The Unexpected Hurdles of Film Production
[Above: filming in changeable weather for FIFTY/FIFTY. Official BTS photos to come soon] |
Last week, I publicly
released FIFTY/FIFTY (formerly known as Lepidopterist), my team’s entry into the Sci-Fi London 48hr Film Challenge.
To shoot and edit a film within two days is obviously no mean feat –
particularly when there’s fantastical elements in the script. Luckily my cast and crew were
at the top of their game, so the shoot went as smoothly as possible, but there
were some other challenges beyond the schedule that we had to compete with. On the day, it was the
unpredictable weather – two batches of non-forecast hail, either side of
dappled sunshine – and in pre-production, we struggled to secure the locations
we needed until very close to the shoot.
These were two small obstacles, easily overcome in the end,
but it got me thinking about the unpredictable nature of indie film
productions. When I was doing the location recce for FIFTY/FIFTY’s forest
scene, with 1st AD Liam Banks (of Superfreak Media), I asked him, “what’s the biggest, most unpredictable hurdle you’ve had to overcome when making your
films?” It turns out we both had some stories to tell!
When you commit to making a film, you essentially need to
expect the unexpected; prepare for the worst while trying to make your best
work. While some events can be planned for (e.g. having a backup location,
bringing rain covers for the cameras), there will always be the odd curveball
that no one would’ve ever dreamed of. We work in an art form: weird stuff is
part of the job!
So, going back through my previous credits, here’s the
biggest, most random hurdles I’ve encountered on film productions – and how my team and I
found solutions to the problems:
[Above: The Opening Night's opening scenes featured last-minute replacement posters] |
The Opening Night
(shot in 2010)
The challenge: Because
this film was set in a theatre, I arranged for a series of fake posters to be
made, which involved a photoshoot with the cast and the lovely Holly Booth.
The first issue was that we had a casting change, so we didn’t have our lead actor by
the time the photoshoot came around. The second issue was that, when the posters
finally did arrive... the poster tube had lost its lid in transit, meaning that
the majority of the posters had fallen out en route. They were about 90% of our
set dressing for the film’s opening scenes!
The solution: Issue
one was relatively easy to overcome. We hired a stand-in model, who wore a wig
(we knew that our chosen actor would have to be a red-head, due to some of the
film’s visual homages). We had the other cast member on hand, and since there
wasn’t going to be a close-up of the posters at any point, we knew we’d get
away with one stand-in.
The other issue was harder to fix. Because the empty poster
tube had arrived about two days before the shoot, there wasn’t time to order
any more. I also didn’t have quite the same resources that I have now, and I
didn’t know anyone specifically who could print large (A1 sized) posters for
me. I ended up going to a Boots with my USB stick; the only size they went up
to was A3, which meant we would have a lot of empty wall space! Looking back,
the opening scenes of the film do look fairly minimal as a result of this, but
because there was so much going on with the production design in the other
scenes, it’s not the end of the world: it allows the film to draw a bit of a
breath.
[Above: Shooting Ashes on a backup camera, after many false starts! Photo by Jenna Cataldo] |
Ashes (Shot in
2012)
The challenge: Where
to start with this one? Much as I love the film, it often felt like it didn’t
want to get made! It’s the only time one of my crowdfunding campaigns really
struggled (the film had a difficult subject nature with no obvious hook), and
so we were affected by budgetary concerns throughout production. We went
through three locations, one of which pulled out incredibly last minute. As a
result, Ashes was the only film I’ve directed where we had to cancel the shoot.
Four months later, through a personal loan, the film was finally re-booked. Even a severe back injury a week before the shoot didn't stop me! But
the night before the shoot, the RED Scarlet camera we’d hired (and spent a good chunk
of the budget on) suddenly stopped working...
The solution: There
wasn’t a solution as much as a compromise. As I said, this was the film that didn’t want to get
made! In spite of DOP Neil Oseman’s best efforts, he couldn’t get the darned
camera to work. Also, because he’d spent most of the night trying to fix it, this meant that poor Neil had to go into the shoot on very little sleep. I almost wish we'd given up on the camera sooner, for his sake, but you learn the importance of rest as you get older!
But
the moral of the story is that, to an extent, as long as your DOP is amazing, it
doesn’t matter what camera you use – and Neil is one of the best. He had his
DSLR on him, which we were going to use for some of the film’s latter scenes
anyway; and because we still had some beautiful Zeiss lenses to use (which we’d
hired with the RED), we were still able to shoot the film and make it look good
enough. It also helps that this film was very much driven by the actors and
their performances, slightly more than the cinematography.
[Above: Stop/Eject's weir location - before and after we decided to use it!] |
The challenge: Stop/Eject
(which I produced, with Neil directing) was another film that suffered through a couple of
false starts. But when we finally shot the film, we were faced by our first –
but definitely not last – batch of insane and unpredictable weather. You’ve
probably all the seen the YouTube video, but just to summarise: Neil had
planned a beautiful and epic proposal scene in the film, in which the two lead characters
get engaged while stood at the top of a weir (accompanied by lots metaphors
about water and time). We had jib shots planned, and although the water was
always going to be moving off the weir, there was a shallow ledge for the
actors to stand on, so the risk was minimal. But then it snowed in April (which wasn’t QUITE as common
back in 2012!) and the weir flooded. The water became rapid, and it would’ve
been treacherous to even attempt to send the actors across it.
