K.J. Choi moves to 'Utopia'

Seven Days in Utopia, the inspirational golf flick shooting in Fredericksburg (that's Texas, y'all)has added a pro golfer to the cast. Here's the official press release:

Korean pro golfer K.J. Choi has joined the cast of Seven Days in Utopia, the feature film adaptation of Dr. David L. Cook’s best-selling book, Golf’s Sacred Journey: Seven Days at the Links of Utopia. Directed by Matthew Dean Russell, Seven Days in Utopia stars Lucas Black and Academy Award-winner Robert Duvall.

Filming on location in Fredericksburg and Utopia, Texas, Seven Days in Utopia follows the story of Luke Chisolm (played by Lucas Black), a talented young golfer set on making the pro tour. When his first big shot turns out to be a very public disaster, Luke escapes the pressures of the game and finds himself unexpectedly stranded in Utopia, Texas, home to eccentric rancher Johnny Crawford (played by Robert Duvall). But Johnny’s more than meets the eye, and his profound ways of looking at life force Luke to question not only his past choices, but his direction for the future. The cast also includes Deborah Ann Woll (HBO’s True Blood), Brian Geraghty (The Hurt Locker) and Academy Award nominee Melissa Leo (Frozen River). The feature adaptation was written by Russell, Cook and Rob Levine.

Since joining the PGA Tour in 2000, Choi has quickly gained notable success, finishing in the top 30 money winners in each of the last three years with over two million dollars in earnings in 2004. The first Korean born player to have secured a PGA card and won on the PGA tour, Choi is one of only two Asian born players with multiple wins on the PGA Tour and is only the fourth Asian born player with a PGA Tour victory.

Choi plays ‘Tae Kwon Oh’, one of the chief and most intimidating competitors that Black’s ‘Chisolm’ character must face during his attempt to succeed on the PGA tour. Of taking on his first role in a feature film, Choi said, “I was inspired by Dr. Cook’s book. Acting in a feature film is a new challenge, and one I am enjoying undertaking.”

“Having a genuine star of the PGA tour onboard to play this role automatically raises the game so-to-speak,” said producer Mark G. Mathis. “K.J. Choi’s presence adds another level of legitimacy and authenticity to a project that has already soared beyond any of our expectations.“

Seven Days in Utopia is being produced by Mark G. Mathis (Brick, Precious) and Jason M. Berman (The Dry Land). Executive Producers are Ken Herfurht, Phil Myers, Robert Carliner and Lucas Black. The film was cast by Mary Vernieu and Lindsay Graham.

Extras needed for 'Seven Days in Utopia'

This just in from Sarah Dowling Casting about the film Seven Days in Utopia. The interesting part is Robert Duvall is in the mix:

Seven Days in Utopia based on the inspirational novel by David Cook will be filming in Fredericksburg July 29th - August 10th. The film stars Robert Duvall and Lucas Black.

We are looking for:
GOLFERS
GOLF FANS
MEN, WOMEN, and CHILDREN OF ALL AGES

If you live in FREDERICKSBURG or surrounding areas, we are coming to you:
Saturday, July 17th from 1:00PM–7:00PM
Sunday, July 18th from 1:00PM-6:00PM

Where:
Inn on Baron's Creek
Walch Haus Conference Center
308 South Washington Street, Fredericksburg, TX 78624

For driving directions, lodging, and dining information, please call the Fredericksburg Convention and Visitor Bureau at (830)-997-6523 or visit their website at www.VisitFredericksburgTX.org.

The casting call will consist of a brief talk with a member of the casting team and possibly an interview on camera. Please bring a non-returnable photo!

No appointment is necessary. If interested, please simply report to the casting venue. If you have any questions, you may reach us at (830) 965-6601 or email us at UtopiaExtras@gmail.com.

A new year in Fredericksburg

Nicholas checks out some motorcycles peeling out onto Main Street.


Nicholas' first trip to Luckenbach.

I've got my son's socks on my hands and Mr. Senor Socky and his twin brother Senor Mr. Socky are nibbling at Nicholas' ears. It's a sign of how my life has changed in the last couple of years. We're in a bed-and-breakfast in Fredericksburg, a destination for Tiffany and me since we started dating. Then it was about a bottle of wine and a jacuzzi--quiet moments away from the big city.

