Virgin Film Experiences Part II: "Filmmaking is like war."

Hello all. After a week-long hiatus (barely a month on the job and I'm already taking a vacation)- I'm back and ready for Part II of looking back in the sack on my virgin film experiences...

My second semester in film school, and fresh off the aforementioned critical tongue lashing I received the previous semester- I was ready (somewhat) to make my next film. During this particular semester, my classmates and I had an instructor we aptly named "The General"- christened so because on the first day of class she claimed there was only one very important thing we needed to remember as we embarked on our second attempt at becoming filmmakers. "Filmmaking is like war," she said. You will have to fight for your film every step of the way. You will bleed your credit card dry and find yourself opening new ones (before the credit bureaus get wise to all the debt you are already in) just to finish what you started. There will be many casualties and you cannot possibly foresee all of the things that will go wrong. And sleep? Don't even think about it.

Say what?! No way. What sane person would make films if the process was even remotely like The General described it?

She then launched into diagram after diagram of the hierarchy of troops that would follow us faithfully into battle- complete with a supplemental diagram that laid out the perfect craft services regiment for your "troops"- down to what time of day to replace the beef jerky with some M&M's for that much needed sugar boost. Only a filmmaker could micromanage her students with such fervor and precision.

In the hall, after class, we laughed at her. Maybe her film sets were like being at war. But ours wouldn't be.

Is filmmaking like war? I suppose that depends on the filmmaker. But I can say for sure that filmmaking (especially low to no budget filmmaking) is riddled with obstacles. And the need to sleep is only one of many. That said, I think the most important thing that I took away from the experience of shooting my second film, was that if you don't surround yourself with the proper support system ("crew" or "troops" depending on your preferred terminology) those obstacles can go from challenging to a living hell very quickly.

By that I mean- delegation is key. Surround yourself with eager, imaginative, supportive people that you can depend on and those obstacles will seem more like something you can handle together and less like the reason you secretly fantasize about hitching a ride to Canada with the hope that your film will never find you. And use them. If you have ever nearly missed a rehearsal because you were too busy trying to get a hold your location contact to know what time it is, stayed up all night making fake blood the night before your shoot, or burned yourself in the morning making coffee to shlep with you to set- you need to realize that you have taken on too much and it is time to delegate.

Case study:

During day 3 on the set of my second film, we ran out of tape. Why I had the tapes in my possession rather than handing them over to my DP before the shoot was only the beginning of my problems. We were out in the middle of nowhere on a forest preserve with no hope of running out quickly to get fresh tape stock. Fortunately, we had enough to get us to lunch time, but in order to continue shooting, someone would have to drive back to my apartment during lunch to get the rest of the tape stock. It was strongly advised by my AD and my DP to send someone from the crew, but I felt so guilty about having forgotten the tapes that I refused to rob someone else of their lunch break and went myself.

Bad idea.

I got stuck in traffic on my way back and not only missed lunch, but was an additional hour late getting back to set. My DP and AD had to set up for the next series of shots without me and once that task was finished, the entire crew waited on me to return. In the end, rather than delay one person's lunch, I caused our entire day to go over- and the sequence that was set up without me never felt quite right in the edit room because my DP and I didn't get the chance to hash it out together on set.

A year later- I was the AD on a fellow filmmaker's shoot, and one day when she was adamant that she needed leave set to solve some oversight in her planning, I refused- and I promised her that the UPM and myself would gladly solve it for her. It was not her job to put out fires- it was her job make the creative decisions required to get the film made. And with all the shit that can go wrong on a film that can't afford to put the shoe in a shoestring budget, a few good fire fighters (or troops- or whatever it pleases you to call them) can save your life.

Have some virgin film experiences of your own? Feel free to share in the comments. And remember- when it comes to filmmaking- no matter how awkward and sweaty your first few times may be- if you keep at it, it can only get better.

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Virgin Film Experiences: Part One

Let's face it. Your first time is awkward, painful, and just plain wrong.

I've recently been treading in virgin territory. I am currently in the process of finishing one of my first films, Elevator- taking her out, dusting her off, and hopefully giving her the attention she deserves so that she will have a life outside of my imagination.

Throughout the early stages of this process, I find myself unearthing some of the memories and feelings surrounding my early filmmaking experiences- feelings that I had quickly shoved to the wayside as I hurried on to the next project. Memories that I prayed silently would turn into some kind of wisdom that would prevent me from making the same mistakes on my next film in favor of a whole new set of glorious mistakes.

Technically, my first turn as filmmaker was the 16mm short I shot in my introductory semester at film school- A Change of Heart. In it, the main character gives her heart (quite literally, bloody and all- wrapped up like a present) to her new boyfriend, hoping he will return her affection, but is devastated when he finds her gesture to be disgusting.

What it really was about was my own fear- my fear of exposing myself to ridicule as a filmmaker. Of digging deep. Of getting a little blood on the page.

And it showed. At the end of the semester critique I watched several of my friends and colleagues draw praise from our professors. I anxiously waited my turn- but when it came, the criticism was like an avalanche. Each of my amateurish mistakes rolling off my instructors' tongues and clobbering me on the back of the head before collecting in a pile at the foot of the stage where I sat facing my peers. I was blown wide open. I wasn't able to separate myself from the work and it hurt.

