Thursday, July 23, 2009
You Know You've Been Working Too Hard When...
... your friend wants to watch a certain movie in total darkness and your first thought is to black out the windows with duvetyn. The idea of waiting until night didn't even cross your mind.
Saturday, July 11, 2009
The Importance of Caffeine.
Anyone who's ever had a job in an office, restaurant, or on set (or anyone who's read a previous post of mine) knows the importance of having plenty of coffee on hand in the work place.
So can someone explain to me why, on a shoot with an ungodly call time of 5am, there was no coffee available until three hours in?
And why (on a different job) there was not one drop of coffee on set during an overnight shoot??
Most shows I work on do a pretty good job of keeping a steady supply of the stuff, but this lack of foresight happens more often to me than it should. And for those of you out there who think I'm just being whiny, I'm not the only one who feels this way.
One time when I was on a caffeine deprived set, I watched as a grip heard the news, stopped what he was doing and walked out of the studio. He didn't return until half an hour later with a bag of energy drinks and bottled coffee from a store down the street. Another time while on location, the gaffer sent out an electric to make a run down to Starbucks and just last month, a grip showed up almost an hour late. The reason: the Key Grip called him right before he pulled into crew parking and asked him to buy a few cups of coffee since it was obvious that there wasn't going to be any on set anytime soon. And the night shoot that had no coffee (not even a Coke to tide us over)? By 3am, everyone was either sleeping in the back of the grip truck, in the cab, or on a lawn chair in the yard of the house we were shooting at. And that's including the Key and Gaffer.
Oddly enough, it's the ultra low budget shows that seem to be the ones caught without a drop coffee in sight. I don't know if it's because they cut costs by handling crafty themselves or what, but if I was paying my crew with money that was barely in the budget as it is, I'd rather pay a few more bucks to make sure there's at least a Mr. Coffee on set than to have my crew sleeping or going on a coffee run in the middle of the shoot.
...Or at least have the decency to send out a PA.
So can someone explain to me why, on a shoot with an ungodly call time of 5am, there was no coffee available until three hours in?
And why (on a different job) there was not one drop of coffee on set during an overnight shoot??
Most shows I work on do a pretty good job of keeping a steady supply of the stuff, but this lack of foresight happens more often to me than it should. And for those of you out there who think I'm just being whiny, I'm not the only one who feels this way.
One time when I was on a caffeine deprived set, I watched as a grip heard the news, stopped what he was doing and walked out of the studio. He didn't return until half an hour later with a bag of energy drinks and bottled coffee from a store down the street. Another time while on location, the gaffer sent out an electric to make a run down to Starbucks and just last month, a grip showed up almost an hour late. The reason: the Key Grip called him right before he pulled into crew parking and asked him to buy a few cups of coffee since it was obvious that there wasn't going to be any on set anytime soon. And the night shoot that had no coffee (not even a Coke to tide us over)? By 3am, everyone was either sleeping in the back of the grip truck, in the cab, or on a lawn chair in the yard of the house we were shooting at. And that's including the Key and Gaffer.
Oddly enough, it's the ultra low budget shows that seem to be the ones caught without a drop coffee in sight. I don't know if it's because they cut costs by handling crafty themselves or what, but if I was paying my crew with money that was barely in the budget as it is, I'd rather pay a few more bucks to make sure there's at least a Mr. Coffee on set than to have my crew sleeping or going on a coffee run in the middle of the shoot.
...Or at least have the decency to send out a PA.
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
People Should Learn The Basic Terminology Of Their Craft.
I just worked on a shoot where one of the grips has some big name shows on his list of credits. After setting up a light, the best boy asked him to throw some "beach" on a stand. He had no idea what that was. *sigh*
I was talking to one of the electrics and he asked me how long I've been a grip for. I answered, but I also told him that I often work as a juicer as well. The rest of the conversation went something like this:
Him: "Wait, you can work grip and do what?"
Me: "Juice."
Him: "What?"
Me: "I'm also a juicer."
Him: "What's a 'juicer'?"
