Film as Prayer

So it's over, officially, except for a few days' work in the office, starting tomorrow. Sigh.

Last night's wrap party was wonderful, if a bit of a blur. Some people seemed rather shy at times around each other, out of the work setting, without fifty coats and hats on, in a gorgeous mansion on Capitol Hill (courtesy of our very kind Executive Producers). But they had a cake with Bessie the cow on it (from a digital picture I took and gave to Chris), and they showed about 8 minutes of the movie, which I can't believe they have edited by now, as it took me much longer than Rob has had to do my 10-minute short. But then, it's Rob the Genius that we are talking about. He amazes me.

If the trailer they showed is anything to judge by, we have a movie on our hands. According to Tamia, it is a rare thing for crew to see footage this soon; it was a huge gift from Rick and Rob. And Rick lost his day's sleep to do it, and to do the Camp Fair.

Huge relief.

I saw Crystal and Robert at the party, which was a lovely thing, to have my two worlds cross like that. They caught me up on the SCA news. I have really been out of touch in Film World. Gerard said on the last night that a film is a great place to hide out, and he's right. All the emotions and aches that I haven't had time to feel are beginning to come up. I expect the cleanse will take awhile. It has been a lonely time.

Wonderful Angie gave me several amazing compliments, saying that I had had a good attitude throughout (wow), and that she had been amazed at how I had stuck it out through some very tough times, and through some very tough people. I was deeply honored by her sincere blessing. Coming from her it meant the world to me, as she is a consummate professional. She said that she does two or three of these a year, tops. It's all the energy that she has to give - and she is young! The rest, I assume, is commercials and shorts.

I slept ten hours, and now begins the cleanup of my life and body and two piled desks (I spilled over onto the dining room table and have owned it for 8 weeks!). But maybe not just yet. I feel very tender, and flared up with fibro - the last push with almost no sleep really did a number on me. Theo wants to go to the zoo, and I am debating whether to go, or just to go back to bed.

And now I have to revise the two screenplays that I want to show Rick. Stewart is looking forward to seeing them too.

But in a day or so.

I need to do very little for awhile.

Saturday Feb. 12, 2005

Well, we did it. We wrapped last night. It’s over, except for the paperwork, cleanup and editing (not my job, alas).

I am astonished that I made it through, as you might well imagine, if you’ve been reading this (bless you!). I knew it would be rough going in, I mean, I’ve heard the stories, just as you must have. Filmmaking is a rough business, body-wise. But if I didn’t believe in miracles before, I really do now. The miracle is that I am sitting here (marginally) upright today, after 90 minutes of sleep, at this Camp Fair, passing out brochures for Prodigy Camp. Incredible.

We all rejoiced exceedingly at wrap, with much cheering and relief and mimosas for breakfast as the rain came down, at 5-ish this morning. I was home by six, in bed by 6:30, and shaken awake by Terry before 8, having turned off the alarm and fallen back asleep. Boogied out to Bellevue and set up the booth with Rick’s surprisingly non-bleary help. We were joined by Stewart, and we spent a companionable few hours, watching Stewart charm every kid in the room (he brought his Emmy for them to hold!), and Rick charm their mothers, before Rick went off to edit and Stewart went to a birthday. Here I sit, typing to try to stay awake.

So . . . the last few days have been exciting, surreal, more exhausting than I can describe, and a very great privilege. The stuff we have been getting has really been fabulous. I would be very happy if I were Rick. He has done the impossible: created what I believe will be a major motion picture on a "shoestring" budget. What an honor to be a part of such an effort.

It's all about Rick. His talent, heart, and spirit has attracted the best of the best, IMHO.

I mean, when we all were about to freak out from stress or cold or exhaution or the danger of losing our minds, there was Rick; centered, generous, open, and believing for the best in everyone, at all times, no matter his personal discomfort or stress. On the last night, there was some wierdness for awhile that held everything up, for a very long time. He kept his cool, and lovingly handled everything that came up. Even when the Generator started throwing sparks and we had to shut it off right before an important shot. Even when the milkmen got testy at the long delays (again!!). Even when it started raining toward the end of the night. Even when our equipment was freezing, and there were two units running at the same time (oh what fun for me - Matthew said "I need you to stay on top of all these inserts and make sure they get done tonight" - ack!). even when we got extremely punchy toward dawn . . . He was Saintly Director.

