Thursday, November 6, 2014
Bryan Cranston’s Advice for Actors
Written by Casting Frontier, November 2nd, 2014
Originally Posted on Casting Frontier
Bryan Cranston was driven to be a “good, respected, working actor”–and he’s achieved this goal with flying colors. Not only has he been a working actor for 30 years, but he’s won several Emmy awards to boot. Cranston is best known for playing the calloused chemistry teacher, Walter White in AMC’s drama series Breaking Bad, as well as Hal, the father on the Fox comedy series Malcolm in the Middle.
In this 2013 AreUaStar video, Bryan shares acting advice based on what he learned while on his quest to maintain a career as a working actor. He advises, “My easy answer is: ACT. Find a place to act.” Cranston himself got his start at the Granada Theatre in the San Fernando Valley in California after college. As he was studying police science he was required to take elective courses, so decided to take acting and stagecraft classes. Mind you, both his parents were actors, and they didn’t want Bryan to follow them into the business. This means Bryan didn’t pursue acting seriously until he reached his late twenties.
Another suggestion he discusses is for actors to, “Go do your job, and go home.” No matter how desperate you are for work, he asserts, “No casting director will ever say, ‘That person really needs a job, let’s hire them.’” So he counsels actors to be ready to give their best interpretation of the material, and be satisfied they tried their best. Also, be ready and willing to keep working other side jobs–even for years–to sustain the ability to audition. For instance, Bryan’s other jobs included being an ordained, part-time minister. As he previously said, “I learned long ago to focus on things you can control, and don’t even pay attention to things you don’t.”
Cranston encourages actors to keep the faith that “it’s going to work for you.” Sometimes a lost opportunity can be a blessing in disguise. When disappointments arise, Bryan advises actors to keep the mind frame, “Maybe there’s something that’s really right for me right around the corner.” Indeed, Cranston once demonstrated his faith in achieving his career goals when he said, ”I’ve got a whole mantel just waiting for those awards to come, a whole big mantel. There’s just so much available space. I’ve got the light fixtures hanging from the ceiling, all ready to shine on them. I dust it off every day.”
Hoping his words inspire you in your quest to become the actor you most aspire to be!
Wednesday, June 25, 2014
Friday, June 20, 2014
Tuesday, March 11, 2014
Hollywood Continues to Flee California at Alarming Rate
Originally posted on www.Variety.com by Dave McNary
Film Reporter
@Variety_DMcNary
http://variety.com/2014/film/news/even-films-set-in-california-are-shooting-elsewhere-to-save-money-1201125523/
When Paul Audley took the job as president of FilmL.A. in late 2008, he was astounded to discover that physical production on the $70 million pic “Battle: Los Angeles” wasn’t being done in Los Angeles.
“It stunned me that the movie was shooting in Louisiana, and that the state of California was letting this happen,” he recalls.
In the subsequent five years, the situation has only worsened, despite the film production incentive program California enacted in 2009, which provides for $100 million a year in tax credits for what’s usually 20% of production costs. That’s significantly smaller than programs offered by other states such as New York, which offers $420 million a year in credits for 30% of production costs.
The trend has been mounting for high-profile films set in the Golden State to be filmed almost entirely outside California, due to lucrative tax breaks elsewhere that producers can’t turn down. One key component of new legislation to strengthen California’s incentive program, introduced Feb. 19, would raise to $100 million the current budget cap of $75 million on eligible productions. To drive home the need for state support, attendees at a Feb. 22 rally in Burbank held by Hollywood unionists were handed petitions to send to Sacramento citing that only one of 41 big-budget feature films shot in 2012 and 2013 was shot entirely in California.
The latest example of a locally set runaway is New Line’s upcoming earthquake thriller “San Andreas,” in which a helicopter pilot played by Dwayne Johnson rescues his daughter in San Francisco after a 10.0 quake. Except for six planned days of shooting in San Francisco, the entire $100 million movie will be made in Australia at the Village Roadshow Studios in Gold Coast, Queensland.
In December, “San Andreas” was granted a portion of Australia’s $20 million film fund set up specifically to attract overseas movies. Additionally, the film benefits from offsets from the Queensland Production Incentive Scheme, as well as local payroll tax rebates and federal rebates. Queensland officials have estimated that the movie will pump $30 million into the state economy, employ 70 local production crew, and provide roles for more than 2,000 extras.
“It’s frustrating to get only a few days shooting in San Francisco, but it’s better than nothing,” said San Francisco film commissioner Susannah Robbins. “Once again, the producers are going to where they’re getting the best incentive.”
There were even fewer days — four — shot in San Francisco for Legendary’s upcoming tentpole “Godzilla,” with most of the filming being done in Vancouver and Hawaii. Fox took a similar tack with its forthcoming summer release “Dawn of the Planet of the Apes” and that pic’s 2011 predecessor “Rise of the Planet of the Apes,” both of which were shot primarily in Canada with a few days of establishing shots in San Francisco.
“Producers tell us, ‘I’d love to shoot here but I have to go where the incentives are,’ ” Robbins notes.
Robbins has been touting San Francisco’s rebate program — which provides for up to $600,000 of production costs including rentals, street closures, permit fees, payroll taxes and police officers — in order to overcome the ingrained belief that such programs don’t exist in California. “We had eight productions use the rebate in its first six years, and we’ve had seven more since July.” San Francisco has a tradition as an iconic film location, with such titles as “Bullitt,” “Dirty Harry” and “Vertigo” having filmed in the city.
Further south, not a frame of “Rock of Ages,” set on the Sunset Strip, was shot in Los Angeles, although filming did take place in Hollywood — Florida, that is — at the Hard Rock Casino, along with a six-block section of North Miami Avenue in downtown Miami, decorated as a late-1980s version set of the Strip, replete with the Whisky-a-Go-Go, Frederick’s of Hollywood, Tower Records and the Angelyne Billboard.
Even the ruins of a future Los Angeles shown in “Elysium” were shot in Mexico and Canada.
Steve Dayan, who serves as vice chairman of the state film commission and secretary-treasurer of Local 399 of the Intl. Brotherhood of Teamsters, spoke at the Feb. 22 labor rally, promising his union would be willing to repeat its 1999 action of encircling the State Capitol in Sacramento with 200 Teamster trucks — a tactic used to campaign for incentives. “We are not going to let other states poach our jobs,” he said, evoking loud applause from the 700-plus attendees.
Audley’s agency is tasked with troubleshooting and simplifying the permit process. He’s been pressing the point that although location-based feature production increased by 18% in Los Angeles last year, to 6,900 days, that number is only half what it was in 1996. And the growth is not coming in higher value projects. Audley said. “(Other states are cherry picking the best stuff away from us,” he noted.
Dayan admits that producers have been substituting locations for as long as films have been shot. “Downtown L.A. has been used for New York City many times,” he said. But he noted that production costs on big features are now so high that it’s impossible for producers to shoot in town.
“We’re making the argument that by creating and retaining jobs, the new legislation would pay for itself,” he explained.
While statistics abound that show the extent of the economic impact of locally set runaways, on another level, the issue is emotional. The Feb. 22 rally featured an impassioned declaration by Maria Elena Durazo, secretary-treasurer of the Los Angeles County Federation of Labor, who pledged that organized labor will back the push for an improved film incentive.
“We are going to stand with you to make sure Hollywood does not become Detroit,” she declared. “I’ll be damned if we’re going to stand by and see the last film industry worker here turn out the lights. Hell, no!”
http://variety.com/2014/film/news/even-films-set-in-california-are-shooting-elsewhere-to-save-money-1201125523/
When Paul Audley took the job as president of FilmL.A. in late 2008, he was astounded to discover that physical production on the $70 million pic “Battle: Los Angeles” wasn’t being done in Los Angeles.
In the subsequent five years, the situation has only worsened, despite the film production incentive program California enacted in 2009, which provides for $100 million a year in tax credits for what’s usually 20% of production costs. That’s significantly smaller than programs offered by other states such as New York, which offers $420 million a year in credits for 30% of production costs.
The trend has been mounting for high-profile films set in the Golden State to be filmed almost entirely outside California, due to lucrative tax breaks elsewhere that producers can’t turn down. One key component of new legislation to strengthen California’s incentive program, introduced Feb. 19, would raise to $100 million the current budget cap of $75 million on eligible productions. To drive home the need for state support, attendees at a Feb. 22 rally in Burbank held by Hollywood unionists were handed petitions to send to Sacramento citing that only one of 41 big-budget feature films shot in 2012 and 2013 was shot entirely in California.
The latest example of a locally set runaway is New Line’s upcoming earthquake thriller “San Andreas,” in which a helicopter pilot played by Dwayne Johnson rescues his daughter in San Francisco after a 10.0 quake. Except for six planned days of shooting in San Francisco, the entire $100 million movie will be made in Australia at the Village Roadshow Studios in Gold Coast, Queensland.
