- DAY 11: 4-19-13
Goodbye to the comfortable womb that was our Jackson Avenue Board of Trade Offices. Goodbye to the entire second floor we were living in for a full month, to the hundred $200 buck mesh biz chairs, the snack room, and to the rat that ate director Boris Wexler’s box of chocolates. Haven’t mentioned our unofficial mascot previously but yes, we did have an intrudor on set for the last month. There was a rat and rumors of a rat spreading during our downtown filming. There were sightings, uncomfirmed…in the makeup department, in wardrobe, hither and thither, shadows seen. He was a big fucker, word had it. Who knows, maybe he just wanted in on the catering. No Mickey D’s on this shoot!
We transitioned this week, from rat to mouse. Caged. The name of Allen was given to our brown-spotted, four-legged marsupial by a Kickstarter doner. $750 and you get to name Falcon’s pet mouse. He was happier than the proverbial pig-in-shit, being fed grapes half the size of his body, pieces of a fruit bar and some caffeinated energy drinks by adoring crew. He was also a party mouse, fully awake all the way until 4 a.m. when we wrapped today’s shoot.
Our new digs this weekend were Falcon’s apartment. Great location, spacious two-bedroom, two-bath Chicago apartment graciously donated to our micro-budget operation. Thanks to EVERYONE who donated space to help us. Just another piece of the good vibes happening for this movie—just seems like it came together, in this case, at the last minute. Our great location manager (—-) came upon this cool, brick-walled apartment and got the owner’s approval at the very end of our search.
With the killing and blood-spilling done last week, this week’s scenes are primarily to do with Falcon (Rush Pearson). Dialogue scenes kicking in. No Woody Allen-style monologues but two or three emotional speeches for both Falcon and Annie (Marielle de Serra Rocca). Falcon talks about what it was like to lose function in his eyes, and shortly after, to lose touch with his daughter Mary Rose. Annie talks about the loss of a loved bird, and relations with her alcoholic mother. No guns this week, just intensity of our lead actors on display.
This is a movie that unfolds through computer screens. Themes of disconnection and isolation play out behind the filters of internet chat cameras. Our director (Boris Wexler) was challenged early trying to dream up not just how this would look, but how it would be filmed. When two folks are having a conversation via computer how would we, with limited resources, practically film that? Two weeks ago Boris filmed the Mary Rose scenes in her downtown chat room. You film her side of things, speaking into the computer that will be Falcon. This week we film the other side of it, actually tying in the shot Mary Rose scenes into Falcon’s computer so when Rush does the scene he’s actually talking to Mary Rose—or so it appears. The actress playing Mary Rose isn’t even on set (Caitlin Collins). Nor are the pair of other actresses who previously shot scenes and who are replayed live for Rush and Annie to play against tonight. Hitchcock teaches that movie-making is the juxtaposition of images for manipulated effect. It’s also about pure illusion and we do our share here, making it appear that Falcon is talking to Mary Rose online, live.
- · DAY 12 4-20-13
Saturday night in Boys Town! Just because we said goodbye to the Jackson Avenue sax guy who pretty much haunted us every day of our downtown shoot, doesn’t mean we don’t have some sound issues up here in Wrigleyville. Lots of happy folks letting out of the bars around 2am, exactly the time when we’re filming the most intense dialogue scenes between Annie and Falcon.
The layout of this apartment is ample, for two people. We have a nightly crew of 25! Attempting to find a space you can call your own, a few of us are sent out onto the porch deck where—Chicago being Chicago—it’s freaking 39 degrees on April 20! I mean, c’mon! This is why people just LEAVE TOWN. Some folks also hang in the hallway but we’re cognizant that this is someone else’s home and that the neighbors might not be quite as enthused as we are about making a movie at 3 a.m.
We’re running two cameras on Annie’s big monologue scene. Annie is a tough character and Marielle has kept a leash on obvious emotions the entire shoot. This may be the one moment where the character shows some vulnerability, something that we’ve got to have. Now, it’s one thing to say you’ve got to have it, but how you go about getting that performance on a tight schedule, with camera-light-space-time considerations is another matter. And…action! Marielle is a total pro and stands-and-delivers tears for take after take. Ever wonder how actors can pull that off? Emotional recall is a bitch and saline tears are always handy in case the actor just can’t get there. Tonight, that wasn’t an issue. Beautiful job, Marielle!
- · DAY 13 4-21-13
Being Writer-On-Set isn’t a thankless task. It’s not a task at all. You’re irrelevant, unless there’s a moment where a script change actually has to happen. In a previous movie I directed/wrote, Jane Doe, when we weren’t even close to making our days, I would have to draw up daily bridges from scenes A to C because we never filmed Scene B. The movie no longer made sense without Scene B and I had to work fast to write new connections and dialogue to give the information that would have come from the scene we never filmed.
