Also, if you're in San Diego on Thursday evening, try to make the alt.pictureshows event at the Museum of Contemporary Art San Diego. It's a lot of fun.
I sent a draft to a few trusted colleagues/friends and their impressions and suggestions enabled me to cut down the film to an acceptable (to me) running time of 7:21:20. And that’s including credits. I counted 209 cuts and that's the title I'm sticking to. All there is left to do is a few minor sound and title sequence adjustments and the film is good to go. That is, if I can figure out Toast.
I’ve always been envious that my Tijuana filmmaker buddies are able to tackle all aspects of post-production on their own. In the past I’ve had editors, sound designers and mixers and others to do the title sequences. This time, it was all me. I won’t say that I created wonders, but I’m happy with the results and I feel I’ve grown tremendously as a filmmaker. I won’t lie. More than a couple of times I was able to do something by accident. Mostly, it was by trial and error but without much struggle, which was very surprising. Very surprising. Just like when a baby is learning to walk, decides to go for it fully expecting to fall and then is shocked when he doesn’t.
Every step I’ve taken forward started out paranoid and lacking in confidence. That’s why I can’t believe that I conceived a film (that doesn’t suck) and finished it in five weeks. This proves that you have to make up your mind to do something and then have a set deadline. I’ve learned a lesson and I hope it sticks. However, I think I will stay neurotic, paranoid and expect the worst because, after all, this is no budget filmmaking. That way, I'll always be pleasantly surprised.
Yesterday I spent 14 hours editing, on my ass, and I wouldn’t have stopped if it hadn’t been for the two times I had to pee and the other two I had to play with my dog who was miserable to be stuck indoors the whole day. I didn’t eat because I didn’t get hungry. That’s the way it is when you’re doing something you love. When you’re having a total blast.
How does a 4-page script turn into an 8-minute film (without credits)? You give it to me to shoot and edit. Now the real stressful work begins. I have to figure out what’s best for the film and to recognize where I’m being self-indulgent. I know I’ll have to kill quite a few babies to get the screen time down. Five years ago this wouldn’t have been an issue. I was more than okay with being idiosyncratic and I have the 17-minute film to prove it. I don’t have an editor next to me quoting Walter Murch every five minutes, trying to convince me why a sequence must die. This time is just me against me. Lordy.
For once, I really feel like da bomb and believe it’s true. I’ve surprised myself and right now I don’t know what to do with the emotions that come with it. I guess I’ll just go with it.
I’ll revel in my personal accomplishments, including conquering several paralyzing fears, until I have to do the titles on PhotoShop and my confidence is again shut down. Fuck you PhotoShop!
This is the part where I usually have very funny anecdotes about everything that went wrong. I suppose if you’re paranoid and expect the worst then you are pleasantly surprised when nothing goes wrong. Well, nothing did and I’m beyond pleasantly surprised; I’m flabbergasted. Things seem to have worked out beautifully ever since I conceived this story while running my ass off trying to get over my painful break up five weeks ago. Had I not been treated like trash, I would have never made this film. Wait, so am I saying that I’m glad I got dumped so that I could think of this story and make THIS film? Yes, I think I am. I am. That’s how crazy filmmakers are.
I’m reminded of this scene:
This film is me through and through; it represents my point of view.While we were shooting I told my crew that if you don’t laugh at all the shit that happens to you then you’re fucked. Does that mean I’m an optimist?I don’t know and don’t care. I’m just very thankful I get to do this instead of going to a shrink. Money better spent.
My Crew of Ruiz’s was a gift from the filmmaking gods.They did the work of 10 people, more or less, but more importantly, they got it and had fun.They made me cook them breakfast but I let that slide because I was in a generous mood and because of them I was free to focus on the creative aspects of directing and ordering lunch.
My DP (Giancarlo Ruiz), Ruiz 1, got what I wanted to do visually (maybe because we both have twisted senses of humor) and delivered it.How often does that happen?It was so easy to let go of my anal attachment to the camera because I trusted him.And I’m loving the results.
The sound dude, Ruiz 2, was a close friend/family who had never been on a film set before.He learned to operate the sound equipment right there and then and as far as I can tell, he got great sound.I never doubted him.The AC, Ruiz 3, was also new to a film set, worked her ass off and did a great job.
I was pretty nervous about working with a new actor.Sylvia (Panacione) was a joy to work with.She was willing to try anything and took direction very well. That’s the mark of a trained professional.She had great instincts and came up with some very funny improv on the spot.I told her she could try anything and if it wasn’t any good it wouldn’t be on the film.(I learned that from Lelia Goldoni). Yes, it’s true, 90% of directing is casting.
It’s the trust that John Cassavetes and his people talked about.It’s about who’s around you helping you make your vision a reality.When it works, it’s magical.
And then there was my Peeps.Pepa. Pepita the untrained supporting canine.She would hit her marks perfectly, but mostly when the camera wasn’t rolling.She was happy to have a house full of people, but I think at some point she was too tired and just wanted to go to bed.She’s a method actor and it worked out perfectly.It was a huge risk to write her in, but it paid off.
My confidence wanes and I have to remind myself constantly I don’t want to let down those who helped and supported me in this endeavor. So yup.It’s really up to me to fuck it up or make it work.
“I’m making this film to exorcise a pain in my soul that just won’t go away, like oil stains. I wash my clothes with movies.”—Alex de la Iglesia