In December, “San Andreas” was granted a portion of Australia’s $20 million film fund set up specifically to attract overseas movies. Additionally, the film benefits from offsets from the Queensland Production Incentive Scheme, as well as local payroll tax rebates and federal rebates. Queensland officials have estimated that the movie will pump $30 million into the state economy, employ 70 local production crew, and provide roles for more than 2,000 extras.
“It’s frustrating to get only a few days shooting in San Francisco, but it’s better than nothing,” said San Francisco film commissioner Susannah Robbins. “Once again, the producers are going to where they’re getting the best incentive.”
There were even fewer days — four — shot in San Francisco for Legendary’s upcoming tentpole “Godzilla,” with most of the filming being done in Vancouver and Hawaii. Fox took a similar tack with its forthcoming summer release “Dawn of the Planet of the Apes” and that pic’s 2011 predecessor “Rise of the Planet of the Apes,” both of which were shot primarily in Canada with a few days of establishing shots in San Francisco.
“Producers tell us, ‘I’d love to shoot here but I have to go where the incentives are,’ ” Robbins notes.
Robbins has been touting San Francisco’s rebate program — which provides for up to $600,000 of production costs including rentals, street closures, permit fees, payroll taxes and police officers — in order to overcome the ingrained belief that such programs don’t exist in California. “We had eight productions use the rebate in its first six years, and we’ve had seven more since July.” San Francisco has a tradition as an iconic film location, with such titles as “Bullitt,” “Dirty Harry” and “Vertigo” having filmed in the city.
Further south, not a frame of “Rock of Ages,” set on the Sunset Strip, was shot in Los Angeles, although filming did take place in Hollywood — Florida, that is — at the Hard Rock Casino, along with a six-block section of North Miami Avenue in downtown Miami, decorated as a late-1980s version set of the Strip, replete with the Whisky-a-Go-Go, Frederick’s of Hollywood, Tower Records and the Angelyne Billboard.
Even the ruins of a future Los Angeles shown in “Elysium” were shot in Mexico and Canada.
Steve Dayan, who serves as vice chairman of the state film commission and secretary-treasurer of Local 399 of the Intl. Brotherhood of Teamsters, spoke at the Feb. 22 labor rally, promising his union would be willing to repeat its 1999 action of encircling the State Capitol in Sacramento with 200 Teamster trucks — a tactic used to campaign for incentives. “We are not going to let other states poach our jobs,” he said, evoking loud applause from the 700-plus attendees.
Audley’s agency is tasked with troubleshooting and simplifying the permit process. He’s been pressing the point that although location-based feature production increased by 18% in Los Angeles last year, to 6,900 days, that number is only half what it was in 1996. And the growth is not coming in higher value projects. Audley said. “(Other states are cherry picking the best stuff away from us,” he noted.
Dayan admits that producers have been substituting locations for as long as films have been shot. “Downtown L.A. has been used for New York City many times,” he said. But he noted that production costs on big features are now so high that it’s impossible for producers to shoot in town.
“We’re making the argument that by creating and retaining jobs, the new legislation would pay for itself,” he explained.
While statistics abound that show the extent of the economic impact of locally set runaways, on another level, the issue is emotional. The Feb. 22 rally featured an impassioned declaration by Maria Elena Durazo, secretary-treasurer of the Los Angeles County Federation of Labor, who pledged that organized labor will back the push for an improved film incentive.
“We are going to stand with you to make sure Hollywood does not become Detroit,” she declared. “I’ll be damned if we’re going to stand by and see the last film industry worker here turn out the lights. Hell, no!”
Thursday, February 27, 2014
We’re Just Making Movies
Originally Posted on http://wehaveembarked.com/
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.
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.
Wednesday, February 26, 2014
How to Survive on Set Without Looking Like an A**hole
Originally posted on http://callamrodya.com by Callam Rodya
http://callamrodya.com/2014/02/23/how-to-survive-a-day-on-set-without-looking-like-an-asshole/
When it comes to film work, actors have it the easiest. Don’t argue. You know it’s true.
In case you need a bit more convincing, consider this:
So, with that in mind, it’s especially important for us actors not be assholes. Chances are good that when you show up on the day, your approval rating among the crew is already pretty low. After all, they’ve been there for two hours already.
To improve your chances of surviving the day without coming across as spoiled, pampered, pretentious talent, here are some tips I have learned to follow religiously:
Follow me @callamrodya.
DISCLAIMER: I am not an acting coach, nor am I a veteran of the stage and screen. Just look at my IMDB profile and you will see that. I am simply a young actor at the foot of his career mountain with a few insights to share. Take ‘em or leave ‘em.
http://callamrodya.com/2014/02/23/how-to-survive-a-day-on-set-without-looking-like-an-asshole/
When it comes to film work, actors have it the easiest. Don’t argue. You know it’s true.
In case you need a bit more convincing, consider this:
- We’re the last ones called and the first ones wrapped.
- There is a team on set whose sole job is to make us look beautiful.
- They tell us where to stand, where to walk, and what to say, and they even put down little pieces of tape for us and print out our lines on little pocket-sized sheets to make it extra easy.
- We get to stay warm in the trailer while they’re out there in a snow storm setting up the shot.
- We usually get paid better.
- We get all the credit.
So, with that in mind, it’s especially important for us actors not be assholes. Chances are good that when you show up on the day, your approval rating among the crew is already pretty low. After all, they’ve been there for two hours already.
To improve your chances of surviving the day without coming across as spoiled, pampered, pretentious talent, here are some tips I have learned to follow religiously:
- If you have an early call time in the morning, set 14 alarms. Request a wakeup call. Drink 18 litres of water so you wake up early to take a piss. The worst thing an actor can do is put everyone behind schedule by arriving late on set. I know, because I’ve done it.
- When you break for lunch, let the crew eat first. They’re actually hungry. You spent half the morning in the craft truck.
- Some actors like to hang out on set even when it’s not their scene to shoot. That’s okay, but stay the fuck out of everyone’s way.
- Don’t ask people to get you things. If they offer, sure, why not? But be thankful.
- Police your own continuity and remember exactly what you did in the master when it comes time to shoot the closeups. Continuity on set, especially on small projects, can easily get overlooked and it’s a bitch for the editor to create a seamless cut when that glass you’re holding keeps switching hands or moving around the table.
- Try to learn everyone’s name as quickly as possible, especially the departments you’re going to be working closest with (hair/makeup, wardrobe, ADs, camera, audio). You’ll come across much more as a decent human being when you can say “Hey, [correct name], the mic pack is digging into my spine. Would you mind repositioning it?”
- Hit your marks like a precision airstrike. You’re just wasting a take if you and that focus point the camera assistant marked aren’t going to align.
- Learn your lines and be able to do the entire scene in one take. Sure, you might not need to run the whole thing in one shot, but editors usually prefer long takes to 1000 cuts in a scene. Give them the option.
- Don’t show up on set wrecked because you went out partying last night. You’re making everyone’s job harder, especially makeup.
- Say thank you to everything. EVERYTHING.
- Don’t ask the director questions that you could direct to someone else. They are very busy and don’t need to choose which hand you should hold the prop phone in.
- Put your cigarettes out in the butt can. Otherwise, some poor locations PA has to pick them up while you’re heading back to your hotel or wherever.
- Don’t be a critic. Your makeup is fine. Your hair is fine. Your wardrobe is fine. The camera position is fine. If you don’t like something, respectfully suggest a different option or shut the hell up.
- A good director will allow you freedom to massage your lines to make them more natural. But don’t alter the story. Or the character. And don’t go overboard. And don’t add lines just to try and increase your screen time.
- Don’t make extra work. There are exactly the right number of people on set and they each have a critical job to do that will keep them busy all day. They’re not bored.
- Don’t fuck with set dressing. That “mess” has been positioned deliberately. That is someone’s work.
- In between takes, don’t fuck around. You might have a three-minute break but nobody else does. They’re busy resetting.
- If you’re one of those “method” or “internal” types, stay in your trailer until you’re called on set. If you can’t do that, don’t snap at the friendly boom op for “pulling you out of your zone” because he asked you if you’ve seen the “Breaking Bad” finale.
- Know what the shot is. And if the camera isn’t on you, your performance isn’t important to anyone else except your scene partners. So don’t milk it.
- Don’t ask for notes after every take. If the director has one, he/she will tell you. Otherwise, do the same exact thing again.
- Ask for another take ONLY if you know you can do better. Otherwise, you’re just wasting everyone’s time.
- After you’ve shot the master, and the wide, and the mediums, and are setting up for the closeups is NOT the time to “try something”.
- Don’t touch ANYTHING. Not the camera, not the lights, not the props, not the mics, not the storyboards, not the monitor, not the cables. Nothing.
- Don’t try to do anyone else’s job. You’re the talent, not the DOP, not the key grip, and certainly not the director. Do YOUR job and your job alone.
- Don’t tell the crew that “they are the real stars”. It’s just a stupid fucking thing to say and nobody believes you believe it anyway.
