Payin’ Your Dues: Film Love is Like a Hurricane

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We’ve all paid our dues working up the ranks in the film industry. Veterans in the biz could talk about being a gofer for a second or third rate celebrity diva, acting as a kid or dog wrangler, and of course, getting screamed at by an assistant director with delusions of Godhood, just because they could. 

How about shooting outside at night during a hurricane, being up a ladder holding a fake brick wall with one hand, a light in the other, while being pelted by rain and wind?

It was the Thursday night before Thanksgiving, during my final year of college, while I was on field placement at the Canadian Film Centre. The CFC was founded by Norman Jewison in 1988, designed for the next generation of filmmakers to hone its craft, and to give these young talents an extra push in their careers. 

For my internship I reported to the centre’s Technical Coordinator. My duties included helping out in video dubbing, film projecting (a post worthy of its own shortly), assembling production packages, and working in various capacities on their film and video shoots. At the time in which our tale takes place, there were ten short narrative videos being made over a couple of weeks – one for each director on residence, two different productions being made at one time, each production scheduled for two ten-hour shooting days. 

The night’s excursion was the second day of a suspense thriller. The first ten hours (Wednesday. INT. Day.) were spent filming in a beautiful townhouse around Casa Loma, for the wraparound story. The next ten hours were for the action scenes, scheduled for Thursday EXT. Night. The producer had forewarned us to dress warmly because of the weather. 

That weather? Hurricane Opal.

You can Google pictures of the devastation left in the wake of the storm, which touched down in the southern states in October of 1995. Still, this disturbance was massive enough to make its way to the Great White North. Everyone knew it was coming. The producer had even asked to push the date, but someone in charge said ‘nope’ and the shoot went as planned.

CFC productions consisted of mostly borrowed equipment and volunteer crew, except perhaps a paid position for a production coordinator who oversaw all the ten shoots (and likely the one who urged them to proceed with the shoot that night). However, people would happily donate their time and facilities for their resumés and for the experience, which offered further steps in their careers. They all earned their credits this night.

The brick wall, you ask? Oh yes. The night shoot was actually in the front yard and half-circle driveway of the CFC building. The fake “brick wall” was erected at the driveway entrance. The camera pointed to Bayview Avenue, with passing traffic in the background adding to the illusion that we were seeing a wall in an alleyway off of a city street. This camera trickery was further disguised in its black-and-white photography. We’d take turns climbing the ladder to hold the wall and the overhead fill light in place while the rain teemed down on us. The next big set up was among the huge conifers in the front yard, subbing for a forest, which was the setting for the big fight later in the script. 

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Amidst the efforts of “getting it in the can”, as it were, we in the crew ran around with garbage bags over our clothes to protect us from the rain (but truthfully, I think made us wetter), occasionally looking up to the big swaying silhouetted trees against the grey sky, wondering if they were going to come down on us.

An unwritten law of production is that a well-fed crew is a happy crew. Don’t jerk them off by just giving them a baloney sandwich and a pickle. Show your gratitude, and they’ll do nearly anything to get what you want on camera. So for “lunch”, we were treated to some nice and hot canneloni at 2AM, while we let our garbage bags dry off a bit. After that, we braved the elements for a few more hours until the director, DP and the lead actor went off to do some interior stuff in a car, while the rest of us wrapped up the gear from the front yard. It’s normal for about 10% of rented gear to get missplaced or damaged on a shoot. In spite of the weather conditions and working in near darkness, the only equipment that went missing this night was a clip! That was dedication.

Once we officially wrapped, it was still dark out, although the rain had ended. Buses hadn’t began running for the day, so I called a taxi to go from Bayview and Lawrence to Pape and Danforth. I went to an ATM so I could pay the driver, and then walked home from there. By then, the morning sky had enough of a dull overcast glow so that I could see the results of the hurricane. 

I’ll never forget this image. Woodycrest Avenue and the sidewalks were covered with twigs that had broken off of the trees that lined the streets. 

Once I got home I peeled off the two layers of clothing that were still damp (so much for Glad protecting us from the elements), wrapped myself in my beatnik white afghan and went to sleep. (I still have that afghan, only it’s more grey and faded… just like me.) 

I woke up late afternoon. Had the sun set already? I can’t remember. I do recall waking up still chilly, and feeling like a truck hit me. What was there to do, but simply slug some coffee, take a hot shower, put on some clean clothes, and do it all over again? That was show biz.

I cabbed it back up to the CFC for another night shoot Friday. INT. Night. This was the start of another director’s two-day production, which was being filmed in the centre’s dining hall. The crew included a couple of guys from the previous night! (That was show biz.) If memory serves, I was filling in before the Technical Coordinator arrived for the rest of the shoot. Once he got there, and they had first shot, I was excused for the night.

We’ve all been on shoots that were bad because of insufficient funds or crew, but dealing with Mother Nature is something else. After over 20 years of being on set, this night still qualifies as the worst shoot I was ever on, just because of the weather. But was it worth the effort? Well, yes. 

To be fair, the elements enhanced the mood of the piece. All that rain looked great on camera. A few weeks later, the director and producer invited the cast and crew for a premiere of the movie in the deluxe screening room, with food and cocktails to boot, so they could see the rewards of their efforts. (Again, show your gratitude.)

In addition to getting another credit on a resumé, another perc of being a volunteer crew was that the CFC had name value, and had legs. Their shorts would play in festivals worldwide. In other words, one’s efforts got seen!

These video shoots were testing grounds for who in residency would go on to do one of the six prestigious short films to be shot in the new year. Sadly, these ten videos would only be viewed within the halls of the centre, except perhaps in snippets for demo reels. In truth, many of these finished videos were better than a lot of their earlier celluloid projects, and deserved more than their fate of lining a shelf of chromium dioxide. 

Still, this production was an experience I’ll remember for all time. Would I do it all again? Probably. A fringe benefit (other than the canneloni) was that I became good buddies with others who defied the elements that night. I’m thinking back to these days because it’s on an anniversary with a zero, but I’m also tantalized by the mystery of what could’ve unfolded if my life hadn’t taken a ninety degree angle in the coming months, away from this world? Would we have collaborated creatively on something big? Another unwritten law of production is its transience. How many set ups and faces get forgotten as people depart for another call sheet? Still, I hope that sometimes they too think back to this crazy night, remember the camaraderie, and like me, chuckle in amazement that we made it.