Dispatch from Les #5 - "You Wanna See Helicopters?"

Yes, we are still here. Life and the 40-hour work week go on in the real world. The editing continues in the movie world. (On weekends, that is.) The mind numbing attention to detail and constant search for that best combination of scenes that is editing. Most scenes shot at a 3 to 1 shooting ratio, if we were lucky. Viewing the same scenes over and over for three years is like water torture. It's like eating chocolate cake until you puke. Whew! But we are so close! We're at the finish line! Still planning on that March 2009 premiere for Having My Baby, fingers crossed! The media blitz will start soon. Look for us on the telly, as our British friend would say, as we countdown our fifteen minutes of fame.

What kind of movie takes 3 1/2 years to complete? What were you doing on Labor Day? Editing. What were you doing on Thanksgiving? Editing. What were you doing on Christmas Eve? Editing. (Eraserhead supposedly took David Lynch five years to shoot. The torture that man must have gone through. Five years of anticipation to see a completed project. Some people call Eraserhead unwatchable... some call it genius... an audience is a fickle thing. I fall in the latter camp and call it wholly original.)

"You wanna see helicopters?" I got the helicopter shots just hanging around Addison Airport for a couple of Saturdays. Inserted those shots where needed, and voila! Used the helicopter sounds to sell other lean scenes in the woods... indie movies at bargain basement prices! Life is good. Guerrilla filmmaking is a blast! And it looks good! And sounds good! Gotta love the Canon XL-1. It's a workhorse. Probably almost obsolete by now, but hey, it works. The medium is not the message in cinema, the story is. All you pretentious filmmaker wannabes and poseurs clucking from the sidelines like matrons in some sewing circle can't see the forest for the trees. Show me your movies. Oh, you've not made any.... Our little movie is looking good, Holmes. Dilligaf has mucho cajones. (Translated: Big drawers.)

Long story short, we're not giving up. We have survived scenarios in movie making that would make Oliver Stone blush. (Incidentally, we love Oliver Stone at Dilligaf Productions, so back off, Phil.) We don't give up at Dilligaf. You can knock us down and we get back up. We keep pushing. We're like wounded soldiers moving through the bush, pushing to make it to the chopper so we can some day see our loved ones again. Keep pushing... keep pushing... keep pushing....

Walking my three miles every other day... doing my chin-ups every morning... meditating during the week when I can... eating my veggies... drinking my green tea and red wine... haven't had a cigarette in three months... pushing fifty... a vain, cranky old man who wants a cigarette... pushing past that donut aisle... pushing, pushing pushing! March 2009: be there.

Dispatch from Les #4 - Do You Want Some Cheese With That Whine?

I'm not complaining, folks. I set myself up for the struggle. I wanted this punishment. I don't want this blog to sound bitter. I'm excited! I feel like the coolest mofo in town. I just don't want to count my chickens before they cross the road, if you know what I mean. (You know why the chicken crossed the road, don't you? To see a man lay bricks.)

One great bit of fortune here at Dilligaf Productions is that we got so lucky casting Having My Baby. There are a lot of talented actors working and auditioning in Dallas, and we were lucky to get so many. Such kind, gracious, wonderful people. Beautiful people. I am deeply indebted to and very proud of all the actors involved in making Having My Baby a reality.

To those of you who got there late for the pizza, I'm sorry. To the actor left bleeding in the creek without a Band-Aid, I'm sorry. To the dear friend with the twisted ankle, I'm sorry. To the set designer with the hijacked back yard, I'm sorry. To all the numerous people who got poison ivy, I'm sorry. To the actor who had to blow into a breathalyzer to operate the vehicle as she drove and said her lines, because that was the only car we could get for that scene, I'm sorry. To the actor who got anthrax in the mail, I'm sorry. (Just kidding.) And to the actor who was persecuted by The Man, I'm sorry. To all the actors who tired of chips and sandwiches (and Wheat Thins, granola bars, cheese sticks and Fruit Rollups), I'm so very sorry.