- Compliment other people’s work. The lighting is great. That focus pull was unreal. That set looks insane. Yes, you’re good too, but people will be telling you that for months, if not years, after this thing wraps. The others, not so much.
- When you’re wrapped, don’t do a blanket “great day, everyone! Thank you!” Go up to each person individually and thank them sincerely for their contribution to a project that, ultimately, will be more about you than them.
Follow me @callamrodya.
DISCLAIMER: I am not an acting coach, nor am I a veteran of the stage and screen. Just look at my IMDB profile and you will see that. I am simply a young actor at the foot of his career mountain with a few insights to share. Take ‘em or leave ‘em.
Tuesday, February 25, 2014
6 Lies of Film Distribution
Originally posted on WritersStore.com by Jerome Courshon
http://www.writersstore.com/6-lies-of-film-distribution/
One of the major Achilles’ heels for film producers and directors is the distribution game. Once you’ve made your movie, what do you do? How do you play the game? What strategies do you employ? Is there even a strategy?
Well, there’s good news and bad news. The good news is there are indeed strategies to use and employ. The bad news is that most filmmakers don’t know what they are, and flounder around trying to figure them out. What’s even worse is too many filmmakers throwing in the towel and just dumping their film online, hoping it “hits” somehow.
In this article, I’m going to debunk some prevalent lies (or “myths”) about achieving distribution. This will give you some insight into the game, should you be looking for distribution now or preparing for your production.
Myth #1: I’m a director, a filmmaker, a creative person. Telling stories is my thing and if I make a good movie, I don’t have to worry about the business stuff or the marketing because someone else will do that.
Truth #1: There are of course some people who get lucky and either have a producing partner who does all the business & marketing (and is good at it), or they have the money to hire the right people to do everything.
However for most this isn’t the case, especially if one’s film career is in the early stages. You need to become a businessperson once your movie or documentary is done. At least until it’s sold (or until you’re done selling if you’re DIY’ing it).
Why?
Because distribution is business, and distributors don’t care if you’ve made the greatest indie film/art film/documentary of the past 20 years. What they care about is if it will make them money. (And your audience, if you’re DIY’ing your film, needs to believe they’ll be sufficiently entertained and/or enlightened before they’ll buy a DVD or pay to watch it online.) The more you can become a “salesperson” and marketing maven, the more success you will have on your quest for distribution or sales.
Yes, I know this part isn’t nearly as sexy and fun as making movies and can be downright boring at times. But what Orson Welles famously said about the film business is still true today: “It's about 2% moviemaking and 98% hustling.”
Myth #2: Distributors are calling me and they’re excited to see my movie! I’ll send it to them and if they like it, they’ll acquire it!
Truth #2: All major distributors track the movies that have been listed in the trades under their production columns. If you were in those columns, you’re going to be phoned. Do not send them a rough cut. Do not send them a final cut. Do not send them the movie. If you do, you will not get a theatrical distribution deal, if this is what you are aiming for.
You must “unveil” your movie in the right place at the right time, such as a top film festival, to get the theatrical buyers to really want your feature. Movies do not get picked up for theatrical releases that have been sent on a DVD to a distributor. So when they call asking to see a screener, you’ll say “It’s not ready, but I appreciate your call. Check back with me in a month or two.” (And you’ll do this every time they call, until you’re ready for the grand unveiling.)
Myth #3: My movie was selected for the Sundance Film Festival! Woohooo! All I have to do is show up and I will get a deal!
Truth #3: Okay, you won the lottery and got a slot at one of the top three film festivals (Sundance, Toronto, Cannes) for your movie premiere. Guess what? Your work hasn’t even begun yet. You now must assemble a team of people: a PR firm, an agent from one of the top agencies in Los Angeles, an attorney, and possibly a producer’s rep. (But beware…most producer’s reps are useless.)
You will have to work, strategize and position your movie, before it premieres, as a very desirable movie that distributors must have. You have one shot at the top festivals for a theatrical deal, so don’t piss it away. Unfortunately, most filmmakers don’t know or understand this. They get a slot at Sundance or Toronto, don’t assemble a team or promote their film properly, and then come away without a deal and are entirely lost as to their next step.
Myth #4: I was rejected by the top festivals, so now I’m submitting and getting accepted by the next tier of festivals. This is cool. All I have to do is show up to my screenings and I’m treated like a rock star. Distribution, here I come!
Truth #4: Yeah, okay, if this is you, at least you’re having fun. But you’re not going to get distribution this way. There is a real purpose to the festival circuit beyond the top festivals that most people, even Hollywood veterans, simply do not understand. The obvious purpose is, of course, exposure. But there is actually a MORE important purpose: Building a Pedigree.
What is a Pedigree?
It is an accumulation of press coverage, interviews, quotes from critics, and awards if you can get them, which says you have a winning movie on your hands. Once you methodically build this pedigree, which takes some work on the festival circuit, you are then ready to parlay this into a distribution deal (or healthy sales). It’s a simple concept that most do not grasp; yet it is extremely powerful and effective for independent films that don’t get into the top festivals. There is real psychology involved in the “art” of selling a movie or documentary. Ignore at your own risk. However, if you learn this “art,” you will have success.
Myth #5: I’ve submitted my movie to the 15 home video companies out there. I’ve even talked to producer friends and looked at industry reference books for whom to submit to. If these 15 companies say ‘No,’ I’m out of luck for a home video deal.
Truth #5: This truth right here may be worth serious dollars to you. There are literally over 100 home video companies in the marketplace, all operating under their own labels. On top of that are additional companies that pick up movies and programming that have output deals with these distributors. So if you think you’ve exhausted your search for a home video deal and have only contacted a handful of companies, you’ve simply just begun.
And don’t buy the occasional diatribe out there that DVD is dead. It’s not. It is still the largest revenue generating segment of the entire film industry. Last year alone, it generated $16-17 billion in revenues. That’s billion with a ‘B.’
Myth #6: I’m going to bypass traditional distribution altogether, sell my movie on the internet myself and make a ton of money from DVD sales and digital streaming (VOD).
Truth #6: Not likely. For every 5000 movies being made every year, there are less than 20 who make serious money this way. WHY? It’s hard work. It takes time (a lot of it), it takes specific strategies, and you become the de facto distributor for a good year, if not longer. Which isn’t an exciting proposition for most filmmakers, who’ve already been on a lengthy and arduous journey of making their film.
However, some who go this route do it very successfully. They’re either great at marketing already, or great learners. And they’re very committed to achieving success, so they really do what it takes to win. Also, the budget of your movie can dictate if this route is viable for you. If you’ve made a $10,000 movie, it’s not that difficult to recoup this amount, with some decent work. But if your budget was $1 million, good luck making your money back using only the internet. You’ll either need traditional distribution, or a hybrid approach of both traditional and non-traditional.
So these are a few of the popular and misleading myths out there, and the truth about them. With 5000 (or more) movies being made every single year, that’s a lot of producers and directors working with often erroneous information. Not to mention an overwhelming number of movies vying for a limited number of distribution slots. These two factors combined can make for a daunting journey filled with frustration and failure.
The silver lining however, is that with the right knowledge, coupled with dedicated and diligent work, anyone with a decent film can achieve success. Anyone. But it does take the right knowledge. You do not have to have star names in your movie to get a deal or have success, and your movie does not have to be phenomenal. If it’s at least decent, you do have a real shot.
http://www.writersstore.com/6-lies-of-film-distribution/
One of the major Achilles’ heels for film producers and directors is the distribution game. Once you’ve made your movie, what do you do? How do you play the game? What strategies do you employ? Is there even a strategy?
Well, there’s good news and bad news. The good news is there are indeed strategies to use and employ. The bad news is that most filmmakers don’t know what they are, and flounder around trying to figure them out. What’s even worse is too many filmmakers throwing in the towel and just dumping their film online, hoping it “hits” somehow.
In this article, I’m going to debunk some prevalent lies (or “myths”) about achieving distribution. This will give you some insight into the game, should you be looking for distribution now or preparing for your production.
Myth #1: I’m a director, a filmmaker, a creative person. Telling stories is my thing and if I make a good movie, I don’t have to worry about the business stuff or the marketing because someone else will do that.
Truth #1: There are of course some people who get lucky and either have a producing partner who does all the business & marketing (and is good at it), or they have the money to hire the right people to do everything.
However for most this isn’t the case, especially if one’s film career is in the early stages. You need to become a businessperson once your movie or documentary is done. At least until it’s sold (or until you’re done selling if you’re DIY’ing it).
Why?
Because distribution is business, and distributors don’t care if you’ve made the greatest indie film/art film/documentary of the past 20 years. What they care about is if it will make them money. (And your audience, if you’re DIY’ing your film, needs to believe they’ll be sufficiently entertained and/or enlightened before they’ll buy a DVD or pay to watch it online.) The more you can become a “salesperson” and marketing maven, the more success you will have on your quest for distribution or sales.
