It’s a crazy week. It may even be the most chock-full of changes in my life... no doubt it’s in the running. We did a cast and crew screening of “Beast” yesterday. Tuesday (not really a change, but adding to the chaos) I’m hosting the Western Canadian Skeptical Smackdown. Thursday, Jodie and I move in together, and shortly thereafter I begin working from home on a permanent basis. As if that wasn’t enough – Vancouver itself is just over a month away from the Winter Olympic Games (which I’ll be writing about very soon) and our new home is crammed right down near ground zero of the games – about three blocks from GM Place.
By any measure it’s an exciting time and an opportunity to redefine aspects of my life. Indeed parts of it are redefining themselves whether I do anything more to help it along or not. I’m looking forward to having a gym handy, and to be able to cook in a spectacular kitchen on a regular basis. (It is so much easier to cook for two than one.)
On top of it all, I’m leaving things out. There are a handful of things – movie related things, not related directly to “Beast...” – that are on the boil. Indeed a few of them are HOT on the boil. I’ll definitely mention them here if/when I can. I just want to earmark this point in time – so that I can later connect back and say “See! See!!! That was a ridiculously transformative time in my life!”
Showing posts with label Beast of Bottomless Lake. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Beast of Bottomless Lake. Show all posts
Sunday, January 10, 2010
Monday, February 18, 2008
Defending the Music XVIII: Seems a Million Miles Away but it Gets a Little Closer Every Day
I had to miss the concert. It was the only reasonable course. I had tickets. It was the first stadium concert in twenty years. I had even did back-flips to arrange the best possible chance to be able to go... but when the time came I was too tired and had too far to go to complete my task and at too great stakes to risk the additional exhaustion of seeing one of my favourite bands of all time live... for possibly the only time in my life...
When I first saw the video for Every Breath You Take, I already recognised that The Police were an established band of note though I couldn't name any of their songs (though it would turn out I did know a few already.) I was taken in my the compellingly moody single instantly. It wasn't even the coolest video to come off the album.
I think I actually got Synchronicity through the Columbia House music club - which in those days was a 4-6 weeks 'til delievery kind of affair, a seeming enternity compared to the Amazon.com 4 business days of today.
I loved the album, but Demetri... I think it's safe to say that that album changed his life. Demetri became a lifelong Police fan, and as one of my best childhood friends, he brought the rest of the Police albums into my life.
Five albums seems like such a rip-off. We only got five from one of the best trios ever put together.
Sting: This guy started his career as one of the greatest song-writers in rock history... and there is only one direction to go from there. His time with the Police produced several dozen of the most perfectly crafted songs ever. Paul McCartney personally thanked him for writing a perfect bass-line for Walking on the Moon. Sting's solo career however fell victim to the law of diminishing returns. Dream of the Blue Turtles is a masterwork. Nothing Like the Sun has masterworks on it. Soul Cages has a masterwork on it. After that his career becomes a scattering of moderate accomplishments floating amongst a sea of noodling pretentious mediocre MoR.
Stewart Copeland: Watching Live in Atlanta more than a decade after it had been released, I found myself entranced by Stewart Copeland's performance. His rhythmic texturing made the Police what they were - not to detract from either of his compatriots prowess. He's fucking brilliant. After watching that video I wrote an email to Demetri expressing my appreciation for Stewart Copeland in a way I have never managed to recapture the effectiveness of.
Andy Summers: When they formed the Police, Andy Summers was already a London Club Act legend. He was the guy who lost out to Ron Wood as Mick Taylor's replacement (Oh how different music history would have been!) in The Rolling Stones - but clearly Keith Richards wasn't going to allow himself to be upstaged by the gargantuan talent of Summers. (Yeah, bring it on Stones fans, I have nothing but contempt for the three chords your boys have never wavered from at tedium.) Put it this way, when Summers agreed to be the senior member of the police, Sting and Stewart, went all fanboy.
When a year ago a reunion tour was announced, I went all fanboy. Demetri went all fanboy. We went and paid the extra cost necessary to get advance tickets through Best Buy with our other friend David. Demetri made plans to fly from London England to Vancouver in order to see the first Police concert in what might have well have been ever in our lives.
Then life started to interfere.
