Continuity is The New Hitler

It hasn't rained this much since the Holocaust.

Seriously, look it up.

Filming this week has been a challenge... it's moving forward, but it's been very challenging. A little juxtaposition as to the reasons, if you will.



For those of you who can't read, choose not to, or whose reading glasses are either too far away or mistakenly shoved into the toaster, I will break down the above image for you.

Pictured above is the weather forecast for this coming week - Tuesday the 29th until Sunday the 3rd. Looks nice, doesn't it? Shit, maybe we should film a movie this week?

But wait; filming started last week and... uh huh, yes, this week wasn't at all part of last week so, naturally, neither was the weather. Fine and dandy right? Weather's been okay lately, hasn't it?

No. No it hasn't.

Below is The Weather Network's forecast for last week, the week we've been filming during.


As you can see, things started out on a mostly shitty note, progressing through scattered tornados and a Class 3 Killstorm with chances of Apocalypse. Then, on Saturday, Jesus showed up during the second coming [which by the way is Hell on the eyes]. Finally, Sunday [coincidentally, I assure you] was Revelation - and shit, did it rain like a bitch. I guess He just wasn't happy with another sunny day for the big moment; had to go and ruin everyone elses shit in the process. Thanks God. Thanks a lot.

Either way, it's been a particularly stressful week.

It's been wet. It's been bleak. Kids are annoying. Residents are annoying. And above everything stands one issue greater than the sum of each of its counterparts - an issue that, each and every day, grabs my balls and won't let go until I'm screaming like an angel at premarital conception.

This issue... is continuity.

You know as a kid when you played with your parent's shitty video camera and made homemade movies that, by comparison, turned Canadian TV into fucking gold? Remember those days? Well remember how awe-struck you were by your shitty ability to create "magic" by turning the camera off, removing something from the frame, and then turning it back on again to make that object vanish? Of course you do.

1985 YOU: Holy shit, it disappeared!!

Now try, for a moment, to pull yourself back into the present day. Hard, wasn't it? You're making a film [this time aspiring to at least the level of Canadian television], and the absolute last thing that you want in this film is outdated 'magic' tricks worming their way into the production.

Well, let me tell you something: keeping them out, especially with child actors, is a magic act unto itself.

Without fail, every 30 seconds some prop is in some child's hand either acting as something to shake or something to throw, and always acting as distraction. Within the first 2o minutes of shooting on day 1, the "lemonade pitcher" had been spilled [all over a P.O.S. cardboard lemonade stand, by the way] no less than two times.

Spilled in its entirety.

After cleaning up, re-shooting, re-shooting, re-framing, re-shooting, and re-shooting, I realized that the pitcher of 'lemonade' and the lemons themselves were not yet supposed to be in the film.

CUT, scratch that.

I'd wipe my ass with the film, but since it's strong enough to tow a car I don't want to find out what it'd do to my poor, poor sphincter.

Two more days of filming, but I'm pushing for a few more because of the rain. Continuity may be Hitler... but the rain is his Gestapo.

Hail Sun!!

The Night Before Filming

[ Ed. note: Ironically, on the heels of this post I found out that John, my camera man, got into a car accident roughly 6 (count'em, six) hours away from Woodstock. Because he could no longer get back to the Dairy Capital in good time, filming itself had to be pushed until Thursday... meaning, in actuality, that this post was not posted on the eve before shooting; in fact, it was three days back... Thursday, here I come! ]


'twas the night before filming when all through the crew
ran over-excitement and nerve-wrought, wet poo.

The children were nestled all snug in their beds
with visions of lemons bursting on their heads.

And John with his camera, and I with my script
slept anticipating, just ready to rip.

When up in my mind there arose such a clatter
"What if it won't work?!" and "Should this kid be fatter!?"

Then, what to my stupified eyes did appear?
Why, the ghost of Short Film; and her message? "Don't fear!"

She gave me the finger and then slapped me around,
then kicked me in the junk and I fell to the ground.

Then pointing and staring at/into my face,
she offered some comfort, her words borne of grace.

"Don't be such a pussy!" she screamed way too loud
"You wrote and direct this, you should be real proud."

I blinked once or twice, with her words sinking in,
then sat up from the floor and I raised up my chin.

"You're right Short Film spirit," I said to the ghost
"and if it's that bad, I'll just fix it in post!"

She smiled and then nodded, then went to my desk,
then she picked up my script that lay amongst the rest.

"Wait, hold on one minute," she blurted out fast,
"The Lemonade Stand-Off? I thought you'd wrote Crash!"

Turns out #37, and NOT Outlining, is the Devil

This week I started the outlining phase of a new project of mine -- a project that I'm already 37 pages into. Typically, I don't outline; never have. High school essays? Fuck 'em. University essays? [censored]. Screenplays? Apparently I get stuck at page 37 without one.

The outline, as I've been told, is a great (and necessary) tool/evil in the screenwriting trade and, for fear of my eventual professional life, I have jumped like a nimble elk onto the band wagon.

Walking into Staples Thursday afternoon, I went straight to the corkboard - I needed a 4x3 board which by the way, once you're holding it, seems excessively big. I figure if this whole writing thing doesn't work out, I'll fasten wood legs to the corners and have myself one Hell of an absorbent dinner table.

Shit, maybe I'll get a second for that purpose alone, success or not.

That, however, is beside the point. I got me a great big cork board, 300 index/recipe cards, and a couple hundred push pins, and I'm on my way. I'm outlining.

I've made it to card 37.