DAY 28 - August 22, 2008
Thank God It's Friday.
J.D. and I got the absolute last scene required for the main shoot. In this scene, J.D. arrives at a warehouse determined to find out what's inside.
This is another mystery location – J.D. found it, so I don't remember where it was or who owned it. We just knew that it would be closed, so we would be able to run around filming without anyone noticing.
For dramatic effect, I had J.D. hold the camera for a couple of takes, pointed at himself as he walks. Only in the age of lightweight digital cameras would it have been possible to get this kind of shot in a feature film, and it looked great.
And with that, principal photography was done. I don't know what J.D. did with that blue shirt he'd been wearing through most of the shoot, though I vaguely recall him making some joke about burning it. Or maybe I was the one who made the joke.
The two months of filming had been punishing. I'd gotten some great footage, and some footage that would take a lot of work to salvage. I'd had dramatic scenes transform into comedy in the hands of the actors, and I'd had comedic scenes that the actors imbued with unexpected dramatic power. I'd had scenes that came off pretty much as planned, and I'd had scenes that had to be cobbled together out of quick thinking in order to replace what was originally in the script. This was the most epic production I'd ever pulled off, and the romance of being an indie filmmaker had been sorely tested.
Many filmmakers my age and younger seem inclined to keep it very simple, and to pursue the Clerks / Reservoir Dogs model – one main location and a small cast. My blessing and my curse is that I've always dreamed big. As a sci-fi fan, I was always more interested in quests and adventures. That's the kind of storytelling that inspired me to become a filmmaker.
Maybe I'm more aligned with the 60s/70s generation of filmmakers in that regard. They made epics – ensemble dramas, period war films, existential Westerns, psychedelic road movies. They were worldly and literate, and had frames of reference other than pop culture. They had big things to say and wanted to expand the minds of the audience. They weren't crippled by self-pity, passivity and cynicism as so many Gen-Xers seem to be.
So I'd filmed the movie I wanted to make. All I had to do now was edit ...
Showing posts with label 25 months ago. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 25 months ago. Show all posts
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Sunday, September 19, 2010
25 Months Ago: Day 27
DAY 27 - August 19, 2008
There is a pivotal scene in Saberfrog that I will only describe as a dream sequence. It features Josh (played by J.D.) and Terrance (played by Reuben) as sci-fi characters in an apocalyptic environment.
Originally, I had planned to film the two actors on a greenscreen, and to create their environment using animation. However, I eventually realized that this would require not only finding and/or building a greenscreen, but also having costumes made for the actors and choreographing an action sequence. Therefore – and I don't remember when I committed to this decision – I chose to depict the scene entirely through animation.
All I needed from J.D. and Reuben, then, was their voices. So I postponed recording this material until very near the end of principal photography. Once again, John Sindoni provided his home as a recording location.
Somehow, it was while recording this scene, as I attempted to convey to the actors what the scene was about and what kinds of emotions they needed to provide, that it fully sunk in for me what a strange script this was.
My plan from the beginning had been to record the scenes with the most actors first, and then get individual actors' scenes completed so that I could set people “free” and be working with fewer and fewer actors as the shoot progressed. This aspect of the shoot had been a success. I was now finished with Reuben's scenes, and indeed the scenes with almost all of the major actors.
After this, J.D. and I went off to shoot another payphone scene – this one taking place at night, as J.D.'s character stops to call for directions. We used a payphone at some gas station that J.D. had identified as a suitable location – I don't remember where. Maybe someone watching the finished film will recognize it. It was in Monroe County – I'm pretty sure of that much, but otherwise I have no idea.
Then we got some shots of J.D.'s car pulling off the road, which we filmed by stopping in an unlit, pitch-black section of road so that I could get out and film J.D. pulling the van over. Remember when I said that I'd filmed this on Day 21? Well, judging by the footage logs it was actually part of the payphone-at-night shoot. My bad.
All that remained now was a short sequence requiring only J.D, and some offscreen characters heard only on the telephone or as TV narrators. The latter could be recorded anytime, by anyone, so my goal now was just to finish one scenes with J.D., and the main shoot would be complete.
There is a pivotal scene in Saberfrog that I will only describe as a dream sequence. It features Josh (played by J.D.) and Terrance (played by Reuben) as sci-fi characters in an apocalyptic environment.
Originally, I had planned to film the two actors on a greenscreen, and to create their environment using animation. However, I eventually realized that this would require not only finding and/or building a greenscreen, but also having costumes made for the actors and choreographing an action sequence. Therefore – and I don't remember when I committed to this decision – I chose to depict the scene entirely through animation.
All I needed from J.D. and Reuben, then, was their voices. So I postponed recording this material until very near the end of principal photography. Once again, John Sindoni provided his home as a recording location.
Somehow, it was while recording this scene, as I attempted to convey to the actors what the scene was about and what kinds of emotions they needed to provide, that it fully sunk in for me what a strange script this was.
My plan from the beginning had been to record the scenes with the most actors first, and then get individual actors' scenes completed so that I could set people “free” and be working with fewer and fewer actors as the shoot progressed. This aspect of the shoot had been a success. I was now finished with Reuben's scenes, and indeed the scenes with almost all of the major actors.
After this, J.D. and I went off to shoot another payphone scene – this one taking place at night, as J.D.'s character stops to call for directions. We used a payphone at some gas station that J.D. had identified as a suitable location – I don't remember where. Maybe someone watching the finished film will recognize it. It was in Monroe County – I'm pretty sure of that much, but otherwise I have no idea.
Then we got some shots of J.D.'s car pulling off the road, which we filmed by stopping in an unlit, pitch-black section of road so that I could get out and film J.D. pulling the van over. Remember when I said that I'd filmed this on Day 21? Well, judging by the footage logs it was actually part of the payphone-at-night shoot. My bad.
All that remained now was a short sequence requiring only J.D, and some offscreen characters heard only on the telephone or as TV narrators. The latter could be recorded anytime, by anyone, so my goal now was just to finish one scenes with J.D., and the main shoot would be complete.
Saturday, September 18, 2010
25 Months Ago: Day 26
DAY 26 - August 18, 2008
While searching for a suitable locale for the cafe scene (which we shot back on Day 9), I learned that one Rochester cafe, Equal=Grounds, was closed on Mondays. It later occurred to me that this would therefore be an ideal time and place to shoot a scene of Liz and Reuben's characters, Laurel and Terrance, having an argument outside – since this cafe was closed, we wouldn't be in anyone's way.
This scene wasn't absolutely essential to the plot, but it was a good character moment between Laurel and Terrance and I was glad to be able to film it. The scene didn't appear in earlier drafts, but I added it after feedback from blogger John Nolte, who I met at a film festival; after reviewing the script, he felt that there was a lack of conflict in the story at this point, so I wrote this scene establishing Terrance's resistance to the epic quest that he's been dragged into.
There was no lack of traffic at the corner where we were filming, which caused some sound problems. We were losing light as well. Nonetheless, we got the scene done.
After this, I got a quick audio-only line reading from Liz for an earlier scene, to fill a missing gap in the Day 17 shoot. In that scene, Laurel is asked to join the quest, and she gets excited … and leaves. I had Liz record a line (which would be dubbed over the scene) saying “I'll get my stuff.”
(Oddly, this parallels a scene in The Muppet Movie, one of this film's influences. Kermit and Fozzie ask Miss Piggy to join them on their journey to Hollywood. She gets worked up emotionally, and suddenly runs away. Baffled, Kermit and Fozzie shrug and go on their way … not realizing that Miss Piggy had gone to pack her suitcase.)
With this line recorded, and the argument scene filmed, all of Liz's scenes in the movie were now completed. Of the lead actors, only J.D. and Reuben had scenes still to film.
The end was in sight.
While searching for a suitable locale for the cafe scene (which we shot back on Day 9), I learned that one Rochester cafe, Equal=Grounds, was closed on Mondays. It later occurred to me that this would therefore be an ideal time and place to shoot a scene of Liz and Reuben's characters, Laurel and Terrance, having an argument outside – since this cafe was closed, we wouldn't be in anyone's way.
This scene wasn't absolutely essential to the plot, but it was a good character moment between Laurel and Terrance and I was glad to be able to film it. The scene didn't appear in earlier drafts, but I added it after feedback from blogger John Nolte, who I met at a film festival; after reviewing the script, he felt that there was a lack of conflict in the story at this point, so I wrote this scene establishing Terrance's resistance to the epic quest that he's been dragged into.
There was no lack of traffic at the corner where we were filming, which caused some sound problems. We were losing light as well. Nonetheless, we got the scene done.
After this, I got a quick audio-only line reading from Liz for an earlier scene, to fill a missing gap in the Day 17 shoot. In that scene, Laurel is asked to join the quest, and she gets excited … and leaves. I had Liz record a line (which would be dubbed over the scene) saying “I'll get my stuff.”
(Oddly, this parallels a scene in The Muppet Movie, one of this film's influences. Kermit and Fozzie ask Miss Piggy to join them on their journey to Hollywood. She gets worked up emotionally, and suddenly runs away. Baffled, Kermit and Fozzie shrug and go on their way … not realizing that Miss Piggy had gone to pack her suitcase.)
With this line recorded, and the argument scene filmed, all of Liz's scenes in the movie were now completed. Of the lead actors, only J.D. and Reuben had scenes still to film.
The end was in sight.
Friday, September 17, 2010
25 Months Ago: Day 25
DAY 25 - August 17, 2008
Today we filmed another scene using Dana and Fran's house as a location. This was a flashback scene featuring a character who is pivotal to the entire story, but who only appears in this one scene and thus had gone uncast for the duration of the shoot until the previous Thursday, when I pitched the role to actress Mary Criddle.
I'd met Mary recently at a filmmakers' group meeting, and decided she would be a good fit for the character, so over coffee at Spot Cafe I explained the character as best I could, and gave her a copy of her lines.
I know that this particular character must have been difficult to make sense of without the context of the complete script, but Mary gave it her all. She'd put some care into selecting her wardrobe, and had even grayed her hair so that she would look closer to the intended age of the character.
Mary brought the required serenity and gravitas to the character, intended to contrast with the craziness and immaturity of most other characters in the film. Of course, I've since seen Mary in several other local films in which she plays much more over-the-top characters, so now even this scene looks comically skewed to me.
I remember being a bit anxious shooting this scene, at least at first. I knew that my energy and enthusiasm for this movie was by now dipping dangerously low, but this was an important scene and it couldn't be done in a half-assed manner. Fortunately, I hit upon what seemed to me a suitably artistic way of shooting the scene.
Because this scene represented another character's memory, I staged the scene so that this other character (I'm not saying who) was only visible in a mirror. It was also helped to make a somewhat exposition-heavy scene a little more visually interesting.
Almost done...
Today we filmed another scene using Dana and Fran's house as a location. This was a flashback scene featuring a character who is pivotal to the entire story, but who only appears in this one scene and thus had gone uncast for the duration of the shoot until the previous Thursday, when I pitched the role to actress Mary Criddle.
I'd met Mary recently at a filmmakers' group meeting, and decided she would be a good fit for the character, so over coffee at Spot Cafe I explained the character as best I could, and gave her a copy of her lines.
I know that this particular character must have been difficult to make sense of without the context of the complete script, but Mary gave it her all. She'd put some care into selecting her wardrobe, and had even grayed her hair so that she would look closer to the intended age of the character.