My film, Beast of Bottomless Lake was necessarily scheduled to overlap with the concert. Our schedule quivered back and forth right up until the end, and in the end I arrived back from the Okanagan the day before the concert, exhausted and already on the verge of an exhaustion triggered illness I would have been borderline... but something had also come up for Demetri. He couldn't make it either. That pretty much did it for me. Being there without him seemed to me like it would have been awkwardly hollow. I felt like I would have been betraying him.
I admit I really wish I could have seen the Police, and the fact that technically I could have made it makes it a real question, but given the same choice under the same circumstances I would take the same option - regretfully missing one of the most anticipated concerts of my life. The additional stakes were simply too high.
Demetri did eventually get to see the Police. If I get a second chance, I figure I'll take it.
When I first saw the video for Every Breath You Take, I already recognised that The Police were an established band of note though I couldn't name any of their songs (though it would turn out I did know a few already.) I was taken in my the compellingly moody single instantly. It wasn't even the coolest video to come off the album.
I think I actually got Synchronicity through the Columbia House music club - which in those days was a 4-6 weeks 'til delievery kind of affair, a seeming enternity compared to the Amazon.com 4 business days of today.
I loved the album, but Demetri... I think it's safe to say that that album changed his life. Demetri became a lifelong Police fan, and as one of my best childhood friends, he brought the rest of the Police albums into my life.
Five albums seems like such a rip-off. We only got five from one of the best trios ever put together.
Sting: This guy started his career as one of the greatest song-writers in rock history... and there is only one direction to go from there. His time with the Police produced several dozen of the most perfectly crafted songs ever. Paul McCartney personally thanked him for writing a perfect bass-line for Walking on the Moon. Sting's solo career however fell victim to the law of diminishing returns. Dream of the Blue Turtles is a masterwork. Nothing Like the Sun has masterworks on it. Soul Cages has a masterwork on it. After that his career becomes a scattering of moderate accomplishments floating amongst a sea of noodling pretentious mediocre MoR.
Stewart Copeland: Watching Live in Atlanta more than a decade after it had been released, I found myself entranced by Stewart Copeland's performance. His rhythmic texturing made the Police what they were - not to detract from either of his compatriots prowess. He's fucking brilliant. After watching that video I wrote an email to Demetri expressing my appreciation for Stewart Copeland in a way I have never managed to recapture the effectiveness of.
Andy Summers: When they formed the Police, Andy Summers was already a London Club Act legend. He was the guy who lost out to Ron Wood as Mick Taylor's replacement (Oh how different music history would have been!) in The Rolling Stones - but clearly Keith Richards wasn't going to allow himself to be upstaged by the gargantuan talent of Summers. (Yeah, bring it on Stones fans, I have nothing but contempt for the three chords your boys have never wavered from at tedium.) Put it this way, when Summers agreed to be the senior member of the police, Sting and Stewart, went all fanboy.
When a year ago a reunion tour was announced, I went all fanboy. Demetri went all fanboy. We went and paid the extra cost necessary to get advance tickets through Best Buy with our other friend David. Demetri made plans to fly from London England to Vancouver in order to see the first Police concert in what might have well have been ever in our lives.
Then life started to interfere.
My film, Beast of Bottomless Lake was necessarily scheduled to overlap with the concert. Our schedule quivered back and forth right up until the end, and in the end I arrived back from the Okanagan the day before the concert, exhausted and already on the verge of an exhaustion triggered illness I would have been borderline... but something had also come up for Demetri. He couldn't make it either. That pretty much did it for me. Being there without him seemed to me like it would have been awkwardly hollow. I felt like I would have been betraying him.
I admit I really wish I could have seen the Police, and the fact that technically I could have made it makes it a real question, but given the same choice under the same circumstances I would take the same option - regretfully missing one of the most anticipated concerts of my life. The additional stakes were simply too high.
Demetri did eventually get to see the Police. If I get a second chance, I figure I'll take it.
Thursday, January 24, 2008
Cloverfield vs. Jaws & The Art of Missing the Point
WARNING! SPOILERS!
So I went and saw Cloverfield last night.
It was a wild ride. I totally loved it. When I left the theatre I mentioned to the friends I went with that I expected that most of the criticism that would be lobbed at it would be how it failed to explain the initiating circumstances or the implied victory over the monster. I also had heard people couldn't handle the 'handy-cam cinematography' a la Blair Witch Project.
