Broken Promise
Long ago I promised myself I would never shoot a rape scene.
Now I'm making a movie which concerns, partially, a rapist and murder, and at one point we see into his mind and are treated to a flood of incredibly fast images of the many crimes he has committed. So over the last couple of days we have been grabbing, alongside our main scenes, shots of a woman screaming as she is dragged down a gloomy flight of stairs, a woman having her head bashed against exposed framing in a construction site, a woman clawing at the gravel in an alleyway, a woman sobbing into her pillow as hands close around her neck, a knife tearing through the cloth of a woman's jeans. The movie isn't exploitive. Honest. And these are very fast pieces. But still. What happened to my allegiance to Gandhi's command to be the change you want to see in the world?
Meanwhile on the set, Le Star and La Starlet have decided that it's FUNTIME! and several takes were wrecked today by uncontrollable fits of giggles, sometimes--and worst of all--while they were off camera and other actors were on. Then La Startlet suddenly explodes at the crew that she is fucking working herself into tears seven times today and fucking going out on this huge emotional limb and how is she supposed to do that when people are fucking talking to her yatta yatta yatta before every take! When asked later who the offending parties are, so that their heads could be chopped off and shipped to Argentina to be sold as cattle food, she declined to name names--not suprisingly because there really weren't any names to name, just the crew going about its business around her. Recently I suggested to Barista Brat that she might actually, if she does it simply and calmly enough, tell her annoying customers what she really wants to say to them. Ha! Do you know what would happen to me if I told a tantrumizing actor what I really wanted to say them? If I said, simply and calmly, "Well I don't know, I'm paying you FOUR HUNDRED FUCKING THOUSAND DOLLARS FOR NINETEEN DAYS WORK, do you think maybe you could suck it up FOR ONE FUCKING SECOND!?"
Now I'm making a movie which concerns, partially, a rapist and murder, and at one point we see into his mind and are treated to a flood of incredibly fast images of the many crimes he has committed. So over the last couple of days we have been grabbing, alongside our main scenes, shots of a woman screaming as she is dragged down a gloomy flight of stairs, a woman having her head bashed against exposed framing in a construction site, a woman clawing at the gravel in an alleyway, a woman sobbing into her pillow as hands close around her neck, a knife tearing through the cloth of a woman's jeans. The movie isn't exploitive. Honest. And these are very fast pieces. But still. What happened to my allegiance to Gandhi's command to be the change you want to see in the world?
Meanwhile on the set, Le Star and La Starlet have decided that it's FUNTIME! and several takes were wrecked today by uncontrollable fits of giggles, sometimes--and worst of all--while they were off camera and other actors were on. Then La Startlet suddenly explodes at the crew that she is fucking working herself into tears seven times today and fucking going out on this huge emotional limb and how is she supposed to do that when people are fucking talking to her yatta yatta yatta before every take! When asked later who the offending parties are, so that their heads could be chopped off and shipped to Argentina to be sold as cattle food, she declined to name names--not suprisingly because there really weren't any names to name, just the crew going about its business around her. Recently I suggested to Barista Brat that she might actually, if she does it simply and calmly enough, tell her annoying customers what she really wants to say to them. Ha! Do you know what would happen to me if I told a tantrumizing actor what I really wanted to say them? If I said, simply and calmly, "Well I don't know, I'm paying you FOUR HUNDRED FUCKING THOUSAND DOLLARS FOR NINETEEN DAYS WORK, do you think maybe you could suck it up FOR ONE FUCKING SECOND!?"
posted by Tom at 8:10 PM
4 Comments:
That's sort of an amusing story. Heart wrenching...amusing...not sure. Sounds like a "circus", where things happen chaotically out of nowhere.
About Capote, in your film the only red sprayed from the killing onto the dress the victim's attorney. I think my complaint about Capote is different. Does your attorney mirror the killer the way Capote mirrors Perry (I think that was the killer's name)? I mean, from what I hear about your movie, your route sounds effective. I just felt that the red ON Truman ("We grew up in the same house. He went out the back door, and I went out the front.") left a void. I mean his red is might be his alcoholism, and the information in our minds that he died of its complications, but...I dunno. Don't think, however, that I'm just bashing a movie that you call a masterpiece (and thanks for the "you have a good eye" compliment). I wouldn't complain about movie that wasn't worth it. Clearly, its makers knew what they were doing.
And I like that you're concerned with having the balls to "be the change you want to see." I like being around people like that.
Jason
Four HUNDRED THOUSAND DOLLARS? Nooooooo way.
Where do ya sign up to do that for a living? Why am I sticking tubes into people for pennies?
Whoa. That's unbelievable to me, honestly I can't comprehend that.
I agree with Anna..and I applaud your patience..
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