Endeavor Cinema Group

The Endeavor Cinema Group, based in Fort Worth, has been around several years but has recently seen a rebirth.

Board member Vicki White explained the beginnings of the group that started with founder Carlos Aguilar.

“It was started several years ago,” she said. “He started out highlighting independent film artists. He picked it back up last year with a board and advisory group. “It’s a platform for artists just staring out.”

White explained that the group not only features the work of those just starting out, but also offers education programs, writing workshops and other events to further the skills and opportunities of those wanting to make their living in movies.

She said the whole vision is to put people together – sound people, writers, camera people, actors, directors, producers – to offer the connections to help with education and careers.

“For me, I’m a playwright,” said Chuck Latham, a registered nurse and a member of the board. “I have a number of plays that are Christian. When I heard about this, I wanted to be a part of it. I had all these plays in my head. There’s no place out there for people like me.”

He said it is not only a place to receive encouragement, but also a place to give back.

“It’s for the community,” Latham said of the organization. “We hope talented people can see this as an opportunity to give back to the community.”

I am a long-time musician and I have written and directed a lot of shorts,” said Aguilar. “My passion has always been film.”

He said part of the impetus for the group he founded was because he had never had the opportunity to pursue his passion for film.

“It’s actually been my passion for about 10 years to bring the community together,” he added. “Something to organize every facet, to create – set design, photography, digital photos …”

To showcase the work of those involved in the program, ECG held a screening in Fort Worth to highlight the creativity of three directors – Dennis O’Neill, Aaron Kirk and Jason Baumgardner.

O’Neill showed his latest venture, “Bail Out,” while Kirk screened “Night Job” and Baumgardner presented “The League.”

“Bail Out” was filmed in Mineral Wells, Cool and Fort Worth, using local talent and some who better known for their acting skills.

The proposed television series follows New York detective Jimmy O’Neill to Fort Worth after he gets cross wise with the mob and his bosses. There his uncle asks him take over the bail bond company. But he calls his long-time partner, played by veteran actor Terry Kiser, to come to Texas with him. Together they begin private investigations.

“Night Job” is about a man who sees too much pain and suffering and wants to fight crime – on his terms.

“It started out I wanted to write about a man who wanted to fight crime, wanted to do it on his own,” said Kirk. “The main character works in ER, he wants to try to get out there and counter it.”

But he needed a mentor, someone who knew the ropes.

“Dennis’ (O’Neill) character’s daughter was attacked,” he said, adding that the main character learns, they find criminals and “take care of business.”

“The League” is a different story – one about fantasy football.

Baumgardner explained that the main character enjoys fantasy football but ends up getting involved for a $1 million gamble. He’s short on money, his wife is expecting but the main difficulty was watching his father lose his fortune during the crash of the ’80s and finally gambling in Atlantic City.

“We’ve had good support on YouTube,” said Baumgardner, adding that there are about 24 episodes.

O’Neill plays the father.

“He’s an ex-stockbroker with a gambling problem,” said O’Neill. “There’s danger he doesn’t know about.”

And O’Neill has another project working. He has a role on the USA network’s series “In Plain Sight.”

“I go back to New Mexico March 22nd for more fiming,” he said. “I’m hoping it’s more than one episode.”

“It’s a passion, I have a passion for the arts,” Aguilar said.

Bail Out

A tough, gritty New York cop gets crosswise with the mob and his superiors and leaves the Big Apple, ending up in Fort Worth.

“Jimmy O’Neill leaves New York,” said Dennis O’Neill, director, writer and actor in the proposed television series “Bail Out.” “He lost his girl, is having problems with the (police) department and hits a mob guy who is on the city council.”

Thus is the premise of “Bail Out,” a production of O’Neill, that was filmed with people from Mineral Wells, Millsap, Fort Worth and members of the acting class he teaches in Fort Worth.

“Originally we did a class project – it just took off from there,” O’Neill said, noting that it wasn’t long until it became a serious project.

“We had 22 people involved, it came down to five of us,” he added.

Those five are Pattie Walters Hart, a producer from Cool and daughter-in-law of Precinct 5 Justice of the Peace Bobby Hart; Dana Brumley, producer; Julie Hutt, assistant director; David Pinkston, direction of photography; and O’Neill, the primary writer, director and star of the series.

