Sean Paul Murphy, Writer

Sean Paul Murphy, Writer
Sean Paul Murphy, Storyteller

Friday, May 12, 2023

In Memoriam: Barry Moore


I was very sad to hear Professor Barry Moore had died.

Barry was the head of the Film Department when I was a student at Towson State College -- now Towson University.

Actually, Barry wasn't the head of the Film Department. Technically, there wasn't a Film Department. It started as a concentration within the Mass Communications Department. I was a Mass Comm major. I started out with a concentration in Journalism, but, after finding out how little money a journalist made back in the day, I switched to Film. I didn't think the economic prospects of a film student were anymore promising, but I correctly thought I would have more fun.

That's when I first met Dr. Barry Moore.

He didn't like me.

I'm not kidding. He didn't like me.

Sometimes I would try to convince myself that he really did like me, but that he was just being a curmudgeon. That was partly true. He could be a curmudgeon at times, but I am willing to concede that he really didn't like me.

I'm not sure why. Perhaps Barry heard I was in Amway. That was certainly enough to scare anyone off. Or perhaps it was because I had no discernable appreciation of post-war European independent cinema. Or maybe it was because I was simply a goofball. Doesn't matter. Barry couldn't escape me. We were a small group hidden away in a small building with a limited amount of space and equipment. We were constantly bumping up against each other, like it or not.

I didn't realize it at the time, but the Film Department -- as I will continue to incorrectly call it -- was a relatively new endeavor. My classmates and I were among the first graduates of the program. While we were learning to write, shoot, direct, edit and appreciate films, Barry was putting the program together behind the scenes, fighting for more space, a higher budget, etc. As a young, naïve student, I had no conception of how much political maneuvering and infighting it took to build a department piece-by-piece at a university.

He also taught. I took three classes with him. The first class was Introduction to Film. It was a general requirement for a Mass Communications major so many sections of it were offered. I was lucky to end up in one Barry helmed. I don't think he shared my enthusiasm. Why? Just take a look at my final project Student of Crime:

 

I started the film by violating one of his major pet peeves: excessively long credits. He hated short films with long credits. My credits were only eighteen seconds long, but that was way too much for him! The subject matter and execution did little to endear me to him either, despite the fact that my overuse of the zoom lens gave the film a certain 'seventies vibe.

Barry knew I would never be a devotee of Godard. And, speaking of Godard, I also took Aesthetics of Film and History of Film under his tutelage. Barry never made me a fan of the French New Wave, but I must confess he gave me an appreciation of Robert Altman. I managed to do well in both classes, but I never made it easy for him. He warned me against the subject matter of both of my final term papers. He was adamantly against me writing a paper about The Three Stooges for my History of Film final. He said he would fail me if I did. I did it anyway and Barry actually liked it. You can read it here: The Three Stooges: An Analysis. I even include Barry's liner notes.

When I switched over from journalism to film, Barry also became my academic adviser. And, boy, I needed one. My last year at Towson was an utter disaster. I had loaded myself up with high-level computer programming classes and failed them all after I broke up with my girlfriend. I was afraid I couldn't graduate. It didn't help that Barry initially refused to sit down with me. He said he was afraid that if he said the wrong thing and I didn't graduate that I would sue him. Eventually, he sat down with me and discovered that two advance placement classes I took in high school gave me the needed credits to get over the finish line. He seemed as relieved as I was. He signed the papers, and I was gone!  

I know this blog makes it sound like Barry and I had an adversarial relationship, but I never really felt that way. I liked him. I always enjoyed his wry, sardonic sense of humor, and I admired the affection in which he held his wife Colleen and his son Ian.  

Our relationship warmed considerably post-graduation, especially after I became one of the department's success stories. Barry seemed particularly interested in my opinion of certain trends as a professional editor. Barry was expanding the film studies program. It broke away from Mass Communications and became Electronic Media and Film. Barry wanted his students to have the skills and knowledge to compete in the workplace. He was actually more forward thinking than me. When the digital revolution first arrived, Barry was quick to abandon film. On more than one occasion, I pleaded with him to keep teaching film. I told him the students should know how to handle film in case they went to Hollywood. Turns out Barry was right. Even in Hollywood, hardly anyone shoots film anymore.

I think Barry respected me more as an editor than a writer. He was a devoted adherent to the auteur theory that postulated that the director was the author of a film. We arranged a test screening of my first produced feature 21 Eyes at Towson University. I co-wrote the film with director Lee Bonner and it was produced by David Butler. David was one of my former classmates and partners in the film department. Afterwards, Barry complimented David's film to me. When I reminded him that I wrote it, he replied, "Yes, but David is a true filmmaker." True, he is, but I foolishly considered myself one too! Still, I didn't take his words too personally. I knew his belief in the auteur theory relegated the lowly screenwriter to somewhere between craft services and video assist in the filmmaking hierarchy.

