Disturbing Title right....
Ponder on this small tale..it is a true one and happened to me.
Some years ago I was living in a very upmarket apartment block in the centre of fashionable Chelsea, London.
At that time I was shooting a very popular TV show...the Studios were a tube ride from my nearest tube station which was at the South Kensington Underground and the journey took about 45 minutes.
As usual the Production company had hired a run down warehouse,which had been abandoned for several years and was in a filthy dilapidated state..the sort of place where you didn't want to touch anything.Accordingly the entire crew and myself wore really tough old clothes,torn jeans, boots, baseball caps..in case the everpresent pigeons in the rafters decided to relieve themselves...and really tough old jackets..... we looked like a bunch of hobos .
Ok..you have that image...let us move on..The working hours were from 8am until 7pm and we were shooting in the winter months, so when I was finally released I would walk across to the Tube station in the dark and of course it was dark when I exited at my station in town.
Walking home in that part of London was always a pleasure..Elegant white painted terraces..home to the privileged and wealthy..and me.
The entrance to my apartment block was through some large glass doors and then to get to the elevators there was a thirty yard walk.As I crossed the wide pavement and approached the front door a woman who I would have placed in her late fifties,early sixties approached the same door from the other direction and we both arrived at the same time.I held up my keys and offered to open the door for her...she completely ignored me and opened the door,went in and closed the door behind her.
Maybe she was having a bad day...that's fine..I then opened the door and went into the long hallway to reach the elevators...she was waiting halfway down the corridor and stood facing me
Her.."Do you live here"
Me.."Yes"
Her "I don't know you"
Me.."Thats ok,I don't know you either"
We both walked to the elevators as she continued her questioning.
Her.."Which flat are you in"
Me...holding up my keys.."I live on the 7th floor"
Her.."But which flat...what number"
I pressed the button for the elevator which was showing to be on the top floor...the indicator showed it had begunits journey.
Her.."I don't think you live her at all"
At this stage she began to become rather agitated and backed away from me and the elevator and pushed herself into a corner where she slid to the floor and then burst into screaming at the top of her voice..."Rape..Rape he is raping me..help help"
The loud shouting continued and she began to pull at her clothes,ripping her blouse out of her skirt as she now laid down on the floor.
So here I was..a nutty distraught woman yelling rape and murder..the lift was approaching and was just a couple of floors away.
Then the horror of it hit me...If the lift had anyone in it and the doors opened on this scene..or if other residents came through the front door..what would they see..a rather scruffy man in very rough clothes..a middle class woman down on the floor and screaming RAPE....what would they have thought..
The police would no doubt have been called.and in all probability I would have been arrested..taken to a police station and questioned....no doubt kept in overnight.
My non arrival at the studios and the reason why would have soon been broadcast around the very small business in London and even if I could prove my innocence the smelll would linger..It would have been almost impossible to work in the industry again...and I was completely innovcent...what would you have thought if you had been in the lift or walked through the front door.
Anyway the lift arrived...thank heaven it was empty....no one in it...the woman was still screaming and her screams continued to echo all the way up the lift shaft where I leapt out on the 7th floor and ran to my apartment.
That woman could have completely ruined me.
I continued to live there for a long time and never saw her again.
Could make a nice small Budget Horror movie
And all true.
Tuesday, 22 March 2016
Tuesday, 8 March 2016
Shooting in the rain and Night scenes
Shooting in the rain and night scenes.
There are some situations that occur in every Director of Photography’s career that can make or break that career..
Asking around among my colleagues who specialize in this dark art it transpires that the pet hates and worries are night shoots and filming in the rain.
I love both of these situations and embrace every opportunity to go out at night and scare the neighborhood, if I can I will use big lights and rain..What a sadist I am..
A film I have much time for “The Road To Perdition” has a scene where the hero, played by Tom Hanks appears from the darkness and in a downpour, with a blazing machine gun, he wipes out the gang surrounding his main target..Paul Newman..
It is a great scene but it would have lost most of its impact visually if it had been shot in ..a, daylight..and ..b,at night without the very heavy rain.
At the very top of the scene the mobsters exit a restaurant into a dark street, it is almost entirely heavily backlit and the figures are almost virtual silhouettes. The rain is bouncing off the street and forming a little spray cloud around them as they attempt to get into their cars..That’s when the demon Hanks goes for them…..one of my favorite scenes…And to my eye, one of the easiest to light for maximum effect..
I have no idea how explicit the script was or how much input came from the Designer or even the Director but this was the craft of lighting for film at its finest…
For a number of years I was fortunate to work on some very heavy duty crime films, which inevitably had lots of night scenes, not much killing takes place in broad daylight, and in every case I would plead to have some rain employed.
I remember one scene that took place in a bleak and very dark back alley in Glasgow, and they don’t come much darker or bleaker, where our victim walked up to the iconic red phone box, with its twenty watt bulb, opens the door, picks up the phone and then was immediately grabbed and murdered..I lit the entire scene with one 2k blonde and the lamp in the phone box.
This was only possible because I used lots of rain effects..
Another scene from the same film starts off in a Glasgow bar where our two stars start fighting each other, they brawl their way along the bar and then out onto the street, where they continue for a little while longer until one of them runs off up the road into the dimly lit centre of the city..
Again this scene was shot at night, entirely from the exterior of the pub and we tracked along as they stumbled out onto the street..It was lit with the existing lights in the bar and one 2.5k HMI from a building opposite.
The exposure level throughout had to match the level on the street and the level of the road, which was lit by street lights.It was fortunate that there had been a very heavy downpour that evening and the lights just kicked up from the wet road surface..But I did have a water bowser on stand by..
Beware the source of the water supply..I say this because I filmed a love story for HBO and it was mainly set in a castle on the remote West coast of Scotland.
The two lovers meet after a long absence, they both arrive at the great gates of the castle, in separate cars, get out and dash towards each other for a passionate embrace.This was all done in a raging storm, lightning, thunder and sheets of rain, all ours of course.
