Hearing Feedback

“I create art for art’s sake.”
“My opinion of my art is all that matters.”
“When I stop caring about what other people think is when I create my greatest work.”

Bullshit. Bullshit. And mostly bullshit.

I’m not speaking for everyone, only most of us. Yes, there are those out there who exist in a void where they can live and breathe their creative life, without a worry about money, commerce, and anyone else’s opinion of their creative works.

And if you want to meet these people, visiting hours are between 3pm – 6pm on Saturdays.


The entire process of making a movie involves the feedback of others. While the script and story began in my brain and my brain only, it has been greatly improved by collaborators. Smart actors round out their characters and motivations. An experienced producer has an eye on making sure the story makes sense. But all that collaboration is theoretical until we actually see it on the big screen.

Since I am relatively inexperienced at making feature films, it is important to surround myself with people who have more experience (read: know what they are doing). And it worked. My game was elevated because of the wisdom of others.

A friend once gave me some amazing advice regarding receiving and processing feedback: when one person gives you a note, it is only their opinion. However, once three different people independently give you the same particular note, then it is time to seriously consider what is being said.

Now that we are editing, it is especially important to bring people in throughout the process who have more experience. Our editor Jeff frequently sought the advice of two mentor editors who would give him notes. When we had a rough cut we’d invite in members of our production team to watch and give notes. Then after taking in their notes, we would bring in people unfamiliar with the story to watch and give notes.

From the feedback sessions we received a lot of notes, most of which were either immediately addressed, incorporated, or ignored. However, some big concerns were raised. These concerns were brought up by multiple people. In some cases, almost everyone:

  • The first act of the movie (the first 25 minutes) is too long. And way too slow.
  • One of the supporting characters’ motivation is completely unclear until it’s too late.

The first note was easier to address: cut, cut, cut. Lines of dialogue and even entire beats were cut. Beginnings and ends to scenes were removed. Even individual frames were snipped from moments. Some of my favorite jokes: gone. We scrutinized everything and managed to shave over seven minutes from the first 25.

The second note was a little tougher. How do we reveal more information about a character, specifically how do we tip off to the audience that this character might be playing for the bad guys? And how do we do this now that the movie is shot? We can’t go back to a location and do re-shoots. Even if we could magically get our locations back and convince actors to come in for free, the cost of crew and equipment would push us well past what little money we have left.

But thanks to editing tricks (what our editor calls “fakery in the bakery”) there are subtle steps we can take: we can reframe a shot to focus on a detail that otherwise might have been overlooked. We can blow up a shot to capture an emotion better that the original framing. Add a music theme that repeats, which subtly reminds the audience. Add sound effects. Hopefully using these tricks and others we are able to fix the problem.

Notes, adjust, notes, adjust, notes, adjust. After a few months of this we were ready for our next level of feedback: producers.


We sent our movie out to those who make movies. People with experience doing exactly what we are doing. I won’t name names, but roughly a dozen people agreed to watch our film, and we got their thoughts. Most of it was positive; we were on the right track. Surprisingly, some of it was contradictory (one person thought we didn’t see enough of one character, another person thought we saw too much of the same character). Much of the feedback was constructive. We were on the right track.

Was all this feedback seeking worth it? After all, we didn’t get the feedback we really wanted. The comment that EVERY artist craves. Feedback like this:

“It’s perfect. Don’t change a thing.”

Does that unicorn of feedback exist? If not, we didn’t find it. But we did find a place, months into editing, when the three of us (producer, editor, director) looked at each other and said “this is it. This is our movie.”

So now our movie is picture locked. That means that while we still have sound to enhance, colors to correct, effects to create, the basic edit of the movie is done. Roughly 90 minutes of entertainment.

Is it perfect? No.

But it’s a movie now. And we are getting closer to showing it to you.


Editing Away

Compared to the grueling shooting schedule, life in post-production is pretty genteel. At least, for our movie. I set the hours. We sit in a darkened, climate-controlled room. There are snacks and a stocked fridge. We go out to lunch or bring in take out. J.J. Abrams’ production company is one block away. Also, I have my own parking place!


