The Hills Are Burning

Are You Worth It?

2012-02-14T10:17:00.000-08:00

Sometimes I wonder if it's all worth it.

Sometimes I'll sit around and think about old friends who aren't in this business. The ones who seem happy getting engaged, getting married and having kids. The ones who have a steady, predictable job that lets them have a life when they want to instead of working all hours of the day.

Sometimes I'll think about the older guys I work with. The ones who've been in this business for decades and are still doing the same job they were when they started. Will I still be "just a juicer" twenty or thirty years down the line? Some of them seem content (for the most part) with where they are. They count down the hours left in the day until they can go home to their kids and understanding spouse.

But some of them have loved and lost. Divorced papers have been signed, child support has been paid, and "I get the kids this weekend" is what they're excited about come Friday night. Lovers and family have come and gone, but the only constant in their life is work. Sometimes I look at these men and wonder if I'll end up like them.

And I wonder, if it's all worth it.

People come from every corner of the globe with a sparkle in their eye, just begging for a chance to work in this business. And most of them get their asses handed to them. It's a tough town, but for some reason, I seem to be defying all odds and surviving. I'm making an okay living at it with no sign of slowing down.

But as we all know, things can change in an instant in this industry. What if this is as good as it's going to get for me? What if I never get to where I want to be in this business? What if I'm so busy trying to climb that ladder that I wake up twenty years from now and realize that I haven't gone anywhere. That life has passed me by because I was unwilling to give up a moment of work? Am I better off just bailing out now, get a regular 9 to 5 job and pop out some kids so I'd at least have something ten years down the line?

To get where you want to be professionally, I've been told that you need to put your head down and work hard. And in this crazy, fucked up business we're in and love, you're supposed to take every job that comes your way because you never know when the next one will come, and more importantly, you never know where it might lead. I've taken plenty of seemingly bullshit jobs over the years that have surprisingly ended up being some of the best decisions I've ever made for my career.

Right now, it seems like all I do is work. All I think about is work. Because, let's face it, besides the fact that I'm trying to work my way up as fast as possible, I love my job. I love this industry. I love what I do. Some of my co-workers may think of me as "boring" since I don't have any exciting hobbies to go home to over the weekend, but while they work to live, right now, I guess I live to work.

But a small part of me, just a tiny little piece, believes there's a chance that sometime in the future, I'll look around and realize I didn't make it. That I'm still doing the same job, only now I work to live instead of the other way around. That I sacrificed my youth for a dream that didn't pan out. That I've been so busy working on a go-nowhere career over the years that I forgot I was supposed to get someone to come home to.

And that I'll sit around and wonder, was it all worth it?

♥ Happy Valentine's, Y'all! ♥

Previously.

Fun With Non Sequiturs.

2012-02-07T19:57:00.000-08:00

From XKCD.

"Did you just feel that??"

I look at my colleague, who's now wide eyed, standing a couple feet away from me, wondering what the hell he's talking about.

"No... Feel what?"

"The ground shake!"

"No... Really?"

"I'm tellin ya, the ground just shook!"

Well, we are in California after all and the occasional earthquake is the price we pay for living in perpetual sunshine. Still, I was standing right next to the guy and hadn't felt a thing.

We both instinctively look at the ground, and I notice his foot's on a piece of 220v cable that's powering up the 20K light we had just set up. While such a thing isn't enough to make the ground tremor, there's enough current flowing through that cable to make it "hum" a bit, and you can definitely feel the vibration through your shoe if you're standing on it. I was just about to suggest to him that perhaps it was the cable he felt and not the earth moving, when he shushed me.

"Do you hear that?"

We both stand in silence for a moment.

Zzz...Zzzz...Zz...

It was faint, but it was a sound any juicer worth their salt would instantly recognize. The paddles connecting the cable to the light was arcing.* Easy fix. I just pushed the two connectors in more and the sound stopped.

"You didn't notice that before I pointed it out, did you?" asked my co-worker, in a somewhat accusing way.

"Huh?"

"That's something you should've noticed on your own if I wasn't here." His voice and body language now oozed with smugness. As if somehow, I had failed the test in detecting the non-threatening situation on my own and thank goodness he was here or else the whole building would've burned down and we would've had to stop shooting.**

At that point, I was completely confused on how this conversation turned such a sharp corner.

"No. I didn't notice it." Honesty. Yeah, let's try that for a second here. "I was more focused on wondering why you felt the ground shake."

That's when things got weird and he gave me a quizzical look.

"What are you talking about?"

"You said you felt the ground shake a second ago."

"No I didn't!"

Uh... WHAT???

He continued on. "But you didn't notice that loose paddle, did you?"

I stood there, even more confused than I was before, trying to figure out what the heck I could even say in a situation like this. But before my brain could even form the words, "You said you felt the ground shake!" the guy gave me look along with a "you better shape up" finger point as he walked away towards crafty.

The only thing I could do then was just stand there and wonder, "What the fuck just happened??"

*Long, electrical mumbo-jumbo short, the pieces of copper in the paddles weren't connecting properly, but electricity was still "jumping" from one connection to the other, which we call "arcing."

**Not all arcing on set is non-threatening, but this one was. The worst damage it could do if it was left like that for a long period of time is maybe wreck a replaceable paddle. Granted, it's much better if it was detected before that happened, but this was also on a show where we were basically disconnecting, moving, and reconnecting the cables every half hour or so, which doesn't leave much time for any damage to be done before it's repositioned again.

It Sucks When...

2012-02-02T16:41:00.000-08:00

... You're finally feeling super comfortable at your job now. You know the crew well and get along with everyone. The big, intimidating looking pieces of equipment you were once worried about handling, you're now making your bitch. You know your gear and know how to use it quickly, efficiently and almost effortlessly.

Basically, you get the feeling you're no longer considered to be "green" anymore and are slowly working your way to veteran status.

But then your boss, during a casual conversation, describes you as "new"... and your colleagues nod in agreement.

Damn. Talk about an ego check...

Hey, Dolly Grip...*

2012-01-26T11:39:00.000-08:00


From "Breathless" (1960)

Lighten up.

I'm sure that there's no doubt in your mind that your job is one of the more important ones on set and one of the hardest. You're responsible for the thing the camera is mounted on 99% of the time and it must be a bitch to maneuver it around a set full of director chairs, stands and piles of cable.

But you know what? Everyone thinks their job is the hardest/most important job on set. Yet if any one department is gone, all hell breaks loose. There'd be no set without an Art Department; no place to shoot without Locations; no trucks without Transpo; nothing to see without lighting; etc, etc. Which goes to show, EVERY job is important so just get the fuck over yourself and stop acting like an entitled douche.

Yeah, I get that while you're trying to lay down a piece of dance floor, it can be a pain the ass when people keep accidentally stepping on it. But look around you. Is the set tinier than two parking spaces? Is your plywood taking up every inch of available floor? Then guess what? You're gonna have to just deal with it. Just like I have to deal with moving my already-perfectly-placed-light out of the way every three minutes for another cart that's trying to squeeze in the room or (ahem) your dolly. Acting like a diva and throwing a hissy fit every time there's a new footprint on your dance floor isn't helping.

And on that note, can you try to be considerate? Yeah, pieces of track and plywood can be heavy and awkward to carry, but is that any reason for you to come plowing at me with them with no intention of stopping?? Believe me, the last thing I want to do is get in your way when you're carrying that shit, but if it's a crammed set, I can't exactly dodge out of the way as quickly as you'd like me to (especially if you don't announce that you've got "points" coming though. I don't have eyes in the back of my head, but I do have ears). Sorry if those of us with job titles that are beneath you can't part like the Red Sea fast enough for you, but that's no excuse to come charging at us full speed with a "get the fuck out of my way" scowl on your face.

And maybe you can show us the same courtesy that you expect from us "unimportant" people? For example, the other day when I was carrying that super heavy light (plus a stand!) that's bigger than I was and the only way for me to get to where I needed to go was to step over the dolly track you were leveling? Would it have killed you to stop leveling the damn thing for two seconds so I could pass by without body checking you with the bottom of the stand? Could you really have not just let that wedge sit on the floor untouched for just a tiny moment longer? Did you really have to keep gently nudging it with your toe while I stood there with a really heavy light, patiently (as much as possible anyway) waiting for you to finish so you could step aside and finally let me through?

No? Well, fuck you then.

Every department has to make concessions for everyone else and not one of us is more important than the other. We've all got our own jobs to do and you can give us all the dirty looks and eye rolls you want, but we can't stop working just because you'd like a roving six feet radius of clear space around you, the dolly and your carts at all times. It's not all about you. It's about us.

And the more we work together, the faster we'll be able to shoot and the sooner we'll be able to wrap and go home. So please stop being a dick about everything.

* More specifically, the asshole Dolly Grip I worked with for a few days. Which is odd, since they're usually some of the nicest guys I'll meet on set. Also, shout out fo D from Dollygrippery who is definitely not in the asshole category.

I Find It Interesting When...

2012-01-21T17:21:00.000-08:00

... you get a job offer that you would've jumped for joy about two years ago, but now the thought of working on a show like that again makes you kind of cringe...

Think Before You Leap, Part 2.

2012-01-16T11:00:00.000-08:00


Definitely a recommendation fail...

It was well into December and the flow of work I'm getting was showing no signs of slowing down. I found it odd as I remember being lucky to get a weeks worth of work around this same time last year and now I was struggling to find a free day just to do some holiday shopping. I chalked it up to my good fortune and timing.* I just happened to get hooked up with some shows that usually needed a few day players and weren't wrapping until dangerously close to Christmas. However, based on the number of other calls I was getting and couldn't take, I figured I wasn't the only one riding a good wave until the end of the year.

But apparently, the season's good tidings wasn't hitting everyone and a friend of mine casually mentioned that he wasn't working and didn't have anything lined up in the foreseeable future. Which I guess seemed normal to him given that this time of year isn't usually known as a busy time in our business, but it struck me as a bit odd since he's almost always working.

So when a guy I knew called me up to see if I was available when I wasn't, I told him that I knew someone who was. "Yeah, sure," he said. "I'm desperate. Have him give me a call and I'll bring him on tomorrow." Sweet. Not only had I helped him fill a spot when he was having trouble finding someone, I had also helped a friend gain employment. Double points for me! Yay! I like being helpful!

But oh, if only the story ended there.

A week or so later, I get a call from the guy again, asking if I was available. I wasn't, but while I had him on the line, I decided to ask him how it worked out with my friend the other day. Unfortunately, his response was less than fantastic.

"Uh... So how well do you know the guy?"

Oh shit... That's never a good sign.

"Um... I know him fairly well," I answered truthfully, yet somewhat vaguely in a thinly veiled attempt to distance myself from the guy. I knew something bad was coming. "We've only worked with each other a few times, but we kind of run in the same circles."

"Oh, okay. Well, the guy not only got into a shouting match with the UPM, but he also re-organized my carts in a bizarre way and had trouble following basic instructions. And not only that, but it turns out that some of the other guys here had worked with him before and not everyone that knew him has had a pleasant experience."

Fuck. From his initial tone, I was expecting a bad review, but definitely not this bad. After a moment of stunned/awkward silence, I realized that there wasn't much I could do now but apologize profusely and try to save my own ass.

"Wow... I'm super sorry. I've never had a problem working with him before. I've recommended him to other crews a few times in the past and it's always worked out. He works on some pretty big stuff and I figured it'd be a good idea for the two of you to meet. Yadda yadda. I'm so sorry. Yadda yadda. Thanks for telling me about this. Yadda. Again, sorry."

I couldn't believe that this guy had fucked up so badly. I mean, I guess I knew what kind of a perfectionist he could be, but I saw that more as a positive than something that would drive him to re-organize a cart full of equipment that wasn't his. And maybe I could even let the lack of following instruction thing slide. Despite him being a veteran of the biz, I can vouch that it can be pretty confusing for a new day player working on an unfamiliar set with an unfamiliar crew, no matter how seasoned you may be. But the biggest part of the SNAFU Trifecta was the yelling at the UPM. Yes, they can be unreasonable, power-tripping, egotistic dicks, but yelling at one is definitely a bad idea; especially if you're a new day player. And ESPECIALLY if you're there based on a recommendation. It's always been a rule in my book that if you're on a job because someone pulled some strings, it means that person has put their reputation on the line for you, and therefore, you better damn well put your best foot forward or at the very least be on your best behavior. Douche bag UPM or not, there was no excuse for what that boy did.

And now, not only did I have to apologize to the Best Boy, but I'm also set up with the awkward task of defending my (apparently poor) decision to send him his way. In no way did I want him leaving the conversation thinking I just blindly sent an asshole to his crew. I wanted him to know that I really did think it'd work out between them and I had actually thought it out instead of just giving him the name of the first guy I knew was available. In other words, I was scrambling to save any kind of credibility I still had with the guy.

Luckily, he seemed to be pretty cool about it.

"Don't worry about it, A.J.," he said, with a slight chuckle that let me know he wasn't taking the incident too seriously. "Yeah, I had some apologizing to do on his behalf, but it's all good here now. Anyway, it's a shame you're not available to come play with us tomorrow but maybe next time."

We said our goodbyes and ended the conversation. It's good to know that while he may never take a recommendation from me ever again (no matter how desperate he may be), at least I still have a solid enough of a reputation with him that he'll still call me for work.

But the other guy? You can bet I'll think twice before throwing his name in the hat again.

*Or perhaps it's a side effect of union negotiations coming up. I hear Producers are trying to shoot everything they can in case another stalemate occurs.

Farewell 2011.

2012-01-09T07:50:00.000-08:00

I don't know about you, but going home for the holidays is usually bittersweet for me. Sweet because I get to see and spend time with family members that I only see once a year, and bitter because, well, I have to spend time with family members that I only see once a year.

But this year was especially bitter. A lot has happened in my large family in the past twelve months, and especially to the dozens of cousins that make up my family peer group. First houses have been bought, grad schools have been attended, impending baby arrivals have been announced, world travelers have come home for the first time in years, wedding proposals have been made, etc, etc. And all these are joyous occasions, of course. I'm not disputing that.

What made this year's annual visit such a thorned pill to swallow was that I had a pretty momentous year as well, and no one aknowledged it. No one understood. No one realizes how rare it is for a female my age to work on the shows that I've been on this year. No one recognizes the names of those who've I've had the pleasure to work for; the leaders in their fields and the fact that I got to meet, let alone work for them, have painted my L.A. friends green with envy. None of them know that I do things like work with high voltage and ride condors. They all enjoy listening to music, but none of them know I worked with that band they're enjoying on a music video. And that commercial that's playing on the T.V. in the background? Yeah, I had a hand in that as well.

But none of them know that. None of them asked what this year was like for me. I was lost among the shuffle. I was pushed aside as relatives scrambled to get closer to those with the more relatable news of upcoming weddings and stories from abroad.

And it's not that I was jealous of all the attention the others were getting. I'll be the first to admit that their news is understandably bigger than mine. But a handful of family gatherings later, everyone was still gushing over the same people they were a few weeks ago as I sit idly by with a cup of cider in my hand. And to top it all off, most of the conversations I did manage to have with Aunts and Uncles involved them saying things like how brave so-and-so was for traveling on their own. Or how smart my cousin was for installing his own sound system in his new house. And throughout their boasting, I'd politely smile and nod in agreement, but in my own head, I'd be thinking, "Oh yeah? Forget traveling solo on your thirties. Try moving on your own to a place you don't know in your early twenties with no money, because that's what I did." "Installing a home speaker is nothing. I'm in charge of putting in high voltage cable runs to power hundreds of people on a daily basis." But I'd hold my tongue.

I definitely understand that in this world, very few people know how a movie is made, and even fewer know what a bitch it is to make a sustainable living off of it. But damn it, I had a motherfuckin fantastic year and it sucks that I can't share my news with family because they'll never get it. The stories of my struggles and success will fall on unsympathetic ears as their eyes glaze over and search for a more "accomplished" family member to latch on to.

And I know I've touched on this topic before. But for whatever reason, this year's neglect seemed much more prominent, and I must admit, I've never been so glad to be back in L.A.

Video Break.

2012-01-05T15:26:00.000-08:00

I'm working on a few posts, but they're definitely still works in progress and no where near ready to share with you guys, so in the meantime, here's a video I found that I really enjoyed.

What does it have to do with the film biz? Well, I could talk about how it just fucks with your mind about what's real (shot on set) and what's not (CGI), just like a lot of movies do these days. I could talk about how such a seemingly simple video with such a seemingly simple concept can be one of the hardest to pull off. I could even go all film school on your ass and say something about how the creators turn a two-dimensional image into a three-dimensional one, but woah, wait a second, you're watching a two-dimensional image all along (I think it's safe to assume your monitor's flat.) and even throw in a reference to this "classic."*

But whatever. It's short, entertaining, and I think it's kinda cool.

Happy New Year, you guys!

*Apparently, it wouldn't be the first time.

Happy Holidays.

2011-12-22T22:21:00.000-08:00

As previously mentioned, I've been ridiculously busy lately and haven't had time to update this blog as much as I'd like to. I really wanted to end this year with a super awesome, thought provoking and life changing post, but I could never find the time to sit down and churn out a fluff piece, let alone one that required deep thinking.

And as the days went on and the holidays drew nearer, it seemed like my To Do list kept getting longer while time was running out, and I ended up even more stressed out that I've ever been. Sisyphus had nothing on me; the my rock was bigger, my hill steeper, and I had more of them.

Eventually, I kinda stopped for a sec and realized that it's almost Christmas. Call me a Hallmarkien if you must, but I love this time of year. All the twinkly lights, the shopping, the food... I enjoy it all. Only, this year, it was passing me by and I was miserable.

So to put me back in a non-Grinchy spirit and back on a cheery one, I'm taking this blog off my To Do list until after the New Year. As much as I love writing these posts, they take more time and effort to put together than you may realize and the rest of this year is rapidly slipping away from me.

And 2011, despite it being a world wind of one surprise after another, was very good to me, and I want to be able to enjoy what's left of it.

I hope this year was a good one for all of you as well.
I hope 2012 will be an even better one.
I hope you find that perfect answer to the "What do you do?" question you get as you make the holiday party rounds this year.
I hope you are all spending time with your family, whoever it may be.
But most of all, I hope you guys have a very Merry Christmas and a spectacular New Year!

I'll see you all back here in 2012.

Sometimes...

2011-12-15T23:30:00.000-08:00

... I'm amazed at how much a co-worker will carry around on his tool belt: various kinds of tape (and colors!), multiple meters and testers, wrenches, screwdrivers, a knife, a multi-tool, a flashlight, a headlamp, several different kinds of markers, two sets of gloves, cotter pins, a laser pointer, a water bottle, cube taps, wire nuts, pieces of zip cord and connectors, C-47s, etc...

And yet they consistently ask to borrow a pen.

I'm even more amazed at how often that happens.

Riding High In April, Shot Down In May...

2011-12-11T07:46:00.000-08:00

"Wrap, wrap, wrap!"

The familiar end of the night call over the walkie reminded me of a quacking duck. My colleagues and I share a surprised look and we all check the time. Today's work was ending around 6pm, well before the standard 12 hours from call that we've all come to expect.

Yay!

Then the P.A.s make their usual end of the night rounds and pass out call sheets for the next day, and with one glance at them, we suddenly realize the reason for our good fortune: we have a 5am call tomorrow.

Aww....

But a 5am call tomorrow means that we'll wrap before sundown, and it's always a good thing when you get to enjoy even just a little bit of daylight off the clock.

Yay!

Then we read further down the call sheet until we get to the location address. And damn, it's pretty far out there.

Aww...

But on the bright side, a bumfuck early call time means no traffic in the morning!

Yay!

But on the down side, that means we'll be hitting traffic on the way home. So much for enjoying the daylight...

Aww...

My eyes wander even further down the page and see that the day after next pretty much as us on the same kind of schedule.

Ya- Aww.....

You Can't Help But Feel A Little Smug When...

2011-12-03T10:50:00.000-08:00

... December is traditionally a time when the town slows down for the "Holiday Hiatus" but you're still steadily getting calls to day-play on various shows. And you can't help but feel just a liiittle bit smugger when you know people who have been in this business longer than you have who are getting bupkis.*

* Of course, having said this, I probably jinxed myself for the next few months.

Happy Thanksgiving!

2011-11-24T08:24:00.000-08:00

It's been a crazy couple of weeks lately as I made an attempt to balance work stuff, personal stuff, and upcoming holiday stuff. And if my current schedule is any indication, I can expect the same kind of chaos as we head into December, only kicked up a few notches.

Yikes.*

Which means that I'm going to be lazy and re-post something I wrote a few years ago.

But hey, at least it's (kind of) Thanksgiving related! With an update at the end!

Friday, November 7, 2008
Already Thinking About Thanksgiving...
My mom called me today.

"So you'll be home on Tuesday, right? Because I just made a dentist appointment for you for the 26th."

Yeah, that was how the convo started. Mom's not big on pretext.
Meanwhile, I was caught off guard and didn't even know what to say. Probably because I hadn't even thought about when I'd be making the trek back home and was trying to figure out if she had gotten the date from something I've said or if she just made it up.

Anyway, after the conversation ended and I hung up the phone, I started thinking and counting back the months. I haven't been home since last January for New Years, making this the longest I've been away for. I usually at least pop in for a visit once or twice a year but I guess this year's been harder because of the lack of work.

It used to be that I'll have a month or two booked up and I'd drive up and spend some time with the folks before things got super busy. But now that I no longer have the luxury of knowing when I'll get my next paycheck, I'm pretty much stuck staying in town since most of my money these days have been from random last minute gigs, which can be kind of a bummer.

And now, for the first time that I can remember, I'm actually looking forward to going home. I mean really looking forward to it. And that is what I'll be thankful for this Thanksgiving.

Three measly years later, and oh my, how times have changed...

This year is the longest I've gone without popping in to visit the parentals. Nearly a year will have gone by before I see my old stomping ground again, only this time, the lack of work isn't to blame.

Rather, it's the opposite. I've been working rather steadily this year (for a change!), which means that whatever time off I got between gigs was only long enough for me to catch up on all the stuff that I couldn't get to when I was busy. Not a bad problem to have, I suppose, but it's definitely a far cry from the situation I was in back in 2008.

I'm still never sure when I'll get my next paycheck, but I at least have somewhat of an idea of where it'll come from these days. And that's a big difference. And when I do get a check in the mail, it's definitely more than what I was getting paid back then. I guess that means I'm moving up in the world?

Anyway, I wanted to take this time to wish you all a
Happy Thanksgiving!

May it be filled with turkey induced comas and a side of pie.

* I hope you enjoy this post because it might be a little while before I around to writing another one.

It's Upside Down!

2011-11-21T22:46:00.000-08:00

Hey, whoever set the light for this shot:

You're doing it wrong.

You Know It's Cold Season When...

2011-11-17T14:18:00.001-08:00

...Every "cut!" is followed by a chorus of coughs.

And on that note...

That's how you're supposed to cough and sneeze, especially when you're around others.

Using your hands to cover your coughing and sneezing is just plain gross and passes your germs onto your co-workers.

Be considerate of others and let's all keep healthy this season!

Be Careful What You Wish For.

2011-11-13T22:04:00.000-08:00

Long after the bad day ended.
Long after all the anger and aggression faded away.
Long after the pity party wrapped...

I finally got the call for that 4/0 job I was craving for a week ago.
Two of them, actually.
And both in the rain.

