As an aspiring Writer Director, you've got to really earn your post. It's a competitive gig, and you better be sure that you've got the talent and dedication to make it work. So with some thought, I decided to ponder over how I'd progressed in this popular role.
Now for some reason or another, most of my films are horrendous fire hazards. Some how or another some god damned thing ignites and causes considerable damage. Often it'll be a member of cast, or possibly my shoes. I can't even get a studio booked anymore because the University's insurance company won't allow it. I didn't really want to believe that this could somehow tie in me my abilities as a Director, but with such a heavy casualty (and sadly fatality) list from fire related injuries as well as thousands in property damage... well it hasn't happened to anyone else on the course even once, ever.
Also I have a habit of losing my temper at times, which causes a lot of friction. Often this friction will be between my knuckles and someone's skull, and in some ways it sends out the wrong message. People have to understand how stressful it can be running the show, especially when you're having to keep one eye on your inexplicably combustible shoes.
Going back to a positive, I have a very unique and dare I say exciting directing style. In my experience most actors are unresponsive to being told what's needed, particularly when unconscious or while ablaze (unless they're a true professional, which is hard to find). With a lot of back and forth testing, I now use the medium of dance to give my actors direction. I've lately expanded this out to communication with the crew, and lately in production meetings too. I'm working on making it work over the phone, but in fairness I'll probably need to use video calls. I think they're included on my contract so it's a realistic vision.
I'll probably explore this more in the future, since self evaluation is always important to keep yourself sharp in any business.
Sunday, 28 October 2007
Saturday, 27 October 2007
Note on Film Equipment
It doesn't go well with sand, and shooting on the beach causes nothing but problems. Obviously it's a tempting spot with the lush view and also local here. But sand can get everywhere and a scene there would have to a one take if you want to use the audio captured as is (due to the sound of the sea and noise throughout, any cutting prevents it).
None the less, this hasn't deterred one of the lecturers to try this out on the Summer School. It's not that surprising since the guy's completely bonkers, but it is a bit awkward to use a sand packed tripod smoothly. However we've got proper HDCAM cameras in waiting, and while they don't have the motorised massage chair attached I was hoping, I guess it's a blessing in disguise.
Also if too much sand gets in the actors then they JUST MIGHT GIVE A GREAT PERFORMANCE, so feel free to shovel it down any orifice you're happy to wrestle with.
None the less, this hasn't deterred one of the lecturers to try this out on the Summer School. It's not that surprising since the guy's completely bonkers, but it is a bit awkward to use a sand packed tripod smoothly. However we've got proper HDCAM cameras in waiting, and while they don't have the motorised massage chair attached I was hoping, I guess it's a blessing in disguise.
Also if too much sand gets in the actors then they JUST MIGHT GIVE A GREAT PERFORMANCE, so feel free to shovel it down any orifice you're happy to wrestle with.
Saturday, 20 October 2007
Film Course Year Two Day Five
There weren't many lectures during the first week, and most of the practical and specialist workshops were cancelled due to threatening letters from an anonymous source. Taking that into account, the guest lecture may not have been the success it was originally declared to be.
I took my friend up on an offer to get something to eat come Friday, and he asked me for some help assessing the script. I was a bit distracted by my meal, so I mainly discussed the font and nodded while he talked. Swiftly after finishing I recieved a call from my Producer Jake, who'd set up a meeting with the entire cast and crew.
Stepping into the Studio we'd arranged to meet in, I noticed that the whole place was exceptionally smokey. Looking back down the corridor I'd just walked down, the walls seemed unusually ablaze. I shrugged it off and sat down, checking my watch and humming while I waited for everyone else to turn up. After a minute my phone rang, Jake out of breath.
"Hey, they think the fire was started by that crazy Danny Gl..."
"...Where are you guys? I'm sitting here waiting."
"Wait... what do you mean you're sitting there waiting? We were going to meet in the studio, the entire place is on fire!"
"Alright Jake, but in future you could tell me these things before the meeting." As I finished the sentence I saw a naked Danny Glover step into the room, empty vodka bottle in one hand as he chuckled to himself.
"Get out of there!"
