“Alan Smithee was an official pseudonym used by film directors who wish to disown a project, coined in 1968.”- Wikipedia
I’ve bemoaned Jane Doe way too often here on Script Gods. It’s the single feature-film I directed, a doomed movie project that somehow ended up making a couple million bucks and landing on Entertainment Tonight and in a shitload of video stores. The pity is, it didn’t have to be doomed.
The source material was a strong play I’d written, A Fire Was Burning Over The Dumpling House One Chinese New Year. When I say strong material, that is a statement backed by scientific methodology. Empirical evidence. Three productions, months upon months of live audiences, a bunch of audience members teary-eyed nightly upon lights up. This would indicate, yeah, the piece was strong.
So what went wrong and why should you care?
As usual here at Script Gods, I’m happy to pull down my pants and reveal my own fuckups if it benefits the common good. Do-as-I-say-not-as-I-did, knowing what not to do being as valuable as knowing what to do, when you make your own micro-budget film is a film school in itself.
I recently dusted off the set notes I kept during that May of 1996, when we shot this relic. I almost became Alan Smithee, wanting to distance myself from the stink. In the end I did kept my name on it, but if you don’t want this to happen to you, Good Reader, learn the warning signs:
- · CABS RUN ON BATTERIES
We need to shoot inside a taxi. My instinct is to grab one and pay the cabbie for a couple hours of time. Producers say no, unacceptable, so they pay three times the price to get a professional “movie taxi” brought in. It takes long minutes to load off the flatbed. They try to start it up and it doesn’t start. Try again. Nothing. Pop the trunk. Aha… Dead battery. 90 minutes later producers hail a cab and pay the driver for a couple hours of time. We lose nearly two hours of shooting time which translates into cut dialogue in two scenes and the butchering of a third, cutting it out altogether. Trust your instincts. And if you need a cab, check the damn battery.
- · DIRECTOR IS WITH CAMERA OR ACTORS, NOT SHOOTING DICE
This one’s on me. My friend, Rich Cotovsky, paid his way to Atlantic City to be in the movie. I wanted to spend time with Rich so during a break shooting on the Boardwalk, we cut loose and ducked into the Sands Hotel to shoot some dice. Came out about 30 minutes later, nobody even noticed I was gone! Check that… the AD rolled over and asked where I’d gone. I said I felt like shooting some dice, so… “Director is with camera or actors, Paul” she mumbled. Alas, she was so right…
- · BEWARE WHO YOU GET INTO BED WITH
Any good writer knows, nothing is as it seems. You misjudge the people you’re working with. This is not to attack producers, by the by. I’ve had terrific experiences with producers. I’ve also had experiences like on Jane Doe. Be very, very careful who is producing your movie. It might be the single-most important decision you make. On Jane Doe, the producer responsibility was dually split between my father and brother, who raised half the funds, and Unapix Entertainment, who came in for the other half. We had a good initial relationship but their trust and hands-off approach lasted only about two days into shooting.
Then multiple producers landed on set and starting giving orders one would traditionally consider in the director’s domain. Like dictating specific cuts in scenes, or full scenes we wouldn’t be shooting. Or cutting the single-line role of an actor friend who came three hours to be in the movie, who was promised a part, and to save a hundred bucks, wanting to cut him. “He can’t be in this scene.” “He will be.” It only escalated from here…
Bringing me into an office to face a daily inquisition; signing papers for petty expenses with no clue where those hundreds of dollars were going; wanting me to fire people they had issue with and I had none; reading the first Press Release to find my name, the director/writer, had been misspelled (Perditto), omitting my brother (Producer/Lead actor) and father (Exec Producer); hearing through the grapevine plans of a hip-hop soundtrack but never once being consulted or even asked for my opinion. This is how you go from “I’m here to help you, Paul. Anything you need!” to “You should be on your knees thanking me! I’m saving this movie!” Good Reader, for pity’s sake, be careful who you get into bed with!
- · HIRING A CREW THAT ISN’T PROFESSIONAL OR ALL-IN ON THE PROJECT
Four AD’s in 18 days? Seriously? For a first-time director? Not ideal. Or the Line Producer and Locations guy never talking so we schedule a Sunday shoot at Steel Pier to discover that Steel Pier closed on Sundays. And we don’t find that out until 20 people descend on a locked gate? Not ideal. Or the Casting Agent promising The Baroness, our Transvestite #2, the role of Transvestite #1. Shooting paused as The Baroness calls her agent to sort out the discrepancy, threatening to walk. Someone in Art Department jamming a bagel in a toaster to create smoke for a deli scene and starts a small fire. Hanging a lighting grid over a bathtub where your two lead actors will be getting into a bath tub and will likely die a swift death should it break free of its gaffers tape or WHATEVER THE FUCK you’re hanging it with! Not hiring a stunt coordinator which directly leads to a radio flying into Calista Flockhart’s head, she reaching up to her hair and pulling out a handful of blood. Not ideal.
- · DON’T MAKE ENEMIES WITH YOUR DP
Toshiaki Ozawa (Toshie) and I ended up on poor terms. It saddened me. I was the first one to admit my limitations as a film director but I had a responsibility. My old man had anted up $90,000 dollars to this enterprise and I was going to get this film in the can no matter what. There are AD directors and DP directors—those that will “make their day” at the expense of the film’s look, vs. those that will give the DP as much time as necessary to light the shot, making the schedule second to the shot. The key, obviously, is to find the happy middle where you’re making your day and shooting everything you’re supposed to, while coming away with the best possible coverage and film look, making both the DP and AD happy. That didn’t happen with Jane Doe.
I pushed Toshie, but he was fully capable of pushing back. “Do you want me to go, Paul? And you can shoot it.” The producers nearly swallowed their tongues. Toshie was given addition powers behind my back, ending up having final say on camera coverage, how many takes, camera angles, etc. I wouldn’t have minded ceding that power, but not with threats and back room handshakes.
‘Paul treats me like a dog,” Toshie told my brother. Meaning relentless driving him to the next shot. Toshie, I apolgized then, and do here again. It was only to get the movie in the can. Which leads us to the next red flag…
- · MAKE SURE SCHEDULE AND BUDGET AREN’T FANTASYLAND
Upon further review it was estimated we’d need 20 days to shoot this movie with script requirements, actors, and production needs. The initial estimate was 11 days. If you’re thinking that’s a hellava discrepancy, you’d be right! The first budget was a complete joke. Fantasyland. When it came time to shoot, we were on pace to run out of money by Day 11, about halfway through the script. The Unapix producers gave enough cash to shoot 18 days, not a second more. Great! Got an extra 7 days budget.
But… not so great… we really did need 20 days to shoot it as is. No problem, two days of script would have to be cut. And if Paul was unable to do so or unwilling, it would be done for him.
I don’t blame Unapix for this. They didn’t create the first Fantasyland budget/schedule. Sooooo much of the tension that followed flowed from this miscalculation. If there’s one takeaway from this post, it’s this: Get the BEST possible person you can to run the budget and schedule numbers. Crunch those numbers so you KNOW it’s doable for the money and time you have committed. Do this, or prepare to loosen the dogs of war.
- · BEWARE OF CROOKED TREES FROM STRAIGHT ROOTS
The last tell that you’re on your way to becoming Allen Smithee?
True story. I opened a fortune cookie the night before our first day of production. It said: Beware of crooked trees from straight roots.
