Dictionary.com defines invisible as:
Let me explain. So you made a movie. You braved primadonas (not always actors), high strung perfectionists (not always techs), compromises, harsh realities and an entire kitchen sink full of other bloggable issues (and believe me, it's coming). You worked hard, you struggled, you fought, you clawed...tooth, nail, etc. Now what? What now? Now? Let's make all that hard work invisible. I mean, that's your job, right? Think about about movies. Think about moviegoers. Do most people notice editing? No. It's meant to be invisible. A movie is a series of scenes shot (usually) out-of-order under various different conditions and settings. Now marry them together in Holy Cinematics. On this production alone I had to take footage that was shot on the Very First Day of Shooting and marry it to shots done on the Very Last Day of Shooting. The crew was different (no DP or make-up VS my first day with both). And it looks gorgeous. You wouldn't notice unless you were me. Then consider sound. In real life, air conditioners and cars and planes can sometimes drown out two people talking right next to each other. Not in a movie though. Characters and soundtrack can co-exist in perfect harmony with those Planes, Trains and Automobiles bidden to their proper place-the background. Then there's color. How yellow is the sun? How much blue exists in nature? But a film has to have a "look" and you muck with the "actual" (what you shot) to create it. AND, as long as it looks "natural" (apropriate) who's going to question it? Show of hands? That's what I thought. We've been raised to believe that you get a camera, round up some make-pretenders and boom, "the oscar goes to" and all that. But the truth is, as hard as you worked then, that's just the start. And as much as you sacrificed, there's still so much to give. The Truth Is, as hard as you'll work: making razor sharp edits and composing pitch perfect audio...when you finally sit down in front of an audience, the last thought in your head before the lights go down will be, "Man, I hope they don't notice anything."
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I always forget what it's like to actually "make" a movie. The non-filming part (pre-production to you newbs) is all-consuming: Writing, casting, locations, Oh my! Money: how much you're gonna need vs. how much you're gonna get (or have). Who needs what? Who can't be there? Who told you that? It's a nightmare. On wheels.
You plan for everything (and anything) You work so hard (and so quickly). Sacrifice so much (it's all gonna be worth it). Then, a few months (or years-yes, years) later, the fun part: Filming. What you've worked so hard to get to in the first place. The point where reality takes fiction on a road trip. And you (me) get to be the navigator. But still, I always forget what it's like to actually make a movie...till we get on set and it all comes flooding back to me. Our first weekend, or bloc, reminded me of the things I always forget that I've missed about shooting. I've compiled a short list here: a short glimpse into the Best Job in the World. 5. Set Jokes - I cannot overstate the significance of these. They unite cast and crew in a way that people never notice. Like any social situation, cliques are in inevitable and unavoidable but humor is the great equalizer. One good joke, a laugh shared by all, can be used to diffuse tension, and, more importantly, get techs and artists to relate. The good ones carry on from one production to the next. Eventually you forget where they came from (not that it matters), but their impact is never lost. 4. Transformations - Like re-introductions to the same people that you've met. It could be an actor that comes alive on camera or a crew member that shows their true colors in a crisis. It's usually positive and always amazing. Here is a person that you've put in a box and suddenly the box must expand to encompass new ingredients of what makes this person tick. No such thing as a second impression? I beg to differ sir. 3. Set life - When I first started making movies almost everything ran through me. Location logistics, costume decisions, camera placement. Consequently I knew the most about what was happening on my set. Who's doing what (or whom)? Who's saying this? Why are you wearing that? Etc. As things have gotten more professional, I have begrudgingly relinquished control of certain departments (which are not necessarily my strengths) to others and the loss of certain information (gossip) is an unfortunate side effect. I still hear things (after the fact) but the buffer that shields me also protects me as well so the more unpleasant stuff is someone else's anecdote instead of my immediate issue. Which allows me to enjoy set drama in it's proper format. 