To the actors who worked for points... thank you. Don't count them out yet in this economy. I just know we're going to be a big hit in Borneo. To the actors who worked for money... thank you. You were worth every penny and more. I'm just sorry I didn't have more. And to those of you who felt cheated, I'm sorry. And to those of you who donated your time, your resources and your money, a great big thank you. You shall forever be in the pantheon of the people I hold dear. And to my evanescent crew of misfits (a term of endearment to me), I thank you. You too shall get credit when the credits roll.

At the risk of sounding megalomaniacal, I really think we have accomplished something huge in the annals of low-budget indies. Our chances of a cult favorite are a million to one, but I'll gladly take those odds. Better odds than the lottery, mon ami. One thing that can be said of Having My Baby, is that the script has universal appeal. The logline can be understood in any language. Yes, even in the jungles of Borneo, they would understand the storyline of Having My Baby. You think I jest.

New York Times movie critic Matt Zoller Seitz called Having My Baby "a classic" after reading the spec script. Having My Baby poured out of me over a few weekends, as if my muse had turned on a faucet. When I passed around the spec script to an assortment of people, most women who had read it told me it made them cry. When big, burly, scarred roughnecks read it and said they got choked up, I knew I had something. I'm talking about guys who can crack a walnut in the fold of their arm, crying like babies. Guys big enough to eat apples off your head, fighting tears. And Having My Baby never slows down long enough for you to get bored. You won't even have time to notice that tripod leg in the frame. (Just kidding!)

A weird twist of fate has willed this movie into being, like memes taking over time and space and nourishing an anemic little movie into an organic dreamscape worthy of the movie gods. Egads, I sound a bit full of myself as I mix my metaphors. No Hegelian dialectics here, friend, just pure poetry of a movie; beautiful actors, beautiful Texas exteriors, southern style, abortion agonized, religion tinged, testosterone and pheremone fueled, action drama, baby! Get the popcorn ready, Mabel.

Dispatch from Les #3: Guerrilla Filmmaking, or, Flying By the Seat of My Pants

It is not illegal, it is not unethical, but it is rude, insinuating yourself into a pubic setting with a few actors and a cameraman. Stealing a shot. Tell the waiter it’s a home movie. Have the actor look into the camera and say, “Hi, Grandma!” as you order your meals. Do what you have to do, but get the shot. Just don’t let the owner or his lawyer know about it. Insurance, don’t you know. Get the shot, then let them run you off. How much embarrassment can you endure to make your film? How badly do you want it?

Guerrilla filmmaking is easier in Texas, and particularly in Dallas, where one doesn’t need a permit to film. That’s right, folks, unless the law has changed in the last ten years since I researched it. As long as you don’t obstruct traffic or disturb the peace, you may film away, my friend, until someone runs you off, or until you get the shot (or get shot). Yes, I know, it’s bold, it’s rude, it’s careless, and it’s idiotic. How badly do you want it?

I let everyone on my films know from the get go that a lot of the filming will be “guerrilla filmmaking,” and “we might run out of money on day ten of shooting.” Those are my exact words when recruiting a production team for a film, or soliciting an actor. Can you believe in a project that much, knowing that all could be for naught if you run out of money midway? That you might actually fail? That you’re actually meant to fail, because you are attempting an impossible feat? And we’re not talking about a short film… we’re talking about an original, feature-length, action-drama, soap operatic, ultra, ultra, microscopically low budgeted independent film shot on mini-DV and edited at home on a personal computer. Some people can’t understand that concept… you’re going to do what? Shoot a feature-length, action drama with no budget to speak of? $25,000? Ha! “Ain’t gonna happen, homeboy,” they’ll tell you…. Watch me! Watch my smoke! How badly do you want it?

I ask people to work for points, which I guess these days is a rather desperate, rude and presumptive method of making a movie, a definite faux pas. I had an actor tell me recently, “The days of working for points are over, Les.” I had a lawyer tell me once, “People with no money shouldn’t make movies,” as he lead me out of his office, in a poor display of hiding his disgust. Can you handle it? How badly do you want to make that low-budget film?

