Director's Notes
Every movie is a little miracle. Making a short film, independent of outside financing, is a special kind of challenge.
I had the good fortune to be selected as one of twelve women to participate in the AFI’s Directing Workshop for Women. While I was lucky enough to be one of six participants ultimately selected to shoot my film, it seemed quite possible that I would fail to make my start date. The student producer AFI had paired me with disappeared in preproduction. Just weeks from my first day of shooting, I didn’t have a location, a permit, or cast.
I put out an SOS to friends, and like an answer to a prayer, Amy Ness walked into my life. A production supervisor for big studio films like Men in Black and The Fast & the Furious, she was sharp, organized, resourceful and up for the challenge. She set us up with a production office on the Sony lot, and wrangled her best colleagues to join in what she affectionately called “the biggest little movie in town”. Together we assembled an amazing crew, a group of casting advisors to die for, and two incredibly talented up-and-coming actors in the lead roles. We had the luxury (and increasingly rare opportunity) of shooting on a top-of-line Panasonic Platinum 35mm camera . Every filmmaker knows one of the biggest budget items is catering. When everyone is working for free, you hope that they love your script, but you know they’ve got to love the food. Tom Kats catering to the rescue, who prepared amazing meals (grilled shrimp and filet mignon -- seriously?), ensuring our crew would show up every day, if only to see what Dirk was cooking up next.
We shot two days in an idyllic setting in Topanga canyon (well, perhaps not so idyllic for the crew that had to hike the equipment in), and when I woke up the next morning, I noticed a patch of red on my neck. Thinking it was simply morning blotchiness, I got out my foundation and sponged it over the patch, then used the sponge to apply foundation to the rest of my face. I then drove to West Hollywood where we were shooting day-for-night in a black-wrapped rental Amy and her husband, Dennis Gassner, had generously loaned the production. As the hot August day wore on, it soon became apparent that the morning blotchiness was in fact poison oak. By the end of the day, my entire face was burning up.
I woke up the next morning with one eye swollen shut. The bridge of my nose had quadrupled in size and I could barely see my way to the car. I called in to the set and asked my DP to shoot the insert shot, while I proceeded to a dermatologist who kindly opened early to give me a steroid shot in the bum. I bore an unhealthy resemblance to the Elephant Man that day. Needless to say, no one wanted to sit next to me at lunch. This, I decided, was Life's way of humbling me, just in case I was getting too big for my britches. Thankfully, only two other crew members were suffering from mild cases of poison oak, and amazingly, my actors had escaped unscathed – even Titus, who had spent two days tumbling through the woods of Topanga followed by a steadicam. By the time we wrapped three days (and six baby Hopes) later, my poison oak was all but completely gone. (Thank you, Dr. Kopelson!)
But directing-while-grotesque was not the most memorable thing about the shoot. The most memorable thing was how much fun we had. How shockingly well things went, despite our financial limitations, despite the short schedule, despite the crying the babies and yes, despite the itching and scratching.
For all of the challenges we faced, I know that I will never again have such creative freedom. We shot the film in chronological order, a true luxury, so that the actors were getting to know one another as the characters got to know one another. Everyone on set was there because they wanted to be there, and everyone brought their best game. Adam created some beautiful images. The actors gave truly moving performances. My producer was a revelation every day. I am truly humbled by the talent, effort and goodwill that had went into making this film a reality.
The Clearing was an exceptional experience and the people who made it happen, from the first AD to the UPM and all the alphabet in between, will always be very special to me indeed.
I hope a tiny fraction of that pleasure seeps out to you, the audience, as you view The Clearing.
I had the good fortune to be selected as one of twelve women to participate in the AFI’s Directing Workshop for Women. While I was lucky enough to be one of six participants ultimately selected to shoot my film, it seemed quite possible that I would fail to make my start date. The student producer AFI had paired me with disappeared in preproduction. Just weeks from my first day of shooting, I didn’t have a location, a permit, or cast.
I put out an SOS to friends, and like an answer to a prayer, Amy Ness walked into my life. A production supervisor for big studio films like Men in Black and The Fast & the Furious, she was sharp, organized, resourceful and up for the challenge. She set us up with a production office on the Sony lot, and wrangled her best colleagues to join in what she affectionately called “the biggest little movie in town”. Together we assembled an amazing crew, a group of casting advisors to die for, and two incredibly talented up-and-coming actors in the lead roles. We had the luxury (and increasingly rare opportunity) of shooting on a top-of-line Panasonic Platinum 35mm camera . Every filmmaker knows one of the biggest budget items is catering. When everyone is working for free, you hope that they love your script, but you know they’ve got to love the food. Tom Kats catering to the rescue, who prepared amazing meals (grilled shrimp and filet mignon -- seriously?), ensuring our crew would show up every day, if only to see what Dirk was cooking up next.
We shot two days in an idyllic setting in Topanga canyon (well, perhaps not so idyllic for the crew that had to hike the equipment in), and when I woke up the next morning, I noticed a patch of red on my neck. Thinking it was simply morning blotchiness, I got out my foundation and sponged it over the patch, then used the sponge to apply foundation to the rest of my face. I then drove to West Hollywood where we were shooting day-for-night in a black-wrapped rental Amy and her husband, Dennis Gassner, had generously loaned the production. As the hot August day wore on, it soon became apparent that the morning blotchiness was in fact poison oak. By the end of the day, my entire face was burning up.
I woke up the next morning with one eye swollen shut. The bridge of my nose had quadrupled in size and I could barely see my way to the car. I called in to the set and asked my DP to shoot the insert shot, while I proceeded to a dermatologist who kindly opened early to give me a steroid shot in the bum. I bore an unhealthy resemblance to the Elephant Man that day. Needless to say, no one wanted to sit next to me at lunch. This, I decided, was Life's way of humbling me, just in case I was getting too big for my britches. Thankfully, only two other crew members were suffering from mild cases of poison oak, and amazingly, my actors had escaped unscathed – even Titus, who had spent two days tumbling through the woods of Topanga followed by a steadicam. By the time we wrapped three days (and six baby Hopes) later, my poison oak was all but completely gone. (Thank you, Dr. Kopelson!)
But directing-while-grotesque was not the most memorable thing about the shoot. The most memorable thing was how much fun we had. How shockingly well things went, despite our financial limitations, despite the short schedule, despite the crying the babies and yes, despite the itching and scratching.
For all of the challenges we faced, I know that I will never again have such creative freedom. We shot the film in chronological order, a true luxury, so that the actors were getting to know one another as the characters got to know one another. Everyone on set was there because they wanted to be there, and everyone brought their best game. Adam created some beautiful images. The actors gave truly moving performances. My producer was a revelation every day. I am truly humbled by the talent, effort and goodwill that had went into making this film a reality.
The Clearing was an exceptional experience and the people who made it happen, from the first AD to the UPM and all the alphabet in between, will always be very special to me indeed.
I hope a tiny fraction of that pleasure seeps out to you, the audience, as you view The Clearing.