Yes, I know this part isn’t nearly as sexy and fun as making movies and can be downright boring at times. But what Orson Welles famously said about the film business is still true today: “It's about 2% moviemaking and 98% hustling.”
Myth #2: Distributors are calling me and they’re excited to see my movie! I’ll send it to them and if they like it, they’ll acquire it!
Truth #2: All major distributors track the movies that have been listed in the trades under their production columns. If you were in those columns, you’re going to be phoned. Do not send them a rough cut. Do not send them a final cut. Do not send them the movie. If you do, you will not get a theatrical distribution deal, if this is what you are aiming for.
You must “unveil” your movie in the right place at the right time, such as a top film festival, to get the theatrical buyers to really want your feature. Movies do not get picked up for theatrical releases that have been sent on a DVD to a distributor. So when they call asking to see a screener, you’ll say “It’s not ready, but I appreciate your call. Check back with me in a month or two.” (And you’ll do this every time they call, until you’re ready for the grand unveiling.)
Myth #3: My movie was selected for the Sundance Film Festival! Woohooo! All I have to do is show up and I will get a deal!
Truth #3: Okay, you won the lottery and got a slot at one of the top three film festivals (Sundance, Toronto, Cannes) for your movie premiere. Guess what? Your work hasn’t even begun yet. You now must assemble a team of people: a PR firm, an agent from one of the top agencies in Los Angeles, an attorney, and possibly a producer’s rep. (But beware…most producer’s reps are useless.)
You will have to work, strategize and position your movie, before it premieres, as a very desirable movie that distributors must have. You have one shot at the top festivals for a theatrical deal, so don’t piss it away. Unfortunately, most filmmakers don’t know or understand this. They get a slot at Sundance or Toronto, don’t assemble a team or promote their film properly, and then come away without a deal and are entirely lost as to their next step.
Myth #4: I was rejected by the top festivals, so now I’m submitting and getting accepted by the next tier of festivals. This is cool. All I have to do is show up to my screenings and I’m treated like a rock star. Distribution, here I come!
Truth #4: Yeah, okay, if this is you, at least you’re having fun. But you’re not going to get distribution this way. There is a real purpose to the festival circuit beyond the top festivals that most people, even Hollywood veterans, simply do not understand. The obvious purpose is, of course, exposure. But there is actually a MORE important purpose: Building a Pedigree.
What is a Pedigree?
It is an accumulation of press coverage, interviews, quotes from critics, and awards if you can get them, which says you have a winning movie on your hands. Once you methodically build this pedigree, which takes some work on the festival circuit, you are then ready to parlay this into a distribution deal (or healthy sales). It’s a simple concept that most do not grasp; yet it is extremely powerful and effective for independent films that don’t get into the top festivals. There is real psychology involved in the “art” of selling a movie or documentary. Ignore at your own risk. However, if you learn this “art,” you will have success.
Myth #5: I’ve submitted my movie to the 15 home video companies out there. I’ve even talked to producer friends and looked at industry reference books for whom to submit to. If these 15 companies say ‘No,’ I’m out of luck for a home video deal.
Truth #5: This truth right here may be worth serious dollars to you. There are literally over 100 home video companies in the marketplace, all operating under their own labels. On top of that are additional companies that pick up movies and programming that have output deals with these distributors. So if you think you’ve exhausted your search for a home video deal and have only contacted a handful of companies, you’ve simply just begun.
And don’t buy the occasional diatribe out there that DVD is dead. It’s not. It is still the largest revenue generating segment of the entire film industry. Last year alone, it generated $16-17 billion in revenues. That’s billion with a ‘B.’
Myth #6: I’m going to bypass traditional distribution altogether, sell my movie on the internet myself and make a ton of money from DVD sales and digital streaming (VOD).
Truth #6: Not likely. For every 5000 movies being made every year, there are less than 20 who make serious money this way. WHY? It’s hard work. It takes time (a lot of it), it takes specific strategies, and you become the de facto distributor for a good year, if not longer. Which isn’t an exciting proposition for most filmmakers, who’ve already been on a lengthy and arduous journey of making their film.
However, some who go this route do it very successfully. They’re either great at marketing already, or great learners. And they’re very committed to achieving success, so they really do what it takes to win. Also, the budget of your movie can dictate if this route is viable for you. If you’ve made a $10,000 movie, it’s not that difficult to recoup this amount, with some decent work. But if your budget was $1 million, good luck making your money back using only the internet. You’ll either need traditional distribution, or a hybrid approach of both traditional and non-traditional.
So these are a few of the popular and misleading myths out there, and the truth about them. With 5000 (or more) movies being made every single year, that’s a lot of producers and directors working with often erroneous information. Not to mention an overwhelming number of movies vying for a limited number of distribution slots. These two factors combined can make for a daunting journey filled with frustration and failure.
The silver lining however, is that with the right knowledge, coupled with dedicated and diligent work, anyone with a decent film can achieve success. Anyone. But it does take the right knowledge. You do not have to have star names in your movie to get a deal or have success, and your movie does not have to be phenomenal. If it’s at least decent, you do have a real shot.
Tuesday, January 28, 2014
This article originally posted on grantland.com
So Money
An oral history of Swingers
by Alex French and Howie Kahn on January 22, 2014
Suddenly,
heartbreak fed the need to wear ribbed tank undershirts. You got
crushed? You hid under a fedora. She left? You bought vintage bowling
shoes, threw on some Sinatra, and pretended to understand the virtues of
single-malt scotch. Any Glen. You’d start introducing your best
friends as “the Guy Behind the Guy” while secretly praying somebody
would see something redeeming in you. They could only properly confirm
it with one phrase: “You’re so money, and you don’t even know it.”
Hearing that helped. Even if all you were going home to was Dean Martin crooning “you’re nobody till somebody loves you” on repeat.
Breakups lead to delusional behavior, and recovery often begins with role-playing — pretending you’re confident when your skin barely feels thick enough to hold in your own bones. That’s normal. Less normal was what happened in 1996, when Swingers — a low-budget, independent film written by an unknown named Jon Favreau — slowly found its way into the hands of forlorn twentysomethings looking for a new way to party.
It was a movie about feelings for guys learning to be men, predating the modern Apatovian bromance by years. Swingers had its own restorative slang and presented a world — or a part of Los Angeles, anyway — with a version of cool that seemed both exotic and utterly attainable. It introduced characters so instantly loved and relatable that guys began assigning those parts to their own friends. Trents dancing on tables, saving vulnerable Mikeys from their own doldrums, were everywhere. We got in touch with our inner Robs, placing value on patience and listening.
Big Bad Voodoo Daddy earned its slot in the six-disc changer. Wayne Gretzky’s head bled over and over. Vince Vaughn became every dude’s man crush years before that term even became a meme. Swingers transcended moviedom. It became both a security blanket and a lifestyle.
But it almost didn’t happen. The funding was meager. The film supply, short. The camera, crap. Distribution seemed like a pipe dream and then it bombed at the box office. But like the characters onscreen, the men and women behind the scenes were full of pluck, resolve, and youthful vigor. They learned as they went and came out of it all growns up … and all growns up … and all growns up.
After watching Swingers until the tape, on permanent loan from Blockbuster, wore out, we felt securely all growns up, too.
Alex French (@FrenchAlexM) and Howie Kahn (@HowieKahn_) are Grantland contributors.
Illustration by Sean McCabe.
Hearing that helped. Even if all you were going home to was Dean Martin crooning “you’re nobody till somebody loves you” on repeat.
Breakups lead to delusional behavior, and recovery often begins with role-playing — pretending you’re confident when your skin barely feels thick enough to hold in your own bones. That’s normal. Less normal was what happened in 1996, when Swingers — a low-budget, independent film written by an unknown named Jon Favreau — slowly found its way into the hands of forlorn twentysomethings looking for a new way to party.
It was a movie about feelings for guys learning to be men, predating the modern Apatovian bromance by years. Swingers had its own restorative slang and presented a world — or a part of Los Angeles, anyway — with a version of cool that seemed both exotic and utterly attainable. It introduced characters so instantly loved and relatable that guys began assigning those parts to their own friends. Trents dancing on tables, saving vulnerable Mikeys from their own doldrums, were everywhere. We got in touch with our inner Robs, placing value on patience and listening.
Big Bad Voodoo Daddy earned its slot in the six-disc changer. Wayne Gretzky’s head bled over and over. Vince Vaughn became every dude’s man crush years before that term even became a meme. Swingers transcended moviedom. It became both a security blanket and a lifestyle.
But it almost didn’t happen. The funding was meager. The film supply, short. The camera, crap. Distribution seemed like a pipe dream and then it bombed at the box office. But like the characters onscreen, the men and women behind the scenes were full of pluck, resolve, and youthful vigor. They learned as they went and came out of it all growns up … and all growns up … and all growns up.
After watching Swingers until the tape, on permanent loan from Blockbuster, wore out, we felt securely all growns up, too.
