Floating: A Swim in the Woods: Drop Me in the Water

"Some are reputed sick and some are not. It often happens that the sicker man is nurse to the sounder"

-Henry David Thoreau

Ok, when we move on from this movie and the pond, I will move on from Thoreau and Emerson. Promise. 

As the title of the movie might imply, a lot of the time was spent in the water; specifically, Norman spent a lot of time in the water.  Both Norman and Chad's characters were talented high school swimmers, and besides spending time lounging by the pond, their characters also competed against each other swimming. It was part of how they bonded.

There must be something about male adolescence and water. From a young Al Green wanting someone to  Take Me to the River, to Neil Young shooting his baby Down By The River, to Springsteen remembering Mary's body tan and wet as they went down to The River and wondering if a dream's a lie if it don't come true, or if it's something worse, right up to The Decemberists filling their cup Down By The Water  (see, and you thought this old guy didn't know any modern music!)  there is something mystical about the creek, the river, the pond, the reservoir.

Maybe it goes back to the biblical  image of baptism and rebirth, or maybe it's just about young men with over-active hormones seeing what young women look like with wet bodies. Probably it's a little bit of both.

We kept putting Norman in the water, and it wasn't biblical or stimulating. Western Massachusetts in the Fall can be chilly, and the water was downright cold. Add to that a very physical shoot and working long hours, and near the end, it was really draining for Norman.

Because of turnaround (the time needed between wrapping one day and starting the next, for those not in film) a lot of the night shoots by the water were near the end of the shoot, when it was even colder. According to a doctor, Norman was very close to having what used to be referred to as "walking pneumonia." Whatever it was, he was sick.

This is an important point for young filmmakers: actors are not moving props. When you decide to work ceaselessly, it takes a toll on actors, especially if they are expected to be doing physically draining scenes. Norman was about as fit as anyone I have ever met, but it was still a lot to handle.

We set up a few tents, and heaters, and did the best we could to keep him dry and warm between takes, but the reality was that we needed a lot of footage of him in the water. Not only did he never complain, he refused to slow down, pushing himself pretty hard to make our days.

I tried to walk that fine line between fulfilling one of the first responsibilities of the Assistant Director - making the schedule - and fulfilling "the prime directive" - safety.

In the end, much as an athletic coach sometimes has to trust an athlete's ability to manage pain, it was clear to me that while Norman was pushing, he was also realistic about his limits, resting whenever he could while still getting in all the shots.

Of course it wasn't much fun for us to be out in that weather either, and a string of night shoots is never fun. Your body clock never really adjusts to working at night and sleeping during the day; the answer is more just about breaking your body clock so it stops complaining.

Believe me, none of us were going to complain with what Norman was working through, remembering that all the while, he had to play a tough, strong, athletic young man on screen. He kept us going.

For people who are fans of Norman now from Walking Dead, it is hard to describe what it's like to see an emerging artist just starting to be aware of their powers. Much like young writers, musicians, etc., the work may become better crafted and more mature as time goes on, but there is still something special about that early work, an energy that is hard to describe.

At the time, I was probably more concerned with just getting it all done, but I was still lucky to have been there for that, and I will always admire Norman for it.

..........................

For my part, this shoot was one of the few times that my own challenge became an advantage.

The character of Norman's father, played by Will Lyman, had lost a leg in the car accident that killed his wife. Bitter and feeling useless, he had spun deeper into depression and alcohol, acting very much the invalid, refusing to do much outside his wheelchair and spending a lot of time feeling sorry for himself.

Will did an incredible job of not making this a caricature, always letting his entire personality shine through. One challenge for him came in a scene where he tries to learn to walk with an artificial leg.

Whatever issues of frailty came up for Will's character I had long since gotten over with my own condition as a bi-lateral amputee below knee. The mechanics of putting on a prosthetic I knew very well, as it's something I do a number of times a day.

The prosthetic the prop folks got for Will was a very old one, one that was no longer being used even in the late 90s, no less the better ones we wear today.