Me (confused): "Wait... What's your job on this shoot?"
Him: "I'm one of the electrics."
Me (even more confused): "...."
Him: "So are you gonna tell me what a 'juicer' is?"
Me: ".... uh.... I think you should go ask your best boy what that is."
*Double sigh.*
I was talking to one of the electrics and he asked me how long I've been a grip for. I answered, but I also told him that I often work as a juicer as well. The rest of the conversation went something like this:
Him: "Wait, you can work grip and do what?"
Me: "Juice."
Him: "What?"
Me: "I'm also a juicer."
Him: "What's a 'juicer'?"
Me (confused): "Wait... What's your job on this shoot?"
Him: "I'm one of the electrics."
Me (even more confused): "...."
Him: "So are you gonna tell me what a 'juicer' is?"
Me: ".... uh.... I think you should go ask your best boy what that is."
*Double sigh.*
Friday, June 12, 2009
It's A Numbers Game.
4 days, 5 locations, 3 rental houses, and I walked away with no less than 55 bruises.
Monday, June 8, 2009
The Gaffer Can Shove The C-Stand Up His Ass For All I Care.
Let's face it, when you're the only chick on a set full of guys for a few days and you're single, you'll probably get asked out. I don't mean to brag or anything, but this happens to me a lot. I rarely ever say yes though. The guys that show interest are usually too young, too old, too smooth for their own good or just plain not my type. If you ask me out, I can guarantee you that I'm looking for a reason to say no. I guess I'm just picky.
But a couple weeks ago, I almost said yes to a guy. He was nice, kind of charming, and was the younger half of a father and son gaffer/electrician team, though his father's been in the biz a hell of a lot longer than he has. Plus, he was pretty hot. But when he asked me for my number at the end of the night, I said no anyway. Why? Because I can't stand being in the same room as his dad and that's never a good sign.
His dad's an arrogant sexist son-of-a-bitch. The first words out of his mouth to me was a mini quiz on the grip gear. Him, a juicer, quizzing me, a grip, on my own gear. That's one of my biggest pet peeves. I have no problems with questions about equipment you don't know. In fact, I welcome them. But if you're asking me these questions because you don't think I know the answer and want to make yourself feel important, then you're an ass. This man, was an ass.
The final straw was when he asked me "Do you know why they call it a 'C-Stand'"?
*Sigh*
I've heard no less than four totally different stories about why it's called a C-stand. Each one told by top industry people who are considered pioneers in their respective fields. And each one is more or less adamant that their version is the one true story. The same goes for the stories of why clothespins are "C-47s". The bottom line is answering this question is like picking sides in a political debate: someone will be convinced that you're wrong.
I decided to go the safe route and rattled off a couple of the stories I've heard, not picking sides, just relaying info. To be honest, I knew what this asshole was trying to do and I just wanted to be done with this conversation. And just like I suspected, he wasn't satisfied with my multiple choice answer.
"No no no...." he says. "Let me tell you the real reason why it's called a C-stand and that way you'll be initiated as a real gripette."
I kid you not. He called me a "gripette".
Let's get one thing straight... The fastest way to piss off a female in g/e is to give her a "cutesy" name. Being called "Sparky" (though it's rare), I can deal with because it's a slang term for electricity. But "Gripette"? It's demeaning. I don't call you a "guy-lectric" so please don't call me a "chick-lectric".
Anyway, let's ignore that annoying name calling for a second and go back to the "initiation" part of that sentence. Because, you know, I'm not really a grip until I sit through his dribble. Forget that unlike his kid, I got into this business based on my own two feet. That I knew no one in this town when I first came here, and now people recognize my name before I even walk onto set. Forget that the other guys in the grip team are working off of my orders. And please, just go ahead and ignore the label on my walkie that says "BEST BOY GRIP" because clearly, I'm not a grip until I've heard his story of how a C-stand came to be. (And to all you out there who think I'm overreacting, keep in mind that he singled me out out of the entire grip team. The only difference between me and them, other than the fact that I knew more about the job, was that I'm female.)
