Showing posts with label Floating. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Floating. Show all posts

Monday, January 9, 2017

Call Back, Casey. All is Forgiven

"Wait a minute. Haven't I seen you before? I know your face."
-Joe Gillis, Sunset Boulevard

Congrats to my newly dear friend Casey Affleck. I realize you may not remember me as the 1st AD on Floating, where you memorably played Preppie #1 in late 90s. I forgive you for not remembering, because until I went through all my shows while looking up possible cast for a film I'm producing, I had forgotten you were in Floating. I realize in the years since, you may resent that someone as meteorically successful as myself has not reached out to you for those great roles I could have provided. Of course, I never forgot the tears you brought to my eyes (or great laughs?) as Preppie # 1, or our long, special talks together. Or, at least when I made sure there was something still at crafty when your scene was over. If it makes you feel better, I also lost touch with Preppie #2. I hope you will remember those special moments on your next film. No. No. You don't need to thank me for my contribution to your development if you win awards for Manchester by the Sea. Well, it's okay if you do, but you don't have to. After all, I'm sure you remember when the co-star of Floating, Chad Lowe, was forgotten when his then-wife, Hillary Swank, won the Oscar for Boys Don't Cry, after she had thanked everyone else, down to the PA who got her Starbucks order right.*

I am quite busy this year, but if you need me to once again offer my guidance in your next performance on what will undoubtedly be a huge budget studio film, I will, in honor of our special relationship, make time for you
I'm just that sort of guy. Text me, baby.






*Note how the producers of the Academy Awards kept coming back to a shot of Chad, sure that she would mention him. Even better was she shows her paper at the beginning and says she wrote it all down because 'it would be so awful if she forgot anybody.'.

Saturday, February 22, 2014

The Debt Has Been Paid





Many of you may have seen this story, but if you haven't, you need to.

For those who don't know the details of this story, a film called Midnight Rider was shooting a Gregg Allman biopic on a train track in Georgia, and a young second camera assistant was killed, and others injured. 

Below is part of the story from a Variety article:



A second camera assistant was killed Thursday afternoon when a freight train struck and killed her on the set of the Gregg Allman biopic “Midnight Rider,” sources confirm to Variety.

Four other people were injured in the accident, one seriously. The event happened in Wayne County, Ga.

An eyewitness told Variety the movie crew was filming a dream sequence on a railroad trestle when a train unexpectedly crossed the bridge.

The crew, including director Randall Miller, had placed a bed on the tracks for the scene and was expecting two trains on the local bridge, one in each direction, when a third train arrived unexpectedly.

A whistle warned the crew members of the next train, giving them less than a minute, which was too late.


Subsequent articles have contradictory stories about whether the railroad had given its permission and was working with the company, or if just the private company who owned the land the tracks ran through had given their permission.

These are among the questions that clearly need to be answered, but as a producer and an AD, there are some specific questions that concern me.

Assuming there was a production meeting that went through each day's shooting with all of the keys, did no one ask if it was an active track? That answer was clearly yes, and the production company knew it, because they anticipated the two trains that came before the one that killed the young camera assistant.

Once that answer was yes, what was the question about why they were building a set - it seems it was a bed and some props from a dream sequence - on an active track.

One of the most disturbing things to me was a note in one of the articles that they were told that IF a third train came, it would give a warning whistle when it was about a minute away. Excuse me, IF and ONE MINUTE? What was the plan to clear the track of a set in one minute, not to mention camera and any other supporting gear?

Remember, this was a union crew with a director shooting his second feature, not a bunch of film students.  Was there any sort of safety meeting?

As a second AC, I doubt Sarah would have been at that meeting. The point, as one Facebook poster mentioned, was that other people should have had her back, should have asked those questions. The producers are responsible, and I would certainly like to hear from the UPM, AD, and location manager, all of whom should have addressed these basic questions.

There should have been numerous fail-safes before it ever got this far. Clearly, those all were blown.