When you know you’ve made it in Hollywood…

But it is work. I knew it would be a difficult process. First difficult part: the commute. In my five years in Los Angeles I’ve been fortunate that I’ve worked out of my home or in offices conveniently located near my home, with occasional meetings in far away places. We even shot most of Closure less than five miles from our home. I’ve watched Catia trudge all over town for auditions and sympathized, but never really experienced it. The edit room in Santa Monica is 15 miles from my home, and it takes 45 to 90 minutes to get there, depending on time of day. And in Los Angeles, there is no good time to hit the road. Maybe if I went to work at 11am and came home after 8pm the traffic gods would be kinder, but keeping up that schedule is difficult when, you know, you have to pick a kid up from day care at 5pm.


If I leave the edit room after 3pm and before 7:30pm, this is what it’s like. Every week day.


Why Santa Monica? The editor (who was working well below rate) lives there. The edit facility (which gave us a deal also well below rate) is there. And when you are making an extremely low budget movie on limited resources, you sit in traffic. Totally worth it.

Once I get past the 405 and into the facility, then we can focus on the work. It is immediately apparent where we succeeded and failed. Fortunately, successes are many:

  • Excellent continuity. Our five principal actors (Catia Ojeda, Cynthia Addai-Robinson, John Sloan, Milena Govich and Tom Choi) are all TV veterans with experience as series regulars. This means that continuity has been worked into their blood. And I’m not just talking about making sure the drink level is the same. Continuity involves turning the head the same way every time, folding arms the same, walking and stopping at the same place. The continuity is important so we can use different takes, depending on which line delivery we like more. And with these five, they are VERY reliable.
  • It looks gorgeous. Our D.P. Senda Bonnet and her team certainly did a lot with very little, but it looks magnificent. And Chantal Massuh-Fox and the rest of the art department dressed things wonderfully with extremely limited time and budget. Many times after watching footage, I would say that “it looks like a real movie.” Because it is.
  • Everyone involved got the script. What I mean by that is that this movie is slightly surreal. Characters aren’t 100% true to life, and the actors understood this, as did our Costume Designer Jennifer May Nickel, who’s take on costumes was as slightly askew as the characters wearing them. Everyone is working from the same playbook. Which means as director, I guess I did my job!

But it’s not all roses and Oscar nominations. We shot the movie so quickly there was little time to breathe, let alone reflect on how we were doing. But now, sitting in the cold and dark room, staring at a large screen, all the flaws are sobering. And MAGNIFIED. There is no escape from the mistakes, and each time we watch there are more. Regrets? I’ve had PLENTY: some casting choices, some directing choices, many missed opportunities for better lines, better plot twists, better everything.

So I spend my days on a roller coaster of emotion, bounding between elation for what was going right and the lows of anxiety, debating internally whether I was more of a hack as a screenwriter or as a director.

Jeff, our zen editor, kept an even keel. He liked what he saw, and much of what he didn’t he said could be fixed with “fakery in the bakery.” So after over a month of faking, restructuring, hiding flaws and magnifying gems, we had my official directors cut, which ran an hour and 42 minutes (including a four minute blank spot for closing credits, which are usually included in the run time). Time to show it to some trusted members of the team.

And we did. And that’s when we REALLY went to work.

Coming up next: Surviving multiple feedback sessions.



When you talk to film veterans, “post” only means one thing: post-production.

Post-production is exactly what it sounds like. “Production,” i.e. the actual making of the movie, is complete. Now we are in the phase of what comes next.

Movies are actually made three times: Writing the script, shooting the movie, and editing. Each part is instrumental and very different, and what’s important to note is that in each era of a movie, the movie is created. Each time. And differently. By the time production is complete, the movie is very different from what was in the initial script. And after the edit…

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…well, I’m getting ahead of myself.

“Post” can also refer to post-traumatic stress a.k.a. “PTSD.” A caveat: I use this term with much respect to people suffering from actual PTSD following much more horrifying situations. While making a film has been described in this blog (and in many other places) as akin to going to war, it is not the same. At all. Days are grueling, but lives are not risked (usually).

