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We're going to get killed on this movie. We're seriously undermanned, and I can predict that I'm going to be brain-dead more often than not for the next few weeks..

I usually try to make sure the entries on the blog are at least written decently, but it's not an easy thing to pull off while my brain has given me the finger.

So, here's the question:

Do you want me to post something semi-incoherent (see the previous entry) every day, or do you want me to post once a week (I'll take notes every day and then polish the posts and publish on the weekends - still a post a day but not published until the weekend)?

You tell me.

Day 1

The first day of a feature is always about working out the kinks - how everything's going to go into the truck (this one, when packed, looks like a sardine can), who does what well and who works best with whom - although we're only a five person crew: Gaffer, Best Boy and three electricians.

I ran into an old friend whom I haven't seen in about 10 years - he and I used to go to the same clubs in LA, and we sort of looked at each other for a few moments before we figured it out. He's working art department now. He looks exactly the same as he did back in the day.

Since production got the lighting equipment from the crappiest (and cheapest) rental house in town, we're already having problems with it - mostly minor (lights not working, latches breaking, etc..), but one piece of cable was mislabeled ( the neutral and hot legs were mixed up - I'll explain the whole thing later. I'm wiped out right now), and we ended up blowing up a light.

It could have been a lot worse. Someone could have gotten hurt.

Later in the day, I was telling the sound guy what happened, and I finished the story with the phrase "Hey, at least no one got hurt - they just have to pay for a light. It's only money after all."

The production manager was standing right next to me - she shot me a dirty look and said "Yeah, only money".

Well, it is.

Call time: 6 am.
Wrap time: 8 pm (they actually wrapped at 7, but it took us an hour to load our truck).

Why do I keep doing this?

I just said 'yes' to another low budget movie - it's the same gaffer as Danika, and a best boy who I've worked with before and think is one of the greatest guys in the world.

I guess that's why I said yes.

Even if the rate's bad (and it is - almost $10 per hour under union scale) and we get worked half to death, I'll have fun and get to hang out with a great bunch of folks.

That, and the movie shoots until the end of December (six weeks of steady work - even at a reduced rate - is a very, very good thing), and they'll let me jump off for a few days here and there if I get a few days on a better-paying show.

Hopefully, my previous statements about low budget shows won't be true this time.

I'll know tomorrow - I've got a 6 am call for our first day of shooting.

Boned by Fox Television!

I thought I'd been booked for three days on Bones second unit (and jumped off of the Fast and Furious 3 rig because I thought I'd make more money this way), only to have production cancel today's shoot late last night.

Damn. I turned down other work because I thought I was booked, and they cancelled so late at night that there was no way for me to pick up any work for today.

I really, really hate it when that happens.

How about The Slow and Slightly Miffed?

Somehow the dirtiest locations always look so innocent.

For the past two days, I've been wrapping a location on Fast and Furious 3.

A parking garage in a mall that's been closed for 10 years. How dirty could it be?

Really dirty. There was a fine film of black dust everywhere. We were pulling cable* through it all day (not to mention the Gators - which we were using to drive stuff back to the staging area - kicking up a dust storm every time they drove by). By lunchtime, the dust had coated us from head to toe, making us look like derelicts.

They were shooting car stunts in this location, so every now and then we'd find something that fell off one of the cars they were driving. A bumper, a headlight, part of a blown tire - all covered in dust, of course. Where the hell was it coming from?

On the way home last night, I stopped at the grocery store, where people tried not to look at me as I walked past in case I did something crazy. I saw one woman start to push her cart down the aisle I was standing in - then she saw me and backed up as quickly as she could.

What I really want to do when this happens is grab them by the lapels, shake them and yell "I'm a responsible tax-paying citizen just like you, motherfucker!"

What I actually do is sigh heavily, purchase whatever it is that I came in for, go home and shower - after which I look (and feel) solidly middle class again.



*heavy cable is wrapped by pulling it towards you into a coil at your feet, hence the term 'pulling cable'.