"The real reason why it's called a C-stand is [insert story here that I don't really care to repeat, but let's just say that it's the one story I've heard before that makes the least sense and stems from the least reputable source]," he continues. "And that's a fact."
"Well, that's another story to add to my collection I guess."
"No no no. It's not just another story. It's the truth!"
"Really? Where'd you hear that from?"
"From way back when I started in this business 35 years ago, honey."
*Sigh*
Yeah... Because I'm going to believe your story over all the others I've heard just because someone told you a random story 35 years ago. Forget that one of the other versions dates back to the early 1900s before the modern day C-stand was even invented. Like I said, each one is adamant about their origin stories and this guy's too dense to even consider the fact that his story may be a bit off.
Shortly after that, I pretended to get a call on my walkie and I walked out of the room. Life's too short and the day too long to be dealing with someone like that longer than I have to.
It's a shame though. His son was really hot.
But a couple weeks ago, I almost said yes to a guy. He was nice, kind of charming, and was the younger half of a father and son gaffer/electrician team, though his father's been in the biz a hell of a lot longer than he has. Plus, he was pretty hot. But when he asked me for my number at the end of the night, I said no anyway. Why? Because I can't stand being in the same room as his dad and that's never a good sign.
His dad's an arrogant sexist son-of-a-bitch. The first words out of his mouth to me was a mini quiz on the grip gear. Him, a juicer, quizzing me, a grip, on my own gear. That's one of my biggest pet peeves. I have no problems with questions about equipment you don't know. In fact, I welcome them. But if you're asking me these questions because you don't think I know the answer and want to make yourself feel important, then you're an ass. This man, was an ass.
The final straw was when he asked me "Do you know why they call it a 'C-Stand'"?
*Sigh*
I've heard no less than four totally different stories about why it's called a C-stand. Each one told by top industry people who are considered pioneers in their respective fields. And each one is more or less adamant that their version is the one true story. The same goes for the stories of why clothespins are "C-47s". The bottom line is answering this question is like picking sides in a political debate: someone will be convinced that you're wrong.
I decided to go the safe route and rattled off a couple of the stories I've heard, not picking sides, just relaying info. To be honest, I knew what this asshole was trying to do and I just wanted to be done with this conversation. And just like I suspected, he wasn't satisfied with my multiple choice answer.
"No no no...." he says. "Let me tell you the real reason why it's called a C-stand and that way you'll be initiated as a real gripette."
I kid you not. He called me a "gripette".
Let's get one thing straight... The fastest way to piss off a female in g/e is to give her a "cutesy" name. Being called "Sparky" (though it's rare), I can deal with because it's a slang term for electricity. But "Gripette"? It's demeaning. I don't call you a "guy-lectric" so please don't call me a "chick-lectric".
Anyway, let's ignore that annoying name calling for a second and go back to the "initiation" part of that sentence. Because, you know, I'm not really a grip until I sit through his dribble. Forget that unlike his kid, I got into this business based on my own two feet. That I knew no one in this town when I first came here, and now people recognize my name before I even walk onto set. Forget that the other guys in the grip team are working off of my orders. And please, just go ahead and ignore the label on my walkie that says "BEST BOY GRIP" because clearly, I'm not a grip until I've heard his story of how a C-stand came to be. (And to all you out there who think I'm overreacting, keep in mind that he singled me out out of the entire grip team. The only difference between me and them, other than the fact that I knew more about the job, was that I'm female.)
"The real reason why it's called a C-stand is [insert story here that I don't really care to repeat, but let's just say that it's the one story I've heard before that makes the least sense and stems from the least reputable source]," he continues. "And that's a fact."
"Well, that's another story to add to my collection I guess."
"No no no. It's not just another story. It's the truth!"
"Really? Where'd you hear that from?"
"From way back when I started in this business 35 years ago, honey."
*Sigh*
Yeah... Because I'm going to believe your story over all the others I've heard just because someone told you a random story 35 years ago. Forget that one of the other versions dates back to the early 1900s before the modern day C-stand was even invented. Like I said, each one is adamant about their origin stories and this guy's too dense to even consider the fact that his story may be a bit off.
