Hmm... there’s always a rub somewhere.
On the one hand, I want to promote our MySpace site as much as possible. On the other, I kind of think it’s something akin to cheating to accept the continual stream of thinly disguised porn sites that keep making friend requests. Sure, they’d get our numbers up, but I’m not that obsessed with shameless self-promotion.
So for now, I think I’m going to have to amend my earlier post. Yeah, we’re acccepting just about anyone who wants to join. But there is a human being looking at the actual profiles of our requestors; if all I’m seeing is a bunch of provocative poses and links to your webcam, then sorry, but I’m going to have to say no.
(And for my personal MySpace page, I’m probably going to have to actually have some idea who you are.)
Monday, May 29, 2006
Monday, May 22, 2006
Staying (Somewhat) Current
In our continuing effort to keep up with what the kids are doing nowadays, Tohubohu Productions has gone ahead and set up a MySpace account. We may end up cross-posting blog entries there, uploading videos, and what have you, but for starters, we’d definitely like to see if we can get a few “friends.”
So if you’ve got a MySpace account (and if not, it’s easy to sign up), you can go to Tohubohu’s profile and send us a friend request. We’re not picky, so unless there’s something freakishly abhorrent about you, we’ll accept your request; we like to be as inclusive as possible.
(And on a personal note, I’ve also got my own profile page up, and I’m also desperate for the personal validation that only a whoppingly huge list of friends can bring. I’m also fairly lenient in my friend-accepting practices — though probably just a bit more discriminating. But probably not much, come to think of it.)
We’ll keep you posted on further developments!
So if you’ve got a MySpace account (and if not, it’s easy to sign up), you can go to Tohubohu’s profile and send us a friend request. We’re not picky, so unless there’s something freakishly abhorrent about you, we’ll accept your request; we like to be as inclusive as possible.
(And on a personal note, I’ve also got my own profile page up, and I’m also desperate for the personal validation that only a whoppingly huge list of friends can bring. I’m also fairly lenient in my friend-accepting practices — though probably just a bit more discriminating. But probably not much, come to think of it.)
We’ll keep you posted on further developments!
Friday, May 19, 2006
The Shoe Drops
Unfortunately, “Close Quarters” did not garner a slot in this year’s “Best of the 48 Hour Film Project” screening. Disappointing, yes, but hardly a reflection on all of the hard work that went into this production. Thanks go out to everyone who made this a remarkable experience, and we look forward to working with you again in the near future!
And finally, for those of you who’ve been waiting anxiously, the movie is now available for on-line viewing. The large-size version is ready now, and the smaller versions should be available in the near future.
So give it a look, and let us know what you think!
And finally, for those of you who’ve been waiting anxiously, the movie is now available for on-line viewing. The large-size version is ready now, and the smaller versions should be available in the near future.
So give it a look, and let us know what you think!
Friday, May 12, 2006
Who Knew? Well, Somebody Did
Turns out that the required character for D.C.’s 48 Hour Film Project is a real person: Tim Tate, Gay Glass Sculptor Extraordinaire.
Sometimes truth is stranger than fiction. And here we were criticizing that selection as being an unrealistic caricature rather than a credible character.
To our credit, we did change it to Tina Tate (as permitted by the contest), and I don’t think we were harmed by our lack of knowledge in the creative process.
To our detriment (or, rather, to the credit of our competitors, which amounts to the same thing), it looks like 2004 contest winner Jon Gann (“Signs”) actually knows the guy. They’re next-door neighbors. Can’t help thinking that might have given them a bit of a head start (nice when you can use a piece of the artist’s actual work — which you happen to have at home).
In all seriousness, I’m not griping — more power to ’em. This contest isn’t meant to start from a “level playing field” for anyone. Our team may not have had actual glass scluptures, but we did have an unfairly creative and dedicated bunch of contributors.
So there.
Sometimes truth is stranger than fiction. And here we were criticizing that selection as being an unrealistic caricature rather than a credible character.
To our credit, we did change it to Tina Tate (as permitted by the contest), and I don’t think we were harmed by our lack of knowledge in the creative process.
To our detriment (or, rather, to the credit of our competitors, which amounts to the same thing), it looks like 2004 contest winner Jon Gann (“Signs”) actually knows the guy. They’re next-door neighbors. Can’t help thinking that might have given them a bit of a head start (nice when you can use a piece of the artist’s actual work — which you happen to have at home).