But I was showing similar symptoms. For weeks I would wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, wondering what shot I missed, what mistake I made, and dozens of other ways I ruined the movie. I would wake up to the angry voices of fellow crew members, collaborators, or even one of the dozens of investors yelling at me, only to hear their voices fade as my darkened room came into focus. Then I’d breathe, and relax. It was over. We got all of our shots. Except for some b-roll…

…well, I’m getting ahead of myself.

Once my life returned to normal (i.e. taking care of my kid, various writing jobs, having wine with dinner, not waking before dawn) we geared up to edit. As the anxiety and fears of production subsided, new fears crept in: sure we got all our footage, but how does it look? Does the sound hold up? Is the story clear?

Fortunately, my fears would be addressed quickly. The day after we wrapped I met our editor, Jeff, in a scene worthy of any Coen Brothers movie. Jeff agreed to edit our movie for an extremely cut rate, provided we could fit it in to his other conflicts, namely a TV show he would be working on for the next month. We agreed, and he said in the initial weeks he would work on his own time. Totally fine. When you have no money to spend, you get creative. And Jeff liked the footage he saw and felt he understood the tone, which is very important in picking an editor.

While we were shooting, Jeff had started cutting together footage on his own time. He even “employed” a friend as his assistant to cut some scenes together. The bit of footage I saw was good; he understood the tone of the movie. The day after we wrapped we needed to get the last drive of footage to Jeff, and since I was free I volunteered so I could meet the guy shepherding the next phase of our movie. He was working in Hollywood on his other project, so I had the address and was told to text him when I got there. He would come out and meet me, since he was technically working on another project and I couldn’t just drop in and talk shop. Fine.

So I park my car on one of the seediest blocks in Hollywood, which is a big claim since most of Hollywood is seedy, and walked past multiple homeless people to the address Jeff provided. The address was for multiple bungalows behind a security gate, and sure enough the names on the buzzer were legitimate companies; this wasn’t a flophouse but a legitimate film chop house. I texted Jeff that I was out front, and I waited.


The scene of the handoff.

Parked next to the gate was a faded VW Beetle, and a heavyset driver sat behind the wheel, staring at me.

“Hey. How’s it goin’,” the driver called out to me through the open passenger window.

“Pretty good.” I looked down the street. The homeless were unfazed.

“Waitin’ for someone?” Why the third degree, bub?


“Me too,” he replied. Great, glad we had this talk. Stared at each other awkwardly for a few moments until the gate opened. A lanky, long haired guy in flip flops walked out, holding a drive identical to the one I was holding. He looked at me, nodded, and walked to the car, holding out the drive.

“Have fun with Dee Wallace,” he said, handing the drive off to the guy behind the wheel. Then they both looked at me. What’s going on here? Dee from my movie? Is that one of OUR drivers? The other car spun off, as quickly as a decade old VW Beetle could speed off.

“Ah. You must be the director,” said the surfer dude. For months, our movie had been compared to The Big Lebowski. And here, standing in front of me, was a very Lebowski type of guy. And our movie was now in his hands.

And that, my friends, is a true Hollywood story.

Up next in Closure: The edit, a.k.a. reinventing the movie a third time.

Closure Recap: Splinter Days, or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Beach

Closure is in the can (or on the drive to be more 21st Century) and editing has begun.  I have recapped each day of shooting, from Day 1 to Day 12. Next up: our splinter days.

Shooting a movie in 12 days is a complete lie.

Yes, we had only 12 days of principal photography. That is what we could afford, two six-day weeks of crew, locations, equipment, meals. But even though we had limited location, very few special effects, stunts, crowd scenes, or complicated set ups, not to mention talented actors who could handle 7-10 pages of dialogue each day, it still isn’t possible to shoot our 103-page script in 12 days.

To make it work Beau and I planned to have splinter days, which is when a smaller group splinters off from the main production team. There are certain scenes that can be shot outdoors (so no lighting) and without audio (so no sound team) and with fewer actors. A smaller crew is definitely cheaper to maintain. And, a smaller crew draws less attention in case you happen to be shooting in areas where you did not secure permits NOT THAT WE WOULD DO ANYTHING LIKE THAT OF COURSE, THIS MOVIE IS A LEGITIMATE PRODUCTION AND WE WOULD HAVE NO NEED TO SAVE MONEY BY NOT GETTING PERMITS SO WHY ARE WE EVEN TALKING ABOUT THIS? NO FURTHER QUESTIONS!

