Wednesday, February 15, 2006
Sydney Road Trip 2006, The Good, The Bad and The Ugly
Fate, it seemed, was laughing at me the day we left to shoot The MV for Sara-Ann K's MV, "Pei Wo Tao" (Run With Me).
Typically, I'd just come off an on-call. Perhaps it's age catching up with me, but each call seems to tire me out just a little more; being woken up for the umpteenth time after having just finally cleared everything and lying down for a bit of shut-eye (these days I cope by simply not sleeping. I've downloaded a little mindless computer game which I while away the breaking hours with - it almost gives me a little morbid satisfaction answering the nurse's telephone calls and disappointing them by sounding awake, instead of blearily exhausted. Ha. Didn't expect that, did you!
But each call leaves me feeling exhausted, nearly to the point of death.
It's not something I write or complain about; the solution is simple - go home and sleep.
Ah, but not that Sunday. That sunday sparked a memorable week of madness.
It'd take too long to run through, moment by moment - so here're some of the memories that I'll hold with me forever... or at least for a while more.
For the full story, either watch this space (if I can find the energy to write about it in detail) or go bug tetanus.
*****
The Good
1. Cascade Premium beer. I'd forgotten just how good Cascade was (although I did scour most of london searching for it, for several years) and it'd turned into an almost-myth in my mind, till the moment I put a mug of it to my lips.
The memories began to flood back - all of them - and suddenly I was in yesterdayland again, wandering across sydney with D, and visiting my elective Consultant, David, and my registrar... all the places I walked to on my own rose unbidden to mind. It was like perusing a thousand-page photo-album in half a second. The Rocks, Manly beach, Coogie, Bondi, The CBD, The North Shore, the RNSH, the stupid little fairground on the north shore.
Ah, the power of Beer.
2. Fields of Gold. Our director, Tetanus has a gift for his art. As we stood in fields of liquid gold watching the sun rise, I understood why he had insisted on this shoot-location. These were the fields of gold Sting had sung about... and I didn't even have to look into the viewfinder to appreciate what his director's eye must have visualised, even before we touched down in sydney.
Beauty doesn't begin to come close to what it looked like, out there in the flesh. The pictures he's posted on his blog... are beautiful in themselves, artfully taken and precisely framed... but to be there, in real life watching it all happen around you - indescribable.
He's the Blip.
3. Talking to our landlady at The Bunkhouse Motel and making sympathetic faces and patting her dog (a labrador with the saddest face imaginable) after he'd gotten mauled by an angry kangaroo... Iwas tempted to stitch him up - I could see that the laceration wasn't deep - and I offered to. In return, her husband brought us out to those fields of gold - that perfect place -- on which the Pervy Prince built his shots.
4. Our Male Lead Paul was simply priceless. It would take a blind man to realise just how much he did for us, and just how enthusiastic he became about the whole affair, after finding out it was all done pro-bono and out of goodwill for Sara. From driving our prop vehicle 900 km, to helping tirelessly to assist in creating those perfect on-screen candid moments : everything he did was far, far above and beyond what was required of himself. I only hope what we gave him in return was enough.
5. Our Sydneyside contacts, Jze and May were amazing too. Initially I'd imagined (company name removed) Sydney to be a full setup much like Tetanus's (company name removed) is - professionals working in a company to create corporate videos.
As I spoke to them I discovered that they were enthusiasts and had created one or two experimental videos on a handheld Super 8 camera... but that this was their first "big-budget" production with professional equipment. But watching Jze work, I saw a master producer in the making. He knew his role well, and tried to forsee problems before they arose, working tirelessly behind the scenes to keep things on-track, towards an eventual destination of success. That is what a producer does. Who knows, perhaps one day when I retire...
6. The Sydney Fish Market
I can't enthuse about this enough. Our one day of R&R was dominated by lunch at the fish market. Something like 30 oysters shared between three of us for forty bucks, and a huge slab of salmon sashimi for eight dollars... sitting in the shade of our table-umbrellas watching the sun come off the water, and a very insistent seagull performing a tightrope balancing feat just for us... everything in the world seemed all peace again.
