Disaster Productions

by Brian Bakos

  “I should go with her,” Duals says.

  Lauren takes his arm.

  “Let her cool off for a while, Stephan,” she says.

  32: The Grandpa Issue

  So, the first day of filming is over. Things might have gone worse, I suppose. At least it wasn’t me flopping around in the pond. We’d lost Kaitlyn, our assistant director, though, and we hadn’t been able to finish all the shots.

  Tomorrow, we’ll have to film the remaining outdoor scenes in the ‘back lot,’ meaning Grandpa’s yard. This will cramp our style, but it can be done, according to Duals.

  We’ll also film a couple indoor scenes with Tamika at the studio, plus the green screen work so as to get a ‘surreal effect’ for the final battle. If we can just hold things together for another day, then it will be good-bye to Tamika and all her associated drama.

  I wonder what Grandpa would think of our efforts so far – I believe he’d be impressed, or at least surprised. Speaking of Grandpa, how about watching the Costa Rica video again?

  Mom is out when I return home, so Dad gets a private showing of the video and the still photos. We enjoy some laughs, especially about the giant sloth and the machete.

  Then Mom comes home, and I show her the video. There is no laughter this time.

  I thought she’d be pleased about Grandpa’s mission work. I mean, it looks like hard labor out in the tropical heat – and he’s donated money to get on the crew. That should count for something, right? But Mom just stares at the video with this tight-lipped, disapproving expression on her face.

  “What’s the matter, Mom?”

  She shakes her head.

  “What’s he going to do next?” she says. “He’s getting a bit old to be running all over the world.”

  We haven’t even got to the giant sloth part, but Mom is already turning to leave. I can’t stop my true feelings from spilling out.

  “I think you’re being very unfair about Grandpa,” I say.

  Mom turns a surprised expression toward me. “What?”

  “He’s fun, he’s generous, and he loves us ... but you won’t love him back,” I blurt out.

  I can’t tell what Mom is going to do next. Will she begin yelling, will she try to smack me for the first time in years, will she call Dad? I plow ahead.

  “My friend, Randy – his father was killed serving with the Marines,” I say. “Now he has to grow up without a dad. You’ve still got yours, and you don’t care!”

  A whole bunch of emotions play across her face – from outrage to shock to anger, to something like fear. I’m getting choked up myself. I prepare to dodge any slaps coming my way. Whatever else happens, I am not going accept punishment for speaking the truth.

  But Mom just stares at me. A tear rolls from one of her eyes. She leaves my room, slamming the door behind her.

  “We think it’s a giant tree sloth,” my laptop is saying. “If not, then we don’t want to know what it is.”

  I switch the thing off.

  “Well, Matt, you handled that just great,” I mutter.

  It does feel good to get the Grandpa issue off my chest, though. I call Lauren next.

  “Hey, I’m really sorry about the trouble at the park today,” I say.

  “It’s not your fault,” Lauren says. “Those girls should know better than to act like that.”

  “We only need to hold things together for one more day at the studio,” I say, “then we’ll be rid of them.”

  “Have you thought that maybe you’re too nice sometimes?” Lauren says.

  This remark hits home, illuminating my situation like a lightning flash. I move my phone from my ear and just stare at it for a few seconds.

  Yeah ... why am I always being so nice? Why do I have this feeling that I have to please everybody, as if all opinions are important as long as they aren’t my own?

  Who’s in charge of Studio Duals anyway – me or Tamika Boeing and her clique? Okay, I owe her, and I’m willing to pay up. But that doesn’t mean she can walk all over me with spiked heels – making last second cast changes, driving away our assistant director. I might not be Matt the Man yet, but that doesn’t mean I have to be Matt the Doormat.

  “You still there?” Lauren asks.

  “Yeah,” I say. “Tomorrow I’ll tell everyone I’m cancelling the project if there are any more problems.”

  “I think that’s a good idea,” Lauren says.

  I’m pleased with Lauren’s attitude, her calm way of talking. With all the theatrics going on today, it’s great to hear a more mature voice.

