In Case of Blizzard, Do Nothing (Or Catch Up On your Blog)

"A snowstorm rewards indolence and punishes go-getters, which is why it's the best natural disaster there is."
-David Dudley, Op-Ed NY Times, 1/23/16

First, a mea culpa.

A few months ago, after a fascinating co-production with an Indonesian company, I started writing about that effort. Then, I got caught up in so much that I found it hard to keep up this blog. I'm going to use this post to get my devoted readers up to date.

Most of my long-time readers know that I try to avoid short, journal-like posts and trend toward more well thought-out articles. Those take some rewriting and reflection, and while I hate to have left these pages empty this last month and a half or so, I'd rather try to offer somewhat interesting and hopefully enlightening and entertaining posts.

Catching up. Here goes.

I will continue the series on Letters For Raisa, the Indonesian film that I understand may be released in Indonesia in February. A trailer is linked below. (A good opportunity to bone up on your Indonesian)



That production, and the insanely good people I was blessed to work with here and from Indonesia, reignited a love for production that had grown dim from what is often the drudgery of low budget filmmaking.

It was then I decided to expand my production services company, Fire Lotus Entertainment, and open up an office in Midtown Manhattan. Working with other production partners, in addition to the production office and my services line producing, I can now put people together with just about any gear, as well as production insurance. If they have the script and the money, we can make it happen.

With help from a talented producing partner, my website, firelotusentertainment.com, was launched in late November. It would not have happened without help from Leigh at Human Storyteller, NYC (follow that link to look at her amazing work!).

As with any effort, it has had it's fits and starts. A very good project, Karma, that is in development and was slated to start production in February is on hold. As usual, funding issues.

I also have been talking with a talented actress, Maria Soccor who made her directorial debut in a big way with a documentary called Lords of BSV. It is about a form of dance born in Brooklyn that many may not know about, and so much more. I'd like to list all of the awards it has won (you can see them on the site) but that would be an article in itself. I have seen it twice. It's truly inspirational to see how, from the roughest conditions, the jewel of creativity emerges. Reminds me of the Fire Lotus, after which my company is named, which grows in the bottom of ponds.

As the zen saying goes: "The Lotus flowers roots are sunk in soot and debris, in fact, the very stuff of our lives." Much like the gorgeous flowers produced there, Lords of BSV is a real treasure. Follow the link to it above to learn more.

Finally, a fascinating project came my way. On Letters for Raisa, a prolific producer and line producer I have known for years and had the pleasure of working for, Aliki, offered to come on as Production Supervisor. I wondered how two line producers would work together, or whether she would be comfortable working for another producer. My fears left on day one, and her graciousness and generosity made it a fantastic experience.

In December, another talented producer and line producer, Nicky, was looking for a location manager. As we were discussing people that I knew, she mentioned that she was also looking for a PM. I offered my services, and she was good enough to bring me on.

I am on what should be Shoot Day 7 of Tokyo NY, a film written and directed by Naghmeh Shirkhan, whose first feature, The Neighbor, was so well-done. Alas, we are in the middle of one of the biggest blizzards in NY history. Today was to be our first major day of exteriors, and the weather is so bad we cannot even shoot interiors. Alas, on film, Murphy's Law truly does rule.

I have tried to be as much an aide to Nicky as Aliki was to me. The thing about putting two talented line producers together is it is like bringing two master chefs together: they can create some new, amazing dishes, but running the kitchen can be awkward at first. We've both made adjustments to how we work, and I am thoroughly enjoying it and thankful for the opportunity to work on what I know will be a unique and fascinating project. Again, more detail on that as we move forward.

Much of the film is in Japanese (with some amazing Japanese performers). After the Indonesian film, and now this, my office manager and receptionist at my office suite asked if I did mostly Asian movies. No, Martina, it just seems that way.

Right now, I am talking to one playwright about adapting a work of his I love for the screen, another playwright about introducing him to some Broadway producers I know, Maria about her next documentary, and, just this morning, with a novelist about adapting her work, all while trying to keep the wheels rolling smoothly on our production's train and listening for Winter Weather Advisories to see how we will (or won't) be able to film tomorrow.

Here I offer my promise to try to catch up on Raisa's story and move forward about the rest in a more timely manner. Thanks for your patience.

In the meantime, some advice from the brilliant David Dudley article quoted in the headline:

"The Snow Gods reserve special contempt for those who don't respect their ability to bring human activity to a standstill. The snow cares not for your deadlines, your happy hour plans, your scheduled C-section (or your Call Time - mine). It wants only to fall on the ground and lie there. And it wants you to, too."

Five Things That an AD IS Not

The list could certainly go on, and there is certainly nothing more wonderful  than a list, instrument of wondrous hypotyposis" - Umberto Eco, The Name of the Rose

If you have a Facebook account (and who doesn't), you have come across an increasing number of links to - for the lack of a better word - "articles" that count down some random list.

You know the ones.

"Seven Things You Never Knew About Kale"

"Six Actors You Never Knew Were Episcopalian"

"Eight Things You Should Never Ask A Hot Dog Vendor"

They are usually the internet version of those magazines you grab at the checkout counter that alternately tell you of a new cure for cancer, or how they know your favorite TV celebrity is actually a visitor from another galaxy.

Sadly,  more and more of them are now part of more respected sources of news.

I used the terms articles in quotation marks because most of them are the type of off-the-top-of-your-head jottings any of us could come up with,  and often do, in places like this - blogs.

As with everything else I do, I probably over-think this blog. I pour over every word, research,  and scratch ideas that fail to come to full fruition.

That does not make this journalism, or high art. However,  if you're going to ask others to use their minds to read something,  you should use yours first.  Yet, these "journalists " who are getting paid to offer up something, are satisfied with these frills - or, really,  no-frills - offerings. As someone who had the pleasure of working with future CNN correspondents, PBS news hosts and network news execs* in college, I find this a soft-core excuse for journalism

This will be one of those.

One of my regular First ADs and I have been friends for many years, and we occasionally share an adult beverage  (or more), as well as our incredulity at the lack of awareness of what a First AD does.

Now, there are a few great blogs on being a First AD (like the one offered by my blog-sister Michelle ), so rather than offer five things your AD does, I will offer five things that you should not expect from your AD. (I use the male pronoun because AD in question is male; your AD's gender may vary.)

#1. First ASSISTANT Director Does Not Mean He Should Help You Direct.

Inspired by my AD's latest experience.

In a group email, the producer asked the director if he had sent a shot list to the AD, who he had just hired.

Now, they had just fired their last DP. The director asked if he were to send it, could AD put the shots in order of shooting.

AD was brazen enough point out that could not happen yet, as he a)had never been on a scout of the location (s), b) had yet to meet the DP, and c) had yet to speak with the director.

Director was upset and decided to go with another AD.

It is my belief that misconceptions about what an AD does start in film school,  where the AD is inevitably someone who, as the t-shirt suggests, just wants to direct. As such, they love having long conversations about the perfect angle, blocking,  mise-en-scene and any other aspect of directing.

