Setting up for an exterior shot

I ran into Cowboy Bob on the Metro, which I thought fortunate because I don’t know my way around the middle of Prague very well. It’s just not a place I’m tempted to go very often. There’s nothing there you can’t find in other neighborhoods for a lot less. Nothing, that is, except ancient architecture, narrow cobbled streets and all-around old-world atmosphere. For this part of the shoot, that’s what we were looking for.

Applying makup in the square

A minimal crew (only about eight of us) gathered at the statue of Jan Hus, and after some caffeine and makeup we were on our way. The goal was to get as many guys-walking-down-little-streets shots as possible before U Sudu was available at 10:00. Our time would be very limited at the bar, so it was important not to waste any of it. It’s not uncommon to see kids running around making little movies around town, but I think we stood out, what with our big ol’ camera, another guy to do focus, and so forth.

It was a fun morning for those of us who didn’t have to carry the camera, and I got quite a few pictues in the good light. (There’s another guy in charge of taking good pictures.) All in all, a pleasant morning. Then it was off to our favorite subterranean bar. (They’re our favorite because they let us shoot there for free.) The gaffers were already unloading gear when we arrived, and Tomaš and fuego put their heads together to plan the first shot, handheld following the action, arranged to show off some of the cool ironwork. Then the shooting progressed lower and lower into the bowels of the bar.

Measuring the distance from the lens to Cowboy Bob's nose

Down in the depths, the bar had not been cleaned from the night before. There was broken glass here and there, dishes in the sink, straws strewn, sticky spots on the floor. Lenka did most of the cleanup, with some support from me.

Low-tech visual effects: we didn’t have a smoke machine, but the grip and gaffers had cigars, and would puff up a storm before each shot.

At 1 p.m. fuego said, “We have four more hours. It’s not going to be enough.” I wasn’t surprised to hear it, having seen enough filmmaking in my limited career to know that there are wide shots and coverage shots (shots featuring a particular actor) with lenses of varying lengths, then there are shots to show the details (money hitting a counter, things like that), and so a fairly simple scene can several different camera setups. In general it’s the setup that takes time; lights have to be adjusted, focus figured out for each stage of the shot, and so forth.

Once again I was grateful to have so many experienced people on the crew. They had worked together before, knew what they were doing, and got us set up each time with a minimum of fuss. The time saved meant more setups, more shots, and better coverage. Not to mention that these guys were creating some visually dramatic stuff while they were at it.

Due to the fluid nature of our movement through the location and the limited space, I wasn’t able to watch a monitor as we shot, so I still haven’t gotten the full effect, but fuego assures me it’s good. For much of the day my role was alternately acting coach and furniture mover. I was also in charge of getting some munchies — and apple juice. There is whiskey in our story (Old Ray Black was a bourbon man), but whiskey is expensive and after a few takes the actors would be turning green, so we substituted apple juice. Steve (rhymes with Cowboy Bob) drank a lot of apple juice. By the end he was starting to feel a little queasy even with the benign juice.

Time keeps on Slippin’ into the Future, as Steve Miller pointed out, and the crew was working to get us all the shots we needed, but at the end, we were forced to compromise, and take it on faith that (for instance) the wide shot with Paul sitting down was a good as it looked to fuego, so no coverage shot of that was necessary. I wished later that I’d written down more notes about each shot, because in several of the wide takes there’s a bad chair noise when he sits. The last one was good, though, so I hope that’s the take fuego is relying on.

Setting up in the bowels of U Sudu

You have no idea how many things can go wrong in a take. There’s the obvious problem of the actor missing on the performance, but in fact what you are hoping is that the actor’s performance is good when all the other shit actually works. Were I in the position to hire actors, I would choose consistent actors over great ones.

Although, I just did hire actors, didn’t I? There’s one line delivered brilliantly in rehearsal that never popped as well in performance, but fuego was really pleased with the performance of the line on camera, on more than one take. He just didn’t have the rehearsal to compare it to. And maybe on camera there were subtleties I could not pick up.