He said they had the character and the story, but it would change numerous times.

“I really didn’t know where I wanted the character to go,” he said of the initial development of the story.

But as his team put together more and more ideas, he began to see an outline for the program.

As the main character developed, played by O’Neill, it became more and more like someone he knew – O’Neill’s brother, Jimmy, who died four years ago.

“No one on the team knows my family,” he said.

The trailer for the show has humor and action with real people.

“Some of the things in ‘Bail Out’ really happened,” O’Neill said.

He reflected that, when he first arrived in Texas, he went to a grocery store where the clerk asked, “How y’all doin’?”

“Why?” he said he answered, cautious because no one in New York ever asked such a question unless they were looking to create a problem.

“‘Just thought I’d ask,’” he said the clerk answered.

“I was really suspicious, I really didn’t get it,” O’Neill added.

“One thing we all agreed on, we didn’t want him coming from New York not liking Texas,” Hart said of the character. “We wanted him to fall in love with Texas.”

Of the people portrayed, there are no exaggerated drawls or mannerisms.

“We wanted them to be just the way they are,” she said.

Locally, Judge Bobby Hart plays – a judge. The trailer has him in his courtroom in the Poston Building in Mineral Wells. There were also scenes shot at the Mineral Wells Police Department, Holiday Inn Express, Nancy’s Italian Texan Grill and locations in Cool and Millsap.

Other local talent included Lucas Mitchell and Doug Hart, son of Bobby Hart.

Co-starring with O’Neill is Terry Kiser, perhaps best known for his role as the deceased Bernie in the movie “Weekend at Bernie’s.”

The music for the show, “Southern Lullaby,” was written by Caleb Williams and performed by his band, Noltey. Williams, who graduated from Santo, is a cousin of Pattie Hart.

“What we needed was a song,” said O’Neill, adding that Hart suggested her cousin who he thought was someone who just thought they could sing.

“She lent me his CD,” he continued. “Two weeks later I listened to the CD. ‘Oh my gosh, she really has a cousin who sings.’”

Hart said she called Williams and explained in a few words what they were looking for – something that was closer to talk, but not, and not rap.

Two weeks later she brought the recording, “Southern Lullaby.”

“She just came to the school with the CD,” said O’Neill. “When I played it, I could not have written a better song.”

O’Neill and Hart continue to try to market it as either a TV series or made-for-television movie.

“We have a possible investor,” he said. “He wants to help us raise money for a movie or six episodes. We’re pitching it everyday.”

And part of that sales pitch is showing the trailer whenever possible. O’Neill said it will be shown at 6:30 p.m. Sunday, March 14, at Four Day Weekend Theater, 312 Houston St., in Fort Worth. In addition, “Bail Out” has Facebook and YouTube sites.

The series tag line, “Everybody has a story,” certainly applies, both to the proposed series and the people making it a reality.

Blood Spirit

"Blood Spirt" went to the publisher today. The short version, so to speak:

Texas was at a pivotal point in 1871. Texans had long sought relief from the devastating raids of Kiowas and Comanches and suffered from cattle rustlers, killers and thieves. It would take the near death of Gen. William Tecumseh Sherman for the Army to answer the call for protection.

Buck Landers, a veteran of the Civil War, settled in Texas in 1865 and earned a reputation as a gunfighter. But he married and settled down to raise a family and make his fortune as a cattleman, hoping never more to use his gun. But the unsettled frontier and his sense of right would play a role in his future.

His sense of right and wrong, his desire for justice and the protection of those without shelter leads him down a trail of danger, one that could mean his death.

The story centers around the astonishing history of 1871 Texas, a time when those who dared faced great hardships. There were fortunes to be made, but the price for many was death.

Well past 'over the hill'

As I have reached an age well beyond any I had ever imagined, it occurs to me there’s a lot no one bothered to share when I was younger - or if they did, my memory has fulfilled the first prophecy.

I do remember people I worked with saying, “The mind is the first thing to go.”

I didn’t believe it then, still don’t. I forgot what they said was second.

But, just in case, the other phrase I hear often is, “He can remember 20 years ago, but he can’t remember what he had for breakfast.”

