Warning! The Lights Get Hot!

I'm on a stage for a fairly simple shoot, surrounded by "old timers" in every department. Guys who have been around for ages and have the balding heads and beer guts to prove it. Most of them give me curious looks throughout the morning, but for the most part, leave me alone. But I could tell that a few of them think of me as nothing more than a newbie; someone they'll have to annoyingly keep an eye on. Granted, I'll be the first to admit that I have a lot to learn still about this business, but I can tell my ass apart from a Tweenie... Despite these guys assuming otherwise.

Whatever. I was there as a favor to a friend more than anything and didn't give a rats ass to what these grumpy guys thought of me. I just wanted to do my job and get the hell out of there when the day was done.

Since this was such a simple set up and most of the lighting was left up from the day before, I spent most of my time sitting by the dimmer board, keeping my distance from the herd. I got the distinct feeling that these guys didn't think much of me, so I returned the favor and left them alone.

I still did my job, though. I am a professional, after all. I panned the occasional light and flipped switches off and on when requested. And since I was the only one there who knew how to use a lighting console, most of my tasks included pushing buttons and bringing up channels. Yeah, it was just that easy of a day.

Then the Gaffer asks for a double to be taken out of one of the lights. I glance around and realize that I'm the only one on this side of the stage, so I "copy" the Gaffer and head towards it.

I'm only a few feet from the light when I hear rapid footsteps behind me. But I think nothing of it and continue on with my task.

As my hand reached the top of the light, however, I hear a voice screaming, "Wait! Wait! Wait!" But it was too late. In one swift motion, I had already taken out the double scrim from the light as requested.

I turned around, with the offending scrim still in the jaws of the needle nose pliers I had used to pull it out, and faced my colleague who had beads of sweat forming on his face from chasing me halfway down the set.

"What?" I was starting to worry I had done something horribly wrong since he had so urgently tried to stop me.

"Oh..." He now paused, catching his breath and looking at the scrim dangling from my pliers. "I was going to stop you from pulling the scrim out with your bare hands."

"Um... What?"

"Yeah. I saw that you weren't wearing gloves and was going to stop you because the scrims get hot."

" ' The scrims... get hot...?' " I was desperately trying to understand where he was going with this.

"Yes. The scrims get hot from being in the lights. I didn't want you to burn yourself. But I see you used pliers. Good." And with that, he retreated back to whatever corner of the stage he was at before.

All I could do was just stand there, scrim still in hand, watching him walk away in disbelief...

Did he really think I didn't know the lights get hot??

The Difference Between Old School Juicers And The New Kids (And Why I'm Often Confused On Set)...

My, how the times have changed...

Diffusion Bags / Scrim Bags : A lot of the Old School guys refer to these things as "diffusion bags." I'm not quite sure why,  but I've always been taught to call them "scrim bags" (because, you know, there's scrims in them). It can get fun and confusing when you hear the veteran Gaffer say, "Drop some diffusion in that light" and for a brief second, you're stuck wondering how the hell does one "drop" Opal or 216* into a light. 

4/0 : Most of the newer guys don't roll their eyes when you ask to double team the cable. Most of the older guys will and then mumble something about doing it themselves.

Gloves: Many of the older guys don't use them. All of the younger ones do.

The Cameraman / The DP : When I first started working, my peers and I would often refer to our boss' boss as "The Cinematographer" or the "The DP." As I gained more experienced and gained footing on slightly bigger shows, the "Cinematographer" was now solely referred to as the "DP." But as I started working with more and more Old School kinda guys, they almost always referred to the big boss as "The Cameraman." This also would throw me for a loop the first few times I heard it because my immediate thought always was that they're talking about the Camera Operator or even the 1st AC.

Equipment: The older guys are more likely to put shit away when they're done using it. Many of the juicers of my generation simply don't. It drives me nuts.

Future: The Old School juicers look for their next job. The New Kids look for their next opportunity to move up. The Old School juicers  just want to reach retirement. The New Kids still hope they'll become a DP/Producer/Writer/Director...





*I actually do wonder whether or not those links really have a picture of the product.  :)

It's A Numbers Game.

