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.

Floating: A Swim in the Woods: Why Can't We Be Friends?

"Can't We All Just Get Along?"
-Rodney King

When you're an only child, as I am, being liked is important; sometimes too important. With no siblings who are required to spend time with you, a lack of social skills insures a lonely childhood.

However, as I have observed and discussed with only-children, there is also a fierce sense of independence (not to mention a need for alone time, but that's an issue for another day).

No one is loved by everyone, but this is a business where you are going to work with all types, so if you cannot adjust, cannot let things go, then life is going to be hard. I know producers, ADs, and, for that matter, crew people, for whom every situation is a battle, a test of wills.

It's a rough way to get through a career.

All this by way of trying to understand why Bill, the director on Floating, and I just never got along, not from Day One. The simple answer was that I was always right and he was always wrong; that I was a wonderful, open human being and he was a spoiled kid with a sense of entitlement who had rarely been told "no" in his life. That would not only be simple - it would be a gross oversimplification, and not really the answer.

Part of it may have been the age difference, and the natural tendency of those fresh out of college to have a disdain for authority, on his part, and a lack of patience for explaining why things need to be done a certain way on my part.

The truth is, there are people who rub us wrong. In most situations, you can just avoid that person; as AD and director, that is not an option.

Early on, Bill took a certain delight in defying me on simple procedure. I remember a day when I was getting the keys in motion for one scene when, over the walkie, I hear the wardrobe assistant announce that another scene is coming up next. Yes, the wardrobe assistant.

When I calmly and politely went into HMU (translation: stormed into HMU) to find out why the wardrobe assistant took it upon herself to announce the next scene, and to ask her in a reassuring and loving tone not to do it again (okay, maybe not so loving and reassuring a tone), she quickly pointed out that Bill had just been there, and asked her to announce the next scene he wanted to shoot. When she pointed out that was not what was on the call sheet, he told her that he would correct me later.

Needless to say, Bill and I had a discussion about how things run on set. There are a million reasons why the schedule needs to be the domain of the AD, mostly because he or she knows all the little details about why a specific order works. That is not to say that someone else, say the DP, can't point out to the AD why something else might be good right now, and certainly, if the director really wants to change the order, this is a discussion with the AD, and every attempt should be made to take his needs or concerns into consideration.

The moment I tried to explain this to Bill, it became a "because I said so and I'm the director" moment. Bill had a lot of those, which, when this is the first thing outside of class you have ever directed, is not a good attitude.

From that moment on, we went from a mild dislike to a test of wills. If you have ever been on set where something like this starts happening, it makes things difficult for everyone. I leaned on my professionalism, my experience, and just being older, to try and make it better, but, in retrospect, I'm sure I could have handled it better as well.

One area I was not going to give in on was safety, and Bill (who, BTW, was also an only child) liked to ignore this as well. Being buddies with the three guys playing the locals (Norman, Jonathan and Josh) was really important to him, and so he took every opportunity to show them how cool he was.

There was a scene where Norman's character (Van) rides a motorcycle, and does so quite fast. Norman didn't have a license, which didn't particularly bother me, as we were in the middle of the woods. He also didn't seem to have extensive experience riding, though he insisted he did.

Norman really wanted to do his own motorcycle stunts; he was a hard worker and I respect him going for the reality. So, there was me, and there was Bill and Norman. I chose what I thought was a reasonable middle ground; I would leave it up to our stunt coordinator, who was a seasoned stunt rider.

Our stunt guy told me that he was okay with Norman doing standard stuff, being the guy to ride off, but absolutely not for the stunt. Neither Norman nor Bill was happy with the decision, but I literally stood in front of the bike, legs straddling the front tire, hands on the handle bar, explaining that I would not let Norman start the scene unless he agreed to stop as soon as he cleared frame and to let the stunt rider do it.

He begrudgingly agreed, but, after having clearly discussed it with Bill on the side, took off to do the stunt once he started going as Bill encouraged the DP to keep shooting, making it clear he had planned to ignore me all along.

That night, Bill and the producer (his father) and I met. I was prepared to quit, and was sure he was prepared to fire me, which was fine by me.