Got that one covered. I don’t eat breakfast. If someone asks what I had, I say, with conviction, “Didn’t eat breakfast.”

At least that way there is some room for doubt in their minds.

They never talked about gravity’s effect either. Not in family discussions, not in grade school and not in science class when the teacher would talk about how we managed to stay connected to the ground. Nope, no one mentioned that it also pulled on body parts. They never mentioned that as I got older I would need to buy smaller shirts and larger pants, nor did they mention that those smaller shirts needed larger collars.

And in those days, technology was related to some university filled with scientists studying no telling what. Television was the greatest thing since sliced bread - if a person could afford to buy one. At midnight, might as well go to bed - TV was over until the next morning, unless one was fascinated by the test pattern that was on all night. Never understood what they were testing for - seemed OK to me. Anyone else remember the playing of the “National Anthem” as the last thing?

That was more than 20 years ago, still didn’t eat breakfast.

Nope, they didn’t talk about technological advances back then or that first graders would know more about computers and such than most of the older population. Hate watching “Are You Smarter Than a Fifth Grader?”

Within the last year or so, these university scientists - or whomever - came out with a thing called a Blue Tooth. The first thought was, who the heck wants a blue tooth? I paid too dang much for the white ones. And I got them in Mexico. Heard of a gold tooth, had even seen them. But a blue tooth?

I watched the smiles of total strangers - nothing. Saw some blue hair now and then, but no blue tooth.

Then, come to find out, it’s something to stick in the ear. Do what? So I asked a first grader and found out it was for cell phones. As technology advances, I wonder what other body parts scientists will use to name a new device. What concerns me more is where they expect people to stick them.

And no one talked about the day a person wakes up and discovers someone “over the hill” is too young. When I was in my 20s and 30s, there was a lot of laughter about folks who were “over the hill.” But no one mentioned that when I hit that particular landmark it wouldn’t be that funny. After all, for the first 39 years of my life, “over the hill” meant too old to cut the mustard.

“Life begins at 40” many people said. Once there, I found out suddenly I was looked at with a different perspective. The grandkids thought I was an old man as the hair began to thin - a little here, a little there, the effects of gravity began to take hold and the hair color - at least what was still there - began to change.

Life began, alright. What they left off was “Life begins (to change) at 40.”

No, I’m not too old to cut the mustard, but, in the words of Jerry Reed, I’m too tired to spread it around.

'Aught-nine'

Aught-nine – what a year.

I remember my grandparents and other older folks talking about the “aughts.”

“As I recall, Uncle George went to prison in aught-seven,” someone would say.

Of course, that was only for family consumption, the family’s black sheep were not discussed in public. Friends already knew it, but they were polite enough not to mention it and strangers had their own problems to worry about.

“Bill, remember that big ole catfish that dang near done in ole Charlie? Was that in aught-eight or aught-nine?”

“Leroy, you knowed that was aught-seven. Remember? That was the year you dang near shot me when we was out coon huntin’ that time. Them dawgs was after that one big ole he-coon and you rightly swore it was yourn. Dang near took my ear off, you did.”

“Oh yeah, I remember now. What’d they pay you for that skin, anyway?”

“Dang near nothin’. By the time I got to it, them dogs had it darn near tore in half. And it was your dog did it.”

Well, aught-nine will be a year to remember some 40 or 50 years from now as old timers talk about what an unsettling and historic year it was.

“Hey, Betty, I see on my porta-puter your uncle is still registered as a sex offender. How long’s it been now?”

“Henry, that had to, uh, been back in aught-nine or so, long time ago.”

“Was that the year we lost the house and traded that ole clunker for a new one?”

“Yes, dear. That was the same year they shipped everyone off to Afghanistan, remember?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Here ya go. Take your nutrition pill. This one is lettuce and tomato salad.”

“Dang. I was hopin’ for the steak one.”

“Now, remember you had that last week and red meat pills can only be served once a quarter. Government regulations, ya know, we gotta stay healthy. We can only see the doctor once every six months.”

“Wasn’t that aught-nine, too?”

“Yes dear, that was the year the government changed the rules. Heck, you should remember, you voted for it.”

Rick Jackson

He grew up in Jack County, as a country boy who rode horses and worked with cattle.

