I am John Wayne is a short film that has been quietly acquiring awards upon awards for the creative story that it tells and the beautifully artistic way that it is shot. The short film has won, the Grand Jury Prize for best narrative at the Hammer and Nail film contest, and it has won a Steiner Studio Award.  The film is literally described as “a lyrical portrait of “Taco” a young black cowboy struggling with the death of his best friend.” The film lends a hand to broadening the perception of young black men. That alone makes it worthy of being featured, but it manages to be more so much man than a statement. The film has an amazing story to tell, and it is all delivered in a way that makes it almost impossible to tear your eyes away from the screen.

I am John Wayne is the brainchild of budding film maker Christina Choe. She began her career as a documentary filmmaker and has screened her short docs “Turmeric Border Marks” & “United Nations of Hip Hop” at numerous film festivals worldwide. She has received funding from New York Foundation for the Arts (NYFA), Brooklyn Arts Council and Canada Arts Council for her projects.

Enjoy Part 1.

I am John Wayne from Christina Choe on Vimeo.

Choe recently received an M.F.A from Columbia University for writing/directing, and is currently in development for her first feature.

 

By: Morgan Collins

“I got washed and dressed before noon on a Saturday, so if I do nothing else for the day, I know I accomplished something.”

 

Today, I patted myself on the back for getting up and dressed before noon on a Saturday, an anomaly for me. No, it’s not the same as getting up early to volunteer with charities benefitting homeless children with rare cases of glandular cancer, but somewhere there’s a trophy with my name on it. “Morgan Collins: Relatively Early Riser.” Back in college, Saturdays were reserved for pajamas and movies. The only physical exercise I did on those days involved digging through the sofa cushions to collect wayward pieces of Apple Jacks. It was my day off. My day of rest, but on the sixth day. Hallelujah, amen.

Now, at 23, there is no rest. My day job as of right now is not my dream job. After the 9-to-5 and on some days the 3-to-11, my real work begins. On Saturdays I have to go back to the drawing board no matter how much I’d like to spend it in an Internet wormhole of Wikipedia pages and Netflix movie marathons. I have resigned myself to the fact that I am getting older and, therefore, must take on more responsibilities. I guess I should have realized this during college, but I went to The University of Florida—everything was just a blur of humidity, football, and dudes in alligator costumes clapping their hands together incessantly.

 

In a way, my life is just one of many random moments on the universe’s ticking timeline. Aren’t all our lives like this, just blips on God’s radar? I suppose wherever I am at in this act of my life won’t change the ending, just how I get to it. But despite the inevitable, death and taxes, I still try to hold on to my idea of youth. Parties and bullshit. Pajamas and cereal. Silly and childish, maybe, but just my way of sticking it to The Man, whoever he may be.