The solution: We
did two things. First of all, we re-jigged the schedule so that the main bulk of the proposal
scene would be shot last, to give the flooded areas time to settle. Secondly,
because we still had enough time left on day one, we decided to shoot the proposal scene
in a different location; even if we just used some of the close-ups from that
block, it was a good use of the time. We were already filming in Belper River
Gardens that day, the sun was shining, and there was enough water for the metaphors
in the dialogue to still make sense. The actors did a great job, and the
footage looked beautiful.
We did go back to the original location on the final day of
filming (as a bit of an add-on to the schedule), but the river was still
overflowing, and there was no way we could’ve used it as intended. We re-shot
the scene nearby, with the gushing water behind the actors – and we were also able
to use the jib here – but the weather was very drizzly and grey. In the end,
Neil chose to just use the footage from the first day – the stuff
we had shot pretty much ‘just in case’ – and it all worked out well, because it’s a lovely
looking little scene with some great performances. It didn’t need to be epic.
(By the way, Neil has been in the industry a little longer
than me, and he has many great stories to tell about his time as a director! If
you want to hear more epic stories about the hurdles he’s faced – and how he
overcame them – I definitely recommend you check out his blog, particularly the
articles about shooting Soul Searcher!)
[Above: me on set with Night Owls' final cast, both of whom came on board within the final two weeks of pre-production] |
The challenge: As was the case with Ashes and FIFTY/FIFTY, we struggled to find the perfect location for
this film, as it was so specific in the script (partly because Night Owls was made to be a
pilot for a feature film). But the main challenge came when both of our actors
– through completely separate circumstances, neither of which could be helped –
had to leave the production. They had been involved in the film's crowdfunding
campaign, and I’d spent the rehearsal time developing the characters with them,
so it was particularly crushing news for me. But to make matters even more complicated,
we only had two weeks to go until the shoot, everything and everyone else was booked, and we couldn’t afford to postpone
it.
The solution: Although
I loved my original cast, we did end up with some brilliant actors, both of whom headed the call last minute, purely out of love for the script. Holly Rushbrooke, who
played Mari, had the biggest challenge – it was her first ever film, and we
only managed to secure her TWO DAYS before the shoot! In spite of it all, and
in spite of the actors’ lack of preparation time, everything worked out well
for the film: 8 of the film’s
17 award wins were because of the fantastic performances!
[Above: Shooting the dreaded 'scene 17' during a thunderstorm. Photo by Robert Brown] |
Songbird (shot in
2016)
The challenge: Despite
the scale of the film, pre-production on Songbird ran smoothly compared to our previous shorts. Our crowdfunding campaigns were a dream come true (in no small
part down to the involvement of the beguiling Janet Devlin), and although we did have
one last minute cast member change, due to very sad circumstances, Therese
Collins stepped in last minute and did a great job.
Songbird was a logistically
difficult film to plan, with multiple location changes across five days, but we
did the sensible thing and planned the woodland scenes for the end of the week, when the weather forecast looked best.
It was mid August, and for a time we thought that our biggest
concern would be sunburn. Then the weather forecast suddenly changed, and the crew was caught
out in the biggest thunder storm I've ever seen...
I
think the Songbird crew members are still traumatised by that day, when we
filmed Scene 17 of the script in the torrential rain. A lot of our filming
techniques had to be abandoned, partly for safety reasons, and partly because
they wouldn't show up on screen (like our smoke effects, which quickly blew
away!). As the day went on, tensions ran high.
The solution: Difficult as it was, I did take away three key learning points from that day. Firstly, have
a gazebo and a ground sheet. We bought one in advance for Songbird, in case we
needed it, and although the ground sheet kept flooding, it meant that we were
able to (mostly) cover the camera and finish the shoot. We kept the gazebo, and
luckily we had it on set for FIFTY/FIFTY when the non-forecast hail started
falling!
Secondly, my experience of shooting Scene 17 made me really
take stock of what is and isn’t important in a script. During pre-production,
when there is time for debate, you can argue amongst yourselves and say, “we
need all of this scene – we couldn't possibly cut it down". It’s a
different matter altogether when your cast and crew are soaked and tired, and
you need to wrap up the shoot ASAP!
I had to make a spur-of-the-moment decision
to cut pages-worth of script out of the scene, right there in the middle of the
shoot, and still end the scene cohesively (which is difficult, as we were
filming Songbird's climatic battle scene at the time!). When we got to the
edit, the condensed scene worked fine – it actually helped us to shorten the
film as a whole – and you can't tell that anything is missing. It taught me to
trust my ability to make snap decisions.
Finally – and this applies to all shoots, not just Songbird
– it taught me that sometimes, when things go wrong, it creates a bonding
experience for the team. None of the Songbird team will forget their
thunderstorm filming adventure, but we all still reminisce about it; we have
the collective experience of “we survived Scene 17!” – and we survived it
together.
So the lesson here is that, things go wrong on set. You can prepare
yourself as much as possible, by buying gazebos, having backup locations and
crew etc – but sometimes things happen that you just can't fix. When that happens,
you need to learn as much as you can from the issue, but more importantly, make sure you and your
crew work as a tight unit throughout the experience - and one day you will all
look back at the memories and laugh together. That's the most important thing to
take away from all of this.
Sophie
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