There’s a moment of transformation, when Cowboy Bob leans back, knows his job is done, and gets up to leave. fuego proved his chops as a director right there, once the lenses and the lights and the angles were figured out he guided the actor through the timing of this gradual transformation. While rolling he said “now look across at Paul… smile a little… lean back…” Past all the technical details it was all about telling a good story. Budget, crew, schedule, time left to film in the location — all details. Story is the thing. That’s what the business is about, in the end, a story well told. fuego’s a storyteller.

Early in this game fuego said, “here’s how we take over the world,” and my little project became an effort to make something really spectacular. I hope we succeed. fuego’s put a lot of his personal credibility on this script, and on what we can make of it. I’ve improved as a performance coach this time, but I could have done better. The nitty gritty details, I want nothing to do with. I want to watch the monitor, watch the actors, help them be awesome. I want my story to come to life. In film that is an incredible team effort.

Miki and fuego

In the novel biz, we laugh at the people who are worried that someone will steal their idea. An idea is nothing; it’s all about execution. No one will steal your writing. Or at least if they do it’s easy to trace. The importance of execution applies in the movie biz as well but the execution is a massive collaboration in which the writing is important but there’s a lot more. The original script is little more than a template. Two crews with the same script will end up with different movies.

The day ended, and fuego canceled the evening exterior shots. I think the stress of getting what we needed down there, and the weight of being director, tired him out. We were loading our stuff out (a bit late), we were in a bar, and it was a chance for me to buy beers for everyone. A moment not to miss. (Though now that I think of it, fuego picked up a big part of the tab.)

So we enjoyed the evening when really we should have been shooting, relaxed, and hung out. I was all right with that, and as Executive Producer, it’s my call. Apparently.

2

Sweet!

Thanks!

I woke up early this morning, really early. I didn’t plan it that way, it just happened. Today was the first day of shooting “Moonlight Sonata”, and I have to admit that I was pretty excited. It’s been a long and winding road, as Paul McCartney used to say every once in a while.

My first job of the day was clearly defined: making copies. I was waiting outside Copy General when it opened at 8, and I think the people there were a little surprised to have someone there at the crack of opening on the Saturday of a holiday weekend. But there I was and without any grumbling they followed my instructions to the letter — except that the guy was so sure I had asked for three of something at some point he had a hard time accepting other numbers. Nevertheless he was friendly and helpful and I got what I needed. I tromped up to Zvonařka and the crews were already hard at it.

The first shot of the day was the most complicated, a long steadycam shot, and there was a hitch. The steadycam rig was an elaborate piece of equipment but it was home-grown and there were problems getting it to work with the Red. (More on the Red later.) We were delayed getting started, and our time using the main room of the restaurant was limited. Yikes.

There were some positive aspects, however. One of my regrets with “Pirates of the White Sand” was not spending enough time with some of the actors, coaching them and challenging them to bring more to their roles. Steadycam delays today meant idle actors, and these guys were all for running the lines, discussing deliveries and timing, and just being professional. Steve (rhymes with Cowboy Bob) had the most complicated lines today, and there were a couple I was worried about. He was a bit nervous himself, but then he would nail the line dead cold, adding nuances I hadn’t thought of before. Likewise Curt (rhymes with Paul the Piano Player) showed a range of expression within the boundaries of a fairly introverted guy.

The steadycam was finally ready and work commenced. Unfortunately the monitor wasn’t working, so I could not watch the feed. Also, I didn’t realize that the walkie-talkie I’d been given wasn’t a walkie-talkie at all, but a digital receiver for the audio. Later, when I learned that I could hear what was being recorded I was in a happy place.

But our time in the main room was limited, and we weren’t going to get the necessary shots and coverage in time, and the woman in charge of the place made it clear that it wasn’t her idea to let a bunch of film people in. In one case, when we identified the source of a nasty, persistent noise to be a mirror ball motor with no mirror ball on it, we asked if we could turn it off. “Impossible,” the woman said — a common Czech response when one doesn’t wish to be bothered. Happily, one of the gaffers found the magic switch. But I digress.