Mary brought the required serenity and gravitas to the character, intended to contrast with the craziness and immaturity of most other characters in the film. Of course, I've since seen Mary in several other local films in which she plays much more over-the-top characters, so now even this scene looks comically skewed to me.
I remember being a bit anxious shooting this scene, at least at first. I knew that my energy and enthusiasm for this movie was by now dipping dangerously low, but this was an important scene and it couldn't be done in a half-assed manner. Fortunately, I hit upon what seemed to me a suitably artistic way of shooting the scene.
Because this scene represented another character's memory, I staged the scene so that this other character (I'm not saying who) was only visible in a mirror. It was also helped to make a somewhat exposition-heavy scene a little more visually interesting.
Almost done...
Thursday, September 16, 2010
25 Months Ago: Day 24
DAY 24 - August 16, 2008
“Making a film is like a stagecoach ride in the Old West. When you start, you are hoping for a pleasant trip. By the halfway point, you just hope to survive.”
That's a semi-famous quote from French director/actor Francois Truffaut, in his 1973 film Day for Night. It's a good thing I went online to verify the exact quote (or as exact as a quote translated from French into English can be), because in my memory it had metamorphosed into the following:
“At the start of filming, every director wants to make the greatest film ever made. Halfway through, you just want to finish the damn thing.”
Well, if Frankie-boy didn't actually say that, then I must have created it without knowing. In any case, it's pretty close to how I was feeling about Saberfrog.
Today was a Saturday. On the previous Wednesday I had sent out a revised schedule with several cuts made to it. Terrance's backstory was to be simplified, some other early character/expository stuff was gone for good, and today I was once again cramming several still-needed scenes into one day.
First up was a scene on campus between J.D. and Wendy. We didn't film it on Day 8 (when we were at UB) because at that time I cared mainly about getting the shots that had Karyus in them, so I had put off that section until today.
We went to a small, quiet corner of the SUNY Brockport campus (where I'd taken classes many years earlier), which seemed to match the Buffalo campus well enough. In theory, shooting this scene should have been simple, but it ended up being a tough shoot for a couple of reasons.
In the script, J.D. and Wendy were supposed to run across campus. But since the original shoot on Day 8 had subjected the cast to the hot sun, I thought it would be easier on the actors – and more visually interesting – to stage the scene in a stairwell, where there was shade. It didn't occur to me that making J.D. and Wendy climb a flight of stairs multiple times (so I could get different takes and angles) would be physically punishing.
To make matters worse, Wendy's shoulder bag – which we left outside, thinking it would be safe because school was out and there wasn't a soul around – disappeared mysteriously between takes. Wendy was horrified, and I felt miserable because this damn movie was the reason why we were out here in the first place. Fortunately, it hadn't been stolen after all – some Good Samaritan had seen it lying out in the open and moved it to a sheltered spot. But we were all shaken.
To cap it all off, J.D. badly needed to use the bathroom by the end of this shoot, but we couldn't find a bathroom that wasn't locked. I should have thought of this, but I didn't, so J.D. was still in this unhappy state when the morning shoot completed.
All in all, this was the one shoot that made me feel like an absolute bastard. The only way this shoot could have been any more uncomfortable for the actors was if one of them had been injured in some way.
We went our separate ways after this shoot, and J.D. and I met up again later that afternoon, at a party for Tom's daughter.
I'm not 100 percent sure, but I think that this same day is when J.D., Wendy and I filmed the one remaining scene between them. This was a fairly complex scene in the script, and would have required supporting actors, access to someone's apartment to use as a location, and a couple of special effects. By today I had scrapped that version and changed it to a simple one-on-one outdoor dialogue scene, which we filmed behind the Village Gate plaza in Rochester.
Despite some noise from a teenage skateboarder in the area, we got the scene done and thus completed all of Wendy's scenes in the film. Amusingly, on the way to the location we bumped into Jen Avila, who'd been an extra during the Day 2 shoot. She'd been there at the beginning of filming, and here she was again as we were nearing the end.
In the evening, J.D. and I met up with Reuben at a Subway restaurant in Spencerport, and from here we hit the road to film a driving scene. As I've said before, the long summer days make night shoots a challenge, and waiting for the sky to be pitch-black would have meant keeping the actors up very late for shooting. Rather than force the actors into a vampiric shooting schedule, I opted to start filming when the sky was almost-but-not-quite dark (and in the finished film there are shots were this is noticeable if you look for it).
After this, we parked to film another brief scene between J.D. and Reuben. And with that, the day's – or night's – filming was done.
“Making a film is like a stagecoach ride in the Old West. When you start, you are hoping for a pleasant trip. By the halfway point, you just hope to survive.”
That's a semi-famous quote from French director/actor Francois Truffaut, in his 1973 film Day for Night. It's a good thing I went online to verify the exact quote (or as exact as a quote translated from French into English can be), because in my memory it had metamorphosed into the following:
“At the start of filming, every director wants to make the greatest film ever made. Halfway through, you just want to finish the damn thing.”
Well, if Frankie-boy didn't actually say that, then I must have created it without knowing. In any case, it's pretty close to how I was feeling about Saberfrog.
Today was a Saturday. On the previous Wednesday I had sent out a revised schedule with several cuts made to it. Terrance's backstory was to be simplified, some other early character/expository stuff was gone for good, and today I was once again cramming several still-needed scenes into one day.
First up was a scene on campus between J.D. and Wendy. We didn't film it on Day 8 (when we were at UB) because at that time I cared mainly about getting the shots that had Karyus in them, so I had put off that section until today.
We went to a small, quiet corner of the SUNY Brockport campus (where I'd taken classes many years earlier), which seemed to match the Buffalo campus well enough. In theory, shooting this scene should have been simple, but it ended up being a tough shoot for a couple of reasons.
In the script, J.D. and Wendy were supposed to run across campus. But since the original shoot on Day 8 had subjected the cast to the hot sun, I thought it would be easier on the actors – and more visually interesting – to stage the scene in a stairwell, where there was shade. It didn't occur to me that making J.D. and Wendy climb a flight of stairs multiple times (so I could get different takes and angles) would be physically punishing.
To make matters worse, Wendy's shoulder bag – which we left outside, thinking it would be safe because school was out and there wasn't a soul around – disappeared mysteriously between takes. Wendy was horrified, and I felt miserable because this damn movie was the reason why we were out here in the first place. Fortunately, it hadn't been stolen after all – some Good Samaritan had seen it lying out in the open and moved it to a sheltered spot. But we were all shaken.
To cap it all off, J.D. badly needed to use the bathroom by the end of this shoot, but we couldn't find a bathroom that wasn't locked. I should have thought of this, but I didn't, so J.D. was still in this unhappy state when the morning shoot completed.
All in all, this was the one shoot that made me feel like an absolute bastard. The only way this shoot could have been any more uncomfortable for the actors was if one of them had been injured in some way.
We went our separate ways after this shoot, and J.D. and I met up again later that afternoon, at a party for Tom's daughter.
I'm not 100 percent sure, but I think that this same day is when J.D., Wendy and I filmed the one remaining scene between them. This was a fairly complex scene in the script, and would have required supporting actors, access to someone's apartment to use as a location, and a couple of special effects. By today I had scrapped that version and changed it to a simple one-on-one outdoor dialogue scene, which we filmed behind the Village Gate plaza in Rochester.
Despite some noise from a teenage skateboarder in the area, we got the scene done and thus completed all of Wendy's scenes in the film. Amusingly, on the way to the location we bumped into Jen Avila, who'd been an extra during the Day 2 shoot. She'd been there at the beginning of filming, and here she was again as we were nearing the end.
In the evening, J.D. and I met up with Reuben at a Subway restaurant in Spencerport, and from here we hit the road to film a driving scene. As I've said before, the long summer days make night shoots a challenge, and waiting for the sky to be pitch-black would have meant keeping the actors up very late for shooting. Rather than force the actors into a vampiric shooting schedule, I opted to start filming when the sky was almost-but-not-quite dark (and in the finished film there are shots were this is noticeable if you look for it).
After this, we parked to film another brief scene between J.D. and Reuben. And with that, the day's – or night's – filming was done.
Sunday, September 12, 2010
25 Months Ago: Day 23
DAY 23 – August 12, 2008
Today's shoot must have been a spur-of-the-moment thing, because I have no written or emailed record of scheduling it. In fact, I'm not even 100% sure that today (Tuesday) was the day we shot this scene; the date on a receipt for some tin foil is my only concrete evidence that this was the day we filmed it.
Anyway, the scene featured J.D. at a payphone, and the aforementioned tin foil was for covering up the company name on the payphone in a token attempt at respecting trademark law.
In the shooting script Josh, upon losing his job, breaks the news to his stepmom from a payphone – because his cel phone belonged to the company – but she refuses to take him in. The purpose of this scene was to explain that Josh has no family to fall back on, and no contact with the world while on the road. These explanations seemed necessary to me in order to set a 60s/70s-style, finding-yourself road movie convincingly in the ultra-wired present day. The payphone scene was to be followed by the sci-fi convention scene I've mentioned before, in which an already-dejected Josh learns of his favorite author's death, which is the catalyst that finally sends him on his quest.
By this point I had officially given up on my beloved sci-fi convention scene, and decided to combine both scenes into one: Josh calls his stepmom from the payphone, and she mentions that his favorite author has died. This revised scene was never actually written down – J.D. and I worked it out as an improvised replacement, with J.D. adlibbing some lines to deliver to his unseen (and nonexistent, or at least not yet cast) costar.
This shoot was as basic as it gets. No tripod, no boom pole (the on-camera mic recorded the audio). I didn't want to attract attention. I just wanted us to get the shots and get out of there. I got two angles of the scene so that I had freedom to cut. Then we bolted.
Another early expository scene that I'd probably abandoned by this point showed Josh's pathetic home life, in which we meet his college-age roommate. One of my influences for this movie was the Peter Sellers film Being There, in which Sellers' character's old life disappears out from under him and, with nothing to do and nowhere to go, he heads out to explore the world. With my exposition scenes cut to the bone, I found myself making something more fast-paced and plot-driven than the meandering indie comedy-drama I'd planned to make.
But now there's no explanation for why Josh has no cell phone. I don't think anyone cares anyway.
Today's shoot must have been a spur-of-the-moment thing, because I have no written or emailed record of scheduling it. In fact, I'm not even 100% sure that today (Tuesday) was the day we shot this scene; the date on a receipt for some tin foil is my only concrete evidence that this was the day we filmed it.
Anyway, the scene featured J.D. at a payphone, and the aforementioned tin foil was for covering up the company name on the payphone in a token attempt at respecting trademark law.
In the shooting script Josh, upon losing his job, breaks the news to his stepmom from a payphone – because his cel phone belonged to the company – but she refuses to take him in. The purpose of this scene was to explain that Josh has no family to fall back on, and no contact with the world while on the road. These explanations seemed necessary to me in order to set a 60s/70s-style, finding-yourself road movie convincingly in the ultra-wired present day. The payphone scene was to be followed by the sci-fi convention scene I've mentioned before, in which an already-dejected Josh learns of his favorite author's death, which is the catalyst that finally sends him on his quest.