So this morning I took a look at what was available on-line.
Sure enough.
Other criticisms: Lame witless dialogue. Exploitative 9/11 imagery.
Every single one of these criticisms are complete and utter bullshit.
For starters I can name a dozen film (easily) that feature an enormous creature rampaging through a city. Most of them include the word 'Godzilla' in them, but it's hardly limited to that franchise. I highly recommend The Host. Despite The Host's rather refreshing look at the genre, it needs to be said about the genre as a whole - "Been there, done that."
We've all seen the tale of how the plucky team of scientists, intrepid military men and the token civilian pulled into the thick of things band together to vanquish the building-sized monster.
What hasn't been seen is the story of the guy who we see get crushed under it's foot before the final reel. THAT is this story. Uncompromisingly so. J.J. Abrams & Director Matt Reeves are never tempted to swerve to a place where our heroes become instrumental in the creature's demise. They come close, witnessing the inital bombing runs on it, but then they become the victims of the obligatory swipe at a pesky helicopter. As our beaten heroes lay in the rubble at the end of the film waiting for it to all end, their hideout becomes collateral damage to the final all-out attack on the creature.
We can assume that the creature is defeated - it is strongly implied by the nature of the faux government tag applied to the start of the film, one which indicates an inquiry into the incident. Did Rob and Beth survive? Probably not, but we don't know. Did we hear the creature's demise? We don't know. (There are reports that if you play the final radio transmission backwards that it say's "It's still alive." Even if true, frankly 'backwards masking' doesn't really exist in the world of this film. But the concept of the film directly prevents us from knowing based on the internal context, and that is how it should be. Anything else would be a cheat.
And the same applies to the cinematography and the dialogue. Both were slavishly realistic. Real people aren't capable of tossing out witty one-liners in response to their strife every two minutes for 90 minutes (or seven hours - the time the film plays out in). The film even subtly comments on it - "Why don't you ask me if I've ever heard of... Garfield." A line so witless, commenting on another character's lack of wit... it's genius.
And nothing can better put us in the situation than to see it all first person... though naming the character with the camera 'Hud' (Hudson/Heads Up Display) walks the line of self-reference. This does mean that we don't see much of the monster, 'cause naturally the protagonists are usually running in the opposite direction, but refer back to my first point - WE'VE SEEN THIS MOVIE BEFORE! Not only do we not need to see the monster, it's a refreshing and more realistic to show it to us this way.
Which leads me tot he complaints of exploitation of 9/11 imagery. Exploitation? Go to hell. If anything it's the greatest of respect. I've got this theory - stay with me here - that if we were all to be exposed to the horror of being in the chaos of the hot zone it owuld happen a hell of a alot less. And the hot zone could be anything from Ground Zero at the World Trade Centre or downtown Baghdad in April of 2003 or Guernica in 1937, or Dresden 1945... I can go on of course. In all these cases a common trait is that the civilian victims (and survivors) at the centre of the storm have little notion of what is actually happening. They might know 'we are being bombed' but even that may be obscured (note that many people thought 9/11 was a bombing while it was happening - despite the jet-liners flying into buildings overhead.) Cloverfield presents this reality clearly (in it's obscurity) from start to finish. In his final address to the camera, Rob says "If you are watching this you know more about what's happening than I do." This is thematically a very important moment. What is the name of the film? "Cloverfield." A military slang term referencing the appearance from above of an area which has just been carpet-bombed, as the dust is still settling. Could this be any more clear? What is it like to be in the horrific heat of that moment? Cloverfield attempts to capture that. Again, the first-person view is an unrelenting choice which hammers this point home and never breaks it's own rule. Having the attack in question be a movie monster rather than a military power is almost irrelevant. Part of the point is that our protagonists only know a tiny sliver of the story, so it might as well be Godzilla - or whatever.
Let's face it, being a giant monster gets more people through the doors. Just look at the record breaking box-office figures of the first week. In that sense it's more exploitative, but if it had been an attack by a military power (which in New York would be even more absurd than a movie monster in today's day and age, the supernatural allows the leap of willful suspension of disbelief) half the people would come out to watch the movie... and the political subtext would be far too on the nose and less powerful.