However, my 2nd AD, Christine, was instrumental and making it clear to me that it would be a mistake for me to quit, and assured me that I was helping in ways I didn't see. I was fed up, and not the least bit concerned that if I lost the respect of the crew, if it seemed that I was not in control, there was no point in me being there, and it would even be detrimental.

To Bill's dad's credit, he handled it great. He made it clear to Bill that I wasn't going anyplace, and that he (his father) had put a lot of money up to get this done, and he wanted someone with my experience.  Bill was going to learn to work with me.  He also realized that one of the original producers who was trying to do everything was not strong enough, and that without that, Bill and I would always be bucking heads, that I was making too many of the production decisions.

It was at this point that he brought in Mary Feuer, who I had worked with in different capacities on other films. I respected her, and was happy to have her on. That didn't mean she always took my side, or always agreed with me, but the day-to-day got much better, and she was the right person for the job.

Having gotten that pretty much out of the way, we still had an idyllic setting filled with dogs, airplanes, and construction, weather that did not cooperate, too much time in the water and finishing the film on time to get Norman off to his next project. More on those in the next post.




NB: Sorry for the delay in getting this post out - next one should be sooner. Thanks for the patience!

Priorities - Set Safety - A Child HAS Died

There are points in the chronicles of the films I've worked on that I think it's appropriate to address a production issue at greater length, or expand on a point made in one of the production posts. This will be one of those posts.  I refer to these posts as "Priorities," the things we need to focus on in production. I try to post them at times that seem appropriate.  In light of the thirty year anniversary of a Hollywood tragedy last week, and the fact that there were safety issues on the Korean mini-series we are in the middle of chronicling, I thought this would be a good time to address, once again, set safety.

Character is what you do when nobody is looking 
-Various*

A child has not died
-Alfred Hitchcock, upon seeing the frenzy that reports of being behind schedule and/or budget produced on set.


I've always loved the Hitchcock quote above, and I've used it myself to try to give people perspective on set when things are looking bleak.  Let's take a step back, folks.  A child has not died.  Our problems are not a tragedy.

Last week was a sad anniversary; thirty years since not one but two children, as well as veteran actor Vic Morrow, died because of the audacity and ego of director John Landis, and a system that made one man bigger in some people's eyes than common sense and the welfare of those involved.

Those not familiar with the specifics of the incident can read more about the anniversary, and the event, in
this good Slate article marking the anniversary.  The article talks about changes in Hollywood as a result of the tragedy.

What the article implies, but does not actually come out and say, is that Hollywood and the big money people who bank it finally decided that the risk/reward equation was not in their favor.  Any safety to cast and crew are likely considered a side benefit.

Hooray for Hollywood, and changes that inevitably make people safer.  It is reassuring that there are risk management people from the Studio who can act as advocates so cast or crew people who are concerned about their careers need not make the fateful decision that helicopter pilot made.

I don't work in Hollywood, but rather in the "dark" that is low-budget, indie filmmaking, and in that dark, character too often comes up short.

First, an important point.  Film sets are dangerous places, with big equipment being moved around by people who work too-long hours, and where stunts that seem risky - and often can be - are a regular occurrence. Even trained professionals doing everything correctly get hurt, sometimes seriously.  Many of the things cast and crew people do are inherently fraught with a risk that cannot be eliminated  We all accept that to be the case, and I'm not advocating here to expect 100 percent certainty before proceeding.

That is no excuse for the reckless lapses in safety that I know still go on every day somewhere on a film sets, and as the term "guerrilla film-making" becomes even more of a badge of honor, where crews are smaller and set protocol is scoffed at by first-time directors and producers, I fear that accidents will occur more often, and some of them will be serious, if not fatal.

My own brush with this came a year ago when I worked with a gaffer - who works regularly - whose foolishness resulted in serious injuries to him and a fatality on another set.  I won't go into specifics of either project so as not to bring further harm to those involved, but suffice to say that, when I met him a year after this accident, he was changed slightly, but not enough.

It was a set directed by a recent university graduate, who was careless in every aspect of his work, and had one of those egos that didn't care who had to sacrifice what to see his (weak) vision completed.  The DP was a hotshot who had rented a package way bigger than needed to spruce up his reel.  The assistant director was great, and helped keep the director in check as much as possible, with my full support.  I stayed involved with the project only because the producer was in very deep with his own money, and I didn't want to see him take a bigger hit than he needed to.  He was probably one of the nicest people I have met in this business, a person who put his spiritual convictions where his mouth and money was, which is truly rare.