What a guy. He got it done. Mostly on the force of who he is as a person. Generous and unperturbable (well except very occasionally a mild comment or two, but that's usually private, and never angry.).

Everyone has been needing my reports, my script, my notes, on the last two days, to be sure we are up to speed. It has been a little intimidating. But I have made some good saves, and some good continuity calls - yay! Rick has very publicly thanked me a few times in the last few days for things I have caught, with coats, glasses, war paint, car things, watches, etc. I missed the tanker truck ruts, but Tamia-from-God caught it. She and Angie and Sarah - what a beautiful team of camera babes. The camera department is all OVER it. And so are Gerard and Ron, wardrobe stars, thank God. The art department and I have shared a few blunders, but all in all we have rocked.

Phew. Toughest job I have ever survived. And I am very aware that it is because of the grace of God and the prayers of my beloveds.

So, THANK YOU!!!!!!!!!! We made it!

Wrap party tonight (I may try to sleep if I can for an hour beforehand, which might actually be worse than no sleep at all . . .). Hoping to see some cut footage.

Life is good.

We made a movie.

I can't quite believe it.

Heading off for work after 8-9 hrs sleep and reports, still absolutely wrecked, temps in the teens both of the last nights, frost on everything, equipment not working because of cold, batteries sucked dry . . . surreal "moonlight" from the Condor . . . everyone with frozen toes, fingers, noses, huddling at the propane heater at Craftie when possible . . . I got there only once . . . living on tea . . . Charlie's dance of death was glorious, glorious, perfect. The drumming, the chant, the sage, and the incredible beauty of Robert dancing in the face of his destruction . . . he has trained for a month for that moment, and he pulled several muscles in the process, but he kept gamely dancing on, just like his character. I love that kid!

Frozen actors, frozen crew, all cold. Rick sat down only twice the whole night, last night, too cold and wired. We spent the night in what they call the (sorry for delicate ears) "Shit Pit", which is a football-field-sized place into which they dump the manure. They emptied it and put a thin layer of shaving over it, and that's where we shot everything last night. The stench was incredible.

Only one diva-like person, the rest totally mensch-like and wonderful. Trying to crack jokes to stay sane. I lost it about 1 or 2 a.m. (call was at 4:30pm yesterday) and started crying, all hunched over by the monitor, utterly miserable, then went for a keep-warm stamping walk to hide it. Nobody saw.

Only one more night and a day of Prodigy Camp pitching to the parents nd kids at the Saint Thomas Camp Fair. Then I can sleep.

I am not really safe to drive. But I'd better get on the road, as call is at 5:30pm, and traffic is miserable, according to the internet.

. . .from two nights at the dairy and very little time for turnaround, plus doing Prodigy Camp stuff . . . sick, no brain, subzero temps at night . . . two more nights . . . last night I didn't think I would make it . . . almost falling asleep driving home at 4: 30 a.m. . . . Lord, have mercy . . .

I wanted to adopt every kitty in the pund, and so did Sascha the Animal Lover . . .

Yesterday, Monday Feb. 7, we worked out at Shilshole and Golden Gardens, which was utterly glorious. The sun, the mountains, the Sound, the subzero teperatures . . . yes it was cold. But lovely.

We did the boating sequences, and the running-along-the-beach-p ursued sequences, and the Inside the Box and Green-screen sequences. Many takes on a couple, somewhat frustrating when it's at Magic Hour, very tense. But all in all a great day.

Someone came up and asked if I would consider Script Supervising on her movie which films in March. Kind of nice.

Must prepare for work. Night Work tonight, at the Dog Pound; dreading it. I am SO allergic to dogs!!!

I think it's Night Work for the rest of the shoot. Gack!

It's Sunday, and I slept muchly yesterday and today, with many-hour afternoon naps, and I still am exhausted and sinus-y. As are many of us. As are Terry and Tallis, and Pam, and their whole cast for "Enemy of the People". It is a tough time of year. Ugh. I need energy for the final push.

Friday was our first "Night Work" day. In typical film parlance, as we arrived in the cow pasture at Smith Brothers Dairies at 3:30 p.m., we were greeted by the P.A.'s with "Good morning". Because it was our morning. We got set up in the windstorm. The grips, who flew the Condor (Genie Lift/Cherry Picker) to give us light after dark, were wondering if it would go up in the gale. But it did, as the worst of the wind died down after dark, which helped a bit with the freezing wind chill. But then the temperature dropped about ten degrees. We all froze, all night, and I felt sorry for the actors when they had their warming coats off. And the poor milkmen . . . very cold.