My ultimate point here - if you've missed it - is that Cloverfield actually honours the victims of 9/11 (and more importantly, more horrific events - some people (cough, cough, New Yorkers, cough) really need to get over themselves) by bringing us inside the horror of such events so that we can all understand what it might be like, how confusing and terrifying it can be, and hopefully steel a little more resolve in each of us to prevent it from happening again.
Okay, I'm off my soap box for the moment. But that doesn't mean I'm finished!
A few more thoughts...
Titanic was a love story set against the backdrop of the world's most famous passnger liner sinking. Cloverfield does the same by putting a story against the backdrop of a Godzilla-like attack. The attack isn't the story. Surviving in the heaping rubble is.
I went home and rather randomly put Jaws in the DVD player. Watching the infamous first opening scene I had a revelation. Spielberg knew exactly what was going on underneath the water as Susan Backlinie was attacked by the shark. None of what happens is random. I know that making a reality of what is unseen is an important creative tool, but suddenly with outrageous clarity I saw what was going on beneath the surface. A taste... a bite and tearing a piece (leg or legs) off. A moment's respite as she clings to the buoy, legless, in shock as the first morsels go down and the shark circles for a second attack.... I imagined it all in greater clarity than this. (In a side note - I got to see our Jaws tribute scene edited last weekend. Made me very happy. It was always one of my pet scenes in the "Beast..." script.)
It occurred to me that Abrams and Reeves similarly knew at any given moment in Cloverfield what was going on in the bigger picture. What stage of any pedestrian creature feature would be going on in the world of the film.
Okay, I'm done.
So I went and saw Cloverfield last night.
It was a wild ride. I totally loved it. When I left the theatre I mentioned to the friends I went with that I expected that most of the criticism that would be lobbed at it would be how it failed to explain the initiating circumstances or the implied victory over the monster. I also had heard people couldn't handle the 'handy-cam cinematography' a la Blair Witch Project.
So this morning I took a look at what was available on-line.
Sure enough.
Other criticisms: Lame witless dialogue. Exploitative 9/11 imagery.
Every single one of these criticisms are complete and utter bullshit.
For starters I can name a dozen film (easily) that feature an enormous creature rampaging through a city. Most of them include the word 'Godzilla' in them, but it's hardly limited to that franchise. I highly recommend The Host. Despite The Host's rather refreshing look at the genre, it needs to be said about the genre as a whole - "Been there, done that."
We've all seen the tale of how the plucky team of scientists, intrepid military men and the token civilian pulled into the thick of things band together to vanquish the building-sized monster.
What hasn't been seen is the story of the guy who we see get crushed under it's foot before the final reel. THAT is this story. Uncompromisingly so. J.J. Abrams & Director Matt Reeves are never tempted to swerve to a place where our heroes become instrumental in the creature's demise. They come close, witnessing the inital bombing runs on it, but then they become the victims of the obligatory swipe at a pesky helicopter. As our beaten heroes lay in the rubble at the end of the film waiting for it to all end, their hideout becomes collateral damage to the final all-out attack on the creature.
We can assume that the creature is defeated - it is strongly implied by the nature of the faux government tag applied to the start of the film, one which indicates an inquiry into the incident. Did Rob and Beth survive? Probably not, but we don't know. Did we hear the creature's demise? We don't know. (There are reports that if you play the final radio transmission backwards that it say's "It's still alive." Even if true, frankly 'backwards masking' doesn't really exist in the world of this film. But the concept of the film directly prevents us from knowing based on the internal context, and that is how it should be. Anything else would be a cheat.
And the same applies to the cinematography and the dialogue. Both were slavishly realistic. Real people aren't capable of tossing out witty one-liners in response to their strife every two minutes for 90 minutes (or seven hours - the time the film plays out in). The film even subtly comments on it - "Why don't you ask me if I've ever heard of... Garfield." A line so witless, commenting on another character's lack of wit... it's genius.
And nothing can better put us in the situation than to see it all first person... though naming the character with the camera 'Hud' (Hudson/Heads Up Display) walks the line of self-reference. This does mean that we don't see much of the monster, 'cause naturally the protagonists are usually running in the opposite direction, but refer back to my first point - WE'VE SEEN THIS MOVIE BEFORE! Not only do we not need to see the monster, it's a refreshing and more realistic to show it to us this way.
