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Producing Under Chris Moore Conditions
When Chris Moore arrived in Chicago after the first day of principal photography, it felt as though the parents were getting home from a vacation, and the kids hadn't finished cleaning up the house from the party the night before.
To be sure, day one went relatively well for the cast and crew of "Stolen Summer." Yes, the El train was a bit of a disaster, and asking Pete to direct his young leads in a continuous dolly shot may have been an exercise in bad judgment.
But the day was made, and it was on to day two of the 25-day shoot. That night, however, Chris Moore arrived. Co-producer Jeff Balis and director Pete Jones sat down with Chris in the hotel room to give him a download of the day's events. Pete and Jeff jokingly recall how funny it was that a deafening El train came rumbling through their shots every five minutes, and how hysterical it was when the two young leads couldn't remember their lines with just a few minutes left in their day! What a riot!
Clearly, Chris Moore did not share their amusement. After hearing about the course of events, the producer looks at his wingman, Balis, and says, "That's good producing, Jeff. This is me looking at you, wondering what the f*ck were you thinking?"
Smiles fade. Dad just found beer bottles and cigarette butts in the backyard.
It was no surprise that Chris Moore arrived on set the next day with his guard up, perhaps a touch hypersensitive to the foibles of a shoot whose first day did not receive high marks for efficiency or preparation.
Others may feel that Chris was conveniently in town for a few days of shooting, just enough to stir the pot, let the crew know that Big Brother is watching, and jump back on a plane to Los Angeles to attend to more important matters.
So, you decide. Is Chris Moore the producer that the set of "Stolen Summer" needed, or was he a lot of noise that disrupted a team of competent minds from doing their job?
Any time the person who has the ability to fire you is standing over you and watching you do your job, you are likely to get nervous. And when an employee gets nervous or feels like they are under undue pressure, they are likely to make mistakes.
It does not help that Chris Moore is a mountain of a man, whose sheer physical size is enough to make a key grip keep his head down when the boss is around.
Add to that, Chris Moore is not one to choose silence as a means of communication, nor is he one to mince his words when it comes to expressing his frustrations.
Throughout his professional life, Chris has managed to find success, and those who have worked with him attribute it to his passion for his work, and his concern for detail. But piss him off, and you will know about it.
With Chris on set on that second day, there is no question that his troops were nervous. The process trailer was being set up for a shot of a moving a car, and there was concern that the camera would capture modern vehicles in the background. There was only one bathroom for an entire cast and crew at this particular location. The catering truck did not arrive on time, sending the crew into a "meal penalty," costing the production hundreds of dollars.
Is this bad producing, bad decision-making, or just bad luck? Probably a combination of all three, but it was enough to raise a red flag for Chris, and more than enough to make the big dog bark.
Victim Number One: Jeff Balis, a Chris Moore loyalist, and Chris's "eyes and ears" on set. How can there be only one bathroom for all these people? Figure it out now, or you will have some pissed off people, pun intended.
Victim Number Two: Bruce Terris, first AD, and point man of communication between director and crew. When lunch finally does arrive, the production has already incurred a meal penalty. Bruce assures Chris that his crew was ok with a delayed lunch, and that McDonald's was standing by if needed. Chris does not like this at all. If cheeseburgers were available, aren't those cheaper than a meal penalty?
Victim Number Three: Pat Peach, line producer, and the resident know-nothing know-it-all on set. How can we not anticipate the problems we have had with shooting in a moving car? Whose idea was it anyway? And isn't it your job to reign in your director who is understandably going to ask for overly ambitious camera set-ups?
Chris Moore is of the producing school that no problem is so small that it does not involve the producer. There are producers out there, very successful ones at that, who could care less about where the crew goes to the bathroom, or when the extras eat their lunch.
But producing is about accountability, Chris would tell Jeff, and having back-up plans is as much a part of the process as drafting your initial plan. Chris Moore is a man who aims to keep his crews happy, if that means bringing in a $2,000 bathroom fix for two hours, or buying an entire crew ice cream to tide them over until the caterer arrives.
Was Chris part of the solution in his few days in Chicago? Did he use his few days on-set wisely? Or was he playing the role of bad cop and leaving town shortly after?
Some would argue that Chris was not part of the day-to-day process where decisions were made based on available information. He merely jumped on someone if he did not like what he saw, without bothering to get the whole story.
No doubt, the "Chris Moore factor" stirred up this set, but at what cost?
Did "Stolen Summer" need this injection of professionalism and passion?
Or is Jeff Balis more accurate in calling Chris a "seagull manager, someone who flies in, makes a lot of noise, shits all over the place, and leaves?"
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