In all seriousness, I’m not griping — more power to ’em. This contest isn’t meant to start from a “level playing field” for anyone. Our team may not have had actual glass scluptures, but we did have an unfairly creative and dedicated bunch of contributors.
So there.
Tonight’s the Big Night
Remember, tonight’s the big theatrical premiere of “Close Quarters.” As of this writing, tickets are still available.
It’s at the AFI Silver Theatre in Silver Spring, at 9:30 p.m. The theater’s at 8633 Colesville Road (at the intersection of Colesville Road and Georgia Avenue), and there’s parking available for only $3.00 behind the Lee Building (pretty much at that same intersection).
We’ll try to get the movie up online at some point on our website, but it’ll be a while — we’ve got some technical hurdles to overcome with the 24fps shooting speed versus the 30fps speed of the video. For those of you more technically inclined, we shot in widescreen 24p (23.98fps) with a basic 3:2 pulldown (rather than the advanced 2:3:3:2 pulldown), and (in the interests of speed) edited in 30i (29.97fps); for the archival copy we’ll want to do a reverse telecine to restore the 24p footage, and reedit at that frame rate (and in 16:9 widescreen).
I think I can safely assume that that explanation meant absolutely nothing to 98 percent of you, so just trust me when I say that tonight’s premiere is the single best way to see this movie for the foreseeable future.
See you there!
It’s at the AFI Silver Theatre in Silver Spring, at 9:30 p.m. The theater’s at 8633 Colesville Road (at the intersection of Colesville Road and Georgia Avenue), and there’s parking available for only $3.00 behind the Lee Building (pretty much at that same intersection).
We’ll try to get the movie up online at some point on our website, but it’ll be a while — we’ve got some technical hurdles to overcome with the 24fps shooting speed versus the 30fps speed of the video. For those of you more technically inclined, we shot in widescreen 24p (23.98fps) with a basic 3:2 pulldown (rather than the advanced 2:3:3:2 pulldown), and (in the interests of speed) edited in 30i (29.97fps); for the archival copy we’ll want to do a reverse telecine to restore the 24p footage, and reedit at that frame rate (and in 16:9 widescreen).
I think I can safely assume that that explanation meant absolutely nothing to 98 percent of you, so just trust me when I say that tonight’s premiere is the single best way to see this movie for the foreseeable future.
See you there!
Monday, May 08, 2006
Tohubohu’s Latest: “Close Quarters”
I have to say, we’ve learned a lot every time we’ve done this, and this weekend probably resulted in our smoothest work yet. Not that it wasn’t without some significant bumps. We drew “Drama” — a tough category for a group whose talents certainly fall more into the comedic vein (though you can feel free to debate our success in that arena). Still, as Drama was a new category this year, it was somewhat rewarding to be one of the “inaugural groups” to give it a go.
On the flip side, we’d lost our writer mere days before. So I, our producer (and my wife) Pam, and a few of our actors all hammered out our script, finally winding up around 4:00 a.m.
A quick catnap (not to mention a much-needed shower) later and we were up and shooting bright and early Saturday morning. We hadn’t had time to work out a detailed production schedule the night before (and several of our actors — being in other shows or rehearsals — had time restrictions), so Pam ordered shots on the fly. A last-minute discovery was that a construction crew was working a few doors down from our location, but at that point it was too late to move — we just scheduled our outdoor shots for the lunch break and hoped the noise wouldn’t carry inside.
Our editor was working on-site, grabbing tapes (and the very detailed notes from our script supervisor) and putting together rough cuts of scenes right there. We finally wrapped around 8:00 p.m. — the earliest we’ve ever finished one of these shoots — and I took over shot-logging and capture so our editor could grab a quick rest. But by about midnight, we had all of our footage captured and a rough cut of everything but two complicated scenes put together.
Unfortunately, we also discovered that we had some story problems. We ran the rough cut past a couple of test audiences (okay, past some coworkers I was able to shanghai to watch it), and there was a lot about the character relationships that wasn’t coming through. So we (i.e., Pam) hammered out a quick prologue scene and sent her, our D.P., and a couple of actors out to shoot it while the editor and I kept at the cutting. Our “second unit” finished shooting by 2:00, and we folded the new scene in, color-corrected and scored the film, rendered a letterboxed version (an agonizingly slow process), and dumped it out to tape.
