The Indonesian Job - The Inspirational Email

"Director: [in Japanese] Mr. Bob-san, you are relaxing in your study. On the table is a bottle of Suntory whiskey. Got it? Look slowly, with feeling, at the camera, and say it gently - say it as if you were speaking to an old friend. Just like Bogie in Casablanca, "Here's looking at you, kid" - Suntory time.

Translator: Umm. He want you to turn, looking at camera. OK?

Bob: That's all he said?"

     - Lost in Translation

When I was working on an odd film in Miami, I wrote a series of emails for a friend back home. That became my first blog.

I am now line producing the US portion of a film that was shot in Indonesia. Both sides are dealing with translation and visa issues.

In order to keep my key creative and production folks in the loop, I wrote an email that was both brutally honest but also meant to say that while it is not the way any of us want to do it, we can make it work. As a matter of fact, because these people are so talented, they are in an even better position to make it work.

Over the years, I find that rumor can be much worse than even the scariest truth. It is why I am trying to keep the people who need to know not only in the loop, but provided with all the facts. If any were to say they did not want to do this (which I do not expect), I would understand and respect their decision. Staying, they can do so with all of the facts in front of them.

I will try to do more real time posts like this as we move forward. As much of the information is proprietary, I have gone to using the same method of protecting information as when sensitive documents are released - but without the black marks. Readers of this blog well know that since the folks who work with me deserve their privacy, I rarely use real names unless it is to praise, so I have not here, though they all deserve praise.

THE EMAIL

Welcome to the world of international co-productions.

First, the great news. We are on with a slight adjustment. The office will open next Wednesday, September 9th, at [REDACTED}. Will give you all more specifics on that and schedule soon.

As you probably know, my company, [REDACTED}, will be the production services company for [REDACTED} which is the Indonesian company. That means all funds will be sent to my company, and all deal memos and payments will be through me. I have secured this, and a cash flow that has all funds secured weeks before production, so as to assure that I control getting you all paid and on time, and neither you nor I have to chase a company from overseas for payment. Pay will be as I usually do it - at the end of each week with no wait. All contracts will be independent contractor with you being responsible for your own taxes.

I will have deal memos available by next Wednesday, and will be bringing each of you in to sign them, either that day or the day after. You are all people who are important to me and to this project.

Because of the visa situation the dates have changed.

The new shoot dates are 

Day 1 - September 30

Day 2 - October 1

Day 3 - October 2

Day 4 - October 4

Day Off - October 5

Day 5- October 6

Day 6 - October 7

Day 7 - October 8

Day 8 - October 9

Day 9 - October 10

Day10 - October 11

Day Off - October 12

Day 11 - October 13

Day 12 - October 14

Needless to say, this means the schedule and strips will change. We need to take into consideration things like turnaround, when certain locations are available, etc. The shoot cannot go past October 14th because the star, Raisa, needs to leave the next day.

Again, because of the Visa situation, the key creatives (Director, DP, etc) may arrive AS LATE as September 27th.

That is not a typo.

I have explained to the US-based Indonesian producer as well as the producer and director in Jakarta what this means. 

It means that they will have to sign off on everything - from locations to wardrobe right down to props - by photo, skype, etc. We can't be scouting locations 2 days before a shoot (though we will do a tech scout and production meeting).

I will be meeting the US-based Indonesian producer in DC on Tuesday for a long meeting to discuss logistics. Jakarta is 11 hours ahead of us, and we will be doing a lot of Skype meetings at some odd hours. Some will be from production office, but, depending on the hour, will certainly be good with some including my keys from wherever they are (like the comfort of their home). Likewise, there will be meetings during our business hours that will be inconvenient for them.

This is clearly not the textbook way to do a movie, especially when you consider that beyond that the Indonesian producer speaks conversational English, the director enough to get by, and the others not much at all.

I assume none of you speaks Indonesian.

