Greetings and welcome to Cinemusing! I’m Brian Johnson, a wannabe director, and this is where I will be chronicling my future adventures in film production, whatever they may be. I’ve already had some adventures, but wasn’t much of a consistent blogger about them. So, forward we go!
The dream, of course, is to end up with “Directed by Brian Johnson” on a movie screen, a real theater movie screen somewhere. Limited release, wide release, I don’t care. Oh, and it has to be a feature-length production: Short films are nice and all, but I want to direct a feature film someday.
Like any good movie, my life has a backstory relevant to this blog that leads up to this date. As time permits, I will briefly present that information; but otherwise it will mostly be a look forward as I work my way up (hopefully) to accomplish some version of my dream. Entries of a given production’s activities for the day will be interspersed with my thoughts (rants) on cinematic techniques and ideas I come across in my quest.
I hope you’ll stick around, either as an encouraging fan, or a newbie film maker yourself who wants to learn from someone else’s mistakes, or as a seasoned veteran who can point me in the right direction when needed.
So here we go!
Thursday, September 29, 2011
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
Backstory: In Development
The family moved to Midvale, Utah, in either 1979 or 1980, I forget which. What I do remember was the fantastic front window and curtain, the perfect venue for a little boy to put on shows for stuffed animals. The curtain was operated with a drawstring on one side, so I could open the curtain, step out from behind it, perform whatever it was I was performing back then, then return and close the curtain to end the show.
The house also came equipped with our first staircase. The stairs landed in a hallway that ran perpendicular to them, so that there was a blank white wall facing you when you took the last step down. This turned out to be ideal for showing “movies” to my stuffed animals. I would line them up on the steps, and imagine that a movie was being shown on the white wall. Being the projectionist, I did not actually stick around; but I was known to leave the animals on the stairs for over an hour as if they really were at a theater viewing the latest flick.
In elementary school, I gladly participated in all the class programs. Somehow, the principal, Mr. DeGraw, became aware of my performing interests and invited me to join “The State Show”, an annual musical presentation he put together himself out of popular songs from select states. A chorus of some thirty students sang “California, Here I Come” and “I Am a Utah Man” while others would take center stage to perform an accompanying dance.
I was slated to be in the Utah song, but I couldn’t pick up the move very well, so I was moved over to join two others in doing the (easier) dance for “Chicago, Illinois.” I must say I looked dapper in my – well, I'm not sure what to call it. The striped shirt, vest, and pants remind me of an old-west bartender or some such. Ultimately, it was a blast for an exuberant young performer, especially when we took the whole show to a nursing home in the area.
It was while living in Utah that I really got into the home-grown “shows”, inspired mostly by my vinyl record of Disneyland music. The record featured music from the Electrical Parade, Pirates of the Caribbean, The Haunted Mansion, and other prominent attractions at the amusement park. And on repeated occasions, I sat my parents down and performed “dances” to each of the tracks on the record. The whole experience was a good forty minutes per sitting, yet my parents were always smiling and enjoying every moment.
On the one hand, these were trivial moments in my past; but on the other hand, I have no doubt they contributed to the foundation of what I would become. Even us great performers have our humble beginnings.
The house also came equipped with our first staircase. The stairs landed in a hallway that ran perpendicular to them, so that there was a blank white wall facing you when you took the last step down. This turned out to be ideal for showing “movies” to my stuffed animals. I would line them up on the steps, and imagine that a movie was being shown on the white wall. Being the projectionist, I did not actually stick around; but I was known to leave the animals on the stairs for over an hour as if they really were at a theater viewing the latest flick.
In elementary school, I gladly participated in all the class programs. Somehow, the principal, Mr. DeGraw, became aware of my performing interests and invited me to join “The State Show”, an annual musical presentation he put together himself out of popular songs from select states. A chorus of some thirty students sang “California, Here I Come” and “I Am a Utah Man” while others would take center stage to perform an accompanying dance.
I was slated to be in the Utah song, but I couldn’t pick up the move very well, so I was moved over to join two others in doing the (easier) dance for “Chicago, Illinois.” I must say I looked dapper in my – well, I'm not sure what to call it. The striped shirt, vest, and pants remind me of an old-west bartender or some such. Ultimately, it was a blast for an exuberant young performer, especially when we took the whole show to a nursing home in the area.
It was while living in Utah that I really got into the home-grown “shows”, inspired mostly by my vinyl record of Disneyland music. The record featured music from the Electrical Parade, Pirates of the Caribbean, The Haunted Mansion, and other prominent attractions at the amusement park. And on repeated occasions, I sat my parents down and performed “dances” to each of the tracks on the record. The whole experience was a good forty minutes per sitting, yet my parents were always smiling and enjoying every moment.
