Friday, April 25, 2014
Lasers
It's been a while, guys. I'm sorry. I've just had so much going on and to be quite honest, the whole Sarah Jones situation just kind of took the interest out of it for me. But, I'm here now and a post was suggested to me by my Best Boy the other day that got me thinking. I was slated to start a movie a while back. It was a huge (I mean really big) studio movie and the DP had some reservations, having not worked with me before. I got a call from the operator who said that they had not been particularly pleased with their last two dolly grips and he asked if I could possibly use a laser on crane shots. I'm a strict sightline guy. I have no time for looking down at laser marks when I'm swinging a crane arm (especially a Technocrane) around. I've done it the same way for over twenty years and I've done fine. Being the upstanding, set-in-my-ways dolly grip that I am, I said "absolutely," (Hey, I've got a daughter starting at Florida State). I tried it for about three days and then abandoned it and you know what? The DP didn't notice. Guys, sightlines work. You can't watch actors and camera while you are swooping around and also glance down at a laser mark on the ground. Trust yourself. Use the Force. If you have any sense at all of where the camera should be, you don't need them, If you don't have a sense of where the camera should be then it's time to develop it. Lasers, while they have their place and are a tool in your toolkit, can become a crutch. Let them go. Plus, they just show everyone how far off the mark you are. The Captain has spoken.
Saturday, April 05, 2014
Fisher Open House
It's that time of year again. Every year JL Fisher hosts an open house at their facility at 1000 W Isabel St in Burbank. It's a great time to meet with old friends and make new ones over barbeque and beer (Beer!). It's one of the few days that is set aside for Dolly Grips alone. They put on a great event and really pull out all the stops. Please try to attend this year. It's on May 17th from 9AM until 4PM. You won't regret it. Tell Frank I said Hi!
Wednesday, March 05, 2014
Update
Thank you to all who have sent their slates in to Slates for Sarah. You are now part of an industry-wide movement that has covered the globe in just a few days. Together, we can ensure that Sarah's death wasn't in vain. Let's keep it going.
I attended a Celebration of Sarah's Life last Sunday, organized by Local 600. The room was packed. Grips, Camera people, electricians, and others from all departments of the industry, along with her family, there to pay their respects. The love for her was palpable.The sense of togetherness and resolve in the room was something I have never seen in my twenty-five years in the film industry. Slate pictures continue to pour in from around the world. We all stand together and say, "Never forget, never again." If you wish to be a part of this, please visit pledgetosarah.org and take the pledge. They aren't going to look out for us. We have to look out for each other.
While you're at it, visit my friends at Stop and Care.
I will return with another post shortly. I'm working long days and with everything going on it didn't seem right to return to business as usual. Thanks again.
We miss you, Sarah.....
I attended a Celebration of Sarah's Life last Sunday, organized by Local 600. The room was packed. Grips, Camera people, electricians, and others from all departments of the industry, along with her family, there to pay their respects. The love for her was palpable.The sense of togetherness and resolve in the room was something I have never seen in my twenty-five years in the film industry. Slate pictures continue to pour in from around the world. We all stand together and say, "Never forget, never again." If you wish to be a part of this, please visit pledgetosarah.org and take the pledge. They aren't going to look out for us. We have to look out for each other.
While you're at it, visit my friends at Stop and Care.
I will return with another post shortly. I'm working long days and with everything going on it didn't seem right to return to business as usual. Thanks again.
We miss you, Sarah.....
Friday, February 21, 2014
Sarah
As most of you have heard by now, a young member of the Atlanta film community, 27 year-old Sarah Jones was killed yesterday when a train struck her while she was working on a film called Midnight Rider.
Unfortunately, I didn't know Sarah as well as I could have. I seem to be saying this a lot lately about those taken too young. She came in often as an additional second AC on several jobs I was working on. I would say "Hi," she would say "Hi" back and we would each head toward our respective labors. I can distinctly remember two things, which aren't much, but are all I have: I remember meeting her, and I remember the bacon. We were on a darkened stage when we met, and I noticed the new girl with a large toolbelt. I walked up (apparently I was in a rare social mood), stuck out my hand and introduced myself. She said, "Hi I'm Sarah." She was friendly, and full of the promise we all had at that age, starting an adventure that she expected never to end. Then there was the bacon thing which I noticed but never asked about. She had a shirt that said Bacon is nature's candy or something along those lines. I thought it was funny as I have often called barbecued ribs nature's candy, which they are. Then on the last job we were on together I noticed that she had a sticker on her toolbelt that also mentioned bacon with a picture of two pigs. That's it. That's all I have. One thing that is apparent over the last two days, though, is the love that the Atlanta film community has for her. Our hearts are broken.
I don't know all the details of what happened, and try to reserve judgement until the facts are in. I do know that, according to the lead detective on the investigation, the company did not have permission to be on the tracks. I have done countless train shoots. I've rigged cameras on trains, done dolly shots next to the tracks, crane shots of approaching trains and pushed Peewees down the aisles of passenger cars. I do know one thing, you never shoot on a live track without a representative of the train company there. You don't approach the tracks or a train unless they know you are there and you have permission to do it. These situations are tightly controlled. And I suspect one other thing. No one said "No." In this business, we are put in a lot of dangerous situations. A certain amount of risk comes with the job. We regularly shoot in caves, mines, boats, high speed cars, helicopters, and any other dangerous situation a writer can dream up. In these situations we trust that the groundwork has been laid, discussions have been had and meetings held by the higher ups who we often call "the adults" or the "grownups." We call them that for a reason. We count on them to worry about the details of making us safe while we focus on making the movie. All we ask is that if we are put in a situation, that we know the risks. ALL of them. And sometimes, someone has to say "No." As a Dolly Grip, the safety of the immediate camera crew on any given shot is my responsibility. I've earned that through experience, as has my Key Grip. No one said "No" for this girl and those injured in this senseless tragedy. Instead, corners were cut and permissions were broken and a 27 year-old girl who just wanted to do a good job was put in a position from which there was no escape. To get a freaking shot. And that's why we are here, guys: To say "No" for those who don't know they can. As a forty something Dolly Grip who's been around the block a few times, I would have said, Hell no to being on that trestle on a live track without a rep or permission. As a twenty-something young grip with something to prove and trying to make an impression on "The Adults," however, you can bet your ass I would have moved the camera up there myself and stood by it to yank it out of the way if a train came. It's up to us not to let the creative minds override common sense just to get a cool shot. It's up to us to look out for each other and for those who haven't been around as long. To say "No" for them. Because often they don't know they can. When the time came, no one said "No," for her. Now, all that's left is an endless sadness and anger, and lawsuits, and finger-pointing and we are still without a friend and co-worker who was doing what she was told, trusting the adults that it was OK.
