I haven't posted since Monday as I've been physically unable to do so thanks in no small part to the rigors and idiocy of my chosen profession. Yes, a music video ate my baby! I prepped at Camera House on Monday, two cameras and a bunch of lenses, including my soon to be nemesis, the Angenioux Optimo 12:1. It's as big and heavy as a howitzer round but a thousand times prettier and when you have to physically move it between two camera crews spread out along the Venice boardwalk it defies the laws of physics and becomes twice as heavy. Weird. I also prepped an underwater housing for one of the cameras. That was actually fun as I hadn't used one in awhile so it was a walk down memory lane for this old man as I started remembering how to use the thing by remembering a bunch of jobs from days of old. It dawned on me that aside from just being rad, I've been a camera assistant longer than I've been doing anything else. I'm still on the fence as to whether or not this is a good thing. You know, I'm a responsible-ish adult now with a career and a future and
blah blah blah. I'm boring myself right now. Back to the job: prep takes forever, V2.0 and Fab show up and we all have some yucks and Fab says she knows how to use the underwater housing and I know she's... fibbing. I'd say lying but it sounds mean spirited. Anyway, it was one of the first clues I had that this job was going to be a ball buster.
Call time: 1:30pm Venice Beach. What to do with the morning? Surf was flat so an hour of yoga it was. Then I went grocery shopping at Trader Joe's. Oh what a treat? Ghost and I walked for a bit and we shot some arrows or rather, I shot some arrows while Ghost chilled. Off to work!
The details of it all are pointless but here are some highlights and lowlifes:
Kelly Rowland is hot. I mean, super-nova hot. I'll put it this way, Jay-Z done fucked up. She was sweet, professional, and into her performances and handled the catcalls and assorted buffoonery of her fans very well. I might call her if this Melah thing doesn't work out.
Two units, one set of lenses, one lazy 2nd. That is how you make my blood boil and my muscles hurt.
Late night in Venice is actually kind of nice. The out of town losers and the local lunatics pretty much clear out as soon as the sun goes down. All that's left are drunks and serial killers.
If nothing else, when shooting at the beach please do everyone a favor and rent Gators to haul gear around. While I love nothing more than a long walk on the beach at dusk I prefer doing it without the 65lbs case on my shoulders.
Hydroflex housings are expensive to rent. Renting them for one shot done in the dying moments of the day is usually dumb. This was no exception. I did like the fact that the director liked the way my ass looks in a wetsuit. I also liked that everyone carted Kelly and her entourage off in a truck while leaving the gear on the beach. This allowed my to go play in the surf while at work. Joy.
Wrap time: 1:30am. Just in time for a shot and a beer at the local tavern. Lights out!
The next day was spent lying on the couch and in bed crying from the combination of still pinched C8 nerve group and muscle fatigue from running around like a lunatic. Also, I'm apparently very old now. I did by some new arrows and a deer sized paper target with vitals marked on it. The photo shows an arrow grouping shot from 60 yards. There's one in the heart, which is nice, but the rest are kinda ugly. Look out Bambi, if you stay still for four arrows one might kill you. Hey, it was my first time shooting from that far!
Anywhy, it's Thursday and I need to walk Ghost and eat some form of food and then go prep for a short we're doing out by Joshua Tree. V2.0 is coming with and we'll probably regret doing this but so it goes. My friend is shooting it and he needs help. He's good, he just keeps making odd choices that don't exactly get him further along in his career. Whatever, I'll help him and maybe it'll be fun. Harry Dean Stanton is in it and I think I'm going to bring my cowboy hat and try to get a photo of me 'n Harry. Repo Man forever! Melah might come out and visit and I might stay an extra night so as to go hiking and maybe shoot some skeet. We'll see.
Peace out, bitches!