By this point I had officially given up on my beloved sci-fi convention scene, and decided to combine both scenes into one: Josh calls his stepmom from the payphone, and she mentions that his favorite author has died. This revised scene was never actually written down – J.D. and I worked it out as an improvised replacement, with J.D. adlibbing some lines to deliver to his unseen (and nonexistent, or at least not yet cast) costar.
This shoot was as basic as it gets. No tripod, no boom pole (the on-camera mic recorded the audio). I didn't want to attract attention. I just wanted us to get the shots and get out of there. I got two angles of the scene so that I had freedom to cut. Then we bolted.
Another early expository scene that I'd probably abandoned by this point showed Josh's pathetic home life, in which we meet his college-age roommate. One of my influences for this movie was the Peter Sellers film Being There, in which Sellers' character's old life disappears out from under him and, with nothing to do and nowhere to go, he heads out to explore the world. With my exposition scenes cut to the bone, I found myself making something more fast-paced and plot-driven than the meandering indie comedy-drama I'd planned to make.
But now there's no explanation for why Josh has no cell phone. I don't think anyone cares anyway.
Thursday, September 9, 2010
25 Months Ago: Day 22
DAY 22 - August 9, 2008
A Saturday, and by my reckoning one of the most packed days of shooting.
Two days earlier I had sent out a revised schedule to the cast, announcing that only 33 pages – about a quarter of the script – remained to be filmed. This included an early scene in which Josh stops at a truckstop diner and starts to befriend a waitress, but kills the mood by going into a fanboy tirade. This was to be filmed on August 10, and the previously-mentioned sci-fi convention scene was scheduled for August 16.
By today I must have given up on the diner scene, which would have been a nice character moment for Josh but was not essential to the plot. I don't remember when I abandoned the sci-fi convention scene, which was an essential exposition scene in the shooting script but needed to be replaced with something simpler.
The day before today, I'd had lunch with my mom and sister in memory of Dad, who had passed away one year ago. I was feeling like Josh, a once-carefree guy now worn down by the pain of adulthood. The strain of keeping this production going while holding down a technically demanding day job was taking its toll. But I was determined to finish what I'd started.
Sean Sherman, who'd pitched in on previous days as an actor and crewmember, made a final contribution to the main shoot by providing the location for a scene in which Josh attempts – unsuccessfully – to get himself hired by a temp agency. Val Perkins, a former RIT classmate of mine, played Josh's would-be employer. Val did a great job, despite only being given her lines the day before – I really must have been running on empty at this point.
J.D. and I then went off to Pittsford so that I could reshoot some of his monologue from Day 17. During that shoot, J.D. said that he thought we had skipped over a section of the speech, but I thought we had gotten it all, until I later reviewed the footage and discovered that he had been right. So we stopped at a park that looked vaguely like the original location (which had been in Buffalo) in order to shoot the missing section.
I don't actually remember shooting that on the same day as the temp agency scene. Nor do I remember shooting a brief outdoor scene of Wendy storming out of the office on the same day. But I guess I did.
And I really don't remember concluding this already-full day with a night shoot out in Buffalo. But apparently I filmed not one, not two, but three scenes that night, all at Liz's home. She was renting a room from her friend Roberto Petrilli, who'd played a professor in previous scenes. I drove Reuben – and, I feel sure, Wendy – out to Buffalo for this shoot.
We first shot a scene in Liz's bedroom between Liz and Wendy. It was raining a bit when we shot this, which made me worry about the sound, but fortunately the mic didn't seem to be picking up any rain noise.
We then shot two pivotal scenes with Liz and Reuben, filmed in Roberto's living room. These two scenes took place months or years apart, and I was concerned that – apart from costume changes – it might be obvious that they were shot back-to-back. To avoid this, I shot the two scenes in totally different styles. One was shot from low angles, using a tripod; and the other was shot handheld, using high angles.
The first scene had Liz's character saying to Reuben's character, “Where have you been?” and I couldn't resist saying on set, “Where have you been, Reuben? Steuben County?” Amazingly, Reuben was still willing to work with me after this. Seriously, though, this scene marked a point when the tone of the film changed from comedy to drama, and I remember having to spend more time than usual explaining to the actors what kind of tone was needed, and how it related to the scenes that came before and after.
The second scene was an argument scene that required far less coaching. Liz and Reuben performed brilliantly, delivering three complete, unbroken takes of the entire scene. I filmed the scene with a constantly-moving camera, being sure to shoot the scene slightly differently on each take. This allowed me to cut among the different takes in the finished film.
It was something like 1 a.m. when I got Reuben home from this shoot, and I remember feeling a bit guilty about that. I must have been relieved, though, to be so much closer to the completion of shooting after today.
A Saturday, and by my reckoning one of the most packed days of shooting.
Two days earlier I had sent out a revised schedule to the cast, announcing that only 33 pages – about a quarter of the script – remained to be filmed. This included an early scene in which Josh stops at a truckstop diner and starts to befriend a waitress, but kills the mood by going into a fanboy tirade. This was to be filmed on August 10, and the previously-mentioned sci-fi convention scene was scheduled for August 16.
By today I must have given up on the diner scene, which would have been a nice character moment for Josh but was not essential to the plot. I don't remember when I abandoned the sci-fi convention scene, which was an essential exposition scene in the shooting script but needed to be replaced with something simpler.
The day before today, I'd had lunch with my mom and sister in memory of Dad, who had passed away one year ago. I was feeling like Josh, a once-carefree guy now worn down by the pain of adulthood. The strain of keeping this production going while holding down a technically demanding day job was taking its toll. But I was determined to finish what I'd started.
Sean Sherman, who'd pitched in on previous days as an actor and crewmember, made a final contribution to the main shoot by providing the location for a scene in which Josh attempts – unsuccessfully – to get himself hired by a temp agency. Val Perkins, a former RIT classmate of mine, played Josh's would-be employer. Val did a great job, despite only being given her lines the day before – I really must have been running on empty at this point.
J.D. and I then went off to Pittsford so that I could reshoot some of his monologue from Day 17. During that shoot, J.D. said that he thought we had skipped over a section of the speech, but I thought we had gotten it all, until I later reviewed the footage and discovered that he had been right. So we stopped at a park that looked vaguely like the original location (which had been in Buffalo) in order to shoot the missing section.
I don't actually remember shooting that on the same day as the temp agency scene. Nor do I remember shooting a brief outdoor scene of Wendy storming out of the office on the same day. But I guess I did.
And I really don't remember concluding this already-full day with a night shoot out in Buffalo. But apparently I filmed not one, not two, but three scenes that night, all at Liz's home. She was renting a room from her friend Roberto Petrilli, who'd played a professor in previous scenes. I drove Reuben – and, I feel sure, Wendy – out to Buffalo for this shoot.
We first shot a scene in Liz's bedroom between Liz and Wendy. It was raining a bit when we shot this, which made me worry about the sound, but fortunately the mic didn't seem to be picking up any rain noise.
We then shot two pivotal scenes with Liz and Reuben, filmed in Roberto's living room. These two scenes took place months or years apart, and I was concerned that – apart from costume changes – it might be obvious that they were shot back-to-back. To avoid this, I shot the two scenes in totally different styles. One was shot from low angles, using a tripod; and the other was shot handheld, using high angles.
The first scene had Liz's character saying to Reuben's character, “Where have you been?” and I couldn't resist saying on set, “Where have you been, Reuben? Steuben County?” Amazingly, Reuben was still willing to work with me after this. Seriously, though, this scene marked a point when the tone of the film changed from comedy to drama, and I remember having to spend more time than usual explaining to the actors what kind of tone was needed, and how it related to the scenes that came before and after.
The second scene was an argument scene that required far less coaching. Liz and Reuben performed brilliantly, delivering three complete, unbroken takes of the entire scene. I filmed the scene with a constantly-moving camera, being sure to shoot the scene slightly differently on each take. This allowed me to cut among the different takes in the finished film.
It was something like 1 a.m. when I got Reuben home from this shoot, and I remember feeling a bit guilty about that. I must have been relieved, though, to be so much closer to the completion of shooting after today.
Monday, September 6, 2010
25 Months Ago: Day 21
DAY 21 - August 6, 2008
Wednesday night. A relatively short shoot that began with J.D. and I meeting up at Lugia's, an ice cream stand in Spencerport.
I left my car at the Lugia's parking lot, and J.D. and I went back and forth along Route 531 to get some nighttime shots of J.D.'s character, Josh, driving. As before, J.D. drove while I filmed him from various angles.
As I recall, J.D. only had a couple scripted lines of dialogue here, in which he spoke to the unseen voices that were urging him on.
There was still a nighttime driving scene between J.D. and Reuben that needed to be filmed, and I had J.D. ad-lib some lines to a non-present Reuben just in case the latter scene proved impossible to shoot for some reason.
We also stopped in an unlit, pitch-black section of Route 531 so that I could stand by the side of the road and film J.D. pulling the van over.
Apart from that, I don't remember a hell of a lot about this shoot, perhaps because there wasn't a hell of a lot to remember. It was relatively simple.
The next shoot would be a lot busier.
Wednesday night. A relatively short shoot that began with J.D. and I meeting up at Lugia's, an ice cream stand in Spencerport.
I left my car at the Lugia's parking lot, and J.D. and I went back and forth along Route 531 to get some nighttime shots of J.D.'s character, Josh, driving. As before, J.D. drove while I filmed him from various angles.
As I recall, J.D. only had a couple scripted lines of dialogue here, in which he spoke to the unseen voices that were urging him on.
There was still a nighttime driving scene between J.D. and Reuben that needed to be filmed, and I had J.D. ad-lib some lines to a non-present Reuben just in case the latter scene proved impossible to shoot for some reason.
We also stopped in an unlit, pitch-black section of Route 531 so that I could stand by the side of the road and film J.D. pulling the van over.
Apart from that, I don't remember a hell of a lot about this shoot, perhaps because there wasn't a hell of a lot to remember. It was relatively simple.
The next shoot would be a lot busier.
Thursday, September 2, 2010
25 Months Ago: Day 20
DAY 20 - August 2, 2008
John Sindoni, who played Professor Garrison, was always very enthusiastic about Saberfrog. And today, that enthusiasm extended to letting us use his house as a filming location.
Today was a Saturday, and we filmed a dialogue scene between John S. and Wendy. I also recorded some voice-only lines from John S.
While shooting the scene between John S. and Wendy I discovered, to my disappointment, that the Sony ECM-K57 microphone I'd been using for the past decade or so was failing. It still worked fine in omnidirectional mode, but when the directional setting – which you really want to use when recording dialogue – was in use, I was hearing some kind of hum.
(In fact, this fault must have developed earlier, because I can hear this hum, buried in the background noise, in footage dating as far back as Day 8, though fortunately it doesn't seem to be that noticeable.)
This particular microphone – which is no longer made as far as I can determine – had served me faithfully on several projects. It ran on an ordinary AA battery, had a camcorder-friendly mini headphone plug rather than a XLR connection (removing the need for an adapter or mixer), and its tripod-sized screw hole attached easily onto a monopod to become a lightweight and easily assembled boom mic. It was the perfect tool for a low-budget narrative filmmaker shooting guerrilla-style with prosumer equipmment. And it was cheap – about $60 or thereabouts.