We did two lovely "Magic Hour" shots on the road, then moved onto the muddy cow pasture for the Milkmen vs. Wild William scene. There were some . . . uh . . . little challenges with props. The C02 cartridge died in the paint ball rifle, and a bucket of smoke bombs went off all at once in a cloud of sulphur when a spark landed in it. And the milk trucks slid down the muddy hills and got mired. But STILL, the footage looked great. And the great miracle was that the rain of the morning held back all night, even though there was lightning in the hills, until we were loading the trucks at 4:30 a.m. Then it rained. Pretty sweet!

I managed it, though it was very hard, particularly toward morning. Total exhaustion.

Terry and Tallis and Pam were great in the "Enemy" opening, which Robert and Robin came to see, bless them. Robert had a photo shoot all day today, Sunday, so he rested in the hotel all Saturday. Wise.

Tomorrow we shoot out at Shilshole, on the piers, and then the interior of the refrigerator box. Praying it won't rain. It rained wildly all morning today.

“Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.” (John 14:27, NIV).


Loving God,

We come to you today with hearts full of praise and thanksgiving because of your love. We especially thank you today that you are a God of Peace. We rejoice knowing that you will give us peace that passes all understanding, regardless of our circumstances. We pray today that your peace would overtake every worry, concern, and fear that we are dealing with. We also ask that your spirit of peace would rest on the movie team; the cast, the crew, and those who pray for us; our larger family. We ask that you would replace every anxiety that arises with your spirit of peace. We thank you that, when we walk in your anointing, you will break the power of every weapon that is formed against us. We thank you that we are safe, and that as we rest in the plans you have for us, our hearts and minds will be at perfect peace.

In Jesus’ name,
Amen


Wow. I really need to pray that today, and I think many of us do. Yesterday was long, intense, and wonderful. But today it is raining and we are back outside, and we are starting night shoots at the dairy. We need this prayer. I need this prayer. I just spent an hour in the bathroom, trying to help my sinuses. I did nasal irrigation (ow) with the Neti pot, then a long hot shower with the spray over my sinuses, then another nasal irrigation (better). I was so tired last night that I forgot to do it, and am paying for it, a bit, this morning.

Yesterday we wrapped the Alibi Room location with some astonishing work from our stars, Robert and Sascha, in their final Alibi Room scene, the one at the end of the movie. Also we wrapped Jill, the lovely, hilarious, and brilliant actress from L.A., and Ben and Brandon, the delightful actors in the café (we still have two more scenes with David out at the dairy tonight). I have learned so much from watching all these dedicated and talented people do their art. They have wonderful suggestions for the scenes, which Rick takes in an open spirit of collaboration. It is not a dictatorship, ever, with him. He directs in a loving, respectful, and harmonious way. He doesn't often direct quite like I do, or like many other stage directors I have known well. He sometimes appears to give a "quality" instead of an objective, but I think it may just be semantics, because he gets the results. His intimate knowledge of cinematography, and his enormous talent for making stunning pictures, means that he shows the actors in the most enlivening setups possible. This movie is a poem. When he is stressed to the max, like he has been before every lunch, as the time gets short and there is more and more of what he calls "futsing", so that he has ten miniutes to do his work -- it's infuritating. He starts saying "Matthew . . . Must shoot! Must shoot!" He tries so hard not to go late for lunch, or go late at the end of the day. But stuff happens. Often a battery needs changing RIGHT before it's time, or some other snafu arises. Agh.

But he handles it with grace and generosity. Always. When he has gotten upset with me for blowing some continuity thing, he has done it with restraint, and then, as Ben said to me yesterday "It's forgotten." Twice now he has gotten on my case for not having my script right there, but I always have my sides in my clipboard. Last night I cued an actor who went up right on time, for example. I think he wants to see the script in my hands, always, but that's difficult with fibromylagia, and with the timecode-generating clipboard, the Script Boy. Sigh.

I have fear about tonight. It sounds miserable, and I, like many of us, am not physically up to par. I woke at 9am after 9 hours of sleep, and it wasn't enough. It's 11 now. Now I have to do my reports and Continuity photos, though I long for a nap. And get out to set by three, so we can set up for darkness at 4.