The woman in charge was getting increasingly uptight, as we were pushing in on the time she needed to prepare the place for paying customers. fuego pressed on, working with Tomaš, our director of photography, to get the shots we needed. I had spent the previous day twisting the arm of my former czech teacher to be the waitress, and I didn’t get to see her performance. Or hear it, because I still thought I had a walkie-talkie. How might I have affected her performance? I’m told she did well.

All around me people were doing stuff. Subtle stuff, like wrapping the compact fluorescent bulbs in the overhead fixtures with… I don’t know, some sort of softening stuff. Dolly tracks laid without a fuss, lenses swapped and data transferred, actors made non-shiny, water brought around to the crew.

Once we got off the steadycam the monitor was working correctly and with my headphones getting the audio I was able to stay out of the way and still get a really good feel for how things were going. I monitored the performances of the actors, listened for trouble, and every once in a while chimed in, either to call out “smoke!” to remind them to light the cigarette smoldering in the ashtray, or to slide over while the crew was doing technical stuff to talk to the actors. “Like the hair a lot,” I said once, and people seemed to think my opinion was important (perhaps because they all agreed – it was a no-brainer).

I should probably have been looking for visual problems as well, but to be honest the stuff hitting my monitor was just plain blowing me away. It was a combination of things: the Red, bringing film qualities to video (not just resolution, but the whole feel), lighting, sound, and actors who may not nail the line every time but when they do… damn. And you only need the one. At one point fuego and Tomaš were watching the footage and were obviously pleased with the stuff coming out of the Red. “And this is raw,” fuego said, “we haven’t done anything to it yet.” Some of the credit for that has to go to gaffer and focus puller, to the dolly grip and all the others. You can’t fix bad focus in post. Yet in the end the Red proved worthy of all the business that went on around it, giving us raw footage that looks (to my eye) really damn good.

I’m excited.

I’m also a little scared. All the skill and technology in the world can’t fix a bad story (though Hollywood is striving to prove me wrong). Does my story hold up? Is the screenplay fuego and I created worthy of all this amazing talent? I sure hope so.

There was one other job I had today as producer. Paying people. This little project isn’t so little anymore, and I’ve ridden along because the value is increasing much more steeply than the cost. For example our boom guy knows how to point a microphone, and while he’s working for a song, it’s not free. Nor should it be. Several people on this production think they are working for free, and I’d really like to surprise them. You can help. (To be honest, I’ll do my best by these folks no matter what you do.)

Which brings us to this button:

I suppose there should be defined donation levels, with commensurate rewards. That’s how high-class beggars work, right? I’m inventing this as I type, so it’s subject to brothers and lawyers smacking me around and making me change things (one might say ‘subject to change without notice’ or something like that). Let’s try this:

• less than $50: Hearty slap on the back. You can say “I believe in you guys”, and we will be honestly grateful for your vote of confidence.
• $50 – $150: Seriously cool people who want to make sure the little guys can still make movies. Your name in the credits!
• $151 – $500: Honest-to-God supporter of the arts. Your name in the credits, recognition in any Web presence this film ever has, and a foot massage. I’m pretty good at foot massages.
• $501 – $1500: My new best friend. You get a whole card in the credits, your name and/or logo (whatever you want) all alone right there for people to read. Plus, a foot massage. No, let’s make it TWO foot massages.
• $1501 – $5000: Where have you been all my life? Tell us what you want. We’ll probably say yes.
• $5,000,000: Guess I’m done. You’ll have to watch the movie to understand that one.

Support the arts (or, failing that, me). Someone’s got to do it.

I hate to end on such a mercenary note, but even while I was writing this episode I came to realize that I’m one of those people who wants to add to the human experience through art. In my case, it’s storytelling. I’ve always thought of myself as a commercial artist, a guy who’s going to make things people will buy, which are no less art for that. Moonlight Sonata will never sell. It’s just cool. There’s a closeup of Curt that makes me chuckle, and a line by Steve that gives me chills. I don’t care what you bastards think. I like it.

Tomorrow: smoke and doubt below the streets of Prague. Don’t miss it!

3

Sweet!

Thanks!