“That Mid-Twenties Thing When You’re Trying to Pull Your Shit Together”
Jon Favreau (Mike): When I set out to write Swingers,
I didn’t know I was even writing a movie. My dad had given me a
screenwriting program and I started the script just as an exercise to
see if I could write a screenplay. Swingers is what came out.
Ron Livingston (Rob): Jon was
really busted up over his breakup. That’s right about the age when your
first long-term thing comes apart. Having your heart ripped out like
that — that’s a lot different than the cheerleader who doesn’t like you
back.
Favreau: I started writing, just
drawing from the environment I was living in. I had characters loosely
based on people I knew. None of the events were real; it was all a story
that came out of my head without an outline.
Alex Désert (Charles): I like to say Swingers was us times 10. I wish I could be that cool.
Favreau: I had been broken up with by
my old girlfriend from Chicago who I’d lived with, and I was taking it
pretty hard and I was feeling pretty lonely. And then I was realizing
that even though I had been in movies already, the work was not going to
come easy — that frustration brought on the writing. I was taking
things into my own hands.
Livingston: Jon and I met in Chicago
before either of us moved to L.A. I was 25 and living with roommates,
just that mid-twenties thing when you’re trying to pull your shit
together. I was doing theater and a bunch of my buddies were doing
improv comedy. Jon was on one of the house teams at Improv Olympic.
Vince Vaughn (Trent): When I
was in high school, I actually performed at some classes at the Improv
Olympic. Jon and I had that in common, so we hit it off on the set of Rudy, just joking around with each other.
Favreau: I wrote the screenplay in
about a week and a half. The writing process wasn’t filled with any sort
of turmoil. If you really do the math, it’s 10 days, 10 pages a day.
It’s not like you’re chained to the computer. I was just entertaining
myself and really enjoying it, sort of giggling at it as I was writing
it. I couldn’t wait to share it with my friends more as, like, doodles
in the notebook than saying, “Hey, here’s my big movie.”
Vaughn: It was a typical actor’s life:
auditioning and hoping to get parts. I didn’t have an agent. I had
gotten parts on and off after high school. I would work, but not
steadily.
Favreau: Vince came out here as a teenager, so he was doing after-school specials; I came out after Rudy
so I was more of a grown-up. He kind of grew up out here. You know,
those college years he spent here getting into the acting game, whereas I
was sort of in Chicago and then at college. I didn’t get here until I
was much older.1
1. Favreau, who grew up in Queens, New
York, and moved to Chicago to pursue a comedy career, headed to L.A. in
1993, in his mid-twenties.
Livingston: We got to L.A. at around
the same time, and it was that thing where you become friends with the
only guy in town that you know; with me, it was Favs. Of course, he knew
Vince, and as soon as he hit town, Vince took him under his wing.
Adam Scott (Favreau’s then-neighbor): I wasn’t involved with Swingers
at all, I just lived downstairs from Jon and we were kinda friendly
because we’d see each other at auditions and in the hallway. The
building was a reasonably comfortable shithole in Hollywood right next
to the Scientology Celebrity Centre and a pet toy store. One time Jon
came by my apartment and was just like, Jeeeesus Christ. My
apartment was disgusting. I remember him talking about how when you live
in a place like this, you really need to keep it clean, otherwise
you’re just gonna feel disgusting about yourself.
Vaughn: I remember saying to Jon after
auditioning for a lot of stuff that we weren’t seeing the best
material. Even the movies that were getting made, I thought, were not
dialed into the time period, not really capturing real life. I said to
him, “Ya know, it would be great if you didn’t have to audition for this
stuff,” and then Jon went and wrote Swingers.
Nicole LaLoggia (line producer): I was at a very small development company in Los Angeles and we made Doug Liman’s first film, Getting In.
We filmed in North Carolina. Doug and I became very close friends and
housemates for almost 10 years. On that first movie, one of the people
that read for a particular part was Jon Favreau. We called him back
twice, but, ultimately, he didn’t get it.
Favreau: That role actually ended up going to Dave Chappelle, believe it or not.
Doug Liman (director): I knew
Jon had a script he’d written that he was trying to raise money for. I
had made it my policy at the time to never read a friend’s screenplay in
the interest of preserving that friendship, you know, because
inevitably your friend’s screenplays were not good.
Favreau: I sent the script to my
agent. She sent it out and there were some nibbles. People were
interested in optioning it, but they had a lot of notes. They wanted to
change Vince’s character to a girl and have them not go to Vegas and
said the dialogue was too repetitive, and it had to be darker and more
violent. I was really trying to embrace the notes. I tried to change the
script, but I just couldn’t.
“I Went to One Meeting With an Arms Dealer From, I Think, Iran”
Livingston: At that point, Jon didn’t
really have any aspirations to star in it or direct it or produce it or
be a part of it or any of those things. He was just trying to sell it.
LaLoggia: I started taking meetings with Jon and Victor.2
Crazy meetings. They would come to the table and say, “We love it, we
wanna make it, we wanna give you $8 million, but you’ve gotta cast
Johnny Depp as Trent and we need Chris O’Donnell to be so and so.3
Jon and I would look at them cross-eyed and say, “No. Thank you very
much, here’s your suitcase full of money back, we’re leaving.”
2. Victor Simpkins, who produced Liman’s first movie, would sign on as a producer for Swingers as well. 3. The
meetings were typically with the indie-focused subsidiaries or larger
studios like New Line Cinema’s Fine Line Features, which had produced My Own Private Idaho and Hoop Dreams.
Favreau: I said, “Look, before I
change anything, why don’t we do a staged reading? Let me bring in the
friends of mine that these characters are based on. And that way we
could really hear the script as I intended it so you understand the
dialogue, and then you can also maybe be open-minded, and maybe cast one
of these people?” I figured it’s a shot to put my friends in front of
whatever guy who was going to direct this thing.
Livingston: Vince and I, and a couple of other people — Alex Désert, Ahmed Ahmed,
who’s in the movie — we started doing all of these staged readings for
potential buyers of this script. They came in all shapes and sizes.
Every three months or so, we’d get together in somebody’s living room
and rehearse for a while and then go to some empty theater space and do
it for some guy who had Saudi parking lot money.
LaLoggia: I went to one meeting, with
an arms dealer from, I think, Iran. The craziest meeting I have ever
been in. We had to figure out how to get out of the meeting ’cause it
was scary.
Favreau: He wasn’t Iranian; I think he was Pakistani. He wasn’t Iranian.
LaLoggia: The cash was real, but we
were really freaked out. It was just bad money somehow — or at least to
us — it smelled like bad money.
Livingston: This was really right
before the whole independent film wave in the late ’90s took off. So it
was really only crazy people, oddballs, and weirdos that would even sit
down and entertain the idea of buying this movie. Nobody really wanted
it.
Vaughn: The reading would always play
phenomenally. We did this for over a year and would get huge laughs,
great responses. But the business model was always a problem. You have a
bunch of guys that don’t really mean anything to Hollywood. Jon had
done more than the rest of us, but wasn’t a big enough name to open a
movie. And they always felt the movie was funny but also very specific
to out-of-work actors in Los Angeles. I think they all totally missed
the universality of it: a guy dealing with a breakup and coming of age,
taking a journey with a group of friends, and wanting to meet somebody
to love. Everyone goes through it. And they wanted to replace me, Trent,
with a woman.
Favreau: From that point on, we set out to try and really make the thing on our own with me attached as director.
“It Was an Insane Proposal”
Liman: My roommate, Nicole, had signed
on to become Jon’s producer. It was literally all around me when Jon
and I traveled to Sundance together. He was trying to raise money and I
had my own thing. Neither one of us had read the other one’s project.
LaLoggia: Jon was crazed. We gotta do this right now. It was urgent. I mean he would not leave me alone.
Liman: Jon had been at Sundance, and
there was a brief moment in time when Jason Priestley was flirting with
the idea of playing the character that ultimately went to Vince. There
was this [idea] that if Jason Priestley signed on, they could have
raised a million and a half dollars, and they could’ve gotten the movie
made.
LaLoggia: I started running numbers to
figure out how little could we do it for — what does it look like if
his friends are in it? All those crazy scenarios.
Liman: Jon started asking me a bunch
of questions, because I had been to film school and I had made a bunch
of short films and this straight-to-home-video movie. I still didn’t
have any real experience, but compared to somebody with none, I had
answers. Finally, I was like “You know what? I should just read your
screenplay. I can’t answer these questions without reading it, so how
about I just read it?” So I read the script and loved it.
LaLoggia: Ultimately, we knew Jon had
to relinquish directing. And Doug came to the table and said, “Look, I
love the script, I get what you wanna do, Jon. We can make it ourselves
and sell it, and you’re gonna have to trust me, and we can do this
together.” And they looked at me and said, “How low can you do this
for?” And I went back to the drawing board for 12 hours and I came up
with a budget of $279,000.