An old college friend who publishes books on railroads and their history, and historic lines, adds the following:

"I've been acquiring some level of knowledge about railroading through my publishing work, and I do not believe for one second they had permission from CSX. Jesup is such an active line that in town they have built a platform for people who like to watch freight trains go by. Also, I believe there are now phone apps for monitoring the Advanced Train Control System which displays train traffic. It's what railroads use to monitor their traffic and what railfans use to know when and where the next train is. There is just no excuse for this sad incident."

The above was from his Facebook post to me.

The tragedy is that so many opportunities to prevent this were missed. I'm glad the union posted the picture of Sarah above. Looking at her, does it not look like a typical crew photo from any of your shoots? Could she not be any one of your crew friends? Could she not be you?

There are times, as line producer and AD, when I have pulled the plug on stupid ideas. There are other times when I may not have seen a risk and someone else pointed it out. 

Before we get too high-and-mighty - Let's be honest: we've all pushed the envelope at times. Making movies can be dangerous - big, heavy equipment, electricity, stunts, effects, etc. We sometimes take chances, but hopefully, when we do, we have calculated the risks and have done what we could to reduce those risks, even if it does not get down to zero.

It sounds corny, but we are a team. A member of Sarah's union posted this (part of a longer post)

"Sarah,
I didn’t know you but learned today that you were a “sister” of mine, a 2nd AC in Local 600, that you were working on a film set yesterday and that now you are no longer with us as a result. I am so sorry that your young life was cut short for something as trivial as moviemaking and so sorry that no one spoke up to say “this isn’t safe” before a train came down the tracks you were shooting on killing you and injuring seven others. I don’t really know much about the situation or what actually happened, but I am sure that you were doing your job, performing your functions professionally, secure in the knowledge that since others were doing it, things must be safe. I don’t know if you were concerned, if there was a safety meeting, if you asked and someone said, “yeah it’ll be fine” or, if like so often happens, you were moving so fast to help your team get “the shot” that you didn’t take the time to consider what was being asked of you. I don’t know a lot of things.

But I do know this Sarah. No one had your back. If they did, you’d still be here today. The Director should have said no. The AD should have said no. The DP should have said no. Production should have said no. Your operator should have said no. I don’t know if any of these things happened, but I do know that you were out on those tracks and that means someone didn’t step up enough. You were doing what was asked of you and for that reason, you are gone.

And I am so sorry because a 2nd AC shouldn’t be the one to make the call that something is unsafe. A 2nd AC, or anyone for that matter, should not have been out on those tracks. A 2nd AC should not have died yesterday. No one should have...."
"Sarah,
I didn’t know you but learned today that you were a “sister” of mine, a 2nd AC in Local 600, that you were working on a film set yesterday and that now you are no longer with us as a result. I am so sorry that your young life was cut short for something as trivial as moviemaking and so sorry that no one spoke up to say “this isn’t safe” before a train came down the tracks you were shooting on killing you and injuring seven others. I don’t really know much about the situation or what actually happened, but I am sure that you were doing your job, performing your functions professionally, secure in the knowledge that since others were doing it, things must be safe. I don’t know if you were concerned, if there was a safety meeting, if you asked and someone said, “yeah it’ll be fine” or, if like so often happens, you were moving so fast to help your team get “the shot” that you didn’t take the time to consider what was being asked of you. I don’t know a lot of things.

But I do know this Sarah. No one had your back. If they did, you’d still be here today. The Director should have said no. The AD should have said no. The DP should have said no. Production should have said no. Your operator should have said no. I don’t know if any of these things happened, but I do know that you were out on those tracks and that means someone didn’t step up enough. You were doing what was asked of you and for that reason, you are gone.

And I am so sorry because a 2nd AC shouldn’t be the one to make the call that something is unsafe. A 2nd AC, or anyone for that matter, should not have been out on those tracks. A 2nd AC should not have died yesterday. No one should have...."


We get caught up in the moment, which is why we need to look out for each other. As this poster says, Sarah was probably focused on what she always was likely focused on - doing her job - and trusted that others had answered any of those safety questions.