Nowadays, most prosumer mics I've seen in stores have non-standard bases that seem to be designed specifically to fit onto the head of a particular camcorder. To me this somewhat defeats the purpose of buying a microphone for your camera, since most camcorders already have an on-camera mic built in. As a low-budget filmmaker, what you really want is to get the mic away from the camera and closer to the actors.
I was still able to get decent sound out of this mic by switching to omnidirectional mode (meaning that the mic picks up sound equally in all directions, rather than what's directly in front of it). But I knew this would not be ideal for all acoustic situations, and it was both sad and frustrating to have such a useful piece of equipment start to fail on me.
I could have switched to another mic – I'd bought one to use for Liz's stage performance on Day 17 – but I was worried about changing the sound quality mid-shoot, so rightly or wrongly I chose to tough it out with this mic as long as I could, except when the acoustics absolutely required that I switch to a directional mic.
I took this as an omen that I needed to finish filming. Soon.
John Sindoni, who played Professor Garrison, was always very enthusiastic about Saberfrog. And today, that enthusiasm extended to letting us use his house as a filming location.
Today was a Saturday, and we filmed a dialogue scene between John S. and Wendy. I also recorded some voice-only lines from John S.
While shooting the scene between John S. and Wendy I discovered, to my disappointment, that the Sony ECM-K57 microphone I'd been using for the past decade or so was failing. It still worked fine in omnidirectional mode, but when the directional setting – which you really want to use when recording dialogue – was in use, I was hearing some kind of hum.
(In fact, this fault must have developed earlier, because I can hear this hum, buried in the background noise, in footage dating as far back as Day 8, though fortunately it doesn't seem to be that noticeable.)
This particular microphone – which is no longer made as far as I can determine – had served me faithfully on several projects. It ran on an ordinary AA battery, had a camcorder-friendly mini headphone plug rather than a XLR connection (removing the need for an adapter or mixer), and its tripod-sized screw hole attached easily onto a monopod to become a lightweight and easily assembled boom mic. It was the perfect tool for a low-budget narrative filmmaker shooting guerrilla-style with prosumer equipmment. And it was cheap – about $60 or thereabouts.
Nowadays, most prosumer mics I've seen in stores have non-standard bases that seem to be designed specifically to fit onto the head of a particular camcorder. To me this somewhat defeats the purpose of buying a microphone for your camera, since most camcorders already have an on-camera mic built in. As a low-budget filmmaker, what you really want is to get the mic away from the camera and closer to the actors.
I was still able to get decent sound out of this mic by switching to omnidirectional mode (meaning that the mic picks up sound equally in all directions, rather than what's directly in front of it). But I knew this would not be ideal for all acoustic situations, and it was both sad and frustrating to have such a useful piece of equipment start to fail on me.
I could have switched to another mic – I'd bought one to use for Liz's stage performance on Day 17 – but I was worried about changing the sound quality mid-shoot, so rightly or wrongly I chose to tough it out with this mic as long as I could, except when the acoustics absolutely required that I switch to a directional mic.
I took this as an omen that I needed to finish filming. Soon.
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
25 Months Ago: Day 19
DAY 19 - August 1, 2008
Friday night. Back to the Shadow Lounge, except that this time we were filming outside.
I'd had a bad day – or perhaps a bad week – at work, so apparently I wasn't in the best mood when I picked up Wendy before driving to Buffalo. Although Wendy was not needed on camera for this scene, she came along to help out.
Shadow Lounge was open to the public this time, so I filmed this scene handheld in order to minimize our presence on the street. Lightweight camcorders make handheld camerawork almost too easy, yet part of me is still slightly wary of filming without a tripod. I tend to go handheld only when there's a reason to stay light on my feet and keep moving – i.e. when time is short, the environment is awkward, or the scene is logistically complicated. I've always liked on-the-fly handheld camerawork in movies, particularly in indie films such as the French New Wave classic Breathless, and I'm generally pleased with the results when I try it in my own movies – it seems to encourage more adventurous and spontaneous camera angles. Yet I remember how sick people got (literally and figuratively) of shaky-cam indie films in the Blair Witch* era, so part of me is wary of pushing my luck. Sometimes the Godard/Truffaut approach will do, but sometimes you do need to be a little bit more Kubrick, if only to show that you do actually know how to make a movie properly.
John Reinbird and Ian Belknad were to reprise their roles as Liz's bandmates on this shoot, carrying their instruments as they leave a gig. But while John R. was able to make it, Ian had to cancel. Since this scene took place on a completely different day (and actually a different city), I reasoned that the lineup of Liz's band could be different, so Liz used the power of Craigslist to recruit someone else.
In fact, Liz overachieved in this regard – I had five extras show up, most of whom had even brought their own instruments to carry as props. Obviously this was far more than I needed, but rather than send them home I decided to have four of the extras portray another band walking out of the club with their instruments in tow.
The fifth extra, Adam Beaudoin, I selected as Ian's replacement on the grounds that he looked the most like Ian – on the off-chance that audiences wouldn't notice the difference. (In fact, no one who's seen the film has commented on the fact that Liz's band has changed drummers.)
Playing the band's former lead singer was Rob Suto, who had been an extra in the previous Shadow Lounge shoot and who struck me as the perfect choice for the role. Liz and Rob apparently didn't get along too well during the shoot, although I was too focused on making the movie to notice.
Rob, Adam and John R. all came up with some useful ad-libs. I seemed to be extremely lucky in the casting of this film – even bit-part actors were finding entertaining ways to embellish the script, without even being asked. I've thought about why this might have happened, and have two theories on the matter.
My first theory is based on the fact that this script had a complex structure, with numerous flashbacks and other short scenes, many of which end abruptly because we suddenly cut to another scene or another time period. Most of the bit-part actors had not been given the entire script, however – only their own scene, which often ended abruptly with a seeming lack of closure. So the actors may have felt that they needed to invent additional material in order to give the scene some kind of ending.
My second theory is that people nowadays are more media-savvy, and more eager to show off in front of a camera, than they might have been in years past. When I was making films during and after film school (back in the 90s and early 2000s), it sometimes seemed like a struggle to get performances out of people. Some people got it, and some people just seemed uncomfortable and awkward. But by the year 2008, the Internet and reality TV had gotten even non-actors accustomed to the idea of public self-expression. So now everybody's ready for their close-up.
During the drive home, Wendy told me that she'd seen my personality change during the shoot. When I first picked her up, I was in a foul mood. But by the end of the shoot, I was smiling and in high spirits, because I was doing what made me happiest – I was making a movie.
* Maybe I shouldn't admit this, but I named the main character Josh in honor of The Blair Witch Project, where approximately 60% of the dialogue was people yelling “Josh!”
Friday night. Back to the Shadow Lounge, except that this time we were filming outside.
I'd had a bad day – or perhaps a bad week – at work, so apparently I wasn't in the best mood when I picked up Wendy before driving to Buffalo. Although Wendy was not needed on camera for this scene, she came along to help out.
Shadow Lounge was open to the public this time, so I filmed this scene handheld in order to minimize our presence on the street. Lightweight camcorders make handheld camerawork almost too easy, yet part of me is still slightly wary of filming without a tripod. I tend to go handheld only when there's a reason to stay light on my feet and keep moving – i.e. when time is short, the environment is awkward, or the scene is logistically complicated. I've always liked on-the-fly handheld camerawork in movies, particularly in indie films such as the French New Wave classic Breathless, and I'm generally pleased with the results when I try it in my own movies – it seems to encourage more adventurous and spontaneous camera angles. Yet I remember how sick people got (literally and figuratively) of shaky-cam indie films in the Blair Witch* era, so part of me is wary of pushing my luck. Sometimes the Godard/Truffaut approach will do, but sometimes you do need to be a little bit more Kubrick, if only to show that you do actually know how to make a movie properly.
John Reinbird and Ian Belknad were to reprise their roles as Liz's bandmates on this shoot, carrying their instruments as they leave a gig. But while John R. was able to make it, Ian had to cancel. Since this scene took place on a completely different day (and actually a different city), I reasoned that the lineup of Liz's band could be different, so Liz used the power of Craigslist to recruit someone else.
In fact, Liz overachieved in this regard – I had five extras show up, most of whom had even brought their own instruments to carry as props. Obviously this was far more than I needed, but rather than send them home I decided to have four of the extras portray another band walking out of the club with their instruments in tow.
The fifth extra, Adam Beaudoin, I selected as Ian's replacement on the grounds that he looked the most like Ian – on the off-chance that audiences wouldn't notice the difference. (In fact, no one who's seen the film has commented on the fact that Liz's band has changed drummers.)
Playing the band's former lead singer was Rob Suto, who had been an extra in the previous Shadow Lounge shoot and who struck me as the perfect choice for the role. Liz and Rob apparently didn't get along too well during the shoot, although I was too focused on making the movie to notice.
Rob, Adam and John R. all came up with some useful ad-libs. I seemed to be extremely lucky in the casting of this film – even bit-part actors were finding entertaining ways to embellish the script, without even being asked. I've thought about why this might have happened, and have two theories on the matter.
My first theory is based on the fact that this script had a complex structure, with numerous flashbacks and other short scenes, many of which end abruptly because we suddenly cut to another scene or another time period. Most of the bit-part actors had not been given the entire script, however – only their own scene, which often ended abruptly with a seeming lack of closure. So the actors may have felt that they needed to invent additional material in order to give the scene some kind of ending.
My second theory is that people nowadays are more media-savvy, and more eager to show off in front of a camera, than they might have been in years past. When I was making films during and after film school (back in the 90s and early 2000s), it sometimes seemed like a struggle to get performances out of people. Some people got it, and some people just seemed uncomfortable and awkward. But by the year 2008, the Internet and reality TV had gotten even non-actors accustomed to the idea of public self-expression. So now everybody's ready for their close-up.
During the drive home, Wendy told me that she'd seen my personality change during the shoot. When I first picked her up, I was in a foul mood. But by the end of the shoot, I was smiling and in high spirits, because I was doing what made me happiest – I was making a movie.
* Maybe I shouldn't admit this, but I named the main character Josh in honor of The Blair Witch Project, where approximately 60% of the dialogue was people yelling “Josh!”
Saturday, August 28, 2010
25 Months Ago: Day 18
DAY 18 - July 28, 2008
Today – a Monday night – we shot another of the most important scenes, in which J.D. and Reuben reunite for the first time in years. Diane Conway once again played the wife of Reuben's character, and Wendy provided some props.
This scene was shot at Dana and Fran's house, as they had generously given permission to use their living room to film. I relied on source lighting for this scene, which is a fancy showbiz way of saying that we used lights which were actually there in the room. (As on Saturday, I chose to rely on available light sources because I was concerned about the amount of money I'd spent so far on this project, so even the relatively small expense of another lighting kit rental seemed like something to avoid.)
Due to the long summer days, a portion of the scene in which Reuben opens the front door had to be saved for last, since the scene is supposed to take place at night. (The relative lateness of sundown would affect another shooting day, but more about that later.)
The shooting script also contained a scene of Josh sitting in his car, hesitating, before going to the door, but by this point I must have decided that this was unnecessary. Again, low-budget filmmaking was tightening up the script out of necessity.
All the actors were in fine form, and Reuben in particular gave it his all; during editing I would later find myself selecting the more toned-down takes, which suggests that even I will occasionally resort to subtlety. J.D. got in a good ad-lib or two – although the meek character he had to play may have been stifling, he continued to handle the underdog comedy well.