So technically we shot about 95 pages in 12 days, leaving roughly eight pages of the script we still needed to get. Beau, Paul and I planned out three additional days, and the biggest crew day would be first. Then we’d reduce our footprint each day until our third day would just be me, Senda and her camera, and Catia.

We were scheduled to shoot Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday in the week immediately following our wrap of principal. Taking Sunday off (and even that involved running a lot of errands and scheduling) Senda and I spent Monday scouting locations and even picking up a shot or two. Then, we were back in.

Splinter Day 1: The Beach


Senda and Brie set up for what will become the final shot of the film.

We had multiple scenes to shoot, so our stripped down crew met at an out-of-the-way beach at the county line (no need for permits). In fact, the beach was so popular that there were two other shoots going on simultaneously! First we did some driving shots on the PCH. After our grueling schedule, this felt like a vacation…

…only it wasn’t, of course. Next we went to the beach itself. Our stripped down crew included me, Beau, Catia, another actress Ellen Karsten (who will be playing the soon to be memorable “Ha Ha Yoga Lady,”) the full camera crew, our AD Paul, our UPM Justin, Jennifer our Costume Designer, and Celina, our hair/makeup one person team, who also used her car as the makeup room.


Catia probably now misses her dressing room from last week.

The last link was our sound department. Or rather, sound guy, our fourth to be hired this movie. He was hired last week and as a favor to Beau, cut his rate to fit our budget. Unfortunately, we may have cut the rate too much as he backed out on us at the last minute. Undaunted, Beau called sound guy #3 (who was the best of the bunch, actually) and he was free and within an hour, joined us.

Because of the sound delay, we had to do some rearranging and wound up staging the first scene without audio, making sure to get the back of Catia’s head at the crucial time she had dialogue so we could add it later. No one will notice (we hope). The sound guy did show up for our last beach scene, and miraculously we got clean sound, which is next to impossible with crashing waves just off camera. A minor miracle. And, as quickly as he came, the sound guy was wrapped. And there would be no more sound recording for the rest of the movie.

Splinter Day 2: The Park

Even though we are no longer worried about blocking out external sound (like planes flying overhead, loud car radios, etc.), today won’t be easier. We are shooting the climax of the movie, a montage set to music with a little voiceover we will record later. Two wild cards: working with a young child, a friend’s daughter, who isn’t an actress and is usually camera shy. We’ll have to trick her into performing. The other: Catia is playing two roles today, both Nina and her sister. This means we have to shoot the full sequence twice, and in between give Catia a chance to get into the other wardrobe, makeup and hair.

Fortunately, everything worked out (although big lesson learned: don’t shoot in a strip mall parking lot during lunch hour). We wrapped on our adorable child actress late in the afternoon, took our lunch break, and then an even smaller crew (just the camera team, Catia and me) went back to the abandoned apartments from Day 10 to pick up some shots that we missed when we ran out of time. Senda commented on how nice it was to move with a stripped down crew, and I agreed. That said, as we wrapped that night we bid a fond farewell to Brie and Joey from the camera department. We need to be completely stripped down for our last day.

Splinter Day 3: The Airport

IF one was to shoot a scene from a movie at an airport (and I’m not saying we did), then I imagine the best way to do it is have no one know you are shooting a movie at an airport:

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Just two people going to the airport. Is that a cart loaded with bags, or is it a camera dolly?

I am not advocating shooting a location without a permit. Nor am I acknowledging we did anything of the kind. Hey, look behind you! (Alex runs off).

After “looking” for “our luggage” at “the airport” we broke for a glamorous cast and crew lunch for the three of us. For the past two weeks we enjoyed on site catering. Today: a Wendy’s that is attached to a gas station. The glamorous show biz life!

Then a few driving shots. Then, we unceremoniously picture wrapped while in the car. It was a small group: me as director/producer/production assistant, Senda as director of photography/first assistant camera/second assistant camera, and Catia as actress/makeup and hair assistant.

Catia and I dropped Senda off at home, then we drove home ourselves with a few hours to spare before having to pick up our son at day care. We sat mostly in silence, stunned that after years of writing, rehearsals, fundraising, preparation, we had set out to do what we wanted to do: make a movie.