Which leads me tot he complaints of exploitation of 9/11 imagery. Exploitation? Go to hell. If anything it's the greatest of respect. I've got this theory - stay with me here - that if we were all to be exposed to the horror of being in the chaos of the hot zone it owuld happen a hell of a alot less. And the hot zone could be anything from Ground Zero at the World Trade Centre or downtown Baghdad in April of 2003 or Guernica in 1937, or Dresden 1945... I can go on of course. In all these cases a common trait is that the civilian victims (and survivors) at the centre of the storm have little notion of what is actually happening. They might know 'we are being bombed' but even that may be obscured (note that many people thought 9/11 was a bombing while it was happening - despite the jet-liners flying into buildings overhead.) Cloverfield presents this reality clearly (in it's obscurity) from start to finish. In his final address to the camera, Rob says "If you are watching this you know more about what's happening than I do." This is thematically a very important moment. What is the name of the film? "Cloverfield." A military slang term referencing the appearance from above of an area which has just been carpet-bombed, as the dust is still settling. Could this be any more clear? What is it like to be in the horrific heat of that moment? Cloverfield attempts to capture that. Again, the first-person view is an unrelenting choice which hammers this point home and never breaks it's own rule. Having the attack in question be a movie monster rather than a military power is almost irrelevant. Part of the point is that our protagonists only know a tiny sliver of the story, so it might as well be Godzilla - or whatever.
Let's face it, being a giant monster gets more people through the doors. Just look at the record breaking box-office figures of the first week. In that sense it's more exploitative, but if it had been an attack by a military power (which in New York would be even more absurd than a movie monster in today's day and age, the supernatural allows the leap of willful suspension of disbelief) half the people would come out to watch the movie... and the political subtext would be far too on the nose and less powerful.
My ultimate point here - if you've missed it - is that Cloverfield actually honours the victims of 9/11 (and more importantly, more horrific events - some people (cough, cough, New Yorkers, cough) really need to get over themselves) by bringing us inside the horror of such events so that we can all understand what it might be like, how confusing and terrifying it can be, and hopefully steel a little more resolve in each of us to prevent it from happening again.
Okay, I'm off my soap box for the moment. But that doesn't mean I'm finished!
A few more thoughts...
Titanic was a love story set against the backdrop of the world's most famous passnger liner sinking. Cloverfield does the same by putting a story against the backdrop of a Godzilla-like attack. The attack isn't the story. Surviving in the heaping rubble is.
I went home and rather randomly put Jaws in the DVD player. Watching the infamous first opening scene I had a revelation. Spielberg knew exactly what was going on underneath the water as Susan Backlinie was attacked by the shark. None of what happens is random. I know that making a reality of what is unseen is an important creative tool, but suddenly with outrageous clarity I saw what was going on beneath the surface. A taste... a bite and tearing a piece (leg or legs) off. A moment's respite as she clings to the buoy, legless, in shock as the first morsels go down and the shark circles for a second attack.... I imagined it all in greater clarity than this. (In a side note - I got to see our Jaws tribute scene edited last weekend. Made me very happy. It was always one of my pet scenes in the "Beast..." script.)
It occurred to me that Abrams and Reeves similarly knew at any given moment in Cloverfield what was going on in the bigger picture. What stage of any pedestrian creature feature would be going on in the world of the film.
Okay, I'm done.
Friday, January 18, 2008
Defending the Music XIII: I Want You (In a Vinyl Suit)
I've been plugging away at other endeavours. Including taking a massive blow to the face. Got hit by a planet (you can probably deduce which one) and my head is still ringingBut I'm back now... at least for the moment. No doubt I'll get distracted again.
The first time I heard The Offspring, I thought to myself, Wow. We've dated the same girl. "Self-Esteem" from the biggest selling independent album of all time (pretty good for a bunch of kids who though their high-school janitor might make a good guitar player), appropriately titled 'Smash' cut to the quick. Music never seemed more promising than it did at that time.