In Europe,  I understand that being a First AD is a path to directing. In the U.S., that is not true, and ADs who offer directing advice don't last.

Now, most experienced First ADs have been around the block enough to be helpful when needed in that department. More often, they should be focused on keeping things moving.

Which leads me to #2.

#2 A Good AD Can Lead You to Set, But He Can't Make You Shoot.

This goes for the director and the DP. Let's deal with the director first.

The director must have the scene blocked, and then be ready to shoot. Directors generally call action on takes, and ultimately must decide if they are satisfied and ready to move to the next set-up.

When faced with an indecisive director,  good ADs will employ a series of tricks to keep them moving. Some will anticipate and start to call the roll when they sense the shot is ready but the director is still wavering.  Stan used to encourage me to do this, and let the director stop me if they weren't ready. This was a tactic only to be used as last resort, as it has the potential to cause conflict and undermine one or both.

One of my favorite versions of this was a tough-talking, chain-smoking Mama of an AD who, when she wanted to push a director to move on from one setup to the next, would call out, "Movin' On. You don't want to put your foot through a Rembrandt. "

As for trying to get a slow DP to move faster, suffice to say you cannot ask a DP to shoot when they are not lit or when they don't have frame. I've pissed off enough DPs that I will leave it at that, as I've covered this ground before.

Yes, keeping things moving is part of the ADs job, but that doesn't mean ...

#3 The AD is (Not) A "Grip With An Attitude"

This was the exact phrase a producer once (incorrectly ) used to describe a good AD.

A truly good AD moves the crew along with communication,  and, not unlike a good sports coach, will use various means to encourage a crew to move as quickly - albeit still safely - as possible.

Most crews want an AD to keep everything moving quickly,  as they don't want to spend endless hours on set when they can get home. In those rare occasions where a crew is slow or, let's face it, just a bit lazy (hey, it can happen ), private discussion or talks with department heads are options.

This does not mean screaming at them like the above drill sergeant. 

Past high school football,  this technique rarely goes well. I always remember, and have often reminded more vocal ADs,that we in production may be figuratively be doing some heavy lifting,  but the crew is literally doing it.

Speaking of grips, I once saw an encounter between a bellowing AD, and the grip whose face he decided to get in, which is right on point.

The grip put down the equipment he was carrying,  took a breath, and said,  "I have two speeds, and if you don't like this one,  you definitely aren't going to like the other one. "

#4. The AD is Not a Script Supervisor

I have waxed and swooned about my love for the skill and.craft of script supervisors here. Suffice here to say that it requires laser-like focus on the action, which is impossible if you are also trying to make sure the actors for the next scene are through the works**, checking with art department if the next set is dressed, directing background action, and setting lock-up.

Yet, while no reasonable producer would double the 1st AC job with Best Boy Grip, I still see "keeping script notes" as duties listed in low-budget AD ads.

Somehow, smaller crews means "cut production people " first to many digital producers.

This leads to an even more common pet peeve that is becoming all-too-common.

#5. A First AD Cannot Prep Call Sheets.

The First AD is responsible for the schedule and everyone knowing said schedule. Long ago, in a movie - making galaxy now far, far away, call sheets were invented to distribute this information.

A proper call sheet is a work of art; a finished symphony; a perfect diamond. It also has a great deal of information to fill out, much of which can change right up until it is published. My favorite 2nd AD created a call sheet template (not the one listed below) so perfect that I would hire just for the call sheet alone, if not for the many other fine qualities he brings.

The First AD makes the major decisions on call times and what will be shot, but it is the 2nd AD who must get all this info loaded into the call sheet, in addition to all the other things he is doing. The call sheet is time-consuming and requires some free hands.

Avalokitesvara, the Bodhisattva of Compassion shown above, vowed to not rest until he had saved all sentient beings. He struggled to meet the needs of so many, and his head split into eleven pieces. Amitaba Buddha, seeing his plight, gave him eleven heads to hear the cries of many, but when he reached out to them all, his two arms shattered, and, to once again aid him, Amitaba Buddha blessed him with a thousand arms.

Many a 1st (and 2nd) AD can attest to feeling like their head was going to split into eleven pieces, but all are limited to two arms, and as line producer, I do not have the power of Amitaba Buddha to give them any more.

More and more, First ADs are hired, and then told there will be no budget for a 2nd AD. This means often training a PA, which almost always mean it will be wrong for at least a few times - and teaching call sheets should not be part of the AD's job.

Now, on a very small shoot, with a very small crew, if everyone is fine with gathering everyone and just telling them where, when and what tomorrow, great. However, there is a reason for call sheets, and not having them will cause some level of confusion. 

You can have a proper call sheet and a 2nd AD, or a First AD alone and you do the best you can. You can't have both. Just don't go screaming at your First AD when the Best Boy Electric (I've been picking on grips too often) shows up at the wrong time or the wrong place.

I'm sure every department has it's own complaints. If you ever wondered about the types of things ADs bitch about when they need to blow off some steam, this is a small sample.

*Richard Roth of CNN, Ray Suarez formerly of the PBS News Hour and now with Al jazeera America,  and Bernard Gershon, ABC News and now Gershonmedia.

**Hair, Make-Up and Wardrobe

All in the Family: The Making of Town Diary - The Good...

"Letting go gives us freedom, and freedom is the only condition for happiness"
-Venerable Thich Nhat Hahn*

(This post picks up on the series of posts about a film I produced and co-wrote, called Town Diary. The last in that series is here (it started here), which ends with the end of pre-production. Here starts the story of production.)


Low budget indie films are about Plan B. They are about letting go, which is definitely the only path to happiness in making your movie.

Understand what I'm not saying. I'm not saying that you drop your basic vision for the movie - and you have to have one. Reality is that it will never be exactly what you envision. Ted Hope, a great producer and a source for sage advice in the indie world, in part described it this way recently:

I often say that there is the role of the producer and there is the role of the director that are remarkably similar. The producer comes in and has to extract the big vision, the dream of everything that you want to accomplish, and then cut the legs out from under it and say, “That’s where we’re going. But with these funds, with this story, with this cast, we’re only going to be able to capture forty percent.” And then through work and through structure, hopefully [you can] achieve a place where you get another twenty or twenty-five percent. And then through good engineering, having built a structure where serendipity can occur, where the miraculous might be achieved, you get something more. And then to be able to sit and help the director recognize that you still may not have hit that full vision that you had before you ever shot, but you have something very unique and distinct that you were able to capture.

I can't say if the world owes anyone anything, but I know that the world owes no one a movie. If you get to produce or direct a film, it is a privilege. In this case, while I didn't get to see my name on the slate, I did get to see a script that I wrote actually shot. To hear my words on set and on film spoken by really great actors like Terry Quinn and Angelica Page and Annie Grindlay and Bob Hogan and so many more that I have mentioned.

Making an indie movie is hard - but not as hard as getting one financed, and JR and Jack put down their money and let this come true, all while trusting my decisions as producer.

Some of the good days included seeing Annie do a scene with her "children" not being excited to see their dad, the lead character of Brian, her ex-husband. While my ex and I never had children, I could still feel the heartbreak in the room.