2. That Feeling - I'm supposed to be doing this. I don't feel like that doing anything else (except being married to my wife). This is my job. This is my passion. This is my purpose. To tell stories My Way. And even though I'm not sure if there's an audience for them yet, I know I won't stop till I find one. Even stressed, I'm at peace, alive with the knowledge of Place. I am centered. I am focused. I am defined. If it sounds cheesy then that's because it's indescribable. Have you ever felt that? Few things (in my opinion) can touch it. Except, 1. Watching it Come to Life - I love stories. Stories of all types and kinds so it's no surprise (to me, at least) that writing has always come naturally. Life inspires, books have held my attention but movies have changed my life. And I guess it follows (for most writers) that you tell the kind of stories that you love the most. I've written in a lot of mediums but the discovery of writing images for the screen has enamored me more (and longer) than anything else. You rake yourself over hot coals and broken glass (metaphorically) to get the narrative right, then, amazingly, you are allowed to take it and re-create it in a new way that will come with a (behind-the-scenes) tale of it's own. It's an intoxicating process: simultaneously processing the (real-life) stories of the people breathing life into the (make-believe) characters I've created. Reality and fiction: harmonizing. I always forget what it's like to actually make a movie: writing is hard, pre-production is grueling and life (generally) gets in the way. But like the song says, "It's all about the Journey." One that I'll gladly take (time and again), plodding forward, one (determined) foot in front of the other-because the one thing I've never forgotten is 'Why'. Second is hard.
Like...supremely. Seriously, I racked my brain to figure a out a way to deliver something fresh/interesting/amusing without giving you the same/boring/stupid. I wanted to talk about how the movie was going. I wanted to compliment my actors. I wanted to express feelings of fear/jealousy/competition for my Indy film making brethren. I wanted to take my head and put it on the page. And I wanted to do it In Brief. They call it 'The Sophomore Slump' (almost the title for this piece) for a reason, y'know? Well, it wasn't easy, but, after much deliberation/head banging/tears I believe I have found the perfect device by which to speak my piece. I title this composition: An Intimate Conversation with the Powers That Be (Part 2) FADE IN: INT. living room of rob's mind - anytime ROB is sitting on the couch, arms spread over the back of it, head back, eyes closed. MASSIVE SPEAKERS blast music by (the-one-and-only) Thomas Newman. From down the hall enters ROB's BRAIN (BRAIN) holding his ears and frowning. He starts in with, BRAIN Geebees, can you turn it down? You're going to rock me loose it's so loud. ROB (eyes still closed) Thinkin'. BRAIN Oh like I don't know. The violins, the smell of frying synapses. I can't tell if it's a barbecue or a funeral. The music comes down of its own accord. ROB Dude, I don't have that much brain power to begin with- BRAIN -Got that right- ROB -so let's not waste precious processing power on snarky one liners. BRAIN 'Precious Processing Power'. Say that three times fast- ROB -Let's, just, not, okay? Can we not? I've got stuff percolating up here. BRAIN Yeah, I saw your thought queue. You're really worried about the movie, huh? ROB I dunno. I guess. BRAIN Things are going fine! ROB It's not that- BRAIN Then what is it? Really? Cause some of this is my department and some of it isn't. ROB I dunno, man. I just keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. Things have been going so well...I don't want to screw things up. BRAIN Translation: you've talked so much crap about other film makers, now your movie's on the chopping block and you're nervous. ROB Well, BRAIN So this is about your ego. ROB It is and it isn't. BRAIN What you just said doesn't make any sense. ROB Okay it is! But I've had my nose in the dirt for almost ten years. I know I can suss out a project that sounds better, looks better- BRAIN -You don't want it to suck. I copy. ROB Hey look, I'm not doing this for bragging rights- BRAIN Liar. Own up to your prideful aspirations. You'll sleep better. ROB Fine. It's about pride. But after ten years of being committed-nay- married to the...method of film making, I don't think a little bit of pride is too much to ask for. BRAIN Kid, I got news for you: If you're not ready now, you're never gonna be. And now your wife, your friends/family and those nice, talented folks you aren't paying are looking at you to deliver- ROB No pressure- BRAIN -there's tons of pressure, but this is YOU said YOU wanted to do. This is YOUR dream. YOUR vision. So man up, put on your big boy pants and do the damn thing. From beyond the room, a woman's voice. Faint, but getting louder. VOICE OVER Rob? ROB Just like that? BRAIN You're being summoned. And yes. VOICE OVER Baby? ROB Good talk. BRAIN Good luck. FADE TO white. FADE IN: INT. rob's actual living room - now Rob pulls off his headphones and opens his eyes. Staring back at him is his lovely (and talented) wife, MICHA. Micha Hon? I'm sorry. Were you sleeping? ROB Not really. Sort of...lost in thought. MICHA Okay...anything you want to talk about? ROB Nah. I'm good now. MICHA You're sure? ROB (breathes out) I am. FADE OUT. Fin. In order to fully wax poetic on the movie That Will Be, I feel that it's only fair-nay-necessary for me to (briefly) expand upon the movie...That Almost Was.
