The End Of Her Rope

Today started yesterday, actually. I talked to Gonzo on the phone, and he said that he wanted to register his discomfort with the initial thrust of my project, The End Of Her Rope. He felt that the less-than-hidden intention of it -- that I wouldn't mind throttling a fellow classmate -- while a widely shared sentiment, might cause controversy if expressed openly.

After talking to him on the phone, I decided he was right. I'd probably had that sneaking suspicion all along, but I was happy that I'd taken that type of criticism so well.

So I rewrote the script last night. Not entirely, of course, but probably half the script was new. I changed the lead character somewhat and completely rewrote the Bernice character. I don't think one of her original lines stayed. I used the "Revisions" mode on Final Draft and there are asterisks every place now.

Last night Darin wanted to go out to a movie, but I said no. I can't seem to have a good time when I have a pressing engagement. "Tomorrow night though," I said.

Today I got up early, started preparing for today's shoot. Mostly this meant doing storyboards for The End Of Her Rope. One of the main things I wanted to do was make up for some of the mistakes and omissions of my last project, such as close-ups, more angles, more variety of shots. And I was incredibly glad that Gonzo agreed to DP, because he's done a lot of camerawork and I wanted more expertise behind the camera.

Something always happens though, and today it was that not one but two of the three characters in the piece had to leave by a certain time. For one actress, it was 2; for the actor, it was 3.

Set up, shoot. Did we get it? Did we get it?

Gonzo: "The camera tingled."

Hey, good enough. Next set up, shoot it, let's move on.

No time for weird setups, no time for the strange dollying closeups I had in mind. We barely finished by 2 for her and 3 for him. I was glad the lead actress, with whom we wanted to do some closeups, could hang around for a bit.

I learned that I'm still overwriting dialogue and that I'm not inserting enough action for the actors. This is a visual medium, dammit. Must keep that in mind at all times.

At the end of the shoot, when Gonzo and I were packing up the equipment, I asked him what he thought of the new script. He liked it better, thought it made more sense now -- it wasn't relying on in-jokes to explain why the main character goes beserk and kills someone else.

Of course, perhaps he was just being nice: I mentioned that we were tossing out a whole bunch of stuff to Goodwill and he said, "Really? Can I have some?" He has no pots, plates, glasses, because he's here on a partial scholarship from Portugal and has no money. He left with a box full of stuff, a toaster oven, and a couple of bottles of alcohol.

Actually, that's mean: Gonzo is a really nice guy. Intelligent, fun, and good-looking, girls.

Tonight we went to see Grosse Point Blank, which I enjoyed more than Darin did. We both agreed it was wildly uneven: what's the bit with the drunk at the reunion? the wrestlers? the baby? what's with Joan Cusack's monologue? Despite all that, I enjoyed it and thought John Cusack was great as a babyfaced, nice-guy hit man, but then, I might just have been in a regular-guy-becomes-killing-machine kind of mood. Darin thought that the hit man's redemption should have come at the end of the movie, rather than at the beginning, which, you know, makes sense.

Tomorrow: Brunchkin avec Bunchkin (what are we going to do with all the extra glassware and sharp objects we have laying around? eeek!) and then I have to do work. I'm also suppposed to set up John Copeland's ISDN line at his house, but I would prefer to have Darin around to consult on that, and he has another afternoon get-together planned. So maybe I'll just stay home and write.

I wonder what this thing I have about death is in the stories I film for class. The first production class I ever took, the final project was about a cursed Ouija board that brought its own ghost along with. The final project for the De Anza directing class, about a woman who murders all her boyfriends. The final project last semester, about a woman who's trying to exorcise the ghost of her dead husband. Now this one.

My sneaking suspicion is that it's because I've never had to deal with death. I've never known anyone who died, I haven't had a close relative die. And death is very easy in movies: bang, fall down, try to hold your breath for a time.

Sex is a little harder for me as a theme. I don't like watching people have sex in movies: for one thing, generally too much time is given over to pointless, completely unbelievable sex that focuses on the woman's naked body but somehow never manages to show the man's.

I don't mind romance and love though. How's that for a "typical female sentiment"? I should try to write a believable romance that sets the camera tingling. Unfortunately, I'll have to use my imagination: all the romances I've been involved in were either with guys who didn't treat me right, or with Mr. Wonderful, with whom nothing has ever gone wrong (so the story of my own personal romance would make a lousy romantic comedy). Sigh. What's a girl to do?