Eden Wurmfeld (production manager): The deal Doug made with Jon was, “If I get the money, I get to direct it.”
Favreau: There was a whole discussion
about how to proceed. Doug agreed to let me have a say in all the
creative aspects, and for me to get a cut in the editing room, and to be
involved with the music and the costumes.
Liman: I actually had 20 days of
shooting budgeted. Four five-day weeks. But I scheduled the movie to
shoot in 18 days with the thinking that I was going to be taking so many
chances to get this movie done, I couldn’t really be sure any one thing
we did would actually come off. I had a mind that we were going to
shoot 12 pages a day. A studio film might shoot two pages in a day and
an independent film might shoot four or five pages in a day and some TV
show might get up to eight pages a day, but we were going to shoot
12-page days. It was an insane proposal.
Livingston: When we were doing the
readings, I don’t think we ever entertained the idea that we were
actually going to get to be a part of it.
Liman: I was able to raise $200,000 from a business associate of my father’s.4
He wasn’t the first person I approached. There were probably 100
people before him. The only one I had to answer to was my dad — he made
sure I didn’t lose his friend’s money.
4. From his New York Times obituary:
“Arthur L. Liman, a masterly legal strategist who made his living
representing both corporate tycoons and scalawags but made his public
mark investigating pivotal events like the Iran-contra affair and the
Attica prison uprising, died yesterday in his Manhattan apartment.”
Favreau: I thought we needed north of a million bucks.
Livingston: Jon said if the budget is that small, then I want to be in it. It’s my movie.
Vaughn: Doug made me audition for the
part. I think they offered the part to a couple other actors. Nobody I
remember. Guys who were popular on TV at the time.
Livingston: Vince was the last person
that got the OK to be in the movie. Even though so much of the heart and
the soul of that movie is the back-and-forth between Jon and Vince,
they were still holding out that they could get somebody that they could
stick on a poster.
Liman: At first, Vince wouldn’t
audition. He didn’t want to come in because anyone who had ever talked
about making the film knew that that character, that particular part,
was the one that would get given to a name, and Vince hadn’t been in
anything. He had a small part in Rudy where he was cut out. So Vince was sure that it was just going to lead to heartbreak, that he would never get the part.
Livingston: When I got cast? It’s not
the thing we imagine when you get the phone call. It’s not the moment
when Rudy gets the envelope and jumps up and down. I’d been working on
it for a long time, you know? It was a slow process. Directors always
get nervous when somebody says, “Yeah, I got this friend.” So I went in
and I read the pep-talk scene. And I could see that Doug was like, “Oh
yeah, OK. This is going to work, this will be fine.”
Liman: None of us were counting on this movie for anything. I didn’t even tell my agent I was making Swingers until I was done shooting it because I didn’t want him to stop looking for a real job.
LaLoggia: At that time, Brothers McMullen
had just happened, Sundance was all the rage. All these young actors
were kind of clambering to get a part in all these independent films.
And we had a casting director for only three weeks, that’s all I could
afford.
Favreau: There weren’t a lot of roles
left over. You know, they’d come over, they’d go for an audition in
Doug’s living room. It didn’t feel like a real production.
Katherine Kendall (Lisa): I
got it because my next-door neighbor had a house guest and her name was
Eden Wurmfeld. And Eden was one of the assistant producers. My neighbor
knew I could dance, and they were doing a movie with swing dance, and
so she was like, “Oh, cool, maybe you can be one of the dancers and
we’ll have you come in.”
Blake Lindsley (Girl With Cigar): My brother Brad worked on Getting In with Doug and was one of the producers of Swingers. So I knew I was going to get an audition.
LaLoggia: Brad put in a little bit of
money at the end and we cast his sister Blake. That was kind of the
deal. She was terrific, but it was definitely a point of contention.
Brooke Langton (Nikki): My
audition was in the backyard at Doug and Nicole’s house. We sat on the
porch and Jon just kind of riffed with me. He had a script and I had
lines, but I think he wanted somebody to play with at a bar, and I was
pretty playful.
Caitlyn Cole (Girl at Party):
I was really new to L.A.; I was working in New York and Miami. And my
roommate at the time was like, “Oh, let’s go to a barbecue.” I met Jon
there, and his friends, and we just all really hit it off. Jon and I
became friends and he called and asked me to do the part.
LaLoggia: Back then Caitlyn Cole was
known as Jan Dykstra. She was Jon’s girlfriend. Not the girlfriend that
inspired the movie, but they dated and he put her in. I don’t wanna make
us sound dumb — we were all very smart about this — but ignorance is
bliss and Jon was like “I really want this girl, you’re going to have to
trust me, she’s great.”
“Who Do I Have to Fuck to Get Off This Job?”
Favreau: It was a fly-by-night operation. It didn’t look or seem real.
LaLoggia: We couldn’t afford office space, so the production headquarters was in our house.
Wurmfeld: 6440 Drexel.
Favreau: Nicole’s office was in an unfinished garage in the backyard with dogs running around and stuff.
LaLoggia: The door to the outside
garage was through my bedroom and it was like people would come walking
through at all hours. Jon, Vince — who’s a huge personality — they’d
come in the office, they’d put their feet up, they’d wanna talk. I’m
like, “I can’t talk about this shit right now. I’ve got shit to do. Get
out of here.”
Liman: Our entire lighting package was gonna consist of 100-, 150-watt light bulbs.
Wurmfeld: Our coffee budget was zero. We had it donated.
Liman: Saving on shooting time and
movie lights is a big factor, but you still need locations. And Nicole
used to cry in front of people, literally. No technique was beneath us
to get people to give us things for free or cheap.
LaLoggia: Instead of getting a traditional caterer, we made deals with restaurants in the neighborhood for next to nothing.
Avram Ludwig (associate producer):
We spent more money on music in that movie than on the movie. We paid
the most for the Dean Martin stuff. I don’t know. I think we paid half a
million dollars in music licensing and the movie cost a quarter of a
million dollars to make.
LaLoggia: The entire post-production —
all the development, all the processing, all the coloring — was free.
That would have been our budget alone. So if it weren’t for that, we
couldn’t have done it.
Liman: Every day I was telling Jon
something else that was un-kosher and he was getting more and more
alarmed. Not hiring a DP, a director of photography, seemed to be the
thing that particularly [troubled him]. And then one day — a few weeks
before we started shooting — he caught me reading a book on basic movie
lighting.
Ludwig: Our biggest cost was getting
film. Film comes in 1,000-foot loads and 400-foot loads. On a big movie,
they’ll throw away the end of the film, like the last hundred feet or
so.
Liman: We shot most of the movie with
these 100-foot short ends. It’s a minute of film. Which also meant the
actors could get through 60 seconds of a scene and I’d have to call
reload.
Wurmfeld: I cultivated a lot of relationships with the people around town selling short ends.
LaLoggia: I called this place in L.A. that does recycled, re-canned short ends and I just begged for the cheapest price we could get.5
5. Many of the short ends came from the movie Twister.
Liman: The problem with shooting on
short ends, though, is that it takes four minutes to reload a
conventional camera. I thought to myself: We’ll never get
through the movie if we shoot a minute, spend four minutes reloading,
shoot a minute, spend four minutes reloading. You’ll never get any kind
of rhythm going. So I decided I would shoot the movie with this
documentary 35-millimeter film camera that was not designed to shoot
dialogue because it sounds like a sewing machine.
Ludwig: The camera was much louder
than a regular camera that you’d use for a feature film. But it’s easy
to load and very compact. I think it was developed so Godard could have a
camera that would fit into his bicycle basket.
Liman: To absorb the sound, I would
take my down jacket and put it over the camera and then take the two
arms and tie them together underneath the lens. And then my comforter
would just get wrapped around the whole thing once. Jon would describe
it like he was acting in front of a big, fluffy snowball. But I really
think that as insane as that setup was, it created a really safe
environment for the actors. Vince really did some extraordinary things,
like the scene where he’s supposed to be drunk and he jumps up on the
table. You know, he had to do that in front of a lot of people and I
feel like they looked at me and they were like, Doug is clearly not being self-conscious.
Favreau: There was never enough time and never enough film.
Liman: Every day we’d panic because I
was shooting more film than I thought I was gonna shoot and we didn’t
have enough film and we didn’t have any money.
LaLoggia: I used to hide film in the
trunk of my car because Doug could not help himself. He just wanted to
shoot, shoot, shoot, so we would lie to him and say that we were out of
film.
Favreau: We already knew our characters. It was as though we had been in a stage production of it. I often think of it like Play It Again, Sam, which was onstage before it was ever filmed.
Wurmfeld: Literally every single word
that comes out of Vince’s mouth is on the page. That’s what totally
blows me away about Jon’s writing — his ability to get someone’s voice,
because I think that’s not an easy task. One might think that Vince is
improvising, and certainly he can, but I just was amazed that all those
jokes and stuff were actually on the page.