On the one hand, these were trivial moments in my past; but on the other hand, I have no doubt they contributed to the foundation of what I would become. Even us great performers have our humble beginnings.
Monday, January 3, 2011
Backstory: The Born Entertainer
If my published quest to make a movie began on January 1, 2011, it should be noted that my unpublished quest began 36 years prior to that. I deliberately chose a Sunday afternoon to be born, so that my mother’s absence from the church service that morning would generate attention. Plus I was born in the Whittier hospital, which explains my fantastic sense of humor.
As far back as I can remember, I was interested in theatrical atmosphere of some kind or another. The relevant memory I have of life in Los Angeles was the record (those old vinyl things) the girl across the street had. It was a “spooky” record designed to make little kids scream more with giggles than actual fright, but it had some great music, and a narrator with a good voice for Halloween material. And I loved listening to it, because it was so successfully atmospheric. Not that I was consciously evaluating it for its cinematic quality at that age, but I know in retrospect that its tone contributed to my creativity in those and later years.
We lived for about six years in the La Mirada neighborhood of Los Angeles, and while I don’t remember much of it, my mother will testify that I was putting on “shows” for my stuffed animals in those early years. I’m sure much of my life was a “show” back then: I had already demonstrated a tendency toward being a tour guide, for example, from confines as small as the driveway to much longer family road trips. My guess is I picked that up from the Disneyland railway recording or some similar venue.
So my interest in the general world of showmanship was a part of my nature from the very beginning, and has only grown since then. It may or may not be too bad that we moved from the Los Angeles area before I ever had a chance to show Hollywood what they were missing.
As far back as I can remember, I was interested in theatrical atmosphere of some kind or another. The relevant memory I have of life in Los Angeles was the record (those old vinyl things) the girl across the street had. It was a “spooky” record designed to make little kids scream more with giggles than actual fright, but it had some great music, and a narrator with a good voice for Halloween material. And I loved listening to it, because it was so successfully atmospheric. Not that I was consciously evaluating it for its cinematic quality at that age, but I know in retrospect that its tone contributed to my creativity in those and later years.
We lived for about six years in the La Mirada neighborhood of Los Angeles, and while I don’t remember much of it, my mother will testify that I was putting on “shows” for my stuffed animals in those early years. I’m sure much of my life was a “show” back then: I had already demonstrated a tendency toward being a tour guide, for example, from confines as small as the driveway to much longer family road trips. My guess is I picked that up from the Disneyland railway recording or some similar venue.
So my interest in the general world of showmanship was a part of my nature from the very beginning, and has only grown since then. It may or may not be too bad that we moved from the Los Angeles area before I ever had a chance to show Hollywood what they were missing.
Saturday, January 1, 2011
Action!
Greetings and welcome to Cinemusing! I’m Brian Johnson, a wannabe director, and this is where I will be chronicling my adventures in film production, whatever they may be.
The dream, of course, is to end up with “Directed by Brian Johnson” on a movie screen, a real theater movie screen somewhere. Limited release, wide release, I don’t care. Oh, and it has to be a feature-length production: Short films are nice and all, but I want to direct a feature film someday.
Like any good movie, my life has a backstory relevant to this blog that leads up to this date. As time permits, I will briefly present that information; but otherwise it will mostly be a look forward as I work my way up (hopefully) to accomplish some version of my dream. Entries of a given production’s activities for the day will be interspersed with my thoughts (rants) on cinematic techniques and ideas I come across in my quest.
I hope you’ll stick around, either as an encouraging fan, or a newbie film maker yourself who wants to learn from someone else’s mistakes, or as a seasoned veteran who can point me in the right direction when needed.
So here we go!
The dream, of course, is to end up with “Directed by Brian Johnson” on a movie screen, a real theater movie screen somewhere. Limited release, wide release, I don’t care. Oh, and it has to be a feature-length production: Short films are nice and all, but I want to direct a feature film someday.
Like any good movie, my life has a backstory relevant to this blog that leads up to this date. As time permits, I will briefly present that information; but otherwise it will mostly be a look forward as I work my way up (hopefully) to accomplish some version of my dream. Entries of a given production’s activities for the day will be interspersed with my thoughts (rants) on cinematic techniques and ideas I come across in my quest.
I hope you’ll stick around, either as an encouraging fan, or a newbie film maker yourself who wants to learn from someone else’s mistakes, or as a seasoned veteran who can point me in the right direction when needed.
So here we go!
Friday, October 1, 2010
Your Cheating Heart
And without any further ado, I have news of production work!