After this shoot, I had all of the “without these scenes, there's no movie” scenes filmed. But I still had several “I could maybe do without these scenes, but it would be extremely challenging to make the movie work without them and would completely change the structure” scenes. So I wasn't out of the woods yet ...
Today – a Monday night – we shot another of the most important scenes, in which J.D. and Reuben reunite for the first time in years. Diane Conway once again played the wife of Reuben's character, and Wendy provided some props.
This scene was shot at Dana and Fran's house, as they had generously given permission to use their living room to film. I relied on source lighting for this scene, which is a fancy showbiz way of saying that we used lights which were actually there in the room. (As on Saturday, I chose to rely on available light sources because I was concerned about the amount of money I'd spent so far on this project, so even the relatively small expense of another lighting kit rental seemed like something to avoid.)
Due to the long summer days, a portion of the scene in which Reuben opens the front door had to be saved for last, since the scene is supposed to take place at night. (The relative lateness of sundown would affect another shooting day, but more about that later.)
The shooting script also contained a scene of Josh sitting in his car, hesitating, before going to the door, but by this point I must have decided that this was unnecessary. Again, low-budget filmmaking was tightening up the script out of necessity.
All the actors were in fine form, and Reuben in particular gave it his all; during editing I would later find myself selecting the more toned-down takes, which suggests that even I will occasionally resort to subtlety. J.D. got in a good ad-lib or two – although the meek character he had to play may have been stifling, he continued to handle the underdog comedy well.
After this shoot, I had all of the “without these scenes, there's no movie” scenes filmed. But I still had several “I could maybe do without these scenes, but it would be extremely challenging to make the movie work without them and would completely change the structure” scenes. So I wasn't out of the woods yet ...
Thursday, August 26, 2010
25 Months Ago: Day 17
DAY 17 – July 26, 2008
Today – a Saturday – was one of the longest shooting days. In hindsight, I find it extremely difficult to believe that we actually shot all this material in one day, but my notes, receipts and old emails indicate that we did.
This shooting day would be spent in Buffalo, and I spent part of the trip there getting some more shots of J.D. driving. Apart from this, our first destination was the Shadow Lounge, where Liz had gotten us permission to film a scene in which Liz's character is performing onstage as a musician.
When I originally wrote the script, I'd envisioned the character of Laurel as more of a tattooed punk chick. With Liz cast in the role, however, it seemed more sensible to make Laurel an indie folk musician, especially since Liz is a poet herself.
Tom's friend John Reinbird played a guitarist in this scene. He and a drummer, played by Ian Belknad, improvised a minimalist riff while Liz ad-libbed some beat poetry as “lyrics”. Impressively, Liz kept this up for ten whole minutes while the camera rolled – obviously, not all of this ended up in the finished scene. (Don't worry, you'll get to see more of it at a later date.)
We had two background extras for this scene, although Wendy and Sean stepped in and thus brought the number up to four. Sadly, you have to look quick to even notice that there were other people in the club at all, so obviously I wasn't positioning people on camera as creatively as I'd done on previous shoots. However, one of the extras seemed to fit another small part that still needed casting later on. (More about him later …)
My memory insists that the Shadow Lounge scene was the only thing we shot that day, and that everything else was on another day altogether. Apparently, my memory is wrong. We got lunch at Super Fuji Buffet again – maybe this was the day I had my nose buried in the schedule instead of socializing.
After this, I checked into a hotel room that I'd booked for filming another scene, and dropped off some excess equipment that wouldn't be needed until then. We then hit the road in J.D.'s van to film the longest and most complex of all the driving scenes, which concludes with a lengthy monologue as J.D.'s character, Josh, explains the story arc of the sci-fi novels that he's so obsessed with.
When I wrote this scene, I'd envisioned it as being sort of like the Indianapolis speech from Jaws. My idea was that Josh would describe these fictitious events with grave importance, as though he himself had experienced them and lived to tell the tale. J.D. had a funnier idea, though, which was to play it as an overly intense fanboy who was determined to finish his anecdote even while realizing that his unwilling audience had no interest.
J.D. also insisted, understandably, that he should pull over before telling the story, since performing this complicated scene while driving would be too difficult. This turned out to be a good idea, as the driving portions of the scene turned out to be a continuity nightmare.
Due to the sheer amount of material we were trying to crank through in a short time and under awkward circumstances, I figured it would be absurd to demand that the actors deliver the lines in this scene exactly as written; the most I could ask was that they hit all the essential beats of the scene in their own words. Nonetheless, I think this was J.D.'s finest hour as an actor. He nailed both the tone and the content of this massive scene, and stuck closest to the script out of anyone.
We then went back to the hotel to film a scene there - actually two scenes, one set in the evening and other taking place the next morning. Since the sun was setting as we shot, we actually filmed the morning scene first, then filmed the evening scene after we lost the light. In a well-meaning attempt to save time and cut costs, I relied on available light to shoot these scenes – fine for the day scene, somewhat less fine for the night scene.
Finally, we shot another driving scene, this one at night, as the characters arrive at the hotel. As originally scripted, this dialogue was originally going to play out in a hotel lobby, with a concierge listing in amusement to the characters arguing, but it was simpler to play the scene in the car instead.
This last scene of the day was one that I have almost no firsthand memory of shooting. Obviously I did shoot it, since the footage is in the movie, but I must have been just dog tired by this point, and I'm sure the actors felt the same way.
Still, we shot an impressive eleven pages of material today – about a tenth of the shooting script – and I must have breathed a lot easier knowing that these scenes were done.
Today – a Saturday – was one of the longest shooting days. In hindsight, I find it extremely difficult to believe that we actually shot all this material in one day, but my notes, receipts and old emails indicate that we did.
This shooting day would be spent in Buffalo, and I spent part of the trip there getting some more shots of J.D. driving. Apart from this, our first destination was the Shadow Lounge, where Liz had gotten us permission to film a scene in which Liz's character is performing onstage as a musician.
When I originally wrote the script, I'd envisioned the character of Laurel as more of a tattooed punk chick. With Liz cast in the role, however, it seemed more sensible to make Laurel an indie folk musician, especially since Liz is a poet herself.
Tom's friend John Reinbird played a guitarist in this scene. He and a drummer, played by Ian Belknad, improvised a minimalist riff while Liz ad-libbed some beat poetry as “lyrics”. Impressively, Liz kept this up for ten whole minutes while the camera rolled – obviously, not all of this ended up in the finished scene. (Don't worry, you'll get to see more of it at a later date.)
We had two background extras for this scene, although Wendy and Sean stepped in and thus brought the number up to four. Sadly, you have to look quick to even notice that there were other people in the club at all, so obviously I wasn't positioning people on camera as creatively as I'd done on previous shoots. However, one of the extras seemed to fit another small part that still needed casting later on. (More about him later …)
My memory insists that the Shadow Lounge scene was the only thing we shot that day, and that everything else was on another day altogether. Apparently, my memory is wrong. We got lunch at Super Fuji Buffet again – maybe this was the day I had my nose buried in the schedule instead of socializing.
After this, I checked into a hotel room that I'd booked for filming another scene, and dropped off some excess equipment that wouldn't be needed until then. We then hit the road in J.D.'s van to film the longest and most complex of all the driving scenes, which concludes with a lengthy monologue as J.D.'s character, Josh, explains the story arc of the sci-fi novels that he's so obsessed with.
When I wrote this scene, I'd envisioned it as being sort of like the Indianapolis speech from Jaws. My idea was that Josh would describe these fictitious events with grave importance, as though he himself had experienced them and lived to tell the tale. J.D. had a funnier idea, though, which was to play it as an overly intense fanboy who was determined to finish his anecdote even while realizing that his unwilling audience had no interest.
J.D. also insisted, understandably, that he should pull over before telling the story, since performing this complicated scene while driving would be too difficult. This turned out to be a good idea, as the driving portions of the scene turned out to be a continuity nightmare.
Due to the sheer amount of material we were trying to crank through in a short time and under awkward circumstances, I figured it would be absurd to demand that the actors deliver the lines in this scene exactly as written; the most I could ask was that they hit all the essential beats of the scene in their own words. Nonetheless, I think this was J.D.'s finest hour as an actor. He nailed both the tone and the content of this massive scene, and stuck closest to the script out of anyone.
We then went back to the hotel to film a scene there - actually two scenes, one set in the evening and other taking place the next morning. Since the sun was setting as we shot, we actually filmed the morning scene first, then filmed the evening scene after we lost the light. In a well-meaning attempt to save time and cut costs, I relied on available light to shoot these scenes – fine for the day scene, somewhat less fine for the night scene.
Finally, we shot another driving scene, this one at night, as the characters arrive at the hotel. As originally scripted, this dialogue was originally going to play out in a hotel lobby, with a concierge listing in amusement to the characters arguing, but it was simpler to play the scene in the car instead.
This last scene of the day was one that I have almost no firsthand memory of shooting. Obviously I did shoot it, since the footage is in the movie, but I must have been just dog tired by this point, and I'm sure the actors felt the same way.
Still, we shot an impressive eleven pages of material today – about a tenth of the shooting script – and I must have breathed a lot easier knowing that these scenes were done.
Friday, August 20, 2010
25 Months Ago: Day 16
DAY 16 – July 20, 2008
Day 16 … more than a week after Day 15. (We're talking shooting days here, not total days.)
Sunday.
In all the madness of production, I think I'd sort of forgotten that my old college buddy Greg and his wife Misha would be staying over for a visit on this particular weekend. (They often crash at my place when they're visiting relatives in the Rochester area, just as I often crash with them when I'm visiting NYC.)
But I wanted to keep up at least the semblance of a regular shooting schedule, and to me this required filming at least once a week. So I had to shoot something this weekend.
I believe strongly that once you start a big project that involves other people giving up their spare time, you have to finish it as quickly as possible. If you don't, people will lose momentum and interest, and drift away before you can finish it.
When making a low-budget movie (or perhaps a big-budget one as well), you should bear in mind that things could fall apart at any point. Ask yourself: If the shoot was suddenly halted for some reason, would it be possible for someone to make a coherent movie out of the footage you've shot SO FAR?
There are some scenes that, even if you're fond of them, could theoretically be cut or substituted. And then there are the scenes that you HAVE to shoot or else the film is incomplete and makes no sense. There were at least three of the latter that I still needed to get at this point. (As I review my old notes for this blog, I see that they were the next three scenes that I ended up shooting. Wasn't I the clever one.)
By far the simplest of the must-haves was an early exposition scene in which Josh, played by J.D., hears mysterious voices and begins his quest. This was a simple scene, which only required J.D. to sit in his trusty van, give some reaction shots, say a couple short lines of dialogue, and drive away.
We filmed the scene in a hotel parking lot. J.D. acted to his usual high standard, and I used some swooping, handheld camerawork to convey Josh's disorientation. Greg and Misha, eager to take part in the making of a feature film, came along and helped out behind the camera.
Not the longest or most epic day of shooting, but I breathed slightly easier with this scene done.
Day 16 … more than a week after Day 15. (We're talking shooting days here, not total days.)
Sunday.
In all the madness of production, I think I'd sort of forgotten that my old college buddy Greg and his wife Misha would be staying over for a visit on this particular weekend. (They often crash at my place when they're visiting relatives in the Rochester area, just as I often crash with them when I'm visiting NYC.)
