Category: Production Blogs

After two weeks of sleepless nights, I seem to have boundless energy. I think I may have tip-toed past the realm of exhaustion and entered the one labeled “giddy euphoria”. Maybe it’s relief. Denial. Maybe it’s the veal parmigiana I had at “Monte Carlo”. Regardless, my first project as director has wrapped principal photography and the weight has been lifted. And to further underline my derangement, I’ll say this: I didn’t want it to end.

THE MONEY SHOT

But let me ‘splain further. At 5:35 tonight, we were playing catch up. During our four days of filming, there were several scenes, beats, etc. that I felt were missing. As a result, we hurried over to a generic location inside Slate Run Park in central Ohio to snag those ingredients we needed to enhance the telling of “Untold”. As we cut on what I thought to be our last shot for the film shoot, I realized what was missing: our last shot for the film. THE last shot. The one that makes us feel all warm inside. That leaves us feeling like maybe the world isn’t such an armpit afterall, that just maybe there’s some cause for celebration in this sad and fragile world. Yeah, that last shot. Didn’t have it.

Now my intention all along had been to run back to this spot where we shot an earlier sequence; our lead character lost his hat while dashing down a hill. I thought “wouldn’t it be swell to have him pull his old body back up that hill, grab his hat, and saunter on over the horizon. Magical, si? Si.

But no, that location was a good hour from where we were tonight, and we had about ten more minutes of decent light before dark.

MAYBE IF I DON’T SAY ANYTHING, EVERYTHING WILL HAPPEN THE WAY I WANT IT TO.

Secretly I had hoped that Ed Vaughan, our lead, would chime in with a, “don’t worry, Sam. Wherever you need me to be at this time tomorrow night, I’m there.” Clearly, that wasn’t about to happen; this man had already given up four days of his time for no money. He had run through forests illegally for three straight days. He had walked into somebody’s front door who was not aware there was a film being shot on their property. Clearly this man had sacrificed enough for our little cause.

So I had to think of something excruciatingly fast. I thought of looking for another hill just like the one in our dashing sequence. Not a hill in sight. I thought of using footage we already had. Nothing sprang to mind. So, with about five good minutes of light left on our last day of shooting, I threw down the camera in the grass, we framed our actor up, and we shot him disappearing into the blades of grass. The sky above him fanned out an array of grays and blues, and in the distance a pale pink. It was marvelous. It was the most fun I have had on this entire project.

This project, as I’m sure you may have guessed from my last blog, was not all that fun for me. I had surrendered to panic. I was fondled by defeat. I was sodomized by sullenness (sorry, too subtle?). Here all these people were giving their weekends, even their weekdays to this project. And all I wanted to do was wriggle myself out of the responsibility of any of it.

But then we got that shot. That one that made me feel all funny inside, like the first time you french kiss (am I doing this right? Is this wrong? Is this one of the Ten Commandments?). That shot that made me feel like a pro. Like an old pro. Like maybe I’m not meant solely for great disasters.

What exactly I’m going to do with this newfound self-respect is anyone’s guess. Who am I kidding. Most likely, I’ll go back to the old ways. My comfort zone. To feeling like I should just stick with acting and wait for the SAG checks to float down from on high. Not to mention, I DO still have to edit this thing. To sift through all the mistakes. The soft focus. The weak lighting. The aspirations that fell a tad short.

But until then… giddy euphoria.

Ignorance, afterall, is bliss.

-Sam Jaeger

Author’s note: The author would like to apologize for his romantic musings below, and especially for the seemingly deliberate unfunny nature of the following blog. He attests that he tried to “bring the funny”, but was dismayed to find that “the funny was not to be brought’n”. He appreciates his readers’ understanding on this matter. “His readers” being his father and possibly someone looking for the Scrubs blog.

UNTOLD: DAY ONE

Day one should have been two. Possibly three. Alas, in an effort to consolidate our shooting schedule, and also because of the horrendous weather Ohio’s having, our first day of shooting Untold was a mild disappointment. And I must admit, the blame should fall on my shoulders. Why? Quite possibly because that’s how I wanted it.

