So there are plans and there are plans.
In the end, the script came out Saturday morning, 4AM. The first scene of the day started shooting at 11:30 after an 830 call time. My cat got me up around 6 which is when I downloaded, printed, and read the script a few times, making notes along the way. Then I went back to bed as my cat, fresh off his breakfast, roamed our neighborhood because, you know, cats.
When I was awake again, it was 8-ish and I was thinking how international spy movies (our genre being Spy/Espionage) establish their location hopping with elegant wide shots of cities around the world with text superimposed like ROME or LONDON or DUBROVNIK, CROATIA. Coming up on 830, then, I texted a suggestion to the director that, if there was time in the shooting schedule and he was so inclined, such an establishing shot would help us out.
An hour later, I receive a text from the director telling me another photographer—a professional colleague who, no kidding, arrived home from an Iceland shoot the previous night—was putting up a drone to get the shot.
Dang.
Two-thirty is when I got a heads up the first footage, Scenes 1 and 2, was coming my way. Half an hour later, that footage was copying onto my drives and I was taking my first look, then starting to piece the film's open together.
530 I get the following text:
Working on the fight scene. Things are going well.
730 the producer and director are on their way up with the remaining footage for Scenes 3 through 7. It's a brief visit I requested and they're kindly indulging me. You see, a production assistant would normally handle the drop but this one time, our second of these 48 Hour Film Projects I think, the director came over and he filled me in on what I should know based on what he'd accomplished that day. It's basically a conversation about his intent which was super helpful because I was about to craft his work into a short film. Knowing his intentions about what was shot makes for a handy mental guide I can't get any other way.
So it's a thing I ask for anymore.
Last night with the director and producer was similarly helpful especially since they changed the film's ending that very morning, an ending that's not reflected in the 4AM draft of the script. The new ending, by the way, is born of competing visions for the film's conclusion and an elegant solution involving both.
After pulling the new footage onto my drives and after the producer and director filled me in on the script's direction, the director asked if I had anything for them to look at.
"No." I said reflexively, sending them on their way because it'd been a long day for them and the first thing they should see was gonna be the first cut Sunday morning. This morning. They would need as much sleep as they could get, of course, but mostly...
They'd need fresh eyes.
They'd need to look at whatever I accomplished and know what to do next.
So they were done for the day. Saturday.
11:15 Sunday morning, the producer's back to start—
Okay, here's what happened with the first cut:
The set-up's too long. Which delays how long it takes to get to a tasty pay-off: the broom/umbrella fight, with actors who, in real life, actually know how to fight with swords.
Aside from that, the next two scenes were shot in one each without coverage. Great after you've cut the mother of all scenes and wanna sprint ahead. Not so great if you wanna make those scenes shorter. Which is why the producer showed up alone at 11:15. The director, on the other hand, had to collect a coupla the actors, return to location, and shoot the pickups we'd need to condense the second of those scenes. The first we'd shorten with an elegant solution that goes back to the early 1900's: dissolving to ease the passage of time.
So that's how we focused our afternoon: pulling as much out of the first cut as possible without compromising what the audience needs to know through dialogue and action.
Then, of course, we lengthened the fight scene. Which, you know, you know we did. ☺️
After that, polish polish polish. We went after every note, every doubt, every question, even trying out competing solutions, the better of which, by the way, was always obvious.
I'm convinced the schedule we've settled into, shooting on Saturday, editing the first cut Saturday afternoon until the weeeee hours of Sunday morning, then pick-ups, fixes, and relentless polishing Sunday until 3 or 4 is a winning schedule for us. It can definitely be exhausting... but it also packs a serious adrenaline rush when we zip up the movie file for delivery.
This year, for the first time, there were widespread problems with the upload process. We weren't the only ones, but it sure seemed like a ghost in the machine was trying to trip us but good at the finish line.
Eventually the decision was made to move the process down to Seattle where by 'n by, 'n by 'n by...
The upload completed and I received this text:
The film is in! Celebration time!
Which provoked all kinds of emotion for me
☺️😳🤯😁🥳😵💫🎉❤️👌
Oh, one last thing. Really, a wonderful moment.
On Saturday, the producer requested animated panels of the actors to precede the credits. It was the last element the designer crafted on Sunday afternoon. He put serious finishing touches on it while we kept poking at our nearly finished work in the edit suite.
Finally... he uploaded it from his end, I downloaded it on my end, and placed it in the timeline.
Now, keep in mind that this was the last element to go into our 48 Hour Film Project.
The final piece of PTAgent.
I wish I could share with you the surge of delight we experienced. That animation was the best thing ever, completely deserving of all the cheers and laughs and admiration we bestowed on it reflexively in that moment.
That moment was a gift, absolutely. The ribbon on top, as it were. Right there as we snapped this last piece of the puzzle into place.
Yeah. I won't lie
I dig this competition, this team, so hard.
God help me... I absolutely love it.
☺️
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So just picture this with the Catalina Diving Clowder's videos:
For the "establishing shot," imagine an aerial view of Avalon, the key town on Catalina Island, with the opening bars of "Twenty-Six Miles" by The Four Preps, vintage 1957, playing in background ... and we eventually move the camera in on "Bubbles," feline diver extraordinaire, leader of the Catalina Diving Clowder, and more or less narrator of said videos, introducing herself as much as the Clowder and the videos along Crescent Avenue, Avalon's main drag.
Or, if need be, with the Clowder on their diving pontoon in the waters off The Magic Isle preparing for another diving session feline. (Though on occasion, it might not be a bad idea to have one of the other members of the Diving Clowder hosting.)
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