Local actor and director Craig Richards recently purchased a new Canon 7D camera and wanted to try it out on something. So he and an acquaintance wrote a short script, called it good, rounded up some cast and crew, and we started shooting this past Monday night, September 27th. Three nights later, around 3:00 a.m., we wrapped and staggered home.
The concept is fairly simple: Marital tension between a husband and wife has the bad timing of boiling over while they are dining in public. Suspicions of infidelity force the conversation into uncomfortable territory, and secrets are revealed that will change everything. And that's all I'm going to say, because the story is one where half the fun is turning the corners to find new surprises waiting.
My job title was Assistant Camera, which would be 1st Assistant Camera if we had other assistants. I set up the camera, made sure it was running, and otherwise helped out the Director of Photography as needed. Truth be told, on a shoot this small, there were significant stretches of time where I was not needed. As is often the case with "indie" films, the D.P. was also the Camera Operator anyway, so it was often faster for him to simply do what needed doing than to call me over, explain it to me, and have me do it.
The shoot took place primarily in a restaurant, and the proprietors of Bourbon Street Bend graciously allowed Craig to move in to one of their side rooms. It was a tight squeeze – another reason I often stepped out of the room rather than cram in next to the camera just to execute something too simple for words that the D.P. could do in an instant. But it has been interesting to watch it come together.
Having worked alongside the Canon 7D for a couple of days now, I'd have to say I'm not overly seduced by it. True, I have not seen the captured images on a proper television screen to see the quality, but the camera itself is simply trying to be too much. It takes both stills and video, and therefore its surface is covered with buttons and dials, many of which either the D.P. or I bumped while simply trying to operate the camera. Plus it "gets tired" way too easily: Some sensor inside can only stay on and recording for approximately fifteen minutes before the screen fades out and the camera needs to be switched off for a few seconds to recover. Give me good old 35mm film anyday!
The film's working title is Infidel, and Craig hopes to have it done in time for entry in a December film festival. So keep your eyes open!
Craig, by the way, has had appearances in numerous Hollywood productions. Watch for him as the officer scowling at Jon Lovitz in Rat Race, or the guard over Jim Carrey's right shoulder as he packs up and leaves the studio at the beginning of The Majestic, among others.
Local actor and director Craig Richards recently purchased a new Canon 7D camera and wanted to try it out on something. So he and an acquaintance wrote a short script, called it good, rounded up some cast and crew, and we started shooting this past Monday night, September 27th. Three nights later, around 3:00 a.m., we wrapped and staggered home.
The concept is fairly simple: Marital tension between a husband and wife has the bad timing of boiling over while they are dining in public. Suspicions of infidelity force the conversation into uncomfortable territory, and secrets are revealed that will change everything. And that's all I'm going to say, because the story is one where half the fun is turning the corners to find new surprises waiting.
My job title was Assistant Camera, which would be 1st Assistant Camera if we had other assistants. I set up the camera, made sure it was running, and otherwise helped out the Director of Photography as needed. Truth be told, on a shoot this small, there were significant stretches of time where I was not needed. As is often the case with "indie" films, the D.P. was also the Camera Operator anyway, so it was often faster for him to simply do what needed doing than to call me over, explain it to me, and have me do it.
The shoot took place primarily in a restaurant, and the proprietors of Bourbon Street Bend graciously allowed Craig to move in to one of their side rooms. It was a tight squeeze – another reason I often stepped out of the room rather than cram in next to the camera just to execute something too simple for words that the D.P. could do in an instant. But it has been interesting to watch it come together.
Having worked alongside the Canon 7D for a couple of days now, I'd have to say I'm not overly seduced by it. True, I have not seen the captured images on a proper television screen to see the quality, but the camera itself is simply trying to be too much. It takes both stills and video, and therefore its surface is covered with buttons and dials, many of which either the D.P. or I bumped while simply trying to operate the camera. Plus it "gets tired" way too easily: Some sensor inside can only stay on and recording for approximately fifteen minutes before the screen fades out and the camera needs to be switched off for a few seconds to recover. Give me good old 35mm film anyday!
The film's working title is Infidel, and Craig hopes to have it done in time for entry in a December film festival. So keep your eyes open!
Craig, by the way, has had appearances in numerous Hollywood productions. Watch for him as the officer scowling at Jon Lovitz in Rat Race, or the guard over Jim Carrey's right shoulder as he packs up and leaves the studio at the beginning of The Majestic, among others.
Thursday, July 1, 2010
The Director's Chair - July 2010
Greetings from the Motion Pictures Studios!