Here on Chat, that just hasn’t happened. We’ve made our day, every day. There have only been two times when director Boris Wexler turned to me for a word or line. Tonight, for instance, we weren’t going to film a scene because of time considerations. There’s a moment in the dialogue where Falcon says “She disappeared…into there.” Because we weren’t filming the computer we had to come up with a line change, and did so in about ten seconds. Piece of cake.
No matter how much I’d like input into the process of creating the scene in terms of blocking, or influencing an actor’s emotion for any given scene, I know that my wisest course is probably just staying THE FUCK out of the way and letting Boris and DP Fred Miller make the movie happen. This, of course, is likely not to be the movie in my mind. The look of this film that I, the writer, saw before we starting shooting, the movie in my mind, was stripped down, a realistic look to it with stylized actor intentions ala Lynch. This movie would live a shade or two into stylized reality. What’s shaping up is just the reverse. Boris’ vision is more realistic performances and stylized look. Saturated colors are giving us an almost Dick Tracy look. It’s not the movie in my mind, and you know what….that’s fine! CHAT doesn’t have to be the movie in my mind. It just has to work.
Thus, in the course of staying out of people’s way, my on-set duties have recently involved the new title of COFFEE BITCH. I am happy to be coffee bitch to our marvellous DP Fred Miller. To keep him caffeinated through these crazy 4 a.m. shooting schedules. Others on the crew have caffeine needs too and the least I can do is make a 1:30am Starbucks run for these noble fellows making my movie happen. The Chat coffee list tonight looked like this: Chai, two shots of expresso; Café Americano with steamed soy; Skim milk Latte shot of expresso; Grande Mocca; 7 Tall Coffees….
When I’m not the Coffee Bitch I’ve been taking photos of the shoot for social media purposes. We’ve got weekly updates going out over my blog here at Script Gods, at www.moviebytes.com, plus the 2X a week posts on Escape Films at Facebook. A once-a-week video clip (taken by me) is also going out to our Kickstarter backers to give them a backstage look at Chat. In the realm of micro-budget, this is essential activity. Building a niche audience has to happen. We want to bring people into the experience of making the movie on every level. That might mean creating a small-part for a big enough donor; it might mean naming the lead character’s pet mouse; it can also mean getting advice and suggestions from our backers on everything from the movie’s title down the costume a character might wear.
The look Fred Miller and crew have given us tonight is a wonderful amber look. In the script it’s described as an apartment lit by 15 watt light bulbs. The sanctuary of a man with photophobia, a disease of the eye concerning light. Our team has made it look these brick walls look exactly so, the big scene being Falcon entertaining Annie after their first meeting. Falcon tells of how his eyes degenerated and how Mary Rose left; Annie agrees to ask around and help find her. Rush Pearson—after having his “red eyes” applied—stands and delivers a powerful monologue. We have to be out of this apartment tonight and the pressure’s on all concerned to get adequate but inspired coverage within our 12 hour timeframe. Another 4 a.m. close out, the days blur one into another, but this movie is coming together.
Two weekends to go.
- DAY 14: 4-26-13
I owe it to Falcon (Rush Pearson) and the Hot Dog Vendor (Rich Cotovsky) to attempt to list every sound source disturbance in our shooting the single scene that was the Hot Dog Vendor monologue. For whatever purpose, I decided to give the biggest monologue of the movie to a ONE SCENE character in, yes, an exterior night shot. This sort of thing might have been fine for Preston Sturges with an unlimited budget for his 1930’s comedies, but not so hot for micro-budget digital movie-making circa today. Notoriously difficult to shoot exterior night scenes for just such sound troubles. The cast and crew attempt to lay it on the line and throw down against the dark forces outside our Weekend 6 location on Erie Street. A smattering of these were:
—The loose manhole cover that jiggled metalic for every car that ran over it.
· —The beeping gate of the parking garage that rang out like a warning bell on Star Trek Deep Space 9.
· —The drunken Erie Street bar hoppers whose fascinating drunk speak babble was oh so more important than respecting some dinky micro-budget trying to make its day.
· —The passing EMT van, cop cars, cop wagon, limo, pizza delivery guys, and a dozen other rubberneckers who slowed vehicles to a crawl to gape out on what might have been the filming of the final first-season episode of Chicago Fire, but alas, was only us.
