Today, well yesterday now, was not a very good day.
I woke up nice and early after sleeping through the night for the first time since leaving LA. It was lovely. I had breakfast, stretched a bit, and took a cab to the Swedish Film Institute, which is where the Swedish rental house we're abusing, I mean using, is located. Lovely building, eastern edge of Stockholm, very moderne and cool looking. I got in with all my luggage and expected to find Bjorn in the midst of all of the new to him Panavision gear. What I found was that our delivery was late and we would have to busy ourselves with busy work: making labels for gear, organizing our truck, building carts, and some arts and crafts with fluorescent colored tape. All fun and games for two hours and then we started worrying. Where is the gear? Forty-five minutes away. An hour later, where is the gear? Forty-five minutes away. This went on for six fucking hours.
There is no more boring place than a film set if you're not busy except a prep house.
When we finally got out gear we ran through it as fast as possible and then loaded everything onto our camera truck. Apparently we have the best truck in Sweden. It sucks. It's a good sized box mounted on a lawnmower and it is dangerously overloaded and underpowered and threatens to tip over while at stop lights. If it makes it through this job I will be very surprised.
Best addition to camera truck: 5 million pound ramp with a crappy transition that the DP had his grip make. I'd like to find that sonofabitch and kick him in the balls. This is one of the worst ramps I've ever had the displeasure of wedging into a camera truck. Ever!
Kahnnnnn!
After driving in the Death Box, as we've affectionately named it, all damn night we arrived in Trollhattan. Which is to say, we took off hours late and drove from LA to SF along the coast and showed up well after everyone else had gone to bed. We did get a note with our keys saying that because of insurance reasons we had to unload the truck. By hand. One case at a time as the elevator is too small for carts.
This shall not stand.
It took us an hour. We're not doing it again. Hire a guy to watch the truck. Cover it in cow shit. Put land mines around it. Block it in with other trucks. Or, alternately, unload it your damn selves!
It's 4am. I'm going to try to Skype my lady and tell her I love her and then I'm done. Out. Gone.
I may finally quit a show in the middle of it. It'll be a first but...
Peace out, bitches!
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1 comment:
I tried to post on your blog earlier. It didn't take for some reason. So here it is again.
I feel your pain. I've had a lot of experience with dysfunctional clients who seem to think they can spend as little as possible on the budget items, that if they fail, the whole project comes to a screeching halt. I'm facing this now with ExxonMobil in Chad. They seem to think the can cut corners on civil works. Every time they do, it comes back and bites them in the ass. They currently think they can cut the budget for roads - not possible. They are going to pay twice in the long run - starting with us because now they've delayed the road work and we won't be able to get the major portion in before the rainy season. This means their vehicles won't get through, they'll lose money, and the World Bank will be on their ass for non-compliance with environmental measures.
Assholes, that's all I can say.
You seem to be in the same type of hell. All I can tell you is that when you're working for a dysfunctional egocentric client is to keep your head down, let them take their lumps and instead of saying "I told you so", sit back and collect the extra money they have to spend to make it right.
Now the problem with dysfunctional mentalities is that they tend to try to blame the sub-contractors for the loss. The reality is that when they realize you where right all along, they shut the fuck up, ante up the money, and hope you can make them look good under adverse conditions. Most of them never apologize, but they know they need you to finish the project.
No need to quit. All you need to do is do your job, collect the money, put their name in your book and strike a line through it!
Hope it gets better for you over the next few days. Oh yeah, I agree with you, no more humping equipment up stairs. Fuck that! Hire some Swedish gnomes to guard the equipment. Good luck.
Pops
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