In 1980, Rick Jackson began working in bronze and the one-time oil field worker has parlayed his love of the west into one of the most recognized western sculptors in the country.

“I grew up north of Jacksboro, in the Squaw Mountain area,” he says from his home in Mineral Wells.

Jackson graduated from Jacksboro High School in 1967 and drove trucks for oil companies. In 1980, he wanted to make gifts for his friends and it started his career in art.

“It was sort of an accident,” he says.

There was a foundry near Springtown where he stopped in and inquired as to what it would take.

“My first piece was Old Buck. I sculpted on it for a year. I cast three or four and gave them as gifts.

“Then I did an Indian.”

A friend of his suggested it was good enough to send to the Texas Art Gallery in Dallas.

“They might handle your work he told me,” Jackson recalls.

He says that a couple of weeks after he sent the piece he worked up the courage to call the gallery to see if they were interested in carrying his work.

“The girl said, ‘If there’s anything to do for a living besides sculpting, you ought to do it,’” he says of her response.

Jackson says it bothered him and it gave him the incentive to stick with it and improve his work.

“In 10 years she called a friend of mine who told me she was interested in carrying my work,” he recalls with a smile. “I told him I didn’t have time to put anything in galleries.”

Up until 1990, his target was horse and cattle people. But that year he married Judy and his focus shifted to other areas of sculpting – more artistic. Which resulted in being invited to more shows.

“Nearly al my commission work is non-western,” he says.

He recently completed a tiger for Jacksboro High School and has also done work for the city of Abilene and pieces for a college and religious sculptures for the Lovers Lane Methodist Church in Dallas.

But his first love was and remains western art.

“That’s what I’m known for – western art,” he says.

“I’ve been real lucky – at the right place at the right time,” he reflects. “There’s probably no such thing as one big break. It’s all those little breaks along the way.

“One day you figure out maybe people know who you are,” he adds. “I’ve made a lot of good friends in 30 years of this.”

Jackson can be reached at 940-325-6355, 940-682-1272 or e-mail ricksart@sbcglobal.com.

Eye opener

My wife and I were fortunate enough to be invited as extras for the film “The Legend of Hell’s Gate: An American Conspiracy” in Granbury Sunday.

It was an eye-opening experience to say the least.

First, one sometimes hears about the arrogance of those in the movie business. I can’t speak about others, but this group of people, from the producers, directors, cast, crew, extras – everyone – was extremely nice at all times. They treated everyone with friendliness, courtesy and professionalism. It didn’t matter that we were there only for one day, it didn’t matter that we weren’t professional actors, just a couple of locals that were invited to join. It made an extremely long day much more bearable.

We arrived at 8 a.m. and waited and waited and waited. Finally we were sent to wardrobe where we waited and waited and waited. Once it was our turn, it only took a few minutes as those handing out costumes knew where everything was and what was needed.

From there, we headed to the set. There were minutes of filming followed by hours of waiting for our next scene. It wasn’t that the crew was disorganized, it was that it took so much time to set up shots – lights, reflectors, the director’s instructions, a rehearsal or two, adjustments – getting everything just right.

Then there would be more than one take and everyone went back to the start and did it all again – perhaps three or four times. A lot like taking photos for the newspaper – an insurance shot to make sure they got the right angles and the best action.

But perhaps the most amazing thing about the day was the fact that the scenes were not shot in the same sequence they would likely be shown on the screen. A piece here, another there, then go back and do another scene. It changes one’s perspective on what it takes to make a movie and the reason they are so expensive.

Tanner Beard, who wrote the script, has a role in and directs the movie, never raised his voice and never lost his cool while all around him there appeared to be chaos as assistant directors called for this scene or that or went to prepare for the next one.

Next will come the editing. The music, sound and putting the pieces into a cohesive and complete motion picture. That will take several months.

It was interesting, it was in many ways a lot of fun, but it was a 10-plus hour day. My wife and I had been on our feet almost all day – we hurt, we had trouble walking and we still had to return home. As for the cast and crew, they only had to drive to the local motels – but they had to plan for the following day and there would be another 14-hour day, and another and another.

It gives a whole new perspective to actors and crew members who spend their lives making movies. I came away with a whole new respect for those who entertain us.