I find myself driving a van at seven in the morning transporting crew and equipment up to horse country in West Chester (New York). Thom has once again sweet-talked me into helping out even after I told him I don’t DO early. On the drive up I realized that this is the twenty-seventh day of the thirty day shoot. There are only three more production days left and the whole thing will be over. I’m not sure I’m ready for that. A kind of melancholy takes over me knowing that the fun-filled days will soon come to an end. And then I think about real crew people and how they feel when a project is over. My guess is that they usually (hopefully) hop from one project to another and treat it like a job. Sometimes the jobs are good and fun and at other times a challenge with conflicting personalities and high tension. I remember reading in a movie magazine, Moviemaker, I think, that Ang Lee goes into a light depression after each project. And most definitely after making The Hulk. He has directed such diverse films as Eat, Drink, Man, Woman, Sense and Sensibility, Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon and Brokeback Mountain for which he won the academy for Best Director. So I wonder how our director feels about this project transitioning from production to post. I’ll come back to this question in a bit. We arrive at a friend of a friend’s farm. It’s not a working farm but a horse farm and Whit has donned his usual black wool suit, top coat and hat. I ask him if he’s ready to saddle up.
“Sure. I’ve been riding since I was eight years old.” He says. I’m a bit stunned.
“You give the impression of a slacker or a surfer.” I say.
“Yeah, I know. I don’t do either. I’d like to surf. But the Atlantic is too cold for me.” He adds. Man up, I’m thinking to myself. But, alas, I have a little padding so the cold doesn’t quite affect me.
“I can tell you think I have robin’s eggs for a change purse.” He says smiling and he gives me his charming ‘stink eye’. John, the owner of the horse walks this beautiful equine specimen out into the sunlight. I am told she is a racking horse. For those people interested in horses a racking horse has a very comfortable singlefoot gate. They are like riding a Cadillac. These horses along with their superior version, the Tennessee Walking horse, were bread for the masters on the large plantations down South before the Civil War when cotton was king. Being in the saddle for eight to twelve hours a day surveying your business can make a body sore! Most people who take a horse back ride usually get on a quarter horse or a mixed breed of that nature and their gate is very bumpy and extremely uncomfortable. John tells me her name is ‘Shadow’ and she is an inky velvet black in the sunlight. Whit mounts and takes her to the far end of the pasture along the treeline. At the turn around he gives her a click and gentle kick and she is off so fast she’s a blur. He rides by at a full gallop so fast that I feel like Jack the Ripper has hijacked Sea Biscuit. Then as I am about to turn and follow I watch as Whit gets Shadow to jump the fence and run up the road. Okay, I have to admit he has cohones. Thom tells me the original shot was with a car mount but since the owner did not want tire tracks in his field we had to settle for sticks. Unfortunate, as riding along side Whit on horseback with the camera would have been incredibly dramatic. The road had too many anachronisms.
Meanwhile back at the set the art department has dressed the bedroom as Richard’s studio and the lovely Sandra DeLuca reappears in her Victorian finery as Sophie. She has become one of Catherine’s ‘playthings’. Interested in Richard and particularly a portrait by him she has arrived for a sitting that could very well turn into a laying. The chemistry between the two actors is electric and they play off of each other with great aplomb. As Richard and Sophie are about to take the sitting to the next level the bell rings. It is Mrs. Hopkins, Victoria’s head Governess. She has arrived with a note---the very thing Richard has been waiting and pining for. Suddenly he shuffles Sophie out with only a few words of consolation. Thus begins his daylong ride to the English countryside. As the crew sets up the dolly for the next shot I take advantage of the downtown and see if I can snag the director for a few minutes.
“Only three days left. How do you feel?” I ask.
“I’m ready to be able to relax, that’s for sure.” She replies. “But…I know on the last film I did, that after I recovered from the exhausting shooting schedule there is a definite post-partum feeling.”
“I’m already feeling it and I’m just a spectator.” I reply. “So how do you deal with it?”
“You know, I’m not sure. I think that the older I get the more I have to ease myself from one transition to another.” She explains.
“That sounds mentally healthy.” I say.
“Well it was trial and error for me because on my last film I finished shooting and I was so excited about putting it together that I immediately began the editing process. I foolishly thought that if I kept busy I wouldn’t feel the sadness that comes when something is over.” She says.
“Sounds pre-meditated to me---like you had an antidote.” I add.
“Naw, I think it exacerbated the emotions, the let down.” She says. “Because as an indie filmmaker you have to wear several hats. And so sitting in a dark room by myself for days on end watching the footage and cutting it into something made me yearn for the social, physical activity of production. I fervently missed everyone so much---I missed the process.” She says.
“Yeah, but you still had access to those people, right? They were your friends as well as collaborators.” I say.
“Sure. I could get any one of them on the phone or have lunch but it’s not the same. You’re deeply involved in a creative atmosphere---and I say that not to diminish the importance and gratitude I have for the people in my life. But having lunch is different than creating something together.” She explains. “It’s greater than the sum of the individuals.”
“Point taken.” I reply.
“I was at a party not long ago and I had the opportunity to meet and chat with another director. It was such an epiphany for me. I thought I was just super sensitive or even unbalanced because of the rough emotions I went through after the first feature. But this director, another woman by the way, experienced the exact thing I had experienced and so I didn’t feel alone or ashamed or inadequate as a person anymore.” She adds.
“That’s great.” I say and I’m sure my face betrayed my bewilderment.
“It’s very similar to a break up. It really is. My last film took six months to shoot. I was emotionally involved for six months with all the actors and the creatives and it was such a rush---so much fun and hard work, too. We met a lot of people and made a lot of new friends along the way. Then when principal photography was over everything feels like it grinds to a halt. You don’t see anyone anymore because you are busy in post trying to deliver a finished product in a timely way to pay the people back. Everyone else has scattered to other projects. So here you are watching all the memories of that wonderful six months in time. It’s like looking at old photographs of past boyfriends or ex-husbands or babies that have grown up. You forget about the pain or the disagreements or the extreme physical fatigue and something in the human brain makes one yearn for something intangible and fleeting.”
“But it isn’t intangible. It’s fixed in the finished film.” I reply.
“True.” She says. “And that is what makes it all worth while when you can see and share what you’ve accomplished together with the ones you love.”
“I guess what they say is true. Absence makes the heart grow fonder.” I add.
“Living proof.” She says and she is off to work on the scene.
Posts
