09.29.06
Posted in Uncategorized at 8:31 am by Fletcher
This is one of my favorite questions that people pose to me on a regular basis. Whether its how do you spell something, what was that line in that movie with that guy in it, or how much memory should I let photoshop use; I always love the surprise in people’s voice when I give them an answer and they inevitably ask that question: ‘How do you know that?’
The quick answer is; I don’t know.
The long answer is that in my day to day web surfing, I don’t just go to a site and read the news, or look at pictures, or anything that is remotely linear. My web surfing habit would be like a ping pong ball in a box, shaken vigorously - ricocheting all over the place.
Today’s little discovery: Understanding the 10th Dimension. I found this little tidbit and got totally sucked into the Flash movie. And now I understand something new.
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09.28.06
Posted in Life at 8:23 am by Fletcher
More time with the Director and wife.
Still no word on the missing film, and in spite of these setbacks, I am in constant amazement at their resiliency, their ability to keep pushing onwards, whereas I would probably go into depression and kick any Fed-Ex employee who randomly crossed my path…
But, I can also see the toll it is taking on them both. How difficult it must be. And how much it feels like our collective child has been kidnapped by thugs in the middle of the night, and the vacant hollow it leaves behind. I want to do something, anything to help. Fly out to their lost package depot and sift the contents looking for our parcel, like a bloodhound on the trail.
I’ve reiterated my position many a time; if it boils down to re-shooting the film, I am there, no questions asked, and at any time the so shall choose. The only thing I can do in the meantime is to keep plugging away at the animation, if only to keep the spirit alive, that we are making progress towards a goal - that this is only a minor setback and ultimately we will prevail. And I draw strength from that. I can only hope that it gives them strength too…
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09.27.06
Posted in Life, Politics at 8:45 am by Fletcher
Still no word on the missing film.
I ran into Heather, who was entertaining an old drinking buddy - Em, last night, and I quickly got the news- which was no news at all. Things are tense, and its tough to keep an upbeat attitude, especially since everyone’s hard work is now missing in the ether. That, and an email I got from the parental units about how they had to cancel their trip to St. Croix because of financial woes has me down. I want to help them all - to do something to offset the heartbreak - or at least offer some distraction to forget their woes for a bit.
Its interesting, the conversation I had with the ladies last night, especially when the conversation turned to dating, and despite years of sucessful (and not so successful) relationships, I still enjoy learning more about a woman’s point of view, how they view things, how they see us. I still want to learn more…
Unintentionally Phallic pic of the day:
From the DailyKos:
Looks like the NIE could see me as a potential ‘terrist’:
Anti-US and anti-globalization sentiment is on the rise and fueling other radical ideologies. This could prompt some leftist, nationalist, or separatist groups to adopt terrorist methods to attack US interests. The radicalization process is occurring more quickly, more widely, and more anonymously in the Internet age, raising the likelihood of surprise attacks by unknown groups whose members and supporters may be difficult to pinpoint.
That and the suspension of Habeus Corpus, along with the reinterpretation of the Geneva conventions, any dissent voiced by the people could soon be a ‘traitorous act’ - looks like they’ll need bigger prisons to hold all them - maybe they’ll do like ‘Escape from New York’ and wall off Manhattan, except this one won’t have the WTC for Snake Plissken to land on…
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09.26.06
Posted in Art, Life at 8:51 am by Fletcher
Sunday Wrap Party -
After a long slumber, breakfast, a nap, shit, shower and a shave - I meander towards the Upper West Side, in hopes of further sweating out all toxins, some exercise, and perhaps the momentary glint of sunlight…
As per usual, the sidewalks are jammed packed with touridiots, who simply cannot refrain from walking at a snail’s pace, six abreast, and loudly complaining to each other how noisy, expensive and crowded the city is. And as per usual, I’m stuck behind them, wondering why anyone goes anywhere, and then bitches about it in a loud tone. I mutter under my breath that they are welcome to depart at their earliest convenience. Must have not been quiet enough, for some mom matronly type turns and glares at me, I respond by loudly hawking a loogie to clear these ‘tards out of my path.
Once I hit 9th, the traffic thins out, and I can keep a decent pace. The sun peeks out a bit and I feel my mood elevate. Lincoln Center is buzzing with people, the mood seems more relaxed. I stop by a wine store for some shiraz and a deli for a 6 pack and wend my way to Capt. Ron’s apartment. I’m greeted by the Director, his wife, Producer Scott and Producer Lydia. We are immediately thrown back 3 weeks, energetically talking about the shoot, how much fun it was, and then they drop the hammer on me.
