THURSDAY, MINUS 4 DAYS

We start shooting in four days and we still don’t have a leading lady. One actress strung us along and then claimed to be unable to do it even though she said it was the best script that she’d read in a long time. She says that it’s because she’s got a project in Montreal that she’d have to be coming back and forth from, but wouldn’t she be coming back and forth anyway? Then she says that she’s got a movie of the week for CBS where they are "Giving her some power," meaning she gets to sit in the casting sessions and submit notes on the script. Well, I mean I should hope so! But for god’s sake it's a movie of the week! The bottom line to me is if you get offered a great part in a terrific script, a script for a feature, then you should do it! Instead of letting the circumstances of the not so great projects that you are already committed to prevent you from doing it. So, what? People are going to see her on CBS in a TV Movie and the first thing they are going to say is, "Huh, she's doing TV now." If she doesn’t have a feature out there to counter that perception then all of a sudden perception becomes reality.

FRIDAY, MINUS 3 DAYS

So it’s Stepfanie Kramer! The whole time we were looking, Stepfanie’s people were knocking on the door saying, "She’s very excited about this. She wants to do it." So Stepfanie is now our Helen. And actually she’s going to be great. She wants to be here. She’s gung-ho. She knows it’s down and dirty and she is okay with that.

SATURDAY, MINUS 2 DAYS

We’ve reached hysteria amongst the producers and crew. Stanton Kaye is veering wildly from one mood to the next. Vera keeps saying, "I don’t know how we’re going to do this now." But the fact is we start rolling on Monday morning and I’m so damn excited I can hardly stand it.

TUESDAY, DAY 2

It has begun. First day yesterday was a success. We only fell a tiny bit behind. The crew is excellent so far. Dean Lent is our D.P., tall, sandy hair, pale, steady eyes and a slightly surprised expression. He and Paul don’t waste words working. They seem to agree almost without talking and the result is a sly, economical series of shots and angles, slightly off from the norm, tongue in cheek but not elbowing the audience in the ribs like all these fucking style merchants who think they’re doing something that’s never been done before. Watch John Frankenheimer’s work, watch Robert Downey, Sr. It’s all there.

WEDNESDAY, DAY 3

I am at the office having left the set a couple of hours ago. It is Stepfanie Kramer’s first day of shooting. She and Will Stewart will make or break this movie and what I saw in rehearsal this morning made me a little nervous. There was not a whole lot going on between them. He appears goofy and she appears competent. But it’s all about what the camera gets and they might be saving it, but I am worried. The whole day is long dialogue scenes between them. It is material that will lie there like so much meatloaf if there isn’t a genuine spark of sex and danger between Stepfanie and Will. Can Paul give them suggestions? Can he raise the stakes enough? She is likely to rely on years of TV experience to get the scene in the can without messing up her makeup. And Will is like a good acting student; open and very game, but I don’t think he’s fierce enough yet. He seems content with what he’s doing and contentment is not what this character is about. I am suddenly anxious to get back to the set and see what’s going on.

THURSDAY, DAY 4

Vera and Paul saw dailies yesterday and were very pleased although according to Vera, Paul is shooting "like David fucking Lean!", meaning he’s using too much film. Hell, as long as we don’t get behind let’s shoot as much film as we can.

FRIDAY, DAY 5

Yesterday I was sick all day. I ached all over and had the shits and was so weak I couldn’t do anything, but today I feel good and am eager to get back onto the set. Anyway Vera described a tracking shot that they pulled off last night of Mones and the dog asleep on the couch and then around to Jerry and then the old guys which sounded so cool that it gave me goosebumps and brought tears to my eyes. I don’t think Paul’s vision has ever gotten blurry with this project. He saw it as a do-able enterprise if kept simple. Nevertheless the story has everything a good movie has to have; character, suspense, poignancy, big laughs, and it takes place in a world of it’s own which although ‘real’ enough, is the product of a keen and compassionate imagination. The thing this film will have which makes it different is empathy. Not sympathy, or pity, and certainly not the common cynicism that infects so many films about people who for one reason or another are living on life’s margins. Paul just looked around at his own world and applied his very lively imagination to it.

TUESDAY, DAY 8

It’s weird to me how easily people can lose sight of the goal. We’re making a movie. That’s what we’re doing here. We’re not producing good neighborliness, or a happy crew, or a well thought of production staff, all of which would be very nice and are worth making an effort for, but ultimately they don’t matter at all compared to the goal of making a movie as well as it can possibly be made. Honestly peoples feelings only matter to me in as much as they might effect the movie. Jacob, our first AD is arrogant, brusque, impatient and condescending. He’s also doing a great job. I will protect him and nurture him and support him because his feelings are not getting in the way of his work. End of discussion. Feelings are a luxury that only a very few people on a movie are entitled to. That’s why it’s important to make everyone feel acknowledged and valued so that their other feelings, the feelings that they really want to pull out and wave around, will remain tucked away.