YOU CAN NEVER HAVE TOO MUCH OF A BAD THING

I’m drawn to failure. Hooked, actually. Most people that know me would assume that I must be content with where I am in my life; I’ve got a wonderful fiance, a steady acting career, and a one-eyed cat that adores me. Not exactly “failure” by its definition. But, just maybe, that’s why I’m drawn to it.

I made several major errors when conceiving our film shoot. We didn’t get our first shot off until 2 1/2 hours after call time. On any film shoot, that’s bad news. In my effort to keep my film crew sparse, I neglected to hire an experienced assistant director. While the person I hired was incredibly supportive, she’d never AD’d before. Without a solid AD, a film set gets bogged down. Quickly. The director wants a better frame, the actor needs another take, the cinematographer needs more time to light; it’s a mess. And though the footage we did get looks remarkable, it’s the footage we didn’t get that I’m stuck on.

On the drive home from shooting yesterday, I looked back on all of this. All of my successes, all of my failures. My urge to contribute something as a filmmaker. And I asked myself, possibly aloud, “Is this what you wanted? All this work, wearing eight different hats, loading all these responsibilities onto my back only to carry out half of them? Does this make you happy?” And on a day like monday, when we only got through half of our shot list, what’s the answer to that? How can we celebrate our acheivements when our failings follow so close behind?

I have the rest of the week to get this film in the can. I went to bed at 9:30 last night, something I don’t think I’ve done since elementary school. And as I lay there, the different versions of the film washed over me; the one I had dreamed, and the one I had tried to make to serve that dream. It seems I’m still holding onto the belief that eventually the two will merge. But what causes us to believe in that way? What compels us to hope, however irrational it may be? Whatever it is, I am filled of it. Right now, it is just enough to keep me going. Just enough to keep me ahead of this failure I seem to crave. Just barely.

-Sam Jaeger

I SHOULD HAVE SHINGLES BY NOW.
With ten days until we shoot, I’d like to take this opportunity to give myself a little pat on the back. You see, ordinarily my body would be rejecting such stress, forcing me into the hospital with a number of rare ailments found only in lab rats. Once, as I think I mentioned in an earlier blog, I got shingles while laboring over a screenplay. But not this time. Why? Because I have decided to pretend making a movie is fun.

MAKING A MOVIE IS FUN.
Or at least it can be with the right psychotherapist. That is, with the right outlook on this process, you TOO can avoid both a mental and a physical collapse. Example: rather than worry about something as trivial as whether or not you have insurance to cover the $20,000 worth of rented equipment, focus instead on the fact that you’ve already cast your film! OR, rather than worry about how to operate a camera you’ve never held in your life, focus on the fact that your storyboards look very pretty! See? It’s all in how you approach filmmaking. I myself have chosen to approach it with a sparkling delusion.

TO BOLDLY GO WHERE aww, who the hell am I kidding?
The one drawback of boldly making a film on your own is that you have to be bold throughout. You can’t get halfway in and pass off the duties to a studio exec. How are you in the process? Have you planned your film? Called your crew? Polished your script, and etched your storyboards? Or are you losing boldness by the pound? If doubt is ever going to creep in, it’s going to happen now.

FRAILTY, THY NAME IS FILMMAKER
To share from my own experience, the night before we shot Advantage Hart, I had a minor breakdown (and I say “minor” only to shield my feminine side). We were $6000 over budget for all of our equipment rentals, and facing the likelihood of shutting the picture down. Kate Bosworth and the rest of our talented cast had just left my house after an awkward rehearsal, and my co-writer/co-producer Mike Hobert and I were trying to make sense of our gluttonous budget. With our director Seibenick, our cinematographer Terrence Hayes, Mike and I all huddled in our make-shift office, I remember the idea of calling all 100 people involved to tell them the movie wasn’t happening. Have you ever gone into the dentist’s office for x-rays and they drape that thick, heavy bib over your chest? That’s what it felt like. I’m not ashamed to admit, I think I shed a few tears. “Just tell me we’re going to make a great film.”