Of course...

Know The Rules.

2011-11-07T16:23:00.000-08:00

This post was a long time coming...

One important thing any freelance (and non-union*) grip, electric, camera person, set dresser, wardrobe, make-up, sound, P.A., etc, etc, should know is how to protect themselves when it comes to employer/employee relations. This is ESPECIALLY important if you're a Best Boy and/or in charge of a department since all the underlings will most likely turn to you when they have problems and questions regarding what's legal, what's not and what's the norm. You're the first line of protection against the dirty, evil, low budget "passion project" producers and what you tell them now is what they'll likely be telling others on the next job they're on. But ultimately, each person is responsible for themselves, because please believe me when I say that nobody knows anything.**

Case in point: everyone I know that started out in the nitty gritty non-union world has, at one point or another, had trouble getting paid. When I first started out in this biz, I was told again and again by various colleagues that employers had up to thirty days to pay, no matter what they may have promised you. Even if they say at the end of the night, "We'll mail out the checks Monday morning," and you don't get one in your mail box until three weeks later, you can't complain because they're still within the thirty days. I have no idea how, where or when this "common knowledge" started circulating, but it's accepted as "fact" by many of us in the non-union world and thus probably spread as so.

But guess what? That's absolute bullshit! Sure, I've had countless Best Boys, Gaffers, fellow grips and juicers all tell me the same thing over the years, but now I challenge any of them to find anything about a thirty day pay grace period rule in California labor law.*** At most they have two weeks. And if they're late, you're entitled to a "waiting time penalty." Aka: Your rate for every day it's late, up to thirty days.

That's a drastically different outcome than the "you'll just have to sit and wait for a month before you're paid" speech most of us have accepted as truth. It was a very rude awakening for me when I found out that what my colleagues and I had believed for so long was so false. It was like if you had avoided some really good food all your life because your parents told you you're allergic to nuts, only to find out that you're actually not. And sadly, that's only one of the many false "truths" out there that most non-unioners have accepted as "fact."

Some other things every non-union freelancer in this biz should know but generally don't?

- Meal penalties. You're entitled to them.

- Minimum wage. You're entitled to that too.

- Overtime? That depends.

Which leads me to...

READ YOUR FUCKING DEAL MEMO and KNOW WHAT THE FUCK YOU'RE SIGNING.

Some of them will say shit like "Employee agrees to work for a rate of $100/day." To them, that means you'll work for that much money no matter how long the "day" is, which sucks big time if they're prone to doing 16-18 hour days. Cross that last part out and write "$100 / 12 hours" (or whatever it is you agreed to before you came to work.) and remember to get a signed copy. Speaking of, negotiate that shit before you show up and for the love of puppies, get it in writing. It could be in a text message (just don't delete it or lose your phone), but I think e-mail is better. I usually send them something along the lines of, "Totally excited about the job! Just wanted to clarify the rate. It's $xxx for 12 hours, right?" And include anything that involves money: gas and/or mileage reimbursement, equipment rental, etc. Having it in writing has saved my ass countless times. Whenever there's a discrepancy, it's always great to be able to show the parties involved exactly what was agreed upon.

And while we're on the topic of wages, know how to calculate them! If you agree to work for $100/12 hours, what's your hourly rate? Hint: it's not $8.33, which is what most people think it is (100 divided by 12). It's $7.14 because the first eight hours of the day is straight time, plus time and a half for every hour after that... And not including lunch because that's technically unpaid. Why is this important? Well, first off, $7.14 is below California minimum wage. Secondly, double that and you'll get your hourly rate for if/when you hit overtime.****

Use this information to your advantage. I'm not saying to throw down a lawsuit every time one of these rules are broken (and we all know they get broken all the time and we let it slide... but that's another post for another time) because let's face it, you'll spend more time filling out claim forms than actually working. But feel free to bring them up at the appropriate time. If Production wants you to work without paying OT, you can bring it to their attention that you had already "overlooked" the fact that they didn't give you a meal penalty. If they want you to drive out to a middle of nowhere location without paying you anything for gas, feel free to bring up the fact that you agreed to accept a rate that's under minimum wage. Just knowing that you have some rights and protections will make you feel more empowered and less likely to be bullied (too much) by a production.

And on that note, Production might throw a few punches of their own, like...

- "Those rights don't apply to you because you signed a 1099 and therefore aren't an employee." Again, call bullshit. You can fill out as many 1099 forms as they'd like you to. But guess what? That doesn't make you an Independent Contractor. The Labor Commission doesn't care if you signed one or not. What matters is whether or not you fall into the category of one, and the tricky part about that is that there's no set guidelines. But just like Production can argue that you are one, you can just as easily argue that you aren't. (Does Production provide you with the equipment? Yes. Are you allowed to take breaks whenever you want? No. Is your work performed under supervision? Yes. Hm... That kinda sounds like you're an employee to me...)

- "This isn't a union show. Meal penalties and overtime doesn't apply to us." Wrong again. I always find this argument ironic since the Department of Labor has all these laws about meals, overtime, pay schedule, etc, for pretty much everyone but those who are working under a Union contract.

- "You obviously haven't been in this business very long. This is how we do things." This is a fun one to flip around and throw back at them, because if they're paying they're crew late or not feeding them on time, they obviously haven't been doing this for very long. Besides, just because "this is the way we do things in this business" doesn't mean it's legal.

- "Our client hasn't paid us yet for the project so we don't have the money to pay you right now." From the Labor Commision: "Inability to pay is not a defense to the failure to timely pay wages."

- "This is a small town and people talk. I can make it so you'll never work in this town again." They all pull this card when they've got nothing left and are grasping at air. But just think about it for a second. Most of the time, you're hired by a Best Boy, Gaffer, Key Grip, DP or some other department head. Not a Producer. Do you think your bosses are going to listen to a snot nosed "Producer" who tried to screw you over? No. And if the Producer is a somebody, I guarantee you that they're not going to waste time broadcasting to their entire contact list that they're breaking all kinds of laws. And if they're stupid enough to do that, there are very few Producers who'll scrutinize every name on the call sheet of their next shoot anyway, just to blackball some "nobody" they've never met.

Again, I'm not saying to file a claim against every Production you don't like, but know your rights. And most of all, follow your instincts. I've let a majority of these violations slide in my time because I felt like the connections being made and experience was worth the sucky-ness and I was okay with that. Or I saw that Production was really trying hard to do right by the crew. Or the infringement was so slight that it wasn't worth my time to pursue it. Or I was really there as a favor to a friend more than anything else. Or I was just really tired. Or holy shit, who cares if they want to sneak an extra half hour of overtime from us when they're paying me 3x my normal rate? Whatever the reason, I didn't feel the need to "rock the boat."

But there have been once or twice where I walk onto a job and I know it's going to be hell. I know they're never going to call me for a job again and/or I wouldn't come back even if they doubled my rate. The kind where they're so unprofessional about everything that you know you're going to have a problem getting paid before lunch is even called (if it's called at all). In those extreme cases, I start to collect paper. I make sure I have a copy of my deal memo. A copy of the call sheet. A copy of my (signed by all parties) time card. A copy of any schedule they may have. Anything. Everything. And I make sure to still do my job as professionally as possible. That way, if/when my check doesn't come, I have everything I need to file a claim against them, prove my case, and serve them a nice slice of legal whoop ass.

The bottom line is that there's a lot of misinformation out there about what Production is allowed to do to us and interestingly enough, a lot of that misinformation is geared towards us below-the-liners getting the short end of the stick. I've learned these lessons the hard way, and this is just the tip of the iceberg. But I know that in this harsh reality that is freelancing in the non-union world, no one's looking out for me but myself, so I better damn well know the rules and play the game smart. And not only do I now know how to protect myself better, but this information empowers me to protect the crew working below me as well. After all, no one likes working under someone who lets Production push them around.

So now you know, and knowing is half the battle.

* If you're in a Union, your Union rep would be the one you'd turn to for all this.

** Myself included. I could be totally wrong in this post. In all my posts. YMMV. Blah blah blah. Disclaimer. Blah blah. Quote me at your own risk. Do your own damn research.

*** If you're working in another state, this stuff may not apply to you. But the "do your own research" lesson still stands.

**** Check with Production first. I've had some luck on a show or two where they accepted the first method when determining my hourly rate, which meant 1) they probably weren't trying to nickel and dime me and 2) I get a better deal in overtime.

Therapy.

2011-11-02T20:37:00.000-07:00

Photo courtesy of the 728 website.

Most experienced electricians, young or old, generally avoid working with 4/0 if possible. It's a monster beast of a cable, weighing in at about a pound a foot. Wrapping a hundred foot piece of it will make any man sweat, let alone someone like me who barely weighs more than the coil of copper to begin with.

But today, I craved it.

I had a string of disappointments lasting about a week long, and yesterday's was the final straw. I won't get into the details of what happened, but by the end of the day, I was feeling dejected. And suddenly, I was re-living all those rejections and disappointments not only of the past week, but of my entire professional career. The assholes who didn't think I knew anything. All those times I've been accused of being hired because of my looks. All those times I've been denied work because of them. The kind looking man who ran the crew for a big show, telling me that I'd never make it in g/e because I'd never be "one of the guys." The scruffy looking old timer who'd tell me the same thing a few years later. All those times I've been called "lazy" and "useless" despite giving them my all...

All those voices and more just came flooding back at once; those memories filling my head like a bad song you can't stop humming.

You hear shit like that enough times and you start to wonder if it's true. You wonder if it's possible for all those people to be wrong. You start to wonder what the fuck you're doing in this town. You start to wonder what'll happen if you don't make it. You start to ask yourself why are you fighting so hard. Is it worth it? Are they right? Am I strong enough? What if I'm not? What will become of me?

It was feeling angry and confused and disappointed all at the same time. I was feeling all those things and more towards the people I was working with. At the situation. At no one in particular. At myself.

Honestly, I didn't know what I was feeling anymore. I know I just felt shitty.

I woke up this morning with those thoughts and voices still swirling around in my head. I was re-living every heart chrushing moment of it all. Again and again.

It's days like these I hope I get called for a 4/0 job.

Where it's no one but you and miles of cable that need to be wrapped. No need to pay attention to where your Gaffer is on the set. Or chasing around video village with a stinger. No making small talk with other departments. No sitting still in a corner while you wait for the next set up.

Just. Cable.

Best of all, you don't have to think. Once you get the hang of it, wrapping a piece of cable is nothing but a fluid, rhythmic motion. You pull with one hand as the other guides it into a neat coil. The only thing you need to concentrate on is how fast you're going and the size of your loops, and you're usually going at such a speed that nothing else but that occupies your mind. Meanwhile, with every length of cable you pull; every loop you make; every finished coil you tie up,* comes with a bead of sweat and somehow, all those bad thoughts that are swimming around in your head slowly ooze out of your pores. And all that anger and frustration you felt just hours ago evaporates with it.

It's cathartic.

And after a long day of nothing but cable, you go home tired as hell, but in a good way. All your aggressions have been worked out. You feel more at peace somehow. And the best thing is, negative thoughts no longer occupy your mind because all you can think about now is how badly you want a shower and start the next day fresh and clean...

Oh, how I long for a 4/0 job right now...

* That's usually as far as I'll go with it by myself.

Flashing.

2011-10-29T23:52:00.000-07:00

Listen up, you motherfucker. You're an amateur. You've never worked on a real set your entire life. You wanna know how I can tell? Because you gave me shit every time I asked you to call out "flashing"* when you used your camera.

The fact that I even had to remind you shows how little experience you have. But that, I forgave and even took the time to explain to you why such a small gesture has such a big impact on my department. The fact that you still rolled your eyes every time I asked you to call it out? That shows me how little respect you have for the jobs of others.

And for future reference, if by some miracle, you find yourself on another set, you're supposed to say "Flashing!" loudly, right before you use it, every time you use it.

Tapping me on the shoulder and saying, "Hey A.J. I just wanted to let you know I'm going to be using my flash in a few minutes," all while giving me snide look is not the proper way to do it.

Amateur.

*Some departments (ie: make up, wardrobe, set dressers, etc) often take flash photographs on set. It's customary for them to call out "Flashing!" before snapping a photo because a camera flash looks very similar to a bulb blowing out. If you want to be mean, go ahead and use the flash on your camera without calling it out, and watch the electricians suddenly looking up at all the lights, wondering WTF that just was.

Hmm... This Sounds Familiar...

2011-10-25T14:53:00.000-07:00

Only reversed... And more awesome.*

(I don't know how to make this a more readable size and still have it fit in the Blogger allotted space, so here's the original link.)

*If you don't know what I'm talking about, then count yourself lucky that you haven't spent much time looking for work on Craigslist or Mandy.com.

The Paradox Of 4/0.

2011-10-20T14:28:00.000-07:00

On the first day of a new crew, we were laying out cable. When it came to putting down the first stick of 4/0, my seasoned coworkers promptly came to my side, gave me a mini lecture about how I should never pick up a coil of that stuff on my own (a rule a whole-heartedly agree with) and we continued our work by double-teaming the cable each time a coil needed to by lifted.

A couple days later, the job ended and I never heard from the Best Boy again. After running into a former colleague, I heard that the reason I never get called to work with that particular crew is because the Best Boy didn't think I could "handle the work." (Read: "I wasn't able to lift a coil of 4/0 by myself.")

Sometime later, I'm on another crew. We're counting in the cable. We get to the 4/0 and I ask my partner, who's been in this business for a long time, if we could two-man the hundred pound coils. He gives me a look and says he'll just do it himself. It's just easier that way. So I sit back, let him do his thing, and eventually, I'm assigned to other, non-cable related tasks.

Sometime after that, I find myself on another new crew peppered with seasoned veterans of the business. One of the "old timers" and I start chatting while we wait for the next shot and we land on the topic of putting in a cable rig. The first thing he says to me about it? "Don't you EVER pick up a stick of 4/0 by yourself." Again, I wholeheartedly agree.

But inside, I'm thinking, "If only it were that simple..."

It's one of those things where I feel like I'm in a no-win situation. If I lift it by myself, I fuck up my body and possibly my future in the biz. If I don't, I lose out on work. And while no job is worth the damage you could to do yourself, I also have a reputation on the line. Best Boys don't go around saying, "I never saw her lift a hundred feet coil of 4/0 by herself. She always had a second hand on it." Instead, they go around saying stuff like, "She couldn't handle the work load" or "She always needed help." That's a big difference.

And even if I'm on a crew where my colleagues are telling me that we should never handle the stuff by ourselves, that view may not necessarily be shared by our boss and vise-versa.

I'm damned if I do and damned if I don't.

A Pet Peeve.

2011-10-16T21:07:00.000-07:00

Okay people, listen up.

"Electrocuted" means that you died from an electrical shock.

So if you're telling a story and you say something like, "I brushed my hand against the stupid bus bar on the generator and got electrocuted" you're lying. Yes, bus bars on a genny are generally stupid.* But unless you dropped down to the ground, your heart stopped and were declared legally dead, you weren't electrocuted.

You were just shocked.

So to recap: You may use the word "electrocuted" if you (or the person you're talking about) died. Otherwise, you were just shocked.

Please remember that and use the term properly.
Thank you.

*I've rarely seen them used and the placement of them in generators are stupid, in my opinion.

Hitting Pause.

2011-10-09T14:42:00.000-07:00

I was invincible.

Hopping from show to show, a day here, a day there. I was on about as many different shows as there are days in the week. Such is the life of a day player. But this time, not only was the money rolling in pretty decent, I was also on a winning streak.

The calls I'd get were a mix of old friends and new contacts; each day was either filled with familiar faces or new friends. And just when I thought I'd finally get a day or two off, my phone would ring again with a new offering. It was busy and I loved it.

And each shoot was different. Commercials, features, music videos... Valley, studio, downtown... Call times at morning, noon, night...

It was hectic at times. It was often sleepless. And I was having a lot of fun.

Bouncing from crew to crew, from set to set, proving myself to the new crews and holding my own with the old ones, pushing myself to take the next job and do just as well on it. I was proud of myself. I was proud that I had built up enough of a reputation that my phone kept ringing. I was proud that I kept giving 100% to each job despite still being tired from two days ago. I was proud that where so many others would've taken the weekend off to recover from the craziness, I just kept on truckin. I felt like I was unstoppable.

And then, one morning, that all stopped.

I woke up feeling more tired than usual and my throat felt like it was on fire. I tried to shake it off. I went to work anyway, hoping that this crummy feeling I had would disappear as the day wore on; as I was distracted by cable runs and lamp placement.

I drank warm tea with my breakfast. Got some pills from the medic. But nothing seemed to help. And as the day wore on, I noticed my feet were dragging and I groaned at the thought of moving another light, no matter how small it might be.

That's when I admitted defeat.

I told my Best Boy I needed some time off, and thus ended my stellar run.

I finished out the day as best as I could and when I got home, I immediately took a hot shower and went to bed, where I slept... and slept... and slept...

It was as if everything had caught up with me at once. All the short turnarounds and missed sleep. All the heavy cable and late nights working in the cold. All those times I didn't rest when I should've... It all came back to bite me in the ass.

I was invincible. I was unstoppable. I was in demand. I was on a roll.

But that all came to a crashing stop with a sneeze...

Oh, Those Pesky Interns...

2011-10-04T14:13:00.000-07:00

This may be old news by now (hey, I've been busy) but I stumbled upon this article the other day and it piqued my interest.

Basically, two "unpaid interns" who worked on the movie Black Swan are suing Fox Searchlight for unfair labor practices. From the article:

“Fox Searchlight’s unpaid interns are a crucial labor force on its productions, functioning as production assistants and bookkeepers and performing secretarial and janitorial work,” the lawsuit says. “In misclassifying many of its workers as unpaid interns, Fox Searchlight has denied them the benefits that the law affords to employees.”

Some of the tasks the interns were asked to do included making coffee and ordering lunch.

I gotta admit, I'm kinda torn on this one.

On the one hand, I'm all for getting paid for your work. Obviously.

But on the other hand, I kind of get the feeling that these guys don't really get how things work and/or are throwing a hissy fit because the experience wasn't what they were expecting. I mean, it's an unpaid internship. You're supposed to get college credit. If they didn't, then that's a different conversation.

It's also an internship. A position that's widely understood in this industry as being below P.A. level, which is (no offense) pretty low to begin with. So these guys should've expected to run the occasional errand, make coffee or pick up lunch. And in exchange for such "grunt work," they get to work on a major motion picture. They get to put "Fox Searchlight" on their resume. They get to brag to their family and friends that they "worked" with Natalie Portman. And even more importantly, they see how the business works firsthand (because let's face it, film school does a poor job of this) and get the opportunity to meet new people who might further their careers.

Sure, I guess if they're doing work, the company could afford to pay them minimum wage. But you know what? If the company was putting them on payroll, they might as well just hire another P.A. The way I see it, interns are the ones who come in without any experience at all. And I'm sure I'm not the only one who has an issue with being paid the same as the guy with less experience.

Also from the article:

Fox Searchlight acted illegally, the lawsuit asserts, because the company did not meet the federal labor department’s criteria for unpaid internships. Those criteria require that the position benefit the intern, that the intern not displace regular employees, that the training received be similar to what would be given in an educational institution and that the employer derive no immediate advantage from the intern’s activities.

Given those guidelines and the description of the tasks the interns were asked to do (basically, P.A. work), then yeah, I'd say they have the makings of a lawsuit there. But at the same time, I'm confused by the guidelines themselves. What's the point of having an intern if the company doesn't benefit from it? If I was an employer, I'd see no advantage of having a snot nosed kid hang around me all day, asking me questions and trying to learn "the biz" if he didn't at least bring me a cup of coffee now and then.

When I was in college, you bet your ass I had unpaid internships. And yeah, I answered phones, made coffee runs, took lunch orders and filed a bunch of stuff. Does this mean I was taken advantage of? Yeah. Was I aware of it at the time? Yeah. Did I complain? No. Because I like to think I was taking advantage of the situation as much as it was taking advantage of me. I learned everything I could at my internships. I asked questions (at appropriate times, of course). I made great contacts (not every one was able to get me anywhere, but it was still a start. There are some that I still keep in touch with). I even gained a few office supplies.

I guess another thing that rubs me the wrong way about this whole thing is what one of the plaintiffs say:

“The only thing I learned on this internship was to be more picky in choosing employment opportunities,” Mr. Footman, 24, said in an interview. “ ‘Black Swan’ had more than $300 million in revenues. If they paid us, it wouldn’t make a big difference to them, but it would make a huge difference to us.”

First off, if you're starting out in the film business, there's no such thing as being "picky in choosing employment opportunities." Hollywood has a loooooooooooooong line of people outside her door, just waiting for a chance to stick their foot in. If you really wanted to work in this business, you take any and every opportunity you can get if you're just starting out. Save the being picky part for when you have more than one internship under your belt.

And secondly, "Nobody knows anything." The fact that the movie made that much money is moot. If you're on a production, there's no telling if the movie's going to be the next big thing or the next big flop. So it's kind of tacky in my opinion to say, "Well, they ended up making a lot of money, so now I'm saying they should've paid me." Unless, of course, they signed up for back end points, which again, is an entirely different conversation.

But I do agree that if Fox Searchlight had given them something, it would've made a difference. In this business, a little respect goes a long way.

Like I said, I'm kinda torn on this one.

The Difference Between A Big Show And A Low Budget One...

2011-09-30T09:08:00.000-07:00

... If you're on a big show, there's plenty of food at lunch for everyone, no matter how picky of an eater you are.

If you're on a low budget one and happen to be a vegetarian, you're usually S.O.L. because they either a) didn't account for any special dietary needs on set* or b) put the vegetarian entree out with the meat filled ones not realizing that omnivores can eat vegetarian dishes too, so by the time you get there it's nothing but an empty pan.

*And by "special dietary needs," I don't mean stuff like peanut allergies, Celiac's disease, or an abnormal aversion to brown food. I live in Tinsel Town where vegetarians are as common as a lost quarter at the Laundermat.

Where's Here??

2011-09-26T06:58:00.000-07:00

This is a note to all the Gaffer's out there.

In case you never really considered it, walkie-talkies are pretty much made for you to communicate with people who aren't right next to you. Like between cars going on a road trip. Or between two eight-year-olds who live down the street from each other.

And when you're on set, they're made so you can communicate with your fellow colleagues, and if you're gaffing, they're a great way to get stuff done. All you have to do is get on the radio and start calling for things.

"I need a zip over here, and a tweenie over there," is all you need to say before the desired lights start flying into the set.

The problem with that though, is that these lights will rarely land where you want them because none of us actually know where "here" is. Most of us are behind the set walls, by staging, crafty, or just coming back from a bathroom and/or cigarette break when we hear your voice transmitting from your microphone to our ears, and not only are we not sure where you are, but we sure as hell can't see where here or there actually is.

The same goes for when we're doing things like adjusting a light outside a window while you're inside, behind a curtain, deep into the room. The phrase, "give me some light on this thing over here" isn't very helpful if I can't see you or the thing you're referring to.

Bottom line: we're not always within eyesight of you so when you're calling for things, please be more specific.

"I need a zip camera right and I need a tweenie by the window, inside, giving our actress an edge."

Since we're not on set just yet, we may not know where the camera is or where the actress will be, but with instructions given like that, there's a very good chance we'll figure it out once we get there.