Line producing my last feature there was something we wanted the sound recordist to do that he was not comfortable with - not necessarily dangerous, but not by standard procedure. He was a replacement and had not been there when it was discussed.I was in the office, and someone asked me to talk with him - which I did.

I started by asking him to explain the situation to me as he saw it. I addressed a few of his concerns, but our conversation ended - as it always does - with this: I am not going to ask you to do something that you are not comfortable doing.  In the end, we shot the scene without sound. There was no argument.

That's how the system should work.

I surely don't have all the answers here, but you don't need to be an investigator to see how many safety issues needed to be ignored for this tragedy to happen.

This has popped up on a few of the blogs I read already, and likely, will pop-up on more. Here is a wonderful tribute from a great crew site, dollygrippery.net.

I'm glad that IA posted Sarah's picture - a set photo - because, again, we all need to look at it, to see that smiling face or someone who is gone, and not just throw around words like "accident," as if it is a thing. 

It is not. It's a person. It's Sarah. It's the crew people you love.

I am tired of talking about "silver linings" and "if this prevents just one more..." We should have prevented already. Sarah didn't need to pay for other people's safety. Sarah didn't go to work that day to be a martyr for set safety.

It was Day One of the shoot. She likely showed up full of enthusiasm for doing her job, wondering what new crew members would be like, who this old guy Gregg Allman might be and would he be on set, what would the catering be like, and, like all of us, with our fingers crossed that we don't screw up.

She should never in her worst nightmares have had to think about getting hit by a train.

I am tired of wishing people rest in peace, though Sarah certainly deserves that. I am tired of reminding the rest of us that our mortal stage is just that - a stage - and that those we love do live on in especially in our hearts - though I truly believe it.

The more I write this, the more I alternate between sadness and anger, though I know neither does much good, and I'm sure that those that missed the opportunity to prevent this are feeling deep pain, a pain that I doubt will ever go away.

The Twilight Zone movie. Jason Lee. Brent Hershman. John Hunt Lamensdorf.*All the other crew and cast members killed whose names you don't know, and the countless others who were not killed but sustained serious injuries that could have been prevented.

 We use terms like "war stories" the way sports announcers use words like "hero" for athletes when there are so many other heroes out there who put their lives on the line for others. What we do should not be war. It should not come with sacrifices, Movies are entertainment, not a noble cause to give life or limb for.

We have enough names. We have enough faces. With Sarah, let's just say: Enough.


EDIT: Subsequent stories have confirmed what I already knew - that the production company did not have the permission of the RR company.

EDIT 2: There has been much deserved outrage from the crew community, as well as some beautiful tributes, including the one linked in this post from dollygrippery.net which everyone needs to read.
Here, I link an article by a wonderful First AD in her blog "It's a 1st AD thing...", where Michelle, as usual, tells it like it is from an AD perspective. I shared one of my own bad incidents from my AD days in the post above.

If you've been a first AD, you have been in the situation Michelle describes.

EDIT 3: I have tried not to keep putting up new posts, but putting updates here. A genuine outpouring of love has resulted in a movement/FB page - Slates for Sarah. Spontaneously at first, and then in reaction to the FB page, thousands of industry folks from small indies to "Glee" and other episodic shows have shown love for Sarah in messages on their slates and posted them on that Facebook page.

From that page, the idea of having Sarah Jones' name added to the In Memorium section of the Oscars this Sunday has arisen. If interested, email slatesforsarah@gmail.com or visit slatesforsarah.org or sign at this site here.



* I know someone who was involved in Lamensdorf's death, and sadly, he has learned little.

N.B. - The Facebook comments above were posted on a very public social media, so I assume the posters wanted them seen by others. I did not reach out to them for permission - but also did not share their names.