The next morning Mike and I called all of the rental houses and told them we couldn’t pay the price they were asking. In three hours we shaved that $6000 off our budget.

AS AMERICAN AS APPLE PIE*
What could be more American than filmmaking? Hollywood gets thrashed by the media for having corrupted our culture, but I think that’s unfounded. Filmmaking is about entrepeneurship; our fervent belief that we can make something out of absolutely nothing. We can make a sound stage look like a space station. We can make Orlando Bloom a Kentuckian. Even more, we can rise out of our social class. We can dream the impossible dream. Against enormous odds. With nothing but a few tools, a singular idea, and the will to see it through.

*(Apple pie, by the way, is not American. It was invented in medieval times in europe and the recipes were brought over during colonialism. The fact that we’ve stolen and claimed it as our own simply makes it MORE American, doesn’t it?! Like that time we took that land from the Indians. What was that called? Oh yeah: “AMERICA”!!)

ONWARD!!!
So run out now and continue this bold pursuit. You have the American Dream to uphold, you see?! And if you have to steal locations… remember apple pie. If you have to steal dialogue from another film… remember apple pie. Should you find yourself in a make-shift office surrounded by your friends, shedding a tear for your dwindling aspirations, remember the soldiers of WWII who, when asked by reporters why they were going to war, often responded: “For mother and apple pie!!!”

EPILOGUE
On Sunday, Seibenick, Mike and I are getting together to whip up a film. In one day. Running around Los Angeles. By Monday, we’ll have a finished short. Possibly two. Just like we often did in highschool, when filmmaking was just a couple of kids pretending. Before it became something impractical: a math equation. A headache. When it was still a dream.

-Sam Jaeger

I’m in a quandary. I found a beautiful location for the film I’m shooting at the end of this month. It’s a farm built in the 1800’s and kept completely intact. No busy nearby roads, no streetlights, no modern renovations. It is, for all intents and purposes, perfect. It is also, however, part of a state park. “How is that a problem,” you may ask. Well, after all my chatter about starting a short film and seeing it through by the end of this month, I may be running into some time constraints. Or even worse…money constraints.

RESPONSIBILITY BLOWS
It does. It blows big. Because when you are responsible, you have to do things “by the book”. Which means “legally”. Which means “expensively”. As I said last week, you can go out and shoot a film for $150 if you so desire. I’m aiming to keep this film under $1000, and that was looking fairly possible up until yesterday when I discovered my dream location was under state supervision. What does that mean, exactly? INSURANCE. That’s right. That damning word. It’s a terrible word, isn’t it? It oozes off the tongue. It may be the least attractive word in the English language. Need proof? Try making out with somebody. In the middle of it, say something dirty like “I want you to cover me the way insurance does.” Watch the pheremones fly.

AWW, DO I GOTTA’?
No, I don’t gotta’. I can make this movie without permits and without insurance. But I’d have to say goodbye to my dream location. I’d have to scour central Ohio for an alternate location. What’s worse, I’m leaving October 25th for Ohio (I’m in LA right now) and we’ve got a start date of October 30th. That leaves four whole days to find a better spot, restructure my shooting schedule, and notify my actors. Not exactly ideal.

So let’s assume for a moment that I did do this movie “by the book”. Insurance for the last short film I did cost around $1300. Now for any of you math majors out there, to add that cost into my budget… puts me $300 in the hole. Without lifting a camera, without a frame of footage to show for it.

ALL INSURANCE AND NO PLAY MAKES SAM A DULL BOY
A little over a decade ago, my best friend Jeff Seibenick and I got lectured by the police for shooting a movie with fake guns. This was on my parents front lawn. I was barely 17. We were shooting “Whupsumass 4”, the sequel to our first action epic “Whupsumass 2” (we thought, and rightly so, that people were more drawn to sequels. Our third installment of the trilogy was “Whupsumass ’95”, naturally). Somebody in the neighborhood had apparently mistaken a group of teenagers with spray-painted water guns for an elite group of Russian Terrorists. An obvious mistake. (on a sidenote, I’d like to bring up a poll I had read three years ago in the Toledo Blade [“One of America’s Finest Newspapers”] listing people’s greatest concerns. Number 2 on the list was terrorism. I’d also like to point out that, should terrorists attack our country again, they would most assuredly begin in Toledo, Ohio. Mostly for giving the world the Mud Hens and Jamie Farr)