This past quarter saw a successful run of She Stoops to Conquer at Cascades Theatrical Company. Of the four community theater plays I have directed, this is quite possibly my most satisfying result - though the previous three came off so well also that putting any one play in First Place is a matter of inches, not yards.
If you live in the Central Oregon area and watch the cable channels, you may have seen me play an insomniac for the St. Charles Sleep Center commercial. Not having cable, I have yet to see it myself, but it's something of a hoot to be someplace and have a total stranger stare for a moment, squint, inch closer, and finally say: "Are you the sleepless guy?"
Who knew that merely acting sleepless could take three hours to capture on video? I spent an afternoon laying on a mattress at Rage Studios with a camera directly overhead. A heavy camera. Held to its mounts by zip ties. I wasn't actually nervous but if a Red Camera were to fall ten feet lens-first directly onto your face, it wouldn't be a nice afternoon.
Anyway, for three hours we tried all possible variations of sleeplessness: Dazed, staring at the ceiling, frustrated, tossing and turning, thrashing, thumping the pillow, and so on. I actually had it pretty easy: I got to lay down and get paid for it; Chris Kas had to alternately stand and squat on the cherry picker basket several feet above me that whole time.
Just a couple weeks ago I had a truly cool experience when I was a temp crew member of The Wait, an independent film being shot 20 minutes away in the town of Sisters. I was scheduled to be out of town the entire last week of their production schedule, so I reckon that is part of why I did not get a full-time position, but the two days were still very interesting.
I debated outlining it all here, but I will shortly have both days described in vivid detail on my Cinemusing blog, so I'll let interested parties dive in over there. I will say, however, that I got to sit within talking distance of Chloe Sevigney at lunch (Boys Don't Cry, Melinda and Melinda, among others), and she even spoke to me for a short while. I'm actually not into the whole "celebrity" thing, but it was a cool moment for me.
On a more personal front, I decided it was time to get in shape. (Jeremy, stop laughing.) Having tried for years to motivate myself, I think I have finally found the answer, by combining my need for better health with my love of film-making. I am documenting the 100-Day Fitness Countdown on YouTube and having a lot of fun doing it.
Well, 2010 is half over and many things remain undone. My short Mammon and the Archer and Animals still await their final and official DVD releases for cast and crew. I have not yet made a new short film, as I resolved to have done by this point. And the screenplay for Horatio sits atrophying in a corner. I know you won't believe me if I say that at least half of these things are going to be finished by the next newsletter - but if I simply refrain from sending out the next newsletter until they're finished, I end up being right. Ha!
Later, peeps! Hang loose, break for pedestrians, vote Constitutionalist, and call your mother - she's worried about you.
This past quarter saw a successful run of She Stoops to Conquer at Cascades Theatrical Company. Of the four community theater plays I have directed, this is quite possibly my most satisfying result - though the previous three came off so well also that putting any one play in First Place is a matter of inches, not yards.
If you live in the Central Oregon area and watch the cable channels, you may have seen me play an insomniac for the St. Charles Sleep Center commercial. Not having cable, I have yet to see it myself, but it's something of a hoot to be someplace and have a total stranger stare for a moment, squint, inch closer, and finally say: "Are you the sleepless guy?"
Who knew that merely acting sleepless could take three hours to capture on video? I spent an afternoon laying on a mattress at Rage Studios with a camera directly overhead. A heavy camera. Held to its mounts by zip ties. I wasn't actually nervous but if a Red Camera were to fall ten feet lens-first directly onto your face, it wouldn't be a nice afternoon.
Anyway, for three hours we tried all possible variations of sleeplessness: Dazed, staring at the ceiling, frustrated, tossing and turning, thrashing, thumping the pillow, and so on. I actually had it pretty easy: I got to lay down and get paid for it; Chris Kas had to alternately stand and squat on the cherry picker basket several feet above me that whole time.
Just a couple weeks ago I had a truly cool experience when I was a temp crew member of The Wait, an independent film being shot 20 minutes away in the town of Sisters. I was scheduled to be out of town the entire last week of their production schedule, so I reckon that is part of why I did not get a full-time position, but the two days were still very interesting.
I debated outlining it all here, but I will shortly have both days described in vivid detail on my Cinemusing blog, so I'll let interested parties dive in over there. I will say, however, that I got to sit within talking distance of Chloe Sevigney at lunch (Boys Don't Cry, Melinda and Melinda, among others), and she even spoke to me for a short while. I'm actually not into the whole "celebrity" thing, but it was a cool moment for me.
On a more personal front, I decided it was time to get in shape. (Jeremy, stop laughing.) Having tried for years to motivate myself, I think I have finally found the answer, by combining my need for better health with my love of film-making. I am documenting the 100-Day Fitness Countdown on YouTube and having a lot of fun doing it.