It looked terrific, there they were, kissing away and oblivious to the weather, soaked to the skin, they were completely unaware of the elements.
So was I until some of the spray from the rain finally got to me and trickled down my face. I wiped it from my mouth..What was this…salt water…sea water..
For this particular shoot I had secured a brand new super sixteen Panaflex camera, never been used before, first one in the country, a beautiful machine..And there it was being covered in a fine film of spray that even the camera crews frantic efforts to cover failed to stop the corrosive salt water getting onto the body.
It was ruined.
The water supply team had thought they could do the job on the cheap and instead of supplying a bowser full of fresh water they had simply put their pump over the castle wall into the Loch, a sea Loch..
It looked great but the camera was a right-off..
Night shooting..
Again this is something I love doing..I hate the hours and the disruption to ones social life but sometimes they just have to be done.
The maxim for me is to make sure you have sufficient lights. never go with the small stuff, you can never make it brighter but you can make the bright stuff darker..
And the other Maxim is to keep it simple.
Usually I prefer to three quarter back light, from both sides, this is not always possible but it’s not a bad rule of thumb, and if it is at all possible do the location recce at night, it lets you work out what is available from buildings and street lights.
Allow plenty of rig time..never push the sparks, its dangerous rigging at night and accidents can happen..
Two very quick anecdotes.
I had a big scene to light where four thieves robbed a country house/mansion, at night.
The Director had them running across a field, along the driveway , up the broad circular stairs to the front door, which had columns of stone pillars along the balcony, they had a key and the shot finished with a close up of the key sliding into the lock.
Easy eh..
We laid a 150 foot track which had a dolly and crane on it, the start was on the robbers feet, so we started low, track along with them and as they went past the camera, about half way along the track the crane would rise and leave them in the bottom of frame with the grand mansion at the top of frame
…are you still with me..
Good, there is more..
The crane would then continue its track to move close and pick out the lead robber as he mounted the steps, the camera had to be perfectly placed as he ran very quickly and there were these darn columns, the key was in his hand , the camera is moving very fast, the key is in the lock and the camera finishes on the bcu of the lock. Cut..
It took one take.
The light for the scene was a quarter Wendy Light on a crane at the far side of the field and provided an even back light and the crane/camera operator was a pal of mine who had been the operator on the first Star Wars movie..One take, job done, home for tea and biscuits. Simple..
High winds and lighting towers/cranes/cherrypickers.
It is always better to have the big back light as high as possible so we use high cranes or cherrypickers, wonderful tools of the trade, except they are severely limited by weather conditions.The drivers /operators will not take them up if the wind is too strong.Fair enough
I was shooting a SAS film some time ago , out in the desert..a stone quarry in North London really, big scene, lotsa shooting, at night.
The cherry picker was up there with the back light,and a wind got up, it started to rattle the gel on the lights, the recordist complained, the director wanted the light brought down and the gel attended to.
The wind was now very strong, the cherrypicker should have been brought down anyway for safety reasons, but it would never have gone up again…the scene would be incomplete..A quick walk over to the wagon to have a chat with the operator. He was fast asleep and not monitoring his wind meter…we very quickly finished the scene..
Just recently I had a night shoot on the moors above Manchester, again we had a cherrypicker, the idea was to backlight some rescuers who were searching for a missing child..The wind was horrendous… The operator said it couldn’t go up…What to do..
I put the large lights,4x6k HMI’s, on the ground, over the hill top and skimmed the light just above the ridge, then I ordered some smoke machines to go down to the bottom of the hill and pump out as much smoke as possible.. we upgraded the powerful torches the rescuers had…It worked…Thank heaven..
Adversity is best planned for and is sometimes the mother, and father of invention.
More lighting tales next week..
Previously posted on Reelshowmag
Asking around among my colleagues who specialize in this dark art it transpires that the pet hates and worries are night shoots and filming in the rain.
I love both of these situations and embrace every opportunity to go out at night and scare the neighborhood, if I can I will use big lights and rain..What a sadist I am..
A film I have much time for “The Road To Perdition” has a scene where the hero, played by Tom Hanks appears from the darkness and in a downpour, with a blazing machine gun, he wipes out the gang surrounding his main target..Paul Newman..
It is a great scene but it would have lost most of its impact visually if it had been shot in ..a, daylight..and ..b,at night without the very heavy rain.
At the very top of the scene the mobsters exit a restaurant into a dark street, it is almost entirely heavily backlit and the figures are almost virtual silhouettes. The rain is bouncing off the street and forming a little spray cloud around them as they attempt to get into their cars..That’s when the demon Hanks goes for them…..one of my favorite scenes…And to my eye, one of the easiest to light for maximum effect..
I have no idea how explicit the script was or how much input came from the Designer or even the Director but this was the craft of lighting for film at its finest…
For a number of years I was fortunate to work on some very heavy duty crime films, which inevitably had lots of night scenes, not much killing takes place in broad daylight, and in every case I would plead to have some rain employed.
I remember one scene that took place in a bleak and very dark back alley in Glasgow, and they don’t come much darker or bleaker, where our victim walked up to the iconic red phone box, with its twenty watt bulb, opens the door, picks up the phone and then was immediately grabbed and murdered..I lit the entire scene with one 2k blonde and the lamp in the phone box.
This was only possible because I used lots of rain effects..
Another scene from the same film starts off in a Glasgow bar where our two stars start fighting each other, they brawl their way along the bar and then out onto the street, where they continue for a little while longer until one of them runs off up the road into the dimly lit centre of the city..
Again this scene was shot at night, entirely from the exterior of the pub and we tracked along as they stumbled out onto the street..It was lit with the existing lights in the bar and one 2.5k HMI from a building opposite.
The exposure level throughout had to match the level on the street and the level of the road, which was lit by street lights.It was fortunate that there had been a very heavy downpour that evening and the lights just kicked up from the wet road surface..But I did have a water bowser on stand by..