There’s something liberating about that memory with the cops. Here we were, a bunch of runt kids making movies on VHS (we even rented them out at the local video store). Perrysburg, Ohio was our movie studio. We made a movie about once a month for three years. It still stands as one of my greatest childhood memories. In fact, ever since we all went to college, went our separate ways, and reunited back here in LA, we’ve talked endlessly about restarting our little production company. And yet, nothing happens. Have we gotten too old? Has the move to LA taken the fun out of a renegade film crew? Whatever the reason or combination of reasons, it’s been enough to have stalled a handful of truly wonderful careers.

WHAT’S THE DIFF?
What’s kept us from making even a single movie with the old crew? What was so easy about making a movie ten years ago that’s been lost to us? In my mind it’s the burden of age. A decade of feeding our feeble minds with doubt, paranoia. We missed our chance. We lost our edge. We started intellectualizing film. Started wondering when we were going to leave our mark, and in what profound way? The result was a stalling of energies. Fortunately, the times are a changin’.

ANGER MAKES EVERYTHING BETTER
Living in LA and considering yourself a filmmaker is a bit of a joke. At least, that’s how everyone out here views it until you’ve done your first huge blockbuster. Then you’re a “genius” in the vein of Zach Braff. Quick question: how did Zach Braff become “the voice of our generation?” By making an uneven film that could’ve used a few months of rewrites? Come on. Remember when they’re on the edge of that cliff and they scream for no reason, and then they kiss for no reason? What the hell was that? You know it could have been better. Alas, I’m getting off track.

The point is this: Zach Braff did SOMETHING. Which is more than can be said for most filmmakers in LA. You see, it’s the doing. The line between filmmaker and film critic is very thin out here. In fact, I’d say the only difference is that a film critic is essentially a filmmaker without faith.

But I’m a little fed up, if you can’t tell. I’m terrified about making this short (as you may well be about yours), but I’d much rather have something to show for my years of intellectualizing. By December, I’ll have something. It may be a pile of crap. I could fail. Or I could be the new “voice of our generation” (with the right publicist). Either way, SOMETHING will be done, insurance or no insurance. Legally or not.

And afterall, it’s the doing that makes the difference.

-Sam Jaeger

Amid a flurry of aggravating auditions this week, I finished the storyboards for my upcoming shoot and wanted you all to take a gander. I say “aggravating” only because there’s nothing at all spectacular about the daily life of a “working” actor, particularly the process of landing a “gig”. I go to auditions to sit next to the same guys I’ve sat next to in the waiting room for seven years now, waiting to audition for the co-writers of Yes Dear! Or King of Queens! Or some other lackluster show written by lackluster talent. I don’t mean to bad mouth (note: I do), but I feel that if THIS is the cream of the crop, the greatest comedic writers this country has to offer, I’m moving to Paraguay. I know I’ve made this claim before, but this time I mean it! (note: I don’t)

But I digress. What I’m trying to say here is that, once again, I am tired of reading and studying and performing work that I know WE can do better. That my one-eyed cat can do better (note: this is not a sexual reference. The writer actually does own a cat with one eye). I can’t tell you specifically HOW the writers of Yes Dear got to where they are (note: I do. They slept with Les Moonves), but I do know that if there’s room for them there is certainly room for us. And with that, here are a few drawings from my upcoming shoot. Talk at you all soon!

With love and affliction,
Sam

(note: The writer wishes to apologize for the overuse of notes in this piece.)