Shortly after that, I pretended to get a call on my walkie and I walked out of the room. Life's too short and the day too long to be dealing with someone like that longer than I have to.
It's a shame though. His son was really hot.
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Cookies on a Sunny Day
I was in a pretty good mood one Thursday afternoon. The sun was shining outside, birds were singing loudly, and cookies were baking in my oven. And to make the day even better, a good friend from back up north IMed me. I haven't seen or spoken to her in a while, so playing catch-up on this already awesome day was just icing on the cake. She was still glowing from her weekend getaway with her new beau when she sent me a link to her flickr page so I could see the pictures of them lollygagging around on the beach. But there were only a few of those, and I found myself poking around the other albums she had, including ones from a recent concert and her last birthday.
As I looked through, I couldn't help but notice some familiar faces. Faces of mutual friends dotted almost every picture, and each event was like a mini high school reunion. They all looked so happy, joking around with each other, eating cake and dancing around. It was good to see everyone with a smile on their face. But as I clicked through the albums, I realized that she doesn't have any pictures of me. And not because I'm allusive around cameras and I hate being in pictures, but because I was nowhere near any of those events. While they all spent the last few years back up north, I've been down in LA.
And that's when it kind of hit me. I'm essentially alone in this town. Sure, I have caring neighbors and a number of friends to hang out with, but no one I've really connected with. No one who I'd love to spend a whole day with, just hanging out and doing nothing.
Which go me wondering, "What am I doing here?" I'm not exactly working these days, and without work, there's no income, no stars to reach for, no ladder to climb. I'm basically sitting on my ass here in LA, hoping that SAG will sign a contract soon and production will start up again. But even then, there's no guarantee that I'd find work. At this point, I've been out of the loop for a tad too long and I have no idea if any of my connections will still lead me to a paycheck. So... What am I still doing here? Why aren't I back up north, hanging out with good friends and ending up on flickr pages?
After some thinking, I couldn't come up with any answer better than "because I have to be here." I've given up alot to be where I am. And I mean where I am physically. I moved 500 miles away from a loving family, true friends, stable job offers, and anything comforting I once had, to live in a crowded, noisy city known for it's lying, cheating people and polluted air. A place where everyone's a stranger. I came to LA, despite all the negatives, because this is where you have to be if you want a career in film, whether you want to be a director, writer, producer, or just a PA. This is where it all starts, and while it may be hard, self defeating, brutally honest, abusive and kicks you in the face from time to time, this is where you have to be. The lessons will be hard, the hours will be long, and the risk is high, but simply put, this is where you have to be.
Right now, the chances seem slim that I'll be anyone with a name in this biz. But I have to try. I've come too far to turn back now, and in all honesty, I don't want to. I've given up a lot of things to get here, and at each step of the way, I knew exactly what I was giving up and at each step I took, I had no idea what I was getting into. But this is where I have to be. It's a scary road to be taking alone, and I have no idea where it's leading me, but I have to hold onto the hope that it'll lead to more cookies and sunny days.
(Previously)
As I looked through, I couldn't help but notice some familiar faces. Faces of mutual friends dotted almost every picture, and each event was like a mini high school reunion. They all looked so happy, joking around with each other, eating cake and dancing around. It was good to see everyone with a smile on their face. But as I clicked through the albums, I realized that she doesn't have any pictures of me. And not because I'm allusive around cameras and I hate being in pictures, but because I was nowhere near any of those events. While they all spent the last few years back up north, I've been down in LA.
And that's when it kind of hit me. I'm essentially alone in this town. Sure, I have caring neighbors and a number of friends to hang out with, but no one I've really connected with. No one who I'd love to spend a whole day with, just hanging out and doing nothing.