To a young lady with a bright future cut short, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn't make it a point to get to know you. I thought I had more time. I'm sorry that no one was there to look out for you. I'm sorry for your parents. I can't imagine losing a child, especially to something as ultimately meaningless and stupid as a movie. I'm sorry for my colleagues who were lucky enough to know you better than I did. I wish you could see how much they loved you. I'm sorry for all that was taken from you because no one said, "No." You deserved better. From all of us.
PS: For those of you who knew and loved her, please leave any good memories you have here in the comments. I didn't take the time when she was here, but I can do it now.
Unfortunately, I didn't know Sarah as well as I could have. I seem to be saying this a lot lately about those taken too young. She came in often as an additional second AC on several jobs I was working on. I would say "Hi," she would say "Hi" back and we would each head toward our respective labors. I can distinctly remember two things, which aren't much, but are all I have: I remember meeting her, and I remember the bacon. We were on a darkened stage when we met, and I noticed the new girl with a large toolbelt. I walked up (apparently I was in a rare social mood), stuck out my hand and introduced myself. She said, "Hi I'm Sarah." She was friendly, and full of the promise we all had at that age, starting an adventure that she expected never to end. Then there was the bacon thing which I noticed but never asked about. She had a shirt that said Bacon is nature's candy or something along those lines. I thought it was funny as I have often called barbecued ribs nature's candy, which they are. Then on the last job we were on together I noticed that she had a sticker on her toolbelt that also mentioned bacon with a picture of two pigs. That's it. That's all I have. One thing that is apparent over the last two days, though, is the love that the Atlanta film community has for her. Our hearts are broken.
I don't know all the details of what happened, and try to reserve judgement until the facts are in. I do know that, according to the lead detective on the investigation, the company did not have permission to be on the tracks. I have done countless train shoots. I've rigged cameras on trains, done dolly shots next to the tracks, crane shots of approaching trains and pushed Peewees down the aisles of passenger cars. I do know one thing, you never shoot on a live track without a representative of the train company there. You don't approach the tracks or a train unless they know you are there and you have permission to do it. These situations are tightly controlled. And I suspect one other thing. No one said "No." In this business, we are put in a lot of dangerous situations. A certain amount of risk comes with the job. We regularly shoot in caves, mines, boats, high speed cars, helicopters, and any other dangerous situation a writer can dream up. In these situations we trust that the groundwork has been laid, discussions have been had and meetings held by the higher ups who we often call "the adults" or the "grownups." We call them that for a reason. We count on them to worry about the details of making us safe while we focus on making the movie. All we ask is that if we are put in a situation, that we know the risks. ALL of them. And sometimes, someone has to say "No." As a Dolly Grip, the safety of the immediate camera crew on any given shot is my responsibility. I've earned that through experience, as has my Key Grip. No one said "No" for this girl and those injured in this senseless tragedy. Instead, corners were cut and permissions were broken and a 27 year-old girl who just wanted to do a good job was put in a position from which there was no escape. To get a freaking shot. And that's why we are here, guys: To say "No" for those who don't know they can. As a forty something Dolly Grip who's been around the block a few times, I would have said, Hell no to being on that trestle on a live track without a rep or permission. As a twenty-something young grip with something to prove and trying to make an impression on "The Adults," however, you can bet your ass I would have moved the camera up there myself and stood by it to yank it out of the way if a train came. It's up to us not to let the creative minds override common sense just to get a cool shot. It's up to us to look out for each other and for those who haven't been around as long. To say "No" for them. Because often they don't know they can. When the time came, no one said "No," for her. Now, all that's left is an endless sadness and anger, and lawsuits, and finger-pointing and we are still without a friend and co-worker who was doing what she was told, trusting the adults that it was OK.
To a young lady with a bright future cut short, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn't make it a point to get to know you. I thought I had more time. I'm sorry that no one was there to look out for you. I'm sorry for your parents. I can't imagine losing a child, especially to something as ultimately meaningless and stupid as a movie. I'm sorry for my colleagues who were lucky enough to know you better than I did. I wish you could see how much they loved you. I'm sorry for all that was taken from you because no one said, "No." You deserved better. From all of us.
PS: For those of you who knew and loved her, please leave any good memories you have here in the comments. I didn't take the time when she was here, but I can do it now.
Saturday, February 15, 2014
If You Can't See The Camera, Yaddah, Yaddah, Yaddah
Dolly Grips spend an inordinate amount of time correcting mistakes. Most of these mistakes involve foreground actors blocking the other actors in their scenes by missing marks, or leaning. Now, I love actors, in general, don't get me wrong. But it seems that no one is teaching these younger ones the mechanics of clearing yourself for camera. I even heard one argue with the DP that he wasn't going to stand where he was supposed to. "Then you won't be in the shot," said the cameraman who is forever one of my heroes. Now most of the time, it's just an innocent mistake. I know it's difficult to emote or remember your lines while also hitting a mark. It's also difficult to swing around a fifty-foot steel arm that keeps changing lengths inside a freaking building full of classic cars and not hit one, miss all the actors, and still hit your marks. It's like, what you get paid for. Rule one for aspiring actors: If you can't see the camera, it can't see you. Don't worry, if you don't grasp this rule, I'll fix it for you. Or, you could take the time to develop camera awareness and be a brilliant technician as well as actor. There are a few who are veterans at this. Almost all of the old-schoolers from the studios were taught this early on. The younger ones are mostly taught how to be "angsty" (or angry, sometimes I don't know). I'm going to drop some names now of actors who make my job so much easier and excel at it.
Keanu Reeves- Yes, that one. This guy is the most brilliant, believe it or not, at clearing himself for camera and taking stage direction. Between takes, he's not in his trailer with some young extra, he's off to the side practicing handling his props. If a foreground actor blocks him, no sweat. He just leans out without taking his eyes off the other actor.
Denzel Washington- Horror stories aside, when I worked with him he was a gem. He took the time to communicate to me and the operator what he was going to do and always gave a clue when it would happen. Love the guy.
Tom Hanks- An actor's actor. Knows what's happening and why and where the camera is.
Stephen Moyer- The guy just gets it. He is not just an actor in front of the camera, he's a collaborator and knows how it's done. He doesn't flop into chairs or bound out of them like he's been shocked. He actually gives you a chance.