*ahem* The story of "She's in the Details" starts in 2002 when a much purer (naive) version of me existed. A bumbling boob who was convinced that an unrequited crush (from High School, for God's sake) was "The Real Thing", this idiot (dolt), this moron (fool), this handsome fellow (deluded), after a series of (post-High School) misadventures decided that his burning secret had to come out! It had to be said! I had to come clean! I'm breaking the rules of tense! Mistake. Rejection has always been a form of motivation for me. And this time was no different. I endeavored, as always, to turn my pain into prose, and my weapon of choice (at the time and forever onward) was screenwriting. I split my personality into four less-than-equal parts and sent them on a road trip toward Peace of Mind...only it didn't work, of course. Not because of the story, but because once I had the four characters-all guys-in the car and got them talking, I realized I had a problem: They all sounded like a bunch of chicks. What does that say about me? However, rather than being discouraged, I was delighted, as the challenge of changing the main characters to women offered much more than simple cathartic prose. A variety of ideas were brainstormed, rejected, then executed and in 2003 I completed my first draft of a script that was "Documentary of a Car Ride" (What can I say? I was young). This script, completed in 9 days (true story) and running just over 100 pages (a respectable length) featured some of the worst dialogue ever written for women (seriously) inside of a convoluted, melodramatic plot scheme: 4 women go on a road trip to rediscover their friendship, only to be conned and robbed by a hitch hiker (who's on a journey to be an actress? what?!) -she blows up their car and leaves them alive, but reunited, on the side of the road. And what's crazier? People liked it. Bad plotting, dialogue n' all, folks took the story and the project grew wings. Locations were set up, Actors made plans (to come down from as far north as Canada, for free) and the project fell through, mercifully (in retrospect), and the script was sent to the shelf...where it sat (more or less) until 2007. A friend of mine, intrigued by the roots of the story, campaigned for a re-write. I fell in love with The Girls again and a re-write was done. As a test, I offered the new draft to my wife (then girlfriend) who read it, handed it back, smiled at me and said, "Not yet, hon." And so then, another rewrite, from page one, something more dramatic this time began. I subtracted, added, maintained until a new story took shape. And amidst this new beginning came an investor, let's call him, for anonymity's sake, 'Dad', who offered me $20,000 dollars to fund the project! Unfortunately, our 'investor' ultimately decided that he'd rather fund the opening of a beach front bicycle shop (you simply cannot make things like this up, they have to happen naturally)...and the project fell through, painfully (in retrospect), causing a breakdown at the script stage. I stalled 15 pages into the second act and the script was sent to the shelf...where it sat (more or less) until... 2009. Last year, when the implosion of another project (whose very existence was inspired by the implosion of SITD script) prompted me to go back to where it all started. Time and distance gave me the clarity to finish the story that I think I wanted to tell since those first nine days in '03. And when my wife (then my fiancée) handed me back the newly (finally) completed draft in August of last year, she smiled, then looked at me thoughtfully and said, "I think you've got something here." Robert Hagans Writer/Producer/Director "She's in the Details" |
Robert Hagans
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