But I wanted to keep up at least the semblance of a regular shooting schedule, and to me this required filming at least once a week. So I had to shoot something this weekend.
I believe strongly that once you start a big project that involves other people giving up their spare time, you have to finish it as quickly as possible. If you don't, people will lose momentum and interest, and drift away before you can finish it.
When making a low-budget movie (or perhaps a big-budget one as well), you should bear in mind that things could fall apart at any point. Ask yourself: If the shoot was suddenly halted for some reason, would it be possible for someone to make a coherent movie out of the footage you've shot SO FAR?
There are some scenes that, even if you're fond of them, could theoretically be cut or substituted. And then there are the scenes that you HAVE to shoot or else the film is incomplete and makes no sense. There were at least three of the latter that I still needed to get at this point. (As I review my old notes for this blog, I see that they were the next three scenes that I ended up shooting. Wasn't I the clever one.)
By far the simplest of the must-haves was an early exposition scene in which Josh, played by J.D., hears mysterious voices and begins his quest. This was a simple scene, which only required J.D. to sit in his trusty van, give some reaction shots, say a couple short lines of dialogue, and drive away.
We filmed the scene in a hotel parking lot. J.D. acted to his usual high standard, and I used some swooping, handheld camerawork to convey Josh's disorientation. Greg and Misha, eager to take part in the making of a feature film, came along and helped out behind the camera.
Not the longest or most epic day of shooting, but I breathed slightly easier with this scene done.
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
25 Months Ago: Intermission
INTERMISSION
The initial two-week marathon of shooting was over. After filming a set walkthrough (which might be a DVD extra one day), I had signed out of the rented office space and returned the lighting kit. It was time to take stock of what I'd shot and what I hadn't, and to make plans for the remaining shoots.
I found that I had managed to shoot slightly less than half of the script. The remaining scenes (mostly in the first half of the movie) were generally smaller in scale, and would require only two or three of the main actors onscreen at one time.
For the next month or so, I would be filming on nights and weekends, about two or three days a week on average. The next shoot would not be until the following weekend, on July 20. An important scene, but a simple one. But more on that next time ...
The initial two-week marathon of shooting was over. After filming a set walkthrough (which might be a DVD extra one day), I had signed out of the rented office space and returned the lighting kit. It was time to take stock of what I'd shot and what I hadn't, and to make plans for the remaining shoots.
I found that I had managed to shoot slightly less than half of the script. The remaining scenes (mostly in the first half of the movie) were generally smaller in scale, and would require only two or three of the main actors onscreen at one time.
For the next month or so, I would be filming on nights and weekends, about two or three days a week on average. The next shoot would not be until the following weekend, on July 20. An important scene, but a simple one. But more on that next time ...
Thursday, August 12, 2010
25 Months Ago: Day 15
DAY 15 – July 12, 2008
There's something to be said for setting a firm deadline and saying “I'm going to start on X date, no matter what,” and then move heaven and earth to meet that self-imposed deadline, rather than wait for everything to be perfect – because things will never be perfect, and if you wait for perfection then you'll never begin. I learned this the hard way in film school.
But there's also something to be said for giving yourself time to dot your i's and cross your t's, and not going off half-cocked and underprepared. On Saberfrog, I started shooting with an incomplete schedule and several small roles still not cast, thinking that I could plug the gaps as I went along. Of course, once I started shooting there was no time for casting or any other additional planning. I'd gotten off lightly for most of the past two weeks, as friends or friends-of-friends were able to step in just in the nick of time. But by today, my luck had run out.
Today was Saturday. The last day of the two-week marathon. I had planned to film a scene in which J.D.'s character, Josh, goes to a sci-fi convention and learns, to his horror, that his favorite author has died. This was an important exposition scene which sent Josh on his soul-searching journey.
If you've ever been to at least a medium-sized sci-fi convention held at a hotel or convention center, you probably know that there tends to be a “main” room – a big auditorium where the really famous or important guests appear onstage – and then there are smaller rooms where discussion panels take place. The latter are sometimes well-attended and sometimes not, depending on whether the event in the main room is a bigger draw.
The scene I'd written had Josh walking in during a poorly-attended discussion panel and – after comic banter with the cranky panelists – learning the terrible news. In addition to its plot significance, it was one of my favorite scenes in the script, partly for the characterization and dialogue and partly for its satirical take on fandom. And there was a room in the Tobey Village space that would have been perfect to stage it.
But I would be unable to shoot this scene today, for the very simple reason that I didn't have any actors to play the panelists or the (small) audience. I had no choice but to cut the scene for now, and think about where and how to film it later on.
I also had no one to play Liz's boss during a flashback scene in which Liz's character, Laurel, gets fired. In this case, however, I was able to devise a crafty solution. Scrapping the scene that had been scripted, I filmed an improvised scene from the boss's POV – a handheld shot storming into a room and arguing with Laurel. Liz and I did five takes, improvising different dialogue each time. (I would later dub someone else's voice over my own – I'd intended Laurel's boss to be female.) While it's preferable not to have to resort to such shenanigans, this turned out to be yet another example of necessity forcing us to come up with something more unusual and interesting than what had been scripted.
Next, I filmed some extra material of Karyus for the scene filmed on Day 2. I couldn't show his face because he'd shaved since then, but I recorded an extra line of dialogue that had been skipped on Day 2 (and would have to be delivered offscreen in the finished film), and I also filmed his hand picking up a prop. I'd had second thoughts about an action performed by Karyus' character in that scene – I was worried about the thematic statement it would make – and so I had thought of a slight alternative that might be less morally ambiguous, which would require changing only one shot. I ended up not using this alternative in the finished film, because the original gag was just too good. Plus it seemed foolish to worry about mature and upright behavior in a character played by – and written for – John Karyus.
Then I filmed a brief flashback scene of Liz and Reuben in a park. A very short scene, and I couldn't tell you where we shot it, because I don't remember. There were kids playing, which made it hard to get a good sound take, but that's all I can think of to say about that.
After this, it was off to Monroe Community College again, this time to film a classroom scene. For this scene, at least, I had extras to play the student audience, although some doubling up of actors was again needed to make the crowd look a little bigger than it was.
This scene required a number of students watching a video on an auditorium screen. I brought the pre-recorded video on a miniDV deck, but found that I didn't have a needed connector to patch my deck into the classroom's media system. Local video-production guru Derrick Petrush – who I don't believe I'd ever met before today – was an extra in this scene, and he saved the day by rushing home to get his own supplies while I concentrated on getting other shots (that didn't require the video feed) until he returned. Derrick also provided mad skills that helped to make a particular special effect (which I won't spoil here) more convincing on camera than I expected.
I also shot a much shorter scene of a classroom flashback. I won't say much about this scene either, except that it offered an opportunity to show off some of the effects that Tom Gleason had created for Day 2 but which had gone unused due to the scheduling challenges of that shoot.
After this, several of us – myself, Karyus, Derrick, Liz, and Wendy – went to TGI Friday's to celebrate. For me, and for most of the lead actors, the shoot was far from over, but for Karyus this was it. He had finished his scenes and would be flying home on Monday.
I first met John Karyus at RIT, where his John Belushi-esque persona made him a frequent character actor in other students' films. It was my dream to one day cast him in a major role in one of my own films, and now that dream was achieved. Not only did he deliver the goods as a comedy actor, but he was a tremendous asset behind the camera, helping with lighting and sound (he'd been a boom operator today and on Day 5, and perhaps on other days that I can't remember) and also helping me to build the sets.
But his contribution to the film goes deeper still. John and I have been friends for over ten years now, and the long conversations he and I have had over the years – about school, about work, about movies, about culture, about life – gave me a lot to think about, and were a major influence on the themes, tone and direction of Saberfrog.
There's something to be said for setting a firm deadline and saying “I'm going to start on X date, no matter what,” and then move heaven and earth to meet that self-imposed deadline, rather than wait for everything to be perfect – because things will never be perfect, and if you wait for perfection then you'll never begin. I learned this the hard way in film school.
But there's also something to be said for giving yourself time to dot your i's and cross your t's, and not going off half-cocked and underprepared. On Saberfrog, I started shooting with an incomplete schedule and several small roles still not cast, thinking that I could plug the gaps as I went along. Of course, once I started shooting there was no time for casting or any other additional planning. I'd gotten off lightly for most of the past two weeks, as friends or friends-of-friends were able to step in just in the nick of time. But by today, my luck had run out.
Today was Saturday. The last day of the two-week marathon. I had planned to film a scene in which J.D.'s character, Josh, goes to a sci-fi convention and learns, to his horror, that his favorite author has died. This was an important exposition scene which sent Josh on his soul-searching journey.
If you've ever been to at least a medium-sized sci-fi convention held at a hotel or convention center, you probably know that there tends to be a “main” room – a big auditorium where the really famous or important guests appear onstage – and then there are smaller rooms where discussion panels take place. The latter are sometimes well-attended and sometimes not, depending on whether the event in the main room is a bigger draw.
The scene I'd written had Josh walking in during a poorly-attended discussion panel and – after comic banter with the cranky panelists – learning the terrible news. In addition to its plot significance, it was one of my favorite scenes in the script, partly for the characterization and dialogue and partly for its satirical take on fandom. And there was a room in the Tobey Village space that would have been perfect to stage it.
But I would be unable to shoot this scene today, for the very simple reason that I didn't have any actors to play the panelists or the (small) audience. I had no choice but to cut the scene for now, and think about where and how to film it later on.
I also had no one to play Liz's boss during a flashback scene in which Liz's character, Laurel, gets fired. In this case, however, I was able to devise a crafty solution. Scrapping the scene that had been scripted, I filmed an improvised scene from the boss's POV – a handheld shot storming into a room and arguing with Laurel. Liz and I did five takes, improvising different dialogue each time. (I would later dub someone else's voice over my own – I'd intended Laurel's boss to be female.) While it's preferable not to have to resort to such shenanigans, this turned out to be yet another example of necessity forcing us to come up with something more unusual and interesting than what had been scripted.
Next, I filmed some extra material of Karyus for the scene filmed on Day 2. I couldn't show his face because he'd shaved since then, but I recorded an extra line of dialogue that had been skipped on Day 2 (and would have to be delivered offscreen in the finished film), and I also filmed his hand picking up a prop. I'd had second thoughts about an action performed by Karyus' character in that scene – I was worried about the thematic statement it would make – and so I had thought of a slight alternative that might be less morally ambiguous, which would require changing only one shot. I ended up not using this alternative in the finished film, because the original gag was just too good. Plus it seemed foolish to worry about mature and upright behavior in a character played by – and written for – John Karyus.
Then I filmed a brief flashback scene of Liz and Reuben in a park. A very short scene, and I couldn't tell you where we shot it, because I don't remember. There were kids playing, which made it hard to get a good sound take, but that's all I can think of to say about that.
After this, it was off to Monroe Community College again, this time to film a classroom scene. For this scene, at least, I had extras to play the student audience, although some doubling up of actors was again needed to make the crowd look a little bigger than it was.