Well, 2010 is half over and many things remain undone. My short Mammon and the Archer and Animals still await their final and official DVD releases for cast and crew. I have not yet made a new short film, as I resolved to have done by this point. And the screenplay for Horatio sits atrophying in a corner. I know you won't believe me if I say that at least half of these things are going to be finished by the next newsletter - but if I simply refrain from sending out the next newsletter until they're finished, I end up being right. Ha!
Later, peeps! Hang loose, break for pedestrians, vote Constitutionalist, and call your mother - she's worried about you.
Sunday, June 20, 2010
The Wait: Day 1 of 2
An independent film production came to Central Oregon this month: The Wait, a drama involving a psychiatrist and a dysfunctional familial relationship. I have the extended logline for it around here somewhere, but I'm not going to look it up right now.
Anyway, I dutifully sent in my resume when I saw the job notice in my e-mailbox. However, I sensed right away I probably would not get hired because I am already scheduled to be out of town the last week of their production calendar. And indeed, I did not hear back from them. Until last week.
I got a call asking if I would be available to be on the crew as a swing between the grip and the electrical departments on Friday the 18th and Monday the 21st. Naturally I said yes.
So on Friday afternoon I headed out past Sisters to the Black Butte Ranch, which is hardly a ranch anymore if it ever was, but rather a high-brow resort complete with lake, golf course, and who knows what else. I checked in, headed through the front gate, and promptly made a wrong turn. But after correcting my error I ended up at the parking lot assigned to crew members.
Due to underestimating the distance from my house, along with weekend traffic consisting of slow-moving RV's and boats, plus the aforementioned wrong turn, I arrived about fifteen minutes later than the official call, so all the crew had already left the parking lot and were at the resort cabin of choice. I grabbed my duffel bag, complete with four varieties of clothing in preparation for the wide mood swings of desert weather in early summer, and headed down the road on foot.
I found the lot number and house in about ten minutes, later learning that the van that passed me three times was the crew shuttle and had the driver known who I was, she would have stopped for me. No worries, the exercise was good for me, and hardly strenuous.
I located Joe Paulet, my immediate supervisor and contact. He's the Best Boy Grip on the production, which in simple terms means he mans the grip equipment truck and delivers what's called for to the Key Grip (Joe Timko), who is the guy in charge of all the grip personnel. And yes, I had two Joe's as my supervisors. A great way for a nervous new guy to step into a working crew and get thoroughly confused.
In the first ten minutes I met more people than I will remember. I got a walkie-talkie and earpiece from a woman I cannot now recall, met the Gaffer (Efram Peter), the Best Boy Electric (Ben Porter), and then person after person after person. I only even remember the few I do because I have the call sheet for the day still in my pocket, with crew names on it.
I was indeed nervous, figuring that this crew had already had four days to get up to speed and get a working relationship going. On top of that, I haven't worked with real film equipment and lingo since 2006 in South Carolina. I was certain that sometime during the day, probably earlier than later, I would end up with egg on my face and a frustrated member of the heirarchy wondering why they bothered to hire me. I am delighted to report that everyone on the crew was very friendly and welcoming, at least as much as they could be given the constant pace of the work ahead of them.
Our first task, already in progress when I arrived, was to black out all the windows of the house so that night interior scenes could be shot during the day. As a "swing" I never really had one supervisor, but was bounced from person to person as the need arose: "Here, help Ben block out these windows, then come find Joe where he's covering over the screen door."
I was re-introduced to the C-stand, the grip's best friend, and met the 4x4 "Floppy" for the first time. The Floppy is a large frame with solid black fabric stretched over it, but unlike an ordinary "flag" it comes with an extra 4x4 flap of cloth that can either be velcroed in place over the main frame or allowed to drop down so that you end up with a 4x8 light-blocking screen.
Other windows were covered with the traditional Duvetyne, a solid black fabric that thoroughly and utterly blocks light from passing through it. And where ordinary black cloth would actually show up on film because it does reflect a significant amount of light, Duvetyne has a matte surface so that it appears as total darkness on film or video. We used a ton of this stuff because the house had entire rooms windowed for a great view of the mountains, which we did not want at this time.
My previous experience has been with film crews so small that once we were done being grips and electricians, we'd then hurry over to be sound engineers and dolly grips for the actual shooting. For The Wait, I was quietly but hurriedly covering the northeast corner of the living room windows when I heard "Cut!" over my walkie-talkie. It was only then that I realized they were already shooting inside and it was a darn good thing I wasn't banging around loudly outside.