Beware the source of the water supply..I say this because I filmed a love story for HBO and it was mainly set in a castle on the remote West coast of Scotland.
The two lovers meet after a long absence, they both arrive at the great gates of the castle, in separate cars, get out and dash towards each other for a passionate embrace.This was all done in a raging storm, lightning, thunder and sheets of rain, all ours of course.
It looked terrific, there they were, kissing away and oblivious to the weather, soaked to the skin, they were completely unaware of the elements.
So was I until some of the spray from the rain finally got to me and trickled down my face. I wiped it from my mouth..What was this…salt water…sea water..
For this particular shoot I had secured a brand new super sixteen Panaflex camera, never been used before, first one in the country, a beautiful machine..And there it was being covered in a fine film of spray that even the camera crews frantic efforts to cover failed to stop the corrosive salt water getting onto the body.
It was ruined.
The water supply team had thought they could do the job on the cheap and instead of supplying a bowser full of fresh water they had simply put their pump over the castle wall into the Loch, a sea Loch..
It looked great but the camera was a right-off..
Night shooting..
Again this is something I love doing..I hate the hours and the disruption to ones social life but sometimes they just have to be done.
The maxim for me is to make sure you have sufficient lights. never go with the small stuff, you can never make it brighter but you can make the bright stuff darker..
And the other Maxim is to keep it simple.
Usually I prefer to three quarter back light, from both sides, this is not always possible but it’s not a bad rule of thumb, and if it is at all possible do the location recce at night, it lets you work out what is available from buildings and street lights.
Allow plenty of rig time..never push the sparks, its dangerous rigging at night and accidents can happen..
Two very quick anecdotes.
I had a big scene to light where four thieves robbed a country house/mansion, at night.
The Director had them running across a field, along the driveway , up the broad circular stairs to the front door, which had columns of stone pillars along the balcony, they had a key and the shot finished with a close up of the key sliding into the lock.
Easy eh..
We laid a 150 foot track which had a dolly and crane on it, the start was on the robbers feet, so we started low, track along with them and as they went past the camera, about half way along the track the crane would rise and leave them in the bottom of frame with the grand mansion at the top of frame
…are you still with me..
Good, there is more..
The crane would then continue its track to move close and pick out the lead robber as he mounted the steps, the camera had to be perfectly placed as he ran very quickly and there were these darn columns, the key was in his hand , the camera is moving very fast, the key is in the lock and the camera finishes on the bcu of the lock. Cut..
It took one take.
The light for the scene was a quarter Wendy Light on a crane at the far side of the field and provided an even back light and the crane/camera operator was a pal of mine who had been the operator on the first Star Wars movie..One take, job done, home for tea and biscuits. Simple..
High winds and lighting towers/cranes/cherrypickers.
It is always better to have the big back light as high as possible so we use high cranes or cherrypickers, wonderful tools of the trade, except they are severely limited by weather conditions.The drivers /operators will not take them up if the wind is too strong.Fair enough
I was shooting a SAS film some time ago , out in the desert..a stone quarry in North London really, big scene, lotsa shooting, at night.
The cherry picker was up there with the back light,and a wind got up, it started to rattle the gel on the lights, the recordist complained, the director wanted the light brought down and the gel attended to.
The wind was now very strong, the cherrypicker should have been brought down anyway for safety reasons, but it would never have gone up again…the scene would be incomplete..A quick walk over to the wagon to have a chat with the operator. He was fast asleep and not monitoring his wind meter…we very quickly finished the scene..
Just recently I had a night shoot on the moors above Manchester, again we had a cherrypicker, the idea was to backlight some rescuers who were searching for a missing child..The wind was horrendous… The operator said it couldn’t go up…What to do..
I put the large lights,4x6k HMI’s, on the ground, over the hill top and skimmed the light just above the ridge, then I ordered some smoke machines to go down to the bottom of the hill and pump out as much smoke as possible.. we upgraded the powerful torches the rescuers had…It worked…Thank heaven..
Adversity is best planned for and is sometimes the mother, and father of invention.
More lighting tales next week..
Previously posted on Reelshowmag
Saturday, 20 February 2016
Clothes maketh the film Extra
Or should that read Costume transforms the supporting actor into an arrogant tyrant..
Well perhaps not, but over the years I have witnessed some amazing transformations and it might be worth a short study at some Human Science College.
I have worked on a number of hospital based dramas and there are always lots of supporting artists, or extras, walk-ons etc.The people who dash past the camera clutching files and looking very important The crippled old lady in the pushchair, the one who would kill you to get in front of you at the tea break, the two very chatty nurses at the Nurses Station, no doubt talking about last nights conquest … and they do all of this in total silence.
But of course they are not real people at all ..they are film extras.
On one occasion we had a couple of bus loads of these wannabe stars on a hospital location.
They arrived and immediately fell upon the catering wagon for what appeared to be their only meal in three weeks or so. Laden with several sliced pigs and a weeks output from some chickens and a pile of fruit they all sat down together, most of them were acquainted with others, they tend to all come from the same agencies and get sent to the same jobs, over the years they have become good pals..
Until the Wardrobe folk come a calling..
They want ten patients, ten doctors, ten nurses, two bed bounds, two cleaners, two trolley pushers etc, etc…
Still munching their breakfasts our doughty bunch of buddies wander off for their costume fitting…
When they returned…The doctors, in their white coats, scrubs, stethoscopes, all sat at one end of the refectory, the nurses sat at another table, the two porters and the cleaners were completely shunned and the patients were treated as though they had bubonic plague.
This attitude continued for the duration of the shoot..One social group did not interact with any of the others…It was the social grouping and the Uniform.
I had some Americans from NY staying over a couple of weeks ago and during the course of one of many conversations, you all know how Americans can talk, the subject of Hitler’s little helpers came up..as it always does..