6 is the number of days a week I've been working recently.
17 is the number of hours I'm gone each day.
15 hours is the longest turnaround I've had (the day off excluded).
6 hours is the shortest.
3 different shows a week is the average I've been day-playing on.
12 is the number of callsheets I've found floating around in my car.
3 visitors are staying with me next weekend.
1 entire apartment needs to be cleaned before then.

That all adds up to...

1 blogger that needs a break.

Isn't It Supposed To Be The Other Way Around?

I'm sitting on an apple box at staging, chit-chatting with one of the regular juicers from my department while we wait for instructions from the Gaffer.

"I wonder how long we'll be at this set for," he wonders out loud.

"This scene is about a page long, and then we move into the bedroom set for a couple of scenes. They're long ones though, so we'll be here for a while," I rattle off, somewhat matter-of-factly.

"Oh... Do you think we'll go late?"

"Maybe. You're on location tomorrow doing a bunch of night scenes, so they can go pretty late if they wanted to right now without worrying about a short turn-around time."*

"Hm... Good to know." He sits there, thinking for a moment, then asks, "What location are we at tomorrow?"

"At some house in Monrovia."

"Ah. Okay, thanks."

"No problem... But wait a second. How do I know this stuff and you don't? You're here everyday and I'm only here once a week, if that!"

The guy just sits there and gives me a shrug before going back to Facebooking on his phone.

Ah... The life of a day-player... Where you give a shit more than your co-workers, and yet they still get hired over you.





* Despite what Producers may think, crew members need sleep to function properly and need a minimum number of hours between the time we wrap and our call time for the next day. If tomorrow's call time isn't until late in the day, we can techincally keep shooting late into the night and still have our minimum turn around.

Yes, This Really Happened.

Courtesy Is...

...not blinding the stand-ins every time you turn on a light.

...moving out of the way when someone is carrying something heavy and trying to get by you.

...opening and/or holding the door for someone who has their hands full.

...spreading the word to your fellow colleagues when something good is put out at crafty.

...not taking half the chicken wings in the serving pan before anyone else gets there.

...not using a chair as your own personal bag holder when there's no where else to sit.

...not asking the caterer a million questions when there's a long line of hungry people waiting behind you.

...not yelling into the radios. And while we're at it, it's also not hitting the "talk" button when someone else is clearly talking.

...telling someone they're laid off as soon as possible to they can start looking for work.

...calling out "flashing" when you take a picture using a flash.

...returning stingers you've borrowed instead of leaving them in a pile who-knows-where.

...not wrapping said stingers if you don't know how. Really, it's okay. It's easier for us to do it ourselves the first time than to re-do your attempts.

...helping someone push along a cart; especially if it looks like they're struggling.

...returning pens you've borrowed when you don't have the good sense to carry one of your own.

...throwing your trash away and not leaving it on the truck/carts/shelves/etc.

...checking in on the person up in the condor every once in a while to see if they need anything.

...not disappearing when a major set up is about to happen.


It's amazing how rare common courtesy is these days.

And Then There Was None...

For a brief moment, I had it...

Thursday: I get a call checking my availability for next week. Three days of work for a pretty decent rate. Sweet!

Friday: I get a call from a different show, asking if I'm free next week. Five days of work. The rate isn't that great, but I'd have a little extra spending money in my pocket after five days with them than the previous offer, plus the bonus of solidifying myself with a semi-new contact. I tell them I'll take it if it's five days for sure. Best Boy says he'll double check and call me back.

I hang up, a little proud of myself for being such an in-demand juicer. 

Saturday: I finally hear back from the Best Boy about the schedule. It is for five days, but apparently the Gaffer wants to bring in his buddy instead. You know, the one who's been out of work for a while and can't find a job on his own, blah blah blah. Great.

I'm a little disappointed, but not too much. Being the smart cookie that I am, I never told the first job I was planning on bailing, juuust in case things changed. Which means that despite getting dumped, I still had three days of work at a good rate to look forward to.

I love it when things work out that way.

Until...

Sunday: I step out of the shower to find a message on my phone from Job #1. "Sorry kiddo, but the schedule changed..."

And that was how I went from being an in-demand lighting tech being sought after by multiple shows to being unemployed this week.

Gotta love this industry...