What brought this on was a guest actress on a series I'm presently doing. Blonde, beautiful, and seemingly sweet, she proceeded to chew up the set like she was the only one in the scene. Always to one side of her mark (remarkably, always the side that blocked number one on the call sheet), she was so uncannily adept at blocking the other actors (she once blocked two of them at once) that the camera department and I soon came to the conclusion that she had to be doing it on purpose. She once walked out of a shot towards camera and managed to tilt her head at just the right moment and at such an unnatural angle that it obliterated everyone but her. At one point, after gamely trying to clear the other actors, the operator took his eye off the eyepiece and looked at me. I raised my hands, locked the brake and took a step back. I told him I was done. I can't take the dolly practically out of the room to clear her. The director gave up and we went into tighter coverage with her offscreen next to camera.
Anyway, I don't want my actor friends to get upset at me. I do respect you. Just please learn to be aware of the camera. I know it can be done and while I can't do what you do, please help me help you.
PS- Michael Taylor over at Blood, Sweat, and Tedium has a great guest post up. Check it out!
Keanu Reeves- Yes, that one. This guy is the most brilliant, believe it or not, at clearing himself for camera and taking stage direction. Between takes, he's not in his trailer with some young extra, he's off to the side practicing handling his props. If a foreground actor blocks him, no sweat. He just leans out without taking his eyes off the other actor.
Denzel Washington- Horror stories aside, when I worked with him he was a gem. He took the time to communicate to me and the operator what he was going to do and always gave a clue when it would happen. Love the guy.
Tom Hanks- An actor's actor. Knows what's happening and why and where the camera is.
Stephen Moyer- The guy just gets it. He is not just an actor in front of the camera, he's a collaborator and knows how it's done. He doesn't flop into chairs or bound out of them like he's been shocked. He actually gives you a chance.
What brought this on was a guest actress on a series I'm presently doing. Blonde, beautiful, and seemingly sweet, she proceeded to chew up the set like she was the only one in the scene. Always to one side of her mark (remarkably, always the side that blocked number one on the call sheet), she was so uncannily adept at blocking the other actors (she once blocked two of them at once) that the camera department and I soon came to the conclusion that she had to be doing it on purpose. She once walked out of a shot towards camera and managed to tilt her head at just the right moment and at such an unnatural angle that it obliterated everyone but her. At one point, after gamely trying to clear the other actors, the operator took his eye off the eyepiece and looked at me. I raised my hands, locked the brake and took a step back. I told him I was done. I can't take the dolly practically out of the room to clear her. The director gave up and we went into tighter coverage with her offscreen next to camera.
Anyway, I don't want my actor friends to get upset at me. I do respect you. Just please learn to be aware of the camera. I know it can be done and while I can't do what you do, please help me help you.
PS- Michael Taylor over at Blood, Sweat, and Tedium has a great guest post up. Check it out!
Wednesday, January 15, 2014
Scraping The Paint
Years ago I was doing a crane shot on a big studio movie (one of my first). It involved a couple of stunt drivers screaming around a corner as the camera swung in over the roofs of the cars. It was a fast move, with a big time director and I was a little nervous. The director and DP asked me to get as low to the roof of the car as I safely could. We did a take and I was probably four of five feet over the car. The DP asked me if I could get lower. I looked at my Key Grip. He gave me a half-smile and said, "Scrape the paint." I've been scraping it ever since.
Now first, let's talk about safety. You should never, NEVER do something you think you can't do safely, it doesn't matter who asks you to do it. Remember Twilight Zone-The Movie? Yeah, that's what can happen. Know your strengths and your weaknesses. Know what stands to be lost. Is it just a camera and a head, or a life? If my Key Grip hadn't had faith in me, he would have vetoed it immediately (and he has vetoed a few shots since then that I thought I could do). If I thought I couldn't do it with an acceptable amount of risk, I wouldn't have done it. Now before everyone gets all bent out of shape, most of what we do on a film set involves a certain amount of risk. We blow up cars, flip cars toward camera, work with helicopters, mount cranes on camera cars and go careening down the interstate. Most of these things involve a tremendous amount of risk. Here is where knowing your capabilities come in. I knew I could get that camera within a few inches of the roof of that car. As it turned out, I literally scraped the paint. Just grazed it and my key grip, who was backing me up on the arm laughed his ass off. But, I knew I could safely do it. You have to be careful in these situations, though, to have someone up the chain to keep you in check,
Here is where your technique in crane operation comes in. To operate a crane successfully, you have to have a great grasp of spacial relationships. Keep your eyes glued to the lowest point on the head. Know what will happen if something goes wrong or the head actually comes in contact with the object, and know what your first reaction will be, Which way will the arm go? Is anyone else in danger if it gets away from you? What's the worst case scenario? Have a plan in your head.
If you're doing a shot where the only casualty will be the camera and head, and they keep asking you to get closer, then it's on them if it gets damaged. I did a lot of Technocrane work at the end of last year that involved getting the camera in on a car mounted on an autobase. An auto base is a large hydraulically charged pedestal that a car is mounted on. It can turn the car in any direction vertically or horizontally. I had a great time getting within inches of the windshield doing pushes and whips from the driver's side window to the passenger's side. I also knew no one would get hurt and that I had a certain amount of leeway because the DP wanted me to get as close as I could. Afterward, he said I was "crazy." But I knew my limitations and aside from one scrape of the head on the bumper, it all came out fine. You also have to have a great relationship with your pickle operator. It's a circle of trust. I count on him a lot to know where I'm going next and to yank me out of any hairy situations I get into. I've had the same guys from Cinemoves on every movie for years now, and we fall right into it. We've pulled off some freaky shots over the years and I'll always give them credit first for keeping me honest.
I should say here that none of this should be attempted until you have gained a LOT of experience with crane arms, both fixed and extendable, and of course I'm only speaking of remotely operated cameras here. Each arm length and size has it's own mass and weight issues to consider and you have to know what you can and can't do. But, it's one on my favorite jobs to have on a crane arm. It's where we earn our money.
Be Safe.
D
PS- Here is a great short film about the Grip Department by Mark Vargo, ASC. Share it with your friends.