At 7:28 p.m. — just two minutes before the final deadline — I ran through the doors of the Warehouse Theater, two copies of Tohubohu’s official entry, “Close Quarters,” in hand. Which will screen this Friday night, May 12, at the AFI Silver Theatre, at 9:30 p.m. (tickets are available via their website, hint, hint).
All in all, an extraordinary weekend, a thrilling experience, and something I’m likely to keep doing for as long as I possibly can. It’s just great to have a chance to do this — and most importantly, to have a finished product to show for it.
Thanks all for participating, and congratulations to everyone who gave this a go!
On the flip side, we’d lost our writer mere days before. So I, our producer (and my wife) Pam, and a few of our actors all hammered out our script, finally winding up around 4:00 a.m.
A quick catnap (not to mention a much-needed shower) later and we were up and shooting bright and early Saturday morning. We hadn’t had time to work out a detailed production schedule the night before (and several of our actors — being in other shows or rehearsals — had time restrictions), so Pam ordered shots on the fly. A last-minute discovery was that a construction crew was working a few doors down from our location, but at that point it was too late to move — we just scheduled our outdoor shots for the lunch break and hoped the noise wouldn’t carry inside.
Our editor was working on-site, grabbing tapes (and the very detailed notes from our script supervisor) and putting together rough cuts of scenes right there. We finally wrapped around 8:00 p.m. — the earliest we’ve ever finished one of these shoots — and I took over shot-logging and capture so our editor could grab a quick rest. But by about midnight, we had all of our footage captured and a rough cut of everything but two complicated scenes put together.
Unfortunately, we also discovered that we had some story problems. We ran the rough cut past a couple of test audiences (okay, past some coworkers I was able to shanghai to watch it), and there was a lot about the character relationships that wasn’t coming through. So we (i.e., Pam) hammered out a quick prologue scene and sent her, our D.P., and a couple of actors out to shoot it while the editor and I kept at the cutting. Our “second unit” finished shooting by 2:00, and we folded the new scene in, color-corrected and scored the film, rendered a letterboxed version (an agonizingly slow process), and dumped it out to tape.
At 7:28 p.m. — just two minutes before the final deadline — I ran through the doors of the Warehouse Theater, two copies of Tohubohu’s official entry, “Close Quarters,” in hand. Which will screen this Friday night, May 12, at the AFI Silver Theatre, at 9:30 p.m. (tickets are available via their website, hint, hint).
All in all, an extraordinary weekend, a thrilling experience, and something I’m likely to keep doing for as long as I possibly can. It’s just great to have a chance to do this — and most importantly, to have a finished product to show for it.
Thanks all for participating, and congratulations to everyone who gave this a go!
“Close Quarters”
How was your weekend? Did you, for example, MAKE A MOVIE?
I will start at the beginning, for all those who wish to know how a group of ragtag cast and crew put together a short film in two days for the 48 Hour Film Project.
Bill (our director, not to mention my husband) and I went to the kickoff meeting at 7:00 on Friday night; Kori (who had flown in from Chicago just to participate in this) met us there. When all the teams were present, we drew our genre out of a hat (literally). Each set of teams (ten to twelve per showing) drew a unique genre from a single group — so there would be one (and only one) of each kind during the screening. Each time “Musical or Western” was drawn, everyone cheered — either in support of the poor team that drew it, or in relief that it was now out of the hat for the rest of that set’s screening. As we talked during the drawing (we were in the “H” set), we talked about how the only one that would be really hard for us was “Drama.”
So, of course we drew Drama.
The “required elements” — all of which must appear in your finished film — for the D.C. contest were: A fire extinguisher (prop); “This is absolutely the last time.” (line); Tina or Tim Tate, Gay Glass Sculptor Extrordinaire (character). The audience groaned at that last one — the character is usually a little more conventional, like a photographer or rock star. We left the facility saying “What if it is the glass that’s gay, not the character? Like, ‘Doesn’t that glass sculpture look gay to you?’” Politically incorrect, perhaps, but probably no more so than sticking a caricature up on screen. We were off and running.
The three of us went to dinner, meeting up with “Felt” to write out the story. Unfortunately, our team had lost its original writer a few days before the event, so we had to team-write it.
Writing a seven-minute drama as a team is hard.