Fed-ex lost the fucking film.
In one split second, I go through the stages that doctors warn you about when they deliver bad new; denial, rage, bargaining, acceptance. I’m once again amazed how calm the Director is taking all of this. But, he reminds me, the whole project has been nothing but trials and setbacks, he reminds me of hurricanes, ruptured appendixes, umpteen failed experiments in fake blood, and how we’ve triumphed in the face of all these adversities. He hand me a drink and we talk out on Capt. Ron’s deck, and after some terse conversation, I let him know that if it comes down to it, he has my full support in re-shooting the whole thing, if needed…
We all settle in, enjoying the afternoon, as other members of the shoot arrive, drinks and good conversation, Chris, the AD, comes with hundreds of 35mm prints that he shot, all for grabs, as we look through them, laugh and remember the hard work and camaraderie. Capt. Ron does an amazing amount of cooking, burgers, fresh octopus, grilled veggies and more, and as we all talk and drink and eat our fill. He puts the dailies from the Director’s last film, ‘City Teacher’ on the TV, and I get swept up, reminded that not only is he a good director, but a very talented actor as well, and I’m so used to one, that I forget the other…
After several hours of amazing talk, things are winding down to the core members, Heather rallying the troops to go sing karaoke, and after a bit of cleanup, we all hit the street, ready to take on the mic, the spotlight and Janis Joplin. We all split up, and I walk M. the hairdresser, to her car. When she is safely on her way, I’m just about to hail a taxi when I reach into my pocket. Whoops, only a couple of singles - time to find an ATM. I reach into my bag, grab my walkman, time for some travelling music. As soon as I hit play, I’m greeted by the fluid sax of Grover Washington Jr. - tonic for the soul. I’m instantly transported to another city, another time - remembrances of earlier days, more fueled by youthful enthusiasm, less tempered by setbacks, failures, life in general. The music reminds me that I still have that drive, that I’m tempered by life, not beaten by it, and the energy and creativity I felt by being with that group is proof. I’m so involved in that reverie, that I don’t notice that I’m near home, and the weekend catches up with me. I’m too tired to sing badly - I’m sure the group will forgive me if I take a pass - so I make my way home, to bed, to rest and begin anew…
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09.13.06
Posted in Uncategorized at 8:08 am by Fletcher
Changes:
Finally have a moment to breathe, take a quick look around, before launching off into a new wave of frenetic work. A quick summation of projects, finances, and new potentials…
Gotta get obsessed with the ‘Sovereignty’ animation, as work from the Director is proceeding faster than anticipated, if he’s asking me about new hard drives for his computer, which means he’s going into edit mode, (which is defined as hiding from the world, hunched over the computer unto the wee hours, playing video clips ad nauseum and trimming them judiciously) and aside from a few tech questions, will not have any new projects for me, so no excuses.
I think in order to truly get that “50’s” look that he wants, I’ll have to bite the bullet and buy a tablet, so I can draw out frames by hand, which, while laborious, does yield the look I want…
Also think I’m putting the video-game texture mapping aside for the nonce, as the German team is winding down, and I have little time to create new assets. (But if something falls in my lap and I have stuff already done, believe me, I’ll sell them in a heartbeat)
Which brings me to the money situation- I’m finally at a point that I can whittle away at the ol’ credit card debt, the dentist is done, taxes paid off, hot water heater bought, installed and working, and the Director reimbursed my expenses for the fake blood experiments, which I desperately needed. Perhaps I should sell this painting (again):
Over the course of my (checkered) career, I have loaned, sold, given and donated this painting numerous times. Everyone loves it, but somehow I find it back in my possession, and all told, I’ve made several grand from selling it to various collectors and somehow, I’ve been able to barter services to regain it. If I ever achieve fame as a painter, I’ll give it to the Met, and then promptly die and be buried with it, just to keep this streak going…
Hell, I will try to sell it again - the Smooth One is getting married next month, and we plan on a pretty hefty bachelor party, replete with virgin sacrafices, Rat pack-esque parties and leaving flaming bags of dog-shit on the White House front porch. Stay tuned.
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09.12.06
Posted in Uncategorized at 11:49 am by Fletcher
For some reason, it was screwing up my template and all previous posts were in a crappy bold typeface, so my list o’ shit that I’ve done (or haven’t done) had to come down. ^$#%&$ Wordpress, WYSIWYG my ass!