At one stage I shocked my guests by saying that if I had been of the right age and a German, at the outset of war or just before it I would have been inclined to join the SS or the Gestapo.
Yep..That brought a few gasps from my guests, until I pointed out that the Uniforms were so bloody snazzy and smart any young lad would have been pulled in by them..In those days a very smart Black and Silver Uniform could transform some local, gormless village lad into the local babe magnet. Old Adolf played a smart card there and it was only a damn Uniform..here is example.
Another film I shot was set in a concentration/extermination camp in Poland where Jewish scientists had to produce a vaccine for a disease that was killing German troops fighting on the Russian front.
Those Jewish lads were clever, under the most arduous of conditions they managed to successfully produce the vaccine, but they did not tell their SS Officers in charge of the unit.
The vaccine was tried out on human guinea pigs in the camp hospital and it worked ..all of the sufferers were cured..The Germans were delighted and sent huge batches out to the front line, except it was all dud stuff..The Jewish Scientists removed a vital ingredient and the front line soldiers continued to die.
If they had been discovered they would have all been executed..Fortunately the end of the war precluded that event..The camp Commandant was in fact executed by the inmates at the end of the war before he could leg it.
The point of the story is exactly the same as the first story.
The extras who were issued with smart SS uniforms and the camp guards began to strut around and bellow at each other..and this was in the food queues at lunchtime, meanwhile the poor inmates, dressed in those dreadful stripey jimjams began to defer to them, they allowed them to push to the front of the queue and never ever joined them in any social group..the shoot was over a three week period and some of the actors began to have character changes…very odd and very worrying.
It doesn’t have to be the Germans and the SS I have also witnessed the same phenomena among some brit actors. …particularly during Miltary shoots..the officers begin to act differently and the squaddies all seem to start smoking their ciggies in a different way.
It could be argued that they were all getting into character, but the leading actors take off the uniform and become their former selves, the extras’ seemed to carry their roles home with them and hang on to them, maybe it had something to do with a power complex or loss of power complex..for some it might have been the only time in their lives where they actually looked smart and powerful..who knows..
When you have an opportunity to be in one of the situations described above just watch those film extras..I always wondered where Adolf got his helpers from and now I think I know..
They were all Fashionistas..!!
Well perhaps not, but over the years I have witnessed some amazing transformations and it might be worth a short study at some Human Science College.
I have worked on a number of hospital based dramas and there are always lots of supporting artists, or extras, walk-ons etc.The people who dash past the camera clutching files and looking very important The crippled old lady in the pushchair, the one who would kill you to get in front of you at the tea break, the two very chatty nurses at the Nurses Station, no doubt talking about last nights conquest … and they do all of this in total silence.
But of course they are not real people at all ..they are film extras.
On one occasion we had a couple of bus loads of these wannabe stars on a hospital location.
They arrived and immediately fell upon the catering wagon for what appeared to be their only meal in three weeks or so. Laden with several sliced pigs and a weeks output from some chickens and a pile of fruit they all sat down together, most of them were acquainted with others, they tend to all come from the same agencies and get sent to the same jobs, over the years they have become good pals..
Until the Wardrobe folk come a calling..
They want ten patients, ten doctors, ten nurses, two bed bounds, two cleaners, two trolley pushers etc, etc…
Still munching their breakfasts our doughty bunch of buddies wander off for their costume fitting…
When they returned…The doctors, in their white coats, scrubs, stethoscopes, all sat at one end of the refectory, the nurses sat at another table, the two porters and the cleaners were completely shunned and the patients were treated as though they had bubonic plague.
This attitude continued for the duration of the shoot..One social group did not interact with any of the others…It was the social grouping and the Uniform.
I had some Americans from NY staying over a couple of weeks ago and during the course of one of many conversations, you all know how Americans can talk, the subject of Hitler’s little helpers came up..as it always does..
At one stage I shocked my guests by saying that if I had been of the right age and a German, at the outset of war or just before it I would have been inclined to join the SS or the Gestapo.
Yep..That brought a few gasps from my guests, until I pointed out that the Uniforms were so bloody snazzy and smart any young lad would have been pulled in by them..In those days a very smart Black and Silver Uniform could transform some local, gormless village lad into the local babe magnet. Old Adolf played a smart card there and it was only a damn Uniform..here is example.
Another film I shot was set in a concentration/extermination camp in Poland where Jewish scientists had to produce a vaccine for a disease that was killing German troops fighting on the Russian front.
Those Jewish lads were clever, under the most arduous of conditions they managed to successfully produce the vaccine, but they did not tell their SS Officers in charge of the unit.
The vaccine was tried out on human guinea pigs in the camp hospital and it worked ..all of the sufferers were cured..The Germans were delighted and sent huge batches out to the front line, except it was all dud stuff..The Jewish Scientists removed a vital ingredient and the front line soldiers continued to die.
If they had been discovered they would have all been executed..Fortunately the end of the war precluded that event..The camp Commandant was in fact executed by the inmates at the end of the war before he could leg it.
The point of the story is exactly the same as the first story.
The extras who were issued with smart SS uniforms and the camp guards began to strut around and bellow at each other..and this was in the food queues at lunchtime, meanwhile the poor inmates, dressed in those dreadful stripey jimjams began to defer to them, they allowed them to push to the front of the queue and never ever joined them in any social group..the shoot was over a three week period and some of the actors began to have character changes…very odd and very worrying.
It doesn’t have to be the Germans and the SS I have also witnessed the same phenomena among some brit actors. …particularly during Miltary shoots..the officers begin to act differently and the squaddies all seem to start smoking their ciggies in a different way.
It could be argued that they were all getting into character, but the leading actors take off the uniform and become their former selves, the extras’ seemed to carry their roles home with them and hang on to them, maybe it had something to do with a power complex or loss of power complex..for some it might have been the only time in their lives where they actually looked smart and powerful..who knows..
When you have an opportunity to be in one of the situations described above just watch those film extras..I always wondered where Adolf got his helpers from and now I think I know..