We were joined by Nello at 11:00, and we were not nearly as far as we had hoped we would be. The five of us hashed out the story, and then the script until 4:00 in the morning. We went home to bed, only to get right back up at 7:00 to start filming at 9:00.
First problem Saturday morning: We were going to film the first scene outside, but there was loud construction going on two doors down. I made my first producer decision to film another scene inside and come back outside when the construction workers were at lunch. I walked over the construction site to confirm their lunch break. As soon as we finished that scene, I had everyone get set up outside and do run-throughs so we would be ready to go the minute the construction noise stopped. As our actors arrived, I briefed them on the scenes and background story, and I stood in for actors in scenes before they arrived. I went over their lines when they weren’t sure we were getting our point across. I made suggestions to the director about acting choices or additional lines (we were still rewriting on the fly). I kept track of which actors were arriving at what times and which actors needed to leave sooner. I made sure the sets were ready (we filmed in Felt’s townhouse and it needed some “girling up”). I kept us on schedule, making sure the actors were rehearsing their next scene while another scene was being filmed. And, of course, I did the only two jobs Bill was able to pin down for me as a producer — get the release forms signed and make sure we had lunch.
The previous paragraph was all about me (because I had expressed concern that I wouldn’t know what to do), but I don’t mean to imply that I was the only one keeping things together. Far from it. The actors were top-notch, bringing the emotion to the film that we needed from them — including some very hard... well, dramatic scenes. Our actors were incredible. Our crew was totally on the ball, knowing what we needed before we even realized that we needed it. Adam, our director of photography, had our vision in mind for every shot, and framed it all flawlessly. As we did different takes, Ginny and Katie, our script supervisors, made detailed notes, so that in editing we could just go back to the best take right away and/or incorporate excellent pieces from other takes. Larry, our editor, started logging and capturing footage the moment it was available, and even started cutting together preliminary versions of the scenes. And, of course, our director knew the vision from the start and gave the actors positive feedback and constructive suggestions to get the absolute best out of each scene.
Our long night in writing the script turned out to be a crucial investment in the filming the next day. With three of the six actors there for the writing, they knew exactly what to do when we started filming. They knew the back story. They knew the point each scene was trying to make. They had made up half the lines themselves. The actual filming, which we had thought could go late into Saturday night, was over by 8:00. The actors went home, the crew went home, and Bill went to the office to put together a rough cut of the film to have ready for the morning’s editing. As everyone left, some at different parts of the day, I was pleased and proud to hear every one of them say how much fun it was. Because it was fun. Given our limited filming time, things never seemed frantic. And while there were disagreements about dialogue, it never came to the point of real conflict. The whole thing was so calm and pleasant and fun.
On Sunday it was down to Bill and Larry to put the piece together. Oh, and add sound effects, music, credits, and a title. As Bill and I drove in, we worried that we had lost the storyline for one character (thanks to the continually evolving script) and that it might be difficult for an audience to know who everyone was. When some people turned up in Bill’s office (where we were doing the final edit) first thing that morning to actually work, we ran the film by them to get some opinions. People liked it, but weren’t nailing the relationships like we wanted them to. I suggested another scene that took place at the beginning, that would help set up the story and recreate a little of the lost storyline. Bill was afraid it was too obvious, but was willing to give it a try. So at 11:00 on Sunday morning, we scripted a new scene — that would also set up the so-far elusive title — and went out with Bjorn, Christine, and Adam to shoot it. I was now, by default, a director.
(Just as I was directing my first scene, there was a little child-care crisis. Do you think Steven Spielberg has to put up with that crap? It was resolved, thanks to some very helpful friends, allowing me to see the film through to the very end.)
We added the new scene to the beginning, amidst some controversy among the team. It was a little “on the nose,” but in the end, we decided that was better then having the audience confused at the end of the movie. We realized that in a full-length drama, you have time to subtly establish the characters and back story. But in a seven-minute drama, not so much.
After the scene was filmed, my job was mostly supportive. Checking in on the process, looking at the cuts for a second opinion, and keeping track of the time. Most important was keeping track of the time. We had said that we were going to pretend the movie was due at 7:00 so we wouldn’t have a last minute rush, but we needed every minute and did end up making a last-minute rush to get the film turned in by 7:30. We made it, with a couple minutes to spare, and toasted each other with a beer before heading home to get some rest.