Please keep this in mind. Nothing's more frustrating than carrying a heavy light onto an already crowded set, fighting your way through the sea of Camera Assistants, P.A.s, Vanities*, Grips, etc, frantically searching for the Gaffer to get placement for your light, only to discover that you're totally nowhere near where you need to be.

So remember, Gaffers: We can't see you. Use your words.

Thank you.

* Hair, Make-Up, Wardrobe.

Two Strikes.

2011-09-20T23:39:00.000-07:00

If you really wanted the job, your phone would be like this...

One of the hardest parts I deal with in this business is simply just picking up the phone and asking for work. It's weird. I don't know why I have a problem with it. It's a pretty common industry practice to leave a message every now and then with colleagues saying you're available if they're looking for crew. It's just part of the biz. But for some reason, I have a hard time doing it.

Which is why I give props to those who do. Every so often, I'll get a message from a former co-worker who's looking for work. And honesty, I'll do my best to pass their name along if the opportunity arises.

Except, however, when it's a certain someone who shall remain nameless.

He's been hounding me for months now to hook him up with work.

And by hounding, I mean leaving me messages to call him "ASAP!!!" only when I call, the conversation is nothing more than small talk with the standard "By the way, I'm looking for work" phrase slipped in.

And by hounding, I mean sending me texts along the lines of, "Hey A.J. How's it goin You got NEthing goin on this week???" every other week.

Now, here's the thing about hooking people up with work: unless you're a Best Boy, you can't always bring whoever you want on a job with you. And even then, the job is often so riddled with political hires and a reduced budget for manpower that your hands are often tied. Every so often though, whether it's because you're a trusted confidant of the Best Boy and/or you just happen to be at the right place at the right time, the opportunity arises where you can say, "Hey, I know someone who's available. Want me to give him/her a call?"

One such occasion arose not too long ago, so I decided to give this guy a chance and left him a message asking if he was available the next day.

Only, he didn't respond until the next day, well after call time and definitely well after the spot was filled.
"Oh, sorry! I didn't notice the message on my phone til just now!"

Uh huh. Sure, buddy.

But still, the hounding continued. "I just Best Boyed on a feature! lolz. You got any work this week??"

Eventually, another opportunity came up for me to bring someone onto a job, so I shot the guy another message. I'd be lying if I said I caught every text that landed on my phone the second it was sent, so I gave him the benefit of the doubt as well as another chance.

Only, this time, he didn't respond until the next evening. "SO SORRY. I DIDN'T SEE UR MESSAGE TIL NOW. U STILL NEED SOMEBODY??"

No, fuckwad. We're already half way through the day. The spot's already been filled.

I give him shit for missing TWO calls in a row now with the same stupid excuse. He apologizes profusely and sticks to his story.
...And to this day, he still hounds me for work.

And here's the thing: I barely know the guy. He got my number from some show we worked on together a little over a year ago, and in all honesty, I don't remember him. Which I guess could be good or bad. Good because he didn't fuck up on the job enough for him to be memorable and bad because he wasn't stellar enough that I'd remember him either. So at most, he was "just okay." So for me to bring on someone who I ~~barely~~ don't know who is "just okay" at their job is a pretty big risk. I'm putting my reputation on the line for you. So if after months of begging me for work, you blow me off TWICE IN A ROW, you might as well lose my number because I sure as hell won't be giving you a third chance. And I like to think I'm a pretty understanding and generous person.

But at least I'll remember who he is now...

Advice, Part II.

2011-09-15T14:19:00.000-07:00

Sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do.

This guy was impossible to work with.

He'd fuck up everything he touched. Talked to us like we were little kids. Didn't communicate his ideas with the rest of the group. And worst of all, he was one of those "I know everything" types that didn't know anything at all.

What made things even worse was that he was assigned to our group for a class project. And if you haven't gone to film school, let me tell you that there's not much you can do when you don't get along with one of your "crew members." You can't "fire" the guy because it's a class and everyone needs a grade. Instructor's usually can't give someone an "incomplete" on a project because generally speaking, it's pretty much impossible for an individual to make up an assignment that involves multiple partners (you'd need a DP, Director, Producer, UPM, G/E, etc...).

Anyway, so we're doing this one-day project and this guy's acting like an insufferable ass. I forget what it is he does exactly that set this conversation off, but whatever it was, it was the last straw.

"Get out."
"What?" asked the stunned, bullheaded classmate.
"I said, get out. Leave the room. You're fired." These words were coming from one of our more outspoken group members.
"You can't fire me. This is a group assignment."
"I don't care. We're done trying to work with you. Please leave."
"You think you can do this without me? Fine. I'm out of here." He grabs his stuff and marches out of the classroom we were using, slamming the door behind him.
"Good riddance," we all mutter, under our breath.

The remaining teammates and I all share a relieved look before we get back to work. Things were going more smoothly now without the giant ass in the room. We were gaining momentum, working as a team, and making up for the time we lost dealing with the jerk.

Then suddenly, the door opens and in walks our instructor with a concerned look on his face. Uh oh...

"Hey guys," he starts off. "I just saw [jackass] out in the hallway... What happened?"

The tone in his voice and the look on his face told me that he wasn't okay with a student not participating in an assignment. This is, after all, a film class and what is a film without collaboration?

"Well, he was being impossible to work with," started the Outspoken Girl, before she cited an example or two of the guy's bullheadedness. "... So we fired him."

There was silence in the room for a few beats as we all turned to our instructor to see how he'd react to our executive decision of excluding a "teammate." I was pretty sure he'd "discuss" the issue with us, saying how we don't always get to choose who we work with in this business; or how part of being in the real world is having to deal with people we don't like; etc etc. And then he'd try to mediate the situation before bringing our former collaborator back into the room and making us all play nice. I can already imagine the "I told you so" smirk on the arrogant ass' face as he stepped back in.

But what really happened surprised me and the rest of the team as well.

Our instructor stood there silently as he thought about the situation, then shrugged his shoulders and said, "Okay. You gotta do what you gotta do." And with that, he shut the door, leaving us to carry on with the assignment.

I thought it was rather cool that he let us go on with the project minus a member (I remember us getting a good grade on it in the end, although I'm don't know what kind of marks our former partner ended up with). But interestingly enough, the most valuable lesson I got out of that day wasn't how to deal with difficult colleagues or how to deal with exposure (I think that was our assignment?). It was our Instructor's last words that echoed into the room:

"You gotta do what you gotta do."

To this day, I remember these simple words because he's right. It may sound a bit trite, but there are some things that just must be done if you want to move up in this business.

I may feel bad about bailing on a friend's project because I got a last minute call to work on a bigger thing, but at the same time, the latter project will open a whole world of opportunities for me.

I may be tired and want a day off, but when a call comes in for work, I'll take it anyway because who knows what great things this job may lead to.

I may have to cancel on plans with a friend instead of giving up a work call, but this extra work will pay the bills for another day and thus keeping me from moving back into my parent's house, hundreds of miles away from this business.

I may have to wear dirty clothes to work because I haven't had the time to do laundry, but keeping up this hectic schedule will ensure that one day, I'll be able to take time off when I want to and not because I have to.

I may have to reschedule a dentist appointment I've had for the last two months and risk not having my teeth checked out for another two months because the job I'm on now is too much of an opportunity for me to give up even a day on.

In the end, I gotta do what I gotta do.

I need to do whatever it is I need to do to survive and make it in this business.* Some of it may suck, but they need to be done if I'm going to climb that virtual ladder and I'm not going to apologize for it.

And in order to finish our project and get a decent grade, we had to get rid of what was holding us back.

It was what we had to do.

Previously.

*Ethically and morally anyway. There are some things I won't do for a job, if you catch my drift.

Hands.

2011-09-09T23:00:00.000-07:00

Back in the eighth grade, a lab partner and I did exceptionally well on a project and high-fived each other.

"Wow," I remember her saying immediately after our celebratory hand-slap, "Your hands are really soft."

It was a nice compliment from one of the more popular girls in school, which is probably why I remember her words after all this time, and I smiled at her comment.

She was right; they were soft. Fourteen years old and never experienced an honest day's work in their life, my hands were baby smooth and super soft.

Flash forward a bunch of years later to the present day. I'm sitting on an apple box on set, killing time until we turn around, when I look down at the hands in my lap.

No one would dare say such nice things about my hands now. Repeated washings over the course of fourteen hour days has left them dry and rough. Lifting, carrying and dragging around equipment has thickened the skin on my hands and made them partly calloused. They're no longer baby soft like they once were. Cracked cuticles aren't uncommon these days and neither are minor scrapes, cuts, bruises or the occasional hangnail. And they're in desperate need of a good manicure.

These are working hands now. Hands that have seen so many days of hard labor, that even wearing work gloves doesn't seem to protect them. Hands that often get so dirty from moving lights or wrapping cable, that no amount of scrubbing can clean the grime that has settled into the cracks of their skin.

These are no longer the hands of a young girl who's biggest problem was completing a lab assignment. They are now the hands of a lighting technician, toiling away below-the-line in the belly of the Hollywood beast...

When Hard Working And Stupid Is Worse Than Just Being Stupid.

2011-09-05T23:13:00.000-07:00

Thunk!

I'm standing by the truck while I watch my colleague chuck pieces of cable halfway down our truck into a large bin; each one each one making a loud noise as it lands.

Thunk!

"Shouldn't you be helping him?" the driver of our truck asks me as I just stand there, staring while my co-worker do all the work.

Thunk!

Another fifty pound coil hits the pile.

I shake my head. "No. He can be the hero if he wants to."

It was the end of the night and like all normal people, we all wanted to just finish packing up the truck and get the hell out of there. But standing between us and the road home was a line of carts waiting to be strapped down and that pile of cable that needed to be put away.

Unfortunately, one of the guys was having an issue with a ratchet strap, causing a line of carts to block the bin of cable, preventing us from any easy access to it.

So instead of doing the smart thing and waiting until we could actually get to the bin, this guy decided to hurl the unruely cable over all the obstacles instead.

Did this get the job done? Sure.
Did this get us home maybe a minute or two faster? Maybe.
Was the a stupid thing to do? Definitely.

One of the clichés you hear in our line of work time and time again is "Work smarter, not harder." It's generally the working hard part, the physical labor of it all, that eventually leads to juicers and grips complaining about various aches, pains and bad joints in their 30s, 40s, 50s and beyond (that is, if you don't injure yourself right then and there). You won't feel it today, but it'll all catch up with you eventually.

Another reason why what he's doing is stupid is because of the way it makes the rest of us look. To anyone passing by (like our driver just demonstrated), this ape is the "hard worker." The "hero." He's the only one doing any real labor while the rest of us just stand around and watch.

Our only option in this situation is to either join in on the stupidity and end up injuring ourselves, or accept that we're being labeled as "lazy." It's a lose-lose situation.

And further more, while I like to think that I bring many skills to the table (alertness, technical knowledge, perfect size to fit into tight spaces, ability to provide general amusement...), I'm the first to admit that brute strength is not one of them. So if hurling that cable fifteen feet has got this guy grunting and sweating, imagine how much harder it'd be for someone less than half his size to do the same thing.

If he's in such a hurry to leave that staying an extra couple of minutes because of stalled carts was such a nuisance, I would've gladly dove right in and given him a hand once the pathway to the bin was cleared. Hell, I probably wouldn't have complained if I was left to do it all on my own while he went home.

Thunk!

But to handle it the way he was?

Thunk!

Fuck that. He can give me all the dirty looks he wants for not "helping" him (and believe me, he was). He can talk shit about how I'm not a "team player" to whoever (I'm sure he has). People passing by can praise him for his "hard work" and condemn me for just standing around if they so please (and they are).

Thunk!

But I'm not joining in on the stupid.

You Know You've Been Working Too Hard When...

2011-09-01T08:59:00.000-07:00

... It's your day off and you're mostly dressed before you realize you had absentmindedly grabbed your work clothes.

Job Titles: Best Boy vs. Best Girl.

2011-08-27T18:53:00.000-07:00

The call sheet for my next job comes in and the first thing I do is scan my department to make sure the appropriate names are there. I already see an issue two lines in with my own name: Electric: Best Girl.

Sigh.

I can see why they changed the wording of the title, but let me give you my take on it.

Sure, the "Boy" part in "Best Boy" stems from the fact that the role was traditionally male, so it only makes sense that some would change it to "Girl" when it's a female taking the lead.

But to me, the title of "Best Boy" is no longer a gender specific term. Yes, it may have started out that way, but decades of usage has turned it more into a very specific job title than the casual description it once was.

So much so, that when you think of your possible career path in this biz, you think "Okay, I'll start as a lamp op, then move onto being a Best Boy, then Gaffer..." Even if you're a chick, the thought of referring to yourself as a "Best Girl" doesn't even occur to you.

It's also a title that's so steeped in tradition that I feel as if I've worked really hard to achieve it. Like reaching it would be somewhat of a milestone. Something that finally ties me in with the old school ways of filmmaking past. And to have that title changed when I get there seems a bit... dejecting.

Plus, seeing as how there's so few girls on the team to begin with, if there's only one in your department, isn't she the "Best Girl" by default?* So it's pretty much a meaningless title to begin with.

But most of all, being called a "Best Girl" instead of a "Best Boy" just feels... wrong.

*Admittedly, if it was an all girl crew, I don't think I'd have a problem with there being a "Best Girl."

Directors.

2011-08-23T17:06:00.000-07:00

I'm on a tech scout for an upcoming job. One of the locations we're in is a hole-in-the-wall bar, and as the scout went on, the laundry list of "issues" we have with the place keeps growing...

- It's a VERY small space. Cramming an entire crew, talent and equipment in there all while keeping everything/everyone out of the shot would be nothing short of a miracle... And very uncomfortable for all involved.

- Because of the space issue, most of the lights we'd use would have to be hung from the ceiling or on the wall... And no, we aren't allowed to drill into anything.

- The layout of the space doesn't quite fit in with the layout of the scenes, so the Art Department is going to have to get a bit creative and create spaces where ones don't exist.

- Despite a good chunk of the day now having to be devoted to the extra set up time needed by our departments, we only have a very limited amount of time to shoot in there since we can't afford to buy the place out entirely.

- It's facing a very busy street. (Sorry Sound Department!)

- The two main walls of the place (the longer ones that are facing each other) are mirrored.

- Etc, etc...

So I ask one of the Producers/Locations person (Yeah, it's that kind of job) why the hell we're shooting here at all when there's so many other bars in the area that better fit the needs of our production. I mean, come on, who chooses to shoot in a place with MIRRORED WALLS if they can avoid it?

Her response? "Yeah, I know... But the Director comes here all the time and he really likes the look of the place."

Sigh... Of course he does.

You Know You're A Juicer When...

2011-08-18T16:06:00.000-07:00

... You're cleaning your apartment and find a random cube tap, clothes pin, wire nut, or add-a-tap every few minutes.

Nap Time.

2011-08-13T12:07:00.000-07:00

Once we're in at call time, the film set is a very busy place to be. Juicers and Grips are hustling and bustling about, carrying lights, stands and flags around, shouting things like "Hot points!" and "Watch your head!" Transpo is busy shuffling vans, cars and trucks around and driving people too and from set. Camera people are running back an fourth with various camera pieces and video cables while sound is trying to mic up the actors. P.A.s are making their daily rounds, ordering breakfasts and passing out walkie talkies and call sheets while the Art Department is busy putting the finishing touches on the set all while moving furniture out of the way for the onslaught of people in the room.

When we're finally ready to shoot, the time between takes is filled with Make Up, Hair and Wardrobe fawning over the talent, doing touch ups. Juicers and Grips are doing minor tweaks. Props is scrambling to reset drink glasses/pens/books and the Camera people are still running back and forth with various pieces.

Lather, rinse, repeat.

Then six hours into the day, lunch is called and the silence follows. The set suddenly becomes a ghost town as the whole crew is herded like cattle into the catering line. And once everyone has eaten, many of them disperse into whatever dark corner or hole they can find.

And the napping commences.

One or two people can usually be found laying down on the floor of their respective trucks. Someone usually claims the couch on set. If there's any kind of risers or platform on your stage, don't be surprised to find that someone built a "nest" under there. Makeshift hammocks are hung from wherever they can. Furniture blanket sleeping bags can be found everywhere if you look hard enough. If it's a clean enough looking place where someone can comfortably lay down, chances are, someone already is.

After a few minutes of quiet mixed in with a few light snores, the shrill cry of the P.A.s cut through the calm air like a dog chasing a ball; "We're in!"

And then, like zombies rising from the dead, they slowly awaken, one by one. Suddenly, they appear from every corner, staggering out of dark and shadowed corners, blurry eyed and bed headed, all standing to do one last simultaneous yawn and stretch. They stagger to their respective departments, rubbing the sleep from their faces, and get back to work.

In almost an instant, the set comes to life again, buzzing with action. The Juicers start moving lights around. The Grips follow with their flags and stands. Props is digging through bins looking for the appropriate item. And the Camera people are running back and forth with various camera pieces...

The Bus Is Coming.

2011-08-09T11:19:00.000-07:00

My fellow colleague was given notes on the cable run we're supposed to put in and my job was to fall in line and give him a hand. Five minutes in, and he asks me whether or not we should phase tape the cables (the right answer is technically "yes," but this crew likes to run things a little... differently.). I say sure, and as we're wrapping the connectors in the appropriate colors, the Best Boy walks by us and asks us why we're wasting our time and his tape on phase taping when we could just do the knots. My colleague's reply? "A.J. told me to."

Uh... What?? You got the notes for the rig, which makes you in charge of it. Plus, you asked me whether or not we should phase them with tape!

Later on, I find the Juicer on set, clutching the tub of household globes, looking lost. I ask him what's up and it turns out he had just finished globing up some lamps on set and tried to take the extra bulbs back to our staging when he was trapped in by the sudden the wave of talent, stand ins, camera people, make up people, and art department that came flooding into the room. "Here, can you hold these for a second?" he asked, handing me the box. And soon after I grabbed it, I noticed an opening in the crowd and started to make my way towards the door, only to be caught by the Gaffer seconds later. "What are you doing? Don't take those away! Keep them in the room!" Like a puppy with its tail between its legs, I put them back.

The Juicer whose idea it was to clear them out in the first place? He just stood there, saying nothing.

We're setting up lights for the next scene and I get a list of what goes where. Juicer's supposed to assist and I give him a run down of the notes. Part way through the task, I absentmindedly set a Tweenie down where a Baby should go, and the next thing I hear is Juicer shouting across the room, "Hey, Gaffer! Isn't a Baby supposed to go here instead?" The boss takes a look over here (and at me, standing with the wrong light), and confirms.

Yes, I had made a mistake. But you know what, Juicer? Next time, bring it to my attention first and if I'm being a stubborn bitch about it, then bring it up to the powers that be.

Don't shout it across the room to the Boss and make me look like an idiot.

Don't ask me for my opinion on something, and then blame me for it when it's not to the Boss' liking.

Don't make me take the blame for something that was your bad idea.

Don't throw a fellow colleague under the bus.

Yes, some of these things may sound a bit petty, but little mistakes in the boss' eyes tend to add up. Plus, we're supposed to be working as a team, and singling me out is just poor form. I know you're trying to cover your own ass and make yourself look good, but there are other ways to go about that other than making everyone else look bad. And if you are constantly looking for scapegoats for your own fuck ups, then maybe you should stop fucking up so much to begin with, or GTFO.

And call me old fashioned, but if I screw up, I'll man up and take responsibility for it rather than have someone else take the fall. But I also would've happily accepted the "we" defense from the Juicer. "Sorry Gaffer, but we thought it'd be a good idea to clear the room of our gear." "Yeah, it takes more time, but we figured it'd be a good idea to phase tape as well as knot the cables."

Leaving me out to dry like that though? Not cool.

Can You Believe He's Still Single?

2011-08-02T15:40:00.000-07:00

I'm filling in for a friend on some job out in the Valley when the Gaffer instructs me and another Juicer to prep a 6k Par with a medium lens in it.

After the Juicer and I head the lamp up and round up the corresponding accessories, we pull out the medium lens from its case and discover that some gunk has melted onto it from whenever it was used before.

We obviously have get this stuff off before we put it in the light, and the Juicer sighs as he ponders how to go about this.

"Do you have a razor blade?" I offered, trying to be helpful. "We could just scrape it off."

"No no no... That won't work," was his immediate reply. Then after some more thinking he turns to me and goes, "What we need is something like nail polish remover. Do you have any?"

"Um... What?"

"Nail polish remover. You're a girl, right? Don't you carry some?"

I stare at him blankly for a moment, not quite sure how to answer that.

"No... I don't have any nail polish remover. I'm telling you, just take a blade to it and scrape the stuff off."

He then asks the Make-Up girl who just happens to be passing by. "Hey, do you have any nail polish remover in your kit?"

The girl thinks for a minute and kinda paws through her stuff before giving him the same answer I gave him and goes about her business.

Finally, the guy digs through his own tool pouch and emerges with an alcohol wipe in his hand.

"Ah... This will do." And with that, he proceeds to try to wipe the gunk off.

After a few minutes of wiping and scrubbing, no progress was being made. It was the equivalent of using a moist towelette to remove old gum from hot asphalt: not gonna happen.

Eventually, the Gaffer came over the radio again and asked for another light. And despite there being other guys inside to man the set, the Juicer copied the boss' call over the radio. "Here," he said, handing me the alcohol wipe, "You continue at it while I go inside." And just like that, he left me holding the bag on what was hit shotty idea.

Great co-worker I have, huh? He refuses to take advice from a female co-worker, then proceeds to insult her by implying that all chicks carry nail polish remover (note: my nails weren't even painted), and comes up with a shitty idea that in no way would work. Then, when it's very apparent that his plan is going no where, he removes him self from the job and runs away, leaving me now solely responsible for the task all while still insisting that I stick with this useless idea. That, my friends, is male stubborn sexism at its finest.

But whatever. The second he rounded the corner, I tossed out the useless wipe, whipped out my razor blade and in less than a minute, the lens was as good as new.

"I Don't Like Change..."

2011-07-27T16:13:00.000-07:00

As many of you probably know by now, Google has been making a bunch of changes lately and there's just no stopping them. And it's not just little tweaks here and there, either. The internet giant has been swooping down on all branches of their services and making major "improvements." While I like a couple of the new offerings, most of them have left me frustrated and thinking, "Really, Google? WTF."

And as the changes keep rolling out, the more annoyed I get. Then, today, I sign into Blogger to work on a post and find that any previous drafts I've done are not as I've left them. Obviously, these wonky posts are a result of some kind of changeover gone wrong on Google's end.

Am I mad? No. After all, you get what you pay for so I can't complain too much about what they're doing to their free services. Am I frustrated? Yes.

But what this really means is that posting on here might be a little more irregular than usual while I try to sort out the mess that was once my hard work back into readable form.

I know that eventually, as with all changes, things will settle down, I'll adapt to the new format, and things will return to "normal." But until then, please bear with with me.

In the meantime, I hope that everyone's been too busy working to notice anything different around here anyway. :)

Stop Helping.

2011-07-23T22:15:00.000-07:00

Hey people in other departments,

I like that you want to be nice and a "team player" and realize how miserable a Juicer's job can be, but please, stop "helping" us.

It's really considerate and all that you try to do little things that make our lives easier, like wrap a stinger when you're done with it. But did you know that there's a right way and a wrong way to coil the cable?* And when it's done backwards, not only does it throw us off the next time we use that stinger, but it also screws around with the insides, eventually making it unusable?