They were all Fashionistas..!!
Sunday, 14 February 2016
BEACH PARTIES..
Ok so it’s beach vacation time..lets hit the surf, dunes, bars, parties, guys or girls .. Whatever takes your fancy..
The college vacation time is too long..I know it’s great to be with your buddies, wherever they are and whatever they are doing but why not be ahead of the crowd and organize a beach party to create your next film project.
A scriptathon beach barby production. Production team, money raising committee..
Go back to college refreshed from the holiday but with a roaring concept that you can initiate immediately.
Those great fun days on the beach need not just be an opportunity to kill a few million brain cells, they can also be an opportunity to get the best of the local talent firing on all cylinders. Get the beach barby going, organize an agenda, swill the booze, get some creatives to talk. There is no time scale to consider. Start at eight and go to bed when the sun comes up, or even later.
Swill some more booze..eat some meat, chargrilled of course..but who really cares..eye up the chicks and the jocks..more booze..move in for the hit with those killer pulling lines ..
But come away from the beach with a project.. born from the vacation mood, the genetic urgings. . lots of booze..good food…. and the will, desire, to succeed.
This is the moment when your brain is at its most creative…Do not bury it under a wave of alcohol and other fun inducing pastimes.
There is not a moment to spare…All of them to enjoy but it is even better when it produces great ideas…Hit the beach folks and create…..not in the biblical sense. .in the moviegoers sense..
Have a nice day now..
The college vacation time is too long..I know it’s great to be with your buddies, wherever they are and whatever they are doing but why not be ahead of the crowd and organize a beach party to create your next film project.
A scriptathon beach barby production. Production team, money raising committee..
Go back to college refreshed from the holiday but with a roaring concept that you can initiate immediately.
Those great fun days on the beach need not just be an opportunity to kill a few million brain cells, they can also be an opportunity to get the best of the local talent firing on all cylinders. Get the beach barby going, organize an agenda, swill the booze, get some creatives to talk. There is no time scale to consider. Start at eight and go to bed when the sun comes up, or even later.
Swill some more booze..eat some meat, chargrilled of course..but who really cares..eye up the chicks and the jocks..more booze..move in for the hit with those killer pulling lines ..
But come away from the beach with a project.. born from the vacation mood, the genetic urgings. . lots of booze..good food…. and the will, desire, to succeed.
This is the moment when your brain is at its most creative…Do not bury it under a wave of alcohol and other fun inducing pastimes.
There is not a moment to spare…All of them to enjoy but it is even better when it produces great ideas…Hit the beach folks and create…..not in the biblical sense. .in the moviegoers sense..
Have a nice day now..
About Richard Dodd
SEYSCHELLES TREASUE
Buried treasure in the Seychelles
Imagine this Idyllic scene, you and your partner are on holiday in that fantastic Indian Ocean paradise called the Seychelles.
The Hotels are wonderful and the beaches are probably the best in the world…I have made a special study of great world beaches and can say this with some authority.
The scuba and snorkeling is fantastic around the reefs.
So, there you are, a beautiful day, a drive to a remote beach, a sunbathe, spreading suntan oil, a little picnic and then a dive. .into the water.. please pay attention.
The crystal clear sea is calm and perfect, the sun glints on the tiny ripples as you move out from the white sandy beach into deeper water.
You reach the point to descend, fix the mask, release the air and begin to drop into an aquatic paradise.
When you reach the sandy bottom you can crack open a couple of sea urchins and watch as hundreds of little fish of all colours dive in for their share. What could be nicer.
Treasure could be nicer.
And then you spot it, the gleam of bright yellow metal, half hidden in the sand, it’s the handle of a dagger, with a large ruby embedded at the top of the hilt.
When you pull the dagger from the sand it dislodges some gold coins, dozens of them, and there is a gold chalice, pearl necklace, a leather ,rotted, bag of diamonds, lots of small silver coins and a wonderfully embossed gold crucifix.
Stop.
I have told this story before in a past posting , so why am I returning to it. At the moment I have a yearning to go back to that wonderful place and it set me to wondering how amazing it would be to find that treasure.
I know it is there and I know exactly where it is.
I put it there ..it is all fake…Film props that we were unable to rescue at the end of filming on the Island because a storm arrived on the day before we departed after a two month shoot, and we never got back out to that cove.
I often wonder how many holidays have been completely destroyed for anyone finding some of those very realistic props and how they spent their holidays trying to find more, hiding the loot from the authorities, to whom it rightfully belonged if real, and how they struggled to get it through the baggage and customs people at both ends of their flights home.
I do hope they didn’t succumb to spending their ill gotten gains before they found they were fake.
Meanwhile, as I sit here baking in 90 degrees of heat and the nearest sea wave a one hour drive away, I will continue to picture those fabulous beaches.
The location of the cove is at the North West tip of Mahe, just for those among you who might get the treasure fever…remember it is all fake…or is it..
The Hotels are wonderful and the beaches are probably the best in the world…I have made a special study of great world beaches and can say this with some authority.
The scuba and snorkeling is fantastic around the reefs.
So, there you are, a beautiful day, a drive to a remote beach, a sunbathe, spreading suntan oil, a little picnic and then a dive. .into the water.. please pay attention.
The crystal clear sea is calm and perfect, the sun glints on the tiny ripples as you move out from the white sandy beach into deeper water.
You reach the point to descend, fix the mask, release the air and begin to drop into an aquatic paradise.
When you reach the sandy bottom you can crack open a couple of sea urchins and watch as hundreds of little fish of all colours dive in for their share. What could be nicer.
Treasure could be nicer.
And then you spot it, the gleam of bright yellow metal, half hidden in the sand, it’s the handle of a dagger, with a large ruby embedded at the top of the hilt.
When you pull the dagger from the sand it dislodges some gold coins, dozens of them, and there is a gold chalice, pearl necklace, a leather ,rotted, bag of diamonds, lots of small silver coins and a wonderfully embossed gold crucifix.
