How To Make A Movie In 30 Days Or Less – January 19th, 2003

by Bing Futch

I had been on the road for a few days, riding shotgun in an obscenely yellow Ryder box truck. Somewhere in the middle of Wisconsin, just southeast of Devil’s Tower National Monument, I received the news that we had been entered into a contest sponsored by the Entertainment Industry Incubator, based in Miami, Florida. The challenge: to write, cast, shoot and edit a short video or film, no longer than five minutes.

In thirty days.

Better still, receipts were to be kept; the budget limited to no more than $500, just to up the squirm factor a tad. On November 8th, the “theme” of this year’s contest would be announced via e-mail to all of the participating crews. Everything from “B”-roll to music cues had to be created within this thirty-day period. I liked it. I couldn’t wait. My girlfriend Jae attended the orientation that took place at the Enzian Theater while I traveled through the midwest and into the Pacific northwest. When I returned, we got engaged, celebrated, and then began having pre-production meetings regarding the upcoming shoot.

STEP ONE: Story

The theme came on November 8th as promised, and I’m not at liberty to reveal it here since the Gala Premiere is not slated to take place until February 1st, 2003. Suffice it to say, I immediately sank deep into a little three-letter word and began thinking of angles. With some kind of inspiration that must’ve been culled from an old “Saturday Night Live” mentality, I banged out a quick five-page script that typecast a musical acquaintance of mine, Karisa Nowak. With some of her talents in mind, I had managed to tie together a pretty package of in-kind location donations, amazing access to filming situations that lifted our production design bar and a hottie of a lead actress who could easily sing the hit song that we’d build a video around. It all was starting to look really good.

Then Jae read the first draft and dismissed it as “base.” “It’s too obvious,” she said. “You can do better.”

Well that’s sort of a two-edged sword there, on one hand it’s a compliment to be told that you can do better – but it also means that what you just wrote is total hog pie, so it’s back to square one with a revised slate and a clean approach. But she was right. The first story was a big cliché’ (albeit a well-dressed one) and I actually wondered if one of the other many crews would come up with at least one of the many elements that I had extracted from the one-word theme. I returned to the drawing board, a little crushed, but determined to come back with something that had teeth. Little did I know just how toothy it would get.

STEP TWO: Casting

Two weeks and seven drafts later, “MEDS” was born. Stemming from a dark spot in my soul and more than a probable need for confession, this sickly comic story needed real, everyday characters. My word processor had spit out manic-depressives, recovering Paxil users and a bipolar ex-girlfriend who, in a particularly violent moment, threatens death through a living-room window. We videotaped the casting sessions, noting that we’d have a file of talent to look at for future projects, and came away in the third week with a bright and able cast. The lead role of Macy went to Karisa; I was bound and determined to put her in front of a camera. Chantal Simpson read for Macy, but brought a note to Alice Just Alice that I hadn’t heard when writing her dialogue. Annette McAllister read for Alice Just Alice, but I secretly saw her as Bi-Polar Brandi for reasons of my own. She’d later prove her mettle in one of the videofilm’s most over-the-top scenes. Synamon Cummings had no competition for the part of Misty, as the role was written with her in mind, as was the part of Macy. With the three-day rush of casting completed, it was off to break down the script and figure out a shooting schedule.

STEP THREE: Preparing to Shoot

Though changes to the script were made during all three days of shooting, I had enough of a concrete structure for the plot to create a storyboard. In the margins at the top and bottom of the script, I sketched out thumbnails of camera angles and directions with some planned blocking for each of the 21 scenes. Calculating one minute per page, I had ended up with six and a quarter pages. “But most of page five is action,” I noted in a production meeting. “So we’re okay.” In hindsight, it’s truly amusing to look back and see just how wrong I was. The project was being shot with a Sony DV-2000 digital video camera rigged up with a Steadicam JR mount. One Audio-Technica hyper-cardioid mic routed directly into the camera would provide our sound and we’d planned on using available light for all of our shots. During the four days prior to shooting, I conducted light tests on location at Dante’s Italian Restaurant in Orlando, Florida and at my house in Colonialtown where we’d shoot both interiors and exteriors. This would work both for us and against us, obviously, without a lighting rig to setup and tear-down, we’d be saving time moving the camera around. However, just as obviously, we’d be at the mercy of mercurial Orlando weather, known for screwing up continuity with the sweep of a cloud front. With our shooting schedule finally completed, we made the phone calls, suggested tones of wardrobe, the latest drafts of the script were e-mailed and handed out and plans to convene with our two lead actresses began in earnest. With a slew of pre-production dailies to consider, we were pretty well-armed going into the three-day shoot. Or so we thought.

STEP FOUR: Action!