We will be scheduling skype meetings individually with your counterparts there; [REDACTED}, with the DP; [REDACTED}, with their AD [REDACTED} and the director [REDACTED}; [REDACTED} and [REDACTED} with their production designer and costume designer, respectively, as well as their director. 

[REDACTED} will be part of all of those meetings. She is fluent in both language and has a production background in the US. She understands how we work, so she will not only be translating, but helping both sides with  understanding how the other works, as she has worked there as well.

Additionally, a recent negative exchange rate of their currency vs the US dollar has forced a cap on their budget, while their entire point in coming to NY was to show iconic (and, unintentionally, expensive) landmarks like Grand Central, an Amusement park (currently Luna Park), Times Sqaure, JFK, etc.

This means that budgets will be tight in all departments.

I have to do a new budget. It will force them to make hard choices, and likely cuts to things the director wants to do, some likely painful for them. Similarly, I have explained to them that while you are all wonderful, you are not magicians nor do you have the ability to turn water into wine or feed 5000 people (or extras, who are similar to people) with five loaves and two fish. Neither do I. 

On Wednesday, when we meet, I will have a set budget. With all of you, that will include flexibility with how many and what type of support crew you need and working out salaries for the people who are important to you.

The budget is similar to an Ultra Low[REDACTED}.

I will need your feedback in helping me convince them of what we can do and what we can't do, as well as creative solutions to problems.

The above email is as upfront as I can possibly be about the project. I truly believe we can make it work, and those of you who have seen the trailer know they can produce a professional product. The director has won awards in Indonesia, as have some of the actors. The director has done 15 movies, so he is not a novice, nor are the DP or design people. We have all been on directors' first features, so we can be thankful that we are working with people who understand the art and the craft.

I think together, we can help finish a film that we can all be proud of. I don't doubt we will have a few stories along the way.

IMPORTANT - In replying to this, PLEASE reply only to me. I don't want a long chain of woe. I will gladly address your concerns (and I can imagine some of them and await others).

I hope this addresses the big picture questions, and am available to answer your questions individually. You are my IMF . At the beginning of the old show, Phelps picked the people he most trusted. 

You all would get picked every time. And, remember, they ALWAYS got it done :)*

*However, the Secretary will disavow any knowledge of your action in the event.......

The South Beach Job - Part 3 - Mañana Time

"Old Men in tank tops
Crusin' the Gift Shops,
Checkin' out chiquita's down by the shore"
Jimmy Buffet, Marguaritaville*

Some places are not built for hard work.

Bud was a good friend of mine for many years. He was a published poet, had a PHD and two Masters, and taught for a while at Columbia University. After a short time in Key West, he quit his job at Columbia and took a job teaching writing at a small woman's college in Florida. When I called a bar that I knew he frequented down there, the Green Parrot, they said "oh, it's only 3PM - he doesn't hit here until around 5PM." They then gave me the number of another bar where he could be found at that time.

I suppose you can't find happiness if you don't know what your happiness looks like. Bud knew exactly what his happiness looked like.

Places with palm trees, scantily clad hard-body men and women, more bars and nightclubs than book stores and the word "beach" in their name tend not to be good places for hard work, especially the hard work and long hours of making a movie.

Welcome to South Beach.

After settling in to our offices at the hotel, it was time to staff up. It started with the office staff.

Recently, I spoke about how important the office staff is to me, and how great they were on my last feature.

Whether it is hiring staff or searching the aisles for clothes, I'm not much of a shopper. As most of my co-workers will tell you, in the latter department, it's mostly black or black light, gray.

In terms of staff, I trust my instincts as well as a feel for the little things, the things folks tell me is important to them, the little things between the line. For the most part, my instincts are good.

The same name came up three times for production coordinator, and when I met her, she certainly knew her stuff, knew the locals, and had an assistant (APOC) she was able to bring on. Sounded good,

For this series, I am going to refer to most of the crew by positions, for reasons that regular readers can imagine.