Though the whole day was a good learning experience, my creative side is a little disappointed that my job consisted of being outside and grabbing any equipment needed inside. For twelve hours I did not see any of the actual shooting inside, did not get to see the creative process at work between the director, the 1st AD, the cinematographer, or the actors. Not that I would want to erase the day and start over; I'll just have to wait for another time to be a part of the above-the-line team.
I had heard the film was independent and relatively low-budget, so I assumed I wouldn't know anyone involved. Then I took a good look at the call sheet that morning and learned that Jena Malone and Chloe Sevigny were cast members! I will admit to being unable to identify them in a line-up of Hollywood starlets, but I've seen at least two films that each of them has been in. (Look them up yourself, I'm busy.)
So when we broke for "lunch" at 8:00 p.m. and I randomly sat down at a table, I found a certain fascination in seeing Ms. Sevigny sit down just a seat away. (I briefly wondered if I had sat at the higher-ups' table, but I noticed everyone mingling every which way so I didn't get panicky.) I played it calm and cool, not wanting to breach protocol or look like a fool around a "star", though I confess I would have liked to have an autograph. As other crew members sat down we all began conversing. Somehow the conversations led to my experience in Oregon's community theater, and Chloe (the Chloe Sevigny) asked me if I did any acting, to which I said yes, and some directing. She said, "Cool." Yes, the Chloe Sevigny told me my acting experience was "cool". You may have my autograph. (I think Jena Malone was on set that day but I did not see her at lunch and, as I already mentioned, I was not assigned to the set myself.)
Once the windows were blacked out, the day went by in a fairly normal way. We stayed on call, ready to grab a C-stand or a light stand or a cable of some kind. My opportunities to get off my feet were limited to the occasional three or four minutes here and there. I got sore.
Around 2:00 a.m. the shoot wrapped for the night, and we spent the next two hours packing up everything. I won't detail it here. But by 4:00 a.m. I was very grateful to hear that I was free to go while the Key personnel did the last tidying up. I am by nature not an intrusive person, and figuring that they all wanted to get home as well, I did not bother anyone for a ride back to the parking lot. Each step (uphill) was quite painful, and once I was away from all the spotlights, I noticed that the sun was already coming up. A full night outdoors.
I could barely get my left leg into the car, and when I got out at home, the muscles that had been stiffening up during the 45-minute drive all complained loudly. They hurt even now, almost a full day later. I am so glad I did not have two of those workdays in a row.
I go back on Monday, location to be determined, and am looking forward to it.
Anyway, I dutifully sent in my resume when I saw the job notice in my e-mailbox. However, I sensed right away I probably would not get hired because I am already scheduled to be out of town the last week of their production calendar. And indeed, I did not hear back from them. Until last week.
I got a call asking if I would be available to be on the crew as a swing between the grip and the electrical departments on Friday the 18th and Monday the 21st. Naturally I said yes.
So on Friday afternoon I headed out past Sisters to the Black Butte Ranch, which is hardly a ranch anymore if it ever was, but rather a high-brow resort complete with lake, golf course, and who knows what else. I checked in, headed through the front gate, and promptly made a wrong turn. But after correcting my error I ended up at the parking lot assigned to crew members.
Due to underestimating the distance from my house, along with weekend traffic consisting of slow-moving RV's and boats, plus the aforementioned wrong turn, I arrived about fifteen minutes later than the official call, so all the crew had already left the parking lot and were at the resort cabin of choice. I grabbed my duffel bag, complete with four varieties of clothing in preparation for the wide mood swings of desert weather in early summer, and headed down the road on foot.
I found the lot number and house in about ten minutes, later learning that the van that passed me three times was the crew shuttle and had the driver known who I was, she would have stopped for me. No worries, the exercise was good for me, and hardly strenuous.
I located Joe Paulet, my immediate supervisor and contact. He's the Best Boy Grip on the production, which in simple terms means he mans the grip equipment truck and delivers what's called for to the Key Grip (Joe Timko), who is the guy in charge of all the grip personnel. And yes, I had two Joe's as my supervisors. A great way for a nervous new guy to step into a working crew and get thoroughly confused.
In the first ten minutes I met more people than I will remember. I got a walkie-talkie and earpiece from a woman I cannot now recall, met the Gaffer (Efram Peter), the Best Boy Electric (Ben Porter), and then person after person after person. I only even remember the few I do because I have the call sheet for the day still in my pocket, with crew names on it.
I was indeed nervous, figuring that this crew had already had four days to get up to speed and get a working relationship going. On top of that, I haven't worked with real film equipment and lingo since 2006 in South Carolina. I was certain that sometime during the day, probably earlier than later, I would end up with egg on my face and a frustrated member of the heirarchy wondering why they bothered to hire me. I am delighted to report that everyone on the crew was very friendly and welcoming, at least as much as they could be given the constant pace of the work ahead of them.