Terry Quinn was every bit as terrifying as we imagined, all while being a very real and human character.

Luke Reily, as Frank Ryan, sold a scene where he talks about the vagaries of 'doing what's right' when it harms other people.

My dear friend, Angelica Page gave me maybe my best day.

She came in off the red-eye from LA, a flight, for those who are not familiar, leaves a person having lost three hours and landing early in the AM NY time. It often takes a lot out of people.

She had one scene where she is interviewed by a reporter. The reporter has a few questions, but it is pretty much a four page monologue where she coldly describes viaticals, a practice of buying insurance policies for pennies on the dollar which became "popular" during the AIDS crisis of the 80s and early 90s. Angelica is an amazing actress, and it took that to pull this off and make it believable.

She got out of make-up, showed us the wig she chose (she gave Jack and I cursory right of approval - of course, it was perfect) and then sat down to rehearse the scene.

All through the rehearsal, when she would try something out, she would call for "line" from the script supervisor. Usually, this is a clue that the actor may not, in fact, know their lines.

Jack was concerned. Was she going to be alright? Was it maybe the flight?

As I've said, her mom was the great Geraldine Page, who was not only a great actress but a founding member of The Actors' Studio. Angelica is on the board. Professionalism runs deep with Angelica, so much so that she once related a story of chastising a rather famous actor in an airport scene for not knowing his lines.

It was this discussion and others about professionalism that made me confident, and I told Jack she would be fine. I never asked her if there was a problem.

The minute we rolled camera, the lights went on; not just those that provided an image for the camera but within Angelica. She nailed it the first time. We did a second master for safety. She nailed it again. We did her CU - she nailed it once more.

As we were relighting for the reverse on the "interviewer," I stopped by her holding room. She grabbed my arm and asked "JB, was that okay?" She really did care what I thought, and thanked me for giving her the opportunity to do the role.

"It was more than okay," I told her. "It was great."

He face changed from questioning to recognition. She grinned and said, "Mommy knows how to get home." As she had told me often before, she knew that if you show up and do your job, it can be a short day for everyone with none of the stress. Her reaction was classic, and almost as good as the scene for me.

There were many other great performances and days of satisfaction. But, of course, there were those days that were not. If this post is entitled "The Good..." you can imagine what the next two posts will be entitled.







N.B. Sorry for the delay between posts. Been dealing with some personal issues, and also basically outlining and roughing all three posts about the making of - this and the ones to come - to make them part of a whole and not miss anything. I'm certain as soon as I hit "publish" I will think of more good things - but it's time to put it up there.



*At this writing, the Venerable Thich Nhat Hahn, the great Vietnamese Buddhist leader, is battling a brain hemorrhage. It may be why he was in my thoughts as I searched for a quote this week. Please send out whatever good vibes you can.

When The Music Stops

"When the music's over
Turn out the lights"
-Jim Morrison

Don't worry. I'm not ready to retire. Not just yet. Or, maybe, I am again.

At wrap of any project, Stan used to smile and say "Well, another gold watch!" As you might imagine, we don't get gold watches at the end of shoots, nor is there a retirement party. As producer or line producer, though, it's rare that you are jumping right into another project.

Movie shoots are an adrenaline rush, and like people in any situation driven by adrenaline, there is bound to be a reaction when the rush is over. Certainly, athletes and military folks famously experience this sort of feeling when, after a long time being needed in crucial situations, suddenly, you are not.

For production, it is even harder, because even though the filming is over, your job is not. There is the period of wrap, where a LOT of paperwork has to happen.

Line producing low budget shoots, this can be excruciating. Normally, I keep my office staff on for a week. While that is enough time to get returns done, settle out with vendors, make sure all crew is paperwork and invoices are done, and petty cash floats are accounted for, that is not the end of it.

Unlike money producers, I will not be that involved in the marketing or selling of the picture, which would be the next step for those folks. Pretty much my responsibility ends with production.

On an Ultra Low film like ours, I kept my staff on for a day - and then, only the trust-worthy and ever-loyal production coordinator, Tasha.

SAG has a lot of paperwork that has to be completed to get the bond you put up at the beginning of the shoot returned. First, they need to have proof from payroll that everyone was paid, with all of those totals.

Then, there is the issue of reconciling the budget. On a bigger shoot, this is not too insane, as there is an accountant, assistant accountant, etc. On lower budget shoots, we handle everything. This can takes a few days.

As grueling as shoot days are, the truth is, they are the best for a line producer. They are, as the phrase I used often with my newer staff goes, one foot in front of the other. You have prepared all you can, and you just keep everything moving as smoothly as possible while problem-solving.

Prep is filled with all the onerous details and to-do lists, and the constant fear that either something won't get done in time or will fall through. This location hasn't been found; not sure if that prop will arrive on time. We are replacing which cast member because they dropped out? What do you mean the script supervisor took a better gig?

Once you start shooting, there are no worries - just solutions. Fix it as fast and as well as possible, and, to use another over-used phrase of mine, it is what it is. No time to worry about it.

The height of adrenaline.

Now, in post, you are at your home office, surrounded by supplies and petty cash envelopes and invoices and SAG documents and so much more. What, I didn't know about this ticket. What do you mean there was loss or damage you didn't notice on return date? No, I'm not sure where this thingamajig is, or that what-do-you call it is. I will call the gaffer/art director/last PA to do drop-offs/anyone else who might know the answer.

All of this is being done in that post-adrenaline rush, and, without the satisfaction that comes every shoot day from seeing great footage in the can. In the can. Such a sad phrase. With actual film rarely being shot at this level, the data is on drives. In the can sounds so cool. In the drive? Doesn't really work for me.

On this last shoot, where getting it 'in the can' in 12 days and looking as good as it did was such a thrill (and on budget) the post-shoot blues were even worse for me, made even worse by the lack of wrap week for my staff. As usual, I had no one with whom to be upset. It was the budget that determined that I could not afford to keep them, not someone telling me we could not.

So often, in production, when that frustration or anger comes up, you have nowhere to look but the mirror, or the myriad of circumstance. As AD, when you write 5AM as a call time because you need every second of daylight, there is no one else to curse when the alarm goes off at 3:30AM. As line producer, it is you who wrote the budget that now leaves you alone surrounded by paper.

This time, it also coincided with some health issues, and the process seemed particularly painful and stressful. I found it a little helpful to have put up five posts talking about the process, but the rest? Ugh.

So, it has also taken me a bit to get back to the blog, and telling the story of Town Diary, which I left off right before we started shooting. Switching gears has been a little difficult.

I am back at it, though, and those posts will hopefully resume later this week. Until then, I hope this post offered a little look into what happens for production when the music stops for a line producer.

We (Do Not) Have the Technology

"It is only when they go wrong that machines remind you of how powerful they are."
-Clive James

Once the technology to do something exists, there is nothing more frustrating than it not doing what you want it to do.

In preparing a short series on a software I truly like, Jungle Software, the makers of of Gorilla and other production systems, I was reminded of those instances of what happens when technology does not work to your advantage.

Case in point: On my last feature, the script was written in Celtx.