While they never put another album together that was as awe inspiring as 'Smash' and they definitely gave in to the power of pop success, but there were many bright moments to come - even if they were more fun than inspiring. But they were consistently fun. Mixing equal parts, humour, politics and personal revelation their songs build irresistable hooks around anthemic punk cores. But wait, there's more! Offspring songs always sound like Offspring songs, but they've gone to great lengths to explore a variety of ethnic rhythms in their music as well, from the punk-ubiquitous ska, to Latin varieties & banghra to calypso.
I'll be the first to admit that I haven't had a lot in the way of personal insight since I first heard 'Self-Esteem' driving up Mt. Tolmie in Colin's car on our way to class, but I still get plenty of catharsis from chanting "Nah-na why don't you get a job?" from the song of the same name years after the fact.
And it's worth mentioning that the look of the character I play in 'Beast of Bottomless Lake' was based on Offspring lead singer, Dexter Holland.
Okay, this has been short but I gotta go contend with the concussion...
The first time I heard The Offspring, I thought to myself, Wow. We've dated the same girl. "Self-Esteem" from the biggest selling independent album of all time (pretty good for a bunch of kids who though their high-school janitor might make a good guitar player), appropriately titled 'Smash' cut to the quick. Music never seemed more promising than it did at that time.
While they never put another album together that was as awe inspiring as 'Smash' and they definitely gave in to the power of pop success, but there were many bright moments to come - even if they were more fun than inspiring. But they were consistently fun. Mixing equal parts, humour, politics and personal revelation their songs build irresistable hooks around anthemic punk cores. But wait, there's more! Offspring songs always sound like Offspring songs, but they've gone to great lengths to explore a variety of ethnic rhythms in their music as well, from the punk-ubiquitous ska, to Latin varieties & banghra to calypso.
I'll be the first to admit that I haven't had a lot in the way of personal insight since I first heard 'Self-Esteem' driving up Mt. Tolmie in Colin's car on our way to class, but I still get plenty of catharsis from chanting "Nah-na why don't you get a job?" from the song of the same name years after the fact.
And it's worth mentioning that the look of the character I play in 'Beast of Bottomless Lake' was based on Offspring lead singer, Dexter Holland.
Okay, this has been short but I gotta go contend with the concussion...
Thursday, April 12, 2007
A LONG long weekend.
I'm still recovering from the past five days.
On Sunday night I drove up to Penticton with David, the producer of Beast of Bottomless Lake. We arrived at the Ranch after 11pm, and pretty much went to sleep.
The morning provided the sole lie-in of the weekend.
When we got up I got to have a bit of a boo around the ranch. It is our location production office in the Okanagan. Nice place. Though once we cram a dozen people in dorm-style, it's going to be a good thing that we have plenty of exterior room to escape each other in. Not that we'll be doing much more than sleep there, but still.
Over the day David and I prepped for the arrival of the others. I also got to watch the world men's curling final - Canada kicked ass.
We bought food (which I prepped for minimum maintenance over the next four days) and did a bit of organizing of space - both for accomodation and shooting.
Shari arrived around 4:30ish with her Grip, Thomas.
Last time Shari and I were up in the Okanagan we were doing some pretty unabashed flirting. We are now each variously attached. Or rather, she is. I am merely feeling overwhelmed by the time pressure of the project to the point of not being able to find the time for romance... though I feel good about a prospect who knows full well I'm heading her way as soon as the film is in the can.
We lightly addressed that and all was well. Though our friendly adversarial relationship continued through this week, just without the innuendo.
Craig arrived abound six-ish with Rob our camera op and Patrick (Location sound).
Between the early work David and I did, and Shari and Thomas did after they arrived, the set (the garage) was practically ready.
We sat down for dinner (I made pasta) and the Craig and Shari started planning the evening shoot. Gabe - an old friend of mine from university who lives in the Okanagan - was our actor for the evening. When he arrived we got him in costume and got to work. It took about three hours to shoot his scene.
It was fun and silly. It's one of two bits that are supposed to be poorly done re-creations. Such an odd thing deliberately making something badly. The trick is to not do anything to consciously make it bad. The trick is to stop yourself from doing the things that would make it good.
After a late night de-brief/production-meeting we went to bed.
Craig and I were sharing a room. We were both too excited to sleep. Add in a few well timed farts (oh the puerile humour) and we were up until dawn. Craig figured he got about 2 hours sleep. I figure I got less than one.