Stop.
I have told this story before in a past posting , so why am I returning to it. At the moment I have a yearning to go back to that wonderful place and it set me to wondering how amazing it would be to find that treasure.
I know it is there and I know exactly where it is.
I put it there ..it is all fake…Film props that we were unable to rescue at the end of filming on the Island because a storm arrived on the day before we departed after a two month shoot, and we never got back out to that cove.
I often wonder how many holidays have been completely destroyed for anyone finding some of those very realistic props and how they spent their holidays trying to find more, hiding the loot from the authorities, to whom it rightfully belonged if real, and how they struggled to get it through the baggage and customs people at both ends of their flights home.
I do hope they didn’t succumb to spending their ill gotten gains before they found they were fake.
Meanwhile, as I sit here baking in 90 degrees of heat and the nearest sea wave a one hour drive away, I will continue to picture those fabulous beaches.
The location of the cove is at the North West tip of Mahe, just for those among you who might get the treasure fever…remember it is all fake…or is it..
About Richard Dodd
Comments
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ju says
very nicely written
Wednesday, 10 February 2016
Food for Filmmakers
Food for Filmmakers
A quick zip around the globe and it brings us to Hong Kong.
I love Chinese food.
And HK is the MECCA.
I was there filming a TV movie in the “Cracker” series for UK TV.
The crew was a mixture of locals and some that were flown in from the UK.
The entire grip crew were Chinese and they were brilliant..every one of them.
At the end of the shoot the grip crew invited the Camera crew out for a meal..their choice of venue.. and menu..
The camera crew consisted of myself, the operator Mike Miller, the follow focus..Richard Brierley, the camera assistant /Loader..Mandy..she has since married and I don’t know her married name.
Mandy is a Lancastrian and lives in a beautifully restored barn on the heights overlooking Manchester. She likes to eat….anything..
Richard is from Manchester, lives in London and thinks eating is something to do with the mouth between pouring ale down it..
Mike is built like a bean pole..eats like a horse but always looks as though he has just spent ten years in solitary in the Gulag..no meat on this fella at all.
The arrangement was that we should all meet up at the Peninsula Hotel in Kowloon and the grip team would take us from there..
Kowloon is an old city and is full of dark and mysterious alleyways..places where most folk would not venture on their own..but here we were..diving deeper and deeper into smaller, darker, narrower alleys, getting some strange looks from the locals.
Eventually we stopped at the venue.
It looked OK..full of locals..which is always a good sign’
We were welcomed, seated and the booze began to flow..we ordered from the extensive menu..taking tips from our hosts.
The food was delicious.
And it kept on coming..and coming..Chinese can eat their weight in food it seems.
And all of it was demolished.
One feature if the presentation was that at the end of each large platter of food, the head of the main meat or fish component in the dish was displayed on a small flattened part of the plate..a little off putting at first..to see the head of the chicken, fish, animal, peering at you as you consumed its body, but that seems to be the human way..we quickly got used to it…until..
One dish arrived ..and as it was placed on the table the Chinese crew started muttering among themselves..there was no head..What was it?.
The centre piece was completely unrecognizable to any one at the table, even the waiter had no idea what the creature was..
It sat in the middle of the dish..in isolated splendour..It was the size of a small football..it was entirely dark grey in colour and had some short stubby tentacles sticking out..it was seriously off putting and no one made a move to eat it.
Except Mike..
After waiting for what he obviously deemed to be a respectful period of waiting..for our hosts to begin..about one nanosecond..he stabbed the beast/alien with his fork and began chewing at it.
He ate it all…it took about twenty minutes..we all watched with open mouths as this creature was slowly devoured..no one said anything until Mike had finished.
He picked up his napkin..wiped his mouth..noticed we were all watching him and said “Nice..what was it?”
To this day none of us know..or even want to
One other feature of that shoot was the lunch time catering…great food..lots of it..but nowhere to sit..after six weeks shooting we all became experts at standing up with a plate in one hand and a fork in the other..takes a little time to get used to it but you soon learn what to put on your plate that allows one hand eating..
And now with the flick of the magic wand we are miraculously transported to the desert town of Wittenoom in Western Australia..
Dateline 1970..
We had been filming in the area , making a documentary on the man who found a mountain of Iron Ore..and a vast fortune..Lang Hancock.
Wittenoom was a desert town and had been built around a huge deposit of asbestos..There was at that time a massive demand for this material..until it was discovered that nearly all of the work force were suffering from some form of chest disease through inhaling the fibres.
Asbestosis reared its ugly head and Wittenoom died. .it is rumoured that quite a number of the inhabitants died too..
Anyway here it is..a deserted ghost town..lots of empty properties, proper paved roads, traffic lights, boarded up shops. Not the sort of place one would choose to have a country estate..But Lang was an old time prospector and he was used to being out there in the wilderness, he invited us to join him one weekend, for a barbecue..
Australians enjoy one of the best diets in the world, like Americans, they serve up huge portions and so it was at Lang’s place..
No burgers at this barby..we had a full grown animal on a massive spit roast.
And lots to drink.
We all arranged ourselves around the rather sparse garden and watched the meat being slowly roasted..it smelt great and we were hungry..
We were not the only ones attracted by the meal..
We all became aware of a noise coming from the unlit bush..lots of unlit bush..several thousand square miles of it..It was a sort of booming noise..we heard it every half minute or so and it was getting closer.
Some of Lang’s staff had rifles and they kept them close, casting wary eyes on the darkness.
Turns out it was a massive Python. Often seen in the area of the farm where it had taken some livestock on previous occasions…attracted by the sounds and smell it had decided to pop in for a snack..anything for a snack..it could have been one of us…
A few rounds of buckshot seemed to scare it away but nobody used the toilet facilities which were down a path away from the light
We huddled closer together and moved nearer to the large roasting pit.Then I noticed we were roasting something more than just a lamb or a calf.
