the most deadly venomous snakes in the world live in Australia. Greg should know, as he has been personally bitten by several of them. 

Would you pick up a snake known as the Death Adder with your bare hands? I didn't think so. But Greg did, a few years back on a film shoot, and before he could say 'hiss" the adder had fastened itself to his index finger by the fangs.

In Greg's profession, it helps to know the right people, and he told me how he roused his doctor from a show at the Melbourne Opera House and got him on the phone with the local hospital, not to administer the dose of the anti-venom they had prepared, but to NOT administer it, as it turns out that Greg has been bitten and treated so many times that he was more afraid of an adverse reaction to the anti-venom than he was to the snakebite!

Greg says that it took him about a year to ride out the effects of that particular bite, and now he is happy to let his son Scott do most of the snake-handling on the refuge. Gee, thanks, Dad!

Here is a close-up of another creature you've probably heard about but may not have seen, at least not outside of the confines of a Warner Brothers cartoon: Taz, the famous tasmanian devil! If the focus is not perfect, that is because the camera lens is on full zoom, as that is about as close as Natalie and I wanted to get to this superfast animal with razor sharp teeth.

Tasmania is supposed to be wild and beautiful with lots of local flora and fauna of its own to discover. It is about a 12 hour ferry ride from Melbourne, but I doubt that I will make it down there on my off days during the film shoot.

Princess Natalie is flying back home to Los Angeles today with her grandmother, and my Marlin Perkins-like tour of Australia's own Wild Kingdom these last two weeks is sadly over. (Pass me a shot of that anti-venom, Greg!!)

Goodbye, Bwees, we've had a blast, and learned a lot too!

william

A Koala Named Charlie

What is "Aaaaaaaaaaawwwwwwwww"?

The universal sound of someone who sees a Koala bear, of course. They're just so damn cute! Natalie's trip to Australia would not be complete without visiting their most famous native son, and we found the perfect specimen on our visit to the Wildlife Park in Ballarat.

"When Natalie Met Charlie" is the name of this romantic comedy!

More fun facts from our host Greg Parker: the Koala is actually not a bear at all, but a distant relative of the wombat! 

Natalie also met sleepy Patrick the Wombat in his deep earthen tunnel at the park.

After several attempts to reintroduce Patrick into the wild, only to recover him after he had been beaten up by wild wombats, Greg finally convinced the local authorities to let him keep Patrick and care for him at his animal shelter. Bringing him home one day he left Patrick in the back of his car, only to find that the enterprising wombat had climbed into the front seat, shifted the gears, and driven his vehicle right into his neighbor's house! Despite the brouhaha he is clearly capable of causing when he wants to, in our encounter with poor Patrick he was quite lethargic, as we were after a long day in the Australian animal kingdom.

On the way home we encountered one of the huge rainstorms that frequent Southern Australia in this season, but the happy consequence was that Natalie saw 7 near complete rainbows on the long drive home to Melbourne. A perfect day!

So long, Charlie!

william

Some Wonderful (Films) News

LaBute to adapt 'Burnt Orange Heresy'

Filmmaker re-teaming with Horberg on project

By DAVE MCNARY

Neil LaBute will write and direct an adaptation of "The Burnt Orange Heresy," Charles Willeford's crime novel set in the world of modern art, with William Horberg ("The Kite Runner") producing.

Project re-teams LaBute with Horberg after the duo worked on the remake of "Death at a Funeral."

"We had a great experience making 'Death at a Funeral' together for Screen Gems and were looking for something else to do together," Horberg told Daily Variety. "We discovered that we were both big Willeford fans."

Willeford's novel, set in Palm Beach, centers on a corrupt art critic's attempts to finagle an interview with a legendary but reclusive French painter.

Horberg noted that he was an associate producer on "Miami Blues," another Willeford adaptation, bringing the project to Jonathon Demme and George Armitage at the start of his career. He was an exec producer on "Milk" and is currently exec producing "Don't Be Afraid of the Dark" for Miramax.

LaBute's directing credits include "In the Company of Men," "Nurse Betty" and "Lakeview Terrace."

He's repped by ICM.

Joey, Joey, Joey

Few people today probably remember "Joey, Joey, Joey", that beautiful old Frank Loesser song from "Most Happy Fella". 

Natalie was certainly looking at me like I was a bit touched as I kept singing it on our way to visit Greg Parker's amazing Wildlife Park in Ballarat, Victoria to see his collection of Australian kangaroos and their baby joeys which were just coming out of their pouches.

Greg has been collecting reptiles since he was 8 years old and over the years his interest in native animals led him first to photographing them, and then to preserving them, and now he is one of the foremost breeders of kangaroos and wallabys, which he supplies to zoos around Australia and abroad. He's also a great storyteller and a fount of scientific information about the animals he loves, like how you can tell an alpha male joey by his willingness to get up and start boxing the adults as soon as he is old enough to stand.