7. Vamptress
Vamptress's role was "everyone's assistand" and she really was - helping each and every one of us out when she was needed to, even trying valiantly to combat the forces of nature and guide me back towards sydney central without the help of a map. And most importantly of all - keeping an even temper, despite having to molly coddle the whole childish lot of us, what with our stupid little inhouse temper tantrums and the inevitable cast / crew divide thingie.
Thank you for everything, vamptress.
*****
The Bad
1. The Budget
Still working on the numbers, but it came to a fair amount. Sitting down at the end of every night with my head in my hands trying to cut corners, and direct our budget towards - but not further - than my projected estimate was a nightmare. I began worry that things would spiral out of control. And all this was being funded - not by a company rolling in cash, but two slightly less than wealthy young individuals - myself, and blip. I began to realise that we didn't quite have the cash for a venture any larger than my initial estimates - and that if need be, every and anything else would have to be sacrificed : preserving only the integrity of the filming. This, I think is the headache of producer's around the world - staying within budget. I told myself - and sometimes Tetanus, and Jze at the end of each day that it would be worth it (more like "sigh, sigh. Nevermind, it will be worth it. sigh.) if we produced a thing of true beauty - which gave them something good out of it.
And I still believe it, in my heart. I can only pray that something good will come out of this, for everyone.
2. Evil Hotelliers
We discovered that the budget backpacker accomodation in Bega - wasn't really in Cooma - when we rolled into Cooma (the little truckstop village we called home for two days, to shoot the expressway and countryside scenes in) but a hundred kilometers away.
Considering it was two in the morning and nine degrees outside... well, you get the idea.
We wound up sleeping fitfully in our vehicles, and I can only thank everyone else for not holding it against me but putting a cheery face on it and telling me it helped to make the whole experience more memorable, more "road-trippy".
I rang the Bega man up for an explanation the next day, and he continued to maintain that Bega was really near the Monaro highway - as near as Cooma in fact, we just took the wrong route, that's all.
Strangely, looking at the map of new south wales, it didn't appear that way at all. Bega is south of Cooma. Cooma is south of Canberra, which is south of Sydney. The Monaro highway practically runs through Cooma....
3. Driving
I drove our mobile office around a fair bit, trying to find all-day parking, or our cast and crew at different times. It's tricky driving around an unfamiliar city - whilst I've been in sydney loads, I've never driven in it - and all the more so considering how most of the roads are one-way streets. I went wrong twice, once crossing the harbour bridge by accident trying to travel to our shoot location from our apartment - five minutes on foot, one hour by van - and once, crossing the harbour bridge again when trying to find that wonderful, wonderful parking bastion of motorists across Sydney - Star City (casino)
Ten dollars per six hours, instead of the CBD rate of twenty dolllars for the first hour, rising exponentially each subsequent hour.
4. Time
A single afternoon was all the notice Mr Producer had to come up with backpacker accomodation Sydneyside on day four, as well as procure a mazda five (ie, a sexy car) for the shoot.
It was insanely stressful, especially the bit involving finally managing to contact the sports car company and being told I had fifteen minutes to collect the car - which was in an entirely different part of the city.
The bit involving the UK credit card being steadfastedly rejected by the Ozzie cardreader wasn't fantastic either, nor the time spent gnawing my nails waiting for Jze to show up with his wonderful, wonderful australian visa card, whilst the sports car guy made nasty noises with his knuckles next to me, and muttered about having to stay past five...
I'm still wondering how it happened, but it did, and we had a lovely white car for the shoot in the end, somehow. Despite everything. Thanks be to God.
5. Time
A single day was all we really had to enjoy Sydney.
I remembered (after my first beer) just how wonderful Sydney was, and how much there was to see.... and our mad rush around it on the last day simply didn't do it justice.
We did well to visit the fish market, and wander around the rocks a little, and the CBD, winding up eventually at the opera house.
But how much more perfect it would have been, to have had another two days, to amble on the sands of Coogie bay watching the seagulls at sunset, or wander through the flocks of white cockatoos lining the grass of national botanic gardens like a large white blanket of sight and sound.
I miss Sydney, I truly do.
The Ugly
There are a few things I was tempted to write about when I reached home, and God knows I've been reminded about them all through yesterday - too much, I feel - but this isn't the place for them. Suffice to say that water always finds its own level, and the truth always becomes apparent in the end.
And to me, the truth has saddened me greatly.
shrug.