(note: “this piece” is yet another phrase not intended as a sexual reference. Although, the author does admit to getting a good snicker out of the seemingly perverse term “one-eyed cat” [see note above])

THE TURNING POINT

Last week I set out a plan to take over the world. Cleverly disguised as an invitation to filmmakers to shoot a short film by the end of this month, this call to arms will be seen in the coming years as THE BEGINNING OF THE END!!!!!!!! Or, quite possibly, THE END OF THE BEGINNING!! Or, if historians mishandle the facts, THE MIDDLE OF THE MIDDLE. But I surmise that THIS, October 6th in the year of our lord 2006, is a turning point for us all!!!*

*(“us all” being myself and the two people reading this)

TO THIEF A CATCH
Still struggling for a topic for your short? Relying on the old adage that “all good ideas are taken?” Amen, I say. My advice in this situation is quite simple: steal. Steal like the dickens. There’s no room for shame in the movie business “not after “Anaconda”. Do you know how many “Casablanca” rip-offs were made after that film struck gold? Now obviously, you don’t want your film to stink of unoriginality. So be SPECIFIC about your thieving. Make it a challenge. See if you can steal a single line from each of your twenty favorite films and make a story based on those lines. Try avoiding the obvious ones, like “We are now the knights who say: Icky Icky Icky Sublang Whupsunofverch…” But steal a couple of gems, a couple of random quips, and you’re on your way.

BORED? STORYBOARD!
Today I’m putting the finishing touches on my storyboards. This, in my opinion, is the most helpful preproduction you can possibly do. I can’t tell you the amount of times I’ve been brought to the set of a film only to stand around as the director and cinematographer wander around looking for the perfect shot. Time wasted. Just the act of sitting down to conceptualize how your story is going to look will shift your thinking. You’ll etch a dialogue between two people and immediately know whether it looks right. If it doesn’t, go back to any film you love and study where the cinematographer puts the faces on the screen. Next week, I’ll post a sequence of these shots for y’all. If you’re doubting your directorial expertise, I guarantee storyboarding will get you over that hump.

HAVE YOU CALLED YOUR MOTHER LATELY?
To make this film on the cheap, you’ve got to aim high and buy LOW. It’d be great to have a fully paid union crew, but we all know that ain’t gonna’ happen. And it’s okay. Darren Aronofsky’s mother worked catering for his first film, “Pi”. Does the film LOOK like it was shot by a misfed crew? Not so much. So grab as many people who love you or owe you money, and ask them to take some time out of their upcoming weekend(s). And remember, you may lose friends by overworking them, but your mother will always be your mother no matter how much she wants out of it.

REFORMAT YOUR HARD DRIVE
Right now is the perfect time to take advantage of new media formats, as well as old. Places like Pro8 (find it on the web at www.pro8mm.com) here in LA offer their own quality 8mm film stock. If you’ve got an old Super 8 camera, you’re halfway there. It costs around $35 to buy and process a role of Super 8 film. Granted, a role is only 3 minutes long, but if you maximize your shoot, you can get everything you need in the can for under $150. Or shoot with the old Fisher Price PXL200. Or take a thousand shots with your cell phone camera. Whatever format you shoot in, just make sure it doesn’t look like you hired your sister to do the lighting (which, most likely, you did).

SHOOT THE SHORT, AVOID “THE SHLONG”
We shot a great film three years ago called “Advantage Hart” (see it on www.ifilm.com) starring Kate Bosworth. What was a mystery to us was why festivals weren’t gobbling it up. And then we realized: festivals didn’t know what to do with a 34 minute short film. It’s a little long. A few more scenes and we had ourselves a feature (which would have been better for the film, to be honest). In the end, we got into two festivals and the film has been nothing but a burden to its creators. So please, make it short and sweet. Save the big monologues and the epic storylines for your big epic. In the meantime, give people the best damn five minutes you can. You’ll be surprised how much more willing people are to watch a flick that’s five minutes long than one that’s thirty-five minutes.

RAPE THE LAND
October is easily the most visually stunning month of the year: bright leaves, warm sunsets. It’s hard NOT to capture some real beauty. If you’ve got a scene outdoors, don’t set it on a street corner, set it on a hillside. Underneath a red maple tree. Use that soft, forgiving autumn sunlight to light your actors. I’m fortunate enough that 90% of my story happens on a farm and in the woods. The production value is free. All I’ve got to do is capture what’s already being provided.