It took me a little longer to find the location manager, a very nice young lady for whom this would be her first time as location manager.

She was definitely smart, and I chalked up the slow start to bad luck, as she certainly was working hard.

It was on Day 1 of prep that I started doubting the production office staff. For the office, meals are usually working meals, meaning production pays for it, and you are still doing some work while you eat. Now, for those who have read my posts over time and have come to think of me as a nice person, here is where you get to put me into the "producer jerk" category.

I have posted here more than once of an unusual quirk of mine; because I like to eat my meals in peace, and there is little of that while on a shoot, I almost never have lunch while working a shoot. I quickly encourage those working around me in the office, who are not restricted by a call time for lunch, to just eat when they get hungry and not go by me.

POC asked if they could have lunch, and I gave her that usual line. At that point, she, the APOC and the office PA got up and headed for the door.

"Where are you going?" I asked. With a confused look, they proclaimed lunch.

Now, on my last shoot, my great office staff got into the habit of taking a work break and eating together. Understand, this staff worked incredibly long hours, often coming before I asked them to get in and staying later. If this time sitting taking a break together made their life better, cool.

My South Beach staff, though, were clock-watchers, and now, were going to leave the office for an hour lunch. I pointed out that we normally ordered in, and that we never took a full hour.

The reaction suggested that I was even meaner than my caricature on the last shoot. After a brief discussion of cultural differences in how we did business, I pointed out that at least one of them needed to stay behind - a film production office doesn't close.

"Well, you're here if anyone calls," the POC said. I pointed out that with three staff people, I should not be expected to answer phone calls or do their jobs for them, and laid down the law that at least one of them would remain behind.

The next issue was a hurricane.

South Beach, as many may know, is separated from Miami proper by a bridge, and we had hurricane warnings. Understand that we had a very shortened prep period, and the staff at that point was not getting through our normal work at any break-neck pace.

Our office was in a hotel, and I told the staff that with a hurricane approaching, if any wanted to stay the next night so there was no danger traveling, production would, of course, take care of that, as well as dinner and any other costs. After all, the office needed to be open, and we had work to do.

Besides, Miami is more accustomed to hurricanes than we are here in New York, and the hotel had a back-up generator and was probably among the safest places to be.

Again, they were aghast. They would go home, they informed me, and if the hurricane hit, come back in a day or two when it had passed and all was well.

"We don't close a production office," I informed them. With recent discussions on safety, I have to make clear that I never did, or would, suggest they drive in such conditions, nor would I have sent crew out. None of them were married, so I was not taking them away from their loved ones.

They all seemed to think it was not a big deal if they closed the office for two days - maybe we could just push the movie back a few days.

Without discussing tone, this may all seem reasonable to many reading this, but the cost of pushing back - not to mention the trouble rescheduling performers who were coming in from out of town - made this problematic. As said earlier, this was a staff that was already seriously behind where we should have been, and it seemed not to bother them one bit.

In the end, because I could not, of course, force them to stay there, we compromised on one day, and they did make it back the next day. This concession did not come without me explaining I expected them to actually put in the time to catch up afterward, and, no, they would not be paid for the day off.

Meanwhile, locations was moving slowly, and my location manager - a very nice person - had the disturbing habit of crying whenever things went wrong. I have seen folks cry under pressure - male and female - on sets. It can happen. Location manager, however, was not under this sort of pressure, and her crying at the drop of a hat had caused me to speak to her in increasingly calming tones, bordering on how one might speak to a frightened child.

It is not how I normally talk to people, and it was frustrating for both of us, but I had no idea what else to do. As we got closer, and she did this one day, I calmly told assured her that we would work everything out, but could she please try not to cry on a regular basis (it should be noted she did not only cry when talking to me, but sometimes when she would get off the phone, or come into the office crying).

That is when she hit me with a line I will forever remember.

"I don't just cry, JB. I cry to get things done."