Our first task, already in progress when I arrived, was to black out all the windows of the house so that night interior scenes could be shot during the day. As a "swing" I never really had one supervisor, but was bounced from person to person as the need arose: "Here, help Ben block out these windows, then come find Joe where he's covering over the screen door."
I was re-introduced to the C-stand, the grip's best friend, and met the 4x4 "Floppy" for the first time. The Floppy is a large frame with solid black fabric stretched over it, but unlike an ordinary "flag" it comes with an extra 4x4 flap of cloth that can either be velcroed in place over the main frame or allowed to drop down so that you end up with a 4x8 light-blocking screen.
Other windows were covered with the traditional Duvetyne, a solid black fabric that thoroughly and utterly blocks light from passing through it. And where ordinary black cloth would actually show up on film because it does reflect a significant amount of light, Duvetyne has a matte surface so that it appears as total darkness on film or video. We used a ton of this stuff because the house had entire rooms windowed for a great view of the mountains, which we did not want at this time.
My previous experience has been with film crews so small that once we were done being grips and electricians, we'd then hurry over to be sound engineers and dolly grips for the actual shooting. For The Wait, I was quietly but hurriedly covering the northeast corner of the living room windows when I heard "Cut!" over my walkie-talkie. It was only then that I realized they were already shooting inside and it was a darn good thing I wasn't banging around loudly outside.
Though the whole day was a good learning experience, my creative side is a little disappointed that my job consisted of being outside and grabbing any equipment needed inside. For twelve hours I did not see any of the actual shooting inside, did not get to see the creative process at work between the director, the 1st AD, the cinematographer, or the actors. Not that I would want to erase the day and start over; I'll just have to wait for another time to be a part of the above-the-line team.
I had heard the film was independent and relatively low-budget, so I assumed I wouldn't know anyone involved. Then I took a good look at the call sheet that morning and learned that Jena Malone and Chloe Sevigny were cast members! I will admit to being unable to identify them in a line-up of Hollywood starlets, but I've seen at least two films that each of them has been in. (Look them up yourself, I'm busy.)
So when we broke for "lunch" at 8:00 p.m. and I randomly sat down at a table, I found a certain fascination in seeing Ms. Sevigny sit down just a seat away. (I briefly wondered if I had sat at the higher-ups' table, but I noticed everyone mingling every which way so I didn't get panicky.) I played it calm and cool, not wanting to breach protocol or look like a fool around a "star", though I confess I would have liked to have an autograph. As other crew members sat down we all began conversing. Somehow the conversations led to my experience in Oregon's community theater, and Chloe (the Chloe Sevigny) asked me if I did any acting, to which I said yes, and some directing. She said, "Cool." Yes, the Chloe Sevigny told me my acting experience was "cool". You may have my autograph. (I think Jena Malone was on set that day but I did not see her at lunch and, as I already mentioned, I was not assigned to the set myself.)
Once the windows were blacked out, the day went by in a fairly normal way. We stayed on call, ready to grab a C-stand or a light stand or a cable of some kind. My opportunities to get off my feet were limited to the occasional three or four minutes here and there. I got sore.
Around 2:00 a.m. the shoot wrapped for the night, and we spent the next two hours packing up everything. I won't detail it here. But by 4:00 a.m. I was very grateful to hear that I was free to go while the Key personnel did the last tidying up. I am by nature not an intrusive person, and figuring that they all wanted to get home as well, I did not bother anyone for a ride back to the parking lot. Each step (uphill) was quite painful, and once I was away from all the spotlights, I noticed that the sun was already coming up. A full night outdoors.
I could barely get my left leg into the car, and when I got out at home, the muscles that had been stiffening up during the 45-minute drive all complained loudly. They hurt even now, almost a full day later. I am so glad I did not have two of those workdays in a row.
I go back on Monday, location to be determined, and am looking forward to it.
Saturday, May 8, 2010
The Blog Less Traveled
Well, this blog has certainly been less traveled for a while now. My work on She Stoops to Conquer at Cascades Theatrical Company overwhelmed just about everything I had in life to do, and since the blogs rank as optional fun, they sank to the bottom of my list of obligations.
But the play is now over, I have had sufficient recovery time, and I can get rolling on a great many things again. Some of those things qualify as discussion for this blog, so stay tuned!
But the play is now over, I have had sufficient recovery time, and I can get rolling on a great many things again. Some of those things qualify as discussion for this blog, so stay tuned!