Yes, Celtx is free, and, as Stan used to say, oh, the high cost of free.

Understand that for many years,scripts were typed, schedules typed, call sheets hand-written, and stripboards were really strips of cardboard. That is all well and good, but once we moved on, we should never have to move back.

For me, the prime example of the "never go back" principle is the coffee cup lid.

One day, some bright person figured out that instead of having to tear open a portion of the lid randomly, the lid could be perforated to offer the perfect opening from which to drink.

Surprisingly, this patent suggests that the technology was created in 1980 - exactly 11 years after we put a man on the moon and thirty-five years after we harnessed the atom so we could kill more people more quickly. It seems the boys at NASA and/or the Manhattan Project, respectfully, could have figured this one out during one of their, well, coffee breaks.

What does this have to do with making movies, or Celtx, you ask? Making revisions and sharing.

I am not going to get into comparing every software option for screenwriting - and certainly there are a number of ways that work, including simple templates in Microsoft Word, but I think most people in the business would find Final Draft the most convenient software from both a script creation and, more importantly, production-friendly standpoint.

I have previously discussed the role of script supervisor and script revisions, so I won't repeat that here. On his wonderful site lineproducing.com, Stephen describes how to do revisions using Final Draft.

In the internet age, making revisions to any document and being able to share that document and those changes is important. Celtx made both of these difficult, even after we moved out of free mode and "upgraded" to some of their "premium" tools.

I am no tech whiz, and if it were just me, then I would concede a lack of sophistication with the software. However, the process stumped me, my production coordinator, my producer, and my First AD. It seemed at every step along the way, you could not, as they say, get there from here. You could do one thing but not the other You could do it on your computer but not share it. When even my aforementioned genius script supervisor could not do it, I broke down and hired a PA to retype the script into Final Draft, after which the revisions were simple and share-able.

This is not an attack on Celtx. This is the same frustration every time you discover that any advanced program (and I am not accusing Celtx of being an advanced program) does not do precisely what you want it to do, and it takes you longer to figure out how to do it than to have, say, just done it the old way. We encountered similar (but not nearly the same) frustration with Dropbox, and, to a lesser extent, Google Drive.

At one point, the director's email account was not properly receiving or sending emails, "eating" them, as we like to say.

Then there was the junction box we rented, which did not seem to get us wifi in some of the places we needed wifi.

These are, to be sure, Third World Problems. To use one of my favorite Hitchcock quotes, a child did not die. On the scale of progress of Mankind, these aberrations would have produced barely a glitch.

Still, once one gets accustomed to having these conveniences, being deprived of them seems all the more painful.

On the production side, there are certainly a number of companies that offer great software that save us time and effort, including EP Movie Magic, which I used to teach at New York Film Academy.

However, for a number of years, I have enjoyed using Jungle Software, which initially was just Gorilla, but has now grown to a larger family of production-related software. There are many reasons why Gorilla is the software I prefer, and I will explore those in a few posts where I interview Aaton Cohen Sitt, the President of Jungle Software.

Here's hoping that, until then, your version of Hal 9000 never says to you:

"Im sorry. I can't allow you to do that."

The Unattainable - Part 6 - Done and Done

"I don't throw darts at a board. I bet on sure things. Read Sun Tzu. The Art of War. Every battle is won before it is ever fought." - Gordon Gekko, Wall Street. 

You know all the movie quotes about the business world. Gekko in Wall Street and Blake (Alec Baldwin) in Glengarry Glen Ross both generate enough to fill a semester at Wharton's*.

"Greed is good."
"Always be closing"
"It's all about bucks, kid. The rest is conversation."
"Get them to sign on the line which is dotted"
"Lunch is for wimps."

Ok, the last one I might agree with, as I tend not to eat lunch when I'm working.

As for the others, and the million other quotes that have come from the generations of business people since the 80s who think that success in business is somehow a religion in need of scripture, the quotes are over-simplifications that are annoying as hell, the adult version of childhood sing-song nonsense that sound good but mean nothing.

The remnants of an age when we glorified yuppies who had built nothing and, as Carl Fox says in Wall Street, don't understand:

"Stop going for the easy buck and start producing something with your life. Create, instead of living off the buying and selling of others."

That's why we got into the arts, isn't it? There really are no easy bucks here for most, regardless of where you are in the chain.  For crew, there's a lot of heavy lifting and standing around in weather that is too hot or too cold. For production. there is too much of your time in development that you never get paid for, and working for a back end that often feels like a kick in another kind of back end.

For actors, there's waiting tables and spending more on headshots and acting coaches than you make in a year when you start.

For all, there are long hours.

For people like me, then, macho-sounding business quotes are like nails on a chalkboard.

Why, then, did I start the overuse of the phrase "Done and done" on this shoot? Why would I?

As line producer, approving things (or not) is part of the routine. From check requests to crew invoices to call sheets, you are constantly signing off on things.

In the beginning, especially with a production coordinator I had not worked with before, you look each thing over very carefully, make sure you are the one approving and not letting others make the decision, and make sure your POC knows why you are approving.

Then, the routine kicks in. They know what you are going to approve or not approve, for the most part. The conversations become shorter, the review quicker. You develop a short-hand.

Finally, our short-hand got shortened to "Done and done."

"We need to order toner."

You get past the point where you need to ask if we really need more toner or if they think what we have will last.

"It's 4AM and there is no train and the PA wants to know if they can take a cab to the truck rental house and pick up the personnel (15 passenger) van that is picking up crew in an hour?"

No, I'm going to save the few bucks on the cab and let the half the crew get to set late and start the entire day behind. Of course, let them take a cab.

With a thousand little decisions like this, you begin to delegate, but form still says you need to approve, and for those few times when you decide you will not approve - and they will come up - things still need to be run by you.

Hence, we still need the approval process. The question still needs to be asked, but the answer need not be as long.

Done and done.

Pretty soon, it became a catch-phrase in the office, with my POC using it often,when she wasn't mimicking the whistle that is the notification on my Samsung devices for messages, and driving my assistant and the APOC to distraction!

My APOC got into the act as well. "As Papa Bear says, done and done."

I've never used this regularly before, and I still don't know why I started to here. Fact is that I did, and it was, yes, done and done.

Having devoted a well-deserved entire post to my script supervisor, it is only fair to mention here how great my small but effective office staff was on this movie.

Megan, my coordinator, was actually my boss on a reality show. She worked 24/7, as we all did, on the internet and phone most of her days off, while also taking classes, and got an A! The role-reversal is actually one of the things I love about this business - my mentor, Stan's last gig was as my production manager. It never bothered him, and I would be honored if my last gig was working for one of my proteges (or hopefully Megan again!), which would not surprise me in the least. They are so damn smart.

I can be stuck in my ways at times, and Megan was incredibly flexible, while not being afraid to offer possible different solutions. That she remained chipper to my sometimes droll demeanor made the office a better place.

Me and my Megan, according to one crew member

(Yes, I used the picture before in this series - still thought it made sense here. Don't make me shoot you!)