This morning, as I caught my reflection in the mirror, I realized two things. One, that my left eyebrow was a little over-plucked. But two, that I was looking at the face of a real producer. And it felt good.
The film is “Close Quarters” and will be available on the Tohubohu Productions website after the screening (at the AFI Silver Theatre) on Friday, May 12th. (Of course, if you’re in the area, and would like to see it sooner, you can always come out to the premiere itself — we screen as part of the 9:30 show. The more the merrier!)
I will start at the beginning, for all those who wish to know how a group of ragtag cast and crew put together a short film in two days for the 48 Hour Film Project.
Bill (our director, not to mention my husband) and I went to the kickoff meeting at 7:00 on Friday night; Kori (who had flown in from Chicago just to participate in this) met us there. When all the teams were present, we drew our genre out of a hat (literally). Each set of teams (ten to twelve per showing) drew a unique genre from a single group — so there would be one (and only one) of each kind during the screening. Each time “Musical or Western” was drawn, everyone cheered — either in support of the poor team that drew it, or in relief that it was now out of the hat for the rest of that set’s screening. As we talked during the drawing (we were in the “H” set), we talked about how the only one that would be really hard for us was “Drama.”
So, of course we drew Drama.
The “required elements” — all of which must appear in your finished film — for the D.C. contest were: A fire extinguisher (prop); “This is absolutely the last time.” (line); Tina or Tim Tate, Gay Glass Sculptor Extrordinaire (character). The audience groaned at that last one — the character is usually a little more conventional, like a photographer or rock star. We left the facility saying “What if it is the glass that’s gay, not the character? Like, ‘Doesn’t that glass sculpture look gay to you?’” Politically incorrect, perhaps, but probably no more so than sticking a caricature up on screen. We were off and running.
The three of us went to dinner, meeting up with “Felt” to write out the story. Unfortunately, our team had lost its original writer a few days before the event, so we had to team-write it.
Writing a seven-minute drama as a team is hard.
We were joined by Nello at 11:00, and we were not nearly as far as we had hoped we would be. The five of us hashed out the story, and then the script until 4:00 in the morning. We went home to bed, only to get right back up at 7:00 to start filming at 9:00.
First problem Saturday morning: We were going to film the first scene outside, but there was loud construction going on two doors down. I made my first producer decision to film another scene inside and come back outside when the construction workers were at lunch. I walked over the construction site to confirm their lunch break. As soon as we finished that scene, I had everyone get set up outside and do run-throughs so we would be ready to go the minute the construction noise stopped. As our actors arrived, I briefed them on the scenes and background story, and I stood in for actors in scenes before they arrived. I went over their lines when they weren’t sure we were getting our point across. I made suggestions to the director about acting choices or additional lines (we were still rewriting on the fly). I kept track of which actors were arriving at what times and which actors needed to leave sooner. I made sure the sets were ready (we filmed in Felt’s townhouse and it needed some “girling up”). I kept us on schedule, making sure the actors were rehearsing their next scene while another scene was being filmed. And, of course, I did the only two jobs Bill was able to pin down for me as a producer — get the release forms signed and make sure we had lunch.
The previous paragraph was all about me (because I had expressed concern that I wouldn’t know what to do), but I don’t mean to imply that I was the only one keeping things together. Far from it. The actors were top-notch, bringing the emotion to the film that we needed from them — including some very hard... well, dramatic scenes. Our actors were incredible. Our crew was totally on the ball, knowing what we needed before we even realized that we needed it. Adam, our director of photography, had our vision in mind for every shot, and framed it all flawlessly. As we did different takes, Ginny and Katie, our script supervisors, made detailed notes, so that in editing we could just go back to the best take right away and/or incorporate excellent pieces from other takes. Larry, our editor, started logging and capturing footage the moment it was available, and even started cutting together preliminary versions of the scenes. And, of course, our director knew the vision from the start and gave the actors positive feedback and constructive suggestions to get the absolute best out of each scene.
Our long night in writing the script turned out to be a crucial investment in the filming the next day. With three of the six actors there for the writing, they knew exactly what to do when we started filming. They knew the back story. They knew the point each scene was trying to make. They had made up half the lines themselves. The actual filming, which we had thought could go late into Saturday night, was over by 8:00. The actors went home, the crew went home, and Bill went to the office to put together a rough cut of the film to have ready for the morning’s editing. As everyone left, some at different parts of the day, I was pleased and proud to hear every one of them say how much fun it was. Because it was fun. Given our limited filming time, things never seemed frantic. And while there were disagreements about dialogue, it never came to the point of real conflict. The whole thing was so calm and pleasant and fun.