We did it.

Coming up next: QUICKLY diving into post-production.


Closure Recap Day 12: Last Day of Principal Photography

Closure is in the can (or on the drive to be more 21st Century) and editing has begun.  I have recapped each day of shooting, most recently Day 11. Next up, the last day of principal photography.

Do you have a favorite birthday memory? I’ve had some memorable milestone birthdays and a few I’d like to forget, like the time my parents got lost on the way to the park and we only got to spend five minutes there before we had to turn around and go home.

But spending my birthday directing a feature film I wrote… well, that may be the best of the bunch (so far).

Yes, hard to believe that our 12th and final day of principal photography, April 22nd, is also my birthday. And this is exactly my wish. Well, maybe a cupcake and a shot of bourbon. The latter I knew was going to happen; the production assistant who drove my car most recently left the stickie note with Catia’s list of my favorite bourbons, presumably as a gift for me. But I kept my mouth shut…

…and my nose to the grindstone. Because even though we are down to one actor today, we have a lot to shoot. Nina has many brief scenes in her sister’s bedroom, and while most of them are short, they involve a number of costume and light changes. It won’t be an easy day.

I tried to savor every moment, but we were quickly falling behind. Not only did most of the bedroom scenes involve lighting and costume changes, but we were having trouble getting text messages and phone calls to come through on the prop phone (a.k.a. my phone). I could see the minutes ticking away, and the number of shots we had left. And I was pissed. And I yelled at the team. How could we move so quickly for 11 days, but now people were getting sluggish as we approach the finish line? People picked up the pace, but the idea of us wrapping by 9pm was quickly fading. We’d be lucky if we got out before midnight.

But there is still time for me to reflect on this great group of people, nearly two dozen of them, most of whom I had not met two weeks earlier. After today, I won’t see 90% of them until the wrap party, the opening of the movie, the next time we work together, or possibly never again.

They all poured their hearts and souls into this movie.


Second A.D. Kat Marcheski and Set P.A. Michael Wilson wait to jump into action.

For very little money.


Costume Designer Jennifer May Nickel makes a final adjustment to Iskandar (Marcelo Tubert). (Photo: Justin May)

All the time with positive, professional attitudes.


Second Assistant Camera Joey Skaggs (photo: Herb Hall)



Prop Master Ashley Cradeur and Art Dept. P.A. Paul Martin (Photo: Justin May)

My days were long, but theirs started before me and ended after me. Without complaint.


Makeup/Hair stylist Celina Dalnim Yun puts the finishing touches on Jack (John Sloan) (Photo: Herb Hall)

Hard to believe that less than a month ago it was only four of us, including producer Beau and line-producer/co-producer Steve. Beau had been working on the script with me for over two years now.

But before that, it was just me and the muse who inspired me to write the story: my best friend, my wife, and my favorite actress.

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Late last year she said her new years resolution was to make a movie. And here we are.

Despite falling behind early, we managed to finish while it was still my birthday. Barely. Paul called out “that’s a wrap on principal photography” at exactly 11:59pm.

Happy birthday to me!


Not pictured: a delicious shot of Basil Hayden.

We all briefly celebrated the end of the movie and my birthday. The moment was slightly ruined by a very anxious babysitter who kept texting, saying she didn’t think we were going to go that late and had to go because her mom was waiting out front. Ah, show business.

The following day was slightly relaxing, and we were able to take joy in that we had met our very ambitious schedule, and made all our shots…

…so far. There was still 10% of the movie left to shoot.

Coming up next: Three splinter days, and guerrilla shooting.

Closure Recap Day 11: How to Shoot (my wife in) a Sex Scene

Closure is in the can (or on the drive to be more 21st Century) and editing has begun.  I have recapped each day of shooting, most recently Day 10. Next up, getting near the end.

Spirits are better today. We can see the finish line. We are down to three actors: Catia, Milena and John, and two of them will wrap today. Now, with most of the film in the rear view mirror, it finally hits that we are almost finished.

Not going to be an easy day (what day is) but at least we are back to our home location for the rest of the shoot, which makes all of our lives easier. Now we can focus on sex.