I could not imagine any career that did not take place in front of a camera on a soap-opera where crying-on-cue- would be considered part of one's skill set, and I was not about to ask her to explain herself. Over time, suggestions came that it made people feel sorry and help her, but I'm not sure it was that cut-and-dried.

The slow pace of prep was getting to me, and I shared that one day with our production designer. Production designer was originally from Brooklyn, and still worked in both cities. By contrast to many of the locals, she was an incredibly resourceful hard worker.

She laughed when I expressed my dismay.

Production designer was of Puerto Rican heritage, and was very much in tune with the vibrant beat of a city that derives much of its cultural richness from a mix of Latin American and Caribbean influences, on everything from cuisine to nightlife to architecture. Indeed, Time Magazine once referred to Miami as "The Capital of Latin America."

All of that can bring with it the slower pace that tropical climates bring out; in part, a concession to the heat, in part, a response to the sun and the beauty that surrounds one.

"JB, it took me some time to get used to it as well," she shared. "Everyone down here is on manana time."

I pointed out that she, and her crew, did not share that slow pace, and she still moved at a New York pace, but had spent enough time in South Beach to appreciate it.

"Stay down here long enough and you will find yourself moving at that pace as well," she offered. I wondered if she was right, as the slow pace crossed the diverse ethnic make-up of my staff and crew.

Wise, she was offering the same advice that Walsh offers Gittes when he admonishes him. In my mind, I heard:

"Forget it, J.B. It's South Beach."



*These evidently are lost lyrics that were cut from original single to make it more radio friendly.

Hurricane Karma

I was working on Opposites Oppose (for those who missed Part 1) but thought it important to post this timely blog on the devastation that is Hurricane Sandy, as it affects me and my fellow New Yorkers.

I live in an Evacuation Zone A, which means I should have gotten the Hell out when they said to do so on Sunday. Like many others, I thought, sure, it will be a little rough, but I'll gut it out.

My only personal experience of living through a hurricane in the eye of a storm was in Miami in 1999. I can't say what hurricane it was, but know it was a doozy.

I was staying in South Beach shooting an insane movie with Luther Campbell of 2 Live Crew. the details will come later.

On the night of the Hurricane, my hotel in South Beach lost cable - yeah, not the worst thing in the world, but my NY Mets were in the playoffs, and fellow Mets' fans will tell you that it hasn't happened often enough for us to miss. Myself and two other NYers on staff convinced a cab driver who was as crazy as we were to drive us across the bridge into Miami to watch the game at a pub.

We had to hold onto each other to get to the cab, then do the same at the bar. We found an equally common-sense-challenged driver to take us home. The worst of it was going - as the wind pushed us around as we crossed the bridge, and the rain was so hard we couldn't see out the windows. All that saved us is that no one else was stupid enough to be coming the other way.

Earlier that day, the office staff had asked to go home to the other side of the bridge for a day or so during the storm. The line producer, and not the human being, kicked in, and I told them we had so much to do before shooting began later that week that I really needed them to stay.

When the production coordinator pointed out that it was unsafe, I told them I would make arrangements to put them up at the hotel. the APOC (Assistant Production Office Coordinator) said, "JB, we would rather be at home, with our partners and family (I'm paraphrasing)."

"Dorothy wanted to go home, too," I said, "but she took care of what she had to do first."

I thought it very clever at the time; the office staff was less impressed with my wit. After realizing that we were going to not get much done as we were discussing this rather than working, I let them go home early, with all the "kindness" of Scrooge.

CUT TO: Me in my apartment this past Monday night. I had bought all the provisions I would need in case I could not get out a few days, and was prepared. Power was shut earlier in the afternoon, but I was ready with battery-operated lights and more than enough food and wine.

I took it lightly until the wind and the storm surge came. The building literally shook, at first from the wind, I thought, but that was not the case. I looked out the window and saw what literally (yes, it's Joe Biden time) looked like a river rushing down my street. The tree in front of my house split and fell into the middle of the street, thankfully not into my apartment.