And when it's not just the right size with the right amount of loops in it, it doesn't pack well into the crates, and we have to re-do it all anyway.

And yes, sometimes we can be kind of inconsiderate and leave piles of banded or 4/0 in the middle of the floor in anticipation of coming back with a cart to pick it all up later, and we understand that sometimes those coils may end up in your way. But please just wait the thirty seconds it takes for one of us to get over there and move it for you. It's great that you'll sometimes save us the hassle and stack it into piles for us, but if you must do that, please, can you at least check to see if the coils are tied before moving them? Because let me tell you, trying to discern between one hundred pound coil of cable from the next when they're untied and stacked on top of one another is NOT fun and usually ends up in us having to re-do it all.

And ADs, yeah, we get that sometimes we may fall behind schedule, resulting in a mad rush for us to wrap out of a location before Production gets slammed with overage charges, but please stop sending your PAs to "help" us out. You may think you're just sending them over to move things around, and hey, how hard can that be, right? But did you know that we often leave the latches open on some of the lights and if they're not closed when you move the heads around, the lens can fall out and shatter into a million little pieces? I know a few PAs who learned that the hard way (as well as a few Best Boys who weren't to pleased with the L&D**).

While we're at it, I love that on a smaller shoot, even the Director wants to jump in and lend a hand. That shows passion and dedication. But guess what? Live power is no joke. What you see us doing may look kinda simple, but we also (more or less) know what we're doing. That distro box I caught you disconnecting the other day (true story)? That had live power going through it. And that camlock*** you took out first? Yeah, that was the ground. Long technical mumbo jumbo short, that could have ended in a very bad day for you.

Sure, to the naked eye, what we do on the job every day may seem simple and require nothing but brute strength. "Drop this cable here and match the colors together." "Put that light there and plug it in." Etc, etc. But let me tell you, the Devil is in the details. For every simplistic action you see us do, there are about a dozen thought processes involved that you don't see. Picking up a light? Are all the scrims out of it and accounted for? Are the barn doors on right? Is the lens still in there? And while we're at is, where's the lens case? Is the latch closed? Is the rocky mountain leg retracted? Is it unplugged? Are all the knuckles locked down? How hot is the head still? And that's just what goes on in our head for simply moving a light. It gets even more complicated when we're dealing with distro and live power.

Bottom line, our jobs are more complicated than you think and one wrong move on your part (no matter how well meaning may be) could mean disaster on our end.

To sum it all up, I really appreciate the fact that you all want to help. I really do.

But please, stop helping.

* Go clockwise.
** Loss and Damages. Basically, shit that breaks and need to be paid for.
*** Normally, I'd include a link to help explain the more technical terms in my posts, but in this case, if you don't know what I'm talking about, then you really shouldn't be helping. :)

"Back In The Good Ol' Days..."

2011-07-19T14:37:00.000-07:00

Despite having a lot of fun on crews made up of my own peers, I often feel more comfortable on jobs where I'm the youngest member of my department. Maybe because I feel safer when working with high voltage power around people who are more experienced and have been in the business longer. Or maybe I just like the maturity that comes with a well seasoned crew.* Or maybe we just get along better for no apparent reason. Regardless, it's sometimes refreshing to roll with a crew that's been around long enough that time has weeded out the slackers and inflated egos, unlike the sets I often find myself on, riddled with know-it-all fresh film school grads.

But with these more mature colleagues, there's usually at least one guy who feels it's their duty to tell you to get out while you can. "You're too pretty to be doing this." "Get out while your back's still in tact." "You're still young enough to change departments." Etc, etc. And no matter what their reasoning for you to run as far away from Hollywood as you can, their impassioned speech always ends the same way: "This business isn't what it used to be."

No matter where I am or what I'm working on, if there's a guy on set who's old enough to be my father, they'll always say the same things: That things were better back then; Production was more generous with their money; The town was flooded with work all the time; You could easily make a good living. But now? Things suck; We work longer hours for less money; Every year they cut away at the perks and benefits; It's harder to find work; Productions are moving out of state; Things were better back then.

The wording may be different. The examples may be more specific. But the story stays the same. The industry is changing, and it appears to be changing for the worse.

The last time I heard such a speech about how this business has been declining over the course of their career, it was from a Camera Assistant in the back of a pass van on the way to set one morning. A worn and weathered Grip overheard the conversation and piped up, agreeing with the salt and pepper haired AC. "Producers used to fly us first class out to location and put us up in nice hotels, but now they won't even hire you if it's out of state." "I used to be able to survive only working about six months out of the year, but now I need to be constantly working..." "Things were better back then."

These two guys now had these wistful looks on their faces as they reminisced about the past. Days that were long gone and never to return. Back when they were younger, carefree, and rolling in good times and good work for good pay.

And when they were done looking back at how things have changed over the years, I couldn't help but ask a simple question: "When you were about my age and starting out in this business, did the old timers give you speeches about how much better it was when they first started?"

The kind AC paused for a moment before looking at me with a slight grin on his face. "Yeah, they did." The Grip in the front seat chuckled in agreement.

And I think that's when they knew that no matter what they said, I wasn't going to head their warnings of an industry going down hill. They sure has hell didn't listen when they were given the same speeches a decade or two ago, and they had no reason to believe that I would either. Despite how good it was back then, I don't think I have it all that bad now. Sure, I may have a shitty gig every now and then, but for the most part, I get paid decently enough, the food's usually pretty good, I get to go to some interesting locations from time to time and I get to snack on crafty all day. As far as jobs go, I'd say I have a pretty good one.

But they know as well as I do that it won't be long before I'm giving the same speech to some new kid in the back of a pass van. "We used to go to some pretty bitchin' places to shoot, but now it's all green screen in a studio." "We used to get three square meals a day on set, plus mini-meals from Craft service. Now all they have are bags of potato chips to snack on and lunch is a walk-away." "It used to be that the Best Boy could bring on whoever they wanted. Now, they've got all these rules about who you can and can't hire." "Kid, things were better back then..."

*Generally speaking, of course. It's no secret that I've run into my share of clueless douchebags.

Nepotism.

2011-07-15T14:01:00.000-07:00

This post reminded me of a conversation I had with a co-worker over breakfast one morning:

Juicer: "So I heard that on one lot, nepotism is so rampant that they don't allow you to hire family members anymore."
Me: "Really? None at all?"
Juicer: "Yup."
Me: "Huh... I can see why they'd implement a rule like that, but what if the family member is actually good at what they do? I mean, they could totally deserve the job but get shafted instead just because of a last name? That kind of sucks and doesn't sound very fair."
Juicer: "Yeah. I guess. But when was the last time you worked with a guy who's related to your boss that was actually worth their weight?"
Me: (Slight pause.) "Good point."

*I'll admit, I do know of some family names who have deep roots in this industry and for good reason, but they're also people who are good enough to get work on their own without their Daddy/Brother/Uncle bringing them onto jobs. The ones who depend on their relatives to get hired suck 99.99% of the time.

"Stay Cool."

2011-07-11T16:17:00.000-07:00

Seen on my way to work the other day. (Please excuse the poor picture quality and the window glare.) Usually, signs like these* around town aren't uncommon as they're often found at exit off ramps and intersections, directing crew members to their respective shooting sites.** However, this one was found while I was driving (or rather, slowly creeping along in traffic) while on a freeway interchange.

* Hey Nathan, is there a specific name for these things? Crew signs? Production signs? Yellow thing-a-ma-bobs?
** They're usually printed with something show specific, like the name of the Production Company, an abbreviation of the show name, a character's name, etc. The most interesting one I've encountered up until now was one that said "Exit." I've always wondered if that one ever confused any non-filmy people driving around...

"Anyone Can Do It."

2011-07-06T17:04:00.000-07:00

The Worlds First Wedding Photo + Video shot 100% with an iPhone 4

"Shooting in DV (digital video as opposed to film or Hi-Def)* has really democratized film making. Anyone with a video camera can go out and make a movie. That means, unfortunately, any idiot can go out and make a movie. It lowers the entry fee."
- Michael Schwartz (Sales and Marketing coordinator for the Sony Pictures High Definition Center)

*This quote is a few years old, but if you replace "DV" with "Hi-Def" it's still a very valid point.

Far Out There.

2011-07-01T17:50:00.000-07:00


Something tells me we're not in L.A. anymore...

It was a nice day to go for a long drive.

The latest top 40 Summer anthem was flowing from my radio as I cruised along the nearly empty road, admiring the scenery. Jeweled green hills; hidden dirt roads off shooting from the highway; roadside fruit stands; fields of sun ripened produce, just ready to be picked. It was a beautiful day.

Too bad I was on my way to work.

It's kind of a shame really. The only time I drive out of the city to places where your nearest neighbor is a mile away, it's because some production had picked a location all the way out there and I'm spending the day lugging around cable and lights rather than enjoying the peace and fresh air.

So why don't I visit those places when I'm not working? Because it's far. Call me cheap and lazy, but I like to enjoy my time off and avoid driving to places that's going to cost me a half a tank of gas.

Which is part of the reason why I groaned when got the call sheet the night before. I've worked with this company before and they have a habit of picking waaaay out there locations. Cheap and secluded spots where screwing the crew over on their gas and potential turnaround* just happens to be a bonus. So it didn't really come as a surprise to me when I learned that my commute would be a long one.

It's times like these where the thought of breakfast comes into play. If I want a meal, I'd usually go in about half an hour early before my call time and order something hot and filling off the catering truck. But with that long of a drive, leaving early enough to get there in time for breakfast would require less sleep. Precious, precious sleep. In those cases, sleep usually wins. In which case, I'd sleep in a little longer and grab something to munch on in the car (it's a long drive after all) or make do on an empty stomach until the first shot's all set up and I can grab a doughnut or muffin from crafty.

This morning, I opted for the latter option but found myself arriving at the location a little earlier than I thought I would (I keep forgetting there's no traffic in the middle of nowhere). Taking advantage of my new found time, skipped the long line at the catering truck and I grabbed myself some fruit salad and a bowl of oatmeal from the breakfast table and sat down with my fellow colleagues who were enjoying their coffee and eggs.

With a few minutes until we were in for the day, our whole department was there and accounted for, minus one person. Hm... That's interesting. This missing member was the same guy who was late the day before. This was day two of shooting at this location, and surely he wouldn't make the same mistake and be late two days in a row, would he?

I turned to the Best Boy. "Where's [Juicer]?"

"Beats me," my boss replied, checking his phone. "He better get here soon though."

Three minutes until our call turned into two, then one, and then we were in. My colleagues and I cleared our table and headed to work, down a man. Not a great way to start the day.

About a few pieces of cable into the new run we were putting in, a familiar voice came over our walkie channel. "Walkie check?"**

"Yeah, good check. Look who's finally here!" said the Best Boy, checking the time. The new voice over our radio waves was that of the missing Juicer, who was now late two days in a row. "We're running cable on the south side of the house. Why don't you come join us?"

"Yeah, I will. I'm just going to grab some breakfast from catering first."

Um.... What?

I shot my Best Boy my WTF face and he just shrugged and got back to work. He and the late Juicer had been working together for years, and whether they agree with each others work ethics or not, they've developed a symbiotic relationship and depend on each other for work. In other words, there wasn't much the Best Boy could do to discipline the guy.

A little while later, I headed back to the truck for more supplies and saw the Juicer sitting on the tail gate, finishing up his breakfast burrito. Following the Best Boy's lead, I should have let the whole ordeal go, but I just couldn't hold my tongue on this one, considering how me and my fellow brothers were already working up a sweat while this guy saunters in late and eats a leisurely breakfast in the shade.

"So," I started off, being as polite as I could, "did you run into some traffic or something?"

"No..."

"Oh... Then how'd you end up late two days in a row?"

"Because," he said, getting up to stretch, "I'm not going to leave my house more than an hour before call time."

I stood there, looking at him while he began to dig around his bag for the day's tools. "Huh? What do you mean?"

And the answer that flowed from his mouth turned out to be the most ridiculous example of protective rationalization I've heard in a good long while.

"Look, it's not my fault that production chose a location so far out here. They're screwing us over by having us trek out this far all the time. So you know what? I'm refuse to leave my house more than an hour before call. If I get here late, it's their problem. I guess this is my way of saying 'fuck you' to the Producers on this thing."

Granted, the guy kinda had a point. If we had brought up the issue with the Producers before hand and then we all decided to show up late whenever the location was outside of the TMZ, that might send a meaningful message to the powers that be, but this wasn't the case. The guy was taking matters in his own hands without discussing it with anyone first and all it does is end up making our department and himself look bad.

"Okay..." I said, as I tried to process what he just said, "But you know you don't really screw over the Producers when you do that, right? Because all we've established so far is that you've been late two days in a row and we start work whether you're here yet or not. So I guess what you're really doing is screwing your own department over because we've been a person short since we started."

He looks at me, with a thoughtful look on his face, "Yeah..."

"Besides, you've worked with this company before. You know where they like to shoot. You had to have known how far you'd be driving when you took the job. Them screwing us over like this is nothing new, yet you agreed to work for them anyway."

"Yeah..." I could tell from the look on his face that I wasn't telling him anything he didn't already know. He knew showing up late like he did was a bad thing, but he was just lazy enough that he couldn't find it in himself to get to work on time. So he created a reason in his mind for being late that made sense to him.

Like I said, the guy kinda had a point. It was a bitch to drive out that far every morning and then make the same long drive back at the end of a hard day. And we all know I wouldn't mind sleeping in a little longer. But at the same time, I took the job knowing the (bad) habits of this company and so did he. And while I probably should've let the Best Boy (not) handle the situation, I just didn't feel right about letting it slide without saying something to the guy after the rest of his team made an effort to be there on time, all while knowing that we either get there early for breakfast, or we don't eat until we can hit up crafty at an appropriate time.

Purposely showing up late, then heading to catering for a hot meal while the rest of us do your work all while feeling okay about it? That's some kind of reasoning you've got going on in your head there...

*Turnaround times don't include the commute.
**Generally responded to by a "good check" from a colleague on your channel. It's basically what you do when you turn on the walkie to ensure it's working properly.

Advice, Part I.

2011-06-26T09:16:00.000-07:00

I remember a time, quite a few years ago, when I first came out here to work in this business. I was just starting out and barely making any money. Most of the work I got (if I was lucky enough to get a call) were freebie jobs where lunch was pizza, which should tell you how shitty the jobs were. But seeing as how I was just starting out (I knew so little about the gear at this point that I could barely operate a put-put), I didn't really know any better, and even more importantly, I was more or less having a good time on these shows.

Then one day, I was somehow thrown into a much bigger position than I was prepared for. Long story short, I had applied for a grip/electric job and ended up shooting the thing. Sure, it wasn't a very big show, but it was a bigger thing than I was used to and I sure as hell had never been put in that position before.

So to prepare for my upcoming gig, I did my research as best as I could. I called around and asked other people I knew what they might get in terms of gear for this kind of shoot. I read up on some product manuals. Brushed up on my color theory and read up on aesthetics and framing. I basically made sure that when the day came to shoot, I was walking into the battle with everything I needed to make this project awesome. Sure, I may have taken the job with doubts in my mind that I was in over my head, but now, I was ready for it.

In the end, and I'm not gonna lie, the resulting footage turned out to be just okay. It wasn't bad, but it wasn't great either. After all was said and done, I remember dwelling on the parts that didn't go as planned even long after the last piece of equipment was returned. There were some moments that I'd even relive in my head, wondering why I didn't make different decisions. Why did I frame it like that? What if I had changed the lighting? Why couldn't I have done better?

Some time after, a colleague of mine whom I had turned to for advice on this job asked me how it all went. I shook my head, still disappointed in myself. The budget wasn't big enough for me to get every light I needed to completely cover my ass like he had suggested, so I had to pick and choose which ones to keep. Some of my camera moves were a bit shaky and the framing was a bit off on some takes, but time constraints made it impossible to redo them. The crew was great, but their experience levels were all over the place. We had this really nice shot planned but by the time we got to it, the sun had moved. Etc, etc. At the end of the shoot, we had some decent footage, but overall, it was nothing like I was hoping for.

My friend listened to all of this, saying nothing; only nodding his head at the appropriate moments. When I was done venting, he said this, and only this, about the whole ordeal:

"You did the best you could with what you had. No one can fault you for that."

And those words stick with me until this day. Because you know what? He was right. I can be hard on myself all I want. And the Director may not have gotten exactly what he had envisioned. But in the end, I could honestly say that I did the best I could with what I had, and that's all that anyone can expect from me.

Even now, no matter how hard of a day I had or how much the Producer/Asshole Gaffer/Director wants to blame me or my department for whatever mishaps that may have happened, I sleep easy, knowing that I (and my department) did the best we could given the situations at hand.

And realizing this simple fact has made all the difference.

The Baptism.

2011-06-21T16:25:00.000-07:00

After the last time we buttoned up the truck; after the last day of the grueling shoot; after the last time I made that long trek home from that God forsaken location, I finally made it through my front door and shortly after, I fell asleep on the couch...

When I woke up, it was a new day. A new morning. And thus, my end-of-the-show ritual began.

As my shower warmed up, I stripped down and added my dusty, dirt stained clothes from the day before to the ever growing pile of work clothes that's been sitting in the corner of my room for the past couple weeks. As usual, it's been hard to find some time to do laundry while you're working, but now I had all the time in the world (or until the next call comes in). I gathered everything in my arms, loaded it into the washer along with a cup of detergent and turned it on. As water filled the basin, I could see the clear liquid turning darker as it began to attack the dust, dirt and grass stains the fabric had accumulated over the course of the shoot. I was feeling cleaner already.

As the machine started churning, I stepped into my hot, steamy shower. I stood there for a second as I let the warm water wash over me. It's been hot the past few days, and shooting day exteriors didn't help any. Despite having at least a full night between wrap and this morning, I could still feel the stickiness of dried sweat on me from the day before. And despite habitually taking showers after work, it didn't seem to do any good on this show. No matter how much I lathered, scrubbed and rinsed, I never felt completely clean. Perhaps it was because I'd come home too tired to put in the effort needed to really get the day's dirt off. Or perhaps it was because I knew it was a futile task; that I'd be back at that same location the next day, working in the hot sun and the dirt again. Either way, by the end of it all, I felt like I had two and a half weeks worth of dirt sticking to me. Needless to say, the water felt good...

I washed my hair (lathered, rinsed, repeated), scrubbed myself down, and by the end of it all, I felt like a great weight had been lifted off of me. Like that clear, warm running water coming out of my shower head was somehow magical and able to whisk away the all the sweat, dirt, and exhaustion that seemed to have glued itself to my skin, hair and spirit. I stepped out of that shower, feeling physically clean the first time in what seemed like ages.

After basking in my new found cleanliness for a few moments longer, I got dressed. By that time, my laundry was done and when I pulled my previously work smudged clothes from the dryer, they smelled of warm, fluffy, sunshine. They were no longer the limp and haggard looking pile of fabric sitting in the corner, but they were now transformed into sharp looking garments, ready to wear and impress.

Now, it was the car's turn. The poor thing had the hardest time of all. Unlike clothing that could be changed daily or my skin that got hosed down at night, my car didn't have that luxury. Day in and day out, it got me to and from work, driving through dirt roads, parking in muddy fields, and being littered on by tree leaves and birds. It had such a thick coating of dirt on it that from a distance, a friend had even asked if my car had gotten a new coat of paint. It was that bad.

And as I sat there in the drive through car wash, watching rivers of dirt trickling down the windows, I thought about the job I just had. The shoot was rough. Long hours. Shitty locations. Not that great pay. But damn it, there were some good times. And really good people. And definitely some lessons learned.

After the scrubby things stopped spinning, I drove out of that dark, car wash tunnel and into the warm California sunshine with a smile on my face. I may have left that gig seemingly dirty, roughed up and beaten, but water takes care of all that. I was reborn. I emerged clean, sparkling, and smelling like a double rainbow. I emerged from the darkness a little wiser and ready for the next battle.

Seen By A Lift Gate.

2011-06-17T10:41:00.000-07:00

I wonder if the rest of it was important...

Previously.

Another Post About Cell Phones.

2011-06-11T20:46:00.000-07:00

No matter how professional the crew, every once in a while, a cell phone will go off during a take. It's just inevitable. (Ironically, it's usually the Director's phone or the Sound Guy's, but that's another story.)

ADs commonly try to squash the problem by saying something along the lines of "If your cell phone goes off during a take, you owe us $10." Where the money goes to exactly, I'm not sure. Sometimes they'll specify that it's beer money for the crew or something, but $10 doesn't exactly buy enough to go around. And if the pot actually does grow enough for everyone to share, then isn't that kind of like rewarding the problem? (Again, that's another story.)

Which brings us to a set I was on not too long ago. It was only a one day shoot but the AD seemed to be taking his job very seriously. Before we started rolling, he made a loud announcement to the entire crew, "Turn your cell phones off! If it goes off during a take, you owe us $20!"

I rolled my eyes. I hate hearing "announcements" that threaten to punish you for something that's obviously an accident to begin with. I mean, out of all the assholes that I've run into over the years on this job, no one purposefully leaves their cell phone on a loud ringtone and hopes for a call during a take. Usually, when one does go off during a take, the embarrassment of everyone looking at you is punishment enough. They all know you did something bad, you know you did something bad, everyone learns a lesson, double checks their phone and moves on.

"Yeah, that's right. $20! And I'm serious too!" continued the all important AD.

My Best Boy and I shared a look. "Sure," I muttered under my breath, "He can take it out of my pay."

My boss choked back a laugh.

Because you see, we were working on their shoot for free as a favor for a friend on a student film.

So not only did the AD threaten to fine people if their cell phone accidentally went off, he made the threat to a bunch of people who were donating their time and skill to a project, of most of which were students who don't have a lot of cash to begin with anyway.

Saddly, this isn't the first time I've heard this threat on a freebie show. I know that sometimes, it's the AD's job to be an asshole. But I also think that sometimes, they need to take a look at the situation and realize that not all of their usual tactics will apply here. And when you have people who gave up their day off to work on this project pro bono, I think it's also important to not be a dick to them.

Well, I Know The Male End Connects To A Female End, But...

2011-06-06T20:51:00.000-07:00

Yeeeeaah... It doesn't work that way.

One of the things I don't like about my job as a film electrician are those times when set dressing blankets the set with a bunch of practicals. Whether it be an ungodly number of table lamps and cabinet lights in a living room set; desk lamps, florescent fixtures and computers in a cubicle farm set; or the most dreaded of all, the Christmas sets where every piece of furniture has a string of lights on it, wiring up all that shit kind of sucks.

It usually involves a lot of tedious work and paying special attention to the details. It means doing math and counting on your fingers as you try to figure out how many things you can gang up together onto one circuit (how many amps does a tiny Christmas light pull anyway?). It also means crawling around a lot on the floor and squeezing into dusty corners to reach the plugs that the art department (usually) forgets to leave in a convenient place for you. But worst of all, it's a headache to try to hide the few dozen or so cables you'll be using so the camera doesn't see them when they face every which way. (And don't even get me started on what kind of wire you may or may not be allowed to use.)

Which is why I groaned when I found out we were setting up for an outdoor party scene at night and stepped into the yard to find that the art department had basically bathed the entire location in novelty string lights and paper lanterns. Ugh.