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09.11.06
Posted in Art, Life at 8:29 am by Fletcher
Week later, post-party analysis:
Its funny, as I read over the posts that document the shoot - I can describe the actions, the going-ons, the basics, but what I cannot convey, is the sense of being home, the connections, the feeling of actually being in the thick of it.
It was a rough week, going back to the occupational sphincter crunch, it was like getting a wrench slammed into yer balls. Dealing with retards, stupid questions, being strapped to an uncomfortable chair and wanting nothing more than to exercise my brain and body. And it really played counterpoint to the elation I felt on the set. Like I belonged. Like people actually took my crazy suggestions and ran with them, not constrained by some bullshit corporate definition of the ‘proper’ way of getting things done. And to transition back to mediocre bullshit, inane people, the need to pump out meaningless repetitive work seemed even more trivial than usual. Its been tough, going from the elation, back to the tedium…
Amazingly enough, the impact has far reaching implications.
The ol’ site jumped last week, a record 5,000 hits, I’m usually content with the couple hundred I usually get. If this increase stays relatively permanent, I’m certainly going to put up ads on the ol’ site, not only to annoy the piss out of people, but to add to my coffers. And buy some new clothes, computer stuff, take those ninja lessons, etc.
One of the gaffers, Gene, recognized my Half Life 2 t-shirt, and we got into a huge discussion about video games. When I told him that I did the texture mapping gig, he emphatically asked for my business card, to pass along to a guy he knows in the business, hopefully among the hits on the site is someone checking out the work I’ve done.
I ran into the Director and his wife on Thirsty Thursday, and (shocker) the conversation was about the shoot. Turns out that Capt. Ron, the DP, loved the work that I did, and if he had need for SFX, he’d hire me in a minute. The Director flat out told me that if I take a few more (non-paying) weekend gigs, learn the lingo, build a rep, that I could be an AC (assistant cameraman) in no time flat. Heather commented that she’s never seem me more comfortable with myself, more happy, or more involved than when I was working the shoot.
The Director, also in his wisdom, hooked me up with my own IMDB page, soon to have 2 credits on it, and the promise of more in the future. Fuck having a MySpace page, I gotta IMDB profile. Just gotta find a suitable photo for it now. Preferably me, covered in fake blood…
So, now the quandary.
I have the possibility of doing exactly what I enjoy, using my creative skills to the utmost. Being free from the shackles of corporate life. The trick is that I’d have to start over. Be poor yet again. (Not that I’m swimming in ducats as it is…) But the chance to do what I truly love, its far too much of a pull to ignore…
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09.09.06
Posted in Uncategorized at 9:19 am by Fletcher
Last day, early morning, and high, nervous tension.
Early morning shot list discussion reveals that my scene, my opus, the one I’ve been working on for weeks, running all over creation, planning, testing, sweating over, will be the last one of the day. Nice to keep building the tension to the last possible nanosecond… I can’t even take a dump, I’m so nervous.
1st shot of the day would entail the ‘Sinister Dad’ character, as he chats with our heroine, and then proceeds to pop 4 balloons in a row, while his right hand is covered in blood… freaky, just absolute freaky. And the actor they cast had a chilling calculating, unidentifiable accent that took the creepiest parts of every stage villain…
Being on props duty, I kept running to and fro, wrangling balloons between takes, resisting the temptation to suck down the helium and make jokes in the ‘helium voice’. We did several takes and then set up dolly shots for establishing the set, whilst I crammed thousands of postcards into the Director’s ‘mailbag’, which he would then dump, unceremoniously in front of the main character. We spent a few hours, filming different angles, I managed to cover my stress by doing movie quotes, and caused quite a reaction when I started mimicking Stallone in ‘Over the Top.’ We then broke for lunch. I was too edgy to really eat, had a few bites of salad and wandered outside to chain smoke, sitting with Heather, practicing her lines, also smoking, but seemingly calmer than I was.
The remainder of the afternoon was shooting the long monologues of the main character, as she commented on her idyllic life, and the strange going-ons in her little world, as I frantically set up in the garage, hoping my designs and plans would work out, as this was the last shot, we were running low on film, had limited blood and daylight was waning…
The setup involved a trough, made of cardboard, aimed at a small gap between the garage door and the frame. We would pour the thick syrupy blood into the trough, it would then leak out the small gap, and down the door. We just had to be on our marks when the proper time came. Or, at least, that was the theory…
So I had worked it out with the Director, Matt & I would get a call when our cue time came, we would walk across a series of chairs, pouring into the trough copious amounts of blood, meet in the center, grab 2 fresh gallons, and walk back, pouring more as we went. So, we doffed some plastic ponchos, set up the blood, and waited.