Nonetheless, it remains my sincere hope that something good comes out of all of this.
For Tetanus, for Sze, for May, for Vamptress, for Paul, and Sara as well.
Typically, I'd just come off an on-call. Perhaps it's age catching up with me, but each call seems to tire me out just a little more; being woken up for the umpteenth time after having just finally cleared everything and lying down for a bit of shut-eye (these days I cope by simply not sleeping. I've downloaded a little mindless computer game which I while away the breaking hours with - it almost gives me a little morbid satisfaction answering the nurse's telephone calls and disappointing them by sounding awake, instead of blearily exhausted. Ha. Didn't expect that, did you!
But each call leaves me feeling exhausted, nearly to the point of death.
It's not something I write or complain about; the solution is simple - go home and sleep.
Ah, but not that Sunday. That sunday sparked a memorable week of madness.
It'd take too long to run through, moment by moment - so here're some of the memories that I'll hold with me forever... or at least for a while more.
For the full story, either watch this space (if I can find the energy to write about it in detail) or go bug tetanus.
*****
The Good
1. Cascade Premium beer. I'd forgotten just how good Cascade was (although I did scour most of london searching for it, for several years) and it'd turned into an almost-myth in my mind, till the moment I put a mug of it to my lips.
The memories began to flood back - all of them - and suddenly I was in yesterdayland again, wandering across sydney with D, and visiting my elective Consultant, David, and my registrar... all the places I walked to on my own rose unbidden to mind. It was like perusing a thousand-page photo-album in half a second. The Rocks, Manly beach, Coogie, Bondi, The CBD, The North Shore, the RNSH, the stupid little fairground on the north shore.
Ah, the power of Beer.
2. Fields of Gold. Our director, Tetanus has a gift for his art. As we stood in fields of liquid gold watching the sun rise, I understood why he had insisted on this shoot-location. These were the fields of gold Sting had sung about... and I didn't even have to look into the viewfinder to appreciate what his director's eye must have visualised, even before we touched down in sydney.
Beauty doesn't begin to come close to what it looked like, out there in the flesh. The pictures he's posted on his blog... are beautiful in themselves, artfully taken and precisely framed... but to be there, in real life watching it all happen around you - indescribable.
He's the Blip.
3. Talking to our landlady at The Bunkhouse Motel and making sympathetic faces and patting her dog (a labrador with the saddest face imaginable) after he'd gotten mauled by an angry kangaroo... Iwas tempted to stitch him up - I could see that the laceration wasn't deep - and I offered to. In return, her husband brought us out to those fields of gold - that perfect place -- on which the Pervy Prince built his shots.
4. Our Male Lead Paul was simply priceless. It would take a blind man to realise just how much he did for us, and just how enthusiastic he became about the whole affair, after finding out it was all done pro-bono and out of goodwill for Sara. From driving our prop vehicle 900 km, to helping tirelessly to assist in creating those perfect on-screen candid moments : everything he did was far, far above and beyond what was required of himself. I only hope what we gave him in return was enough.
5. Our Sydneyside contacts, Jze and May were amazing too. Initially I'd imagined (company name removed) Sydney to be a full setup much like Tetanus's (company name removed) is - professionals working in a company to create corporate videos.
As I spoke to them I discovered that they were enthusiasts and had created one or two experimental videos on a handheld Super 8 camera... but that this was their first "big-budget" production with professional equipment. But watching Jze work, I saw a master producer in the making. He knew his role well, and tried to forsee problems before they arose, working tirelessly behind the scenes to keep things on-track, towards an eventual destination of success. That is what a producer does. Who knows, perhaps one day when I retire...
6. The Sydney Fish Market
I can't enthuse about this enough. Our one day of R&R was dominated by lunch at the fish market. Something like 30 oysters shared between three of us for forty bucks, and a huge slab of salmon sashimi for eight dollars... sitting in the shade of our table-umbrellas watching the sun come off the water, and a very insistent seagull performing a tightrope balancing feat just for us... everything in the world seemed all peace again.
7. Vamptress
Vamptress's role was "everyone's assistand" and she really was - helping each and every one of us out when she was needed to, even trying valiantly to combat the forces of nature and guide me back towards sydney central without the help of a map. And most importantly of all - keeping an even temper, despite having to molly coddle the whole childish lot of us, what with our stupid little inhouse temper tantrums and the inevitable cast / crew divide thingie.