Easter Monday morning we were off to CATO to meet with students and to do some final auditions for the 'Young Paul'.
The turn out of student volunteers was disappointing. (Though we got a number of emails over the next few days.) The auditions were pretty clear cut. Twenty young men, only two really worked for us and even then, one of the two was clearly better suited than the other.
We then went and did a tech-scout of the boat we will be using for the shoot - it went really well. The skipper seems a great guy and seemed to like us. The boat itself is just the right level of functionality, space and just enough things that look like they need repair to give it real character.
We followed up with our biggest location - the Summerland Yacht Club. I was very impressed. It is totally as much as we could expect from a gratis locale.
Back home to the ranch for Barbecue. Mmmmm. Barbecue.
After another evening meeting it was time for an earlier bed.
An even earlier morning followed. We rushed to Kelowna to shoot a few scenes at Shelter Bay marina. It was great. Our 'Buck Rogers' arrived and we shot his main interview scene. Next we moved down to the docks to shoot some play-back footage of a reporter. Our actor, Dorothy Dalba was a bit nervous. Craig and I did what we could to loosen her up. Gradually we made our way towards what we needed. Before take 5 I told her that she was charming and delightful and that the news-item she was presenting was totally silly, and that when she was laughing at it it was sexy.
I got a lot of razzing for flirting with her, but she nailed the next take with a big smile on her face. In the last bit we had her do (which integrated 'Buck') I joked around about the flirting before take three - again she nailed it. I'm thinking it's a tactic that's going to be valuable, even if I do take some flak for it.
Clare & Lainie came down and watched some of the shooting. A few of us stopped at their place on the way back to the ranch and visited for a bit and collected the map that Clare painted for us and their investment in the film.
After a quick lunch we shot Chief Bigsky. Perry Williams nailed it in two takes. Craig was moved to tears. The shots look great.
That night we went out to a Mexican dinner and had another pow-wow including a longer meeting between Craig, David and I. We ran numbers about and looked at everything and despite being cranky as all hell, came out the other end with the promising outlook that we are within spitting distance of being able to pull this sucker off.
Wednesday morning Shari and Thomas (who I might add was awesome - too bad he's not going to be around for principal) headed out really early. Craig and Patrick and I headed back to Kelowna for a number of meetings and David and Rob hung back at the Ranch to clean up before heading back to Vancouver.
Craig and Patrick and I met with a caterer - a very nice lady named Lynn. We hope she comes through for us. We stopped by CATO again to say thanks. We nixed a connection with Rodney... who has been a bit hard to nail down anyhow.
We ran out to Bertram Park for a tech-scout. That was excellent. We met with the guy who will be custodian to us there and got really specific about where we're shooting each of our scenes there.
A few minor stops including lunch and we hit the road home.
I was really wiped out. My plan was to get home, relax and watch Game one of the Canucks playoffs and get to be early. I got in just after the game had started - only missed a little bit of the first period. Well, so much for my relax and go to bed early plan - the game became the sixth longest in NHL history. The Canucks won in the end, thank God. And Roberto Luongo not only won his first playoff game ever, but simultaneously got the record for the most shots a goalie has ever faced in a game ever - at 75.
On Sunday night I drove up to Penticton with David, the producer of Beast of Bottomless Lake. We arrived at the Ranch after 11pm, and pretty much went to sleep.
The morning provided the sole lie-in of the weekend.
When we got up I got to have a bit of a boo around the ranch. It is our location production office in the Okanagan. Nice place. Though once we cram a dozen people in dorm-style, it's going to be a good thing that we have plenty of exterior room to escape each other in. Not that we'll be doing much more than sleep there, but still.
Over the day David and I prepped for the arrival of the others. I also got to watch the world men's curling final - Canada kicked ass.
We bought food (which I prepped for minimum maintenance over the next four days) and did a bit of organizing of space - both for accomodation and shooting.
Shari arrived around 4:30ish with her Grip, Thomas.
Last time Shari and I were up in the Okanagan we were doing some pretty unabashed flirting. We are now each variously attached. Or rather, she is. I am merely feeling overwhelmed by the time pressure of the project to the point of not being able to find the time for romance... though I feel good about a prospect who knows full well I'm heading her way as soon as the film is in the can.