Out of the dark night there were hundreds of winged critters screaming through the air to crash land on the slowly turning meat..they must have been hungry because they were instantly incinerated by the flames..and they stayed there..
The spit roast was slowly becoming encased in nighttime critters which were forming a crust. And some of them were about six inches long..
I lost my appetite rather quickly but it was no barrier to the farmhands/estate workers ..they sliced off huge slivers of the animal and wolfed them down..along with the newly arrived casing.
A word of warning..If you are ever in the vicinity of my operator,Mike, from the first tale..dont get too close..he might be hungry..
I love Chinese food.
And HK is the MECCA.
I was there filming a TV movie in the “Cracker” series for UK TV.
The crew was a mixture of locals and some that were flown in from the UK.
The entire grip crew were Chinese and they were brilliant..every one of them.
At the end of the shoot the grip crew invited the Camera crew out for a meal..their choice of venue.. and menu..
The camera crew consisted of myself, the operator Mike Miller, the follow focus..Richard Brierley, the camera assistant /Loader..Mandy..she has since married and I don’t know her married name.
Mandy is a Lancastrian and lives in a beautifully restored barn on the heights overlooking Manchester. She likes to eat….anything..
Richard is from Manchester, lives in London and thinks eating is something to do with the mouth between pouring ale down it..
Mike is built like a bean pole..eats like a horse but always looks as though he has just spent ten years in solitary in the Gulag..no meat on this fella at all.
The arrangement was that we should all meet up at the Peninsula Hotel in Kowloon and the grip team would take us from there..
Kowloon is an old city and is full of dark and mysterious alleyways..places where most folk would not venture on their own..but here we were..diving deeper and deeper into smaller, darker, narrower alleys, getting some strange looks from the locals.
Eventually we stopped at the venue.
It looked OK..full of locals..which is always a good sign’
We were welcomed, seated and the booze began to flow..we ordered from the extensive menu..taking tips from our hosts.
The food was delicious.
And it kept on coming..and coming..Chinese can eat their weight in food it seems.
And all of it was demolished.
One feature if the presentation was that at the end of each large platter of food, the head of the main meat or fish component in the dish was displayed on a small flattened part of the plate..a little off putting at first..to see the head of the chicken, fish, animal, peering at you as you consumed its body, but that seems to be the human way..we quickly got used to it…until..
One dish arrived ..and as it was placed on the table the Chinese crew started muttering among themselves..there was no head..What was it?.
The centre piece was completely unrecognizable to any one at the table, even the waiter had no idea what the creature was..
It sat in the middle of the dish..in isolated splendour..It was the size of a small football..it was entirely dark grey in colour and had some short stubby tentacles sticking out..it was seriously off putting and no one made a move to eat it.
Except Mike..
After waiting for what he obviously deemed to be a respectful period of waiting..for our hosts to begin..about one nanosecond..he stabbed the beast/alien with his fork and began chewing at it.
He ate it all…it took about twenty minutes..we all watched with open mouths as this creature was slowly devoured..no one said anything until Mike had finished.
He picked up his napkin..wiped his mouth..noticed we were all watching him and said “Nice..what was it?”
To this day none of us know..or even want to
One other feature of that shoot was the lunch time catering…great food..lots of it..but nowhere to sit..after six weeks shooting we all became experts at standing up with a plate in one hand and a fork in the other..takes a little time to get used to it but you soon learn what to put on your plate that allows one hand eating..
And now with the flick of the magic wand we are miraculously transported to the desert town of Wittenoom in Western Australia..
Dateline 1970..
We had been filming in the area , making a documentary on the man who found a mountain of Iron Ore..and a vast fortune..Lang Hancock.
Wittenoom was a desert town and had been built around a huge deposit of asbestos..There was at that time a massive demand for this material..until it was discovered that nearly all of the work force were suffering from some form of chest disease through inhaling the fibres.
Asbestosis reared its ugly head and Wittenoom died. .it is rumoured that quite a number of the inhabitants died too..
Anyway here it is..a deserted ghost town..lots of empty properties, proper paved roads, traffic lights, boarded up shops. Not the sort of place one would choose to have a country estate..But Lang was an old time prospector and he was used to being out there in the wilderness, he invited us to join him one weekend, for a barbecue..
Australians enjoy one of the best diets in the world, like Americans, they serve up huge portions and so it was at Lang’s place..
No burgers at this barby..we had a full grown animal on a massive spit roast.
And lots to drink.
We all arranged ourselves around the rather sparse garden and watched the meat being slowly roasted..it smelt great and we were hungry..
We were not the only ones attracted by the meal..
We all became aware of a noise coming from the unlit bush..lots of unlit bush..several thousand square miles of it..It was a sort of booming noise..we heard it every half minute or so and it was getting closer.
Some of Lang’s staff had rifles and they kept them close, casting wary eyes on the darkness.
Turns out it was a massive Python. Often seen in the area of the farm where it had taken some livestock on previous occasions…attracted by the sounds and smell it had decided to pop in for a snack..anything for a snack..it could have been one of us…
A few rounds of buckshot seemed to scare it away but nobody used the toilet facilities which were down a path away from the light
We huddled closer together and moved nearer to the large roasting pit.Then I noticed we were roasting something more than just a lamb or a calf.
Out of the dark night there were hundreds of winged critters screaming through the air to crash land on the slowly turning meat..they must have been hungry because they were instantly incinerated by the flames..and they stayed there..
The spit roast was slowly becoming encased in nighttime critters which were forming a crust. And some of them were about six inches long..
I lost my appetite rather quickly but it was no barrier to the farmhands/estate workers ..they sliced off huge slivers of the animal and wolfed them down..along with the newly arrived casing.
A word of warning..If you are ever in the vicinity of my operator,Mike, from the first tale..dont get too close..he might be hungry..