On Sunday it was down to Bill and Larry to put the piece together. Oh, and add sound effects, music, credits, and a title. As Bill and I drove in, we worried that we had lost the storyline for one character (thanks to the continually evolving script) and that it might be difficult for an audience to know who everyone was. When some people turned up in Bill’s office (where we were doing the final edit) first thing that morning to actually work, we ran the film by them to get some opinions. People liked it, but weren’t nailing the relationships like we wanted them to. I suggested another scene that took place at the beginning, that would help set up the story and recreate a little of the lost storyline. Bill was afraid it was too obvious, but was willing to give it a try. So at 11:00 on Sunday morning, we scripted a new scene — that would also set up the so-far elusive title — and went out with Bjorn, Christine, and Adam to shoot it. I was now, by default, a director.
(Just as I was directing my first scene, there was a little child-care crisis. Do you think Steven Spielberg has to put up with that crap? It was resolved, thanks to some very helpful friends, allowing me to see the film through to the very end.)
We added the new scene to the beginning, amidst some controversy among the team. It was a little “on the nose,” but in the end, we decided that was better then having the audience confused at the end of the movie. We realized that in a full-length drama, you have time to subtly establish the characters and back story. But in a seven-minute drama, not so much.
After the scene was filmed, my job was mostly supportive. Checking in on the process, looking at the cuts for a second opinion, and keeping track of the time. Most important was keeping track of the time. We had said that we were going to pretend the movie was due at 7:00 so we wouldn’t have a last minute rush, but we needed every minute and did end up making a last-minute rush to get the film turned in by 7:30. We made it, with a couple minutes to spare, and toasted each other with a beer before heading home to get some rest.
This morning, as I caught my reflection in the mirror, I realized two things. One, that my left eyebrow was a little over-plucked. But two, that I was looking at the face of a real producer. And it felt good.
The film is “Close Quarters” and will be available on the Tohubohu Productions website after the screening (at the AFI Silver Theatre) on Friday, May 12th. (Of course, if you’re in the area, and would like to see it sooner, you can always come out to the premiere itself — we screen as part of the 9:30 show. The more the merrier!)
Monday, May 01, 2006
Your Mission, Should You Choose to Accept It...
This’ll be the third year that Tohubohu Productions will be entering the competition, and I think we’ve really got it down to a science now. Oh, we’re far from ready to roll (especially since I’ve got to fly out to Monterey for a video shoot on Thursday), but things are starting to gel.
This time around, my wife Pam, of MotherReader fame, will be stepping in to produce as I take the directorial reins for the first time since last year’s “The Big Lie (That Solves Everything).” We’ve got a strong roster of support folks (both cast and crew), and I am really excited about what we’re going to be able to do. I had hoped to have another podcast episode (available now in regular or iTunes varieties) ready before the big event, but as I mentioned, I’m going to have to fly out to Monterey for a video shoot on the day before the event. On the other side of the friggin’ country. I’ll be shooting all day Thursday, then hopping on a redeye that night to make it back in time to do all of our last-minute prep for Friday’s big kick-off.
My thinking is that if I can just sleep on the plane (I figure three Scotches ought to do it), then my circadian rhythms will be all messed up and actually be completely in sync with the production schedule.
Our official premiere screening will be at the AFI Silver Theater on Friday, May 12, at 9:15 p.m. And sure enough, I may be stuck at a video shoot in Kalamazoo, Michigan, but I’m still doing everything in my power to get back in time (or make somebody else go on the shoot).
For those of you who aren’t familiar with the contest... I’ll direct you over to the official site for the specifics; I don’t have time to explain it all (again) here. But as for this weekend’s schedule from our perspective, here’s the (basic) rundown.
The kickoff event is Friday evening, from 6:00 until 7:00. A representative or two from each team heads over to the Warehouse Theater, finalizes registration, and draws a film genre out of a hat (literally). Then the event producers draw a character, a prop and a line of dialogue for the entire group (they’ve got 100 teams in the competition this year). Then, at 7:00, we’re off.