This scene required a number of students watching a video on an auditorium screen. I brought the pre-recorded video on a miniDV deck, but found that I didn't have a needed connector to patch my deck into the classroom's media system. Local video-production guru Derrick Petrush – who I don't believe I'd ever met before today – was an extra in this scene, and he saved the day by rushing home to get his own supplies while I concentrated on getting other shots (that didn't require the video feed) until he returned. Derrick also provided mad skills that helped to make a particular special effect (which I won't spoil here) more convincing on camera than I expected.
I also shot a much shorter scene of a classroom flashback. I won't say much about this scene either, except that it offered an opportunity to show off some of the effects that Tom Gleason had created for Day 2 but which had gone unused due to the scheduling challenges of that shoot.
After this, several of us – myself, Karyus, Derrick, Liz, and Wendy – went to TGI Friday's to celebrate. For me, and for most of the lead actors, the shoot was far from over, but for Karyus this was it. He had finished his scenes and would be flying home on Monday.
I first met John Karyus at RIT, where his John Belushi-esque persona made him a frequent character actor in other students' films. It was my dream to one day cast him in a major role in one of my own films, and now that dream was achieved. Not only did he deliver the goods as a comedy actor, but he was a tremendous asset behind the camera, helping with lighting and sound (he'd been a boom operator today and on Day 5, and perhaps on other days that I can't remember) and also helping me to build the sets.
But his contribution to the film goes deeper still. John and I have been friends for over ten years now, and the long conversations he and I have had over the years – about school, about work, about movies, about culture, about life – gave me a lot to think about, and were a major influence on the themes, tone and direction of Saberfrog.
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
25 Months Ago: Day 14
DAY 14 – July 11, 2008
Friday. The last weekday before I go back to work. It was also the last day of shooting on the main office set at Tobey Village, although I would manage to squeeze a little bit more use out of the space before checking out.
Wendy, in the role of Aymee, finished her office scenes today. One of these scenes co-starred Reuben as the younger, louder Terrance, dressed in a bright lime-green shirt and a dinosaur-print tie, while a dinosaur toy is visible in the background. Another amusing bit of set dressing which seemed funnier at the time than it probably does in the finished movie.
Co-starring in this scene was yours truly as Aymee's boss. The scene required Aymee's boss to lose his temper and strike her, and although Wendy wouldn't actually have to be touched (with the right camera angle, you can miss someone by a mile and it still looks good, especially with a sound effect added), I thought she would be more comfortable if someone she knew and trusted were to play her hostile boss. I asked her if she would like me to play the role, and she said she would.
I'd acted in films before – including my own – but for this film had decided it would be wiser not to give myself one of the main roles in the film, but instead to wait and see if a smaller part (such as this one) needed to be filled or recast quickly.
Giving yourself a leading role in your own movie might seem like a good move in terms of scheduling – you're the one person you know is always available! – but if you don't have a big crew and are doing a lot of things yourself then it's probably not a good idea. You won't look your best if you're running on four hours of sleep a night and working up a sweat all day (unless this suits the character somehow), plus you have enough on your mind without having to give a performance and memorize lines.
In fact, I had a fair amount of trouble knowing my lines even for this small scene, which made me all the more impressed at how well the cast was coping with the complicated dialogue I'd written for them.
A good thing about casting yourself in your movie, though, is it means someone else gets to man the camera for a change. I think Wendy and Reuben took turns during my shots, or just turned it on during shots where all three of us were visible.
After filming my scene, I recorded the “slap” sound effect by slapping my own hand. Hard. It must have hurt (I'm not visible on camera in the raw footage for this, but Wendy's expression indicates that she's reacting to my expression after doing it) but it made for a good sound effect.
I think I was a bit miscast for this role – the character should really have been a big, square-jawed, SUV-driving macho yuppie guy, not a skinny little Turlough lookalike such as myself. But it wasn't the only character to veer slightly away from the script concept as a result of casting against type, so I'm probably wrong to worry.
Friday. The last weekday before I go back to work. It was also the last day of shooting on the main office set at Tobey Village, although I would manage to squeeze a little bit more use out of the space before checking out.
Wendy, in the role of Aymee, finished her office scenes today. One of these scenes co-starred Reuben as the younger, louder Terrance, dressed in a bright lime-green shirt and a dinosaur-print tie, while a dinosaur toy is visible in the background. Another amusing bit of set dressing which seemed funnier at the time than it probably does in the finished movie.
Co-starring in this scene was yours truly as Aymee's boss. The scene required Aymee's boss to lose his temper and strike her, and although Wendy wouldn't actually have to be touched (with the right camera angle, you can miss someone by a mile and it still looks good, especially with a sound effect added), I thought she would be more comfortable if someone she knew and trusted were to play her hostile boss. I asked her if she would like me to play the role, and she said she would.
I'd acted in films before – including my own – but for this film had decided it would be wiser not to give myself one of the main roles in the film, but instead to wait and see if a smaller part (such as this one) needed to be filled or recast quickly.
Giving yourself a leading role in your own movie might seem like a good move in terms of scheduling – you're the one person you know is always available! – but if you don't have a big crew and are doing a lot of things yourself then it's probably not a good idea. You won't look your best if you're running on four hours of sleep a night and working up a sweat all day (unless this suits the character somehow), plus you have enough on your mind without having to give a performance and memorize lines.
In fact, I had a fair amount of trouble knowing my lines even for this small scene, which made me all the more impressed at how well the cast was coping with the complicated dialogue I'd written for them.
A good thing about casting yourself in your movie, though, is it means someone else gets to man the camera for a change. I think Wendy and Reuben took turns during my shots, or just turned it on during shots where all three of us were visible.
After filming my scene, I recorded the “slap” sound effect by slapping my own hand. Hard. It must have hurt (I'm not visible on camera in the raw footage for this, but Wendy's expression indicates that she's reacting to my expression after doing it) but it made for a good sound effect.
I think I was a bit miscast for this role – the character should really have been a big, square-jawed, SUV-driving macho yuppie guy, not a skinny little Turlough lookalike such as myself. But it wasn't the only character to veer slightly away from the script concept as a result of casting against type, so I'm probably wrong to worry.
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
25 Months Ago: Day 13
DAY 13 – July 10, 2008
Karyus and I went shopping for some more last-minute props. We went to Pier 1 for set dressing for Professor Mbaye's office, and we also went toy shopping for the opening money shot of the main cast – in younger, happier times – goofing off at work.
Today's shoot started with the office set for Professor Mbaye, allowing Jahaka to complete his three remaining scenes in the role. Two of these scenes co-starred Reuben as Terrance, and both he and Jahaka – like other actors on the shoot far – soon started bouncing off each other, although I couldn't use many of Jahaka's ad-libs as Mbaye is supposed to be a serious character.
We then captured some shots of the main office, now dressed with ridiculous toys (and handmade flyers), and it was license for the main cast to go wild. They did not disappoint.
A very fun day of shooting so far, and I thought the day couldn't get any nuttier. Wrong.
Next, we returned to Writers & Books to shoot a flashback scene in which Terrance humiliates himself by performing a bad one-man play. From that description you might instantly assume that this was a comedy scene. In the script, however, it was written as a traumatic experience for Terrance, one of the few scenes in the script that is meant to be deadly, gravely serious.
This was not to be.
For this scene, we had rented the main performance space at Writers & Books. While we were setting up, someone (I blame Karyus) discovered, hidden away in a corner of the room, two big tree branches. Why they were there, no one can say. But then the suggestion was made (perhaps with the knowledge that the director of this opus was easily amused) that Reuben should brandish these props during his “performance”.
This was another scene where the audio was to be covered over with present-day narration, so it didn't matter what the dialogue was. Reuben was given full rein to ad-lib whatever he wanted. Whatever he said, I didn't expect it to be heard in the film. Neither, I imagine, did Reuben.
What came out of Reuben's mouth, as he waved those branches onstage, was such surreal comedy that I had to use it. As with the record store scene, I kept the camera rolling, figuring that I would stop taping only when Reuben stopped being funny. But there as here, the longer I kept taping, the more bizarre the material became, until finally I had to ask, “Who are you, and what have you done with Reuben?”
I'd planned to film Reuben's performance only, and to capture the audience's (disgusted) reaction another day. As luck would have it, a class was going on in the room next door, and Jahaka – who accompanied us to this shoot – knew someone in that class, and invited the class to be extras. I filmed them as they gave disgusted reactions, then stomped out en masse in what also turned out to be a humorous moment.
I left that shoot with a heady mix of delight and concern. After a week and a half of shooting, I had observed that all the actors – even those who only appeared in one scene – were eager to sink their teeth into the material and contribute their own wacky additions, making almost every scene bigger and bolder than I'd envisioned. To see the same absurdity envelop a more serious scene, and to see myself happily going with it, gave me pause. What kind of movie was I making here? What had been written as an edgy balance between comedy and drama was rapidly mutating into weird comedy throughout.
Of course, a different director would put his foot down and say, “No, that's not in the script,” or “No, that's too ridiculous.” Actors said, or did, or held, or wore, absurd things on camera because I allowed it and even encouraged it, even if I wasn't conscious of doing so. There was no way I wasn't going to use the extra material that the cast was giving me. I was happy to surf this rising wave of weirdness rather than attempt to tame it.
In that regard, I guess I lean towards the Terry Gilliam approach of letting actors and artists contribute eccentric ideas, and deciding which of these ideas are usable, rather than the Stanley Kubrick/George Lucas approach of sticking to a specific vision and forcing the actors to conform to it.
The footage of the audience turned out to be lit poorly – I hadn't expected to be filming the seats – and I would end up reshooting most of this audience-reaction material over a year later. The extras in that shoot would be directed to behave as the audience extras in this shoot had done.
Wendy and I went to Zebb's Deluxe Bar and Grill for dinner afterwards.
Karyus and I went shopping for some more last-minute props. We went to Pier 1 for set dressing for Professor Mbaye's office, and we also went toy shopping for the opening money shot of the main cast – in younger, happier times – goofing off at work.
Today's shoot started with the office set for Professor Mbaye, allowing Jahaka to complete his three remaining scenes in the role. Two of these scenes co-starred Reuben as Terrance, and both he and Jahaka – like other actors on the shoot far – soon started bouncing off each other, although I couldn't use many of Jahaka's ad-libs as Mbaye is supposed to be a serious character.
We then captured some shots of the main office, now dressed with ridiculous toys (and handmade flyers), and it was license for the main cast to go wild. They did not disappoint.
A very fun day of shooting so far, and I thought the day couldn't get any nuttier. Wrong.
Next, we returned to Writers & Books to shoot a flashback scene in which Terrance humiliates himself by performing a bad one-man play. From that description you might instantly assume that this was a comedy scene. In the script, however, it was written as a traumatic experience for Terrance, one of the few scenes in the script that is meant to be deadly, gravely serious.
This was not to be.
For this scene, we had rented the main performance space at Writers & Books. While we were setting up, someone (I blame Karyus) discovered, hidden away in a corner of the room, two big tree branches. Why they were there, no one can say. But then the suggestion was made (perhaps with the knowledge that the director of this opus was easily amused) that Reuben should brandish these props during his “performance”.
This was another scene where the audio was to be covered over with present-day narration, so it didn't matter what the dialogue was. Reuben was given full rein to ad-lib whatever he wanted. Whatever he said, I didn't expect it to be heard in the film. Neither, I imagine, did Reuben.
