Category: Scriptwriting

I really should be in bed. I’ve got to be up and about in seven hours. This is rather irresponsible.

Despite a slow start to the day due to the late arrival of camera gear, we met our day with an hour to spare.  Back-slaps and handshakes abounded.  There was no shouting, no kicking of actors, no beatings of assistants.  Today, I believe, was a Good Day.

On-set workflow was set up by the very capable (and available only for one day) Mr Heron the Camera Assist.  Once we’d wrapped for the day, I took the footage (external hard-drive, actually), and passed it under the very discerning eyes of our post-production consultant who pronounced it “useable”.  Post-production workflow, courtesy of the choice of camera, is also under control.

In short:  the chances of a finished film making it out to those hardy souls who watch short films, have increased that little bit more.  (As per my last post:  if a no-budget feature crashes after shooting wraps, who truly sees it?  No one.)

Onwards to Day Two.

One sleep. Don’t know if it’ll be fitful like the last few. Hope not. Maybe. Probably.

Mr Power had to gently talk me down from an incipient nervous breakdown earlier in the day (“Don’t be ridiculous”) (it was better than “Don’t be a drama queen” ’cause I would’ve clocked him) (not that I’ve anything ag-,… never mind). He’s a good man.

I thought today would be relatively cruisey but an assistant who became unavailable meant a whole lot of scrambling during the day. A nice reminder of how truly collaborative filmmaking is – regardless of how ‘low’ one’s job might be, everyone is essential.

Not all wrinkles had been ironed out when I last saw Mr Power late this afternoon but I’m not going to worry about it any more. He’ll sort things out. ‘S what a good producer does.

Noddy time.

(I don’t know if I’ll have the energy to blog during the shoot. If things go quiet, you’ll certainly know why. If I continue blogging, don’t tell the cast and crew – I should be prepping for the next day.)

Holy crap. Two days to go – not even that: a mere two sleeps. Oh dear.

Mr Power the producer is on the case working through all the things I’m unable to do, or have run out of time to do, or am too chicken to do, or that are his job anyway.

Crew?  Check.

Schedule?  Being finalised.

Script?  Which version we talking here?  Production, shooting, or a revised version of either?  Let’s say… in progress.  Any minute now.

Gear?  Audio – check.  Video – arrives in town tomorrow for check, prep and test by Mr Meikle‘s minion.

Cast?  Check.

Reluctant multi-hyphenate?  Dreading every minute of pre-prod.  But knowing how essential it is to a reasonably drama-free shoot.  Oscillating wildly from little-boy excitement to full-blown terror.

This will end.  In two sleeps plus five shoot days.

And then there will be post.

Storyboardingstoryboardingstoryboarding.<

I strongly suspect this is something I should’ve done, like, ages ago.  After yesterday’s technical recce, I think Mr Forster noticed how much I kept deferring to Mr Meikle and recommended I do some.  Sure, I’d blocked some of the action with the actors during the workshops, but I’d avoided thinking about angles and coverage and owing reverses.  ‘S what a DOP does, innit?  (I think it’s what a continuity person does – and it’s a role we can’t afford on this film.)

So I’m storyboarding.  This is the most drawing I’ve done in years.  Trying to relax and not over-focus on heads being in proportion to bodies.  Trying not to freak out over perspective.

The important thing about storyboards is the time they save.  Instead of waving your hands about and trying to describe a camera move you want to steal from a favourite De Palma film, just a couple of chicken scratchings reasonably clear and simple pictures puts everyone literally on the same page at the same time.

Until that cathartic moment, I’m storyboarding.  And grateful for the practice, decades ago, of countless pictures of alien invaders being greeted by human soldiers backed up by tanks, jet fighters and a death star.

This is the spirit: five adult males squeeze into a family station-wagon and travel the general Auckland area on a technical recce.  (Reality check:  it wasn’t always five, mostly it was four; and by ‘general Auckland area’ I mean from Mangere Bridge to Grey Lynn and some in between.)

You know those pics they show of directors squinting through a viewfinder?  Got introduced to one today.  They’re called a ‘chewey’ (phonetic – no idea how they spell it normally) (best guess from the pros on its etymology was that it helps the director and DP ‘choose’ lenses).  I felt rather directorly as I gingerly held it and squinted through it.

Six hours of driving and looking and talking.  But as Mr Forster pointed out, the hard yards that are put in during pre-production means less headaches, surprises and drama during actual production.  Being the lazy-arse that I am, I just wish someone else could do it on my behalf.

I don’t remember any of this kind of stuff being shown in the making-of shows of my distant youth.  You just saw the director arrive on set in a supercar, given a coffee as he strolled to the set-up where everyone’s dutifully waiting, taking his personalised seat, and yelling ‘action!’.