So I had worked it out with the Director, Matt & I would get a call when our cue time came, we would walk across a series of chairs, pouring into the trough copious amounts of blood, meet in the center, grab 2 fresh gallons, and walk back, pouring more as we went. So, we doffed some plastic ponchos, set up the blood, and waited. And Waited.
And Waited.
And then waited some more. I understood that the crew was practicing the shot, the actress was rehearsing her lines, but after 45 minutes, in a hot garage, in plastic ponchos, waiting, sweating, we were getting seriously antsy. Then the call came, the director whispering, ‘blood, blood, blood, more to the right, more, more more’ as we poured, stepped, poured, met in the middle and proceeded back. ‘Holy Shit!’ I turned and looked back to see the trough collapsing and dousing Matt in corn syrup and food dye. How ever it looked, this take was over. (click to see animation)
The director came running up, banging on the door, telling us to come and see the mayhem we had wrought. It looked impressive, but the Director wanted more. So we did a hasty scrub down and cleanup, I dreaded the owners seeing their garage, as the kitchen chair we borrowed we covered in the goop, as well as a huge lake of the stuff pooling in front of the door.
Once we reset everything, we got ready, and waited for the signal. ‘Blood, blood, blood’ the director whispered frenetically into the phone. Step, pour. Step, pour. repeat.
‘And, cut!’ the Director shouted triumphantly, “Fletcher, Matt, get out here and see this!’ We dropped our empty gallons and ran outside. It was glorious. People were clapping. The garage door looked awesome.
Matt and I posed for our shining moment, taking a pause to let it sink in, the long hours, the weeks of prep, the stress culminating in this one moment. Then we started cleanup.
Fast forward several hours later, when everything was scrubbed down (including the car that was in the garage that we inadvertently drizzled blood on when we opened the garage door) and the cast, no longer in costume, the crew relaxing with beers and pizza. I felt like I had just made 20 new friends, as we all exchanged numbers, emails and very fond farewells as people started departing.
The Director, Heather, Lydia and myself stayed to the last, cleaning and thanking our hosts, and packing the last of our gear for the ride back to the city, conversations filled with exultation’s, and sheer joy of what we had accomplished in such as short time. I was happily exhausted as they dropped me off, wandering home, feeling as if I had a life altering experience, and how was I to go back to the doldrums of my regular life, and it was in that moment, it had occurred to me, to ask you- the faithful reader- does anyone need a bottle of corn syrup?
I’ve got plenty.
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09.07.06
Posted in Uncategorized at 8:40 am by Fletcher
Ah the joys of being up at the wee hours of the morning, especially on a day off.
But we had work to do, and luckily Lydia’s mum was there, making gallons of coffee. She is a lovely woman, with a bright twinkle in her eye and an instinctive prescience for people’s needs, and she did it all with a smile. After guzzling a first cup, I refilled and wandered outside for a smoke, to find the director already at work, planting fake tulips and I joined in, trying to make a perfect, pathetic, flower garden, over tended with way too much care.
Seeing as the storm had left leaves and broken branches all over creation, I busied myself with a broom and rake, cleaning debris from lawns and driveways, sweating in the humid morning, when a van pulled up, the rest of the crew, boisterous, caffeinated and raring to go. I was introduced to Capt. Ron, the DP, a burly 40-something Aussie, with a strangely commanding, yet boyish presence. Another member of the crew was a drinking buddy, Matt, who joined me in the groundskeeping effort. A trying effort, as all the leaves were still wet and clung to every surface as if glued there.After Matt & I worked up a healthy set of blisters, we were saved by a local gent who took pity on us and broke out his leaf blower and proceeded to scour the whole neighborhood clear, whilst the crew set up the camera, silks, and reflectors. Once everything was in place, we all joined in a huge breakfast, introductions and bacon and eggs all around.
Our first shot was of the two leading ladies, and the young abused child who lived next door. I was taken aback by the lad, as he had an amazingly sharp mind, was youthful, but not in an antagonizing way. The shot involved the timid child being offered chocolates the the ladies, and he would run up, grab one hastily and upset the box, spilling the rest to the ground. As ‘props guy’ I spent time between takes scraping out melted chocolate from the box, and time during takes smoking and joking with Michelle, the every funny and foul-mouthed hairstylist. Who dubbed me the ‘Chocolate Wrangler’
After lunch, several shots, and several costume changes later, we started to run into problems: the first of which was the sun. We all had not bothered with sunscreen, as the early morning hours were cloudy, and as the crew got into the creative flow, we didn’t even acknowledge the sun - except when the occasional cloud would ruin the lighting of the shot. It wasn’t until the actresses went in for a costume change and the makeup people noticed that the burns would show up on camera… So after a quick concealer application, SPF30 for the rest of us, the Director had Michelle and Lisa (hair and makeup) hold umbrellas over the actresses, which Michelle joked, ‘Call us umbrella bitches!’ which prompted me to joke that I was going to start a band called ‘Chocolate Wrangler and the Umbrella Bitches’.