I am mentally composing an episode to tell you about how things are going, focussing on two participants you haven’t heard much about yet. Before I did that I thought I should give you a run-down of the major people we’ve suckered into our adventure. As I get permission I’ll provide links to facebook pages and whatnot. (update: Facebooks links are apparently useless to people who are not already friends with that person — as far as I can tell — so I will not be including as many links here as I’d hoped.)

Me — I may not be the most important person on this project but it’s my blog so I’m going first. Plus, I’m the one who started the ball rolling by putting a small amount of money where my mouth was. I am the writer of the original story and a co-aurhor of the screenplay, along with my brother fuego. You already know more about me than probably you want to, so we’ll leave it at that.

fuego — the director. My younger brother and veteran of many major film productions. In fuego’s hands this project quickly escalated far beyond my original expectations. It only made sense that he upped the ante; he’s not in the business to produce crap, and to be worth his time the result of our endeavor has to be something he can show at film festivals with pride. His first message on the subject was titled “Taking over the world.” Not only has he been critical for adapting the story for the screen, he has been able to bring in plenty of film professionals who are between gigs right now. (The entire Prague film business is between gigs.)

Martin — Assistant SomethingOrOther, or maybe Assistant Everything. I met Martin a long time ago because we both spend too much time at Little Café Near Home. Martin knows a lot of film students and has done a good job connecting us with the best of them. He was especially important early on, asking questions I didn’t know to ask and generally thinking things through. When fuego and I asked him for someone to help us negotiate locations, he brought us Lenka.

Lenka — we really need to figure out the right titles for these people. It is because of Lenka that negotiations for locations are going so smoothly, and much more cheaply than we dared hope. When she is given a task she doesn’t schedule it, she does it. After reading the script, she felt strongly that one of our locations wasn’t right, got on the phone and set up another place in half an hour. While we were there for a planning session, she gave me a quick report on how her money-raising efforts were going. I tried not to get too excited, but it had quite simply never occurred to me to go out and ask people for money in exchange for a mention in the credits. “One can maybe do the catering,” she said, “and then pay a little more.” (Note to self: find out what a “media partner” is.)

Soup Boy — Director of Photography and storyboard artist. I’m actually the only one who calls him that, but there you go. Soup Boy is a good guy as well as a talented dude with a camera. He’s got a lot of things going on, so I feel fortunate that he has some time to work with us on this thing. His name will start to show up more and more as we get closer to shooting.

Jakub — Editor. When Soup Boy turned down the “opportunity” to edit our little show, Martin recommended Jakub, his brother, who is apparently tired of editing documentaries for television and would enjoy working on something that’s narrative fiction. He hasn’t been involved much yet, except to answer a few questions here and there, but he’s a good egg and works five minutes’ walk from me, so I’ll be able to pester him to my heart’s content.

We also have a sound guy, Aleš, and sound post-production (important with all the music). One challenge for me: Don’t get all neurotic about the sound after the problems with Pirates. Also we’ve had the invaluable support of Jessica, fuego’s mother-in-law, for casting facilities.

With the team coming together, I’m getting more and more excited about this thing. We have a chance to make something very cool, and not everyone gets an opportunity like that. I’m in over my head, but there are enough people around to lend me some buoyancy. Only a week and a half until we shoot!

1

Sweet!

Thanks!

We arranged with family members to borrow a casting studio for today, then sent out word onto the grapevine that we were looking for people. It turns out that perhaps we assumed too much about the grapevine; it seems word didn’t get out as far as we would have liked. We’ve had three people come in so far, and none of the people we were particularly hoping to see. Also, it seems that there’s a commercial casting today. Commercials pay well, especially compared to self-financed short films with artsy airs.

So here I sit in Cine-Jessy, pondering life in general, staring at my navel on occasion, and wishing there was wireless internet here. Still, the three actors we’ve seen were all good in their own ways, all experienced, and there are others who have sent apologies who might also be good. We’ll get there.

* * *

Addendum: just as casting was closing and we were discussing whether to do it again another day, one of the people we were most interested in showed up. So, if we can work things out with him, then at least one of the hig questions is answered.

2

Sweet!

Thanks!