Early on, I warned her about burning out the APOC and the producer's assistant. yet it was she who had to remind me at times to let them go home when I needed just one more thing.  For all the amazing things she did - and there were many - the way she watched out for the office staff really made me happy, showed that she kept human beings in perspective with the job.

Tasha was our APOC. Bright and hard-working, there was never a complaint when she had to re-do the sides she had already started, or whether "do this right now it's a priority" became "oh, we have a run for you and forget what you're doing" two minutes later. Though working for an insanely low salary, she, too, had the pride in her work to not only be online on her days off, but more than once came in to solve a problem on a day off - once solving a rather huge problem that no one else could have at that moment.

Aalika was the producer's assistant, and while working for all the producers, did most of her work for me. This is a position I use on every shoot. It's really hard, as it basically means all the stuff that falls through the cracks falls on the person in that position, and, in her case, much of this was responsibility for things she had never done.

This meant I had needed to take time to show her things, but, as the running joke became in the office, actually getting my undivided attention sometimes seemed like it would require a super-power. Somewhere half sentence, my phone would ring, an email would hit, someone would come into the office looking for me. On set, someone would be calling for me on the walkie.

There would be Aalika, knowing I would soon be asking her if something was done which I had not given her the complete information on. To say she was patient was an understatement, yet she filled so many tasks that were so important that it's hard to know what we would have done without her.

Here would be a good time to point out the help of a usual suspect who I know will be in the position to hire me soon, Maura. A young woman who just recently described herself as a "twisted carebear" Maura was my coordinator, my UPM and my 2nd AD on other jobs, and has since gone on to run bigger offices. She is a detail whiz - details are not my strong point  and she was endlessly helpful the few days she worked, taking that time with Aalika, who was the person on this shoot who found herself handling the dreaded SAG paperwork, and, as far as we know, did not take anyone's life in retaliation. That is, when Maura was not giving them tips on how not to let me steal their pens.

With that, I am going to move on from this shoot, at least in this blog. Principle photography is over, and while additional photography is planned, it's time to close this chapter. This is one I definitely cannot wait to see at the screening.

Until then, we are, done.  And done.

Left to right. Aalika, Tasha, Me, Courtney (our wonderful producer) and Megan in our home. Always nice to be surrounded by this many smart, beautiful women.

*Wharton's School of Business - one of the top business schools

The Unattainable - Part 3 - The Seat of Wisdom

Scripty Extraordinaire Melissa

"She comes in colors everywhere,

She combs her hair

She's like a rainbow.

Coming, colors in the air

Everywhere

She's like a rainbow."

-She's a Rainbow, Rolling Stones

My admiration for script supervisors was made clear in a previous post. When it came time to hire a script supervisor for The Unattainable, I reached out to Andrea, who is pictured in that post.

She was not available. I explained the complexity of the script; that we would be shooting in digital and 16MM, that the script would be broken down into present, past and voice-overs that were part of the lead character's imagination.

She gave me one name - that of our scripty above, Melissa.

I spoke to Melissa briefly, and then sent her out our latest copy of the script at the time.

At the time, we had not published a script, which was undergoing constant revisions, and continued to do so right up until and after filming.

In order to keep track of changes in all paperwork, starting with the script, a color code is used to distinguish revisions. In the case of the script, the line producer, AD and script supervisor will confer on whether the changes are few enough to just color code certain pages, or go to a new color entirely.

The guide we used was: white, blue, pink, yellow, green and goldenrod. The standard color code includes more colors, but in order to save us the cost of buying even more reams of different colors (remember, this same code is used for paperwork such as schedules, vendor and crew lists, etc) I cut it off at Goldenrod.

Coming, colors everywhere. It is, indeed, like a rainbow, with a wash of different colored paperwork.

This being a very low budget project, I had originally budgeted one day of prep for script supervisor, which clearly was not going to work with our complex script.

For one thing, there was establishing a timeline. Designers needed to know what happened when, hair and makeup needed to know if this was our leads now or five years ago, the AD needed to schedule so as to not constantly having us change set dressing and the rest during the middle of the day.

The director had a very clear timeline, and it was laid out on index cards along one of her walls. She would show it to anyone who wanted to reference the timeline. When I say it was laid out on a wall, it was an entire wall, floor to ceiling.

The prospect of carrying around the wall was, well, not very enticing. We needed something simpler.

We needed the right person. After getting Melissa's initial response to the script, I knew she was the right person. I knew we had to have her, and looked to get her together with our director as soon as possible.

Below is a somewhat edited and redacted (national security, proprietary information, and all that - very hush hush as they used to say in the spy movies) version of her first email explaining how she broke down the script.

I have attached my Short Form Breakdown by Scene Number below.  .  Everything after Sc11 is supposed to be chronological 

A few notes: 

1952 = Harry's birth year

1970 = Harry goes to Vietnam

1956 - 1975 = Vietnam War

10/1/2000 = FEMALE & Kevinbegin dating

10/15/2003 = Our story begins (Sc31)

2004 - 2006 = FEMALE & KEVINPAST

2010 = FEMALE & Harry's PRESENT

I will fill in the other details later.

Please let me know if you have any questions/comments/etc.

Best,

Mel

Here is the chronological list that (directors assistant) made yesterday:

LIST OF SCENES BY TIME

PAST: (x)scenes

PRESENT:(x)scenes

ATEMPORAL/IMAGINATION: (x)scenes

TOTAL: 124 scenes

The Short breakdown she refers to starts like this

Scene Location Characters D/N Date Time 1/8s ERT

Scene Location Characters D/N Date Time 1/8s ERT

Scene Location Characters D/N Date Time 1/8s ERT

1 EXT. DOCK BY THE SEA (FLASHBACK) - AFTERNOON D10 Sat-10/08/2005 12:36P

1 EXT. DOCK BY THE SEA (FLASHBACK) - AFTERNOON D10 Sat-10/08/2005 12:36P

1 EXT. DOCK BY THE SEA (FLASHBACK) - AFTERNOON D10 Sat-10/08/2005 12:36P

2 INT. PRISON VISITING ROOM (FLASHBACK) - DAY D11 Sun-10/09/2005 2:10PM 2 5/8 2:37

2 INT. PRISON VISITING ROOM (FLASHBACK) - DAY D11 Sun-10/09/2005 2:10PM 2 5/8 2:37

2 INT. PRISON VISITING ROOM (FLASHBACK) - DAY D11 Sun-10/09/2005 2:10PM 2 5/8 2:37

3 EXT. DOCK BY THE SEA (FLASHBACK) - DAY D10 Sat-10/08/2005 1:43PM 2/8 0:15

3 EXT. DOCK BY THE SEA (FLASHBACK) - DAY D10 Sat-10/08/2005 1:43PM 2/8 0:15

3 EXT. DOCK BY THE SEA (FLASHBACK) - DAY D10 Sat-10/08/2005 1:43PM 2/8 0:15

4 CREDITS OF FILM Z 1/8 0:08

4 CREDITS OF FILM Z 1/8 0:08

4 CREDITS OF FILM Z 1/8 0:08

5 INT. APARTMENT, EAST VILLAGE, NYC - DAY D17 Mon-09/20/2010 3:43PM 7/8 0:53

5 INT. APARTMENT, EAST VILLAGE, NYC - DAY D17 Mon-09/20/2010 3:43PM 7/8 0:53

5 INT. APARTMENT, EAST VILLAGE, NYC - DAY D17 Mon-09/20/2010 3:43PM 7/8 0:53

6 INT. BAR (IMAGINATION) - NIGHT Z16 Sun-09/19/2010 10:33P

6 INT. BAR (IMAGINATION) - NIGHT Z16 Sun-09/19/2010 10:33P

6 INT. BAR (IMAGINATION) - NIGHT Z16 Sun-09/19/2010 10:33P

7 EXT. HALFWAY HOUSE - NIGHT N16 Sun-09/19/2010 11:28P

7 EXT. HALFWAY HOUSE - NIGHT N16 Sun-09/19/2010 11:28P

7 EXT. HALFWAY HOUSE - NIGHT N16 Sun-09/19/2010 11:28P


This is a small part of the work Melissa did.