But like most seemingly overwhelming tasks, the trick to this one was to tackle things one by one. Which meant first things first: find the male connectors. With any luck, a few of them will be within reach of each other and I'd just be a simple cube tap away from lighting them up. I did a quick visual sweep of the yard, attempting to make note of where strands of lights ended and others began so I could mentally begin to map it all out and form a game plan.

Only, to my dismay, I didn't notice any.

I did another walk around, this time a little slower, my eyes quickly scanning any of the usual hiding places art department uses for the tail ends. Corners of the roof, in tree branches, edges of the fence, behind a bush.... Nothing.

Okay. Attempt number three. This time, I picked a strand and carefully walked its path, never taking my eyes off it. I was determined to find out where this sucker ended. Victory was going to be mine.

Eventually, I found the end... It was plugged into another strand. I followed that one. It was plugged into another one.

Now, I was getting somewhere and was getting excited. I began to move faster, no longer carefully following each inch of each strand now that I was onto their little game. But alas, I had circled the whole yard without finding what was now expected to be the lone male end. The part that would (in theory) power them all.

In my excitement, I had somehow carelessly missed it. Damn.

So I sighed deeply, cursed myself for not taking my time like I should have, and started all over again.

I picked a strand. Slowly and carefully, I traced it to the next one. And I followed that one to the next one after that. And the next one after that. And... the next one after that.

I followed string after string of lights, my eyes never wavering from its path. I followed it through bushes, climbed over dirty looking yard furniture and almost stepped in dog shit, all while tracing this seemingly never ending trail.

Eventually, I found myself staring at the chili-pepper themed strand that I had started out with, with no dangling male end around for me to plug into.

And that's when I realized it. There was no open male end for me to find because whoever was hanging all these lights and plugging one into another, had plugged the first strand of lights into the last strand, creating a continuous loop of lights without an end.

Sigh...

Dear Art Department,

Electricity doesn't work that way.

Juicer Math.

2011-06-01T22:30:00.000-07:00

A scrim set has a single, two doubles, a half single and a half double in it.* The Gaffer says to put in another single into the tweenie that you're standing next too. The problem is that it's already got a double and a single in it, leaving you without anymore singles in the scrim bag for that light. The Gaffer also tells you to pull out a single from the redhead when you're done with the tweenie. But the redhead doesn't have any singles in it. Just the two doubles.

What do you do?

(Bonus question: What do you have when you've got two doubles and a single in a light?
Answer: The wrong light.)

*Previously.

Video Break.

2011-05-26T21:19:00.000-07:00

Things have been pretty hectic here lately and sadly, the upcoming holiday weekend is adding to the craziness instead of providing me with a much needed break. Unfortunately, that means that I haven't had time to actually sit down and write a real blog post but until I do, I leave you with a music video.

It was brought to my attention the other day and although I can't say that I love the song, I am enamored with video itself. It's another example of how a simple concept can make a big impression, and for some reason, those are the kinds of projects that stick with me.

Plus, big thumbs up to the boom op about half a minute in! (Also, a boom op in a music video??)

Previously.

What I Learned Today...

2011-05-20T23:31:00.000-07:00

What does a gorilla do after it's done throwing poo?
-Sets a c-stand.

What do Grips and Electrics have in common?
- Grips don't want to be Electrics either.

How do you spot an Electric walking down the street?
- He's wearing hundred dollar shoes and a free t-shirt.

Why do Sound Guys say, "One, two, one, two?"
- Because on "three" they gotta lift.

What's the biggest thing Grips carry?
- Art Department.

What did the Production Manager give his kids for Christmas?
- Nothing, but he promised to make it up to them on the next one.

Ba dum bum!

It's Never Good Enough.

2011-05-15T15:35:00.000-07:00

It's sunny. It's hot. And I'm outside by myself.

I look out at the work I have to do ahead of me and see several hundred yards of cable (three phase!) that need to be wrapped. I'm a team of one, so those several hundred yards could've been miles of the stuff and it wouldn't really make a difference in my eyes. A lot of cable is a lot of cable.

I start by following the run and undoing the connectors whenever I came across some. When doing a big cable wrap job like this, I find the assembly line approach to be best. Undo all the knots and connections first. Wrap it all. Tie it last. Wrapping the heavy mutherfuckers is the most daunting part of it all, but the trick is to get a good rhythm going with it and don't stop. Pausing every twenty seconds to tie each finished piece slows you down and prolongs and adds to the misery, despite it all being the same amount of work in the end.

As I walked the run, I'd pause and groan every once in a while at the stupidity of the task at hand. Every corner I turned seemed to reveal another layer to this hell. I'd find things like empty pallets, dumpsters or even set walls on top of the cable, making a "basic" wrap job into one that involves even more heavy lifting.

Eventually, I reached the end of this rubber coated copper trail of misery and now the fun part began: The wrapping.

If you've ever wrapped any significant amount of cable all at one go, I don't have to tell you that it sucks, especially for those of us out there who don't exactly weigh much more than the stuff. Your arms get tired after the first few sections, but you gotta keep moving lest you never finish. And then your back starts hurting. A big cable job can wreak havoc on your lower back as you're constantly bending while pulling all that weight.

But one by one, I'd finish each leg of cable and move on to the next one. As the sun beat down on the concrete surface, I somehow managed to keep slowly, but surely, moving along the cable trail, leaving plops of neatly coiled cable in my wake, just waiting to be tied and loaded onto a cart.

And finally, the finish. The last piece of cable. I was in halfway through wrapping it when the Gaffer walked by. The one and only soul from the crew I've seen since I've been out here.

"How's that cable wrap going, A.J.?" he asks me, shielding his eyes from the bright daylight.

"Pretty good." I replied, not pausing from my wrapping movements. "This is the last piece of it right here." Aaaand done. "It just all needs to be tied and picked up."

"Wow...." He looks past me at the coils of cable dotted around what used to be their shooting ground. "You finished faster than I thought you would. Anyway, take a break and then come on inside. We're switching sets and I need you to be in there with me for that one. I'll send some of the other guys out a little later to tie and pick up the cable."

I nod and guzzle a bottle of water before I head to set. It's dark and cool inside, providing me with much needed relief from the scorching sun I was sweating in just moments earlier. After I grab a quick snack from crafty, I join in with the rest of the guys as we scramble to get the new shot lit.

Once things were up and running, we were informed that the set up probably wouldn't change much for a little while. "Now would be the perfect opportunity for all that cable outside to be picked up and sorted," the Gaffer announced over the walkie, "Best Boy, you can take whoever you want, but A.J., you're with me on this set."

So I stayed behind with the Gaffer as the Best Boy and the rest of the crew marched outside into what was rapidly becoming a rather nice and cool evening.

I had just settled into a cozy, unseen corner by camera where I would await my next orders when I hear the Best Boy over the walkie.

"Geeze, A.J. You couldn't tie this stuff up while you're at it?"

I sat there in silence because all I could think was "What... the... fuck."

I was out there, by myself, for hours, by myself, in the hot sun, BY MYSELF, wrapping all that heavy ass cable BY. MY. SELF. And there are FOUR of them out there right now in the cool air. None of them had to wrap a one single piece of that stuff and now they're bitching about having to tie them??

Was I really hearing this??

Sigh...

"Zombie Marie Curie!"

2011-05-11T16:08:00.000-07:00

For some reason, this comic struck a cord with me...

Dear Dolly Grip....

2011-05-07T18:38:00.000-07:00

I love you. I really do. I think you're an awesome person and you're really nice. And I'll run you a dolly bump whenever you need it. Usually before you even ask for one.

But do you think that maybe, just at least one of these times, you don't drop the hot stinger into a puddle of water when you're done with it?

Thanks.

"You're Lucky You're Working."

2011-05-03T15:48:00.000-07:00

Times are kinda tough right now.

With the pilots (mostly) done and over with and network shows on their season hiatus (and not to mention, runaway productions), the town is kinda dead save for a few cable shows and the usual mix of commercials, music videos, reality TV and independent projects.

In other words, most industry people I know aren't working right now.

Which makes it all the more miraculous that I've managed to keep slightly busy these days. Granted, I'm not exactly doing the 80+ hour work weeks like the previous month, but it's been enough to keep my head above water while most of my friends are coming up with nothing.

What sucks, however, is the form of guilt that comes with working when everyone else isn't. I'll be sitting on set in the sweltering hot California sun, or have an ungodly call time of 3am, or be on hour 16 of what was supposed to be a 12 hour day, and I can't say a damn word about it. Because no matter what the sucky situation, the reply from whoever's listening usually is, "You're lucky you're working. A lot of people aren't."

That answer always rubs me the wrong way.

Yes, I realize that a lot of people aren't working. And that sucks. And yes, I realize how easily I could have very much not be here, but I wouldn't exactly call it "luck."

Some odd years ago, when I was young and new to this town, I was chatting at lunch with a co-worker. During our small talk, he revealed that he had gotten a full ride scholarship to the rather prestigious school from which he had graduated from. "Wow..." I remarked, thinking how I wish I could've had my tuition paid for. "You're lucky."

"No." He looked at me straight in the eyes to make sure I'd understand his next point. "I wasn't lucky. I worked damn hard for that scholarship. It had nothing to do with luck."

And he was right. It's not like the school threw his name into a hat with a few others and pulled out a winner. I don't know what exactly the scholarship guidelines entail, but I'm sure it had something to do with years of community service, extracurricular activities, a history of impeccable grades, and a kick ass essay or two. Either way, it wasn't something that happened over night. He had earned that full ride.

Which leads me back to my issue with the whole, "You're lucky to be working" response I often get this time of year. Yes, I suppose I do owe part of me working to "luck." Some say that "luck" is when opportunity meets preparation and I wouldn't have a paycheck if the "opportunity" part of it wasn't there, but what about the rest of it?

Like my colleague and his scholarship, the powers that be didn't just throw my name into a hat and randomly draw one out like a cast member on Five Dollar Fridays. I'd like to think that I somehow deserved to be there. That somehow, my years of hard work, networking, and knowledge of the craft is what is keeping me employed. With so many people filing for unemployment right now, there's a long list of other people the Best Boy could've called to fill my spot, but he didn't. He called me. So I'd at least like to think that hiring me can be attributed to me doing something right and not just random luck.

He Can Shove The Scrims Up His Ass For All I Care...

2011-04-27T23:09:00.000-07:00

"Hey A.J. Do you know what a 'scrim' is used for?"

I paused at this question. Not because I didn't know what a scrim was, but because I knew what was coming.

Having only met that morning, we were day players brought in to wrap out a set and oversee the return of all the gear to their respective rental places. Currently, we were counting scrims; piecing together complete sets whenever we could and making note of what was missing. Which, apparently, prompted the slightly past middle aged juicer to ask me the proposed question.

I stopped what I was doing and looked at him. I often get quizzed, especially by people who've never worked with me before and quite honestly, if I was sick of it before, it just plain pisses me off now. How many shows do I have to be on before I'm recognized as a capable addition to a crew? And how many years do I have to put into this industry to finally be taken seriously? How did they think I landed this gig to begin with? Did they just assume I fell off a turnip truck that was passing by the studio and decided to stroll in and start moving shit around because it looked fun? Did people really think I knew so little about this job??

But while most of these unwarranted pop quizzes were from guys who were looking for an easy ego trip, this guy at least seemed to be asking from a place of "helpfulness". To me, it was still a dick move to assume I didn't know what such as basic piece of gear was used for though, but just maybe a little less of a dick since he's been nice to me so far and genuinely thought he was doing me a favor.

"Yeah. Do you know what it's for?" I hoped my cadence would kind of make light of the situation while at the same time, signaling to him that it's an insulting question to ask me if he's serious. He didn't get it.

"Yeah. But I'm just making sure you know."

"It's to cut down the light," I replied as I got back to work. He nodded, putting a pause in the "conversation" while I silently pleaded that he move on and to let that be the end of it.

No such luck.

"And....?" he asked.

" 'And...?' " I was getting confused. I had answered his dumbass question. What else did he want from me?

"And... What else?"

I stopped what I was doing and looked at him again to see if he was serious. He was.

And what was even more frustrating was the way he posed the question. "And...?"?? What the fuck?? What do you mean "And...?"?? There's a million things I could've said to replace the ellipsis in his question.
"And... They usually come in sets of five*: two reds, a green, a half green and a half red."
"And... A red takes down a full stop of light; a green takes down half a stop."
"And... A red one is called a 'double'. A green is a 'single'. A half red is a 'half double'. A half green is a 'half single'."
"And... It reduces the intensity of the light without changing the color temperature."
"And... It's a pain in the ass to try to fit more than two of them in a blonde. But not as much of a pain in the ass as you are right now."

I could've fired back all that and more, but I didn't. If I did, I'd probably sound like a know it all, which personality wise, is just as bad as not knowing anything. And second of all, I didn't want to give him the satisfaction. If I answered him correctly and then some, he seemed like the type who'd sit there smugly with a nod that said, "Good girl" like I was some kind of pet he was proud of. No thank you.

"Listen, there's a lot of things I can say about a scrim." I didn't want to play his game anymore. Wait. Scratch that. I never wanted to play his game to begin with. "You're gonna have to give me a little more to go on about what specific answer you're looking for."

The guy looked at me. I couldn't tell if it was a "She's just covering up because she doesn't know the answer" look, a "Maybe my question is kinda ambiguous" look or something else entirely.

"And... It cuts down the light without softening it." He had answered his own question. There. Done.

It was a silly answer too, in my opinion. I never would have answered it that way because based on the design of a scrim, there's no way it could soften the light. Plus, that's why we have diffusion, which obviously softens (or "diffuses" if you will) the light. Set carts and equipment trucks generally have rolls of it in any kind of variation you could imagine. Pieces of the stuff are often pre-cut and ready to fly into set on a moments notice. Even if you didn't know what a scrim was, you'd have to be a moron to be in this business and not know what diffusion was for, and by that sense, one can safely assume that a scrim didn't diffuse the light simply because we have diffusion.

Even if I had gone on a five minute tirade and rattled off everything I could about a scrim in hopes of hitting on the one answer he was looking for, I probably wouldn't have gotten it. He might as well have said "And... They get really hot if left in a light." An answer so obvious that it wouldn't have crossed my mind.

But whatever. The question was done and answered. Can we get back to work now, please?

"So A.J...."

I cringed.

"Do you know why they call it a 'Source Four'?"

Ugh.

* Well, where I come from anyway. :)

It's Not A Good Idea.

2011-04-23T21:18:00.000-07:00

The following is a list of things that should NOT be placed directly behind a parked production truck, because well, it's not a good idea:

- Dumpsters.
- Crafty.
- Background holding.
- Wardrobe racks.
- Camera cart. (Exception: see below)
- Any kind of cart for that matter, unless it belongs to the same department as the truck.
- A Producer's car.*
- A picture car.
- An assortment of ladders.
- The generator.
- A condor or scissor lift.
- Heavy ass pieces of set dressing that needs a forklift to move.
- Video village.
- Basically anything else.

Simply because, and you may want to sit down for this, despite the truck looking all peaceful and innocent and content with where it's parked....

LIFT GATES NEED TO COME DOWN.

And it'll happen whether or not all your shit's in the way.

*To that note, it's probably not a good idea to park behind a truck even if you leave enough room for the lift gate, because we'll probably need the extra space to roll the carts off the gate as well. Be especially aware if it's the grip truck. Just think about long sticks of speed rail and dolly track, the height of a lift gate and how it lines up with your windshield, and I'm sure you'll get the picture.

And I Was Just Trying To Be Nice...

2011-04-19T22:08:00.000-07:00

It’s a low budget shoot. The kind that mixes newcomers with a more experienced crew. The Dolly Grip is one of the newcomers, still trying to get a feel for the machine and figuring out the gears. It’s his first shoot as the official Dolly Grip and he’s excited and nervous at the same time. He’s a good guy, so the rest of us try to help him out as best as we can.

So when I overhear the AD saying the next shot is going to be one with a few boom moves in it, I toss the Dolly Grip a hot stinger. “Juice up, Dolly Grip,” I warn him. “The next one’s heavy on your boom.”

The Dolly Grip nods in appreciation and as I hear the familiar hum of the dolly charging up, I step away to tend to the rest of my job. A few minutes later, I hear the also familiar click of the dolly getting its fill and shutting off. So I go to retrieve my stinger.

As I bend down to pick it up, I’m stopped by a pissed off Camera Operator.

“Hey,” she says. Apparently, she had witnessed the short exchange I had with the Dolly Grip a few moments earlier. “Next time, you tell me about what’s coming up in the next shot. Not him.”

I looked at her with what was probably a confused look on my face. “Huh?”

“You told him that the next shot was a boom. You tell me that next time. Not him.”

Uh... WTF?? I’m a juicer. I do lighting. I provide power for the set. And short of occasionally helping the Camera Assistants find power to charge their batteries, I have no reason to talk to anyone in the camera department, let alone the Camera Op. I don't know how they do it on other sets she's been on, but I've never been on a job where it was a juicer's duty to keep them informed about what shots are next. Granted, it's not my responsibility to keep the Dolly Grips informed either, but anyone who works below the line will tell you that set electricians have an allegiance towards grips more than any other department. Plus, running him a stinger now saves me the trouble of doing it later when I've got a list of other things to do, and truth be told, he's a lot nicer than she is.

So what the hell makes her think it’s my responsibility to inform her of what the next shot entails? And further more, what makes her think she can talk to me that way?? I get that on a job like this with a crew of mixed experience, it’s not uncommon for the more seasoned members to guide and inform the newbies of what they may not know, but I know she hasn’t been in this industry much longer than the Dolly Grip I was helping out. In fact, this was her first gig as an operator. So who the hell does she think she is? I guess her new found power was getting to her head.

I roll my eyes at her, mumble “Whatever” and continue on with my job. It wasn't my responsibility to correct her misguided assumptions about job descriptions either and I figured she'd learn the hard way soon enough. But for the rest of the day, she glared at me whenever I walked anywhere near the dolly or her camera.

Wow. Way to be an unprofessional bitch, Camera Op.

The Next Time My Phone Wakes Me Up, It Better Be For Work...

2011-04-15T09:50:00.000-07:00

My phone is annoying me lately. It keeps ringing.*

The frustrating thing is that it’s not necessarily ringing off the hook from work offers. It’s ringing unnecessarily.

Let me explain.

I’ve been lucky enough to be working a lot lately. Which is a good thing, especially if you‘re a dayplayer like me. The not so good thing is that a lot of the jobs I’ve been getting are night shoots or splits, so instead of the usual 6am to 10am call times that people usually get, I’ll get one in the late afternoon or just before sunset, meaning that I’ll be working well into the night and often until dawn.

While the thought of such a schedule is enough to make most people groan, I actually don’t mind them so much provided that I’m given enough of a warning to get my sleep on the day before (or at least attempt to).

The problem arises at the end of the work “day” when I’m at home and crawl into bed. The sun will usually be rising in the pale blue morning sky as I close my window shades and plop onto the mattress like a kid belly flops into a pool on the first day of Summer. Within minutes, if not seconds, I’ll drift into a deep slumber. Working nights, unless you’ve been doing it for an extended period of time, takes a toll on you no matter how much you try to prepare for it.

Occasionally, since the rest of the world revolves around a schedule that’s the opposite of yours, you’ll be rudely awakened well before your much needed seven hours of sleep by such things as leaf blowers, lawn mowers, garbage trucks, and noisy neighbors. These things are obviously beyond your control and you can do nothing but just accept being prematurely woken up by them as a part of life. That’s just the way the cookie crumbles.

Which makes it even more frustrating when you’re trying to sleep in on a day when the neighbors are gone, the gardeners aren’t around and it’s not even trash day, but you’re woken up anyway… By your friends and colleagues.

It seems to be inevitable. About two hours or so after my head hits my fluffy pillow, my phone will ring, usually from a text or something. And the message is almost always something frivolous, like sharing the contents of their breakfast burrito or a funny encounter with an eccentric homeless guy while they were rigging somewhere downtown.

It’s frustrating and pisses me off with no one to blame because as I’ve said before, the rest of the world isn’t on my schedule. How are they supposed to know that while they’re out enjoying the warm California sunshine, I’m still happily wrapped up in my comforter in a darkened room?

But what really irks me are those messages that come at a time that would piss me off even if I wasn’t working nights. For example, I was woken up at 7am by one the this morning from a friend “sharing“ an anecdote about his car. Yes, I realize that in the world of call times, 6am isn’t unheard of so depending on what I was working on, it might not be too far of a stretch to think I was already up at that hour too. But in my opinion, it’s one thing if they send me a silly text message if they know I’m awake at that hour, but it’s a whole other issue if they just assume I’d be up. Because chances are, unless I have are reason to be up that early, I’m not.

And further more, I was so incensed about how thoughtless the dumbass was being that I had trouble getting back to sleep, making me tired and cranky for the rest of the day. This has happened more than just a few times.

Sure, a simple solution to this seemingly mild yet definitely irritating problem would be to just simply shut off my phone. But unfortunately, it’s easier said than done. The last time I did that, I woke up to half a dozen messages on my phone from my boss and production. The first couple messages were informing me of some changes that were made, and the rest were frantic calls wondering where I was and why wasn’t I calling them back. Apparently, it’s unheard of in this business to shut your phone off for any extended period of time.**

And if this post sounds like a frivolous rant, it’s probably because I’m sleep deprived and cranky.

* That is, if my phone actually made a ringing sound. Despite having a long list of ring tones to choose from, “ring ring” isn't one of them.

** Even if you’re on set.

You Know You've Made It Big When...

2011-04-09T02:07:00.000-07:00

... you're on a shoot where their crafty keeps you better fed than most caterers you've had.

Reason #28 Of Why I Refuse To Do Condor Duty On Low Budget Shoots...

2011-04-02T07:01:00.000-07:00

It's nighttime and we're getting our condor into place for the upcoming shots. The residential street we're on has a slight slope to it, and as the Gaffer kept instructing the operator to keep going forward, I could tell the guy up in the bucket was getting concerned about how (un)level this heavy piece of machinery was getting. Finally, the Gaffer was happy with the placement of the base and was ready for the arm to start booming up.

"Hold on a sec," came the operator's voice over the walkie. "Can someone on the ground double check to see whether or not I need some cribbing*?"

Another co-worker and I mill around the bottom. Granted, he is on a slope, but it wasn't a very noticeable one and we both decided that while it probably wasn't necessary based on where the basket was going to be, it couldn't hurt to have them.

"Well, better safe than sorry is what I always say," called the Gaffer after hearing our prognosis. "Hey Best Boy, can you get some cribbing out to the condor?"

The Best Boy, who was standing next to me, copied his boss' call over the walkie and then proceeded to grumble. "Ugh... I miss [his usual condor guy]."

I actually happen to prefer working with my current colleague instead, so I asked him why.

"Because," he replied, "he complained less."

Um... What??

I couldn't believe what I had just heard. The guy who was about to go 60ft up in the air in something the size of a bathtub was asking a simple question concerning his safety, and the Best Boy interpreted it as whining.

WTF?

*For those who are unfamiliar, by rolling onto them, the cribbing creates a level surface and safer operating environment for the condor. I've also heard them referred to as "leveling blocks".

It Always Perplexes Me When...

2011-03-29T21:05:00.000-07:00

... on super small shoots (as in, less than fifteen people including the cast), Production still thinks it's a good idea to supply all their crafty from Costco. A small budget like that is usually blown on two or three bulk items, and believe me, no one wants to eat nothing but trail mix and over-sized muffins all day... on a three day shoot.