“I want you to go in there and have sex with another guy. And we’re all going to watch.” (Photo: Beau Genot)

Those familiar with my writing are aware that sexual content frequently pops up in my script. This movie is no exception. I wrote previously about shooting the sex cult scene but today brings on new sexual situations. In multiple scenes Nina is trying to sleep when she hears her neighbors Jack and Prudence either having sex or arguing. And those sounds have to be recorded. A few days ago I mentioned to Milena Govich, who plays Prudence, that we will likely pick it up in post production, and she said “why? Let’s bang it out now.” (Her word choice, not mine). Indeed. We have the equipment and the personnel. Let’s do it now.


Milena Govich: ready for anything (Photo: Herb Hall)

So while the camera team is working on the next set up, I steal the actors to the other room. How do you direct a sex scene for audio? Say something like “okay, when I say action, pretend you are having sex. Jack, you are enjoying it slightly more than Prudence. And… action!” And they did. Got to hand it to the actors, they jumped in and did it, with gusto. When you hear it in the movie, keep in mind that in reality it was two actors sitting on opposite ends of a couch, in broad daylight, while a boom operator hovers over them with a microphone.

15 minutes of moaning and slapping later, we walked out of that apartment and Greg, our G&E team swing, sat there, grinning. He said “it took me about 10 minutes to figure out you were recording sound in there.” Now that would have been a way to spend my break!

We picture-wrapped Milena, then while preparing to shoot a Nina scene in the kitchen while she is on the phone, we realized we never got the other side of the conversation. So we called Marcelo Tubert who plays Iskandar to see if he was available. He was, so we briefly un-picture wrapped him to grab his scene, and then we moved on.

As time flew quickly and slowly as it does on a film set, day turned to evening and we prepared for the big sex scene. Actually, it’s a near sex scene that is interrupted, but no spoilers here. I had a chance to do some rudimentary blocking with our actors, so we were good to go.


Nina (Catia Ojeda) and Jack (John Sloan) pretend to take my direction while planning the big scene.

People asked if it was difficult directing and watching my wife in a make-out scene. It was honestly not a problem. First, it is such a technical thing, stringing together beats, moments and camera setups, that it doesn’t feel real or honest (although I hope it does on screen). And second, after nearly two weeks of long days, I was purely interested in getting the shots done correctly, and quickly, so I could go home and get some sleep.

However, we did have two unforeseen obstacles to overcome: first, due to a scheduling conflict with the actor playing Franklin, we had to wrap him yesterday which mean that the fight scene had to happen yesterday. Therefore, our lead actress now has bruises over much of the skin she is about to show on camera (she’s an easy bruiser, I HOPE we didn’t beat her up too much last night). Our makeup artist worked double time and managed to cover her with makeup.

The second obstacle was financial. The art department couldn’t afford a real bed and wisely decided to not grab an abandoned mattress from the highway overpass. Instead they purchased an air mattress. Under sheets and with bed posts (as you can see above) it looks very realistic. However, once our actors started going through the motions there was a loud sound every time they moved. And not a pleasant sound. Basically, a farting sound.

Sure, we can cut out a lot in post production. But it certainly was a mood killer, even more of a mood killer than having a small crew of people watching while the making out occurs.

So we adjusted the blocking to minimize the amount of noise, at least when dialogue was happening. In all of my film studies, no one ever advised “make sure you adjust your sex choreography to minimize mattress farting noises.” Another day, another lesson.

Coming up next: Day 12, the last day of principal photography. Also, it’s my birthday.

Closure Recap Day 10: Aftershocks, Staging a Fight, and a Little Light Breaking & Entering

Closure is in the can (or on the drive to be more 21st Century) and editing has begun.  I have recapped each day of shooting, most recently Day 9: Hell Day. Next up, the hardest day of the shoot.

Even though our first location of the day was on a picturesque tree-lined street in a glorious block in Burbank, everyone looked a little shell-shocked. Sure, one could say it was showing up for 10 of the last 11 days, but we all knew that the day before was brutal, and not everyone survived. To add to the stress, our replacement sound guy was running late, and would likely be up to an hour late. AND, he was replacing two guys, so he would be doing both the mixing and the boom operating. A great start.