Friday night is reserved for the writing and scheduling groups. The first time we did this, we thought that’d be a great excuse to have the whole team get together, but boy was that a mistake. Efficient scriptwriting dictates that we keep that group as small as possible. We write until the wee hours, then email everyone with the script (or at least a synopsis thereof) and Saturday’s call times (we plan to start the first-shot crew call at around 8:00 or so, with an eye towards shooting by 9:00... or, to be completely honest, closer to 10:00).
Saturday is our big shooting day. And it’s a loooong day. We’ll be based in the city, but depending on our shooting needs, we may be venturing out into suburbia. It’s basically a whole lot of sitting around and doing nothing punctuated by brief moments of frenetic activity.
Sunday may see a couple of pickup or second-unit shots, but for the most part, this day will be dedicated to editing, cleanup, and output. If we were... fortunate enough to draw the dreaded “musical,” then we'll likely be working up until the last possible minute recording music and cutting it into the picture. And then we dump the whole thing out to tape and race like mad across town back to the Warehouse Theater for the official dropoff. They usually have a little happy hour (attended by a bunch of people who look like the Red Bull-enhanced zombies that they are), and then it’s off to bed.
Sound simple? On paper, maybe.
We’re still looking for a sound mixer and an editing assistant, so on the off chance that anyone reading this knows a good candidate, let me know. Otherwise, let the countdown begin...
This time around, my wife Pam, of MotherReader fame, will be stepping in to produce as I take the directorial reins for the first time since last year’s “The Big Lie (That Solves Everything).” We’ve got a strong roster of support folks (both cast and crew), and I am really excited about what we’re going to be able to do. I had hoped to have another podcast episode (available now in regular or iTunes varieties) ready before the big event, but as I mentioned, I’m going to have to fly out to Monterey for a video shoot on the day before the event. On the other side of the friggin’ country. I’ll be shooting all day Thursday, then hopping on a redeye that night to make it back in time to do all of our last-minute prep for Friday’s big kick-off.
My thinking is that if I can just sleep on the plane (I figure three Scotches ought to do it), then my circadian rhythms will be all messed up and actually be completely in sync with the production schedule.
Our official premiere screening will be at the AFI Silver Theater on Friday, May 12, at 9:15 p.m. And sure enough, I may be stuck at a video shoot in Kalamazoo, Michigan, but I’m still doing everything in my power to get back in time (or make somebody else go on the shoot).
For those of you who aren’t familiar with the contest... I’ll direct you over to the official site for the specifics; I don’t have time to explain it all (again) here. But as for this weekend’s schedule from our perspective, here’s the (basic) rundown.
The kickoff event is Friday evening, from 6:00 until 7:00. A representative or two from each team heads over to the Warehouse Theater, finalizes registration, and draws a film genre out of a hat (literally). Then the event producers draw a character, a prop and a line of dialogue for the entire group (they’ve got 100 teams in the competition this year). Then, at 7:00, we’re off.
Friday night is reserved for the writing and scheduling groups. The first time we did this, we thought that’d be a great excuse to have the whole team get together, but boy was that a mistake. Efficient scriptwriting dictates that we keep that group as small as possible. We write until the wee hours, then email everyone with the script (or at least a synopsis thereof) and Saturday’s call times (we plan to start the first-shot crew call at around 8:00 or so, with an eye towards shooting by 9:00... or, to be completely honest, closer to 10:00).
Saturday is our big shooting day. And it’s a loooong day. We’ll be based in the city, but depending on our shooting needs, we may be venturing out into suburbia. It’s basically a whole lot of sitting around and doing nothing punctuated by brief moments of frenetic activity.
Sunday may see a couple of pickup or second-unit shots, but for the most part, this day will be dedicated to editing, cleanup, and output. If we were... fortunate enough to draw the dreaded “musical,” then we'll likely be working up until the last possible minute recording music and cutting it into the picture. And then we dump the whole thing out to tape and race like mad across town back to the Warehouse Theater for the official dropoff. They usually have a little happy hour (attended by a bunch of people who look like the Red Bull-enhanced zombies that they are), and then it’s off to bed.
Sound simple? On paper, maybe.
We’re still looking for a sound mixer and an editing assistant, so on the off chance that anyone reading this knows a good candidate, let me know. Otherwise, let the countdown begin...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)