Sunday, April 4, 2010
The Director's Chair: April 2010
THE DIRECTOR'S CHAIR
April 2010
Greetings from the Motion Pictures Studios!
Apparently I switched over to a quarterly publication schedule and didn't know it, because it has been three months since I last wrote. (Had I held to that pathetic schedule at college, my parents probably would have cut off the funding.)
The dominant theme of this past quarter has been my opportunity to direct She Stoops to Conquer at our downtown community theater. Seven years ago I directed this play at the school where I taught, and it has been an equally exciting opportunity to recreate it with adults who are diving in with enthusiasm.
Auditions were in late February, and I got to choose from the largest crop I've ever seen turn out for a community theater production. In this town it is often a huge chore to get enough males, but I had more than enough of all types. I'm having a barrel of fun watching it all come together and getting to work with long-time friends while making new ones.
The show opens April 9 and runs until April 25 – so yes, we're down to the final week of rehearsals! I won't bore you with the sales pitch here; if you're in the area, you probably know where to find the details, and if you're not, you probably won't be coming to see it.
In the video world, paid labor has been slow but somehow I still have too much to do every day. I got to create the commercial for She Stoops to Conquer, which was a small but exciting opportunity. Most plays performed in town are still owned by agencies and the authors, so the theater is limited to a very bland commercial with narration over still photos. Since this play is 200 years old, we are free to use actual lines and scenes from it, so the commercial looks more like an active movie trailer.
I wrote a new cue for Mammon and the Archer, so that might actually get finished before the cast and crew die off! And I used portions of that video and script in an informal talk on writing screenplays at the Central Oregon Writers Guild in March – a group that was very receptive to my whirlwind introduction on crafting a movie script.
And as far as the focus of this newsletter is concerned, that's about it. I could throw in that I did think about finishing the Horatio screenplay, and even mentally came up with more elements I want in the climax and denouement. Once this play is over – Oh, who am I kidding?
All right, I must go and face April head-on. Say hi, don't be a stranger, drive carefully, hold the door for ladies, don't talk with your mouth full, practice what you preach, and always eat your vegetables.
April 2010
Greetings from the Motion Pictures Studios!
Apparently I switched over to a quarterly publication schedule and didn't know it, because it has been three months since I last wrote. (Had I held to that pathetic schedule at college, my parents probably would have cut off the funding.)
The dominant theme of this past quarter has been my opportunity to direct She Stoops to Conquer at our downtown community theater. Seven years ago I directed this play at the school where I taught, and it has been an equally exciting opportunity to recreate it with adults who are diving in with enthusiasm.
Auditions were in late February, and I got to choose from the largest crop I've ever seen turn out for a community theater production. In this town it is often a huge chore to get enough males, but I had more than enough of all types. I'm having a barrel of fun watching it all come together and getting to work with long-time friends while making new ones.
The show opens April 9 and runs until April 25 – so yes, we're down to the final week of rehearsals! I won't bore you with the sales pitch here; if you're in the area, you probably know where to find the details, and if you're not, you probably won't be coming to see it.
In the video world, paid labor has been slow but somehow I still have too much to do every day. I got to create the commercial for She Stoops to Conquer, which was a small but exciting opportunity. Most plays performed in town are still owned by agencies and the authors, so the theater is limited to a very bland commercial with narration over still photos. Since this play is 200 years old, we are free to use actual lines and scenes from it, so the commercial looks more like an active movie trailer.
I wrote a new cue for Mammon and the Archer, so that might actually get finished before the cast and crew die off! And I used portions of that video and script in an informal talk on writing screenplays at the Central Oregon Writers Guild in March – a group that was very receptive to my whirlwind introduction on crafting a movie script.
And as far as the focus of this newsletter is concerned, that's about it. I could throw in that I did think about finishing the Horatio screenplay, and even mentally came up with more elements I want in the climax and denouement. Once this play is over – Oh, who am I kidding?
All right, I must go and face April head-on. Say hi, don't be a stranger, drive carefully, hold the door for ladies, don't talk with your mouth full, practice what you preach, and always eat your vegetables.
Friday, March 26, 2010
Mammon and the Archer: That Much Closer
Well, I did not have all of the music ready for showing Mammon and the Archer at the Writers' Guild, but that's fine because there was not time for showing the whole thing and talking about it anyway.
It is, however, that much closer to being done, and once this week is over, I should actually have some more breathing room for the project. But then, I've been saying that for 104 weeks, so we'll have to wait and see.
It is, however, that much closer to being done, and once this week is over, I should actually have some more breathing room for the project. But then, I've been saying that for 104 weeks, so we'll have to wait and see.
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