The Debt Has Been Paid

Post by ICG: International Cinematographers Guild (IATSE Local 600).

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.

Beginners Mind, Beginning Again - or the Great Reboot

If your mind is empty, it is always ready for anything; it is open to everything. In the beginner's mind there are many possibilities; in the expert's mind there are few.

Shunryu Suzuki-roshi, Zen Mind, Beginners Mind

After my operation and the frustration of not working while recovering, I was anxious to get back to work, and this time, really put my focus more on film.

My degree was in Dramatic Literature, and I had never studied film, and was starting to feel a little behind the curve on film sets.  I had worked my way up through every job imaginable in theater, and that was what made me so confident.  In film, I was on the production side, and always dependent on people with more technical knowledge.  With this new opportunity, I went back to NYU and took their Six Week Intensive, as well as a screenwriting course. 

Remember what it was like to be a freshman, the excitement of being on campus for the first time?  Being back on the campus of NYU, walking past students in Washington Square Park, but older now, all those feelings came back to me.   Even NYU’s ugly purple logos looked good to me.

I took a number of things from those few short weeks. 

One was our next to final project.  They would choose two scripts, and then split the class up to shoot two versions of each script.  In one night, I wrote a story of a bookie that desperately looks to collect money owed him.  It was, to be kind, homage to David Mamet.  Hey, it was a class project and we had little more than one night to write it.  I love Mamet’s style, the way he invents his own language that is a slang that we think we know but we don’t.

One of my favorite examples of Mamet’s dialogue is from American Buffalo:

"Lookit, sir, if I could get a hold of some of that stuff you were interested in, would you be interested in some of it?"

The other students loved it, and it was picked as one of the projects to shoot.

The catch was that whoever wrote the script could not direct it.  I am thankful for that to this day.  Watching someone else interpret my work gave me insight into the collaborative process of film, and respect for the fact that the written word is only one stage of the process.  One scene brought this clearly into focus.

The scene was one where the bookie goes to a priest who owes him money.  Yes, in my scripts, even the priests were a little shady.  The priest gives him a small part of what he owes.  The bookie is frustrated, but says to the priest “OK, Father, well, if you can’t pay me, at least pray for me.”  I think I wrote the dialogue a little better than that, but I don’t quite remember it verbatim right now.

One of the directors was French, and in his interpretation of the scene, he didn’t change a word of dialogue, but the action of the scene was different.  We open on a close-up of the bookie saying those same words, but, when we go wide, we see that he is holding the priest’s face over a steaming hot pizza.  He lets the scared priest go as he walks out angrily.

I never conceived of the scene this way.  It was my words but it wasn’t my scene.  It was better; much, much better.  I can’t tell you how much this has helped me not only as a writer, but as a producer working with first-time writer/directors .  The auteur in the independent film world is much lauded, but the collaborative process and the ability to bring others’ creativity into your vision makes for a better tapestry and more energy.  One of the great ironies of filmmaking is that it needs to be one person’s clear vision, but it also needs others input to achieve that vision. 

Then there is the issue of taking credit.  We had two German girls in the class, and they could not have been more different.  One was very serious and studious; the other, a model who wanted to be a filmmaker who could not be more flighty.  Stereotypes come from somewhere, and they both represented their own stereotype; the serious, unsmiling German and the ditzy model.  They were friends, and the serious one would sometimes admonish the model to be more serious, to which the model would reply, “Oh, don’t be so German.”  When you’re cute, you can get away with a good deal.

Writing something in English was difficult for them, and the more serious one asked if I would help them write the script they were to submit for the final project.  I forget how many final projects were chosen, but there were few, and if you wrote the project, this time you did get to direct.  I had written my own project – this one better than the last, and had the time to work with them on their project, which was more abstract.

Of course, their project was chosen, and mine was not.  No good deed…

It wasn’t entirely disappointing, though.  Once again, I got to learn a skill I would not have if I had directed, which was editing.  This was old school – you know, where you hung up strips of film?  You’ve heard about it, I’m sure.  I’ve edited on Final Cut, and, no, I wouldn’t go back to cutting film, but it did force you to make harder decisions.   This was the first time I learned a sense of pace and timing.  Overall, I would say it was a very satisfying experience.

There were other good things that came out of that class.  Our teacher, Thierry Pathe, had a very down-to-earth approach to filmmaking, which I always related to better than complex theory.  Sadly, Thierry passed away in 2002.  I also met a few people I would later work with, including someone who would become a great friend, Chris Kelley.  See, I gave his full name, so you know that good things are to come about him, and, indeed, we would work on a number of projects together for more than the next ten years.