About Richard Dodd
Saturday, 23 January 2016
Another nautical tale…
Many years ago I was filming a documentary on Air Sea Rescue operations at a Base in Scotland. The programme was eventually shown on ITV. We did mock runs with the helicopters and fast rescue boats atc, and everything was going along quite well until a Royal Navy Officer suggested I should do the bird’s eye view of a rescue operation.
In this case he specifically meant the view a downed pilot would have as his rescuers, in the form of a helicopter and crew, would swoop across the ocean and pluck him from the jaws of certain death. After he had been forced to ditch into the sea.
A good idea, very visual..
The Navy at that time were very pleased about a new pilot survival suit they had with a newly developed rescue beacon that was much more powerful and detectable than anything they had previously.
It gets better. The chances of a rescue for a downed pilot wearing this suit were almost 100%
Reassured, off I trot like the sacrificial lamb to get kitted out in one of these survival suits and some basic survival techniques where it was explained to me that the master plan would be to drop me off in the Atlantic Ocean somewhere off the coast of North Scotland.
The rescue services would then be alerted that there was a pilot down and be given a rough search area. With approximate co-ordinates..an absolute doddle…they said..
So far so good..
What a fool..
So…Kitted out with a natty flying suit and a waterproof camera I am whisked away to a remote spot on the globe and dumped into the ocean…The helicopter hovered for a few minutes to make sure I was ok and then off they went back to their warm officers mess for tea and biscuits no doubt..
Meanwhile I am now bobbing about ..quite comfy and absolutely safe in the knowledge that in a few minutes ..maybe thirty at the outside, I would be located and saved..with some good footage of the operation…back in time for the bar opening..
The sea began to get a little choppy.
The survival suit was beginning to chafe a little as I was tossed about on the surface.
After a couple of hours I was violently seasick.
After four hours I began to get a little concerned.
My rescuers were nowhere to be seen.
But wait..That is a Nimrod aircraft at zero level about five mles away..It seemed to be doing criss cross patterns across the sea. Occasionally as I rose to the top of a swell I could also spot a couple of helicopters in the same area.
Now I was cold, had nothing left to vomit and hey…the sun was about to set..
The massive golden ball was hanging just above the horizon and glinting across the water .
This is it I thought. How many hours did that instructor say the survival time was. How many hours had passed and how many were left.
Some business men on a flight from Northern Ireland were crossing over to Scotland for a meeting. They were in a hurry and their chopper was flying low. They went straight over the top of me, continued for a couple of miles and then banked around for a closer look.
The chopper circled, the pilot waved and then they went on their way.
Within a few minutes my rescuers arrived. The winchman dropped in and looped me up.I got great footage and they were very embarrassed.
It turned out that the superdooper rescue beacon had “Malfunctioned” and they thought I was on my way to Nova Scotia or somewhere equally exciting.
The Navy were almost about to announce that they had just killed a film cameraman.
But they didn’t
Moral of the story…There isn’t one really..these things just happen but don’t take the experts word as gospel every time and carry a back up beacon..or get a job as an accountant..
Many years ago I was filming a documentary on Air Sea Rescue operations at a Base in Scotland. The programme was eventually shown on ITV. We did mock runs with the helicopters and fast rescue boats atc, and everything was going along quite well until a Royal Navy Officer suggested I should do the bird’s eye view of a rescue operation.
In this case he specifically meant the view a downed pilot would have as his rescuers, in the form of a helicopter and crew, would swoop across the ocean and pluck him from the jaws of certain death. After he had been forced to ditch into the sea.
A good idea, very visual..
The Navy at that time were very pleased about a new pilot survival suit they had with a newly developed rescue beacon that was much more powerful and detectable than anything they had previously.
It gets better. The chances of a rescue for a downed pilot wearing this suit were almost 100%
Reassured, off I trot like the sacrificial lamb to get kitted out in one of these survival suits and some basic survival techniques where it was explained to me that the master plan would be to drop me off in the Atlantic Ocean somewhere off the coast of North Scotland.
The rescue services would then be alerted that there was a pilot down and be given a rough search area. With approximate co-ordinates..an absolute doddle…they said..
So far so good..
What a fool..
So…Kitted out with a natty flying suit and a waterproof camera I am whisked away to a remote spot on the globe and dumped into the ocean…The helicopter hovered for a few minutes to make sure I was ok and then off they went back to their warm officers mess for tea and biscuits no doubt..
Meanwhile I am now bobbing about ..quite comfy and absolutely safe in the knowledge that in a few minutes ..maybe thirty at the outside, I would be located and saved..with some good footage of the operation…back in time for the bar opening..
The sea began to get a little choppy.
The survival suit was beginning to chafe a little as I was tossed about on the surface.
After a couple of hours I was violently seasick.
After four hours I began to get a little concerned.
My rescuers were nowhere to be seen.
But wait..That is a Nimrod aircraft at zero level about five mles away..It seemed to be doing criss cross patterns across the sea. Occasionally as I rose to the top of a swell I could also spot a couple of helicopters in the same area.
Now I was cold, had nothing left to vomit and hey…the sun was about to set..
The massive golden ball was hanging just above the horizon and glinting across the water .
This is it I thought. How many hours did that instructor say the survival time was. How many hours had passed and how many were left.
Some business men on a flight from Northern Ireland were crossing over to Scotland for a meeting. They were in a hurry and their chopper was flying low. They went straight over the top of me, continued for a couple of miles and then banked around for a closer look.
The chopper circled, the pilot waved and then they went on their way.
Within a few minutes my rescuers arrived. The winchman dropped in and looped me up.I got great footage and they were very embarrassed.
It turned out that the superdooper rescue beacon had “Malfunctioned” and they thought I was on my way to Nova Scotia or somewhere equally exciting.
The Navy were almost about to announce that they had just killed a film cameraman.
But they didn’t
Moral of the story…There isn’t one really..these things just happen but don’t take the experts word as gospel every time and carry a back up beacon..or get a job as an accountant..
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