Which go me wondering, "What am I doing here?" I'm not exactly working these days, and without work, there's no income, no stars to reach for, no ladder to climb. I'm basically sitting on my ass here in LA, hoping that SAG will sign a contract soon and production will start up again. But even then, there's no guarantee that I'd find work. At this point, I've been out of the loop for a tad too long and I have no idea if any of my connections will still lead me to a paycheck. So... What am I still doing here? Why aren't I back up north, hanging out with good friends and ending up on flickr pages?
After some thinking, I couldn't come up with any answer better than "because I have to be here." I've given up alot to be where I am. And I mean where I am physically. I moved 500 miles away from a loving family, true friends, stable job offers, and anything comforting I once had, to live in a crowded, noisy city known for it's lying, cheating people and polluted air. A place where everyone's a stranger. I came to LA, despite all the negatives, because this is where you have to be if you want a career in film, whether you want to be a director, writer, producer, or just a PA. This is where it all starts, and while it may be hard, self defeating, brutally honest, abusive and kicks you in the face from time to time, this is where you have to be. The lessons will be hard, the hours will be long, and the risk is high, but simply put, this is where you have to be.
Right now, the chances seem slim that I'll be anyone with a name in this biz. But I have to try. I've come too far to turn back now, and in all honesty, I don't want to. I've given up a lot of things to get here, and at each step of the way, I knew exactly what I was giving up and at each step I took, I had no idea what I was getting into. But this is where I have to be. It's a scary road to be taking alone, and I have no idea where it's leading me, but I have to hold onto the hope that it'll lead to more cookies and sunny days.
(Previously)
Sunday, March 22, 2009
The New Kid.
It's no secret that things have been slow in Hollywood lately, which is why I got excited when I got a call for work last week. I mean, the kind where you jump around your apartment kind of excited. Not only was it a decent rate (for me anyway) but it was a commercial for a well known brand and it was a union job. Unfortunately, because of certain rules, the union can't know about me being there, so it took some creative finagling to get me on the crew and I wouldn't get any permit days out of it (I need 30 to be union eligible and I have none so far). But I didn't care. This job meant that I'd get a paycheck, a chance to hang out with some big-time union boys and hopefully a new connection or two for future jobs. Woot!
So anyway, I got all excited, counting down the days and making sure my gear was organized and accounted for. When it was time to work, however, I was surely disappointed. I don't know if it was because of the way I looked (female), or because I was simply the only non-union person therefore deemed incompetent, but most of those guys treated me like I didn't know one end of an extension cord from another. Only one guy was smart/nice enough to ask me if I've been on a shoot before, and he was the only one to actually put me to work (when there was work to be done anyway. It was a pretty easy day).
The best/worst offense was before the day even started and we were waiting for the pass van to take us to the location. I had just met the key grip and we were standing by the catering table and truck where breakfast was being served. Despite the fact that I've been there for half an hour and already ate the breakfast offered, the key goes on to actually explain the concept of breakfast to me, as well as how to get it, etc. (And for those of you who've never experienced an on-set breakfast, think a buffet style catered party. It's pretty self explanatory how you get food.) Seriously?? I genuinely think he was explaining it to be helpful and nice, but WAS HE SERIOUSLY EXPLAINING BREAKFAST??
I should've known that his comment was a prelude to the rest of my day. I didn't run any cable because they didn't think it was appropriate to "throw me into the physical part of it just yet" and someone actually came out to babysit me while I was babysitting a light. *sigh*
But I did try to be a good sport about it though. After all, I was the new girl on the block and these guys who've been working with each other for years have no idea who I am or what's on my resume. The sad thing is that no one bothered to ask me. I guess the final annoying straw came when I was being nice and returning a piece of gear to the grip department:
Me: Hi, where do you want me to put this offset for you?
Grip: huh?
Me: This offset. I'm returning it to you. Where does it go?
Grip: Well, this is called a baby offset. It goes on top of a stand and it's used to...
Me: (impatient... kinda snapping) Yeah, I know what it is. I'm just wondering where it goes back to. One of your other guys used it for the Joker, but we're taking the rig apart.
Grip: oh... Well, I don't know...
Me: (sets it on one of their carts and walks away...)