The one they got him was one which used a strap, which is only used today in certain situations, replaced by a suction device that is actually more secure.

older leg

Newer leg with suction cup and lock

In any case, this was the leg we had, and almost no one knew exactly how it worked.

Some of the crew knew I used prostheses, some thought so but weren't sure, some did not. Because of the cosmetics, unless I roll up my pant legs, it isn't obvious.

I have never made an issue of hiding it, nor have I felt the need to announce it, but this was a time it came in handy.

On a break, I took Will into another room and showed him how mine worked, and how he would put his on. Mystery solved.

One of the humorous notes at this point was Bill, our director. I didn't ever tell Bill, and he didn't know. As we were not on particularly good terms, I didn't see us needing to bond over this point. Once the character had the prosthetic, Bill would constantly ask if it were possible, say, for him to walk up steps with it, or other simple tasks that any amputee learns early on in rehab.

Will, to his credit, would just smile, having seen me go up and down not only steps but hill and dale around our beloved pond. Some of my crew would chuckle. No one filled him in.

One of those moments when, as Thoreau mused, the sicker man was nurse to the sounder.


For my younger readers, another blast from the past.

Floating: A Swim in the Woods: Come, Feel the Noise

"Silence is the universal refuge, the sequel to all dull discourses and all foolish acts, a balm to our every chagrin, as welcome after satiety as after disappointment"
-Henry David Thoreau, Walden

We were shooting just miles from Walden Pond, on another pond, and the image above, and Thoreau's commentary on it, are what comes to people's mind when they think of that part of the woods.

Nature. Beauty. Listen closely, and what will you hear?

A distant bird's chirp? The crack of a branch as some small critter crosses it?  A breeze rippling along a pond? Maybe.

An airplane flying overhead? Dogs howling? Construction? Music blaring from a neighbors party? More likely on our shoot.

We were about 10 miles from Hanscom Air Force Base. Most residents owned at least one, if not more, dogs. It was Fall, and most of the local residents were doing repairs and additions to their homes before Winter took over, and also getting in their last chance to hold parties in their backyards.

Added together, we had about as much chance of getting a quiet take as one would in Times Square.

I particularly remember one touching scene between Van (Norman) and his father (Will). Their relationship was contentious, but this was that special moment when they really connected, when they felt each others' pain, when they put the past behind them and moved forward.

It's not a scene you want to do twenty times; there are only so many "special moments" in them. Sure, we could get coverage, but we wanted one. nice, beautiful master shot, which meant we would need quiet for at least 3 and a half minutes.

By that point, we had a rather complex system in place of PAs stationed by folks homes, where they would bring in their dogs during takes as well as hold on use of construction equipment while we shot. For the most part, they were very polite, friendly and accommodating.

The Air Force, needless to say, was not about to work around our shooting schedule, nor were they about to give us a timetable of flights.

We were about 45 seconds into a take when I heard a dog barking. Was it loud enough to ruin our take? Could we fix it in post? All of my senses were alive, my "spidey-senses" kicked in, as I watched the take and listened to this dog, wondering if this was a good one.

When the director called cut, I immediately sought out the sound mixer, who was not in my line of sight during the take, a take that was absolutely perfect and heart-wrenching.

"Was the dog a problem in that shot?" I anxiously inquired of our sound mixer.

"No, the dog wasn't a problem," he said in the calmest of voices. "The plane drowned him out."

We had been dealing with these sound issues all along, and our mixer had long ago come to accept that this was just the way it was going to be.  Meanwhile, I was so fixated on the dog barking that I had completely missed, well, the airplane. "Spidey-senses," indeed!

Yes, we had to shoot it again. It worked out great in the final scene (which I don't want to show here, as it will be lost when you see the movie - and you should see the movie).

What it does remind me of is this, from Living in Oblivion, the Tom DiCillo film that inspired the title for this blog. Somehow, on that one perfect take, something affects the shot....




Sound was not our only struggle, and in the next post, too much time in the water, and a scene too close too home.

Floating: A Swim in the Woods - A Preview

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

-Henry David Thoreau

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

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

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

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

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

A little background.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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