A Civilian
One of the most charming aspects of being on location is when a bystander approaches the crew and asks, "are you guys making a movie?" or "what movie are you all shooting over here?". For some reason, no matter how large of a crew, this always seems to happen. I could be on something more professional or just out with my friends, with a crew of four or five people, armed with no more then a handycam and maybe a tripod if we're feeling fancy, but either way, somebody will stop and ask if we're making the next blockbuster. The coolest part is that you can tell them anything and they'll still be impressed. If a civilian, and by that I mean somebody who isn't involved at all with production, pops the question and expects the answer to be something they might actually get to see someday, they'll still express bewilderment once you tell them that you're only out shooting B-roll for your YouTube webseries that has a single-digit view count.
What I'm trying to say is, being a part of the crew or just having shared the experience of being involved in production is a lot like being in on some big secret. I might just be tired from day two of this Gettysburg shoot, but for some reason it reminds me of elementary school, when the big joke was to convince other kids to join the Pen Fifteen club by writing it on their own forehead with a sharpie (go ahead, give it a shot).
I guess that's a bit of a stretch. What I'm really getting at is that it's refreshing to be reminded of all the people who see media production as some inexplicable magic, or maybe even the work of voodoo, in some extreme cases. Of course, many of these people will probably get to experience such luxuries as job security and regular sleep schedules, but they'll never really know what it's like to wait outside in the freezing cold at five in the morning for the perfect glint of sunrise in order to get a shot that won't be on screen for more than ten seconds. They'll never find themselves screaming at clouds to move once they blocked the sun at the exact moment when the camera team finally got ready.
Some people climb mountains or travel the world just to get a stunning look at the setting sun, but the way I see it, you'll never truly appreciate a sunset until there are three crucial shots that need to be captured in the twenty minutes of perfect golden light at the very end of a long day. What will make it even more appreciated is when these shots don't all get finished and you have to work on Saturday, which means you have to reschedule that date.
Well it looks like call time is 6:00. Maybe she's around on Sunday.
November 7th, 2009 - 18:37
Great observation. Take a look at Ansel Adams’ “Moonrise over Hernandez.” His son tells the story of driving around with his father when Ansel suddenly hit the brakes and feverishly set up a 4×5 plate camera on tripod on the roof of the car. His son says Ansel only got one plate…but my God, what a shot. As his son observed, “it only took dad a lifetime to be able to capture that image.”