The Brothers McMullen

Edward Burns used to be my favorite director. Funny, that.

I was 21 when I started admitting that I wanted to write scripts, and Edward Burns was the first director with whom I really identified. His films were preoccupied with romance from a male perspective and all the insecurities and questions that ride along. At 21, that was pretty much all I thought about all day, every day.

As such, Burns seemed more "grown up" than his contemporaries — say, Kevin Smith or Quentin Tarantino, who were too busy dropping F-bombs, telling dick jokes, cutting off ears, and shooting people in the face. That's not to say those two guys didn't raise good questions or explore interesting characters, but mostly I just saw films like Clerks and Pulp Fiction as great entertainment or whatever, and not really the kinds of films I wanted to write. Burns made films about people who could be right next door (well, if I lived in New York), and I thought those people were fascinating.

Burns' first three films — his "Long Island Trilogy" — were everything I wanted to do even then: quiet, simple character pieces that were both honest and rough around the edges. My favorite of the three is the one I haven't mentioned yet: No Looking Back, which I don't own on DVD. That one's been out of print for years, and though I can rationalize paying out the nose for other movies, for some reason I could never pull the trigger on this one. (Edit: I'm on eBay right now, bidding on a copy.)

I remember going to Borders and finding the published versions of Burns' first three scripts. They were the first scripts I read. My first screenplay is, at least in part, painfully derivative of Edward Burns, except without all the Irish Catholic preoccupations.

I figured a little film would be the best way for me to get something done. I still feel that way, though the indie film landscape has changed so much, I've probably missed the window. With no money, anything I do now would have to be HD, using school equipment, and edited on my Mac. That's more than what Burns had to work with, so I have no excuse.

I'd never even heard of The Brothers McMullen until after I saw She's the One in the theater, which I would've missed completely if not for the excellent soundtrack by Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers. Burns made The Brothers McMullen on a shoestring budget of about $25,000 according to his commentary track.

Burns shot on 16mm, didn't pay the actors or crew, shot when he had days off from working at "Entertainment Tonight," and somehow got this thing in the can in an 8 month period. Besides Burns, the only actor you'll recognize is Connie Britton, making her debut here. She went on to a pretty successful film and television career, most notably "Friday Night Lights," a favorite here at Chez John.

Burns' commentary track is inspiring. He tells about how the film was shot in his childhood home on Long Island, using available light (mostly), and points out continuity errors that I'm not even noticing. They had no permits, no product placement, and did stuff like use actual dinner leftovers as prop dinner leftovers. He had incredibly thorough shot lists, which he used to conserve film stock. He cast himself in the lead role and his girlfriend in the supporting role, because he knew he and his girlfriend would show up for no money. He used his dad's car. He did everything he could to make this film for as little money as possible because he really wanted to make this film; he had this singular vision and was willing to go all guerrilla and get this done. All told, this film was shot in about 8 days, spread out over 8 months.

I think somewhere along the way, I forgot about the passion, the singular vision. I used to be convinced that I could do something like this. All I had to do was get everything together. I don't know what happened. I lost the map, took my eye off the ball, and other applicable cliches. I'm still convinced. I just need a film like this to remind me of the possibilities and kick me in the ass every now and then.

Anyway, I was about 21 when I saw The Brothers McMullen on VHS. I'm not sure what I was expecting. What I got was a cheap looking, poorly lit, sometimes out of focus, craptastic sounding, great little character piece that made me want to make movies.

I still like this film, rough as it is, because, well, if this film could win the Grand Jury Prize at Sundance, then hell, my friends and I could do that, right? We never did.





But I'm not dead yet.