Day One: We were cramming a lot of effort into three days time due to scheduling issues and simple logistics. The first scene needed the sounds of a busy lunch crowd along with an establishing shot of the gathered diners. Thankfully, this shot was accomplished rather painlessly as Chantal and dear Megan Phipps, one of the Dante’s managers standing in as a hostess, knocked the shot off in about four or five takes. Satisfied with the effort, we broke for lunch, during which time I recorded about seven minutes of room tone to use for the rest of the restaurant scenes. Skipping forward through the script, we then eyed the very last scene in which our two female leads drive down the street. It required a bit more effort to get this scene in the bag. Using my green ‘91 Ford Aerostar as a Shotmaker, we slung open the sliding door and attempted to pace our leads in the symbolically red car next to us. Hollywood’s ace precision driving teams make this look a lot easier than it actually is, especially when dealing with an actress who can’t maintain a steady pace, let alone the speed limit. With our transportation driver speeding up and slowing down to match Karisa’s erratic surging, I dangled out the sliding door of the Aerostar, bracing myself against a nasty spill with only my right foot, shooting and shouting directions at the two of them. After holding up traffic for several minutes, an evaluation of the video revealed that we’d have enough useable footage to wrap this dangerous exercise.

It was in the late afternoon that we broke camp. Dailies were disturbing at first, maybe due to heightened expectations about the performance of the digital camera with available light. The Dante’s dining room bleeds red due to a wall fixture outside of the windows. There, in our shots, was early afternoon sunlight bouncing red hues all across our scenes. I hated it. I wished it was blue or white, anything but red. But in keeping with the theme of the film, the color red seemed somehow appropriate and we left it at that. Confident that production was moving along well – we settled in for the night and focused on the first grueling day of set-ups to come.

Day Two: The first of three things that broke was the tripod. Luckily, I caught the camera before it plunged haplessly onto the floor. We were gathered together at Dante’s prior to opening, taking advantage of a controlled audio-recording environment. I was just preparing to shoot the wide angle of Macy and Alice Just Alice as they meet for lunch, a pivotal series of scenes, when the camera pitched forward due to a stripped handle. Jae dashed off to find a replacement, wondering if this would count towards our budget limit of $500. Receipts were kept for everything and so far we had been keeping a tight rein on our expenses. Since we were unable to continue the setup for shooting, I decided to take that time to rehearse the actors a bit. When the replacement tripod arrived, we felt assured enough to begin shooting. Boom operator Ron Smith took his position and I guided the microphone into place just above the actresses’ heads. As a first-time director who has never attended film school, everything I’ve soaked up over the years was put to the test and I suppose that it was played pretty close to the bone. The wide shot, backlit with natural light. “A” shot on Alice, “B” shot on Macy, some inserts and a couple of wide angle P.O.V. shots and the first scene was complete. A few other scenes in the restaurant were knocked down quickly, we were losing light and still had some interiors to do at my house across town. “Next location!” was called and we moved camp quickly. <p>With production photographer Tina Demasi capturing the chaos and production assistant Katie Hartmann serving as relay/1st A.D., our company’s moves were incredibly efficient. There wasn’t much to shoot at the house, just the attack of Bi-Polar Brandi and the first scenes with Michale and Misty. Annette showed up and nailed her scenes without a rehearsal; she was simply amazing. Her ten seconds of screen time are, in my opinion, the most heart-pounding seconds of the entire short.

After tackling some tough logistics regarding mirrors, props, booms and cables, we knocked out two scenes and all the voice-overs for Michael, but not before our heroic production photographer, standing in as boom operator, safely passed off the expensive equipment that she was holding before her chair collapsed beneath her and shattered into dozens of pieces, sending her crashing down to the floor. The second thing that we’d break during this production, thankfully not a bone or a pair of glasses. “That’s a wrap!” A mini-celebration ensues at a nearby Bennigan’s where we review the dailies and feel a sense of excitement. It’s very much starting to take shape.

Day Three: This was our mostly exterior day; shots of the house, Michael driving down the road, the conflict in the parking lot and some cutaways. Now keep in mind, fair and gentle readers, that I’m not only the director of this short, I’m also the camera person, the property master, the script supervisor, lighting tech, gaffer, grip, best-boy, 1st, 2nd and 3rd A.D. and production coordinator. I’m my own union. In any case, that’s a whole load of hats to wear, so somehow, I informed one of our lead actresses that we didn’t need her on this day, which was actually quite the opposite of true. In fact, she was needed for a very pivotal scene that we were going to shoot guerilla-style in a strip mall around the corner from our production H.Q. at my house. Worse still – we had shot for three days with glorious blue skies and bright sunshine, but it was beginning to get cloudy in the western hemisphere and our light was going to be cut in half, time-wise. Much diffusion was on its way, which spelled trouble for our continuity. Quickly, I shot the dramatic final scenes in the living room, then ran with Kevin Townsley to shoot in my Aerostar for his scenes driving. A few more inserts and then, by the grace of God, Synamon calls up and wonders if she needs to be on set, to which we emphatically cry, “Yes!”

The parking lot scene had been storyboarded, but we hadn’t really gotten permission to shoot there, so we were attempting to be as unobtrusive as possible. Thankfully, we got in there and got out with beautiful results and then returned to the house to complete shooting, which would include the climactic sequence of Macy returning home and voice-overs for Chantal, whose Alice Just Alice is also the film’s narrator. It’s through her eyes, mainly, that we see the events unfold.