This was again to be a getaway for the two of us, but Tiffany's mother fell ill, so Nicholas is along with us for the weekend. The b&b operators were understanding and Nicholas makes every day a treasure--particularly as he experiences new parts of the world. That always includes looking at trucks, buses and motorcycles. He saw plenty and often grabbed my hand and guided me down the wide Main Street in search of adventures.

Here's a piece I wrote about Fredericksburg a few years back, I believe the last time we stayed in the town. It ran in a shorter form in the Austin American-Statesman Unfortunately, the Main Book Store appears to be another past-tense location in Fredericksburg:


PIONEER DAY
By Joe O’Connell

We're three miles from Enchanted Rock and on the radio Tish Hinojosa is warbling something about the real West. We turn toward the Crabapple Community Center and I realize I am a fraud. A Texas by birth maybe, but I do not fit.

An old man is exiting his truck in that wobbly, ponderous way that says: "I'm from here. My grandparents were from here, and I'm in no hurry to get inside." Metal chairs are in rows under a gingham tent on the lawn. More men keep guard of the barbecue pits while women huddle together and tell stories. Our car creeps past, and they look up for only a moment, just enough time for the gaze of curiosity to ripen to resignation. We are not from here.

Down the road we turn onto a gravel road into old West tourist town. The Tin Star Ranch is a huddle of log cabins, an ancient church and a plastic-bottomed pond. We are staying on the end in the Frontier Cabin. In the bedroom, under a poster for Buckskin Bill's Wild West Show is our rustic bedroom and Jacuzzi tub. I turn the air conditioning to arctic and my wife and I settle in.

This is our latest Hill Country getaway. When Austin, the city of my birth, gets too hectic, we head to Fredericksburg, plop down a credit card and take up residence in nature, or reasonable facsimile of.

We've been coming for a decade but have begun to talk about it in the past tense. The Admiral Nimitz birthplace on Main was our first favorite bed and breakfast, its walls thick with permanence. But earlier today we had found it occupied by a cluster of shops. Fredericksburg's former hospital, which remained open as a doctors' office until recently, was filled with more stores, and cabinets that once held patient charts were stuffed with trinkets. The nurse's window served up coffee.

Down the street, the Palace Theater logo still promised once-nightly first-run features. We had wandered inside fondly recalling the sticky floors, salty sweet snacks and squeaky seats. The screen was now painted with a Southwestern motif of clouds and mountains as part of its transformation to a link in an upscale clothing chain with outlets in Santa Fe and California. I had no right to complain. A fraud, remember? This was not my town. Another visitor, the sales clerk's unseeing eyes said.

We stopped at the Main Book Store and flipped through the Texana section. My sweetheart, the daughter of German and Czech pioneers of Texas, bought a book about her ancestors. I grabbed "Southwest Stories," a compilation of short fiction by people who all seem to be from somewhere else. Chicago's Sandra Cisneros writes about San Antonio. Kentucky's Barbara Kingsolver opines about the Arizona heat. Larry McMurtry, a Texas nerd, pens tales of manly Texas cowboys.

Back at the Tin Star Ranch we pull up rocking chairs and read amid the neener-neener-neener of playful birds. Grasshoppers pop over our feet. Across the pecan bottom authentic longhorns moan as if asking wwwhhhyyy? Why are you here?

Silly cattle, I'm here because I'm a Central Texas city boy like my father before me, like his father since transplanting his Irish clan from Chicago. Like my mother's wild Louisiana brood who crossed the border seeking something lost to time. Not long roots like my wife’s, but they're growing every day amid the cedar, pecan and live oak trees that smell like home.

Near sunset, the summer heat melts into dusk. We walk the fence line toward a pair of beige horses. They turn away from us and nibble at the unseasonably ample grass this damp summer. Two semi-tame deer look at us curiously (Why are you here?). I hold a tiny crabapple in my palm and the braver deer sniffs my fingers for a moment before turning away.

As the sky fades to fingerpaintings of pink and purple, we stroll toward the faded wooden church. The stained glass has the look of newness. On closer inspection we realize it's painted tin.

Darkness drops like a knife and we take refuge in the Frontier Cabin. After a comfortable sleep atop Ralph Lauren linens, we pop the tops on tiny bottles of Dr Pepper and dine on German pastries purchased in town. Cows dot the tree-covered hillside. A light rain commences. We rock in our chairs and drift. This is my Texas. This, my friends, is why we are all here.