We lightly addressed that and all was well. Though our friendly adversarial relationship continued through this week, just without the innuendo.
Craig arrived abound six-ish with Rob our camera op and Patrick (Location sound).
Between the early work David and I did, and Shari and Thomas did after they arrived, the set (the garage) was practically ready.
We sat down for dinner (I made pasta) and the Craig and Shari started planning the evening shoot. Gabe - an old friend of mine from university who lives in the Okanagan - was our actor for the evening. When he arrived we got him in costume and got to work. It took about three hours to shoot his scene.
It was fun and silly. It's one of two bits that are supposed to be poorly done re-creations. Such an odd thing deliberately making something badly. The trick is to not do anything to consciously make it bad. The trick is to stop yourself from doing the things that would make it good.
After a late night de-brief/production-meeting we went to bed.
Craig and I were sharing a room. We were both too excited to sleep. Add in a few well timed farts (oh the puerile humour) and we were up until dawn. Craig figured he got about 2 hours sleep. I figure I got less than one.
Easter Monday morning we were off to CATO to meet with students and to do some final auditions for the 'Young Paul'.
The turn out of student volunteers was disappointing. (Though we got a number of emails over the next few days.) The auditions were pretty clear cut. Twenty young men, only two really worked for us and even then, one of the two was clearly better suited than the other.
We then went and did a tech-scout of the boat we will be using for the shoot - it went really well. The skipper seems a great guy and seemed to like us. The boat itself is just the right level of functionality, space and just enough things that look like they need repair to give it real character.
We followed up with our biggest location - the Summerland Yacht Club. I was very impressed. It is totally as much as we could expect from a gratis locale.
Back home to the ranch for Barbecue. Mmmmm. Barbecue.
After another evening meeting it was time for an earlier bed.
An even earlier morning followed. We rushed to Kelowna to shoot a few scenes at Shelter Bay marina. It was great. Our 'Buck Rogers' arrived and we shot his main interview scene. Next we moved down to the docks to shoot some play-back footage of a reporter. Our actor, Dorothy Dalba was a bit nervous. Craig and I did what we could to loosen her up. Gradually we made our way towards what we needed. Before take 5 I told her that she was charming and delightful and that the news-item she was presenting was totally silly, and that when she was laughing at it it was sexy.
I got a lot of razzing for flirting with her, but she nailed the next take with a big smile on her face. In the last bit we had her do (which integrated 'Buck') I joked around about the flirting before take three - again she nailed it. I'm thinking it's a tactic that's going to be valuable, even if I do take some flak for it.
Clare & Lainie came down and watched some of the shooting. A few of us stopped at their place on the way back to the ranch and visited for a bit and collected the map that Clare painted for us and their investment in the film.
After a quick lunch we shot Chief Bigsky. Perry Williams nailed it in two takes. Craig was moved to tears. The shots look great.
That night we went out to a Mexican dinner and had another pow-wow including a longer meeting between Craig, David and I. We ran numbers about and looked at everything and despite being cranky as all hell, came out the other end with the promising outlook that we are within spitting distance of being able to pull this sucker off.
Wednesday morning Shari and Thomas (who I might add was awesome - too bad he's not going to be around for principal) headed out really early. Craig and Patrick and I headed back to Kelowna for a number of meetings and David and Rob hung back at the Ranch to clean up before heading back to Vancouver.
Craig and Patrick and I met with a caterer - a very nice lady named Lynn. We hope she comes through for us. We stopped by CATO again to say thanks. We nixed a connection with Rodney... who has been a bit hard to nail down anyhow.
We ran out to Bertram Park for a tech-scout. That was excellent. We met with the guy who will be custodian to us there and got really specific about where we're shooting each of our scenes there.
A few minor stops including lunch and we hit the road home.
I was really wiped out. My plan was to get home, relax and watch Game one of the Canucks playoffs and get to be early. I got in just after the game had started - only missed a little bit of the first period. Well, so much for my relax and go to bed early plan - the game became the sixth longest in NHL history. The Canucks won in the end, thank God. And Roberto Luongo not only won his first playoff game ever, but simultaneously got the record for the most shots a goalie has ever faced in a game ever - at 75.
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