“We all need medication. We’ve got so many reasons to be medicated. Human issues.”

We used the room tone that would be consistent with the rest of the picture, thanks to a semi-active main drive nearby. Somehow, in the process of moving microphone stands and tripods, we pulled a door right off of its hinges – the third and final casualty of the production. As three is most certifiably a magic number, we figured that in three days of shooting, that was a pretty magical sign. Hopefully, the post-production process would go even smoother. By the time that I called “Wrap!” on that final day, the ideas were already swimming in my head. Everyone wanted to head out for a little dinner and celebration while I wanted to dive right in and begin editing. The rhythm was flowing, still in front of my eyes, fresh from all of the perspectives that I had implanted there during our so recently wrapped production. I couldn’t keep them waiting, the image would fade – like the trick where you stare at the smudge and then see George Washington wherever you look. You know. Editing was going to begin immediately after dinner, if one thing was for certain.

STEP FIVE: Post -Production

Well sir, I jumped right in there with relish, firing up Final Cut Pro 3.1 and cataloging all of the footage. I had already made notes on what takes I liked based on the dailies, but I kept my mind open towards alternatives as I uploaded media to the hard drive of my Mac G4. Keeping in mind my marketing ideas for the short, I imported the logo that I wanted to use and began with the fade-in of Macy’s, sobbing, distorted face, bearing the beautiful violet-colored flower behind her ear. From there, I sat over the pieces and didn’t stop cutting until 15 hours later. Early morning coffee kept me somewhat lucid as I viewed the rough draft of “MEDS,” which timed in at six minutes and twenty seconds. It became painfully clear to me that some minor editing would have to take place. The first cuts were difficult, this is stuff that I had scripted to drive the point home, to get the information out there. Gradually, with selective cuts here and there, it became easy. The screenplay hints at relationships and situations anyway, so by making it more vague and direct-to-the-point, I was able to cut extraneous commentary and trim the key scenes down quite a bit. I snipped the edges off a few sections here and there, made shorter cross-cuts and even toyed with the length of the titles. Finally, after much slight-of-hand and tortured sacrifice, I brought it in at 4:59;26 – anything over five minutes, even a second, would’ve disqualified us.

The very last steps involved sound: recording the score and sound effects. I had used a couple of tracks from “One Hour Photo” as temp material and really liked the mood that it created. Trying to create that mood with original music without aping the temp track proved to be a real challenge as it was hard to accept anything less than the perfect fit of the temp material. Apparently, this happens a lot with filmmakers, some of whom use songs as temp tunes, only to end up licensing the song because they can’t see it any other way. I used a Roland Fantom for the score, taking advantage of its warm, rich sounds and 16-track digital sequencer. Finally – I coerced my cat Blackjack Savage into offering up some “meows” for one scene, recorded ringing phones of different timbres and literally threw myself on the ground over and over again to simulate a vicious tackle. Once it was all encoded into the Mac, I fine-tuned all of the audio channels for various scenes, mastering the levels and raising everything to an across-the-board consistency.

And then I stepped back, thought about it for an interminable length of time, and then started the movie.

Surprise of surprises, it worked! Though I had been the closest person to the subject matter, I was able to stand far enough back from it on this viewing to realize that it played as a passable short film. People might even like it. We shipped it off to the Entertainment Industry Incubator on December 7th, 2002, and about a month later it was announced that 16 short films had made it to the semifinals. “MEDS” was one of those films. All 16 films would be shown in Miami on February 1st, 2003, as part of a big gala premiere at the Roney Palace on Miami Beach. The semifinalists will be viewed and judged that evening by a panel that includes Steve Rothenberg, President, Artisan Releasing (Bowling for Columbine, Rodger Dodger), Bill Thompson, Exec. VP, Newmarket Films (Real Women Have Curves), Kelly DeVine, Senior VP, Shorts, IFC Films and Diana Lezbeth, VP. Acquisitions, Arenas Group. An elaborate dinner and dance party is part of the mix and two of the sixteen films will be awarded the top prize in their respective categories: novice and professional. Also included in the package for semifinalists, a two-hour workshop with the panel regarding how to get your project seen and sold.

I’m not exactly sure what we win if we do, but that’s not the important thing, obviously. What we’ve got now is a movie that we’re proud of, that can open some doors for us in this field. Of course, everyone involved with the movie is proud and excited as we prepare to make the trip down to Miami. The biggest prize, really, is having stood in the back of a room where people have watched this film and responded to it. You know. Audible things, moans, laughter, exclamations of “oh my God!” It’s a very satisfying feeling and you only get to experience it for the first time once. That alone was worth the effort.

But it would be nice to get paid for this kind of work. And so we move forward and seek that as a by-product for the joys of making movies in 30 days. Blessings to all of you until we meet at this place in time again.

Oh, and check out the official website for “MEDS” ( http://www.darkstudios.com/meds ) for more pictures and info. Thank you for sharing the journey with us!

Pa gjensyn,

“bfsig”