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Frank Caridi - 2nd 2nd AD
I'm behind enemy lines, deep within the soft, porous underbelly of Hollywood: Santa Monica. Eleven days in LA and I've already penetrated the dragons' lair. I'm at the LivePlanet world headquarters, posing as friend and plotting subversion of the fascist Hollywood regime. But how? Spike the Evian? Hypnotize the personal fashion consultants into recommending plaid? Kidnap Chris Moore and ransom him off for a 24 hour "All Frank" network!?
Actually, I considered writing something very serious and controversial about the structure of American film production and the people who dominate the industry. My position as the comic relief of Project Greenlight compromises my ability to get into that stuff; a clown is only worthwhile when he's funny. (I'll bet the lovely web girls have posted the dorkiest picture of me they could find next to this column). So, without seeming too anxious to hop on my soapbox, I'll address what I feel is both right and wrong about film production in America, staying within the context of the events of the show.
I've said a few controversial things on Greenlight that I'd like to address. Yes, it's true: I really liked the movie "Ghostbusters" (Harold Ramis, if you're reading this, you can feel free to hire me at any time). It's also true that in absence of the caterer, I've offered to whittle a meal or sacrifice a PA to feast on his haunches. I've even been caught cursing unawares (sorry Grandma) about futile decisions to move motor homes, ONLY to move them right back again five minutes later (off camera, of course). You'd think, from what you see on television, that our production team, Christina, Bruce, Marie, the PA's and I, had a really tough time, and that we might have even wanted to quit. A few things to keep in mind here are that: 1) We've had it much, much worse before and 2) As long as we are on a team we respect, we will never, ever quit. Sure, I quit a show once when I was on someone else's team. They valued power more than filmmaking. That's the sort of thing that leads to abuse and politics, and that's what I will not tolerate. If I wanted a work environment like that, I'd have a regular job. The bottom line is that I am all about sound and picture. Put me with people who feel the same way and we'll work from here to Oklahoma. And let me tell you, people, I've been to Oklahoma.
The question now arises about "Stolen Summer," and where the Greenlight experience fits into all this. It was tough, and there were power struggles that detracted from the quality of the film, but it never seemed as bad as HBO is making it look. Producers bicker with one another; the boss will chew ass; first time directors will step on parts of their own anatomy, and yes: a lot of good people will let the pressure of a big Hollywood show like "Stolen Summer" bring out their worst on camera. Even so, it never got that bad.
Our biggest obstacle was, as Biagi refers to it, "the nature of the beast." Who is this beast, and why didn't we kick its ass? The answer, of course, is that we all agreed to live with it. "The nature of the beast" refers to the deal we made to take this job in the first place. "Stolen Summer" is a film production with two broken legs trying to crawl uphill...on camera. It's a big budget movie with little budget support. As freelancers, that's what we do. We sign a deal, accept its parameters, and then make our peace so we don't beat ourselves up over it. That's how we get the job done without regrets. We agree to trust that Miramax TV will be fair and true, and we trust that the producers will make decisions that don't kill us all. We agree to that, and we take responsibility for our choices.
Low Budget, My Ass: Confessions of a 2nd 2nd A.D.
"Stolen Summer" is not a low budget film. Don't let the fancy designer label fool you. This is a studio picture that's been savagely knee-capped. Riding on the back of our broken-legged film production, we have movie stars, studio politicking, ridiculous expectations, and Miramax TV (HBO).
Movie stars are generous to walk into our little film and offer their presence. Accommodating a star is important, and so we try as hard as we can to keep that star happy. The problem, of course, is that stars work for studios, and so they are used to protecting their interests above and beyond the completion of the film. In reality, when an actor looks gritty on a million-dollar film with 25 days to shoot, you shoot. You must always be shooting. Dealing with a studio, a star can wait till everything's pretty, burning precious daylight all the while. The waste of this is even more ridiculous when the star's character isn't supposed to look fresh all the time, anyway. That's all the more reason that you must always be shooting, and that's the huge difference between Miramax's "Stolen Summer" and reality.
Stars are earning potential. Sure, for crew, it's all about getting the picture done, but we should all care about the film earning money. It helps nurture the producer/crew trust when we all care about the film. It doesn't make the crew more money now, but in the grand scheme of things, it serves us all. Producers get a better product, and good crews get hired again.
A side note on the subject of stars: who cares where the latte comes from! We have barely enough man-power to make a movie. On a low budget show, that's where the man-power should go, not on the road for 45 minutes to Starbuck's. [Note to my new LA brethren: unlike my new home, the south side of Chicago DOES NOT have a Starbuck's on every corner!]
The people I met from Miramax seemed human. They even seemed nice. I was ready to drop what I was doing and hug Michelle Sy whenever I saw her, but, naturally, I resisted that urge. Having them as the backer of "Stolen Summer" was amazing because it got the film stars and it got the film an audience. Sponsors are great, too. Sam Adams, in particular, kept my department happy after hours, and I'm sure Miramax had a lot to do with securing them. The power struggles that came with the Studio, however, really hindered production. The whole Peach/Balis duel never would have happened if they weren't both dealing with Miramax. Also, Pete Jones's agony over going to Chicago wouldn't have happened if he had private backing. He simply would have had to buy a ticket to Chicago, hire locally, and stay with his freaking parents. He could have told his backer to meet him there while they ate Mom's PB and J and fought over 1976.
I even had a rough time with the studio on my lowly, suck-ass level because we weren't allowed to use interns unless they got school credit. WHAT? Marie and I can't hire more Production Assistants, and now we can't have free help, either? If no one worked for free on low budget films, we'd never have new blood in the business. Ask anyone how they got started, "You work for free, pal, and you learn all that you can."
That brings me to another side note on this topic: the crew rates on independent shows with budgets less than a million bucks are usually more generous. I guess that's why Miramax is a studio, and other people aren't. It's the nature of the beast, but sure, if they wanted me, I'd do it all over again in a heartbeat.
As we hobble along our uphill journey, let us now turn our attention to Miramax TV, a.k.a. the HBO crew. The first thing to note is that we were all jealous. They were better looking, better fed, and made more money. Their motorhomes were nicer, too. Aside from friendly jealous glaring, the HBO crew also made us act up a little. Certain producer-types would leap and caw and pose when a camera was around, but then I know a certain AD that spent much of his down time interviewing, dreaming, wishing he could have been on TV instead of having a real job.
Right, so, being on TV removed a lot of freedom we usually enjoy on low budget films. In short, we got away with less knowing that our low budget shenanigans might be broadcast on national television. On the upside, we were happy that after the series came out, at the very least, we could tell people what we do and not get such cock-eyed looks from non-film workers. After seeing the show, that hope is dashed. I still tell people I'm a 2nd 2nd AD, and they still ask me what the hell that is and why it isn't just called a 3rd AD. Oh well. Maybe PBS will step in one day and do it right. I'd watch that PBS version, but it might get lonely, ratings-wise. I have my complaints about the series, but don't get me wrong. I live for that show.
I'd like to leave the web readers with this: the Chicago crew never said it was the best. We're just on TV.
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