Our other problem involved the neighborhood, and locals who were curious and hung around to watch the filmmaking process, which despite little annoyances like people walking out of their houses at the wrong moment or making noise, were slight and easily dealt with. The king-hell-killer problem started when we filmed the shot involving one of the actresses, who had to pull out our fake prop dildo out of a mailbox and proudly show it off to the other actress.
She did this, just as one of the local housewives came out to watch.
And her husband just pulled up in his car.
With their 2 very young boys in tow.
After the take was over, she ran to her husband, loudly asking, ‘did you see what they pulled out of the mailbox!?!?’ Instantly the crew started looking around, sheepishly, wishing they could be somewhere else, and dreading legions of angry housewives bearing huge crosses, trying to cast out the sinners in their midst. Capt. Ron rescued the situation, pulled the concerned wife aside and spoke to her on low, measured, Aussie tones. Within minutes, she was laughing, and he sealed her acceptance by having her look thru the camera and hang with the crew…
Our last shot of the day involved the Director, proudly decked out in his Mailman uniform, and a complicated dolly shot, that luckily went off without a hitch. Once we wrapped for the day, we cleaned up and ate a sumptuous dinner, Producer Scott manning the grill and cranking out burgers, hot dogs at record pace. We slowly rounded out the day with ales and good conversation, and strangely, the people whom I just met fourteen hours earlier, seemed like a group of friends I hadn’t seen in a long time, and we joked around until the late evening until we all crashed out, happily exhausted and looking forwards to the next day…
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09.06.06
Posted in Art at 1:04 pm by Fletcher
It was raining Saturday morning as I awoke, made coffee and stared sullenly at the sky. My train was scheduled for an 11am departure, and I could only imagine the chaos that awaited me. So, I made breakfast, chatted with Mike, who was up for some strange reason that hour, packed my bags and walked to Grand Central, cursing myself for forgetting an umbrella.
Luckily, the horrid weather and despondent weather for the weekend left the train station sparsely occupied as I gathered my ticket, schedule and gear and rode out to CT, keeping my eye open for other cast and crew that were to be on the same train as me. The weather hadn’t improved by the time I got to my destination, waiting in the wind and rain for Lydia, the producer. She had arrived just as I was getting anxious and calling other team members for an update, and she introduced me to Ingrid, who was makeup and responsible for the blood that was to be applied to the actors.
On the way to the shoot, Lydia explained that the owner of the house, Mike, had burst his appendix and had been rushed to emergency surgery. He and his wife were supposed to be on vacation in Hawaii, but instead were stuck with us and our ragtag team during the shoot.
The neighborhood was as advertised, bucolic splendor in the ‘burbs. Pretty houses, immaculately kept, lawns tidy, cars newly washed. Inside, Heather was busy having makeup and hair done, the Director greeted me and we started looking around at logistics and how we might set up our SFX. We broke out the dyes and started with small batches and playing mad scientist until we got the right color, thickness and general molasses-like consistency that we wanted, made a gallon of the stuff and ran with a test:
Satisfied that we were on track, we proceeded to mix 10 gallons of the stuff, as passerby watched us sitting in the garage, suspiciously eyeing us like we were making homemade C4 and writing nihilistic propaganda. After that was done, I relaxed by the front door with a smoke and mused over how, despite setbacks, we were forging ahead- CRACK, BOOM! I leapt up and looked to my right just in time to see a massive tree limb snap off in the high wind, luckily missing the house we were staying in, neighbors and film crew streaming outside to see what the noise was. Luckily, no one was hurt, and no damage occurred, but it did give the team pause, as if we should ask ourselves, ‘what next??’
The rest of the evening was spent procuring massive amounts of chinese food from a local restaurant and the mood over dinner was relaxed as things seemed to be getting better, the weather seemed to be slacking off, the blood went well, and out 1st prop, a huge black dildo made of a banana and two limes wrapped in black tissue paper, looked convincing. The rest of the evening was spent sharing ales, stories and plans for the next day, as the zero hour was rapidly approaching…
(to be continued…)
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