Now first, let's talk about safety. You should never, NEVER do something you think you can't do safely, it doesn't matter who asks you to do it. Remember Twilight Zone-The Movie? Yeah, that's what can happen. Know your strengths and your weaknesses. Know what stands to be lost. Is it just a camera and a head, or a life? If my Key Grip hadn't had faith in me, he would have vetoed it immediately (and he has vetoed a few shots since then that I thought I could do). If I thought I couldn't do it with an acceptable amount of risk, I wouldn't have done it. Now before everyone gets all bent out of shape, most of what we do on a film set involves a certain amount of risk. We blow up cars, flip cars toward camera, work with helicopters, mount cranes on camera cars and go careening down the interstate. Most of these things involve a tremendous amount of risk. Here is where knowing your capabilities come in. I knew I could get that camera within a few inches of the roof of that car. As it turned out, I literally scraped the paint. Just grazed it and my key grip, who was backing me up on the arm laughed his ass off. But, I knew I could safely do it. You have to be careful in these situations, though, to have someone up the chain to keep you in check,
Here is where your technique in crane operation comes in. To operate a crane successfully, you have to have a great grasp of spacial relationships. Keep your eyes glued to the lowest point on the head. Know what will happen if something goes wrong or the head actually comes in contact with the object, and know what your first reaction will be, Which way will the arm go? Is anyone else in danger if it gets away from you? What's the worst case scenario? Have a plan in your head.
If you're doing a shot where the only casualty will be the camera and head, and they keep asking you to get closer, then it's on them if it gets damaged. I did a lot of Technocrane work at the end of last year that involved getting the camera in on a car mounted on an autobase. An auto base is a large hydraulically charged pedestal that a car is mounted on. It can turn the car in any direction vertically or horizontally. I had a great time getting within inches of the windshield doing pushes and whips from the driver's side window to the passenger's side. I also knew no one would get hurt and that I had a certain amount of leeway because the DP wanted me to get as close as I could. Afterward, he said I was "crazy." But I knew my limitations and aside from one scrape of the head on the bumper, it all came out fine. You also have to have a great relationship with your pickle operator. It's a circle of trust. I count on him a lot to know where I'm going next and to yank me out of any hairy situations I get into. I've had the same guys from Cinemoves on every movie for years now, and we fall right into it. We've pulled off some freaky shots over the years and I'll always give them credit first for keeping me honest.
I should say here that none of this should be attempted until you have gained a LOT of experience with crane arms, both fixed and extendable, and of course I'm only speaking of remotely operated cameras here. Each arm length and size has it's own mass and weight issues to consider and you have to know what you can and can't do. But, it's one on my favorite jobs to have on a crane arm. It's where we earn our money.
Be Safe.
D
PS- Here is a great short film about the Grip Department by Mark Vargo, ASC. Share it with your friends.
Saturday, January 04, 2014
End Of Year Roundup
Happy New Year! I hope everyone's holidays were relaxing and fun. Every new year I do a "What I Learned post. Here's this one....
What I Learned 2013:
Cherish your friends and coworkers. I lost two people I knew this year. One I knew strictly from work, and the other from home. Both were taken before their time and both hurt. As the pastor of my church growing up used to say, "We are all only one heartbeat away from eternity."
Bob, I wish we had more trips to the gun range and the Vietnamese restaurant. You were a good dude. Don't worry, Lilly is in good hands (she's snoozing in my lap as I write this).You had a hard road. Rest my friend.
Paul, I didn't know you well but if the measure of a man is the love he leaves behind, you were a mountain. We all miss you.
Don't be so rigid. If you read through my posts from the early years of this site, you'll see a lot of rules about dolly riding assistants etc. Learn to bend. I did and it was fine. Jules, you are allright.
Trust your instincts, and don't think too much. It helped me get the camera another inch closer to the car. Scrape the paint.
You have to spend money to make money. Even if you don't make money, it's only money.
Don't be such a crabby-ass all the time. Life is fun. It's a gift. Appreciate every moment.
I don't have to be right all the time.
Demand the best out of your dolly vendor. (I knew this already but it's been reiterated).
Sometimes, I'll blow a take on purpose to make a point. (I don't know where that came from but it sounds good).
If a stranger needs a hand and you can do it, do it. The returns on that investment can be enormous. But even if they're not, you have the satisfaction of helping another. (Thanks Billy O).
Take some time off. It's OK.
Be patient with your children. Even when you want to strangle them.
Pet the dog.
The whole thing is a big, messy rollercoaster ride. Your moves should be perfect, the rest doesn't have to be.
Listen to more music.
Pray.
That is all.
D
What I Learned 2013:
Cherish your friends and coworkers. I lost two people I knew this year. One I knew strictly from work, and the other from home. Both were taken before their time and both hurt. As the pastor of my church growing up used to say, "We are all only one heartbeat away from eternity."
Bob, I wish we had more trips to the gun range and the Vietnamese restaurant. You were a good dude. Don't worry, Lilly is in good hands (she's snoozing in my lap as I write this).You had a hard road. Rest my friend.
Paul, I didn't know you well but if the measure of a man is the love he leaves behind, you were a mountain. We all miss you.
Don't be so rigid. If you read through my posts from the early years of this site, you'll see a lot of rules about dolly riding assistants etc. Learn to bend. I did and it was fine. Jules, you are allright.
Trust your instincts, and don't think too much. It helped me get the camera another inch closer to the car. Scrape the paint.
You have to spend money to make money. Even if you don't make money, it's only money.
Don't be such a crabby-ass all the time. Life is fun. It's a gift. Appreciate every moment.
I don't have to be right all the time.
Demand the best out of your dolly vendor. (I knew this already but it's been reiterated).
Sometimes, I'll blow a take on purpose to make a point. (I don't know where that came from but it sounds good).
If a stranger needs a hand and you can do it, do it. The returns on that investment can be enormous. But even if they're not, you have the satisfaction of helping another. (Thanks Billy O).
Take some time off. It's OK.
Be patient with your children. Even when you want to strangle them.
Pet the dog.
The whole thing is a big, messy rollercoaster ride. Your moves should be perfect, the rest doesn't have to be.
Listen to more music.
Pray.
That is all.
D
Tuesday, December 10, 2013
End of Show Roundup
I usually save this post for the end of a movie. My last movie didn't really end. It will be finished at some point. Whether or not I and my colleagues will be involved is another matter. We all have bills to pay and mouths to feed and must move on, though I'm sure all of us would like to be a part of it. And that's all I'm going to say about that.
