Well, folks, we've made it to our final one-week countdown. Principle photography for ALONE IN THE UNIVERSE begins on Tuesday, August 12 -- just seven days from today!
The team has been hard at work developing the schedule, scouting locations, and planning for equipment usage and wardrobe changes. I just polished the script over the weekend, and I'm doing one final rehearsal with Bob Ford tonight.
In light of the craziness that has been pre-production, I'm reminded of something I posted on Facebook a couple months ago. I'd like to reprint it (with some very minor modification) here:
The team has been hard at work developing the schedule, scouting locations, and planning for equipment usage and wardrobe changes. I just polished the script over the weekend, and I'm doing one final rehearsal with Bob Ford tonight.
In light of the craziness that has been pre-production, I'm reminded of something I posted on Facebook a couple months ago. I'd like to reprint it (with some very minor modification) here:
I emerged this morning from a long, restless night of serious reflection. I suspect that all artists ask themselves at some time or another why they do what they do. I mean, I'm not solving world hunger or curing terminal illnesses. I make movies. So what?
I'm a huge fan of Chuck Jones's Roadrunner/Coyote cartoons from the 1950s. I was recently looking at a screen grab of Wile E. Coyote poised to run headlong into a tunnel he himself had painted onto the side of a cliff face. You may be familiar with the gag. The Roadrunner runs through the painted tunnel, thwarting the intended death trap, but the Coyote flattens like a pancake when he hits the rock. And I thought, that's filmmaking. We paint a tunnel on the side of a cliff and charge into it at full speed hoping against all logic, all probability, all hope, that somehow we'll find ourselves on the other side of the mountain. Some make it, some don't. So why do we put ourselves through all that irrational misery?
For me, the answer is multifaceted.
For one thing, I can't help it. I have to tell stories, like a shark that must keep moving forward lest it die. It's what I'm called to do. If I don't make movies, or at least tell stories of some kind, I'll shrivel up and disappear. It's that simple. It's what I'm here for.
For anther thing, and perhaps more importantly, I've gotten to spend my days with some of the coolest people in this industry: Scott Merriman, Robert William Ford, Diane Kowalski, Ryan Leeder, Rachel Higgins-Bernhardt, Elizabeth Merriman, Phil Worfel (grumble), Charly Lee Bivona, Anthony E. Griffin, Chris Porter, Evan Koons, Jason Lowe, Cort Langeland, Alexie Schneider, David J Gries, Joseph Scott Anthony, Jack Michael Findley, Alicia Deven Clark, Lynn Kay Montgomery, Jess Rogers, Richard Raphael, Alicia Humphrey, and my most recent muse, the magnificent Dana Blackstone. There are so many more … far too many to list here. To these and all my other filmmaker/actor friends and muses, I say thank you. It has been an honor and a privilege working with you. You make me a better artist and a better person.
I mean, seriously, we create art together. We merge our collective creativity to form something beautiful or funny or sometimes both, and really, isn't that enough? Isn't that why we do what we do? It's the collaboration that truly gives it meaning. At least, that's what it is for me. And I'm going to keep doing it no matter what. Because I have to keep moving forward.
Now let's charge into that painted tunnel and make some more movies. It's what we're here for.
So that Roadrunner/Coyote metaphor I mentioned … Yeah, that's what I've been going through over the last few months. There have been times I wanted to simply give up. But somehow, for every step backwards, my team and I have managed to take a couple steps forward. And as we make our final plans to charge into that painted tunnel, I am confident that we'll make it through relatively unscathed.
It's been a wild pre-production phase, and I'm eager to get into actual production! Stay tuned for more updates over the next seven days!
I'm a huge fan of Chuck Jones's Roadrunner/Coyote cartoons from the 1950s. I was recently looking at a screen grab of Wile E. Coyote poised to run headlong into a tunnel he himself had painted onto the side of a cliff face. You may be familiar with the gag. The Roadrunner runs through the painted tunnel, thwarting the intended death trap, but the Coyote flattens like a pancake when he hits the rock. And I thought, that's filmmaking. We paint a tunnel on the side of a cliff and charge into it at full speed hoping against all logic, all probability, all hope, that somehow we'll find ourselves on the other side of the mountain. Some make it, some don't. So why do we put ourselves through all that irrational misery?
For me, the answer is multifaceted.
For one thing, I can't help it. I have to tell stories, like a shark that must keep moving forward lest it die. It's what I'm called to do. If I don't make movies, or at least tell stories of some kind, I'll shrivel up and disappear. It's that simple. It's what I'm here for.
For anther thing, and perhaps more importantly, I've gotten to spend my days with some of the coolest people in this industry: Scott Merriman, Robert William Ford, Diane Kowalski, Ryan Leeder, Rachel Higgins-Bernhardt, Elizabeth Merriman, Phil Worfel (grumble), Charly Lee Bivona, Anthony E. Griffin, Chris Porter, Evan Koons, Jason Lowe, Cort Langeland, Alexie Schneider, David J Gries, Joseph Scott Anthony, Jack Michael Findley, Alicia Deven Clark, Lynn Kay Montgomery, Jess Rogers, Richard Raphael, Alicia Humphrey, and my most recent muse, the magnificent Dana Blackstone. There are so many more … far too many to list here. To these and all my other filmmaker/actor friends and muses, I say thank you. It has been an honor and a privilege working with you. You make me a better artist and a better person.
I mean, seriously, we create art together. We merge our collective creativity to form something beautiful or funny or sometimes both, and really, isn't that enough? Isn't that why we do what we do? It's the collaboration that truly gives it meaning. At least, that's what it is for me. And I'm going to keep doing it no matter what. Because I have to keep moving forward.
Now let's charge into that painted tunnel and make some more movies. It's what we're here for.
So that Roadrunner/Coyote metaphor I mentioned … Yeah, that's what I've been going through over the last few months. There have been times I wanted to simply give up. But somehow, for every step backwards, my team and I have managed to take a couple steps forward. And as we make our final plans to charge into that painted tunnel, I am confident that we'll make it through relatively unscathed.
It's been a wild pre-production phase, and I'm eager to get into actual production! Stay tuned for more updates over the next seven days!