As we moved forward, Melissa's understanding of the script became crucial to every aspect of the shooting, and I have to say she was more involved in helping to get coverage and tell the story than most supervisors I have had the chance to watch work.

One day in particular that I remember was our Day 2. It was all meant to take place INT THEATER. At one point, the DP got the idea of shooting one section EXT in order to break up the shots and give us an intro the those scenes.

What time of year was it? Was she wearing a coat? If so, how heavy?

As our first team was discussing it, Melissa calmly looked at her notes and said, "It's January 20th, 2011."

End of discussion.

Her daily notes continued to not only help for editing, but helped me know details about what was happening during the day that would have been impossible for someone else to keep up.

I've waited some time for script supes to get me notes in the past; Melissa's were usually within two hours of wrap. She gave credit to some software she said she was using - I think she secretly created the software and just didn't want us to know. After my AD, she was the second person I would seek out when I came to set to get a sense of what was happening.

As with most movies, the color wheel kept on turning, with schedule revisions necessitated by actor availability (we were sharing our male lead with a TV show filming in LA) and locations.  My small but incredibly efficient production office kept us constantly with the proper color, as "Megan, what color vendor list are we on?" would be answered with something like "Pink, but don't publish that one yet - we're still revising it."

I often wonder if we make making movies too hard, if we secretly enjoy it more if it's more of a challenge. Somewhere, people work with those simple, boring scripts I referred to in the start of this series. As my long-time AD once said when we were doing a complicated dolly shot through every room in a house on an Indian-American co-production a few years back, "JB, remember when people used to point the camera and shoot? What ever happened to that.?"

Maybe it's me, and I'm just drawn to more challenging scripts, having become numb to the endless stream of scripts that just regurgitate the same, worn-out plot lines and characters.  Indeed, sitting through trailers for upcoming films the other day, I wondered if I was in a revival house, watching movies that were just remakes of older movies, either clearly or inferred.

What I do know is that on this film, on this script, I was glad to have this lady.

"Have you seen her all in gold(enrod - my edit)
Like a Queen in days of old
She shoots colors all around
Like a sunset all around"

For this shoot, no, I have not seen a lady fairer.

The Unattainable - Part 1 - That's Not What Productions Are Made for

The script for our feature is based on a novel; more precisely, a book of aphorisms.

Aphorisms have a long and distinguished place in literature, going back to the Ancients. Wiki describes them as "an original thought, spoken or written in a laconic( concise) and memorable form."

This original script had a few key, diverse characters who muse on life, and centered around a main female character who is a  writer. We will call her Justine.

Justine has two important men in her life; her ex-husband, who we will call Kevin, and her long-time lover, who we will call Harry. By the end of the story, she has found a third man in her life, a theater director.

She loves them all in one form or another, and each fills a place in her life. Together with some fellow writer and artist friends, she explores on the nature of love and relationships and why we do - and need to do -what we do.

All of this is beautifully laid out in the book. Presenting this on screen is slightly more difficult.

When I first read the script, I was intrigued by the wit and depth of insight. Many of the scenes were two or more characters presenting their struggles through these musings. The play had been originally scheduled for 18 days, at a modest budget (budget numbers always being confidential, even without an NDA). While it seemed a challenging schedule given the script pages covered, I thought we could accomplish it, as scenes with two to three characters talking, no stunts, etc. tend to be rather easy to film.

My first hint that this would not be the case was my first almost 3 hour meeting at a coffee shop with the director, A bright, organized, prepared woman with an incredible visual sense and background, she revealed her visual references. While there would be the literal action of the scenes, there would be sub-text, presented through voice-overs that were more "temporal," to use the words of my amazing script supervisor.

Every draft of the script improved the movie exponentially. Following Murphy's Law that No Good Deed Goes Unpunished, every improvement made the script more difficult to shoot. Additionally, the producers and director had hired an experienced Director of Photography with an ability to bring exactly this type of movie to life, but also wanting and needing the proper time to get the beautiful shots I have since seen in dailies.

Additionally, constant changes right up until beginning of shooting make the schedule a moving target; never a good thing for production.

Here is an irony I have learned from years of making movies. Boring scripts are easy to shoot. As someone who has budgeted 34 scripts in the past year, the easiest for me is when there are few characters in few locations mostly talking. For the line producer breaking down a script, two characters talking for 6 pages in one location - preferably something simple like a park bench or their apartment - means a quick breakdown, budget and turnaround of both.

It also makes for a movie most people will sleep through.

The nightmare in breaking down a script is many short scenes in many locations. You are adding many more sheets, and scheduling becomes difficult because of company moves and the difficulty shooting out performers.

This makes for a fast-paced movie people that will keep people sitting up in their seats.

So, there's the rub. Boring script; easy for production. Challenging, engaging script; challenging for production.

All this got me thinking of the quote from John Augustus Shedd that a DP friend of mine keeps in her room: "A ship is safe when it is in harbor, but that is not what ships are built for." It's the challenge we are always presented with, whether we realize it or not.

On this film, we are definitely not in harbor.



N.B. Because production has kept me insanely busy, I have not been keeping up the blog as I had hoped. With luck, I will catch you all up over this holiday break.

The Great Man Directs - Part 2 - The Best and The Brightest

"I feel my job is to create an atmosphere where creative people can do their best work."
-John Frankenheimer

I love the picture and quote above for so many reasons.

Along with Billy Wilder, John Frankenheimer is one of my favorite directors. His work in the early days of live television dramas in series like Playhouse 90 was about as good as it gets, yet his work never got bogged down in one period, he was constantly growing and changing, so while his career starts with these old anthologies, they go through a film career that starts with classics Birdman of Alcatraz and Seven Days in May, and go right up to Ronin with Robert DeNiro and Reindeer Games with Ben Affleck. While he was best known as an action director, the drama in his films was what was most compelling, and no two of his films look alike.

Oh, and he directed one of my dad's favorite films, The Train, with Burt Lancaster. My dad would scour the TV Guide (no "channel guide" on the remote - and no remote!) for it, and, much to my mother's dismay ("How many times are you going to watch that movie?") he would never miss it when it played on one of the old movie channels (then WPIX and WOR in NYC - this was WAY before cable).