The gaffer in question was a nice enough guy, who tried to be a go-between myself and the DP and director.  On more than one occasion, I had to shut down the director from asking ridiculous turn-around from the crew.

Make no mistake - turn-around is a safety issue.  Long hours may be the norm, but when added to short turn-around, they can lead to mistakes, and sometimes worse.

Film folk like to tell Teamster jokes, but anyone who hasn't driven on a few hours sleep doesn't appreciate the job done on bigger set by these folks.  On smaller, low-budget shoots, the irony is that those with the least experience and lowest pay - the PAs - are often put in the driver seat of set vans carrying crew and vehicles carrying equipment.  They are often not prepared for the hours or responsibility that is thrust upon them, and most afraid to speak up because they feel the most expendable.

For myself, I have always insisted that when PAs are driving crew, they be relieved of set responsibilities for at least reasonable breaks, and, when needed, naps.

Safe handling of guns on set has also been an issue in Hollywood over the years, with some famous deaths.  The proper procedure is known by any AD worth his/her salt, but I still see prop people screw with it.  I found myself sending a prop person off set crying after explaining for something like the tenth time that the gun was not to be left sitting unattended on set (she had assured me she understood proper procedure - and even explained it to me - during prep).  This time, I had to listen to a foolish DP about how "mean" I was to the prop person.

Whether the crew or cast member is male or female. there is a "macho" mentality on set that says "never say no" and "we can do anything."  Sometimes the pressure comes from the director or producer, or sometimes from not wanting to disappoint the crew.  When one of my better camera assistants pointed out safety issues to a gaffer on set, he was told to "stick to his department." (The safety issues included, but were not limited to, cable running through water, and this camera assistant also has G/E experience).

As AD, I am always looking out for actors, but sometimes they don't look out for themselves.  On the set of one film, the scene called for a (now rather well-known) actor to ride a motorcycle through the woods and pull a wheelie.  The actor insisted that, although he didn't have a license, he could do it. I wasn't as worried about the license as I was his safety, and asked the stunt coordinator (who I trusted) to try him out and tell me what he thought.

"This kid can't do that," is what he told me, and when my stunt coordinator tells me something shouldn't happen, it won't on my set.  I found myself literally with my legs astride the front wheel and my hands on the handle-bars while the actor argued he could do it and the director screaming at me.  Finally, we found something safe for him to do with the stunt coordinator doing the more daring stuff.

On the same shoot, which involved a lot of swimming, the 2nd and myself had to talk the lead out of going into the water AGAIN late at night while he had borderline pneumonia.  We put the heavy swimming off until he was better, but again, his concern for "letting us down" led him to keep telling the fool director he would go in again.  One more time, we were the heavies.

My key grip on that shoot was a serious talent out of Boston who was also a certified water safety person.  He was my go-to guy on all the swimming, and it was great that he was an ally on safety precautions in the water.

He had seen the "hero-actor" thing for himself on a shoot he worked in New England where the stunt coordinator had gone over and over the safe way for an actor to go over a bar during a staged bar fight during rehearsal, only for the actor to try and make it look "even better" during the take.  The actor wound up in traction with permanent injuries.

I know a lot of up-and-coming ADs and producers and such read this blog, and I put this out there as a lot of long-standing set protocol is being pushed aside - Safety First is not just a saying.  It has to be an oath, one so important that you are willing to sacrifice a job to protect it.  I know at least two excellent ADs who were fired for insisting on set safety (on non-union shoots, there is no DGA or SAG to protect you).  Both would do it again.

There is nothing ground-breaking in this post, and I'm sure there are pros who are reading this thinking, "oh, c'mon, everyone knows this." I would hope so as well, but that's what I see and hear on too many sets.

We live with the risks we have to take on set.  Those of us in positions of authority must insist on set safety.  People are literally putting their lives in your hands.  Be worthy of the responsibility.






*While American Evangelist Dwight Moody is credited with the quote "Character is what happens in the dark," variations abound and are credited to various people, including Jackson Browne, which I'm pretty sure is a mistake.  We all get the point.