· The same vehicles attempting to park in the two parking spaces cleared out by Chat crew to have ample views of the location across the street. PA’s and the writer himself were dispatched as living lawn chairs in the great Chicago tradition of saving cleared parking spaces. Unfortunately, this only works in winter.
· —The sirens in downtown skyscraper chasms howling…
· —The skateboarders click-clacking…
· —The Harley-engines revving…
· —The small dogs of high-rent paying owners, late-night walked whilst yip-yapping…
· — The constant Muddy Waters from yet another ubiquitous Friday night sports bar…
These and a dozen others. Truly amazing Cotovsky pulled it off, standing and delivering that monologue time and again like some cross between Abby Hoffman and Charles Manson. There are scenes that great movies, and even mediocre movies, will always be remembered by. When you watch Chat don’t forget I told you about the hot dog vendor scene. You’re will remember it.
And for you screenwriters, PLEASE limit those exterior night shots!
- DAY 15: 4-27-13
On the subject of memorable scenes, there were a couple tonight straight out of a Lynchian nightmare. Mulholland Drive-land. Without giving too much story away, poor Syd (Rick Peebles) is made to atone for a plan gone bad by lady liposuctionist Dr. Lauren (Cheryl Graeff). Fun Fact Trivia Question: Name the last female movie antagonist who was a liposuction doctor? Answer: None. Google away, the idea of a lady bad guy who also runs a plastic surgery complex is a new one. Cheryl terrifies in the role and her makeup plays a big part. From the crew we heard Star Trek Voyager with her wet, slicked back hair. Also, Tilda Swinton from some zombie movie; white-caked cheeks, an apparition, the slayer of men.
The big Dr. Lauren/Syd scene is set in the chamber of horrors– the liposuction room. Something Room 101-like about the lady doctor strapping Syd down and forcing him to memory-recall every event that contributed to his oh-so-sad life. “Think about all the times the kids called you Fatty.” As she paces over him in white smock, the look of the torture chamber is blue and DP extraordinaire (Fred Miller) has made the rig to end all rigs, allowing our Canon 5D to pull down right into the mouth of poor slob Sydney. Part-Lynch but part Coen Brothers, it’s a funny-as-shit moment long as it’s not YOU in the chair, the wannabe-mobster screaming for his very life!
This scene wrapped yet another 12-hour day. While it’s tough to do a 12-hour turnaround, the director (Boris Wexler) rightly notes how it’s even tougher to do the 20-hour variety. For instance, if your body gets used to graveyard shift, you get in a routine and sleep normally, even if you retire at 8am. Here though, shooting 8pm to 8am, to then attempt sleep normally and be back ready to go at 11am is difficult indeed. Anyone who has ever attempted to work graveyard part-time will understand the feeling. But no time to bitch and moan, like our director says, “Moving on!”
- DAY 16: 4-28-13
A special shout out to Dr. Rodger Wade Pielet for use of his offices at 1 E. Erie. Things were looking mighty bleak in our location search for a plastic surgeon’s office before he rode in like the cavalry! The cast and crew of Chat have once again taken over the entire floor, making use of every corner and nook. This includes the procedure rooms complete with dentist-like, fully reclining chairs, towels, and the machines that remold and shape the customers who patronize our good doctor. Also bearing notice: nick-knacks in the doctor’s office itself: The radio remote controlled two-foot long helicopter, the tequila bottle shaped as a pistol, and the never-to-be forgotten plastic-mold, squeeze-toy, stress-relieving, foam breasts. We have never seen their like in this world before….
The good doctor is on set today looking over the two major dialogue scenes we’re filming. Compared to what went on Friday night these are tame by comparison (and perhaps it’s a good thing the doctor wasn’t on hand to see the Syd “therapy in blue” scene!) In one scene Dr. Lauren talks of the human “biological materials” she has in a red thurmus-style device. The real doctor tells Boris if we had come just a couple days before he could have donated all the real sucked-up fat we could handle.
Now that’s an image we could happily… just…leave alone.
Between the two scenes, we film SIX pages in half-a-day. Not too shabby! Especially when you consider that they shut the air off completely on weekends. Happened to us in our Board Of Trade location too. No air on weekends. Not a biggie when it’s 35 outside. Alas, we’ve turned the corner on winter in the final days of April. It’s a beautiful 75 outside, making it downright brutally hot in here, airless, though not without sound issues.
The city that never shuts the hell up contributed again today with EMT vehicle sirens, car horns, car alarms…three members of the crew even swore they heard a cat wailing. We got through it with Rush and Cheryl delivering savage lines take after take. Film the two scenes completely from one side, pull in from the master to the medium to the close shot, then reverse, spice it up with some handheld… Looking damn good.
Last weekend, coming up!