What came out of Reuben's mouth, as he waved those branches onstage, was such surreal comedy that I had to use it. As with the record store scene, I kept the camera rolling, figuring that I would stop taping only when Reuben stopped being funny. But there as here, the longer I kept taping, the more bizarre the material became, until finally I had to ask, “Who are you, and what have you done with Reuben?”
I'd planned to film Reuben's performance only, and to capture the audience's (disgusted) reaction another day. As luck would have it, a class was going on in the room next door, and Jahaka – who accompanied us to this shoot – knew someone in that class, and invited the class to be extras. I filmed them as they gave disgusted reactions, then stomped out en masse in what also turned out to be a humorous moment.
I left that shoot with a heady mix of delight and concern. After a week and a half of shooting, I had observed that all the actors – even those who only appeared in one scene – were eager to sink their teeth into the material and contribute their own wacky additions, making almost every scene bigger and bolder than I'd envisioned. To see the same absurdity envelop a more serious scene, and to see myself happily going with it, gave me pause. What kind of movie was I making here? What had been written as an edgy balance between comedy and drama was rapidly mutating into weird comedy throughout.
Of course, a different director would put his foot down and say, “No, that's not in the script,” or “No, that's too ridiculous.” Actors said, or did, or held, or wore, absurd things on camera because I allowed it and even encouraged it, even if I wasn't conscious of doing so. There was no way I wasn't going to use the extra material that the cast was giving me. I was happy to surf this rising wave of weirdness rather than attempt to tame it.
In that regard, I guess I lean towards the Terry Gilliam approach of letting actors and artists contribute eccentric ideas, and deciding which of these ideas are usable, rather than the Stanley Kubrick/George Lucas approach of sticking to a specific vision and forcing the actors to conform to it.
The footage of the audience turned out to be lit poorly – I hadn't expected to be filming the seats – and I would end up reshooting most of this audience-reaction material over a year later. The extras in that shoot would be directed to behave as the audience extras in this shoot had done.
Wendy and I went to Zebb's Deluxe Bar and Grill for dinner afterwards.
Monday, August 9, 2010
25 Months Ago: Day 12
DAY 12 – July 9, 2008
When I first met Reuben, he had his hair braided and he looked very sleek and no-nonsense. When I bumped into again, some days or weeks before the start of the shoot, his hair was unbraided. I thought the unbraided hair made him look younger and more casual.
For this reason, Reuben would have his hair unbraided to play his younger self in flashback scenes, of which there were three to be filmed today.
The first was of the young Terrance quitting his job. The second was a brief interview scene. The third was a college office scene with John Sindoni.
Then, with moody lighting, we filmed several closeups of Sindoni – lines of dialogue as well as cutaway reaction shots – that had been missed on Day 2.
We also got a shot of Karyus's character being interviewed.
Not a lot to say here, as all of these scenes were quick and simple to shoot.
When I first met Reuben, he had his hair braided and he looked very sleek and no-nonsense. When I bumped into again, some days or weeks before the start of the shoot, his hair was unbraided. I thought the unbraided hair made him look younger and more casual.
For this reason, Reuben would have his hair unbraided to play his younger self in flashback scenes, of which there were three to be filmed today.
The first was of the young Terrance quitting his job. The second was a brief interview scene. The third was a college office scene with John Sindoni.
Then, with moody lighting, we filmed several closeups of Sindoni – lines of dialogue as well as cutaway reaction shots – that had been missed on Day 2.
We also got a shot of Karyus's character being interviewed.
Not a lot to say here, as all of these scenes were quick and simple to shoot.
Sunday, August 8, 2010
25 Months Ago: Day 11
DAY 11 – July 8, 2008
With all of Karyus' present-day scenes completed, he went and got a shave and a haircut so that he could play his clean-cut younger self in flashbacks.
We filmed a scene in which the young Bert walks through a park, contemplating his destiny. A funny, improvised shot had Karyus sleeping under a strange tree, like a fairy-tale troll, but this shot didn't really fit and I ended up not using it.
Next, we returned to Tobey Village to film a scene of Bert being fired from his old office job. We went to some trouble to dress Bert's cubicle as a squalid pig-sty, which I thought was hilarious at the time, even if it doesn't quite have the same impact in the finished film.
J.D.'s character, Josh, was in this scene, as was an obsessive engineer whose cubicle was next to Bert's. Originally I'd wanted someone older for this small role, to clearly differentiate him from the main cast. But this was another role I had trouble casting, so J.D. came to the rescue by bringing his friend and co-worker Michael Sackley onboard, and Michael had a lot of fun with the part.
I also had failed to cast an actor as Bert's manager, so Jesse Conklin, who'd played Josh's boss the day before, became Bert's boss as well, in another piece of serendipitous continuity.
The events leading to Bert's termination were being narrated by present-day Bert, so Karyus and Mr. Conklin were required to ad-lib some material that wouldn't be heard by the audience. Of course, this improv material was funnier than expected and I ended up using some of their dialogue in place of the narration that was meant to cover it.
Another funny ad-lib occurred between J.D. and Karyus during an establishing shot, and I'm pleased to say that it is featured in the finished film. While J.D. did a terrific job on this movie as a dramatic actor, it's kind of too bad that this character didn't give him more chances to show his comedy chops.
With all of Karyus' present-day scenes completed, he went and got a shave and a haircut so that he could play his clean-cut younger self in flashbacks.
We filmed a scene in which the young Bert walks through a park, contemplating his destiny. A funny, improvised shot had Karyus sleeping under a strange tree, like a fairy-tale troll, but this shot didn't really fit and I ended up not using it.
Next, we returned to Tobey Village to film a scene of Bert being fired from his old office job. We went to some trouble to dress Bert's cubicle as a squalid pig-sty, which I thought was hilarious at the time, even if it doesn't quite have the same impact in the finished film.
J.D.'s character, Josh, was in this scene, as was an obsessive engineer whose cubicle was next to Bert's. Originally I'd wanted someone older for this small role, to clearly differentiate him from the main cast. But this was another role I had trouble casting, so J.D. came to the rescue by bringing his friend and co-worker Michael Sackley onboard, and Michael had a lot of fun with the part.
I also had failed to cast an actor as Bert's manager, so Jesse Conklin, who'd played Josh's boss the day before, became Bert's boss as well, in another piece of serendipitous continuity.
The events leading to Bert's termination were being narrated by present-day Bert, so Karyus and Mr. Conklin were required to ad-lib some material that wouldn't be heard by the audience. Of course, this improv material was funnier than expected and I ended up using some of their dialogue in place of the narration that was meant to cover it.
Another funny ad-lib occurred between J.D. and Karyus during an establishing shot, and I'm pleased to say that it is featured in the finished film. While J.D. did a terrific job on this movie as a dramatic actor, it's kind of too bad that this character didn't give him more chances to show his comedy chops.
Saturday, August 7, 2010
25 Months Ago: Day 10
DAY 10 – July 7, 2008
Today was a Monday. Perhaps fittingly, we spent it filming several short scenes at the Tobey Village office set.
I bought some office equipment at Office Depot to provide a little more set dressing, and also bought a pair of reading glasses for J.D. to use as a prop. Karyus helped with some last minute set-building before the shoot.
The footage of John Sindoni's scenes from Day 5 turned out to have flickering light levels, due to a bad fluorescent bulb in the set for his office. So we reshot those scenes today.
Next, we shot a brief scene of Reuben speaking to a college secretary. I had been unable to cast the role of the secretary, so Wendy read the lines off-camera. I was planning to replace her voice later, but would ultimately decide that having Wendy in this dual role had a certain logic to it (you'll understand when you see the finished film … maybe).
We then recreated the moody blue lighting of Day 2, and shot some close-ups of Reuben that I hadn't been able to get on that day – a missing line of dialogue and some physical actions.
After this, we shot an early scene of J.D.'s character, Josh, being let go by his boss, played by Jesse Conklin. Mr. Conklin was one of several actors (Anthony Owens was another) who approached me for a role in response to a casting announcement I'd made through Rochester Movie Makers. More recently he revealed to me that this was his first acting role in a movie (he's been in several local productions since), but that wouldn't have mattered even if I'd known. I just thought he had a solid, dad-like quality that made him perfect for this part.
For scheduling reasons, the shoot had been largely Karyus-centric so far, so it was good to finally do a scene which centered on J.D., who was, after all, the lead actor. It was also the first scene of the shoot in which he got to do comedic acting. Although J.D. had no lines in this scene, his Gromit-like facial expressions and body language spoke comedy volumes, so not many takes were required.
I wanted the costumes and set design to be bland and monochrome, to communicate the dullness that Josh's life has become. This was the first scene of the shoot to make use of the main office set, and it occurs at a point in the script when the office is relatively bare. That made it the perfect choice to shoot first, since I was still in the process of assembling the set and acquiring decoration for it. By this point, making the movie was like building the railroad track a few feet ahead while driving the train.
After filming this scene, I put tape marks on the floor to mark the tripod position, as I would later need to match this camera setup with a similar shot of a younger J.D. at his desk, during happier times.
The shooting day concluded with a simple close-up of Wendy's character being interviewed.
Another good day.
Today was a Monday. Perhaps fittingly, we spent it filming several short scenes at the Tobey Village office set.
I bought some office equipment at Office Depot to provide a little more set dressing, and also bought a pair of reading glasses for J.D. to use as a prop. Karyus helped with some last minute set-building before the shoot.
The footage of John Sindoni's scenes from Day 5 turned out to have flickering light levels, due to a bad fluorescent bulb in the set for his office. So we reshot those scenes today.
Next, we shot a brief scene of Reuben speaking to a college secretary. I had been unable to cast the role of the secretary, so Wendy read the lines off-camera. I was planning to replace her voice later, but would ultimately decide that having Wendy in this dual role had a certain logic to it (you'll understand when you see the finished film … maybe).
We then recreated the moody blue lighting of Day 2, and shot some close-ups of Reuben that I hadn't been able to get on that day – a missing line of dialogue and some physical actions.
After this, we shot an early scene of J.D.'s character, Josh, being let go by his boss, played by Jesse Conklin. Mr. Conklin was one of several actors (Anthony Owens was another) who approached me for a role in response to a casting announcement I'd made through Rochester Movie Makers. More recently he revealed to me that this was his first acting role in a movie (he's been in several local productions since), but that wouldn't have mattered even if I'd known. I just thought he had a solid, dad-like quality that made him perfect for this part.
For scheduling reasons, the shoot had been largely Karyus-centric so far, so it was good to finally do a scene which centered on J.D., who was, after all, the lead actor. It was also the first scene of the shoot in which he got to do comedic acting. Although J.D. had no lines in this scene, his Gromit-like facial expressions and body language spoke comedy volumes, so not many takes were required.
I wanted the costumes and set design to be bland and monochrome, to communicate the dullness that Josh's life has become. This was the first scene of the shoot to make use of the main office set, and it occurs at a point in the script when the office is relatively bare. That made it the perfect choice to shoot first, since I was still in the process of assembling the set and acquiring decoration for it. By this point, making the movie was like building the railroad track a few feet ahead while driving the train.
After filming this scene, I put tape marks on the floor to mark the tripod position, as I would later need to match this camera setup with a similar shot of a younger J.D. at his desk, during happier times.
The shooting day concluded with a simple close-up of Wendy's character being interviewed.
Another good day.
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