Maybe on the next production.

‘S late and I’m bone tired.

Two items of note today –

HODs’ MEETING – Wow.  So this is what happens when pre-prod goes the way it’s supposed to.  Our 1AD has sorted out a tentative schedule where we shoot out the cast members whose availability shrunk when the shoot dates moved.  And the various HODs got to say what they needed, find out what their fellow HODs needed, and more often than not, through the two degrees of separation because of the small industry here, provide solutions to problems, concerns or needs.  I want to hug everyone; I refrain.

WORKSHOP – Blocked some scenes with the actors.  Didn’t have time in the forty-eight hours since the reading/workshop to revise the script like I’d hoped but the blocking and workshop was just brill’.  “Ah,” I nodded to myself in whatever scene, “so that’s why she does that.”  It was nice to see the pages brought to life – even at half-energy ’cause we’re just workshopping, y’know – and to have the opportunity to shape the scenes.  And always find new things that the actors bring to the roles and the story.

Not that it was all sweetness and light.  Some scenes turned out to be exceedingly short.  Some snippets of dialogue were painfully long.

But it’s fine – I’ve got a bit of time to revise the script.  Maybe not work the revisions through with the actors before the cameras roll.  But when they’re done, they’ll be an improvement on what I think were already pretty strong bones.

Okay:  optimism is high but measured.

High because I’ll admit I’m a little bit excited by this venture.  (The moment’ll pass.)

Measured because I’ve just realised that I’m overdue to sort out post-production workflow.  We shoot in six days.  Four of those are the long Easter weekend.

I think it’s time to start delegating.

Deja vu: we’re a full week out from shoot.

Last night was a read-through with the cast, with Mr Hargreaves, Ms Oliver and Mr Forster attending. Read-throughs are always interesting. Actors will either read their lines flat, conserving their energy, or with a bit of energy to feel out whoever they’re trading lines with. For my part, I have to remember that a read-through is just that: everyone literally reading through the script out loud. It’s not the place to give notes; it’s a time to note secretly to yourself what’s dead in the script and to get a feel for how the actors are approaching their characters.

After the read-through there was a Q&A where relationships were discussed and defined. I used to dread such conversations. I used to think, I, the Writor, have conured these words to come out of the mouths of yon characters, and they are what they are. Actors need more than that. As do the production designer (“What sort of vibe do you want in this location?”), the cinematographer (“How do you want to pace this scene?”) and so on.

Sure, it’s fun to quote Harrison Ford‘s “acting school of ‘let’s pretend'” and write actors off as a bunch of high-maintenance nonces but remember that they’re not just your mouth-piece – nor are they some Hitchcockian puppet who must respect your authoritah.

They’re a fellow collaborator.

Treat and direct ’em right, and they’ll make you look good.

Enough pre-prod avoidance. Kirk out.

Yes, campers, you read that right:  we’ve been pushed back two days.

Ah the joys of low-budget film-making.  Better than no-budget film-making.

But, barring -, actually, better not tempt fate.

CAMERA – Mr Meikle is calling in favours and yea, we have vision.  (This gig was to repay a moral debt I owe him; this isn’t quite working out the way I’d intended.)  Just need to confirm that the flesh-puppets actors are still good for the adjusted dates.

AUDIO – Mr Rea had difficulty sourcing an assistant so I offered to grovel to my alma mater.  Gerben Cath very generously listened and has offered to help.

CAST – I was hoping to confirm all five cast members but it’s looking a bit iffy with that damned schedule.  I won’t invite bad juju by invoking the last cast-member’s name.  Not that I’m superstitious or anything.

With the schedule being put back and the amount of pre-prod being ploughed through this week, I’ve even had thoughts of mowing the lawns this long weekend.

Whoa, tiger, go easy, boy.

(No idea if I’ve got the right lingo but this diary’s gonna be cheap and nasty.)

Pre-pre-prod has been ramping up the last couple of weeks.  Fighting over budgets.  Okay, squabbling.  No, fighting.

Whatever, the budget has been stretched as much as it can be.  I thought it was already stretched but it’s amazing where you can find savings.  And still pay people.  And feed them.

Actors – check.

Heads of department – check.

Schedule – in progress, virtually a check.

… Okay.  Camera has been unable to source camera gear.  It looks like shifting the schedule back one day.  I can deal with a day’s delay.  I hope and pray the cast and crew (excluding camera, of course) can handle the delay, too.

It’ll be fine.  I keep telling myself that:  it’ll be fine. It’ll be fine.