He also started as an assistant director, and is one of the rare folks who went the route from AD to director in the US, a path much more common in other countries.

Next, I love the classic pose. In today's WYSIWYG (what you see is what you get) world of film-making, one can trust the monitor to tell you precisely what you will see. I remember DP's in the 35MM age telling directors not to worry about the lighting because the monitor didn't show that. No more.  There was a time a director had to collaborate and work with his Director of Photography and then trust him, as the only one following the image was the trusty cameraman, and that through the small eyepiece.

In those days, figuring out shots could work by using your hands as a "frame," later, viewfinders did a better job of that.

This leads to the quote, which gets to the heart of filmmaking, which is collaboration, and, in turn, trust.

One of my motto's for successful filmmaking is :"Hire good people and let them do their job."

Most people would nod at the first part of that statement, fewer take the second part as seriously as I do.

I've spoken of my process of choosing crew as well as casting; because, in this case, as it would be very small, there were fewer concerns, but they were more important.

The casting decision had been made when I did the play; I cast a woman who I had worked with on her short film, a film she wrote, directed and acted in called The Retreat. I was also very impressed with her in a short called Resolution of Two, in which she played a much different character.

The female lead, Elizabeth, was crucial, as she drives the story. I was sure Chelsea was perfect for it, so I saw no need to audition people for the role. Was there possibly someone who would impress me more in an audition? Surely. However, how would I ever really know what they were capable of the way I did with Chelsea. Watching someone work, you know so much more.

She had done a lot of film, and no stage. That didn't bother me; I had directed stage and knew I could work with her on those things she needed. She turned out even better than I could have imagined.

For the role of her husband, she suggested Jimmy. After he auditioned, I thought he was a good fit. The fact they had worked together was a big plus for me. Before I made my final decision, Chelsea shared that they were a couple, and living together. From my perspective, that was only a plus, but I appreciated her professionalism in being straight about it. He did have stage experience, and also worked in the business as an editor.

From my perspective, and that of just about everyone who saw it, the play had been a success. That is why Dennis , the executive producer of the series, asked if I wanted to shoot it as a short. I had worked with Dennis on a reality show a year earlier, and on one of them, I was story producer. When I first cut it, it was a good, professional, story - and not too exciting. We discussed it, and, though not convinced, I re-cut it as a reality show, and from the first moment, I knew he was right. I knew there was a better story there, and Dennis pushing me helped bring it out.

A sample below - it is in multiple parts on Youtube if interested.




Dennis was the impetus behind making this a short, though I also have to thank Deepika, who did a great job producing the play, and Laura. the master organizer working with Dennis.

I said in the last post that I had been a snob about how I would direct my first project, that I would want a full crew. So, why did I let go of my resistance to a small, almost-no-budget project?

We were shooting what amounted to two scenes (I added a scene to the play) in one location with two people. I saw how it could be done if we had the right DP, and that right DP was Adam Richlin. I had worked with Adam as a producer, but never as a director, but I really believe he is one of those young DPs who is going to be a star.

He has worked other positions on crews for me, including AC and gaffer, and that was even more reason why I liked him. Some people dabble at a lot of things and are master of none. Adam has, in the (relatively) few years he has been doing this, made himself as master at every position. which only makes him a better DP.

Too many DP students come out of film school calling themselves DPs, when they haven't worked their way up. Adam is just the opposite. You know how baseball announcers always pine over players they call "throwback" players, guys who remind them of the hard-working players of the past? In the best sense of the word, Adam is a "throwback" DP, old-school, call it what you want.

He gets it.

With all of that, he also is as sharp about the latest gear, and how things work, as anyone. In that respect, he reminds me a little of my old friend, John Rosnell, who we used to jokingly call "Geppetto" after the fictional character who tinkered and made Pinocchio. Adam knows the ins-and-outs of gear as well as anyone I know.

He brought with him two amazing folks,  a gaffer and an AC, and together, they were like an army.

I sent Adam two things - a script lined with what I saw as my shots, and an example of how I wanted to do my singles. which, in many cases, were more like dirty twos, favoring one character. The example, from Frankenheimer's directing of Days of Wine and Roses for Playhouse 90, can be seen below.


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yXysWxsFtUg

This is a style Frankenheimer employed in other shows as well, singles that clearly favored one character but still had the reaction from the other. Profiles. Done badly, it looks like clunky, stagy soap opera. Done well, and cutting well, it can tell more of the story in a fuller manner.

I actually thought Adam might fight me on it, as it's an odd framing. He made it work, and got why I wanted it immediately. However, when he thought it didn't work, he would push for clean singles, and in at least a few instances, he suggested it just as I was thinking the same, that this style wasn't working for these lines.

That's collaboration.

Trust was important, as we only had the on-board monitor, and once I saw the original framing, I had to trust that Adam was getting what we discussed on moving shots, or with character movement. This may seem like heresy to those who only know digital, but monitors are not as old a convenience as many might think. I love video village as much as the next guy, but I worked many 35mm films where the DP would get to see the shot through the camera lens, then leave it to the DP.

The shot list was a guide for me. Knowing what I wanted. Adam and I went back to my age-old favorite method.

BLOCK. LIGHT. SHOOT.

This does not mean I do not encourage people to do shot lists or storyboards - it is essential homework. For me, however, once that guide is established, I like to leave room to see how it plays in the room. This is a truly personal preference, and, admittedly, I am always thinking of how best to capture the performance and tell the story, not "how can I get the coolest shot."

A story is a living, breathing thing, and I think forcing actors to stick to pre-determined actions can lead to losing some spontaneity.

I'm sure the above will be misinterpreted as "you don't need a shot list or storyboard." I encourage you to read what I said again, but will accept what comes.

It is, in part, why the DP earned the respect they get - they were not just an extension of the director; they were, indeed, directing the photography. I think I asked Adam to see playback three times all day, and one of them was for the final shot, which had many moving parts. I had to know that I had my ending. Other than that, I trusted him, and looking at the footage now, I know I did the right thing.

If I regret anything, it was not bringing on a script supervisor. I have preached the importance of one, and yet, at the last minute, thought I knew how I wanted to cut well enough that I could work without one.

It was a mistake, one I realized early on in the day. It is not that I was concerned with continuity - I'm sure we got that - but rather, that one more objective eye, and notes for things you can't remember.

Still, my theory of how I wanted to shoot prevailed. Hire the best and brightest. The phrase was made popular by the title of the David Halberstam's brilliant book on President John F. Kennedy's cabinet. and it referred to the strong belief of our youngest President that bringing the best informed leaders from academia and industry would lead to good policy.

Halberstam's title was meant ironically, as he felt these "whiz kids" relied on great theory rather than practical application, and that those choices led us to the war in Vietnam.

I use the term genuinely, and with genuine thanks to those I try to have around me, and to trust their choices.

More about the shoot in the next post. 

Double - Part 2 - The Tao of Exposed Film

"There is no greater misfortune

than not knowing what is enough

There is no greater flaw

than wanting more and more"

-Tao Te Ching

There are many contexts in which the ineffable question 'how much is enough' can lead to deeply philosophical answers, filled will moral implications.

