John Anthony

Actor. Filmmaker. Alien

Wade Wofford, Director, Writer and Producer of the upcoming feature “The Answer”

“Much like the adage that "you make a film three times: writing the script, shooting it, and editing," I find that working with actors is very similar; you work with them in a very different way in all three parts of the filmmaking process.  Most actors, in my experience, do not shine across all three...  John Anthony, on the other hand, proves a pleasure through each stage of the process. His intentness on understanding relationships and willingness to build character history enriches beyond the script in preproduction. During production, his sense of humor, willingness to work his ass off, and "turn it on" on demand were assets to shooting swiftly and efficiently. And during post, his consistency and strong choices shine through; movements made on specific lines from wide to close make the editor's task able to focus on quality rather than tedious technicalities. A true pro, and craftsman at his art.”



Filtering by Category: Immortality

The Warm Machine, (And): Resolved to no Resolution.

"I memorize the basics, making strange faces, tread slowly for I know, there's a thousand miles to go, without blinking..."

If you not only know, but can relate the rest of these lyrics to your own sensibility, I applaud your poetic veracity.  If you don't know, well, you just don't know and I am still in good company cause what the hell do I know, right?  We are all just out here, arms stretched out; feeling the darkness for something solid.  Do you believe that?  I don't.  

Happy New Year by the way!  In a week I feel like that can't be said cause I already see the new year lull washing over the faces of my fellow NYC'ers.  The post holiday potentially suicidal cliffs that are January, February and March looming ahead.  The wickedness of these months can leave you straight up trying to Netflix and Chill every night if you aren't really truly steadfast in those wonderful resolutions you all have made!  You know them.  More gym!  Less cheese!  "I swear bih, no more procrastinating...word life!"  "Fuck him girl, I'm not seeing him no more!"  (Sing with me..HHMmmm...oh my God, stop fucking lying!!!) 

The aforementioned lyrics came back into my life recently during a wonderful little road trip I took a couple days ago with my partner in life and crime, heading out to visit some really great friends who were recently wed and are expecting their first child.  During the drive, I was transported back into time through music I haven't heard in a very long time. Music that I discovered in heights of creative exploration that I use to find such ferocious light in.  And somewhere between "Letting The Cables Sleep" and "The Warmth" it dawned on me.

I've become way too cautious.  That was the what.  Which then led me to the why. 

It wasn't an AH-HA! moment.  It was more like standing on the shore and a soft wave washes over your sand covered feet and once the wave is pulled back, some of the sand is washed away. The water returns, washes over your feet and takes a bit more off. And so on.  Shit was made so clear, song after song.  Now, I could of been like "Yes!" that's it, I've got it.  From now on I will....yadadadada, blah blah blah..and exclaim to the Gods and Goddesses what I will and will not do from now on...but chill son. I've fallen for that before.  It always ends up...well, it always just ends. Prematurely. With no true resolve to the source of the problem.  Old habits prevailing.

In this case, it was a new habit that I became aware of as the hindrance.  I unearthed the source. The root. Thanks to following through with a promise I made.  Thanks to just picking up and going. Thanks to not over-thinking.  It wasn't by chance, blindfolded dunking my head into a vat, bobbing (no homo, not that there is anything wrong with that! Seinfeld!) for hopes and dreams. It was a choice.  

When the lights are shut off, our eyes adjusts to the new lack of sight.  On top of that, all of our other senses are immediately heightened.  Ears become small satellites, the hairs on our skin become like micro hands, the part of our brain that is responsible for smell fires up like a firefly under a contour scan, even the levels of saliva increase on the tongue to increase the ability to "taste the air".  I won't even get into the sixth sense.  When we really want something,  when it's life and death,  we will do absolutely anything to reach our refuge.  Hugh Glass did it, with one leg.  Let it be life and death.  All of it.  Our goals are worth it.  We already had everything we needed to resolve our short comings before the bell tolled 12:00am on January the 1st day of 2016.  There are a thousand miles to go.  I am not blinking.  


Smile Harder.

Autumn Leaves…

Or better yet it comes.  Rolling in like a GOD damn tsunami.  Prepared or not.  Seasons do change.  Forgive me Lord for taking your namesake in vain, but these veins running the metropolis of my biological city carries the reasons why I do and do not want those Fall leaves to fall.  The reasons seem to never truly change cause change is the hardest thing in the world.  Don't make a promise to do such if you know you are still holding on, trying not to autumn off.  

What the fuck are you holding onto though is the ponderment while I'm wondering, looking at you questioning the laws that govern the direction that you are moving in.  Thinking in. Or not.  Systematically stagnant.  

Montepulciano minded.  

Stunted by blunting.  

Renewed visions by noose asphyxiation.  Why does it take damn near dying to alter missed-conceptions? On the eve's eve of my born date, it's a cool 68 degrees in the NYC and I'm a bit layered up.  Entering GOD's hour, ready to shed these extra layers if need be.  Feel me?

Smile Harder.

40 Days and 40 Nights and then some...

What does it mean when you go back to something you had written eons ago and yet you find yourself still at that same shore...

-Excerpt: (c. a while back)

"Standing on the bank of me realizing I'm wasting time by the river.  Contemplating over the reflection in the water and thinking what am I actually thinking about...

Past things.  Memories bleeding out the veins in my brain hoping to GOD the last drop comes quick.  Looking for the bliss in the madness and only coming to the corridor of sadness and I know I have to go on.  It's not in my nature to relax or chill when nothing will do except me doing me yet how is that possible when I can't find myself without you..."

It means there is still water to wade.  There is still heavy breathing ahead.  There is still tears and blood to shed.  Then, after all that. Then...

There is the still.

Smile Harder.