Over the next few hours, I watched as the water got higher and higher, rising to at least five feet and just about reaching the first floor landing.

I was seriously rethinking my decision to stay, but at this point, even if I got through to 911, they weren't going to send that needed boat to rescue the idiot who failed to heed the warnings. I was reminded of this wonderful episode of West Wing, and the master actor, Karl Malden.

http://youtu.be/-RzF-Wg2g-k

(Youtube does not allow embedding of this clip - if you cannot see it from the link above, just go to Youtube and search "West Wing Karl Malden". If you haven't seen it, it's both a great message and a great performance.)

I had heard all the reports, and prepared a go-bag in case the worst happened. Still not too sharp, my biggest concerns were a) I can't swim, b) I'm afraid of heights, if they were to do a helicopter rescue (yeah, THAT was gonna happen) and c) how do I keep my laptop from getting wet if I am saved. It has all of my budgets and work on it (though some is backed up to cloud).

My concerns were not necessarily in that order.

As I am writing this, I made it through. I was amazed at how calm everything was in the morning; just a slight breeze and clearing skies. Could this really be that much different than just twelve hours earlier? I looked out my window, and the water had completely receded. I had made it through, but would be lying if I said I wasn't scared.

My power has been out all week, and getting around is insane. Still, I have nothing but thanks, as so many others have lost so much in this storm. I broke my heart to see all or people's lives on the sidewalk as I walked to the nearest bus on Wednesday. Although there were things of greater value out, it was the toys that made me the saddest.

Sad children have always been the thing that literally brings me to tears. Maybe as an adult, I figure we get what we deserve, for better or worse. How do you tell a kid he can't play with his beloved toys anymore? After all, the kid must think, I've done nothing wrong. Why am I being punished?

If that seems trivial, it's still what my thoughts were.

During the worst of the storm that night, I thought about my thoughtless response to my office staff so many years ago. Maybe this wasn't Hurricane Sandy, but Hurricane Karma.

As a practicing Zen Buddhist for many years, I don't see karma as some sort of tit-for-tat, some scorecard where good and bad deeds are tallied, and something is sent out to you for each.

It stems from the Buddhist belief that makes the most sense to me, that I think of with every breath as I mediate, as I follow that breath in and out.

Separation is an illusion.

There is no "us" and "them," no "me" and "thee." That breath I take in is part of all of existence, and when I let that breath go, I share it. We are a part of everything, and everything is a part of us. With that being the case, how could our actions not affect us? We are contributing - or taking - from the same well.

Hey, I'm no monk. I can only express it as I see it. Every time I talk about my relation to Zen, I feel there is Buddhist scholar somewhere cringing because I got it wrong. Sorry, but that's all I got.

Next time, I'm sure my answer to the office staff would be different. Without a doubt, the image of that rushing water outside my building will come rushing back. Age takes away many things, but it should at least leave us with perspective.

I thought it more important to get this message out, so deep are my feelings for all those affected right now. I write this from the apartment of a dear friend and excellent camera woman, who has generously offered her place while she is away. Her flatmate kindly had sheets and even DVDs to watch as I arrived, this woman who does not even know me extending what comfort she could.

I know back by my apartment, and throughout the city and beyond, many others are not as fortunate. If this reaches one single-minded person somewhere, who thinks that whatever their occupation may be is more important than people's lives, and makes them think again, then I am happy that I wrote it.

As my email signature says, from dharma combat*, May Your Life Go well.



*For the sake of simplicity, I have chosen to link the Wiki explanation of Dharma Combat. Another example is linked here. I took part in this at my Zendo more than once, and it's a truly charged experience. Basically, it's an exchange between student and master, between masters, or, as my Zendo practiced it, also between students. At the end, we use the phrase "May your life go well." I always loved that as a way of ending any communication - so simple and yet says so much.