doug richardson

food-chain

Behind the Lines with DR: The Hollywood Food Chain

An old pal—let’s call him Hal—once told me the story of his first cool Hollywood car. It was over margaritas, chips, and a big bowl of killer homemade guacamole. Mine, to be honest. The recipe is a secret and if I told you I’d have to kill you. But my pal’s super bitchin’ show-off...

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Behind the Lines with DR: Only in L.A.

Much of working in showbiz is about living and existing in showbiz. Or amongst it without allowing its corrupting essence to sink beyond one’s initial layer of skin. And believe me when I say there’s no SPF rated lotion that can fully defend anybody from the blitzkrieg of Hollywood’s lights. Now, despite having been...

Curiosity

Behind the Lines with DR: Curiosity and the Kill

“What’s your name?” I asked the wannabe screenwriter. “Gerald,” answered the wannabe, shaking my hand. Okay, so his name wasn’t Gerald. I’ve only named him that for this post because he may read this and discover an embarrassed tingle over having been selected to star in this blog. So if you’re reading this, Gerald,...

The Tamale Principle

Behind the Lines with DR: The Tamale Principle

The Tamale Principle… A simple axiom. When faced with a choice between the unfamiliar and the familiar, most people will choose the latter. At least, thus was the theory posited by my old man when describing one of the quandaries of a democracy. Hang with me here if you want to know how this...

are you a writer

Behind the Lines with DR: When Are You a Writer?

A Twitter pal asked me this question: When can I call myself a writer? My answer was pretty simple, though I qualified it as one man’s opinion. You are what you say you are when you make a living at it. We traded a few more tweets, which were mostly me clarifying my point...

determination

Behind the Lines With DR: Determination

“What can we do for you today?” “Thanks,” I said. “Need a couple of iPhone 5s for Christmas gifts.” It was ten a.m. straight up. The Verizon store had just opened for the day. And there was no coincidence to the timing. My plan was to get in and out before the store was...

film school

Behind the Lines with DR: Film School

I’d utterly failed at my first attempt at getting in to the famed USC film school. Upon reflection, it was a horrible application—all kiss ass, full of ignorant naiveté, and grossly immature. Had I been in charge of admittance, I sure as hell wouldn’t have accepted me. Foolishly, though, the university later accepted me...