"Well, That's Easy For You To Say..."

2011-03-25T23:55:00.000-07:00

We had just wrapped a show and my compadres and I are celebrating the occasion by getting a few drinks after work. No one was aching to get home so they can rest up for the next day. No one was counting the hours until the next meal. And no one was shooting the Director/Producers/Talent dirty looks to try to speed the day up. The stress and pressure of keeping a shooting schedule were gone, and all that was left was a few of us hanging out, having a good time and shooting the breeze.

Somehow, the topic of dealing with non-industry folks came up and I mentioned how I hated answering the "What do you do for a living?" question as there's no easy, simple and/or accurate way to explain it. In all honestly, I don't even think my own family understands what it is that I do.

"Well, I have a pretty simple answer when I get asked that," one of the guys says with a mischievous smile. "When I don't want to be bothered, I just tell them I'm a plumber."

There was a slight silence at the table before one of the other guys piped up. "Wow... That's genius. That really is. Because it's kind of in the same realm as what we do. You know, the hard labor, blue collar shit, but everyone knows exactly what a plumber does so it doesn't invite a lot of questions. I think I'm gonna steal that one."

The first guy smiles with pride. "It's yours," he says.

"Wait... I admit it's a pretty brilliant answer. But what about me?" I asked.

"What about you?"

"What would be a good fake profession for me to answer with? I can't really say plumber because that'll invite more questions since there's not a whole lot of female ones out there."

Silence hit the table again as everyone racked their brain to come up with something.

And then the night went on with my question unanswered...

Related Reading.

PSA.

2011-03-22T07:46:00.000-07:00

For those of you on the West Coast (more specifically, those of you in SoCal), Cinegear just opened up their attendee registration. It's free to register up until the 28th of this month, after which you'll have to pay $20 at the door to get in.

In my opinion, as great as the Expo is, it's not really worth the $20, but is definitely worth the free price. Even if the prospect of checking out new gear doesn't excite you, the event is usually a good place to run into and catch up with old colleagues and score some free swag.

Double Dipping.

2011-03-17T19:34:00.000-07:00

When I first started in this business, oh so many years ago (okay, more like a handful), I would work my little ass off as much as I could.

Eighteen hour days? No problem.

Jump between day shoots and night shoots? Where do I sign up?

In fact, the more of a stupid idea it sounded and the more exhausting it’d be, the more I reveled in it. It was kind of like a test of endurance. A badge of honor you wore that could invoke future bragging rights. “Oh yeah? Well one time, I worked an 14 hour shift… in the rain… with no rain gear!” “I don’t want to hear about how you only got four hours of sleep last night. I was in Vegas yesterday and I drove from there straight to set!”

One of the more common, yet stupid things you could do is “Double Dip.” Double dipping basically means that you’re more or less double booked and will be working two jobs in one day, usually back to back. For example, you may have a 5am call for a feature and later on in the day, have a 6pm call for a music video. As long as the first job wraps in twelve hours or less and you don’t get stuck in traffic, that kind of schedule is pretty feasible.

Not all double dips result in a 24+ hour marathon of work though. If you’re lucky, one of those gigs (or both if you’re really lucky) may be a simple load in or wrap out that requires you to be there for no more than a few hours. But generally speaking, if you double dip, you should clear out your schedule for the following day because you’ll be a walking zombie by the end of it all.

My longest work session was a triple header; working three different jobs back to back. It happened not too long after I moved out here and it evolved out of a perfect storm of early wraps, last minute calls and unexpected overtime. I wasn’t exactly prepared for working a day and a half straight, but I do remember looking back at it and going, “eh, that wasn’t too horrible. I even have enough energy to make myself some breakfast before I hit the hay.” And the rebound time wasn’t as bad as I was expecting either. I was ready for more action after about six hours of sleep.

But that was then. Due to another perfect storm of an early wrap and a last minute call, the opportunity for me to double dip came up recently. “Eh, what the hey,” I thought to myself, “It shouldn’t be too bad.”

Brother, let me tell you, it definitely wasn’t as good as I remembered it. I was dying by hour 18. I wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole and take a nap, this job be damned.* I had no interest in wrapping up cable or adjusting any lights. I just wanted to take a nice, hot shower. I wanted to crawl into my warm bed. I just wanted to be done with the day and go home. I couldn’t sit still for more than a few minutes, otherwise I’d drift off to sleep and I’d never snap out of it. Which meant I had to constantly keep moving just to keep awake, which ended up tiring me out even more. Other than a slightly larger take in pay for that week, I was basically in a lose-lose situation.

That day made me realize that despite still being fairly young, I’m still not as young as I used to be. I’m not sure if it’s the added years to my age, the added years of work, or both, but my body can’t seem to take that kind of a beating anymore. Two, even three jobs, back to back never used to be a problem for me, and now I can’t even make it through one and a half without regretting my decision to try to do it all. Sure, maybe it wouldn’t have been as bad if I had some warning and could have planned for it a little better. Perhaps sneak in some extra sleep the night before. Maybe throw an energy drink or two in my work bag. But in all honesty, I hope I remember how utterly miserable I felt this time around so that next time the opportunity to double dip comes up, I’ll think twice about it before I take the job.

*It should be noted that one of the reasons double dipping is frowned upon, is the fact that you won’t be starting job #2 fresh. Instead, you’ll start the “day” off stale and burned and for the most part, won’t be as good as you should be for the 2nd crew, which is pretty bad form and unfair to your colleagues. However, in this particular case, I made it very clear to the Best Boy what my situation was and he told me to come in anyway.

Just For Fun...

2011-03-13T16:49:00.000-07:00

Unlike most music videos who blatantly include film gear in their backgrounds (either because it looks cool, they can't hide it, or don't seem to care), this one embraces it somewhat differently. And I gotta say, I'm kinda liking it. Instead of equipment being things that are only used and never seen on camera, the Art Department did such a fantastic and unique job of weaving what most will never see into the set that things almost become hidden in plain view. I've watched this video a few times now, and each time, I notice something new that would've otherwise been kept off screen.

It's kinda cool.

Procrastinating Isn't A Good Idea.

2011-03-09T10:23:00.000-08:00

I’m day playing on some feature. It’s Thursday.

Gaffer: "Hey, A.J. We’re going to need extra hands next Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday. Keep that in mind."
Me: "Uh… okay… But isn’t that really the Best Boy’s decision?"
Gaffer: "Yeah, but you’re always his first call anyway. I'm just giving you a heads up."

I nod. That part is true. The Best Boy has stated before that I’m usually his first call and for as long as I’ve known him, I’ve never heard of a project he’s on that he didn’t call me for.

Gaffer: "Anyway, just keep those dates open."

The day ends, and since I’m not needed on Friday, the Best Boy says goodnight and sends me on my way without any mention of upcoming days. Then Friday comes and goes and I still hear nothing from the Best Boy. The same goes for Saturday and most of Sunday. Then, on Sunday night, just as I’m about to crawl into bed, I get a call from him asking if I’d like to work on Monday.

I tell him sure, but in my head, I’m thinking, “WTF?? You knew about this LAST WEEK and you’re just calling me now?”

Even though I’m on the top of this guy’s list, I usually try not to assume anything, so I chalk it up to the possibility that maybe, for whatever reason, he had asked someone else and that person bailed on him the night before. Whatever. I go into work on Monday anyway.

That day, during lunch, as we all sit at the table and eat our chicken, the Gaffer and Best Boy discuss their game plan for Friday, their next big day.

Gaffer: "Who do we have for extra crew that day?"
Best Boy: "I don’t know yet. I haven’t made any calls about it."

Same thing happens on Tuesday.

Gaffer: "Who do we have for Friday?"
Best Boy: "I’m not sure. I haven’t gotten around to making any calls about it yet."

Wednesday.

Gaffer: "Who’s on the crew for Friday?"
Best Boy: "Dunno yet."

I'm off Thursday, so I don't know if the same conversation repeated itself earlier in the day, but that night I get a call from the Best Boy.
“Hey A.J. You available for tomorrow?”

I’m actually already booked, so I turn it down.

Friday morning, I get another call from him.
“Hey A.J. Do you know of anyone who’s available to work today? I'm having a hard time filling the spots.”

I tell him I’ll see what I can do, but that short of a notice this time of year? I knew what the answer was before I started making calls for him.

The funny thing is, if he had asked me when he first knew about the extra-man heavy day, he would’ve had me booked for it. And if he had come up to me the day before (and not a half hour before call) saying he was having trouble rounding out the crew, I’m pretty confident that I could’ve scrounged someone up for him.

The next time I saw him, he was complaining about how peeled they got that night since they were short a couple of guys. All I could do was sit there and hold my tongue. I felt for the rest of his crew, but not for him. As the Best Boy, he should’ve been thinking ahead and not leaving things like that down to the last minute. The others working below him depend on him to protect them as much as possible from being overworked and undermanned, and instead, they got a horrible night that burned them. All because one guy didn’t make a simple phone call when he had the chance.

Theme Days.

2011-03-05T13:02:00.000-08:00

Every once in a while, I’ll find myself on a show where "Theme Day" makes a regular appearance. Usually on a Friday. That means that once a week, everyone’s supposed to show up dressed in accordance to whatever’s noted on the call sheet. “Camo Day.” “Hawaiian Day.” “Western Day.” “80’s Day.” On days like these, the set can end up looking pretty bizarre as you have an army of people who look more like they belong in a Trader Joe's than a working film set.

I hate theme days.

From my experience, they’re usually concocted by someone sitting in the AD trailer all day and thinks it’ll be fun. And the theme itself is often centered around what they have in their closets at home and what they might feel like wearing the next day. Granted, it may be their attempt at lightening up what may be a miserable shoot, but in all honesty, I’d rather they direct their efforts to making the set more efficient and get my ass home faster instead of dictating my wardrobe choices for the rest of the week.

Another thing I don’t like about Theme Days is the unrealistic expectation that the g/e crew can participate. Sure, we may be able to throw on the appropriate patterned clothing for themes like Camo Day, but I’m sure as hell not going to run around the set in cowboy boots because one of the ADs think they look cute in a Western hat. Tie Day? Forget it. Between my jacket, surveillance kit, the occasional ID badge and ten other things dangling from my belt, I’m not about to voluntarily wear yet another item on my person that has the potential to get caught and snagged on all this heavy, awkward and dangerous equipment we’re dealing with.

Plus, often times, I don’t even have the shit in my wardrobe that would require me to participate. Disco Day? Yeah, I’ve got nothing in my closet from that era. Sure, a decade appropriate outfit wouldn’t be that hard to scrounge up after a trip or two to a thrift store, but who the hell’s got time for that when you're working on a show? Not to mention how ridiculous it’d be to spend money on an outfit you hate, for a day you hate, on a shoot you hate, that you can’t even work in.

And sometimes, when I do happen to have an appropriate piece of clothing to fit in with the proposed theme, it’s usually nice enough (read: in good condition without rips, stains or holes) that it's part of my non-work wardrobe and I don’t want to risk fucking it up at work as I climb on ladders and pull cable from the mud.

It’s also not just me that’s being a spoil sport about the whole thing. I know a camera op who refuses to participate for the same exact reasons I ~~listed~~ bitched about above. I also know a Gaffer who refused to participate in “Gangsta Day” because he didn’t think it was appropriate to make light of the environment he grew up in. And the good boom ops out there also often refuse to participate due to their need to wear dark colored clothing, lest they be caught on camera from reflections and what not.

In short, I hate theme days. I think they’re a stupid idea. And if you start to pay attention to who’s usually spearheading them on a set, it’s more often than not those who sit in a trailer for most of the day and not those who do the manual labor on a set. I’m not saying their job isn’t hard or demanding, but they do tend to be so far removed from what the rest of us really do, that they often fail to understand why you’re refusing to wear your pajamas to work when it's so clearly stated to do so on the call sheet.

Sure, sometimes seeing the AD or Director walk onto set wearing a goofy outfit will get a laugh, but that kind of amusement usually only lasts for a second. I’d much rather see their efforts channeled into their job rather than their outfits.

You Know You've Made It Big When...

2011-02-28T14:23:00.000-08:00

... you're on a shoot where they have music playing in the honeywagon.

Reader Question.

2011-02-22T23:58:00.000-08:00

I'm short on time this week, so I'm cheating by reposting a question that was left in the comments last week:*

Reader JesseF asked:

I've been gobbling up every industry blog I could locate for the last month and I'm just starting out in the grip field.
Having yet to land a gig I have one concern and that's that most of the blogs I see flat out state most everyone is under the age of 30. I happen to BE 30, and though I'm sure not old (and I look much younger) would people look askance at me for being "over the hill" in terms of starting out fresh in Hollywood? I have no desire to write, direct, etc. I really REALLY want to get my hands dirty and grip.

I'm throwing myself at it full tilt, doing whatever it will take to land a spot no matter what I have to climb over on the way there.

Maybe age gave me more confidence and clarity, but my only worry now is could it hold me back in how others perceive me? Regardless I'm going to still try, but advice is always welcome!

My opinion? The simple answer is, as long as you can do the job and get along with everyone, no body gives a damn about your age. The not so simple answer is, people may care about your age as much as people care that I'm a female. Take that as you will.

Either way, if you really do look much younger than 30, then what are you worried about?

*Side note: While I love it when discussions are started in the comments, the OCD side of me was slightly miffed when I saw his comment because it was so far off the topic of the post.

"I Stopped Being Nice."

2011-02-18T11:15:00.000-08:00

“How do you do it?”

I look up at my friend with an inquisitive look on my face. “What do you mean?”

“The stuff you’ve been working on lately has been pretty stellar gigs. And not only that, you seem to be working all the time. Meanwhile, I’ve been doing this just as long as you have and I’m still stuck getting paid less than minimum wage on shit shows. How do you do it?”

I put down my cup of coffee and look at my friend. Unlike me, he’s got a wife, a kid and a house to support. I don’t know how he does it working the kind of shows he does, but despite his usual upbeat, “anything goes” attitude, today, he’s looking worn down and dejected. Something tells me he’s getting desperate. I feel for the guy.

“A.J., you used to work on the same kind of no budget productions that I do. How did you move up?”

“You really want to know how I started getting better gigs?”

“Yes.”

“You’re not going to like it.”

“Tell me anyway.”

“Okay. I stopped being nice.”

“…What?”

“I stopped being nice to productions.”

He looks at me, one eyebrow raised, as I continue.

“I got tired of Productions fucking up all the time and me having to cover their ass. So I started saying ‘No’ to them. If they were expecting me to be an extra, I’d refuse. Even if I wasn’t really doing anything at the time, I’d say no to doing an emergency expendable run. If they expected me to drive the g/e truck as well or hold the boom mic for a shot, I’d tell them to find someone else. If they wanted us to work over twelve hours with no OT pay or stiff us on our turnaround hours, I’d refuse to do it and either leave early or show up late. Basically, if it wasn’t in my job description, I wouldn’t do it.”

“And that worked?”

“Yeah… Interestingly enough, I started getting work from the people I met on those jobs.”

And it was true. Sometimes it was the Producer who’d call me for the next gig and sometimes it was the Best Boy or Gaffer who’d hook me up with my next paycheck. Either way, it wasn’t the jobs that I’d bust my ass and bend over backwards for that would call me back. No matter how much I tried to show them I was a “team player” and did whatever they asked of me, those were the ones who never called me again, adding to my frustration and leading me to my “enough is enough” moment where I started putting my foot down.

I could tell my friend was contemplating what I had just said, as he is definitely the “Sure, I’ll do whatever you ask me to and I‘ll do it with a smile” type of guy . So I continued on.

“It seems counter intuitive, doesn’t it? I mean, you’d think the people who you’d do anything for to please them and save their show would be the ones who call you for their next big job instead of the ones who you tell to fuck off and find someone else while you sit on your ass. But I guess, in a way, it kinda makes sense. I mean, if I was looking to hire a crew, I’m more likely to call someone who seemed the most professional. You know, the ones who stick to their job description; someone who’ll be there when I call for something instead of being a man down because Production needed more extras. By saying no to stuff that isn’t your job, I guess you’ll come off as someone who knows what their place is on set. You may come off to some people as a self centered jack ass, but if you think about it, on bigger shows, Productions don’t even think about asking their crew to help with a lock up or to fill in as background. I guess, in short, the key to landing the better gigs is to act like you belong on one.*”

We eventually finish our coffees and go our separate ways. I’m pretty sure he didn’t know quite what to do with the advice I had just given him. He’s one of the nicest guys I know and saying no to anyone, especially those who are connected to his paycheck, would be difficult for him to do. But at the same time, he also knows he can’t keep working the same low budget POS jobs that he has been for the past several years. He’s definitely aching to move up and something has to change in order for him to do so.

I guess kind of biting the hand that feeds you is somewhat of a risky thing to do. Saying “no” to Production may rub them the wrong way and result in burning whatever small bridges you have now. But saying “yes” all the time may prevent you from discovering another path that may get you to where you’re trying to go.

It’s a tricky thing, but it incidentally worked out for me. I just hope that if he does start putting his foot down, he’ll start moving up to where he deserves to be.

*Of course, this is based on my experience only. It’s also worth noting that if you have a shit attitude, you’ll most likely not be called back by anyone. YMMV.

Ego Check.

2011-02-14T11:21:00.000-08:00

I like to think of myself as a pretty valuable player in this game of Hollywood Freelancing. I know what I know, I know what I don’t know, and what I don’t know, I’m pretty confident I’ll learn. I pay attention to the details, think tasks through, and am an absolute delight to be around.

In short, I’m awesome and you want me on your crew.

Well, if you’re a low budge indie production anyway. I’ve been in this world for a while now and know how things work. I know what your low budget options are if you want a particular look without spending the cash. Need something ghetto rigged? I’m your gal. Want the inside scoop on new or specialized gear? I’m on a first name basis with a lot of the vendors and have amassed a sizable collection of product catalogs. And I, more or less, know how this stuff is put together and I know how it works (well, more than the average person on the crew anyway).

Over the years, I like to think that I’ve built myself a pretty solid reputation as someone who’s dependable and knows her shit. And in turn, I’ve made an okay living for myself in the low budget world and eventually, I found a tribe who took me in. Sure, there would be the occasional side job here and there, but I soon found myself in a situation where a good majority of my work came from them and it was a good situation to be in.

I felt like I had found a really, really good group of people to work with and I felt accepted and loved. I looked forward to working with them and other departments seemed to like having me around as well. There were times when my bosses would even turn to me for input on a particular rig and bounce ideas off of me. I even turned down some really choice jobs for them because I'm just that loyal.*

Eventually, there came some jobs that I absolutely couldn’t turn down and my Best Boy encouraged me to go after them. “Don’t worry about your spot here. You’ll still be my first call on the next one.” And true to his word, it was. But the amazing opportunities kept coming and he kept telling me to take them, assuring me that I’d always be welcomed back whenever I wanted.

Soon, the sweet sugar rush of new work ended and I crashed into a state of unemployment. Or rather, near unemployment. Because thank goodness for my old low budge crew, who had a spot for me when I needed it. And I fell back into the familiar rhythm of working with these guys who I had missed. It’s as if I had never left, but even better, I felt like I was even more valuable to this tribe now. During our time apart, I was on bigger, better shows with more equipment and different techniques and I soaked up a lot of knowledge and came back with a lot more experience under my belt.

The new production names added to my resume meant that I was now worth more, and seeing as how I was still willing to work for the same low rate on the same crew as before, a crew that enjoyed working with me as much as I them, keeping me on the payroll seemed like a no brainer.

Then, I got a call.

Actually, I was expecting the call. After going dark for a couple weeks, I had heard through the grapevine that these guys were preparing for another gig to be coming up soon and I was looking forward to slinging cable and touching lights again. I was anticipating getting a call any day now with a call time and location. What I wasn’t expecting, however, was the call I actually got.

"Hey A.J.," the Best Boy started out with. It was good to hear from him and I was excited to get back to work. "Here's the thing..." And as he continued to talk, the smile faded from my face and my heart sank.

I was being dropped from the crew.

The Best Boy tried to explain to me the best he could that it wasn’t personal. Some of it was political and blah blah blah, but all I could focus on was the part where I wasn’t coming back. At least, not for a little while. He had mentioned something about day playing, but I think we both know how that will work out. If I can't get work from him, I need to get it from somewhere else, which will make it hard to sync my "available" days with his "extra man" ones (that is, if I'm able to find work elsewhere).

After the call ended, I sat there for a minute or so, staring at my phone, thinking, “Did that just really happen? Did they just dump me?!?"

I was in disbelief. I felt like the rug had just been pulled out from underneath me. I was crushed, confused, and kinda pissed at the same time. Working with these guys, these low budget indie guys, was supposed to be a sure thing. Not only did we mesh well and have a good working rhythm down to a tee, but I'm the one who was able to land some pretty high end gigs last year so to dump someone of my caliber doesn't make a whole lot of sense.

Sure, I could easily just roll my eyes and tout it as the whole thing being their loss, but in reality, this was a good ego check for me. I thought I was going for a touch down, but instead, I got body slammed so hard I’m having trouble remembering which team I’m on. It’s a cold, hard reminder that no matter how good I think I am and no matter how much I think I’m an integral part of a team, nothing’s a sure thing in this industry. Things change all the time, often without warning. You’re hot and in demand one minute, and you’re in the unemployment line the next.

I guess in a way, I kind of saw this coming. While this business, as Michael Taylor says, is a tribal one, it's rare to find someone who's been a part of the same tribe for their entire career. Hollywood is comprised of a river of people, always flowing. People come, people go. We're always on the move, trying to find a place for ourselves and at the same time, trying to move up in the world. We linger in our familiar groupings until something changes; whether it be a Best Boy trying to be a Gaffer or you're the one who decides to make the jump. While I enjoyed my time with these guys, I always knew things couldn't be this way forever. I'd have to leave at some point. But I always thought it'd be later rather than sooner, and I always thought I'd be the one to leave them; not the other way around.

*... or stupid.

It Sucks When...

2011-02-11T22:39:00.000-08:00

... you're on a show with such long hours that the sun's not even up yet when you get to work, but it has already set by the time they call wrap.*

*It's even more disorienting when the show's being shot on a sound stage and you don't get to see real daylight at all.

Choosing Sides.

2011-02-08T22:59:00.000-08:00

Ladies and gentleman, I am a juicer.

For years, I've classified myself as a grip AND electric kind of gal. Whenever anyone inquired about my juicing or gripping capabilities, I'd make sure they knew I could do both jobs. The two positions are so intertwined (more so in the indie world than the Union one) that saying I could do both was a way of keeping my options open and accepting more work. But like any other facet of this industry, things started to shift and change, and I unknowingly found myself geared towards one department more than the other. This occurred to me a little while ago when I was doing my annual ritual of digging through pay stubs and sorting W-2s in anticipation of the upcoming tax deadline. I noticed that most of my jobs in 2010 consisted of me lugging around lights and cable and come to think of it, other than the occasional “swing” job on an ultra low budget/friend’s project/European crew, I haven’t been a grip for quite a while now.