THURSDAY, DAY 10

I am sitting on the set, a house in the low hills above Franklin. In the other room the cameras are rolling. We have made it through the diciest part of the shoot. Over the hump, over halfway. There are personality clashes and money crises and bonehead mistakes by exhausted people--a PA drove the camera truck into a security gate on location and crunched it so badly it looked like rubble after a firefight--but somehow the cameras keep rolling and the performances, especially from John Randolph and Will, are delightful and surprising and very cool. My worry now is that we are really out of money. According to Jessica we will have just under seven hundred dollars in our account on Monday morning. But I realized today that I would do just about anything to get this film finished.

FRIDAY, DAY 11

So there was a crisis with film, or a potential crisis, where we were waiting for more mags and the urgency was deepened by the fact that we were shooting one of the most delicate and heartbreaking scenes in the movie, the one where Mones shoots up Ike. That scene must be right or we have a problem. The two of them must be so connected to each other that a scene about shooting heroin becomes a scene about love, and mercy, and the easing of an old man’s pain. I sat in the room for one take and it was so moving that I had to get out. John Randolph did a thing I have only heard of one other time which was that he acted something so real that I thought it was really happening to him. He did a thing where he went to be sick off the side of the bed and I thought that he really was sick. It was amazing.

SATURDAY, DAY 12

Last night we shot the two poker playing scenes with all the guys. Having spent most of the day upstairs in a sweltering room shooting Ike’s death scene we found ourselves in the cool of the evening shooting a couple of tracking shots of a bunch of oddball guys of various ages and colors playing cards and talking smack the way only guys in groups can. It was so much fun. Half the crew was in Halloween costumes. Glittering lips and fantastic wigs. Our second second was in drag, chest hair over a valentine bustier. It wasn’t necessary to quiet down all that much before each take since we were coming in on the middle of the game anyway, so the atmosphere was loose and alive and full of mirth. John Randolph puffing contentedly on a joint passed to him by Tony Todd as Alan Rich imitates a cardsharp and Will Stewart, all energy and darting eyes, follows the cards skimming across the green table. Paul is doing good work. He knows what he wants. He’s good with the actors. Although today he did a funny thing. Tony Todd and Will Stewart have a little scene when they are leaving Ike’s house where Mones complains to Jerry about lying to Ike. The first wide master was good so camera pushed in closer and they went again. That one was good too but Paul wanted one more to give him at least one option. They reset, called action, and the next two takes were not great. Now I’m looking at Paul with a hurry up expression. Stacy’s chewing her nails. The actors are a bit uncertain what he wants. So he steps in and talks to them for a minute. They chuckle and nod and here we go on to take four. After he called cut Paul had a look of disappointment on his face that was so transparent that the neighbors could have spotted it from their living room. Both Tony and Will are looking at him and he says, "It was fine, we got to move on." Well there was a problem with the camera so he was bailed out and got one more. The last take played better than all the rest and will probably end up in the movie. So much for all this bullshit about making Paul save film. I don’t know whether he reacted that way by design or if he was just responding honestly. Either way we got a better take out of it.

SUNDAY, THE DAY OF REST

Ha! That's a joke. Vera is meeting with Stanton as I write this. Thank goodness Jessica is with her. I sneaked a peek at Jessica’s notes for Stanton yesterday. Very succinct. Described the problems accurately and without whining. He will probably help us. I have to see more dailies though. In fact I wonder if there is any way I can look at them tonight. It might ease my mind to see that all is well with the film itself.

MONDAY, DAY 13

Paul has lost twenty pounds since pre-production started. Twenty pounds! He couldn’t have weighed more than 150 to begin with. Directing is the ultimate hotseat. I cannot imagine doing it unless I was completely surrounded by people I trust. He is and he’s still lost twenty pounds. Actually it would be a great way to lose weight. There’s an L.A. thought. Some power wife getting her husband to bankroll her directorial debut so that she can shed a few pounds. "Directing made me a size three again!"

TUESDAY, DAY 14

I am sitting opposite Jessica who is doing the numbers. We’re still in fairly desperate straits but so used to it that it feels normal. She sips a diet Coke and licks her lips as she pores over the spreadsheets. Her conclusion is always the same. We need more money. Without it we’re scraping the keel. Outside the shooting goes smoothly. Shots are completed. Even the shots this morning, which contained all three of the worst elements -- children, old people, and dogs -- went in the can without a hitch. We are blessed with an extremely gifted crew. I would be very happy to have these guys again without a single change. Paul’s shots are clever, clean, and economical without sacrificing style. I don’t know what a bigger budget might do to the guy but it couldn’t hurt.

WEDNESDAY, DAY 15

Empty hospital in Inglewood, America’s third world. The downtown has a dusty, ill-fitting look. Black and brown people aspiring wearily to the affluence so nearby. A man crosses the street by lifting his limp feet and flopping them back onto the pavement, laborious and slow. Inside the shooting goes maddeningly slowly. Everyone is tired. Earlier a man came onto our set from outside. He was hurt and seeking emergency care. We sent him away. There is a Hispanic family in this shot. Three adorable boys dressed so neatly that Pam had to give them slightly more soiled T-shirts and tone down the shine on their shoes. The youngest boy waited as long as he could and then began to wail. His mother was afraid to go to him between takes, not wanting to screw up. I told Jacob to let her go and then stepped in to comfort the boy after the last take. Incredible what people will put up with just because it’s a movie set. And even on this set I was dismayed by how little attention was being paid to the needs of the children. It’s five thirty now. I am going to go home to visit with my kids.