"Jake I'll talk to you later, bye." I put my phone back in my pocket, Mr Glover strolling up towards me. I could appreciate why his dress sense was so well ventilated with the building heat in the studio, but it was a bit early in the day to be drinking. Also since the entire place was apparently on fire, I should probably make my way outside and take him with me.
As I stood up, one of the gas veins exploded, blocking the exit in rubble. Mr Glover suddenly leapt onto me, hugging tightly and bawling in tears. "Riggs... Riggs... I'm too old for this shit..." he spluttered.
I brushed back his thinning hair, mustering the most comforting smile I could think of. "Yippe-kai-yay-mother-fucker..." I whispered, swiftly remembering I'd got the wrong film as he edged away in horror.
"You're not Riggs... YOU'RE NOT RIGGS AT ALL," he screamed, pulling out a pistol. As I stood wondering where he'd pulled the weapon from on his butt naked form, he quickly unlocked the safety. "You're... you're that Dutch guy... YOU SHOT RIGGS!"
It was a tough situation but I think I knew how to handle it. "No dad, I'm your daughter Rianne." He took a short moment to take in this revelation, perhaps pondering why I wasn't a teenage black female, but I nodded reassuringly and his hostility broke away. He leapt onto me in another embrace.
"Baby... you're my baby." Then once again he snapped, pointing the gun to my jaw. "WHY'D YOU DO THAT DAMN CONDOM ADVERT, THE GUYS ON THE FORCE BEEN LEAVING RUBBERS IN MY DESK FOR WEEKS!"
I have to admit I hadn't seen this twist coming, and was pretty concerned till I finally realised he was holding a water pistol. Then again, humidity really fucks up my hair, so I decided to boot him into the flames. Almost about the pass out from smoke inhalation, I ran through the exit myself, my clothes quickly igniting. I took an immediate left and launched through the window of the nearby Technician's Office.
The day once again over, I boarded the bus home and patted out my smouldering rags.
I took my friend up on an offer to get something to eat come Friday, and he asked me for some help assessing the script. I was a bit distracted by my meal, so I mainly discussed the font and nodded while he talked. Swiftly after finishing I recieved a call from my Producer Jake, who'd set up a meeting with the entire cast and crew.
Stepping into the Studio we'd arranged to meet in, I noticed that the whole place was exceptionally smokey. Looking back down the corridor I'd just walked down, the walls seemed unusually ablaze. I shrugged it off and sat down, checking my watch and humming while I waited for everyone else to turn up. After a minute my phone rang, Jake out of breath.
"Hey, they think the fire was started by that crazy Danny Gl..."
"...Where are you guys? I'm sitting here waiting."
"Wait... what do you mean you're sitting there waiting? We were going to meet in the studio, the entire place is on fire!"
"Alright Jake, but in future you could tell me these things before the meeting." As I finished the sentence I saw a naked Danny Glover step into the room, empty vodka bottle in one hand as he chuckled to himself.
"Get out of there!"
"Jake I'll talk to you later, bye." I put my phone back in my pocket, Mr Glover strolling up towards me. I could appreciate why his dress sense was so well ventilated with the building heat in the studio, but it was a bit early in the day to be drinking. Also since the entire place was apparently on fire, I should probably make my way outside and take him with me.
As I stood up, one of the gas veins exploded, blocking the exit in rubble. Mr Glover suddenly leapt onto me, hugging tightly and bawling in tears. "Riggs... Riggs... I'm too old for this shit..." he spluttered.
I brushed back his thinning hair, mustering the most comforting smile I could think of. "Yippe-kai-yay-mother-fucker..." I whispered, swiftly remembering I'd got the wrong film as he edged away in horror.
"You're not Riggs... YOU'RE NOT RIGGS AT ALL," he screamed, pulling out a pistol. As I stood wondering where he'd pulled the weapon from on his butt naked form, he quickly unlocked the safety. "You're... you're that Dutch guy... YOU SHOT RIGGS!"
It was a tough situation but I think I knew how to handle it. "No dad, I'm your daughter Rianne." He took a short moment to take in this revelation, perhaps pondering why I wasn't a teenage black female, but I nodded reassuringly and his hostility broke away. He leapt onto me in another embrace.