Livingston: He grabbed “You’re so money” from the Spike Lee–Michael Jordan commercials,
where Spike Lee called Michael Jordan “Money,” you know, “Like the
shoes, Money.” Nobody was really doing that, I think, other than just
Spike Lee and Michael Jordan. So when the movie came out, that was still
kind of a new thing.
Liman: The very first day of shooting
we started at the golf course. One of the first shots we did, Ron
Livingston was supposed to chip the golf ball by me.
Ludwig: I stood next to the lens and
if I thought the golf ball was gonna hit, I’d stick my hand out and try
to catch the golf ball before it smashed the front element. So I stood
there and the ball came really close, and I moved my hand in front of
the lens and I heard crunch. But it wasn’t the lens. I looked
back, and the golf ball had pegged Doug’s chest and destroyed the light
meter. We didn’t have another one. And this is our first day of the
shoot, our first location, and we’re outside. We’d paid for this
location, probably $500 or $1,000. We can’t afford to not shoot.
Liman: I just had to guess at the exposures.
Ludwig: So we shoot for about four hours, and then we move over to Jon’s apartment building.
Scotty Morris (band leader, Big Bad Voodoo Daddy):
The scene where he’s in the apartment and he opens the fridge for no
reason and there’s a light in there? I’ll never forget Jon pointing that
out to me. He whispered to me at the premiere — he was laughing — he
was like, “You see when I open the fridge for no reason? That’s because
Doug said the scene was too dark and we needed to light it, we needed
more light.”
Liman: A few hours into shooting in
the apartment, the sound guy, Al, said, “Uh, we need to stop for a
second, I have to go to the bathroom. You’ve been shooting for three
hours straight and you haven’t stopped for more than five seconds.”
Those were our only breaks from shooting — to let people go to the
bathroom.
Ludwig: Al was a porn sound man. Four hundred fifty pounds.
Wurmfeld: Al used to fall asleep during the shoot. But that’s who we could afford, and he also had all his own sound equipment.
Liman: He would say to us on a daily basis, “This movie is pretty cute, but let’s face it, nobody’s gonna see this but your friends.”
Favreau: In the first two days, I had
one-quarter of all of my dialogue. I don’t know how that happened. I had
to memorize everything, because it was my scene on the golf course, it
was everything I had in my apartment, all my phone calls, the end of the
movie. Everything was in the first couple days.
Livingston: That accounted for probably twenty-five to thirty pages of the movie.
Ludwig: We worked 14- and 15-hour days.
Wurmfeld: I remember driving home in the morning after a night shoot and falling asleep at every red light.
Livingston: Doug wasn’t messing around.
Liman: There wasn’t time for that. I put actors through pretty intense experiences — this was definitely the most intense.
LaLoggia: The Reservoir Dogs
rip-off shot — I actually went and shot that, just me and Doug — in the
alley out of a flatbed truck behind a 7-Eleven. We did it in the middle
of the night and just ran and hauled the boys out of bed at two in the
morning and shot it three times and packed it up, and said, “Let’s go.”
It was the only way to do it.
Wurmfeld: There were a lot of crazy politics.
LaLoggia: Doug’s one rule was “I’m directing, but we can do this together.” But he didn’t wanna give up control.
Wurmfeld: Jon was always kind of
resentful that Doug got to direct the movie. Jon obviously went on to
have a very illustrious directing career in his own right, but I think
there was always tension there. It came out more in post-production than
during production, because during production, Jon could really focus on
acting.
LaLoggia: There was always a little bit of friction. And that
seems fair and obvious. It never works out perfectly. But I think Jon
can speak to that.6
They’re both pretty forthright about that stuff. It did not make my
job necessarily uncomfortable. It was a little harder here and there
when things would arise, but it seemed par for the course.
6. As LaLoggia predicted, Favreau was
more than diplomatic on the subject of tension between Liman and him. He
wouldn’t confirm any existed at all.
Kendall: It didn’t feel like there was
two guys muscling for control. Doug was more like a DP, but he was
still smart and firm. But all the sort of communication on set seemed to
go through Jon.
Wurmfeld: Nicole and I used to joke,
“Who do I have to fuck to get off this job? Oh, myself.” We had a great
time, but it was definitely harrowing.
“There Is No Aspect of This That Looks Professional”
LaLoggia: Every time I’d go talk to
somebody about a location it was always like, “Listen, here’s the
script, take a look, this is what we want to do, and without your help
we can’t do it. We’re gonna be in and out, I don’t have to put lights on
stands.”
Liman: Part of my thing was “Why pay
to shut down a bar, which is incredibly expensive because they lose all
that business, and then hire a bunch of extras to then repopulate the
bar? Why not just shoot in a bar when it’s actually open to the public
and therefore it comes with all the extras?” It’s a win-win for
everybody.
LaLoggia: I had a buddy, Rio Hackford — whose father is the director Taylor Hackford — he used to run the Three Clubs.7
And so as soon as I knew we needed a bar, I called him and I said, “I
need a favor, you gotta do this for me.” It served as two locations,
actually.
7. Rio Hackford appears in the movie as a
character named Skully. He bumps into Patrick Van Horn’s Sue in the
Dresden parking lot and Sue pulls a gun.
Liman: The downside is that the actors
had to act under some pretty grueling conditions. The band comes on at
10, and we’re not done by 10, so suddenly we’re having to shoot the
scene and we can’t even hear each other.
Favreau: It was embarrassing because we were walking into clubs and bars that we would really drink in. And nobody knew about Swingers, they just saw us walking around making our movie.
Livingston: We would use just the
house lights and the bar to light the scene. If you turn the lights up a
little bit, all the bar denizens would sort of thin out and move away.
And if you dialed them down a little bit, the bar denizens would sort of
fill in a little bit.
Liman: We were shooting in a trendy
bar and suddenly I ran into some classmates from film school and I could
just see the way they were looking at me — with this big poufy thing on
my shoulder and some actors and a scene lit with lamps from a discount
home store — that they were thinking Doug’s lost it. Just that,
like, this poor guy, maybe he showed some promise in film school, but he
has clearly gone off the reservation. This is not how you make a movie
on any level. There is no aspect of this that looks professional.
Désert: The script called for a party scene, so we decided, Let’s just throw a party.
LaLoggia: We had some buddies who
lived up in the Hollywood Hills on Temple Hill Drive. Actually, the guys
who were in the house are now the executive producers on Revenge.
Mike White:8
The house was one of the centers of partying back then. There were four
guys that lived there. Two of them have gone on to be successful
producers — Wyck Godfrey and Marty Bowen. Their production company is
called Temple Hill [Entertainment], in reference to the house. They
produced all the Twilight movies, actually.
8. Attended the party. And went on to write Chuck & Buck, The Good Girl, Orange County, The School of Rock, and the HBO series Enlightened.
LaLoggia: At any rate, they owned this
very cool old house and had a bunch of roommates. And we asked them if
they would throw a party that we could film but not tell anybody we were
gonna film it. And obviously people saw cameras in there once we all
arrived, but they still didn’t know what it was about, and people in
L.A. love that stuff.
White: They wanted people to stick
around so they could have the liveliness of a real party. They provided
booze. Maybe too much booze.
Adam Scott: I was at that party. We
would see them walking around, shooting these little scenes. And we had
no idea what it was they were doing.
White: I remember them shooting and I actually thought, at the time, This is so embarrassing for them.
Désert: Was I really drinking? I refuse to answer that question on the grounds that I might incriminate myself.
White: The cast and crew saw us as
just background to the movie, but from our perspective it was a real
party. It wasn’t like I was an extra.
Liman: It may have been the low point of the filming. Nobody was taking our film seriously.
Langton: The answering machine bit was
every bit as painful on the page as it was on the screen. I was in
Vancouver working on a movie and Doug called me and said, “Can you say
this into the phone?” I said, “Sure, OK … This is Nikki, leave a
message!” And then, you know, “Don’t ever call me again.”
Favreau: The characters are
exaggerations of aspects of all of our personalities. Vince has a lot of
the charm of Trent, but he’s a much different guy. And I was definitely
going through a sad period, but I was never a basket case like Mikey
was; I wouldn’t leave 50 messages on a machine.
Liman: I had made this creative
decision early on that the camera be handheld, it would be pretty
active, unusually active for the dialogue during the movie, and then
when we got to the phone call where Jon calls Nikki over and over again,
I decided I would actually use a tripod and lock the camera off and
just make you watch this shot and use a long piece of film so we could
hold on it for a long time.
Favreau: Doug always says what he’s
most proud of in that one is that people react as though they’re
watching a horror movie. We shot that on the first day of filming; there
was just crickets on the set. There was nothing funny about it.
“Vegas, Baby! I Wish I Had a Dime for Every Time Somebody Said It”
Favreau: I’m the type of guy who will
stay in my house if I’m not motivated. And Vince is the type of guy who
will pull you out of that. That’s sort of where the Vegas trip came
from.