This job involved a lot of crane work. Spread out over two units. First unit alone had a 50', a 30', a 35-45 Moviebird, and a 15' Technocrane at any given time. We also had a 30' and 72' Hydrascope that came in and out periodically. I'll have more on the type of work I was doing in my future post, Scraping the Paint. As always, our regular crane and head techs from Cinemoves, Mike Howell and Sean Fossen did stellar work as well as Jeff Curtis making an appearance from time to time. Mr Rivenbark was on another job, but Sean does top-notch work and I'm always glad to see him. Trust between a pickle operator and a crane arm operator is paramount, especially in a job like this one, and Mr. Howell has never let me do anything stupid. Chris and David, and James from Chapman also came in and did great work with the Hydrascopes. Thanks guys.
Dolly-wise, I had a Hustler 4, a Peewee 3, and several Hybrids that came in and out as extra dollies and splinter unit dollies. We also used a Fisher 23 and a 21 for several shots. Thanks to Christine, Isabel, Fabien and Shafi at Chapman for their remarkable service. Thanks to a wonderful cast and crew. Hope to see you all again.
I have picked up a second unit on another show that will take me up to Christmas, so at least I'll be busy.
Later,
D
This job involved a lot of crane work. Spread out over two units. First unit alone had a 50', a 30', a 35-45 Moviebird, and a 15' Technocrane at any given time. We also had a 30' and 72' Hydrascope that came in and out periodically. I'll have more on the type of work I was doing in my future post, Scraping the Paint. As always, our regular crane and head techs from Cinemoves, Mike Howell and Sean Fossen did stellar work as well as Jeff Curtis making an appearance from time to time. Mr Rivenbark was on another job, but Sean does top-notch work and I'm always glad to see him. Trust between a pickle operator and a crane arm operator is paramount, especially in a job like this one, and Mr. Howell has never let me do anything stupid. Chris and David, and James from Chapman also came in and did great work with the Hydrascopes. Thanks guys.
Dolly-wise, I had a Hustler 4, a Peewee 3, and several Hybrids that came in and out as extra dollies and splinter unit dollies. We also used a Fisher 23 and a 21 for several shots. Thanks to Christine, Isabel, Fabien and Shafi at Chapman for their remarkable service. Thanks to a wonderful cast and crew. Hope to see you all again.
I have picked up a second unit on another show that will take me up to Christmas, so at least I'll be busy.
Later,
D
Sunday, December 01, 2013
A Sad Day Off
I was going to write a post on crane moves that come very close to other objects, like cars. I was going to call it "Scraping The Paint." I'm sure at some point I will get around to writing it but can't seem to do it right now. Please indulge me this one post, and then I'll get back to the usual drivel.
Take up to fifty or sixty highly skilled and driven people. Put them all into a pressure cooker for anywhere from twelve to sometimes eighteen hours a day. Have them do the most ridiculous things, from mugging in front of a camera to waving a smoke machine around a set. Lock them into this situation for anywhere from three to five, or more, months and you'll have yourself a movie. But you'll also have a highly dysfunctional, sometimes contentious, but often fiercely loyal family. Now, at the end of this long period, you fire them all and send them on their separate ways. No matter what happens you will rarely, if ever, have the same combination of people together at the same time again. Out of this pressure cooker lifelong friendships are made, as well as lifelong enemies. Babies are born, marriages begin and end. No matter what the outcome, strong ties are made. This is a film crew.
I have a day off tomorrow. It wasn't planned. I'm not happy about it, though not for the reasons you might think. My current job was supposed to carry on until just before Christmas. I've been on this particular show for three months now, and like the story always goes I've made some good friends, forged some ties. Together, the cast and crew of this production have been frozen, rained on, shot at, blown up, and smoked out. We've had countless hours of down time to tell our stories and miss our loved ones and wonder, "What is the holdup?" And I've enjoyed almost every minute of it. Until now. One of our own, a young man of immense talent, humility, and humor has left us before the last martini shot. Now this pressure cooker I spoke of earlier, it makes you forget the outside world. You forget that in the scheme of things what we are all doing means less than nothing. None of us are heroes. I'm not saving lives or protecting anyone. The danger that our cast is in and the heroics that they perform are purely manufactured. You get to know people beyond the screen persona that the rest of the world sees. I didn't know Paul Walker well. I had passing words with him for the first month or so of production. In the last month or so, however, our hours and downtime had placed us in the position of having time to talk. He told me about his daughter and how much he missed her. He told me how much his father loved seeing him and his brothers when they visited and how they had in recent years become much closer. I told him about my daughter. And my father. We didn't become friends, but we were acquaintances...thrown into that pressure cooker we've both been a part of for upwards of twenty years now. I made him laugh. And he made us all laugh. I don't know what went wrong with that car on Saturday afternoon that caused it to crash and take the lives of two young men. I do know that I am grateful to have had the small sliver of insight into the life of one of them. The other, I know nothing about. As the media machine does, it has virtually turned him into a shadow, obliterated by the celebrity of his passenger. I'm sorry for that. It must be incredibly hard on his family to see him become an unnamed footnote in the media gossip machine. I wish things were different. I wish I didn't get that cold stone in my chest every time I think of Paul Walker now. Above all, I wish I didn't have that day off tomorrow.
I don't know what will happen with the job now. Maybe it will go on, maybe it won't. This isn't the first time this sort of thing has happened and it won't be the last. But for those of us who were in that three month pressure cooker and those who had known Paul much longer and better than I, there is a hole that will not be filled. Thanks for the laughs, buddy. See you down the road.
1973-2013
Take up to fifty or sixty highly skilled and driven people. Put them all into a pressure cooker for anywhere from twelve to sometimes eighteen hours a day. Have them do the most ridiculous things, from mugging in front of a camera to waving a smoke machine around a set. Lock them into this situation for anywhere from three to five, or more, months and you'll have yourself a movie. But you'll also have a highly dysfunctional, sometimes contentious, but often fiercely loyal family. Now, at the end of this long period, you fire them all and send them on their separate ways. No matter what happens you will rarely, if ever, have the same combination of people together at the same time again. Out of this pressure cooker lifelong friendships are made, as well as lifelong enemies. Babies are born, marriages begin and end. No matter what the outcome, strong ties are made. This is a film crew.
