THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Wednesday, November 15, 1995 TAG: 9511150062
SECTION: DAILY BREAK PAGE: E3 EDITION: FINAL
TYPE: Book Review
SOURCE: BY BRITT RENO
LENGTH: Medium: 78 lines
JUST WHEN you've given up believing in miracles, Robert Rodriguez comes along and restores your faith.
In 1992, Rodriguez directed ``El Mariachi,'' the little ``home movie'' that could. Produced for $7,000, it was embraced by Hollywood's deal makers and released nationwide.
Now, Rodriguez turns his hand to writing and tells the story of his unbelievable rise in his book, ``Rebel Without a Crew - Or How a 23-year-old Filmmaker with $7,000 Became a Hollywood Player'' (Dutton, 285 pp., $22.95). It's his daily diary from film idea to release.
Rodriguez spent his youth making videos and watching movies. A self-taught talent, he entered the University of Texas' film program and began winning festival awards while his peers were just learning the basics. And he had a plan. He would make three films for the Spanish video market, learning by trial and error. Little did he realize that Hollywood would be ready for him after just one.
In true rags-to-riches fashion, Rodriguez started off penniless. To finance ``El Mariachi,'' he enrolled as a ``human lab rat'' in a monthlong study that paid $3,000. In diary entries reminiscent of ``One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest,'' Rodriguez describes the quirky characters and events in ``The Hole,'' or research lab. The human guinea pigs, wearing color-coded T-shirts, are constantly poked and analyzed - giving blood and feces on demand.
While at the lab, Rodriguez met one of his lead actors for ``El Mariachi,'' fellow patient Peter Marquardt - a cross among actors Rutger Hauer, Christopher Walken and James Spader in Rodriguez's eyes. With plenty of time on his hands, Rodriquez bangs out the script for ``El Mariachi.''
Through his good friend, lead actor and collaborator Carlos Gallardo, Rodriguez gains access to a little town in Mexico where he can shoot in the streets. He even has the full cooperation of the local police, who allow him to use the town jail (one prisoner escapes during the shooting) and their guns in his film. A one-take-wonder, he wastes no film and finishes shooting in two weeks.
A grueling editing schedule follows production. Rodriguez painstakingly syncs up the dialogue line by line. He routinely works through the night in a cable-access editing room, cutting every corner to save money, even recording the narration in his car.
Exhausted and broke, Rodriguez heads to Los Angeles with video in hand, and the games begin. He is jerked around by the Spanish video people and nearly signs away the film's rights for a song. But serendipity and persistence land ``El Mariachi'' in the hands of a big-time agent who makes Rodriguez the talk of the town. Soon studios are fighting to snap him up as if he were the last Armani suit on Rodeo Drive. All Rodriguez has to do is sit back and watch the offers roll in.
And why not? If ever anyone deserved a break, it's Rodriguez. He's down-to-earth, likable and funny. He has a refreshing no-nonsense angle on Hollywood - the outsider's perspective from the inside - and exposes its waste and incompetence. ``You have to do everything yourself in this town,'' he bemoans. And he does.
Throughout the whole experience, Rodriguez remains one of us, an average guy. He meticulously names the stars he sees at every opening, every Hollywood restaurant, and records them in his diary like an autograph hound. The sudden success doesn't go to his head. He humbly predicts, ``It's all downhill from here on out.''
Hardly.
``Desperado,'' the sequel to ``El Mariachi'' (produced at 1,000 times the cost), is in theaters starring hunky Antonio Banderas.
Rodriguez encourages other filmmakers to ``go for it'' and follow his example.
He certainly makes it look easy enough. Although ``Rebel Without a Crew'' contains its share of filmic insider terms, it's really for all of the dreamers out there. More than anything, it's a Cinderella story. And everyone enjoys a good fairy tale. MEMO: Britt Reno is a photographer and film editor who lives in Alexandria.
by CNB