I did feel a little bad after that happened though. I mean, as annoying as this whole baby treatment was, the guy did think he was doing me a favor. But on the bright side, after that exchange he did wise up enough to ask me if I've worked on set before (though he did assume it was only once or twice before) and we had what could actually be classified as a conversation. *gasp!* Too bad it was near the end of the day when it happened. Perhaps I should've shown my bitchy side earlier.
In the end, I didn't really get anything out of the experience other than a (much needed) paycheck. I was kind of disappointed. I guess it's my fault though. Despite me usually working on small potato productions, I've had my fair share of run ins with "old timers" and union folk, and they almost always turn out the same: they take one look at me and assume I can't do the job.
Whatevs. In all honesty, I'm starting to become jaded about working with guys like that. If they want to take work away from me under the assumption that I can't handle it, so be it. Chances are, they're getting paid more than I am anyway and who am I trying to impress? No matter how good of a job I do, I know that once a guy makes a snap judgment like that, there's no way he's going to hire me in the future anyway. Fuck em.
So anyway, I got all excited, counting down the days and making sure my gear was organized and accounted for. When it was time to work, however, I was surely disappointed. I don't know if it was because of the way I looked (female), or because I was simply the only non-union person therefore deemed incompetent, but most of those guys treated me like I didn't know one end of an extension cord from another. Only one guy was smart/nice enough to ask me if I've been on a shoot before, and he was the only one to actually put me to work (when there was work to be done anyway. It was a pretty easy day).
The best/worst offense was before the day even started and we were waiting for the pass van to take us to the location. I had just met the key grip and we were standing by the catering table and truck where breakfast was being served. Despite the fact that I've been there for half an hour and already ate the breakfast offered, the key goes on to actually explain the concept of breakfast to me, as well as how to get it, etc. (And for those of you who've never experienced an on-set breakfast, think a buffet style catered party. It's pretty self explanatory how you get food.) Seriously?? I genuinely think he was explaining it to be helpful and nice, but WAS HE SERIOUSLY EXPLAINING BREAKFAST??
I should've known that his comment was a prelude to the rest of my day. I didn't run any cable because they didn't think it was appropriate to "throw me into the physical part of it just yet" and someone actually came out to babysit me while I was babysitting a light. *sigh*
But I did try to be a good sport about it though. After all, I was the new girl on the block and these guys who've been working with each other for years have no idea who I am or what's on my resume. The sad thing is that no one bothered to ask me. I guess the final annoying straw came when I was being nice and returning a piece of gear to the grip department:
Me: Hi, where do you want me to put this offset for you?
Grip: huh?
Me: This offset. I'm returning it to you. Where does it go?
Grip: Well, this is called a baby offset. It goes on top of a stand and it's used to...
Me: (impatient... kinda snapping) Yeah, I know what it is. I'm just wondering where it goes back to. One of your other guys used it for the Joker, but we're taking the rig apart.
Grip: oh... Well, I don't know...
Me: (sets it on one of their carts and walks away...)
I did feel a little bad after that happened though. I mean, as annoying as this whole baby treatment was, the guy did think he was doing me a favor. But on the bright side, after that exchange he did wise up enough to ask me if I've worked on set before (though he did assume it was only once or twice before) and we had what could actually be classified as a conversation. *gasp!* Too bad it was near the end of the day when it happened. Perhaps I should've shown my bitchy side earlier.
In the end, I didn't really get anything out of the experience other than a (much needed) paycheck. I was kind of disappointed. I guess it's my fault though. Despite me usually working on small potato productions, I've had my fair share of run ins with "old timers" and union folk, and they almost always turn out the same: they take one look at me and assume I can't do the job.
Whatevs. In all honesty, I'm starting to become jaded about working with guys like that. If they want to take work away from me under the assumption that I can't handle it, so be it. Chances are, they're getting paid more than I am anyway and who am I trying to impress? No matter how good of a job I do, I know that once a guy makes a snap judgment like that, there's no way he's going to hire me in the future anyway. Fuck em.
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