FRIDAY, DAY 17

This film is where I want to be and we wrap tomorrow. I feel sad because I have to return to my ‘normal’ life. Yesterday, the Westwood Inn location. Today back here on Hayworth. Tomorrow here in the backyard to do the bathroom stuff. Oh sad sad sad. I want to keep making this movie. I swung by a friend's this morning, having just heard from Vera that we didn’t have enough in the bank to make payroll and borrowed the rest of the cash from him, all in neat stacks of one hundred dollar bills. It was hidden in his bedroom for the past five years. The paper clips have rusted and marked the top and bottom bills. It looks like abandoned drug money. Once again we’ve been rescued.

SATURDAY, DAY 18

In the living room Annie, Alana, Anna, Elizabeth, all the major chicks on the crew are staccato giggling. In the next room, Vera and Paul’s bedroom, the grips and camera crew are setting up another shot. The floor thrums with heavy footsteps. Lorena, the sharp-tongued, sexy hair stylist wanders over and we have a sudden, frank conversation about modern dating and relationships. She, as suspected, is now a lesbian, having had ‘a lot’ of relationships with men. I told her that I only know the rules vicariously because I got married right out of school, but it seems that there is much fear and unrealistic expectations between people these days. I notice that Will Stewart, for the first time in my memory, is arguing with some energy about a direction that Paul has given him. He is questioning the logic of a particular move. Paul is very tired. He may be too wiped out to know what’s right. "Locked up. Nice and quiet please. Roll sound, and, this is me marking, and settling, and... Action." As Jacob, our A.D. calls the shot, the crew is very quiet. The work continues speedily, but we are hushed, anticipating the end. Last night at the Westwood Inn I was helping a PA named Dory load the camera truck. We pushed a cart full of folding chairs onto the tailgate. She took a step back and stumbled against two portable makeup mirrors. Suddenly she was falling. She landed on her hand and cried out. I could tell from her face that it hurt a lot. Her hand was limp and shaky. She tried to say it was no big deal but the swelling was instantaneous. She toughed it out and went home with an icepack but today the swelling and pain were still there so we sent her to a clinic and found out that it might be broken. She is wearing a brace, but she hasn’t stopped working. There isn’t a bad link left in this crew. A sudden burst of laughter, seems that someone put a gag turd in the prop toilet. The change in atmosphere from the beginning of the shoot until now is profound. Like a team at the end of a season, or a platoon at the end of boot camp, we are in sync. The drama of coming together and trying to find our place in the mechanism has been rubbed smooth. Today the shaky exhausted energy is driving everyone. Like a formula one car with fumes left in the tank we shoot forward through scenes and set-ups then stammer giggle and collapse into each other’s arms until it’s time for the next burst.

THE FINAL SHOT

John Randolph has arrived. The dictionary definition for garrulous should be a picture of him. He is having so much fun. His daughter told me that he has been offered a number of wonderful roles recently but the bond companies wouldn’t sign off on him because of his age. So along comes this project. A bunch of young yahoos with a script and no money offering him the best part he’s had in years. He is doted on by our naughty and cute glamour department, admired by his fellow actors, and listened to. I got caught in traffic with him on Halloween night. A delightful hour. He never stopped talking, free associating, his hands sculpting the air with gestures that reminded me of my father. His is the last shot we shoot in the film, appropriate I'd say. Then he sticks around with all the young turks, celebrating, drinking tequila shooters until the early hours of the morning, not quite ready, like the rest of us, for this to all be over.

RAIN

Finally it has arrived, having held off during our entire breakneck eighteen days, the rain is finally falling. At the Hayworth house the trucks accept the last of the returnable gear. Vera describes the morning after the crazy impromptu, cathartic rap party the night before to me, "So, I wake up and roll over to gaze lovingly at Paul, my man, the director, and I’m looking at Annie. My first thought was ‘Wait a minute, I wasn’t that drunk.’"

EPILOGUE

The best way to describe the making of an independent feature film: Push a car with a half-built engine to the top of a hill. At an agreed upon moment give the car a shove and jump inside. As the car is gathering speed, burrow under the hood and complete the building of the engine. The car will begin to slow down as it reaches the bottom and starts up the next hill so at that moment it is crucial that the engine be made to start. Keep the engine running for as long as it takes to get the car to the top of the next hill. By then the car will be overheating and out of alignment. Make the necessary repairs on the ensuing downhill run, if necessary lightening the load by pushing a few members of the team out the door and picking up a couple of hitchhikers. Once across the finish line, and after becoming either emotionally or sexually involved with at least two other members of the team, guide the exhausted, stitched together car into a dark place. Remain just outside assuring everyone that the car is a gleaming masterpiece of engineering and that the ride was wonderful. Get the emotional/sexual entanglements over with as quickly as possible and start looking around for another half-built car.