The crew looked like they were going through the motions, and they probably were. But there was something deeper going on; most troubling, Paul our First A.D. and Senda the D.P. weren’t talking to each other. Normally they have to communicate frequently to keep on schedule, but they were barely acknowledging the others existence.

I could have said something. I should have. But I couldn’t massage egos at this point. I needed to stay focused on the script.

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Just because I’m sitting in a comfy chair on the lawn doesn’t mean I’m not working. Note the red pen: still making cuts on the third to last day.

Tonight we were shooting our big fight scene and I was still not confident in how we were going to pull it off. Sure, I got a sex choreographer on board, but I naively thought my theatrical fight experience was enough to cover. As I reviewed my notes, I wasn’t sure I was qualified enough.

But that was still hours away. First, a house in Burbank. This time, we waited for the Fire Marshall to show up before we started shooting so everything would be on the level. We got the shots off all right, but there was a definite gloom in the air. Catia and James Walsh as Detective Franklin were giving great performances, but it was a struggle for the rest of us. Senda looked like all the energy was gone. Even her ready for action call (which I still haven’t figured out what she is saying!) was low.

Of course, the struggle led to a slow down which meant we were once again behind schedule. We needed to have a company move to our abandoned apartment complex location, find a location for our parked car scene and shoot it before we broke for dinner.  That way we could spend the entire time after dinner working on the fight sequence.

Senda and I raced ahead and found a location where the light was kindest. The crew and actors arrived, and we quickly got into place. If we could magically pull off two setups of a two page long scene in 40 minutes, we would be back on schedule.

We did it in 25 minutes. James and Catia were brilliant. The photography was great. Even our new sound guy said everything sounded perfect. We actually broke for lunch early.

After “lunch” (since we started our day at noon, lunch was at 6pm) we started to set up for the establishing shot from across the street. The sun started to set. The light was perfect.


The camera team (Brie, Senda and Joey) is ready for action.

We did a take of our actors approaching the fence. Officer Franklin pretends to unlock the padlock and remove the chain, which can easily be faked as we are far away and he’s blocking it. Then he and Nina walk into the gloriously decrepit abandoned apartment complex we had rented. The take went well, but now the light was perfect and we needed to do it again. And then, a production disaster: on the walkie we heard the P.A. from across the street say “hey, who has the key to this lock?”

Yep. The P.A. locked the padlock. Totally unnecessary. There was one key. And that key was with our location manager Sean, who had left us for a few hours to work his other job, backstage at a theater. During a play. With his phone off.

Of course we should have kept the key. And of course we should never have locked the lock. But we did. And here we are, with the cast and 1/3 of the crew outside the locked property, and the rest of the crew locked in the property. Rather than explode in front of the crew (which would have done nothing) I went around the corner, cursed and punched things. It felt better, but didn’t solve anything. Someone ran out and bought bolt cutters and we were back in business, but we lost 45 minutes in the process. And the clock was ticking.

The fight scene was meticulously planned, but it involved many different shots. Each shot that took minutes longer than normal set us back even further. We blew our power generators, but bribed nearby neighbors to utilize their power. Tick, tick, tick.

Staging the actual violence took time, and adjustments had to be made. Tick, tick, tick. Beau glared from the corner, reminding me that we need to wrap up immediately. I was wracked with regret. I should have had a fight choreographer; while I had experience I wasn’t completely versed in how to get what I wanted to achieve. Our costume designer Jen doubled as our actors’ safety monitor, and that helped, but we just didn’t have enough people (stunt people might have helped) and time. Tick, tick, tick.

Got the last shot at the 12 hour mark. How did it all look? Absolutely no idea. It felt rushed and at times, crappy. To top it off after we raced to wrap I congratulated the crew but left my lead actress, who did all the heavy lifting, standing alone, shell shocked from the trauma of being beaten up and thrown around for the past few hours. Not checking in with her made me both a bad director and a bad husband.

After wrap, I drove home our exhausted and justifiably angry actress. We made our day, but it took its toll. Two more to go, but I don’t know if I can take another one like today.

Making a movie is VERY difficult.

Coming up next: back at home base, and saying goodbye to all but one of our actors.