This doesn’t mean that I’ll never (Kinos aside) touch a c-stand again, but it seems like I rarely, if ever, get those kinds of calls anymore. Most of my Key Grip/Best Boy Grip contacts have faded away into the ether during the will-they-won’t-they strike phase a couple of years ago when no one was even calling around for work anymore because it was a known waste of time to do so. And apparently, my lighting contacts stuck around because I guess I make a better juicer than a grip (or maybe none of my grip contacts were strong enough to survive the work shortage). Whatever the reason, since it’s been a while since I’ve worn the grip hat and my skills in that area are pretty rusty, unless the job is really sweet, it only makes sense to market myself as a juicer here on out.

And so here I sit. An official juicer.

Is this a step forward? I think so. Not because I think juicers are better than grips (no comment!) but because this industry seems to have a job classification thing going on where the more “specialized” you are, the better the jobs you get.

I remember when I was just starting out, fresh out of college and so naive of the what this business is really like. I had just moved to L.A. and was replying to every crappy job listing there was as long as it put me on a set. P.A., grip, electric, 2nd AC… It didn’t matter how much experience I had in any of those positions. Shows that replied back to me after seeing my anemic resume were usually ones that were desperate for a warm body to fill those spots, actual skill be damned.

Eventually, I found myself landing more g/e jobs than anything else. I guess a P.A. who can’t drive a truck over 15 mph doesn’t really have a place in the indie world of low budget shoots, and well, let’s just say that camera never worked out for me either. All that was left for me was grip and electric, which were the departments that were usually scrambling to find enough people anyway.

A turning point for me came one day when I got an e-mail from a Producer. An alum of my previous school, she was looking to crew up her next project and in a search for P.A.s, found my name through a directory of recent grads. She offered me a P.A. job. And despite work still being scarce at the time, I politely turned it down, citing that I was trying to focus on being more in the g/e departments. She kindly wrote back saying that while she couldn’t offer me a spot in another department, she understood where my answer was coming from. She ended her e-mail with, “It’s important to make those distinctions.” And she was right. How was I going to move up on the ladder of things if I was forever running around on the ground to whoever was calling? Sure, having multiple job titles under your name may land you more work in general, but as a guy who saw my overly cluttered first business card once said, “Jack of all trades. Master of none.”

From that day forward, I never took a job that didn’t involve a c-stand or a stinger in it’s job description, and the rest, I guess, is history. I started enjoying the work I did more. I started landing more jobs since I was no longer trying to schmooze everyone that was in a hiring position. I didn’t have to worry about impressing anyone but the Best Boy. And, more importantly, despite the jobs still sucking, they at least were getting a little better, bit by bit.

And the best jobs I had in the past year were the ones that classified me as an electric before I even knew I really was one. It seems like the higher you get on the food chain of productions, the less the lines between departments are blurred. To put it another way, if you’re on a show where a juicer only juices and a grip only grips, it’s probably a higher budget show that’s paying a better rate than another show that has it’s g/e crew do both grip AND electric.

Either way, it only seems logical that distinguishing myself as belonging to the “set lighting” department of things is a step forward. And despite the decision kind of being made for me (the transition from “g&e” to just “e” happened so organically that I didn’t even notice it until recently), I feel okay with it.

Oh, The Places You Will Go...

2011-02-03T11:34:00.000-08:00

It’s a gorgeous evening in Southern California. The kind where the air is cool and crisp without being chilly. The sun is slowly but surely creeping towards the horizon and while L.A. may be known for its smoggy air, you have to admit that all that haze sets the stage for some pretty magnificent sunsets, often turning the sky ablaze into a plethora of fiery reds, oranges, and cotton candy pink as night approaches.

To make the sight even better, I’m enjoying the view while lounging next to the rooftop pool of one of Hollywood’s swankiest, overpriced hotels. And the best part is, someone else is footing the bill while I'm here. As I lean back and take a sip of my drink*, I’m feeling like a rock star. Ah yes, this is the life…

How did I end up here? Two words: Music video.

Some band I’ve never heard of was shooting part of their video here and guess who got called to be on the crew? Me. Luckily, it wasn’t a very strenuous day, which lead to ample time for my cohorts and I to enjoy the location. How often do you get to spend the day in the VIP lounge in one of L.A.’s most exclusive clubs? I don’t know about you, but I don't get to do it very often. And as I watched the sun disappear and the night lights of the city start to twinkle on below, I realized that damn, I’ve experienced some pretty cool shit because of this job.

I’ve been in the middle of the desert with a flame thrower. I’ve ridden around in pass vans with actors I've admired. I’ve climbed on the walls of City Hall. I’ve helped make it rain in the middle of summer. Hell, I’ve even made it rain indoors. I’ve been in bars past two in the morning. I’ve seen some amazing musical performances while standing less than ten feet away from the band. Mansions in Beverly Hills? I’ve been in quite a few of them. I’ve had in and out privileges at an airport, explored closed down historical buildings, and had free reign in one of Malibu’s hot spot restaurants. I’ve been in prisons, both working and abandoned. I’ve seen circus acts up close and personal, horses inside a house, and a fat guy squeeze into footie pajamas. I’ve walked around a zoo at night. I’ve “surfed” on dollys in empty parking lots. I’ve been in Porsches, buses, trucks, RVs, ambulances, cop cars, and Santa’s sleigh. I’ve stood, by myself, in the middle of the road on a bridge in downtown Los Angeles without a single car in sight. I’ve seen the sun rise and set over mountain tops, sky scrapers and the ocean. I got to do all that and more because of this job.

Thanks to the locations being called for in any given script, I’ve had the opportunity to go, do and see some pretty awesome things that I wouldn’t have been able to otherwise. No one in my family has ever set foot in a $10,000/night suite, and I’ve spent a few days in a couple. None of my (non-industry) friends has ever seen Christmas in July. I have.

But on the flip side to that, there are some things that I wish I didn’t have to experience. Like lugging heavy gear up the fire escape in the rain. Or shivering in the cold while fifty feet up in the air. Or working in a place so vile that you’d rather face the bums and drunks peeing on the sidewalk outside.

And as I sat on that roof top, admiring the skyline below, I thought about all the places I’ve been and things I’ve gotten to do all because I work in the film industry. Despite the long hours, back breaking work and bad pay with the occasional shitty (sometimes literally) location, it’s times like these when I’m reminded why I love what I do and how I’m glad I didn’t settle for a better paying office job somewhere.

Eventually, as the band got ready to shoot again, I snapped out of my thoughtful state and got back to work. But this time, with a slight grin. Because let’s face it. While I may often bitch and moan about this business, this job can be kind of cool.

*Non alcoholic. I'm still at work, after all.

It's Kind Of Funny (In A Sad Way) When...

2011-01-30T13:07:00.000-08:00

... you're working for a sucky rate that seems even suckier when you realize that your expendables are essentially getting paid more than you are.

And All It Took Was A Phone Call...

2011-01-26T12:48:00.000-08:00

This has been the best day of work I’ve had so far this year. I’ve never worked with these guys before, but they’re fantastic. Super friendly and professional, they’re a joy to work with. And the gig itself is a pretty easy one. Production has everything under control and the DP’s shooting and lighting style is simple, but awesome. Everyone involved seems to be efficient in the way they work. In other words this was exactly how a shoot should be, and to top it all off, we were in and out of the location in under twelve hours with no muss and no fuss.

And since we were guaranteed to be paid for twelve hours of work anyway, we essentially “beat the clock” and got to enjoy the rest of our Saturday on the company’s dime. It rarely gets any better than this…

And to think that I almost missed out on it all because I was too chicken to make a simple phone call.

I don’t know what it is with me and phones, but I hate dealing with anything over a call. Especially since the only line I have is a cellular one, I’m often held captive to bad reception and sound quality leading to a lot of, “Wait, what did you say?” and “I’m sorry, but can you repeat that for me again?” And when the person on the other line is a source for future potential work, I can’t help but cringe and feel like I’m being annoying and difficult to deal with when I ask them to repeat something for the third time in a row. I can usually feel the exasperation in their voice.

And when they don’t pick up, I have the dreaded voice message to deal with. I don’t know about you, but I usually end up sounding like an awkward dork in voice mail, often leaving messages in non-sensical sentences with oddly placed info. Beeeep. “Hey, uh, Carl. This is A.J…. We, uh, met on that web shoot thing job and um… yeah. So anyway, I saw that I missed your call and so I’m just calling you back and yeah… I guess… um… Just give me a call back when you can. It’s about, uh, one…. thirty-ish on Tuesday. So… yeah. I guess I’ll talk to you later. Bye. [awkward rustling as I try to hang up].”

Ugh. I can be a mess on the phone.

Which I think can be why I just “happen” to pass up a number of jobs that require me to return a phone call. Sounding like an inarticulate dolt is not the first impression I like to make to a potential employer. And while not returning a call is probably a bad offense in itself, I’ve convinced myself that it's "better to remain silent and be thought a fool than to open your mouth and remove all doubt.” Logical? Maybe not. But my nerves seem to trump logic most of the time.

Which brings me back to this gig.

Long story short, through colleagues and friends, I’ve heard of this particular Gaffer for a while now. And he’s heard of me. It’s always been one of those “oh you two should totally work with each other” and “I can’t believe you haven’t met him/her already” type of situations.* But in one way or another, we just never had, whether it be that he’d already be crewed up or I’m already working.

Then one day, I got a message on my phone from him. He was looking for a crew. And low and behold, I wasn’t working at the time.

I stared at my phone in disbelief and conflicted about what I should do next. Despite many of my friends working right now, I haven‘t been on a set for quite a while and the job itself seemed pretty straight forward with no strings attached and the pay was actually rather decent. But on the other hand, I’d have to call the guy back in order to get the job and risk sounding all frazzled and incompetent. Damn. Hasn’t this guy ever heard of e-mail or text messages?

In the end, I realized that I’d be crazy to not take this gig, sucked it up, called him back, and after a few minutes of semi-awkward me on the phone, I had booked a job.

A couple days later, I’m on this set with an amazing crew and having a kick-ass (short) day and I can’t help but think how close I was to not being there all because I freak out about having to make a phone call. And on the flip side of that, I was also amazed that my next decent paycheck is a result of a simply just picking up the phone.

I know this may seem like a silly blog post (“A.J. puts in a phone call and books a job” isn’t exactly a thrilling tagline) but I guess it also goes to show that the simplest actions can have great rewards. And when that action is somewhat of a personal phobia, getting over that hurdle can make the benefits even that much sweeter.

*In a purely professional sense. No Mom wanting grandkids matchmaking here.

The Difference Between A Big Show And A Low Budget One...

2011-01-21T10:06:00.000-08:00

... If you're juicing for the day on a low budget show and you need a ladder that's at least an eight step, the grips will bring you a six step because they don't feel like lugging in anything bigger and "you can just top step it."

If you're juicing for the day on a big show and you need a ladder that's at least an eight step, the grips will bring you a ten step. When you thank them for their efforts, they look surprised and say, "Of course! We're not going to make you top step a ladder!"

♥.

Book Smarts Vs. Street Smarts.

2011-01-17T15:49:00.000-08:00

I've known this guy for some time now. He was just short of brilliant when it came down to things related to lighting and power theory. I had never worked with him directly, but I'll run into him every once in a while since we know many of the same people. He was always able to provide reasonable theories to problems that have stumped us on set. Like why my meter was giving me a funky reading, or what kind of light was giving us that weird color. He'd stand around and talk as we would listen like Socrates in a forum. He was a plethora of electrical wisdom and always explained things with great detail and confidence. It wasn't all that uncommon for someone who just met him to go, "Damn. That dude really knows his stuff."

Then one day, I showed up for work and he was there too. "Awesome," I thought to myself, "It'd be cool to learn from him on the job."

Only, it wasn't that great. In fact, we had to carry his ass all day and he was just horrible to work with. The first thing he did when we started laying out cable was mess up the knot code system.* And not only that, even with the rest of the department in agreement with each other and pointing out to him that he was mistaken, he kept insisting that his way was the right way. It finally took someone digging up a tattered version of the SLT Handbook and showing him the picture before he conceded (and based on his grumbling afterward, I'm pretty sure he was still convinced he's right).

Once we finally got all the cable done and everything was up and running, he made a big stink about how we needed to bond the generator to the house power.** Now, while this is true in many cases, sometimes we don't do it because it isn't really necessary (but don't tell OHSA that!), and this was one of those times. We were shooting outside of a warehouse with the nearest house outlet being inside where it was impractical for anyone to use. But that didn't stop him from leading a ten minute "discussion" on why it was important for us to do it anyway.*** Finally, the AD, who was getting impatient as to why we couldn't shoot yet, came over, heard what was going on, and made an announcement that no one was to plug anything in without asking an electric first (as it should be anyway), which finally shut the guy up and got us working again.

The rest of the day was filled with little... "eccentricities" of his, such as not being able to tell "lamp left" from "lamp right" and taking it upon him self to color mix the tubes in the Kinos.

By the end of the day, most of my colleagues and I were over working with him. It didn't matter how much knowledge he had if he couldn't manage to translate that to the practicalities of working on a real set and his know-it-all attitude made for a horrible work day.

I've never worked with him again after that, but I'll still see him around every now and then. And each time, he'll solve some kind of electrical mystery or sprout out some kind of knowledge, and while I'll listen to him and take what I can from what he's saying, inside, I can't help but shake my head and think, "Dude, you talk a big game but you had trouble hanging a light right side up."

*We tie a specific knot on each cable to easily identify what they are.
**Long electrical mumbo jumbo short, it's common practice (or rather, it's supposed be) to connect two different sources of power to each other with a cable to eliminate any difference in potential, yadda yadda yadda...
***In situations like these, we'd just refer to the Best Boy and whatever he says goes, but in this particular case, the usual Best Boy was out for the day and his substitute (at least seemed to) lack the authority to put the guy in his place.

My Two Cents.

2011-01-12T07:42:00.000-08:00

This blog is primarily about me and the industry. It's also no secret that I'm a female in a male dominated field, and so, a number of my posts relates to my experiences in regard to that fact.

And interestingly enough, I usually get two types of responses (whether it be from e-mails or comments) from those posts: The girls who go, "Yes! That's exactly how I feel / That's what happened to me too!" and the guys who go, "It's weird that being a girl is such a big deal."

The latter group usually mentions something about how it's weird I'm having all these problems because they see women on set all the time. Or they don't understand why some guys would find it so unusual to see a female juicer. And while those comments are awesome because it tells me that not all of the guys out there are sexist pigs, I feel like it kind of over generalizes the industry as a whole, because yes, while there are a number of women grips and electrics out there, they're still not as common as you may think.

To be put another way, the last time I heard, women make up about 3% of my respective departments. And if you're a follower of Michael Taylor's blog, you'll know that Hollywood is primarily a tribal industry in the sense that you work with the same people (more or less) a majority of the time. Pair that up with my observation that women in this field tend to hire other women, and it means that if you've ever worked with a female in the g/e department, then chances are, you've worked with others. Therefore, it may be odd to you that other tribes find it unusual when a woman is in their mix when your own cave is populated with them.

On the flip side of that, if you've never worked with that 3%, then you're likely to be part of the population that finds it rare to see a chick on set. And since 3% is a pretty small amount when you think about the thousands of grips and juicers out there, it's not all that hard to find those people.

Now here's another thing I've observed over the years: Even if you're in the "I work with women all the time" group, you may not be as accepting as you think you are.

For example, a friend of mine who I often exchange "war stories" with, often doesn't seem to take me seriously when I bring up the topic of there being fewer females than males in this business. "The gap's not as big as you're making it out to be. I know so many women grips and electricians," he once said to me, eyes rolling. "Oh really?" "Yeah, there's ---" and he proceeded to name a handful of them after a couple seconds of thinking. Which, to his credit, is more than a lot of guys can do. But then, as the chat fest continued, we started talking about the show I was on. While we may not exactly run in the same circles, we do know a lot of the same people and he thought it'd be fun to try to guess who the Gaffer was. And without missing a beat, he fired off at least a dozen names in the time it took him to name the handful of women just moments ago. Amazing. In the time it took him to name about five women who work in grip and electric, he could name over a dozen male names in an attempt to guess who was in a very specific position in a specific show I was on. I don't know how you can argue that our respective genders are considered equals in Hollywood after that.

Then there's the tale from a fellow female juicer I know. She has a (male) friend who works with women all the time and has no problem with it. In fact, he often recommends her to others who are looking for good crew. And even he's confessed to her that one time, while he was calling around piecing together a crew of his own, he looked down at the list of names and wondered if he perhaps had too many women on there and had concerns about whether or not he should add more men to handle the workload. That's when he paused what he was doing and had a "Wait, did I really just ask that?" moment. He ended the story with, "You just do that kind of stuff without realizing it. It's just so ingrained that you actually have to stop yourself."

I'm not saying that all guys think this way. But I am saying that even if you're completely comfortable working with women, you may still be biased (whether you believe they're everywhere or they're just as good as their male counterparts) and not realize it.

And then there's the "bulk factor". Most women (though definitely not all) who work in grip/electric are beefier than I am. These types of women are usually more accepted by the boys in the biz because they look like they can handle the heavy work load better. Send in someone with a vagina and weighs less than 150 pounds and/or stands under 5'9, and all of a sudden those guys are changing their tune about being okay with working with a chick. And, as offensive as this may sound, if you're a 130 pound female that stands at 5'4, you still have a pretty good chance of being accepted by your male peers right off the bat if you're a lesbian. I shit you not. I can't tell you how many times I've been approached by a guy on set who asks me if I, ahem, "play for the other team." "No... Why?" "Because all the other girls I know who do this job are either butch or a lesbian, but you're neither and I can't figure you out." While this type of question doesn't come up every day, as insulting as it is, it's happened to me often enough that it really doesn't surprise me anymore.

So yes, there are a number of women out there working grip/electric, and due to the nature of the business, some of us see them pulling cable and setting flags all the time. But since the pool of females is so small compared to the males, most people don't work with women often, and even when they do, there's a bunch of other factors to contend with, such as subconscious preconceptions, physical appearances and other stereotypes. This is the kind of stuff I've noticed over the years. So if you're a reader of this blog and continuously wonder why I keep having problems with sexist idiots, I hope maybe this sheds a bit of light on the situations that I deal with on an almost daily basis.

That's just my two cents on the topic. Feel free to add your own in the comments.

"Hey! You're Not Useless Afterall!"

2011-01-07T12:02:00.000-08:00

It's been a rough couple of days and this morning was no easier. We've been pre-rigging day in and day out, often re-doing things we've already done to meet the last minute changes from Production. So when the chance arises for us to take a break, no one has to tell us twice. My Brothers for the day and I immediately drop what we were doing and head out to the truck for some water and snacks.

So there I am, just chilling on the back of the lift gate, cold soda in my hand, enjoying the morning breeze against my damp skin. This was essentially a new crew that I was on, but I had been called back to play with them enough times that I was starting to really feel like one of the guys.

Just then, one of my coworkers who I've been primarily working with takes a seat beside me.

"You know," he starts off, "You really impressed me yesterday and this morning. You're starting to prove not to be useless afterall."

I turn to look at his face to see if there was any hint of joking at that last part. There wasn't.

"Um... What?"

"I mean it," he continues. "Yesterday was rough, but you just kept going without stopping. That was really great. You're helpful now."

I sit there, staring at him, jaw wide open and flabbergasted. Finally, I ask him, "So you're saying I've been doing nothing but fucking up all this time?" I spit out the question as lightheartedly as I could, hoping I could spin it into somewhat of a joke to give him a way to back peddle out of the insult he just threw at me. But he didn't take it.

"No, no, no... I'm serious. You're doing really well right now. Keep it up."

I take a good look at the guy. This was his way of genuinely paying me a compliment. What the fuck...?

So instead of going off on the guy, I tried to handle the situation as professionally as I could.

"You know," I said to him, "Thanks, but I really don't need to hear this from you."

"What?" He seemed confused now. He honestly didn't seem to think anything was wrong with what he just said to me.

"I'm saying, I don't need to hear this from you. So you can just save it."

Finally sensing that something he said had rubbed me the wrong way, he tried to "validate" me even more. "I don't think you understand. I'm saying it's a good thing that you're useful now. I really mean it!"

I try to find the right words to make him understand why saying "You're finally good after working with us for so long" can be insulting. "I know you mean that as a compliment, but by saying that, you're also saying that I've been useless for the past few weeks I've been with you guys."

"Yeah, but you were helpful yesterday and today. I mean it too. Don't worry. It's a good thing."

I give up. He wasn't getting it. And the more I tried to explain it to him, the more aggravated I was getting. I wanted this conversation to end. "I get that it's a good thing that I don't totally suck right now, but you know what? I don't want to hear it."

And with that and a curt "Fine. Have it your way," he gets up and leaves me alone with my now flavorless soda.

Who the hell does he think he is to be talking to me like that? Sure, I'll admit that he's been on this crew way longer than I have and he does have more experience with bigger shows than I do, but I've also been in this business longer overall. On this specific crew, he does have seniority over me, but I've also proven to have some skills that he doesn't. Despite me still learning the ways of this group, I feel like I've done enough to earn my keep.

I may not be the best at my job, but I'd like to at least think I'm a hard worker and at the very least, I'd like to think I'm not counterproductive to the team. In fact, early on in my days with this crew, I've gotten comments from some of the less cocky members about how I've surprised them (in the good way).

So where the hell does this guy get off by telling me, "Hey! You're not a total fucktard afterall!" and expecting me to be grateful for it?

As our break ends and we head back to work, I could tell he was insulted that I wouldn't take his "compliment." Whatever. He's not the Best Boy on this crew. He's not the Gaffer. And those two are the ones who keep bringing me back.

So I must be doing something right...

What Defines Me?

2011-01-03T22:34:00.000-08:00

After having just gotten back into town with a few days to settle in before I go back to work, I take my friend up on his offer to visit him on his set. When I get to the location, he and his crew are pre-rigging a house while first unit's out shooting some driving stuff, which made it the perfect opportunity for him to show me around and introduce me to the rest of the crew.

The introductions, however, go something like this:

My Friend: "And this is Juicer #1 and Juicer #2. Guys, this is A.J. She's a friend of mine who worked with me on [previous show]."
Juicer #2: "Cool. Nice to meet you. Wasn't there a chick in the grip department on that show too?"
Me: "Yeah... So?"
Juicer #2: [looking kind of embarrassed] "Nothing..."

Although I'm sure Juicer#2 had good intentions when he brought up the subject of another female who works g/e, the fact that it was the first thing he brought up bothered me. Yes, I am a girl in a male dominated field. And no, I normally don't mind when people mention it during a conversation (usually it's because they wonder what it's like for female in my department). But sometimes, it sucks when that's all anyone notices about you, because then, you're not being defined as a bad ass grip or electric who just happens to also be a chick. Instead, you're first and foremost being seen as a girl... who just happens to have a day job being a juicer. Which means that it doesn't really matter how hard you work at your career, or how well you do your job. No matter what you do, you'll always be noticed for being the chick in a group of electrics.

Am I being a tad touchy on the subject? Maybe. But at the same time, if I ever get the privilege to meet Morgan Freeman, the first words out of my mouth isn't going to be, "Nice to meet you. One of my best friends is black!"

What's New?

2010-12-29T16:31:00.000-08:00

Between all the work I started getting a few months back, my vacation and traveling for the holidays, I haven't read a newspaper or watched the news for a looooong time now. And more surprisingly, I just realized that I don't miss it. I have no idea what's going on in the rest of the world, and I'm pleased to say that I'm doing just fine.

I'll probably revert back to being in touch with the rest of society once things return to "normal," but until then, did I miss out on anything good?