As a producer, I once had a director and a 2nd DP refuse to work on day three of shooting, go behind my back telling tales to my executive producer, and force me to cut another deal, and take financial control of my movie. They stole control of my movie right out from under me! They said I “wasn’t prepared” and I was “intimidating.” The day they said I wasn’t prepared, I got them onto Love Field without a permit or security clearance of any kind, I got them a stretch limousine, and access to an airplane hangar and a Lear Jet. They were two hours late that day and it took them three hours to start shooting. I was waiting for five hours! And all they had to shoot was a couple exiting a Lear Jet and a half a page of dialogue! David and Phil could have shot it in 30 minutes, and I could have GTFO and had extra time to prepare for the rest of the day’s filming at the next location where I was desperately needed. This same director and 2nd DP had some kind of magical jib that was going to supposedly make up for their inadequacies and lack of talent. Five hours I was waiting! Oh, and my other great sin as line producer was that I didn’t have a pair of binoculars for a particular scene. I don’t know about you, but if I don’t have a prop that I’m supposed to have, and I’m directing a movie, I’m going to call the line producer and say, “Hey, numb nuts, where’s the @#%&*% binoculars?” I’m not going to take over the producer's movie. But of course, they thought they were saving my movie from my arrogant, hillbilly self. The only positive thing to come out of that experience, was that they got the shot. (Or some of the shots, anyway, half-assed as they might be.) How badly do you want it?

Some people, actors and crew, begin to think the movie is about them instead of the characters. One of the hazards of guerrilla filmmaking: hiring the occasional non-professional (on a non-professional movie, of course), wannabes and amateurs. Some think, “Woo-hoo, I’m in a movie!” or, “I’m working on a movie!” They begin to think that they are the center of the maelstrom that is independent moviemaking. They begin to think that they are the “bee’s nut,” as Hunter S. Thompson would say. They begin to think the movie is about them and their personal life!

Whenever one says, “I’m making a movie,” those are magical words. People’s ears prick up. All of a sudden you become someone important, someone special, a cut above the rest. It has an effect on people. Then the first few days of shooting, you’re all one big, happy family and everyone is so excited… until, say for instance, the actor falls in love with the actress and they begin fighting, or the script supervisor runs off with the DP, or the grip refuses to work with the director, or the prima donna refuses to say the line correctly, because “it’s stupid”…. Welcome to the low-budget producer’s nightmare. Then all of a sudden new priorities other than the movie begin to become manifest, and your movie takes a backseat to bickering, fighting, hurt feelings, miscommunications, vindictiveness, vendettas, musical bed hopping and general disorder. How badly do you want it?

Or the sycophant who wants you to produce his movie, shoot his movie, cast his movie, use your equipment for his movie, because, if a hillbilly like you can do it, why, obviously anyone can! And of course his script is just the greatest thing and is going to set the screenwriter’s world on fire! And of course, you must do it now! He just needs to be discovered, and you’re his ticket to fame! And if your actions don’t live up to his presumed omnipotence and rise to glory, then look out! You better watch your back, my friend, as you shuffle home beaten and exhausted to your baloney sandwich and your Ramen noodles. (As Colonel Trautman said of Rambo's survival skills: “He can eat things that would make a billy goat puke.”) And then sometime around midnight, when you’re so tired your knuckles are dragging the ground, you take the time to charge the camera batteries, unload and take inventory of your props and equipment, and then take all of your change you’ve been collecting in the coffee can in your closet for months to redeem at a Coinstar, so you’ll have production funds for the next day’s shoot that starts at 9 AM, knowing you’ll really need that money for gas and lunch Monday when you go back to your job in the real world. How badly do you want it?

Quentin Tarantino once said, “He with the most point of view, wins.” How much point of view do you have? How much do you believe in yourself and your perceptions of reality? Webster’s defines reality as, “That which exists independent of perception.” How much of your talent is reality, and how much is pure, subjective, solipsistic ego? How much do you believe in your own talent? Just how driven are you to create your art? Just how many push-ups can you do? Just how badly do you want it?