He shared some of the truly amazing evolutionary facts about kangaroos, like how the female kangaroo, as she ages, will go from having joeys of either sex, to only giving birth to male joeys, since only the males eventually leave their herd and go out to seek another herd, making it easier for the older female roos, who don't have the energy to care for female offspring who would stay at home and need more looking after.

As Greg tells it, the life cycle of the kangaroo is amazing, and more astonishingly, is modified depending on climate conditions. The joey is born after only 30 or 40 days and is extremely tiny. The female licks a path of spittle to the pouch, which the tiny joey must climb along in order to find a secure place there and feed and grow. But in times of severe drought, as an act of self-preservation, the female kangaroo may abort their joeys in the very early stage of development. Typically, the female kangaroo has a second, half-developed joey foetus, that can survive in a state of suspended animation for up to 11 months, and it will find its way to the pouch to grow and develop there if the chances for survival improve. In a world of limited water, a Darwinian mechanism for population control!

Wild!

william

Tomorrow: More tales from Ballarat!

Dandenong: The Rise of Puffing Billy

Nestled in the hills of Fern Gully Forest in the Dandenong Mountains outside of Melbourne, an improbable relic from the Victorian era steams along on narrow gauge tracks of steel, huffing and puffing and with a sudden toot of its whistle announcing to its carloads of families that fill the open window passenger cars that Puffing Billy is on the move once more.

The very definition of a survivor, the line of trains that eventually earned the nickname "Puffing Billy" started service along its 24.5k mountain track from Belgrave to Gembrook and back at the turn of the last century, serving the mountain folk and farmers back then. By the '30's, the narrow gauge track was outmoded, and the train was decommissioned after a massive landslide shut down part of the line in the early 1950's. But when the local newspaper promoted a series of free "farewell" rides to children before putting Billy out to pasture, the train proved so popular that a groundswell of public opinion eventually bought it a new lease on life, and it still operates today as a tourist attraction, almost 110 years after it made its first chug-chug-chugging ride up and down those steep mountain slopes.

Natalie says "All aboard"!!

Over the old wooden trestles of the first bridge, the train lives up to its name with a nice billowing puff of smoke!

Halfway up the mountain, the train pulls into the tiny station at Menzie's Creek for a rest stop, where a timely Chupa Chup lollipop from the station cafe is all the fuel that Natalie needs to make it the rest of the way to Lakeside.

Amazingly, the train is operated by an all-volunteer work force of old-time train lovers, like this man, who clearly enjoyed his daily ritual of walking the train out of the station and standing in a cloud of steam.

Natalie had a blast hanging out with Bailee Madison, the young star of "don't Be Afraid of the Dark", who came along for the excursion. Bailee is a few years older than Natalie, and as with any "big sister", Natalie was determined to keep up with her, including imitating her sitting on the window sill of these open air train cars and dangling her legs over the side! You can bet that Dad had a firm hold on her, but she enjoyed feeling like the big girl on this special day.

Thanks, Puffing Billy!

william

Ronald Searle

Ronald Searle is an illustrator and cartoonist who was born in England. His birthday is one day after mine on March 3, but 39 years before me, in 1920. That makes him 89 years old at present, but his drawings and his wit are timeless.

I found a beautiful edition of one of his books - The Female Approach - a collection of cartoons, down here in a small village outside of Melbourne, and share a few of the ones I liked best with you here. I've kept all the white space on the page in order to preserve his own compositional eye, so scroll down and keep going!

Many of his most famous drawings featured the girls from St.Trinian's School, which was his own source of endless humor, as the first three panels here attest.

But I also like the puddle of tears for the ocularist going out of business.

I'll have to keep an eye out (excuse the pun) for more of Searle's books down here. I suspect as a British humorist he had a wider audience in the commonwealth countries, as I never came across his illustrations back home.

Enjoy!

william horberg

The Third Act

F. Scott Fitzgerald's famous quote "there are no second acts in American lives" hardly seems true today. The country is so lousy with comebacks that it has become more than cliche.

But for those of you struggling with the weightier problem of 3rd acts, here is a handy chart to plot your narrative journey, courtesy of my friend writer Sollace Mitchell who sent it to me.

Take out your sextants to navigate these twists!

The horror film I am working on now - "don't Be Afraid of the Dark" for Miramax - definitely has a taste of the "indian legend ignored" trope in play. Australian actor Jack Thompson plays the local handyman Harris, who has the pleasure of warning our heroes about the murky history of the Victorian mansion they inhabit, unfortunately built in a place of sinkholes and ancient New England burial grounds.

But thankfully we don't dally with the "it was a dream. it wasn't a dream" twist, also common in horror films. It's a hard one to pull off these days post-Sixth Sense!

Enjoy the chart!

william