DEADLINES
By this time next week, I will have secured my major locations, my cast, and my crew. The script is done as of today, and the storyboards as well. Make a checklist for yourself, and see if you can catch up with me. Take time out of your work day; trust me, your boss won’t mind. Everybody likes movies. Offer him/her a part. He’ll blush, he’ll get excited, he’ll get behind you 100 percent.

And THAT’S when you ask for the raise.

Hell, if it’s gonna’ happen, it might as well happen now.

NEXT WEEK: SHOOT FIRST, ASK QUESTIONS LATER.

-Sam Jaeger

CLEARLY THERE’S SOMETHING WRONG WITH ME
I know, it’s been a few weeks since I last posted, but I assure you all it’s for good reason: I was procrastinating. True, I did fly back to Ohio, then to New Hampshire for a wedding, but the bottom line is I am a sultan of procrastination. I wrote an essay on procrastination that got me an invite to the Library of Congress in D.C.. No, really. My thesis was: DON’T PROCRASTINATE BECAUSE PEOPLE WILL THINK YOU’RE PUTTING THINGS OFF. It was compelling, if I do say so myself.

So what exactly would drive me to slack off so? I think I felt a little bit like I was letting you all down if I didn’t have something enthralling to say. It holds with my rules for this blog, one of the biggest being “I PROMISE NOT TO WRITE ABOUT WIPING MY ASS”. In other words, I don’t want to bore you with the day-to-day. I realize that the day-to-day is EXACTLY what a blog is a record of, but that point had been lost on me the last couple of weeks. Nevertheless, the black sheep has returned with a newfound purpose: TO CREATE.

NO, NOT LIKE GOD. LIKE KIRK CAMERON.
This site was intended to be an intimate discourse on film. While I don’t think it’s a failure in that department, I think we’ve strayed from one of the key objectives of me writing this and you reading this: TO MOTIVATE US. Si? So here’s what I propose: let’s make October THE MONTH WHERE IT ALL HAPPENS. If you’ve been sitting on an idea for a while, this is the month when you get it done. Brush the dust off that script! Call your buds! Set a date! I’ll do the same. Because until “Take Me Home” finds its funding once again, I’d rather have something to show for the year in waiting. Enough blogging! It’s time we made a film! If Kirk Cameron can do it (and oh man, can he!), then so can we. So let’s get to it!

SO EXACTLY WHAT HAPPENS IN “THE MONTH WHERE IT ALL HAPPENS”?
That depends on you. I am finally shooting that short film I wrote you all about back in Ohio. Now, because of actor scheduling, that won’t happen until October 30th. Which leads me to a bit of advice: give yourself as much prep time as possible. Yes, it’s a blast getting together with the gang and seeing what you can whip up, but keep in mind you’ve got a whole month (I’m discluding editing time. Just shooting something in one month is a huge task). But take the month to get it right: storyboard the whole film, study like-minded films, study how they’re lighting their actors, try replicating their style, find a good camera for a good price (to rent or buy), get your crew, get your cast, get your ass movin’! I am a firm believer in the notion that films are only as good as their pre-production.

Meanwhile, I’m going to figure out a place where we can post our shorts to share with each other. In the meantime, here are a few storyboards from my short, “Untold”. By this time next week, let’s have our shorts fully formulated and as taught as Joan Rivers face. Pass it out to a few folks you trust. Listen to their feedback, weigh it, and make any adjustments. But when Friday comes, you’ve got a rock-steady shooting script. I’m shooting for the same deadline. And we’ll take it from there. OCTOBER WON’T KNOW WHAT HIT HER!!

(Author’s note: The author would like to clarify that his last statement was in no way, shape, or form a promotion of physical violence. He would like to point out that “October” is actually a month of the year and not a former girlfriend. The author has a deep respect for all women, even the ones who set out to ruin his life like his fiancee and his mother. He thanks you in advance for your understanding on this matter.)

-Sam Jaeger