To the line producer, how much 35MM film stock is exposed on a given day can answer many questions about how the shoot is going.  None of them bring spiritual or emotional closure.

If very little stock is being exposed, that tells you that not much time has been spent actually shooting, and that is not a good thing.

If too much stock has been exposed, in proportion to how much of the script has been covered, then you will likely go over budget.

On Double, we experienced both.

As explained in Part 1, the nature of the film, about twins, led to a number of difficult shots, dealing with reflections. Set-ups took a very long time.

A number of people are involved in how long it takes to set up a shot. First and foremost is the director, as they must clearly convey their idea for the shot, and have an idea of how it will fit in the final cut. The DP needs to make it clear to the grip department how to lay out track, if needed, the camera crew to get the right lens set, and the gaffer to get the scene lit as efficiently as possible.

Then, of course, we have the 1st AD. The AD can give the DP, et al, help by keeping them in the loop as the order of shots change, taking set-up times into consideration when scheduling the work, and answering questions about things such as what we see in shot ("Does that truck have to be moved?"" Can I put a grip stand here?" "Is this a good place to stage equipment?") Once all this is done; once the wheels are properly set in motion, the AD has less control over the time for set-up.

A good AD knows when it's time to get a camera rehearsal going; crew will tend to continue to tweak until someone tells then otherwise. While some DPs take set-up times very personally, rushing their crew, a vigilant AD knows when it's time to ask the DP if we can at least look at the set-up.

All of this is done with some degree of balance. Contrary to one of the many misconceptions about the role of the AD, drill sergeant is not one of them. While everyone needs to be kept on their toes, and aware of where the day is going in terms of schedule, and what is required of them, there is little positive effect to
threatening and badgering people to move faster. There are times when everyone is doing their job as quickly and as efficiently as they can - and it's just taking longer than anyone would like. Those can be the most frustrating times for an AD, and, ironically, can be the easiest time for an AD. A good AD knows when they have done everything in their power to move things along, and now they just have to wait.

AD's don't create the shots, and our AD on Double, Karen, certainly didn't choose the difficult set-ups. It was clear, right from Day 1, that the blame for the long set-ups was going to fall on her, regardless of how hard she worked.

As line producer, I was in the difficult position of trying to make sure Karen was doing her job, while also pushing Leslie, the director, on time. Every time I pushed Leslie, she would push harder on Karen. I tried, as diplomatically as I could, to explain to Leslie that in many cases, it was the set-ups, and not Karen, that were responsible for the time lost.

Admitting that would mean that Leslie was to "blame," if blame is the right word. She is the director, and she has the right to shoot the look she wants, but then she needed to be realistic about how much we could accomplish in a day.  As both director and the source of funding, Leslie was feeling that typical push-pull in two different directions, toward keeping us from spending more money and getting the shots she wanted.

As if all of this wasn't enough, the personal chemistry between Karen and Leslie was about as bad as it could be to start with, and only got worse. Sometimes we know why we have a bad response to another human; sometimes we don't. Does that person remind us of someone else we have clashed with in the past? Are there unresolved issues from childhood at play?

There is no degree in psychology on my wall.  Discovering the origin of the bad chemistry here was above my pay grade, but, with simple observation and years as an AD myself, I could find nothing Karen did, originally, that set this off.  My best guess was that this was one of those instances where two strong, assertive women could not get along. I have seen this dynamic in political work that I did in the past.

I could explore the sociological implications, the way a paternalistic society puts undue pressure on women showing the same assertiveness that is valued in men. Then, again, you don't come here for my dime-store sociological analysis, so I will just leave it at this: they never got along.

Once Leslie started to blame Karen, an entirely new dynamic took shape, in the form of a self-fulfilling prophecy. Karen, understandably, resented blame that was not due to her, and she began to show that resentment ever-more-openly to Leslie, entering into a game an AD can never win.

Once an AD goes down this road, regardless of how understandable it is, the turn-off ahead can only lead to one place - a new AD. The Chain of Pain strikes again. I brought in a new AD.

Those who have followed this blog know what happens next. Leslie loves the new AD - they always do.

This should mean that we moved faster, and because the communication had become so bad with Karen, the  new AD "(I forget his name - let's call him Tim) was bound to be better. Still, there were days where we exposed very little film.

Then, one fateful day, the opposite happened. As I left set to attend to other matters, I reminded Leslie that we needed to keep moving, to keep shooting.

When I returned, I stopped in at the camera holding area. This is where the 2nd AD would load back-up mags, and also where the exposed was taped and labeled before being sent at the end of the day to the lab.

I was met with a mountain of exposed film. If my 2nd AC had been any shorter, I would not have been able to see him behind the wall of exposed. My first thought, my deepest hope, was that this meant we had covered a lot more of the script than I had expected, but a quick moment with the script supervisor told me that was not true.

Scipty followed me back to the camera holding area, where I began to match up the amount of the script covered with the exposed. As my eyes widened,  the 2nd AC looked at me, then the exposed, then me again, and said, "Hey, it's not my fault." He had been on enough sets to know what I was thinking.

Unlike the picture at the top of this post, there was no lovely lady sitting atop the skyscraper of exposed film, only the knowledge that we were in trouble.

We had exposed almost 10,000 feet of 35MM film - that is not a typo, 10,000 feet - to cover one page of the script. One page. One.  In describing this moment later to Henry, Leslie's producer, in a moment of the dark humor to which I am prone, I said that at this rate, Kodak would have to open up a new facility to keep us in 35MM stock.

You have to understand the implications of something like this. First, it means that the shooting ratio is so high that we will go way beyond the amount of raw stock (un-exposed film) we had planned, what this very good article describes as the "budgeted stock."

The problem with "budgeted stock" is that it is only a guide. If the director has no concept of the ramifications, it is hard to undo. It's not like when we hit the final number, we can just stop shooting, stop buying raw stock. I can't walk in, like a punitive parent, and tell the director, "You have used up all of the budgeted stock. We will not buy more. You cannot play anymore. Bad, director. Bad. Go to your room - the movie is over!"

That is, as my grandmother used to say in Sicilian, like "biting your nose to spite your face."*  You need to finish the film.

This now means that beyond the obvious added expense of more raw stock, there will also be more exposed processed, more developed, inevitably, more printed, more transferred. You get the idea. It's not a good thing.

To truly appreciate the irony that is the line producer's life, when I discussed it with Leslie at the end of the day, she had a decidedly different take.

"JB, look at all the work we are getting done now, with Karen (the previous AD) gone. We didn't waste any time this morning. We were rolling all morning. I've never seen the crew this efficient, and everyone seemed really happy."

Again, I have to point out that Leslie really was (and is) a good director. This was her movie, and she liked getting all of this coverage, and that was it.

In Part 3, I will tell of another interesting day, and the eventual end of Double.

Below, what I would have preferred to see.

*The American idiom is "cutting off your nose to bite your face" - I liked the physically-impossible image Rose Polito's translation of the phrase suggested.