Here's a film David and I made while we were in the program:

 

All of my later dealings with Barry were quite pleasant.  I particularly enjoyed working with him as a judge on the student film festival. I had been invited to act as a judge by another one of my former classmates, the late great Tom Brandau, who served as an adjunct instructor in the department at the time. We watched all of the film then convened in a classroom with two other judges to determine the winners. Barry was in a playful mood. Whenever Tom recommended a film, Barry shot it down regardless of its quality or merits. He was intentionally driving Tom crazy. I knew it because whenever Tom would turn away to one of the other judges to make his case, Barry would turn to me and wink. Finally, after nearly thirty years, Barry respected me enough as a peer to let me in on the joke. I felt I had finally made it! As silly as it sounds, that was an important moment to me.

Sadly, Barry had already retired by the time I was invited to teach screenwriting at the University for a few pre-COVID semesters. I still felt his presence as I walked the halls. His old office seemed so tiny, little more than a closet, but I still felt I could detect the lingering scent of cigarettes and coffee.

I will always respect Barry for building the Electronic Media and Film Department. I must also acknowledge that Barry taught me to look deeper into film. When I started in the program, I viewed film strictly as entertainment. He showed me how it could rise to the level of art. He gave us a great little program highlighted by wonderful comradery. Over the ensuing decades, I have kept in touch with practically all of my classmates -- and instructors -- who remained in the business.

In recent years, I talked with some classmates who had seen Barry around the town or had gone out to lunch with him. I wish I had taken the time to seek him out too. I think if I asked him, he would have gone out to lunch with me. By then, I believe he genuinely liked me. Then again, I might be fooling myself.

But it doesn't matter. I liked him.

Rest in peace, Barry. Thanks for everything. You will be missed. 

Read his obituary in The Sunpapers here: Barry Moore.

Be sure to check out my memoir The Promise, or the Pros and Cons of Talking with God, published by TouchPoint Press. It is my true story of first faith and first love and how the two became almost fatally intertwined.



Here are some sample chapters of The Promise:

Chapter 7 - Mission Accomplished
Chapter 15 - Quarter To Midnight

Be sure to check out my novel Chapel Street. It tells the story of a young man straddling the line between sanity and madness while battling a demonic entity that has driven his family members to suicide for generations. It was inspired by an actual haunting my family experienced.

You can buy the Kindle and paperback at Amazon and the Nook, paperback and hardcover at Barnes & Noble.


Learn more about the book, click Here.

Watch the book trailer:

  

Listen to me read some chapters here:


Read about the true haunting that inspired the novel here:
The Haunting of 21 St. Helens Avenue, Part 1, An Introduction
The Haunting of 21 St. Helens Avenue, Part 2, The House
The Haunting of 21 St. Helens Avenue, Part 3, This Is Us
The Haunting of 21 St. Helens Avenue, Part 4, Arrival
The Haunting of 21 St. Helens Avenue, Part 5, Methodology
The Haunting of 21 St. Helens Avenue, Part 6, Clara's Tale, Pt. 1
The Haunting of 21 St. Helens Avenue, Part 7, Clara's Tale, Pt. 2
The Haunting of 21 St. Helens Avenue, Part 8, My Tale, Pt. 1
The Haunting of 21 St. Helens Avenue, Part 9, My Tale, Pt. 2
The Haunting of 21 St. Helens Avenue, Part 10, My Tale, Pt. 3
The Haunting of 21 St. Helens Avenue, Part 11, Natalia's Tale, Pt. 1
The Haunting of 21 St. Helens Avenue, Part 12, Natalia's Tale, Pt. 2
The Haunting of 21 St. Helens Avenue, Part 13, John's Tale, Pt. 1 
The Haunting of 21 St. Helens Avenue, Part 14, John's Tale, Pt. 2
The Haunting of 21 St. Helens Avenue, Part 15, Come Inside!
The Haunting of 21 St. Helens Avenue, Part 16, Marion's Tale, Pt. 1
The Haunting of 21 St. Helens Avenue, Part 17, Marion's Tale, Pt. 2
The Haunting of 21 St. Helens Avenue, Part 18, Jeanne's Tale, Pt. 1
The Haunting of 21 St. Helens Avenue, Part 19, Jeanne's Tale, Pt. 2
The Haunting of 21 St. Helens Avenue, Part 20, Lisa's Tale
The Haunting of 21 St. Helens Avenue, Part 21, Recap, Pt. 1
The Haunting of 21 St. Helens Avenue, Part 22, Recap, Pt. 2
The Haunting of 21 St. Helens Avenue, Part 23, Recap, Pt. 3

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4 comments:

  1. Great stories, and a fine portrait and tribute. Well done, Sean. I'll be viewing your student films posted here later!

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  2. I certainly remember my first intro to film class with him. It's indelible. I'm not sure he liked me either. I was the first woman to ever work in the film lab. My dear friend Caprice was the second one. We both came into the wolves den together. Barry told us none of us would ever work and film and yet all of us in that class within 12 months of each other, walked out the door and worked in the industry. I'm not sure if that made him angry or happy. You never knew with Barry

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    Replies
    1. Thinking that Barry didn't like you seems to be a common theme with many people I have been communicating with since his death! I remember him saying I would never work in the business too! Then again, our major was new and there was no established track record. We all had to go out and find a way to make it work. I am shocked when I think about all of the people in our class who managed to work in the field. It's amazing!

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