And then we will shoot all night, and sleep Saturday day, so that I have to do all my Prodigy Camp stuff on Sunday. No rest this week. The Camp Fairs are in a week, and I have to be there, and create all the setup stuff before then. AGH!!!!!!

And Terry and Tallis and Pam and Scott open their show tonight. So I have to do Opening Night presents.

Help . . .

I will very much miss shooting in the Pike Place Market. Several times at lunch, or during long re-lights, I have wandered up from Post Alley into the market itself. The other day I got some Market Spice tea, and a Sweatshirt for Rick that says "One Last Time" (what he always says on multiple takes, multiple times!) and a t-shirt that says "I Heart Road-Kill" (tee hee). And yesterday I was walking by a fruit seller, and he offered me a slice of a lovely green-colored pear, and I ate it, and it was like nectar. So I bought three with my last cash, and had two for breakfast just now.

Tonight it will be . . . muddier. Sigh.

Just got home, 18 hours after I left, with several hours of reports due now before bed. It's 11 p.m. Work starts tomorrow at 9:30. I can't believe I will get this little sleep.

A wonderful day with talented people doing brilliant things, but I am destroyed.

So is our lead actor, Robert. Since he is a man of faith, I could counsel him about the God thing - how when you have nothing left, when you are worn down past the nub stage and are on fumes, that is when the Holy Spirit will flow through you and completely do it. He couldn't believe me this morning, but tonight he came up and said, with amazement and humble joy, that I was right, is is actually better when there is nothing left.

I said yes, then we know it's all God.

I really need some of that now. I ache all over and have no more brain. Really blew it tonight too by not having my kit with me, since Matthew had banished it to the basement, and I had no script when an actor dropped a line. Rick said "having the script ready is WAY more important than all those numbers!" And of course it is. But he may not think that in the editing room.

If only the scene had been in the sides . . .

I enjoy Brandon, Ben, David, and today's lovely ladies too, Jill and the College Girl. Very funny folks. A good day, artistically.

Except for the time, at the end of the day, when Chris came running up to me "Did he have a coffee cup in his hand in the first shot of the day?" And because I am not supposed to take Polaroids, no budget, according to John (though I have bought the film already!!!), I didn't have one ready. I have to try to remember. And four people backed me up, so I think we're good. But I don't know about this job . . . I don't know that I will be doing it again. Too difficult.

Good talk with Ben about autism (he has a sib on the spectrum), and about Shakespeare stuff with David (I asked him if he's ever played The Thane, only I used the real name, and he made me go outside and spin, spit, and ask to come in!). He was seriously superstitious. He said someone said The Name on "Firestarter", and the ritual wasn't done, and bad things occurred.

Grist for my mill . . .

Terry and Tallis open their Ibsen play "enemy of the People" at Taproot in two days, and Terry is going to the trouble of making me raw food each day so I have something healthy . . . and he still has his two-week cold . . . Ia called him today to thank him for all the efforet to keep me fed, and told him it made me feel very loved. He was about to take a nap, and I had a huge pang of jealosy. Sleep . . . must stop this and do reports so I get a few hours. Very punchy today.

1:30 a.m. finally done with reports. . . how can I do this for another week and a half? I broke down in tears of frustration several times trying to do the math . . . eyes all jumpy from exhaustion . . . please, God let me get some sleep . . .

out the door to work, and this time Terry can't "ghost-dictate" for me, so briefly, I have the company cold. In spades. Yesterday morning I was utterly miserable. But it got better as the day went on (and as I dosed it with every natural remedy known to woman!). And the Neti Pot has been helping, a lot.

Still, any spare prayers . . .

King 5 News came down and taped the shoot for an hour in the Market, for a few exteriors, and it was a nice story on the news which Pam taped (yay) so I got to see it this morning. Nice Rick interview.

Tom came to set for a very funny scene to do a silly uncredited cameo, and that will be fun for the film buffs. He came over and gave me a big hug and double-cheek kiss, and he does every time he comes to set. What a lovely man. He SO rocks!

Hilarious scenes yesterday in the Alibi. David and Ben and Brandon cracked us up again and again. What a joy to have such experienced and wonderful actors to help us out.

Energy started to majorly die toward the end of the day. I managed to resist the Second Meal pizza, but that was the only thing I resisted all day, got into the corn chips from lunch, all afternoon. Weight Watchers . . . see ya in two weeks!

Here I go off to commit more art. Thank God it's not raining!