The Brightest Star In The Sky...

2010-12-23T17:06:00.000-08:00

It's the holidays, and that means spending a lot of time with family, including relatives you haven't seen since around this time last year. And with all the cheek pinching from your Aunt Margaret and high fives from Uncle Ricky, comes updates of every one of your extended family members of whom you don't regularly keep in touch with.

I don't know about your family, but in mine, every year, there's usually one or two family members who's news takes the cake. "Cousin Ashley got married and had a kid this year! Her life's really coming together." "Elizabeth just got accepted to Yale! She's so smart..." "Robert's spending the year in a foreign country! We really miss him, but we're proud of how brave he is!"

And while all those accomplishments do deserve to be noted and praised, there's always the feeling that you're being judged and compared to them. As if by saying how smart and brave your cousins are, it somehow implies that you're not. To them, you're the niece or nephew who, although graduated from college a few years ago, still doesn't have a steady job and is barely making minimum wage.

But despite how insulting such comments may be, there's not a whole lot I can do other than smile and nod. Because here's the thing: They'll never fully realize how extraordinary I am.

What I do for a living is hard enough for people in the business to understand (if you want to stump a Producer, ask them what the difference between a grip and a juicer is), let alone a civilian. So to fully understand what we go through is nearly impossible for someone on the outside to really comprehend.

They'll never know how mentally and physically strong you have to be to do my job. How demanding it can be as you deal with rushed schedules and last minute changes. How exhausting the hours are or how every day can be a test of endurance. How so many people have come and gone because they just couldn't hack it. Or how hard it is to just get a chance to work in this Industry, let alone make a career out of it.

And if you're a female in my line of work, they'll never know how much bullshit you have to put up with or how much better you have to be than your colleagues just to get noticed. They'll never know how much courage you have inside you as you force your way into a male dominated field.

They've never considered the fact that I moved to this town by myself, alone and knowing no one. And how somehow, in a town of 4 million people, I've managed to make a place for myself...

The bottom line is, they'll never know.

But we, the unsung heroes of the film industry; the grips, electrics, P.A.s, set dressers, and everyone in between, we know how remarkable we have to be to be doing what we do. We know how hard we had to work to get to where we are. We know what kind of sacrifices we've made to be here. Many of us have given up other (and often easier) career paths just for a chance to follow our dream, which is uncertain and scary and requires more chutzpah than most people have. We know what kind of crap we have to put up with every day. And despite not getting the praise we deserve, we are motherfuckin' awesome.

So as your relatives gush on and on this year about how Sophie got a promotion at the bank or how Louis bought a house, know that your accomplishments are just as good as theirs are, if not better. You're in the trenches, day after day, taking whatever Production may throw at you and sometimes getting beaten in the process, but you're still standing. You may not get the acknowledgment you crave for your efforts, but know that surviving in this industry means that you have a certain something that most people don't.

To quote a comment left here on this blog a while back, "You're stronger than most for what you do as a job. Never forget that."

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year.

Money, Money, Money...

2010-12-20T15:31:00.000-08:00

It's no secret that I've spent the past couple of years kind of broke and desperate for work. And even when I did find a paying gig, more often than not, the money sucked. But I'd take the job anyway because hey, some cash is better than none.

During those lean times, I managed to squeak by but not without some sacrifices. I'd often opt to spend the evening staying in instead of going out with friends. I'd eat the same thing for a week rather eat out. I'd keep a pair of running shoes well past its prime rather than buy on a new pair.

But this year, despite getting off to a slow start, has been a pretty bitchin' year for me. I've been working steadily, as things go, and for the first time in a while, my bank account has been pretty well fed.

However, now the challenge is, how do I keep it from sliding back into its previous anemic state?

I've noticed that the more money I make, the more I tend to spend. Sure, I know that this newfound cash should be put in the bank and left there, untouched and saved for the rainiest of days. But as with many things in this business (and life in general), it's easier said than done... Especially after a rough couple of years.

I suddenly find myself indulging in all the stuff I had to previously miss out on. I'll splurge on a night out with friends or treat myself to a nice meal and a movie. I'll get my car washed and waxed. And more importantly, I'll splurge on a new wardrobe. After all, I haven't done any serious shopping for myself in a while and vintage Ts are so 2009.

You'd think that the logical thing for me to do once I got that all out of my system would be to get back on a reasonable budget, but that doesn't seem to be the case. Apparently, the next logical thing for me to do is indulge myself even more.

All this work I've been doing lately, while it fills my pockets with cash, has been leaving me tired and fried. I feel like I work hard for my money, so it's all too easy to justify treating myself to a massage or a nice dinner. I've had a really rough week at work, so why not indulge in a little shopping spree? Not to mention taking some real time off and skipping town for a while.

And then there's my friends... Some of them are still down on their luck, so when we hang out, I'll offer to pay for their movie ticket or buy them lunch. After all, I've been lucky enough to be working virtually non-stop while they're still on their ass and unemployed, so it seems like the right thing to do. Especially when you consider how they've always stood by me when I needed them.

While this spending may (or may not) be justified, it's also imperative to point out that my career is that of a freelancer. Sure, I may be doing well now, but how long will this good fortune last? If I go through another period of lean times, will my bank account still be fat enough for me to make it through?

My balance sheet is still in the black, but it's pretty obvious that my recent spending habits need to change (like, set up a savings account that's as good as forgotten) but change is hard. Even more so around Christmas when you're excited about the fact that the first time in a while, you're able to afford presents that you know your loved ones will really enjoy, rather than ones off the clearance rack.

Sigh... Maybe I'll start saving again after the Holidays....? :)

Previously.*

*Before I get called a hypocrite in the comments, I'd like to point out that the difference between my friend and I is that he's to the point where his phone was shut off. Despite me spending a bit more than usual lately, I'm still a ways off from anything like that.

2010-12-17T15:12:00.000-08:00

Sorry guys... I've been basically busy non-stop since I got back. Between getting stuff done for the holidays, unpacking, work, and life in general, I've barely had time to realize that there's less than two weeks of this year left, let alone sit down and get a decent blog post done.

I'm hoping to finally get some time to write something this weekend, but I make no promises. Making any sort of plan is somewhat of a curse in this business.

Either way, thanks for continuing to check in until I finally get my shit together.

It Sucks When...

2010-12-13T23:44:00.000-08:00

... you get back from vacationing in a different time zone and you get offered a job with a 6am call time for the next day. Where are those overnight jobs when you need them??

Vacation.

2010-12-06T17:49:00.000-08:00

Over the past couple of years, I was terrified to leave L.A. Due to strikes, threat of strikes and an economic downturn (among other things), work around here was scarce and hard to come by, making it difficult for me to justify skipping town for a few days. Not only was I too broke to travel, I was in constant fear of missing out on a call for work because I was visiting friends. (It was a known rain dance for me: once I plan a trip, the calls will come.) It sucked. Although I wasn't working, I felt like I couldn't visit people that lived more than a few miles away. I was unemployed and had all this time on my hands, yet I was nervous about leaving town for more than a day.

Eventually, work started flowing in again and I secured a spot on a crew that shoots pretty frequently. Things were getting good. Only, I felt like I couldn't leave town for a few days then either. Though work with those guys was pretty steady, the schedule was not. There was no telling when the next job was; you only knew that there was one coming up. That made planning a little vacation hard. I had finally found a tribe that likes me and I felt like if I missed the next job, they'd find a replacement and I'd never get back in. And it's not like there's such thing as a paid vacation in my line of work. Unlike most other industries, when you plan a getaway, you not only have to factor in the actual cost of the trip, but the money you'd be missing out on from work as well. Suddenly, that weekend in Vegas you were thinking of will cost you a lot more than just a room and a few drinks.

Then, things started getting really good. Hollywood got busy again and it seemed like everyone and their mother was shooting something. I was suddenly landing bigger and better gigs left and right. I got so many calls that I couldn't take them all and it seemed like each job I took offered a better rate than the last. For the first time in a while, I felt like I was finally making some progress in my career again. But alas, I couldn't leave town then either. How could I when the biz is so hot? It seemed stupid to leave during a time when it was practically raining money into my bank account.

Then Summer turned to Fall and Fall is now slowly creeping into Winter. The calls aren't still pouring in like they were a few months ago, but I'm working steadily enough. More so than I was this time last year, that's for sure. And as I was packing up the truck after a long night of shooting not too long ago, I thought to myself, "Damn... I need a vacation." And that's when I realized how long it's been since I've left L.A. for a little "me" time.

I also realized that there's never a good time to take a break if you're a freelancer in this business like I am. You're scared of missing work when things are slow. You're scared you won't get your groove back when things are steady. And you're scared that you'll be missing out if you leave when times are good. There's just no winning.

So I decided that since there's never a good time to leave, now is as good of a time as any. I booked a flight to somewhere fun and made plans with people who don't live within a hundred mile radius from here. Will I miss out on work while I'm gone? You can count on it. Will I be able to get my spot back on the crews I leave behind after I return? I have no idea. Will the money still flow like profanities from a trucker? It depends on what calls I get when I stroll back into town. Will I answer my phone when I'm gone? Hell no.

But despite all these uncertainties, I think it's time for me to stop worrying about work and start worrying about myself for a little while. I've been working really hard this past year, and I think I deserve some time off. Sure, Hollywood is unforgiving and often changing, and things may be drastically different by the time I get back. I may find myself searching for another crew to work with and I may find myself unemployed for a while again. But I have to believe that I'm good enough and strong enough to bounce back from whatever changes I may find.

Work will always be here. But life only happens to me once. I think it's time for me to enjoy it a little.

A Note On Directors.

2010-12-02T12:24:00.000-08:00

I woke up this morning excited about this gig and the awesome crew that comes with it. I've known these guys for a while and they're great people, but I've never worked with them until now. And to top it off, the job came with a more than decent rate, so I was looking forward to both a fun day and good paycheck.

But now, it's almost fourteen hours into the day with a whole scene still to shoot, and I'm doing everything I can to refrain from repeatedly banging my head into the set wall.

The reason behind this extra long day? This director sucks.

A good director will know exactly what he (or she) wants and knows how to get it. He knows what shots will edit well together, and which ones are a waste of time. A bad director will shoot everything they can think of, whether it'll work or not. They'll cover a scene from a dozen different angles and plan to figure it all out in editing.* Meanwhile, the crew suffers as what could've been a twelve hour day is now turned into an endless one. I realized which kind of director this guy was early on when the first shot up was two seconds of a guy walking through a doorway... and we did eleven takes of it.

Around hour thirteen of this dragged on day, I started thinking about a low budget shoot I was on not too long ago. The pay sucked and the conditions were crappy, but the Director was fantastic. He knew exactly which shots he wanted and how to get them. He'd often combine multiple shots into one and rarely did he ever do more than three takes. And better yet, we'd move through the day so quickly that it wasn't uncommon for us to have already wrapped up the truck and be on the freeway by the time the twelfth hour hits. It seemed like nothing pleased him more than sending us home early.

What sold me on this guy as one of my favorite Directors to work with is that one day, on a rare occasion where we were actually inching towards that twelve hour mark, I witnessed this conversation he had with his A.D.:
Director: "What do we have left to shoot?"
A.D.: "We still have to shoot the coverage of five more people at the table."
Director: [Thinks for a bit.] "Fuck it. We'll just shoot Grandma saying her lines. I have enough footage of everyone else from the other shots we did to make it work. The next shot will be the martini."

Ten minutes later, we were wrapped.

If you were to compare the finished product between these two directors, the average person would probably say that they both did a good job. But the difference between them comes down to what the viewer doesn't see: how the directors work on set. They both achieved the product they wanted in the end, but one got it by knowing what he needed from the get-go and the other got it at the expense of their crew (and in turn, the Producer's money).

It was almost astonishing to see how differently these two directors worked, and what was even more surprising was the overall scale of the two productions. Judging by the production values, the director that's dragging on the day probably made more on this shoot than the other guy does all year.

Which goes to show that, once again, landing a job on a bigger show or getting a bigger job title doesn't necessarily mean that you know shit.

*A bad director is often saved in editing as a good editor is able to take footage, no matter how crappy, and turn it into something usable.

You Just Can't Win...

2010-11-28T21:57:00.000-08:00

We're shooting night exteriors when this conversation takes place...

Best Boy: Hey AJ. Can you set up a work light?
Me: Sure. Where at?
Best Boy: For our staging.
Me: [Looking around.] Uh... Are you sure we need one? We're right under a street light, plus there's all that ambient light coming from the surrounding stores.
Best Boy: Yes. I'd like our staging to be a little bit brighter please.
Me: Okay. Sure. What do you want me to use? Like a 1k? [A 650 would've been more than enough, but a 1K work light has been pretty standard on this crew.]
Best Boy: I was thinking more like a 2k*.
Me: ... Really?
Best Boy: Yeah. Give me a 2k please. Just bounce it off the wall.
Me: [I look at the Best Boy and he's being totally serious] Okay...

I set up the light and the Best Boy gives me a nod of approval. Then, moments later...

Director: [Sitting at video village which is somewhat close to our brightly lit staging area] God damn! I can't see anything on this monitor with everything else being so bright. Can we get a tent or something put up so I can see the screen?

In fly the Grips with floppys and c-stands, and in a matter of minutes, they build a makeshift tent to block out the ambient light coming from our bright ass staging area. In doing so, they also block out everything else, including the street lamp that was previously serving as a work light for video village.

A few minutes later .....

Director: Fuck! It's so dark in this tent! Can we get a work light in here, please?
Best Boy: [Over the walkie] Hey A.J.... Can you set up another work light?
Me: [Sigh.] ...Yeah.

*A 650 = 650 watts. 1k = 1000 watts. 2k = 2000 watts. The bigger the wattage, the brighter the light.

Family, Redux.

2010-11-24T17:38:00.000-08:00

For some reason, this is what I imagine
a crew Thanksgiving would be like...

A little less than a year ago, I wrote a holiday post about family. It wasn't about the Aunts, Uncles and cousins I see once or twice a year around this time, but it was about the make-shift families we find on set. We spend more time at work than we do in our own homes, so it's only natural that we'd form tight bonds with those in the trenches with us. The result is, of course, a sense a family.

And a family is what I found on that shoot a year ago. While my own family was miles and miles away, scattered in every direction the wind may blow, I found substitutes at work. Uncles, aunts, cousins, brothers and sisters... I felt like I had a complete set. And though they definitely don't take the place of the family I grew up with, they were just as good, if not better in some ways.

But where are they now? Like my real, flesh and blood related family, as time passes, they too have scattered in every direction the wind may blow. A few still linger around in the same pools of crew I'll sometimes hop in, and every once in a while, I'll run into one of them randomly on a shoot. And while we and tell each other about our lives since we wrapped all those months ago, I'll catch tid bits of the others in our familial group. "I heard Billy's working on something out in Michigan...." or "Andrea was working on some web stuff..." But for the most part, I have no idea where these people are now.

That doesn't mean I didn't consider them anything less than family when we were shooting. It just means that the show inevitably ended, and with that, we all had to find other shoots to work on. And, just like all the others before it, we will spend more time on those shoots than we do in our own homes, and keeping in touch with our previous "family" will fall to the wayside as we build new bonds on the current show.*

So is, the nature of the beast.

Related reading.

Ps. Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

*And sometimes, you find yourself in a transitional phase where you've lost the bonds with the previous crew, but haven't formed new connections yet either...

The Difference Between A Big Show And A Low Budget One...

2010-11-21T17:00:00.000-08:00

... The set designers on a bigger show are smart and courteous enough to put outlets in a wall, resulting in extremely convenient places to plug in lights and practicals.

On low budget shows, they do no such thing, resulting in the juicers having to run stingers everywhere and/or worry about how they're going to hide the cables. More often than not, the job requires the extensive use of zip cord* which, on a low budget job, there probably isn't much of anyway.

*Zip cord is also commonly known as "lamp cord." It's also, for whatever reason, "illegal" to use if you're on a Union show.

Any Relation?

2010-11-18T00:05:00.000-08:00

First there was this...

And now there's this...

Does anyone else feel like the ad world is responding to the first video with a "fuck you"?

"We're Alot Alike..."

2010-11-14T10:09:00.000-08:00

It's kind of a sucky day. Production added some shots we weren't prepared for, the Gaffer kept calling for lights that nobody would bring, and distro was set in all the wrong places, meaning that getting power to where we neeeded it had turned into a logistical nightmare. In short, things were getting pretty bad.

I was the one assigned to stay on set with the Gaffer, who was so frustrated and stressed about everything that he couldn't sit still. So I tried my best to calm him down, but in reality, I was beginning to get as frustrated as he was.

"What the hell is wrong with the Best Boy??" he said to me during a rare moment of peace during a turnaround. "Why would he put power drops in the way of everything and not where we actually need it??" I'm a big believer that venting is good for the soul, so I let him continue on with his rant as I sat there and listened. "And why doesn't he know where anyone is? And on that note, where is everyone in this department and why aren't they paying attention? It's been taking WAY too long for shit to get done, no one's listening to my orders and the mutherfuckin Best Boy can't even account for his crew. What the fuck is going on? This kind of shit has been going on for too long. I'm tired of it."

He finally pauses and takes a deep breath. Feeling sympathetic, but not wanting take sides between him and the Best Boy, I give him a look and an innocent shrug.

Feeling a little better after getting all that off his chest, he looks at me and asks, "You know what I'm talking about, right?"

I've been on set all day with him, so I saw first hand how shit just went to pieces because no one was paying attention or using common sense. And honestly, this kind of bullshit wasn't uncommon for this particular crew either, so I nod in agreement.

He smiles at me. "See, I know you get it, A.J. You and I... We're a lot alike."

I smiled back at him, knowing what he meant and enjoying our moment. I often know what he's thinking in terms of lighting a shot, and he knows that I know. We'll often have an unspoken working relationship on set; he knows that I'll see what he sees, and with a simple nod, I'll understand what he wants me to do. We're also similar in the way we work. We try to think one step ahead and study the call sheet in the morning so we more or less know what's up for the day. And when most Gaffers have a "do whatever it takes" mentality to get what they want, this guy will settle for something else if what you have to do is incredibly stupid and dangerous. He'll also make it known to the crew that no one's supposed to lift heavy cable by themselves and makes sure there's always at least two people to move around the bigger lights. He's the first and still one of the few Gaffers I know who puts our safety first and foremost and I admire him for it, so I was pleased to hear that he thought so highly of me.

But as we got back to work, I couldn't stop thinking about what he said.

Sure, the Gaffer knew his job well and came in every day, trying to do his best both for the production and his crew. And he did things the way they were supposed to be done, insisting that every light came with a scrim bag, every cart we had was appropriately organized and stocked, and that everyone "copy" him over the walkie when they hear an order. I'm glad to be working for a guy like him.

But as I watched him work, I realized that as much as I enjoyed working with him, I didn't want to end up like him. Pushing middle age, he was still stuck in the same low-budget, go nowhere world of indies that I was. Despite working on piece-of-shit shows, he always did his work as if he was on a big shoot. I'm actually often surprised at his professionalism and work mentality if all he's ever done are shoots like this one. He deserves a spot on something, anything, better. However, when given the opportunity to work on bigger things, he won't take it; opting instead to stay in a paycheck-to-paycheck world because it's steady and less risky. Although he may not exactly love his job, he's comfortable with it and that's enough for him.

I like working with him and appreciate him for what he brings to the job and his crew, but I hope I don't end up on the same path he did. I hope I always realize which risks are worth taking. I hope I never lose sight of what I'm aiming for. I hope I will always have enough good sense to know when I've become too good, too skilled and too valuable to stay where I am now, and know when I need to move on. I hope I will remember that hard and uncertain times now will mean a big payoff later.

I snap out of my thoughtful state as the company finishes another shot and my Gaffer gives me a "here we go again" look from across the room. I smile at him. He's a great guy to work for. And one day, when I move on to bigger and better things, I'll look fondly at our time together and miss him.

But until then, I'll look at whatever part of the set he's looking at, see what he's seeing, and grab whatever light he's thinking of...

Karma's A Bitch When...

2010-11-11T10:55:00.000-08:00

... you take a piece of tape off whatever it was being used on and toss it on the ground thinking that someone else will clean it up... Only to spend the second half of the day peeling tape off the bottom of your shoe every five minutes because everyone else was thinking the same thing.

Huh? What Day Is It?

2010-11-08T14:05:00.000-08:00

What day is it? I have no idea. I haven't known for a while now. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday? Who knows?

I've been losing track of the days of the week recently. I've been working so much that I can't remember what happened last week and if you asked me about a show I was on last month, I would tell you that I could've sworn all that happened at least a few months ago.

Whatever little grasp of time I had left was lost among the show hopping, long days and irregular call times of the past few months.

All I know is that today I'm on "Show A" and call time is 6am in the Valley; tomorrow, I'm on "Show B" with a 6am call Downtown and the day after that, it's "Show C" in a location TBD, but call will probably be around 5pm... Which means I probably won't get off work until at least 5am the next morning, screwing me up for whatever show I'm on next.

And Saturday? Sunday? Weekends? They have no meaning to me anymore. I work on those days too.

If you were to ask me what day of the week it is, you might as well have asked me to solve for X if Train A was leaving the station going 60 miles an hour while Train B was headed for Chicago: you'll get a confused and frustrated look.

The good thing is that I have at least been pretty good at keeping track of what day of the month it is. That, I need to know every time I fill out a new deal memo/W-4/I-9/time card/invoice. But even that sometimes will catch me off guard, because holy shit, it's November already??

The Difference Between A Big Show And A Low Budget One...

2010-11-04T21:26:00.000-07:00

If you're working on a big show and they don't need you to come in the next day, they'll say "you're laid off tomorrow," and they'll do so as soon as they know so you can maybe still make some calls and find work.

If you're working on a low budget show and they don't need you to come in the next day, they'll tell you (after they've handed out the callsheets at the end of the night), "Oh yeah... You're not coming in tomorrow."

By then, you're usually cursing at them under your breath because you turned down another call earlier in the day, thinking they're keeping you on for the week.

You Know You've Been Working Too Hard When...

2010-11-01T13:04:00.000-07:00

... a thing of yogurt you had in your fridge expired because you didn't have time to eat it. In fact, it expired so long ago that it exploded and covered a significant part of your fridge with blueberry flavored goo in the process. And this happened long enough ago that the goo dried into gunk that can only be removed if you scrape it off but you didn't notice any of this until this morning... And you don't have the time and/or energy to clean it up right now.

Sigh...

No One Wants To Play With Me.

2010-10-28T23:21:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I feel like I don't belong anywhere.

These days, I've been lucky enough to land all these awesome gigs that are bigger in every way than the shows I've been used to. But being the "new kid" and all, I haven't exactly been accepted by all the guys I've been working with. I'm a stranger to them. They don't know my very well yet, and I get the feeling that many of them would like to keep it that way.

But since I've been primarily ditching my low budget peeps in favor of those "better" gigs, when I do return to the more familiar territory of shows that offer long hours for little pay, I sometimes get the feeling that I don't quite belong here either. The vibe is somewhat... different. They've found a way to make things work without me, and in a way, I feel like my return might be throwing a wrench in their system.

I feel like I was finally "in" a crew tribe or two, which was something I worked so hard for over the years. And at a time where I feel like I should be advancing, I get kind of pushed out into the cold.

I don't quite belong here and I don't quite belong there either.

I'm a woman without a crew.