By Zach Goldberg
There are things more important than getting that shot.
This wasn’t what I was planning on writing about this week. Then again, one can’t exactly plan for tragedy.
A young woman, Sarah Jones, 27, was killed on set of “Midnight Rider,” a Greg Allman biopic that’s been shooting in Georgia, after being struck by a freight train.
God dammit.
27. That’s a year older than me. Despite feigning the appearance of an adult, I still very much feel like a kid. I’m sure Sarah did as well over these past few years, navigating through the film and television industry and hoping to settle into her career.
Sarah was 2nd AC (Second Assistant Camera). For those reading this not in the industry, the 2nd AC is a valuable position on the camera crew, assisting the 1st AC, Camera Operator, and Director of Photography. They are a linchpin on set, ensuring the smooth operation of the camera so we can produce all the pretty pictures that end up projected on that grey canvas in your local multiplex.
Responsibilities of the position include, but are not limited to, loading film or media into the camera, changing and charging batteries, changing lenses, operating the slate (again, for those on the outside, that’s the clapper board), filling out camera sheets, marking up actor’s position’s in frame so that the 1st AC can hit their focus, and organizing all the camera equipment for the day’s work.
I wrote that (very limited) look at what a 2nd AC does for a couple reasons. For starters, I want to shed light on the kind of position in the film industry that is incredibly important, yet vastly overlooked by the regular viewing audience. When the credits roll at the movies, people recognize the actor’s names, the function of a writer and director (and maybe an editor), but as soon as positions such as 1st AC, 2nd AC, Gaffer, and Best Boy Electric come up, they don’t know what to make of them.
If only they knew. If only they knew the work that goes into making a film. If only they knew it’s these people in these roles that clock the most hours and put in the most labor. It is a sad reality that 14-16 hour days are not uncommon in the film and television world and, for those in these craft and tech positions, the longest and most trying.
No man is an island, certainly on a film set. It takes an entire crew to conjure that movie magic.
The other reason I listed out a 2nd AC’s many jobs on set is simple: they are, in no way shape or form, responsible for safety protocol. Yes, at one point we all take personal responsibility and ownership for our own actions, but yet.. Someone, be it a producer or director or 1st AD, has the job of making sure that everyone on set is safe and that the work they are doing does not jeopardize the health or well being of the crew. That was not Sarah’s call.
Because really… we’re just making movies. We’re not splitting the atom here. We’re not curing cancer. We’re not ending genocide. We’re creating a product, albeit an entertaining and hopefully enlightening and insightful product, for an audience.
That’s it.
This fatal accident could have and should have been avoided. Details are still coming in, but it appears that while the film crew had permission to shoot in the general area, they did not clear anything with the railroad, nor have permission, to shoot on the train tracks.
They were aware of two trains that would be passing through and waited until they did to set up their shot. When a third and unexpected train arrived, they could not clear the set on time.
God dammit.
Sarah was a “kid” like me. I didn’t know her, but believe me, I understand her. When you’re young and working in this industry, you do as you’re told. You want to make a good impression, especially on the pros that have been working this job for decades. You want to appear fearless and up for anything.
We must get this shot. We must get this shot.
See, a weird thing happens on set. You really do feel kind of invincible. You become convinced that the project you’re shooting is the most important thing in the world (be it a 30 second commercial or a two hour feature film) and you go above and beyond to make sure it’s brought to proper completion. This is true whether you are a Production Assistant desperately arranging the craft services table (“The crew must eat. Without me, there would be no food and therefore no movie!”) or a 1st AC pulling focus on camera.
Group mentality takes over. You’re all in it together.
We must get this shot. We must get this shot.
This is when the “adults” are supposed to step in. The producers. The directors. Those actually in charge. A 2nd AC will not speak up. She will not always say, “This doesn’t feel safe. I’m not sure if we should be doing this.”
A producer or a UPM on the other hand can say these things—and has the moral responsibility to do so. Because, in addition to making sure the show is coming in on budget, they are responsible for the well being of every single living person on set.
We must get this shot. We must get this shot.
A producer gains the proper permits and permission from the county to shoot on train tracks. A producer ensures that no trains are coming within the timeframe of the shoot. A producer is an adult who understands that we’re just making silly moving pictures and that that a feature film is not worth the life of a young girl.
I wish someone spoke up. I wish the director said, “This doesn’t feel safe.” I wish a line producer asked, “Are we sure we cleared this with the railroad?”
I wish these things were said because Sarah Jones never could. Because she was a kid at the age of 27. Because it wasn’t her job to ask these questions. Because someone should have had her back and didn’t.
We must get this shot. We must get this shot.
I wonder what Sarah’s dreams and aspirations were? Did she eventually want to become a cinematographer? What were her favorite movies? What inspired her?
Hopefully we will learn from this. It’s been long known that a film set is not exactly the healthiest of environments. You work long days, you sometimes skip meals, your social life is non-existent, and you get very little sleep.
These are frustrating components of this industry. And they are, for now, the standard bearer for many sets. However, one should never fear that they might be killed. It’s absurd when dwelled upon.
We’re just making movies.
Someone in this production should’ve known better. Someone should’ve raised a red flag before arriving on the day.
Because there will always be that voice in the back of your head once you walk on set.
We must get this shot. We must get this shot.
Rest in peace, Ms. Sarah Jones.
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