I have a day off tomorrow. It wasn't planned. I'm not happy about it, though not for the reasons you might think. My current job was supposed to carry on until just before Christmas. I've been on this particular show for three months now, and like the story always goes I've made some good friends, forged some ties. Together, the cast and crew of this production have been frozen, rained on, shot at, blown up, and smoked out. We've had countless hours of down time to tell our stories and miss our loved ones and wonder, "What is the holdup?" And I've enjoyed almost every minute of it. Until now. One of our own, a young man of immense talent, humility, and humor has left us before the last martini shot. Now this pressure cooker I spoke of earlier, it makes you forget the outside world. You forget that in the scheme of things what we are all doing means less than nothing. None of us are heroes. I'm not saving lives or protecting anyone. The danger that our cast is in and the heroics that they perform are purely manufactured. You get to know people beyond the screen persona that the rest of the world sees. I didn't know Paul Walker well. I had passing words with him for the first month or so of production. In the last month or so, however, our hours and downtime had placed us in the position of having time to talk. He told me about his daughter and how much he missed her. He told me how much his father loved seeing him and his brothers when they visited and how they had in recent years become much closer. I told him about my daughter. And my father. We didn't become friends, but we were acquaintances...thrown into that pressure cooker we've both been a part of for upwards of twenty years now. I made him laugh. And he made us all laugh. I don't know what went wrong with that car on Saturday afternoon that caused it to crash and take the lives of two young men. I do know that I am grateful to have had the small sliver of insight into the life of one of them. The other, I know nothing about. As the media machine does, it has virtually turned him into a shadow, obliterated by the celebrity of his passenger. I'm sorry for that. It must be incredibly hard on his family to see him become an unnamed footnote in the media gossip machine. I wish things were different. I wish I didn't get that cold stone in my chest every time I think of Paul Walker now. Above all, I wish I didn't have that day off tomorrow.
I don't know what will happen with the job now. Maybe it will go on, maybe it won't. This isn't the first time this sort of thing has happened and it won't be the last. But for those of us who were in that three month pressure cooker and those who had known Paul much longer and better than I, there is a hole that will not be filled. Thanks for the laughs, buddy. See you down the road.
Saturday, November 09, 2013
Beginnings
This morning as I was taking a shower, I suddenly flashed back to my first day on a movie set. I was about nineteen and had somehow fumbled my way into being hired as a grip on a low budget movie being shot in Mobile, Alabama. I still remember the conversation on the phone with the Second AD (Anthony) where I asked him what I needed to bring. "Just the normal grip tools. You know, a knife and screwdriver," was his answer. That first day still sticks out as one of the highlights of my life. I was on a real movie set! There was a dolly!(Fisher 10). And track! (square). And real actors! (Martin Sheen's brother, Joe). I was making a flat rate of $300.00 a week. "Wow," I remember thinking,"I can actually make a living at this!" The fact that I also paid my own hotel room out of this princely sum didn't even phase me. I still remember wearily heading back to my hotel room to soak in a tub of hot water and the smile on my face and the feeling of satisfaction that I had made it as I lay in that water. Sometimes, not as often as back then, of course, but sometimes, just sometimes, when I look around and see the dollies and cranes and lights and real actors, I still get that feeling. It's not as pure, because it's been jaded a little by almost twenty-five years in this business. But it's still there. I wish it would come around more often.
We're almost eight weeks into Huge Franchise With Cars and Pretty People, and it's going well. We have a great crew and laugh a lot. I have a lot of toys. We carry a 30', a 50', and a 35'-45' Moviebird as well as a 15' Techno. I'm staying pretty busy so I don't have much time to post but I'm still here.
Stay in touch, D
We're almost eight weeks into Huge Franchise With Cars and Pretty People, and it's going well. We have a great crew and laugh a lot. I have a lot of toys. We carry a 30', a 50', and a 35'-45' Moviebird as well as a 15' Techno. I'm staying pretty busy so I don't have much time to post but I'm still here.
Stay in touch, D
Saturday, October 19, 2013
More Advice For The Newbies
I have a lot of time to observe as a dolly grip. Here are some things I see:
Setting a flag isn't a two person job. Just back away once he has it in the c-stand. You aren't helping. Let it go.
Everything isn't a question. Don't ask me if I'm coming off the track or where the next track is going. I don't know yet.
Be a grip, not a gopher. Learn how to light. Observe the set. Look for things that stick out. Keep looking. You'll always find something.
If you are low on something, go get more of it. I don't care how close the truck is, make a decent staging area and keep it replenished.
It's a craft, just like bricklaying or plumbing. Learn your craft. Don't just be a gopher.
Be proactive. Are there lights bleeding onto the bluescreen? Fix it. It's your job. Try to anticipate what is needed before it's called for.
Thus endeth the lesson.
The Captain.
Setting a flag isn't a two person job. Just back away once he has it in the c-stand. You aren't helping. Let it go.
Everything isn't a question. Don't ask me if I'm coming off the track or where the next track is going. I don't know yet.
Be a grip, not a gopher. Learn how to light. Observe the set. Look for things that stick out. Keep looking. You'll always find something.
If you are low on something, go get more of it. I don't care how close the truck is, make a decent staging area and keep it replenished.
It's a craft, just like bricklaying or plumbing. Learn your craft. Don't just be a gopher.
Be proactive. Are there lights bleeding onto the bluescreen? Fix it. It's your job. Try to anticipate what is needed before it's called for.
Thus endeth the lesson.
The Captain.
Saturday, September 28, 2013
Three MPH Faster
I spent today surfing the top deck of an insert car manhandling a Hydrascope as we swerved around the city. Here are some thoughts:
Agree on a speed. Our driver is a professional. He won't go rogue and get us into a hairy situation. If you're going to go faster, the First AD should consult with you. It's your ass hanging out in the breeze.
Harness yourself. A crane arm will drag you right off a car, especially around a corner. It's a lot of mass and you can't fight physics. I know the old argument about wanting to be able to get off the car if it goes out of control. If you have to let go of the arm to save yourself, it's like letting a wild animal loose. It won't stop until it hits something. Strap yourself in.
Watch your height. Especially if you are shooting off the back of the car. You can't see what's coming. The top height on the bucket or camera shouldn't be more than about 12 feet in the city Code is 13'6". Give yourself some leeway. Watch for overhanging branches and low lines. I did all my work on the top deck today from my knees (no jokes) to keep from being decapitated.
Have a spotter. Someone should watch what's coming up behind you. If nothing else it gives you peace of mind.
Let the arm do the work. Don't try to hold it perfectly steady. Let the head take the bounces. That's what it's for. You'll needlessly wear yourself out fighting the arm.
Watch the turns. This is where the mass of the arm can drag you. Your driver should take them slow.
Don't let yourself get talked into anything stupid. A movie ain't worth dying for.
Stay safe.