"Baby... you're my baby." Then once again he snapped, pointing the gun to my jaw. "WHY'D YOU DO THAT DAMN CONDOM ADVERT, THE GUYS ON THE FORCE BEEN LEAVING RUBBERS IN MY DESK FOR WEEKS!"
I have to admit I hadn't seen this twist coming, and was pretty concerned till I finally realised he was holding a water pistol. Then again, humidity really fucks up my hair, so I decided to boot him into the flames. Almost about the pass out from smoke inhalation, I ran through the exit myself, my clothes quickly igniting. I took an immediate left and launched through the window of the nearby Technician's Office.
The day once again over, I boarded the bus home and patted out my smouldering rags.
Friday, 19 October 2007
Film Course Year Two Day One
So bright eyed and optimistic I stepped back into the AIB. It was fantastic seeing everyone again, and starting to feel that familiar sense that I'd returned to training for the career I love. Being closer to the town I had to wake up a bit earlier than normal to get in, but despite forgetting my jeans the bus journey in went smoothly enough.
The Monday Morning Production Meeting hadn't changed a bit, excuses about a complete lack of timetable and a few escalating arguments between lecturers, it was comfortingly nostaligic. The great news was yet to come though, we had a guest lecturer coming in that afternoon!
After the meeting was over I spent some more time catching up and went to the main Uni to get something to eat as well as sign up to the gym. Unfortunately dress code meant I wasn't allowed in, but I got all the roughage I needed from the drywall outside.
We went back in to the Studio and saw our guest lecturer was none other than Danny Glover! He was giving a lecture about working with actors, relevant to our upcoming unit (which reminded me, I needed to arrange a meeting with my actors now we were all back in Bournemouth). The ice was broken quickly as we all tried out our Murtaugh impressions, which Mr Glover found hilarious, eventually motioning for us to quieten down so he could begin.
He started by discussing the issues common to most actors on shoot days, and how he'd had a rocky start on the Lethal Weapon series when Richard Donner had insisted against using blanks in the guns for geniune authenticity. I scribbled down "Fire live ammunition at actors for geniune emotion" and someone shouted out another 'I'm too old for this shit!'. Mr Glover smirked but quickly when back to his discussion, one of my classmates couldn't resist one more go.
The rest was a blur, Mr Glover managed to beat the guy unconscious before we could drag him off. It would have been worse, but he wasn't able to leap over the front two rows successfully, and tripped knocking out a tooth. By the time he got to the victim, the student had already raised his guard, but perhaps that just spurred Mr Glover on.
So under the sirens flickering against the backdrop of the dimmering sky, we all walked out to leave, taking a few moments to be questioned as Mr Glover was thrown struggling into the back of a police van.
The Monday Morning Production Meeting hadn't changed a bit, excuses about a complete lack of timetable and a few escalating arguments between lecturers, it was comfortingly nostaligic. The great news was yet to come though, we had a guest lecturer coming in that afternoon!
After the meeting was over I spent some more time catching up and went to the main Uni to get something to eat as well as sign up to the gym. Unfortunately dress code meant I wasn't allowed in, but I got all the roughage I needed from the drywall outside.
We went back in to the Studio and saw our guest lecturer was none other than Danny Glover! He was giving a lecture about working with actors, relevant to our upcoming unit (which reminded me, I needed to arrange a meeting with my actors now we were all back in Bournemouth). The ice was broken quickly as we all tried out our Murtaugh impressions, which Mr Glover found hilarious, eventually motioning for us to quieten down so he could begin.
He started by discussing the issues common to most actors on shoot days, and how he'd had a rocky start on the Lethal Weapon series when Richard Donner had insisted against using blanks in the guns for geniune authenticity. I scribbled down "Fire live ammunition at actors for geniune emotion" and someone shouted out another 'I'm too old for this shit!'. Mr Glover smirked but quickly when back to his discussion, one of my classmates couldn't resist one more go.
The rest was a blur, Mr Glover managed to beat the guy unconscious before we could drag him off. It would have been worse, but he wasn't able to leap over the front two rows successfully, and tripped knocking out a tooth. By the time he got to the victim, the student had already raised his guard, but perhaps that just spurred Mr Glover on.
So under the sirens flickering against the backdrop of the dimmering sky, we all walked out to leave, taking a few moments to be questioned as Mr Glover was thrown struggling into the back of a police van.
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