Thank you for everything, vamptress.
*****
The Bad
1. The Budget
Still working on the numbers, but it came to a fair amount. Sitting down at the end of every night with my head in my hands trying to cut corners, and direct our budget towards - but not further - than my projected estimate was a nightmare. I began worry that things would spiral out of control. And all this was being funded - not by a company rolling in cash, but two slightly less than wealthy young individuals - myself, and blip. I began to realise that we didn't quite have the cash for a venture any larger than my initial estimates - and that if need be, every and anything else would have to be sacrificed : preserving only the integrity of the filming. This, I think is the headache of producer's around the world - staying within budget. I told myself - and sometimes Tetanus, and Jze at the end of each day that it would be worth it (more like "sigh, sigh. Nevermind, it will be worth it. sigh.) if we produced a thing of true beauty - which gave them something good out of it.
And I still believe it, in my heart. I can only pray that something good will come out of this, for everyone.
2. Evil Hotelliers
We discovered that the budget backpacker accomodation in Bega - wasn't really in Cooma - when we rolled into Cooma (the little truckstop village we called home for two days, to shoot the expressway and countryside scenes in) but a hundred kilometers away.
Considering it was two in the morning and nine degrees outside... well, you get the idea.
We wound up sleeping fitfully in our vehicles, and I can only thank everyone else for not holding it against me but putting a cheery face on it and telling me it helped to make the whole experience more memorable, more "road-trippy".
I rang the Bega man up for an explanation the next day, and he continued to maintain that Bega was really near the Monaro highway - as near as Cooma in fact, we just took the wrong route, that's all.
Strangely, looking at the map of new south wales, it didn't appear that way at all. Bega is south of Cooma. Cooma is south of Canberra, which is south of Sydney. The Monaro highway practically runs through Cooma....
3. Driving
I drove our mobile office around a fair bit, trying to find all-day parking, or our cast and crew at different times. It's tricky driving around an unfamiliar city - whilst I've been in sydney loads, I've never driven in it - and all the more so considering how most of the roads are one-way streets. I went wrong twice, once crossing the harbour bridge by accident trying to travel to our shoot location from our apartment - five minutes on foot, one hour by van - and once, crossing the harbour bridge again when trying to find that wonderful, wonderful parking bastion of motorists across Sydney - Star City (casino)
Ten dollars per six hours, instead of the CBD rate of twenty dolllars for the first hour, rising exponentially each subsequent hour.
4. Time
A single afternoon was all the notice Mr Producer had to come up with backpacker accomodation Sydneyside on day four, as well as procure a mazda five (ie, a sexy car) for the shoot.
It was insanely stressful, especially the bit involving finally managing to contact the sports car company and being told I had fifteen minutes to collect the car - which was in an entirely different part of the city.
The bit involving the UK credit card being steadfastedly rejected by the Ozzie cardreader wasn't fantastic either, nor the time spent gnawing my nails waiting for Jze to show up with his wonderful, wonderful australian visa card, whilst the sports car guy made nasty noises with his knuckles next to me, and muttered about having to stay past five...
I'm still wondering how it happened, but it did, and we had a lovely white car for the shoot in the end, somehow. Despite everything. Thanks be to God.
5. Time
A single day was all we really had to enjoy Sydney.
I remembered (after my first beer) just how wonderful Sydney was, and how much there was to see.... and our mad rush around it on the last day simply didn't do it justice.
We did well to visit the fish market, and wander around the rocks a little, and the CBD, winding up eventually at the opera house.
But how much more perfect it would have been, to have had another two days, to amble on the sands of Coogie bay watching the seagulls at sunset, or wander through the flocks of white cockatoos lining the grass of national botanic gardens like a large white blanket of sight and sound.
I miss Sydney, I truly do.
The Ugly
There are a few things I was tempted to write about when I reached home, and God knows I've been reminded about them all through yesterday - too much, I feel - but this isn't the place for them. Suffice to say that water always finds its own level, and the truth always becomes apparent in the end.
And to me, the truth has saddened me greatly.
shrug.
Nonetheless, it remains my sincere hope that something good comes out of all of this.
For Tetanus, for Sze, for May, for Vamptress, for Paul, and Sara as well.