D
Yeah that's me.
Agree on a speed. Our driver is a professional. He won't go rogue and get us into a hairy situation. If you're going to go faster, the First AD should consult with you. It's your ass hanging out in the breeze.
Harness yourself. A crane arm will drag you right off a car, especially around a corner. It's a lot of mass and you can't fight physics. I know the old argument about wanting to be able to get off the car if it goes out of control. If you have to let go of the arm to save yourself, it's like letting a wild animal loose. It won't stop until it hits something. Strap yourself in.
Watch your height. Especially if you are shooting off the back of the car. You can't see what's coming. The top height on the bucket or camera shouldn't be more than about 12 feet in the city Code is 13'6". Give yourself some leeway. Watch for overhanging branches and low lines. I did all my work on the top deck today from my knees (no jokes) to keep from being decapitated.
Have a spotter. Someone should watch what's coming up behind you. If nothing else it gives you peace of mind.
Let the arm do the work. Don't try to hold it perfectly steady. Let the head take the bounces. That's what it's for. You'll needlessly wear yourself out fighting the arm.
Watch the turns. This is where the mass of the arm can drag you. Your driver should take them slow.
Don't let yourself get talked into anything stupid. A movie ain't worth dying for.
Stay safe.
D
Wednesday, September 18, 2013
Here They Come...
Aaaaand it's a boom town.
I am based out of a city other than LA. Have been for over twenty years, except for a period of six or seven years when I lived in Los Angeles. When I left this town, I had spent well over fifteen years doing an endless string of tv movies, miniseries, and commercials, sprinkled with the occasional big-budget film. I was lucky enough to start out early with a couple of Key Grips who were well established and did higher budget work when it came to town. Then, it dried up. The lure of a favorable exchange rate and a phrase which I became very familiar with-Canadian tax incentives- meant making the choice between getting a job at Home Depot or making the trek out West a reality. I didn't really have a choice, in my mind. I had been a grip since I was nineteen and had few skills that would translate into a career that didn't involve digging or pushing a wheelbarrow at eight bucks an hour. So, with a rarely used Local 80 card, I made the move to California. When I left, I pretty much knew everyone involved in the business in this town. There were the up and comers, like me, and the old-timers, who were the generation before me. Then Atlanta took off. Like a rocket. Sensing where the industry was heading- I wanted to move back home and I didn't want to do tv anymore- I made the trek back, family in tow. Now, I don't know anybody. Everyone is 22 (or seems to be). Where I was once the youngest guy on set, now I'm one of the older ones. So in the spirit of now being one of the older ones, I have a few words of advice, same as they once did for me:
Learn to tie a f^*%ing knot. Learn it. A grip needs to know four basic knots- clove hitch, trucker's hitch, bowline, and square knot. If I have to spend more than a minute (60 seconds) untying a knot, I'm going to cut it. If you want to get fancy, that's fine. I myself went through a sheepshank phase, but don't be an a-hole.
Realize that this could all end next month. Right now, you're riding high. Jobs are plentiful and if one doesn't work out, well, you can just move on to the next one. You weren't here when we were scrambling for every job we could get; the twenty hour- day music videos, the crappy Hallmark movies. You don't want to move the carts? I don't want to hear it. Move the carts. It's your job. All you will have when this ends-and it will- will be the reputation you make right now. When jobs are once again lean, I will get yours. And I won't lose a minute of sleep over it.
Keep your mouth shut. You're not Super Grip. You can't learn everything about this job in two shows. I've been doing this for twenty-five years and I'm still an idiot. Ask questions.
Don't tell anyone you're the best "anything" in town. You're a half-wit.. We still tell stories about the "best dolly grip in New Orleans." According to a friend of mine, he came in on "C" camera on a show. He lasted one day until he kicked the boxes out from under the track and ramped the dolly down it. Woops. The track is only a hundred dollars a foot. Next.
Righty-tighty, lefty-loosey. It ain't rocket surgery.
For god's sakes, learn how to wrap a lamp.
Sometimes, unfortunately, grips have to pick up heavy stuff. Good natured grumbling is fine. Sometimes there is an easier way. But sometimes, you just have to grab some steel and lift. Don't spend ten minutes yakking about it, just do it. Your Grandfather would be ashamed.
Thus endeth the lesson.
The Captain has spoken.
D
I am based out of a city other than LA. Have been for over twenty years, except for a period of six or seven years when I lived in Los Angeles. When I left this town, I had spent well over fifteen years doing an endless string of tv movies, miniseries, and commercials, sprinkled with the occasional big-budget film. I was lucky enough to start out early with a couple of Key Grips who were well established and did higher budget work when it came to town. Then, it dried up. The lure of a favorable exchange rate and a phrase which I became very familiar with-Canadian tax incentives- meant making the choice between getting a job at Home Depot or making the trek out West a reality. I didn't really have a choice, in my mind. I had been a grip since I was nineteen and had few skills that would translate into a career that didn't involve digging or pushing a wheelbarrow at eight bucks an hour. So, with a rarely used Local 80 card, I made the move to California. When I left, I pretty much knew everyone involved in the business in this town. There were the up and comers, like me, and the old-timers, who were the generation before me. Then Atlanta took off. Like a rocket. Sensing where the industry was heading- I wanted to move back home and I didn't want to do tv anymore- I made the trek back, family in tow. Now, I don't know anybody. Everyone is 22 (or seems to be). Where I was once the youngest guy on set, now I'm one of the older ones. So in the spirit of now being one of the older ones, I have a few words of advice, same as they once did for me:
Learn to tie a f^*%ing knot. Learn it. A grip needs to know four basic knots- clove hitch, trucker's hitch, bowline, and square knot. If I have to spend more than a minute (60 seconds) untying a knot, I'm going to cut it. If you want to get fancy, that's fine. I myself went through a sheepshank phase, but don't be an a-hole.
Realize that this could all end next month. Right now, you're riding high. Jobs are plentiful and if one doesn't work out, well, you can just move on to the next one. You weren't here when we were scrambling for every job we could get; the twenty hour- day music videos, the crappy Hallmark movies. You don't want to move the carts? I don't want to hear it. Move the carts. It's your job. All you will have when this ends-and it will- will be the reputation you make right now. When jobs are once again lean, I will get yours. And I won't lose a minute of sleep over it.
Keep your mouth shut. You're not Super Grip. You can't learn everything about this job in two shows. I've been doing this for twenty-five years and I'm still an idiot. Ask questions.