  “Do you want me to come tomorrow?” Lauren asks.

  “The afternoon would be cool, if you can make it,” I say. “We’re not doing sound in the morning.”

  “Is one o’clock okay?”

  “Sure – if the project is still going,” I say. “I’ll call if we’ve pulled the plug on it.”

  The conversation ends on a friendly note. Wow! Maybe it really is possible to have a healthy relationship with a member of the female sex. One that’s not based on stupidity and power struggles.

  In my mind, I fast forwarded through the high school years – me and Lauren attending football games, dancing at the prom, going to movies, making movies ....

  33: Laying Down the Law

  The next day is dark and overcast with an on again / off again light rain. Not the sort of day for running around in the woods, so it’s just as well we’ll be shooting the remaining scenes at Studio Duals. First thing after I get there, I draw people aside for private conferences.

  Trace is first to meet the new, assertive Matt.

  “You need to drop the slut routine,” I say. “Anyone can see that you’re hot, but you’re throwing it around like it means nothing.”

  She looks at me with this amazed expression.

  “You’re complicating everything,” I say. “It stops now, or you’re off the project.”

  A shocked pause, then:

  “All right, Freshie,” Trace says.

  “And my name’s Matt, okay?”

  “Okay ... Matt.”

  Then it’s Duals’ turn. He tries to get off the first word.

  “I’m not sure we should finish this movie,” he says. “Kaitlyn is really mad at Tamika and she’ll be mad at me if I go on.”

  I shake my head.

  “We made a commitment, Duals. If everyone plays straight with us, we have to see it through. Nobody will respect us otherwise.”

  “Yeah, but – ”

  “I’ve known you since Kindergarten,” I say. “In some ways, you’re almost like a brother, especially since I don’t have a real one. But I can’t be involved in your social traumas. If you’ve got a problem with Kaitlyn, or Rex, or whoever, leave me out of it, okay?”

  He gives me this wide-eyed look, like Trace did. I’m starting to get used to it.

  “Okay, Matt ... that’s cool.”

  Another long pause, then:

  “Are we still friends?” Duals asks.

  “Of course we are.”

  I smack a low five with him.

  “So, are you in or out?” I say.

  “In!”

  And finally Tamika.

  “You might be queen bee with your clique,” I say, “but here, I’m in charge. So leave the power games at home.”

  She gives me a dark and murderous look, but I’m not about to back down.

  “I’m pulling the plug on this whole thing if people won’t cooperate, got it?” I say.

  I’m ready to throw her out, along with her dog, and she knows it.

  “Got it,” she says.

  ***

  After this, things run very smoothly. Nobody stomps out, there are no more catty remarks or other nasty situations. Trace keeps her libido under control. Everything is strictly business.

  I’d have to admit that there’s a temptation to become a dictator – order people around, assert my authority – but I fight against it. Where would I be if eve
ryone walks out? How can I advance my great ideas if nobody is willing to help?

  Above all else, I can’t afford to lose Duals. He’s my absolute key ally, whatever the issues are that need to be ironed out between us. Without help from Duals, Matt the Man will have a difficult time seeing the light of day. And without me, Duals will have a hard time rising to whatever level he’s aiming for.

  We both know that.

  Things beyond my experience level are going on here. I need somebody older and wiser to guide me ... Grandpa. But for now, I’ll just have to play it as cool as possible. The fear I’ve created in the others only has to last one day, then I can sort things out.

  34: Studio Shoot

  Things still seem to be okay with Duals, fortunately. After some initial cold aloofness, he begins warming to our creative endeavor.

  First thing today, we’ll be shooting the final battle sequence between the two girls for the affections of the magical dog. This is the most technical part of the whole movie.

  “This is gonna be great!” Duals says as we move the green screen into the basement. “I’ve downloaded some amazing clips.”

  The idea is that we’ll shoot the talent in front of the green screen. Then, on the computer, Duals will replace the green background with incredible visual effects.

  I don’t know beans about editing and am happy to let Duals handle this – besides, his ego must be bruised by the talking to I gave him, and this will be a good way to build it up again.