Saturday, June 15, 2013

Floating: A Swim in the Woods - A Preview


"A lake is a landscape's most beautiful and expressive feature. It is the Earth's Eye, looking into which the beholder measures the depth of his own nature."
-Henry David Thoreau

With the following series on the film Floating, on which I was the First Assistant Director, I am breaking with one of the tenets of this site; namely, not using real names (no pun intended).

A large part of what made the experience of making this film memorable for me was working with two, then, young actors: Chad Lowe and Norman Reedus (much more on both to follow). A few other actors from the film also went on to notable careers.

It would have been awkward and inconceivable to transmit the experience of working on this film by creating pseudonyms for the two leads, and referring to them as "Actor A famous for (x)" and "Actor B famous for (y)." While I allow my posts to digress at times, cumbersome references are to be avoided.

Norman and Chad were great, and both endured a lot working on a physically demanding film. As the AD, if anything, disagreements with either had to do with them wanting to do too much (again, more later).

The relationship between a 1st AD and a director is always a tricky one, and, on this production, it was not best fit in the world. For various reasons, Bill, the director, and I got off on the wrong foot and the relationship just got worse, being saved in the end by a line producer who came aboard that I had worked with in the past and who I really respected. Having named the film, it's pointless to try and keep the director anonymous. Understand that in keeping with the tone of this blog, any negative comments regarding that relationship are offered with no malice toward Bill. I wish him nothing but the best, and, I'm sure he would agree, there isn't a chance in Hell we would ever work together again.

A little background.

The film took place in Concord, Massachusetts, on a small pond not very far from idyllic Walden Pond made famous by Henry David Thoreau. We filmed in the early Fall of 1996. Those who have followed this blog know that I have worked on a few films that shot in the Fall in idyllic settings, and the results were not always the best.

Floating is an emotionally brutal coming-of-age film on many levels, and features Van (Reedus) as a teen dealing with difficult circumstances. His alcoholic father is responsible for a car crash that killed his mother and left his father an amputee, dependent on Van for everything. Van, an accomplished swimmer, finds true friendship and someone he can relate to in Doug (Lowe), but even that friendship produces problems, as Van, Doug, and Van's friends try to find a "perfect life" in a place where everything seems perfect, but is far from it.

The idea of doing a film with actors in their late teens and early twenties in remote woods in the Fall left me with images of hormones gone amok, a woodsy version of Spring Break. That turned out not to be the case, though the surroundings had other challenges.

At 39 years old at the time, a number of features under my belt,  Floating was a film that had a lot of lessons in store for me. One of them was that while you bring all the tools in your bag, you have to learn which ones to use when, and just going to the same ones isn't always the answer. At that point, I was doing more UPM and line producer work than AD work, and putting on the AD hat, and being quite a bit older than most of the cast, a lot of the crew and the director, I sometimes fell into the role of "Dad," which was not always the best role as AD.

It was probably the first production where age really hit me. The terrain was uneven and difficult, which was a challenge, being a bi-lateral amputee below-knee. Flex feet work best by doing what a real foot does, transferring energy from the heel to the toe as you walk. That works best on flat, solid ground. On Floating, I was dealing with hills or walking on sand, neither of which are strong points for flex feet.

Add to that being older than most of the rest, and that first time you feel the aches of age (any of you who are approaching, or have reached, "middle age" know what I mean). It was my first sense of mortality since my operation.  Up to that point, I had been able to meet every physical challenge and feel great, and while I did on Floating as well, it was now not without drained energy and those few aches.

This is a moment we all hit, a place we meet differently. Like an athlete who has physically lost a step, you start to put your experience to use, getting a good jump in the right direction to make up for that lost step. You start to rely more on experience than dealing with things by the seat of your pants, although there is always plenty of the latter on a film set.  For better or worse, you start to anticipate.

A little of the "depth of (your) own nature" Thoreau noted.

In the next post, an introduction to the cast and crew, as well as prep on Floating.

N.B. - You may have noticed that my posts on Floating are not quite in sequence with other films: Man of the Century and 1999 happened later. Frankly, the issue of how to tell this story took me some time, so I put it off until now. I hope you will find it worth the wait.