You Would Have To Be Here

Today I have been working on the color correction of Having My Baby. I can't wait for everyone to finally see it. You have no idea how polished and pristine it is turning out. The video clips are far from an indication of what it looks like. 

We can't lie, there were some amateurish looking frames but thanks to Apple the visual experience of watching this film will blow your mind. You actors who have suffered through watching 3rd gen copies of your scenes on Les's old small TV are going to lose control of bodily functions when you see how good this looks. Hurray for me!!!

Dispatch From Les #2 - How Badly Do You Want It?

How badly do you want to make that low-budget, DV movie? What is your motivation to do such a thing? How much pain can you endure? How far can you push yourself? How much can you do by yourself and how much help will you need from others?

Are you willing to let the electric bill go unpaid so that you can have production funds; waiting until you get the disconnection notice, then getting an extension on the due date, knowing that when you do finally pay it, it will be twice as much because the new bill as well as the old bill will be due by then? Are you willing to survive on frozen pizzas and burritos chocked full of trans fats just to have production funds? Are you willing to live in a dirty house because you worked and filmed or line produced every waking hour, every day, all week long, and your energy level is nil? Are you willing to work forty hours a week in the real world, and add to that the burden of making a low-budget, independent film?

Are you willing to be vilified, such as is in the hate mail posted below? Are you willing to fail? You'll never accomplish anything monumental unless you are prepared to fail and fall flat on your face in total embarrassment. Do you truly have something to say that warrants a movie, or is it a vanity project so steeped in subjective filler that no one really cares?

Are you willing to coddle an actor who halfway through filming decides that your darling script he adored during auditions he doesn't like so much after all, so he decides to change the lines you sweated blood to create, knowing that with half the movie already shot you cannot recast and reshoot his parts? How much torment can you endure without losing your cool? Just how important to you is your script and the dialogue contained within?

Have you done your homework, and read books on indie films? $30 Film School, by Michael W. Dean? Rebel Without a Crew, by Robert Rodriguez? Feature Filmmaking at Used Car Prices, by Rick Schmidt? Can you walk into a restaurant unannounced with your cameraman and actors and steal a shot guerrilla-style, without permission? Can you talk friends, family, relatives and complete strangers out of money for production funds? If your girlfriend of seven years says she will leave you if you make another movie, because she wants to spend the money buying a house, can you handle it? Which is more important to you, your girlfriend or your art? You better say girlfriend, if you want to keep her. How badly do you want it?

Les' First Hate Mail

Les,

I just want you to know that because you changed your mind the day before the shoot, leaving me no time to get another camera, my film is now dead. My villain is out of town until September, and my protagonist is not available after August, and won't let me replace the villain. So, even if I buy/rent another one now, it won't do me any good because I've lost my two most important actors. And it's your fault.

And why? Because I protested the fact that you were being simply unreasonable, and reminded you that your attitude wasn't as justified as it seemed to you because I've given so much to your projects in the past. Sure, you were doing me a favor; but it's not like I've never done you one, so it doesn't give you the right to be an asshole. But you don't care about things like that, do you? No, of course not, because you're a low person, lacking in character, who's never going to amount to shit. Deep down you know it's true, don't you? Sure you do. Ingratitude is an ugly quality, Les, and you possess it in abundance.

You may now add me to the long list of people who despise you. And if I ever get the chance to get you back for this, I will; and without remorse. Life is long, Les; and I'm going to go farther in this industy than you, not only because I'm far more talented, but also because I'm willing to move to L.A. and I'm not a paranoid, mentally unstable, disloyal...person like you. I will probably get my chance, eventually, and you'll remember this, then. Personally, I can't wait to teach you a lesson.

[August 2008, Name Withheld]

FBI Office Interview scene from Having My Baby

A scene from the feature film Having My Baby written by Les Branson.

FBI Special Agents Greg Allen(Michael Clemons) and Marcy Garcia(Maria Robles) interviewed by talk show host Bill Donovan(Daniel Fowler) in a scene from the feature film Having My Baby.