Still- my most vivid memory from the entire experience was not my first brush with film school failure, but of the long bus ride I took out to the west-side suburb of Maywood, Illinois. It was here that I had cut a deal with a butcher over the phone who promised to save me the two pig hearts (one for back-up of course) I needed as props for my film. As long as I came out to get them on the specified day, I could have them for free.

The best part of this was not the butcher shop, with its dingy tile and yellowed counter-tops- as I waited for the butcher to retrieve my "props" I tried very hard not to look at the half-disassembled animals behind the counter or the blood on the butcher's apron. Blood is so much more horrifying when its real.

The best part was the 45 minute bus ride home. My two props tucked neatly on ice in the only appropriate container I was able to find in my apartment- a cloth lunch bag- I couldn't help but smirk at the thought:

Everyone on this bus thinks I have a sandwich in here. If only they knew what I really have.

Stay tuned for Virgin Film Experiences Part Two: Adventures in Delegating 

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Well-Respected Filmmakers Make Me Nervous

Well- hello there. For my first blog (ever) I am pleased to say that tonight's subject involves a very special opportunity I had this weekend to attend the 20th Anniversary Screening of Spike Lee's Do the Right Thing- right here at the fabulous Fox Theater in Atlanta.

I came to be invited to this event due to a happy (for me) accident- my boss' annual summer vacation. Earlier this past week when I heard he would not be able to accept his invite to the VIP reception and the screening that followed, I naturally jumped at the chance to say- "So, you think I might be able to go in your place?"

A few days later, and armed with a Guillotine Post hat for my husband Kris to sport at the event- we were off to the Fox.

As a tween of the late 80's and early 90's I was very much aware of Spike Lee the public figure. But it was not until I reached my early 20s, and my serious interest in filmmaking began, that I sought out the films of Spike Lee.

Do the Right Thing was the first of his films that I watched from beginning to end. Sprawled across my couch on a lazy summer afternoon with a handful of friends, I became introduced to a story so rich with detail that beads of sweat formed on the back of my neck despite the well-cranked AC. The characters that populated this film became so familiar to me, that halfway through second act- I felt as though I had met them somewhere before. That I was part of the neighborhood. This was no small feat to a little white girl who had grown up in the suburbs of Marietta.

I was invested in people that populated this story. Even the ones that I wasn't meant to like. So much so that - when the film's climax erupted- I naively didn't see it coming. I could only sit rigidly with my hand to my mouth as the neighborhood that had been built before my eyes was destroyed. As characters behaved in a way that I couldn't have thought possible yet seemed so inevitable- as even Mother Sister screamed "Burn it down! Burn it down!"

But it didn't end there. The film continued to the next day. As if to say- "Hey, it's just another day in the neighborhood." Kids played ball in the rubble. People moved on.

Wow. This wasn't just making a movie. This was painting a whole world for people who had never experienced it as well as those who knew it as surely as their own address.

Upon arriving backstage at the Fox for the pre-reception, Kris and I enjoyed some of the film-themed appetizers- snow cones, pizza, as well as the early 90s tunes (which Kris noted took him back to his roller rink days). While in the midst of a friendly chat, I suddenly noticed a crowd forming so quickly behind me that I was nearly bumped off-stage. After stumbling awkwardly into a photographer to avoid being ejected into the orchestra pit- I noticed I was standing mere feet from Spike Lee! Not one to stand in the way of a gathering crowd of admirers and press- my husband and I slipped over to the bar and out of the way.

For the next twenty minutes, Kris tried to convince me to go up to Spike Lee and shake his hand. Perhaps strike up a conversation? The thought seemed ludicrous. The only thing I could come up with to say to Spike Lee was - "Gee- I really like your movies," or some such nonsense. I became painfully aware of my lacking the necessary bravado it seems just about every filmmaker is supposed to possess.

What did I have to say to Spike Lee anyway? He's made some 50 feature films, launched careers, and inspired a generation of underrepresented artistic voices. And I- had one of my films screen in the basement of a coffee house in Kansas City.

And they misspelled my name in every piece of press and online material. First name and last.

After another glass of wine, Kris was able to convince me to walk up to Spike Lee under the charade that he would ask Mr. Spike Lee if he would take a picture with his wife. Spike obliged and Kris snapped our photo. I managed to choke out a "Thank you" followed by a feeble "We really love your movie"- before scuttling as far to the other side of the stage as I could.

Yes- I would love to say that I overcame my fear and had an inspiring conversation with Spike Lee about the craft of filmmaking. But, folks- that's just not how it happened.

I did, however, get a picture of myself with Spike (looking slightly annoyed) for my husband and I to cherish for years to come. And I did get to see a fantastic movie in one of the last surviving movie palaces in the country. Top it off with a rousing Q and A with Spike, one of the producers, Radio Raheem, and Mookie's sister and I'd say it was pretty memorable evening. Scroll down and check out some of the pics for yourself.

Me and Spike Lee himself.

View of the pre-reception from the balcony.

Kris waits for the show to begin.

Spike Lee, one of the film's producers, Joie Lee, and Bill Nunn
shed some light on making Do the Right Thing and answer some
perplexing audience questions...

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