Starting this afternoon the creative team is writing and shooting our Rain City entry.
I’m going along to all the principal photography sites to fix last-minute plot and dialogue problems. Right now I’m sitting down to do some warm-up writing and get kitted up.
You won’t hear from me until after the awards show. I think we’re filming until past midnight both days. <yakov>In 21st Century, Entertainment Industry destroy you!</yakov>
My kit:
- Jeans.
- T-shirt, black.
- Blue toque (I wore the rainbow one I got from Ecuador last night).
- Those giant cheapgood Sony headphones everyone has.
- iPod Touch containing movie soundtrack.
- MacBook <- Basically counts as a mobile digital video and audio editing platform, but will only be used to edit text.
- Large-format cardboard-covered 120-page Moleskine notebook containing copious film notes.
- Black laptop bag to contain all the stuff.
Plus fleece, army jacket, skate shoes, gum, shades, the ring; my magic ring; my birthday present, etc. I look like a slacker boyscout Unibomber. Fuck SWPL.
There is no spoon. I’m not filming with them; they’re filming with me. This is Sparta!
Okay, go!
Day 1 Postmortem:
The corn chips and dental floss were a waste of packspace. I didn’t have time to eat. Tomorrow I’m replacing them with paint pens.
WiFi isn’t battle-ready, and shouldn’t be relied on. You either have a local copy or the file doesn’t exist (cf. the American Military saying, “two is one, one is none”).
The reason large projects get behind seems to stem from a lack of fudge. If I tell you something’ll be “done in five” and it takes six minutes that’s close enough for jazz. If 24 people are about a minute behind and they have cross-cutting dependencies… There’s a reason jazz ensembles aren’t orchestra-sized.
I sat in on the rehearsals of our first stunt: Chasing a couple of motorcycles in a beamer, staged from down the end of Dr. Z’s street. I made a gentleman’s wager that we’d get through filming without catching fuzz. “In my experience,” I gloated, “You can push The System pretty far before it pushes back.”
Not so, gentle reader. The cops were on us like sex on latex, all the way from 21 Jump Street. Make no mistake: The Eager Eye is watching you.
East Vandals — From Clark to Main we rock the pain. Amirite?
Day 2 Postmortem:
Early morning story meeting with Deep followed by banging out the whole script in one sitting at his place.
Worked the boom, helped with a little direction.
We were shooting our last scene at 3:00 when the clubs emptied into our set. Four DJs and their combined entourage turned our little penthouse to chaos.
Wrapped at 4:30 and didn’t want to waste the taxi money from Downtown to R-town, so after-partied w/ DJs et. al. until 6:00.
Submission is at 16:00. Today I’m doing as little as possible.
(Personal notes, actual post possible.)
Day 3 postmortem:
Emergency rewrites for voice-over narration!
I fired them off and asked for notes. No word. I suppose that means “good work!”
I was wrong about the submission deadline, it’s tomorrow.
Next time: better shoes, more socks.