Even though ticket prices for the cheapest seats are lower for Dead & Company than your average concert, the prices are still considerably high. Ticketmaster is offered as an only option (with outrageous fees and surcharges), and like so much else in America, the less money you make/have to spend, the more you are penalized, marginalized and physically and statistically separated from those with more money than you. Growing up, I could pay $12.50 and get a seat in the first row. Or the twentieth row! …Or the last. All that was required of me was that I wanted to hear the music and had a desire to partake. It wasn’t an experience just for the rich and well-off. And we all sat together, intermingled, rich and poor, young and old. It was a communal experience that celebrated what we had in common, not accentuated what separated us. We weren’t isolated into roped-off sections, divergent tiers based on income. The only difference, perhaps, were those who camped out overnight for tickets (pre-internet) and those who bought them later. But that wasn’t class separation. What we have here and now is just a reflection of the attitudes and gross disparity our country has come to not only represent, but in some circles celebrate.
Linds Redding died of inoperable espohageal cancer. He was an art director who worked at BBDO and Saatchi & Saatchi. Linds kept a blog and one of the last pieces he wrote before he died, “A Short Lesson in Perspective,” explores his final frame of mind on the ad business and how many of us choose to live our lives and approach our art. It is a devastating and scathing piece. And desperately worth the read, I think.
With over 20 years under my belt in the commercial casting business, I’ve worked a lot with the folks from BBDO and Saatchi & Saatchi. May have even worked with Linds. I think what he discovered at the end of his life is considerable and noteworthy. Particularly while living in any Capitalist society. Not that Capitalism is all bad, but it does promote a state of mind that can be –how shall I say this — a tad misleading. Our goals and definitions of success are oftentimes out of sync with the greater elements and offerings of the human experience. It’s one of the main reasons I have such a hard time with the Hollywood mindset surrounding film and filmmaking. I think it almost entirely misses the point. At the same time, it has its own alluring gravitational pull that is hard to break free of. Lord knows I’m still struggling with it.
I always thought the writing on THE WALKING DEAD was terribly inconsistent. Sometimes downright awful. But I love the zombie genre (saw NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD in a movie theater at age 9 and it has been burned into my psyche ever since), and if there are some good visceral moments now and again, I find myself drawn back. In fact, I’d even go so far as to say that the writing on THE WALKING DEAD improved in the last two seasons, it felt more consistent, more organic.
So when I read that there’d be a spinoff series, I hoped that the writers, creators and anyone else involved with the series had evolved in their storytelling sensibilities to offer something interesting, maybe even slightly provocative or, god-forbid, original. Instead, what I found was an hour of the kind of silly character reactions and scenarios I would expect from network TV at its most benign. Why is this?