Guerilla Filmmaking, or Filmmaking Gorilla?

Life can be really unfair sometimes.

Before I get into this, let me warn you that this post is only tangentially Closet Space related....if you are here just for news on the movie, here's the Cliff Notes version: things are fine, we have one or two more weekends of pickups left, and then we are done with principal photography. I am already editing footage together, and it looks stellar. The movie is going to be awesome.

Anyway, today I'm really focused on something else. This morning I was informed that my best friend's father passed away last night.

Now, I'm not the emotional type. Anyone that knows me can attest to that fact. I've even been accused of acute sociopathy on numerous occasions. But this is affecting me a little more than usual...for a number of reasons.

First of all, this man (and his wife) are probably the closest thing to what I'd call my godparents...assuming I believed in God. Those that know me know how virtually worthless my birth parents have been throughout my entire life. The Baragans were seemingly always there to fill that gulf. When we were kids, and I wasn't able to hang out, go anywhere, or do anything because my parents didn't want to drive me anywhere, the Baragans came all the way across town to give me a ride. Usually to Astroworld (and once I started driving myself, I discovered how literally out of their way they were going for me) so that Domingo and I could strike out with girls on a regular basis.

Domingo and I kind of drifted apart for a couple of years at the end of high school, but on the couple of occasions I was around, his parents were among the only people to actually congratulate me and tell me how proud they were of my accomplishments. Background on that: I did some stuff that enabled me to get a full ride to UT, plus numerous other scholarships as well. My birth parents never ONCE said anything even remotely scraping praise. The most I got out of my father was disappointment at the fact that I didn't get a football scholarship. Anyway, aside from a few teachers (who I will also be thanking in my Oscar acceptance speech), the Baragans were the only people there for me.

Fast forward to the present time, and the aforementioned movie connection. Just for a little context, my parents and immediate family have never ever seen anything that I've done. No movie screenings, no live shows with bands, nothing. And it's not because they weren't invited (at least until I stopped wasting my time inviting them). Not only did the Baragan family show up at just about every screening; upon my finishing and screening Witchcraft 13, the Baragans believed in me enough to finance a great deal of my follow-up project, which of course you know as Closet Space. I will forever be thankful for that...because once again, they were the first people to come up and actually tell me that they were proud of me. And then they gave me the means to go really nuts with this movie. Throughout all those conversations and interactions, what touches me most to this day is the fact that they would always refer to me as "son". And I feel like they really meant it.

So I spent a lot of the day thinking about all those things and occasionally tearing up because the world totally sucks sometimes. Good people leave us way too soon, it seems.

With all that said, I extend my heartfelt thanks to Domingo Baragan II for being there when I needed him, and most of all believing in me. On behalf of the cast and crew, we dedicate Closet Space in your honor.

Rest in peace,
Mel
(Your third son)