Don't tell anyone you're the best "anything" in town. You're a half-wit.. We still tell stories about the "best dolly grip in New Orleans." According to a friend of mine, he came in on "C" camera on a show. He lasted one day until he kicked the boxes out from under the track and ramped the dolly down it. Woops. The track is only a hundred dollars a foot. Next.
Righty-tighty, lefty-loosey. It ain't rocket surgery.
For god's sakes, learn how to wrap a lamp.
Sometimes, unfortunately, grips have to pick up heavy stuff. Good natured grumbling is fine. Sometimes there is an easier way. But sometimes, you just have to grab some steel and lift. Don't spend ten minutes yakking about it, just do it. Your Grandfather would be ashamed.
Thus endeth the lesson.
The Captain has spoken.
D
Saturday, September 14, 2013
Thank You
Thanks, you guys for the support for my wife's Cancer Walk. So many of you came through, even people that I don't know. She would give a hug and kiss to all of you if she could. We are overwhelmed. Thank You.
Friday, September 06, 2013
Here We Go!
After eight weeks off, I'm chomping at the bit to get back to work. So, on Monday I'll go into town and commence my first day of prep on the next epic. I would like to take this moment and salute all the mothers in the world. The patience, love, and .....patience.... never ending patience you display on a daily basis is truly awe inspiring. It says something about child-rearing when I would prefer a fourteen hour day of track laying and dolly pushing to peanut butter and jelly stains on the couch and tantrums in the living room floor. I honestly don't know how she does it. In any case, I will soon be back in the driver's seat for a twelve to fourteen week extravaganza of green screens, Technocranes, dance floors, and all that goes with it. Thank God.
I had the good fortune to teach a Dolly class for our union local a couple of weeks ago and it was a rousing success. It really was a pleasure to be able to drone on for a couple of hours before fifteen or so listeners who were truly eager to learn. And they did great! We went through each of the dollies and highlighted their various pros and cons, had a track laying seminar, ably given by my frequent B camera dolly grip, and did a little dance floor simulation. This was a basic class, just to give the rudimentary pointers, but I hope to hold an intermediate class soon. My thanks to those of you who showed up and showed an interest. I would also like to thank the guys at PC and E for their invaluable assistance. They did a great job!
I think it's important to reiterate something here that I've said before. If you want to be a dolly grip, you've got to be a good set grip first. It's the foundation that everything else is built on. Yes, that means flagging and lighting and even twelve by's. It all starts there. And as a bonus, you can always go back to it if you have to. It's a skill that will serve you in so many ways. I still use stuff every day that I learned as a set grip over twenty years ago. Learn it.
I had the good fortune to teach a Dolly class for our union local a couple of weeks ago and it was a rousing success. It really was a pleasure to be able to drone on for a couple of hours before fifteen or so listeners who were truly eager to learn. And they did great! We went through each of the dollies and highlighted their various pros and cons, had a track laying seminar, ably given by my frequent B camera dolly grip, and did a little dance floor simulation. This was a basic class, just to give the rudimentary pointers, but I hope to hold an intermediate class soon. My thanks to those of you who showed up and showed an interest. I would also like to thank the guys at PC and E for their invaluable assistance. They did a great job!
I think it's important to reiterate something here that I've said before. If you want to be a dolly grip, you've got to be a good set grip first. It's the foundation that everything else is built on. Yes, that means flagging and lighting and even twelve by's. It all starts there. And as a bonus, you can always go back to it if you have to. It's a skill that will serve you in so many ways. I still use stuff every day that I learned as a set grip over twenty years ago. Learn it.
Monday, September 02, 2013
Okay, Okay! I Think I've Got It.
As most of you know, I've been trying to navigate Paypal to set up the whole T-Shirt payment thingie. I had a "shipping and handling" charge attached to it, which didn't seem to be kicking in. So, I raised the price of the shirts to offset the 12- to- 15 dollar shipping and packaging etc. Now, it seems to be working and adding it automatically, making the t-shirt price somewhere north of 35.00, which is a little ridiculous. So, I've refunded some money back to those who've paid this ridiculous price and will now again reduce the price of the shirts to 15.00 plus 15.00 shipping and handling (believe me, it costs that much). Good luck to us all.
Sunday, August 25, 2013
New Stuff!
I am proudly announcing the first batch of Dollygrippery t-shirts. This is the first run and will be distinguished from all other editions by it's "unique" blue color. The front features the Dollygrippery logo and the back just has the "Dollygrippery.com" address. They're going for 18 bucks apiece right now as this is an experiment and I need to recoup my costs. Just use the Paypal button on the right. As of the moment, I am not taking orders from outside the US until I figure out how the whole thing works although if you are outside the US and really want one bad (how could you not?) just email me and we'll figure something out.
On the same note, this is just an experiment right now. I'm slowly figuring out Paypal etc although it seems to be working the way I wanted it to. If something goes wrong and you receive the wrong size or don't receive what you ordered, send me an email and we will work through the problem. Thank you. Nasty emails will be published here for the Dolly Grip world to see.
I did have to raise the price because shipping was much more than I thought it would be. Sorry guys but good for those of you who got in early!
My wife and I would like to thank those of you who have generously given to her fundraiser for the Susan Komen Breast Cancer Walk. Although out of the US givers seem to be experiencing a problem, your kindness is appreciated and my wife loves you for it. Thank you.
Wednesday, August 14, 2013
Help Out A Good Cause!
This isn't something I often do, but I'm asking for a little help. My wife is walking in the Susan G Komen Three Day Breast Cancer Walk in honor of her mother, Janet. Janet lost her long battle with this disease two weeks before her only grandchild was born. If you can spare a dollar or five, please go to my wife's website and give. She, and I, will be eternally grateful.
Thank You,
D
Thank You,
D
Wednesday, August 07, 2013
Looking For A Submission
I'm looking for a review from anyone who has used the new Hybrid 4. I keep seeing mixed reviews and would like someone who has used it to report in. Write up a review and email it to dollygrippery at gmail dot com. I'll punch it up if you like and give you credit or you can submit it anonymously (I would like to know who is sending it but will publish it anonymously if you like). Help us out.
D
D
Tuesday, July 30, 2013
The Endless Process of Auditioning
This week, you get a two-for-one of two posts in one day. Hey, I'm on vacation.
PS- Don't forget to ask any questions, or leave some observations in the forum. That place is deadsville. We also have a page on Facebook. Those of you who have been tasked with guest posts are long overdue. Get cracking.
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