  I’m starting to feel new enthusiasm for our project. Maybe this movie isn’t going to suck nearly as bad as I thought.

  We spend the whole morning in the basement. First we set up the green screen, the camera, and the hot tungsten lights. Then Tamika acts her part – running in place, calling for the dog, struggling with the evil Skagg character.

  She’s pretty convincing, actually. Her high opinion of her acting ability does not seem to be unfounded. Hey, she conned those college guys into giving her the camera, didn’t she?

  Later, we’ll have an ADR session where we’ll record the characters’ voices. In post production, Duals will mix everything together with sound effects on the computer.

  We do numerous takes in front of the green screen. People get tired, nerves get frayed, but everyone holds together. Meanwhile, Raspberry stays in the back yard while Dylan keeps an eye on him.

  I’ve left the garage door open in case they have to retreat from the rain. I hope that isn’t a mistake. When Dylan saw Grandpa’s workbench with its gleaming array of power tools, his eyes lit up.

  “Please, please, don’t touch anything!” I tell him. “Grandpa would kill me if anything happens.”

  “You’ve got my word on that,” Dylan says.

  I hope fervently that he’s speaking the truth, that his curiosity won’t get the better of him – again.

  Occasionally we can hear the dog barking, but it doesn’t matter. We are filming MOS, “mit out sound” in movie-making lingo. Besides, maybe Raspberry is guarding the tool bench and warning off Dylan.

  We break at twelve thirty and call for pizza. Lauren arrives at one, just as the pizza guy delivers.

  “Good timing, Lauren,” I say. “Pepperoni or vegetarian?”

  “Pepperoni,” she says.

  I’m liking her more all the time. Tamika is the only one eating vegetarian. Broccoli on pizza – weird! Trace walks up to us.

  “Hi, Lauren, how’s it going?” she says.

  “Fine,” Lauren replies cautiously.

  “That’s good,” Trace says.

  Then she keeps out of our way, which is exactly what I want.

  ***

  After lunch, we set up the shots in the living room. The two scenes are very simple, just Tamika sitting in the easy chair blabbing on the phone. Since the scenes are supposed to be taking place on different days, all she has to do is change outfits.

  I’d hoped we could bang through the scenes quickly, but the weather isn’t cooperating. Outside is still dark and gloomy, so our northern exposure natural light isn’t an option.

  We set up two of the tungsten light units, then we have to move them around to avoid throwing awkward shadows. Bill and Gerry do the grunt work.

  “Man, these things are hot!” they complain.

  Especially the 1000 watt unit. Bill and Gerry have to wear gloves to protect their hands from getting burned. The air conditioning kicks on more frequently. We experiment with lighting unit position, with various reflector boards, with light-reducing scrims.

  “I hope we don’t blow the circuit breakers,” I say.

  “All part of the creative process,” Duals says.

  “Grandpa’s going to wonder about the electric bill,” I say. “Maybe we should have gone for those LED units.”

  “Don’t worry about a thing,” Duals says. “He’s going to love this movie – trust me.”

  Finally, the lighting setup meets Duals’ expectations. The actual filming is done quickly, with me operating the camera on the sticks. Lauren and Gerry work sound. We are coming together petty good as a team.

  Afterwards, Tamika runs off to the bathroom to change her outfit again.

  Duals consults the shooting script.

  “We need to film a couple of scenes in the backyard,” he says. “We’ll recreate some of the Tamika / Skagg battle to cut in with the green screen shots. Then there’s the romantic closing scene where Tamika kisses Raspberry and he turns into Dylan.”

  “Sounds good,” I say.

  “Then we’ve got the ADR session and we’re all done with production,” Duals says. “We can knock that off first thing tomorrow.”

  “Sounds good,” I say.

  Exhaustion is creeping up on me. More than anything, I want this project to be over. I want the whole Tamika / Trace thing to be over. I want to explore my Lauren possibilities and begin shooting my own movie. I want Matt the Man to emerge from the shadows.

  Tamika emerges from the bathroom in her outdoor clothes.

  “Ready to redo the fight scene in the backyard?” Duals asks.

  “Sure,” Tamika says. “Raspberry has to come indoors, though. If he sees us fighting he’ll bark and try to break it up.”

  “Right.” Duals turns toward me. “Want to do the hand-held work, Matt?”

  “Sounds good,” I say.

  I grab the camera off the sticks and head to the backyard with Duals.

  “Let’s get this over quick,” I say, “before it starts raining again.”

  “That’s the plan,” Duals says.

  Dylan approaches.

  “When are we going to do my scene?”

  “We’ll get to that next,” Duals says. “For now, Raspberry has to go inside. Put him in the basement, okay?”

  “Be sure to hook the basement door,” I say. “He can shove it open otherwise.”

  “Got it, Matt,” Dylan says.

  He brings the dog inside, then comes back out alone to watch the shoot. Everyone else moves off to the edges – no sound or light crew required this time, just me and the talent.

  “Action!” Duals calls.

  Trace and Tamika redo their earlier struggle from the green screen. This time, they go at it with more venom – screaming, pulling hair, rolling on the ground. As they battle, I move around them with the camera. No smooth rolling Steadicam now, but jerky, hectic fierceness.

  I’m digging it!

  The level of violence increases, I think they’ll be coming to actual blows any second. I move in to get close ups of their snarling faces. I catch a kick on my shin, but keep on filming through the pain.

  Something clicks in my mind. It’s as if I’ve finally entered my new reality where I am Director of the World. All my loose and scattered potentialities are suddenly working together. I’m firing on all cylinders at last! Nobody will ever call me a tackhead again or tell me to “giddy up” myself out of the way.

  The scene rolls on and on, in one continuous take. It has hea
ted, violent energy. The low battery warning pops on in the monitor. Just a little more ...

  “Cut!” Duals finally yells.

  I switch off the camera. My personal energy seems to shut down with it, and I sag with exhaustion. The girls get back unsteadily to their feet. They have these stunned looks as they transition from their characters back into their real selves.

  I know I’ve gotten some great footage. I’ve done everything right for once – if only Grandpa had been here to see me! I’ve taken a giant leap toward becoming Matt the Man.

  All seems perfect with the world, then ...

  35: Catastrophe

  Frantic barking comes from inside the house. Raspberry is throwing himself against the back door.

  “Raspberry!” Tamika cries.

  She rushes to the door and flings it wide open. Raspberry comes barreling out like a cannon shot, followed by a billow of smoke. I see the panicked dog coming straight at me – things seem to be going in slow motion, like a nightmare. I can’t get out of the way. Raspberry bears down, he slams into me.

  It’s like being hit by a moving Rock of Gibraltar. The camera flies out of my hands as I tumble over on the grass. I see it arch high in the air, hang for a moment, then come smashing down on the driveway with a sickening crack!

  Pieces fly off the camera as it bounces on the pavement. Then it lies still, like a murdered animal.

  No time to think about it, though. There’s a fire in the house!

  I struggle up, run into the garage, and snatch the chemical extinguisher off Grandpa’s workbench.

  “Get the hose, Duals!” I yell. “Everybody else stay outside!”

  I take a deep breath and run into the house alone, fighting my way through the smoke to the living room. I crash into the coffee table. The impact must hurt my legs, but I can’t afford to notice.

  The hot tungsten light unit is leaning against the picture window. The curtains are burning, and the flames have moved along the walls, igniting the wood paneling. They’re also moving along to the throw rug.

  Raspberry must have knocked over the light. He got up here somehow!

  The fire extinguisher roars in my hands, sending a smothering blast onto the flames. The fire begins to retreat. The light unit shorts out. My eyes burn, my lungs feel ready to burst. I have to breathe! A torrent of water hits me in the back.

  “I’ve got it!” Duals yells.

  I squeeze off a final blast from the extinguisher then retreat to the front door. I fling it wide open and stumble onto the porch. A cloud of smoke follows me out like an evil genie. I suck in a lungful of glorious air.