Langton: When you live in L.A. and
you’re 20, there is always someone who’s not really from there who says,
like, “Let’s go to Vegas!” And so you’re like, “Yeah!” because
everybody’s having fun and you’re out and literally, it seems so close.
And at five in the morning, you want to just off yourself because it’s
the worst idea in the world.
LaLoggia: Victor [Simpkins] and I flew
to Las Vegas, met with some high roller there, begged him to let us
shoot the Flamingo exterior, and then he also let us shoot the Glitter
Gulch, downtown on Fremont Street. We took the entire crew — that was
their treat. We handed out twenty-dollar bills to everybody and said,
“Here’s what we’ve got, go gamble, go knock yourself out.”
Liman: We shot all the Vegas footage in one night. That’s 15 minutes of a 90-minute movie.
Favreau: There wasn’t a lot of
discussion. We went in, we did it. There wasn’t even a video playback
screen, everything was what Doug saw through his eyepiece. We were all
just scrambling to get it on camera.
LaLoggia: Vegas was free. I got the casino in Vegas to let us be there for free. It was crazy.
Vaughn: Jon was always very close with
his grandmother, and she’s in the movie. She’s a schoolteacher from the
Bronx, so kind and sweet, and she plays the woman at the casino table
who gets some free breakfast. My father has always played blackjack, he
plays a lot of cards. And so we both thought it would be fun to put them
in a film.
Favreau: The scene in the trailer was taken right from The Odd Couple.
I definitely had that in mind, because there’s a whole thing where it’s
Oscar and Felix and they’re with the Pigeon sisters, the British
sisters, the neighbors in the apartment building, and there was one
scene where Oscar leaves to get drinks and he comes back and everybody’s
crying. He goes, “Is everybody happy?” And he’s so mad that Felix
ruined everything by talking about his divorce. That was definitely the
inspiration for that scene.
Ludwig: Vegas was funny because Vince really liked gambling and at the time he was dirt poor.
Liman: Vince gambling was the least of my concerns.
Ludwig: His car was always breaking
down or out of gas. Twice, he came in with so little gas that the car
ran out as he was approaching set and I had to siphon gas out of other
cars.
Liman: He wasn’t gambling right where
we were shooting, he was gambling at a table 10 feet away. During the
takes, he’d come back to us and depending on what was happening at the
table, his performance would go up or down based on whether he had just
won or lost.
Ludwig: He got on this incredible
lucky streak. We’d start rolling and it was like, “Where’s Vince?” He
had to sort of tear himself away and we were constantly losing him to
the tables because he had this unbelievable streak of luck. He was
winning like crazy.
Liman: Our careers were riding on this movie and whatever was happening at the tables with Vince was working.
Ludwig: Then we went to another casino and Vince lost everything.
LaLoggia: Vegas, baby! I wish I had a dime for every time somebody said it.
Ludwig: So flash-forward: We’ve shot in Las Vegas and we’re
coming back to L.A. We’re driving on the side of the highway and there’s
the sign: Los Angeles — however many miles away. 9
And so we set up the shot there, without permission.
9. The sign read:
“Jean 20
Los Angeles 278″
“Jean 20
Los Angeles 278″
Liman: We organized the shoot around the things most likely to get us arrested at the end of the schedule.
Ludwig: A state trooper comes by and
asks, “What are you doing here?” And we say, “We’re in a convoy, we’ve
lost some of our trucks so we’re just waiting.” So he says, “OK,” and
takes off and we set up and start shooting the shot in the convertible.
It was John and Vince talking, on the side of the highway, against the
desert, with trucks going by. It’s the “You were so money and you don’t
even know it” scene.
Vaughn: None of the locations were really legal in the traditional film sense.
Ludwig: In about two hours we got half
of the scene done, and when we turned around to get the other half of
the scene another state trooper pulled up and said, “What are you doing
here?” And we said, “We’re filming.” And he said, “Do you have a
permit?” And I said, “Yes, we do.” He said, “Can I see it?” I said,
“Well it’s with our producer, who’s on his way back to L.A. Do you want
him to come back here, he could show it to you?” He said, “Yes.” So I
get on the phone and I called the producer in L.A. and he didn’t know
anything about what I was talking about but I started inventing this
conversation about, “Come on back with the permit.” And he’s going,
“What are you talking about?” I kept talking like he was responding to
me.
Vaughn: You can hear the sirens in the background.
Ludwig: And so this kept the cop
waiting for 25 minutes. So we start shooting the other side of the
conversation and then the cop goes, “Did you actually show this permit
to any other police officers?” And I said, “Yes, there was another cop
who came by here at 10 a.m.” And he said, “OK, let’s call the other
cop.” Ten minutes later, that other cop that had come by in the first
place comes up, pulls over, and he says, “He never showed me a permit.”
So they go, “You’re done, wrap up, get out of here.” And we hadn’t
finished the scene. So I go around telling everybody to pack up. And the
whole crew starts moving stuff from one place to another, except Doug
and the actors are sitting in the car. The actors are sitting in the car
and Doug just sort of turns on the camera surreptitiously. They’re
wired for sound. So we kept shooting while the entire crew starts
picking stuff up and moving it around and around and around because
we’re still shooting and actually nothing is getting put away until
finally Doug is happy.
Favreau: Doug was never afraid of getting in trouble. That was definitely the diciest moment.
Ludwig: You need a little bit of larceny in your heart to get a film made.
“It Was Bubbling on the Underground Like You Wouldn’t Believe”
Vaughn: When Jon moved to L.A., I
started to take him out to a lot of these swing music places. A lot of
the old punk rock bands started to play swing. It was an alternative to
the alternative scene — great live music, people dressing up, and the
dancing was fun in a fun, intimate way. You would go and dance with a
girl and hang out. It was really conversational. It was like being back
in Chicago, where people would actually talk.
Morris: The Derby was in Los Feliz. It
didn’t really look like much. It was kind of a dark building and you
could tell it had an oval roof to it. It was shaped like a hat and on
the backside there was a Louise’s restaurant. You’d walk up these steps
to get up to the Derby and right at the door were footprints. And they
were Cecil B. DeMille’s footprints, just like on the Hollywood Walk of
Fame. And that was the first indication that you were walking into old
Hollywood.
Glen “The Kid” Marhevka (trumpet player, Big Bad Voodoo Daddy):
When we first started playing, we would show up at a club in suits and
fedoras and people would just trip. They stared at us like we were
aliens. But you’d go out and you’d dance. You’d dance with people. There was physical contact. It was kind of romantic. And just plain cool.
Morris: It was Hollywood personified. I mean, it was as hip as any club I have ever been into ever.
Favreau: As I was writing the script, I
didn’t have it set in the swing-dancing scene. It was gonna be just in
the lounge scene. And I happened to go to the Derby, and I thought, Oh my god, what a great place to set the ending.
And that’s when it started. So as I was trying to get the movie made, I
was learning how to swing dance so I could do that scene.
Ludwig: We went one night to the
Derby, where we ultimately shot, and Robert Duvall was just sitting at a
table, watching the swing dancing. He was just mesmerized. We decided
we were gonna shoot in that place while it was open for business.
Favreau: I taught Heather Graham to dance.10
I brought her out and I think we did it in her house, also. She lived
in Beachwood Canyon. She had wooden floors. And I went over there and we
practiced some moves. But I had learned how to dance at the Derby; they
used to give lessons. And then I just would lead. You know, it’s easier
if the guy knows what he’s doing.
10. Graham’s publicist declined multiple interview requests.
Morris: Swingers was shot on
Wednesday and it was shot live in the room that night. Like, our
performance playing was a real night at the Derby, nothing changed.
There were people paying admission, people that were hovering around the
dance floor — that’s what it looked like that night.
Marhevka: Pretty much everybody on the
Hollywood scene would end up there on a Wednesday night when we played.
We met everybody you can imagine in that place, from Quincy Jones to
Uma Thurman to the cast from Friends.
Morris: Jon was at the Derby every
Wednesday night when Big Bad Voodoo Daddy played. My girlfriend,
Martina, was one of the best dancers there and he started dancing with
her. And then they became friends. So we kind of all became friends.
Marhevka: Jon gave our singer, Scotty,
the script one night and said, “Hey, I’m doing this independent movie. I
want you guys to be in it. You’re my favorite band and I’d love to have
you guys in it.” I don’t think Scott even looked at the script, to be
honest with you. I think he just kinda threw it in the van or whatever
and the next week Jon asked him, “Hey, what did you think?”
Morris: I had completely forgot about
Jon’s movie. The week went by, but I didn’t read it. It was in the front
seat of my truck. And we get to the Derby and Jon comes to me first
thing. He was never there early. And first thing he was there and he was
like, “What did you think, man, what did you think of the script?” And I
just went, “Yeah, man, it was great, we’ll totally do it.” I mean, what
else were you gonna do?
“We’ll Pay You $50 If We Can Have Your Baby”
Favreau: My original script ended with
the phone call with Heather’s character, Lorraine; I’m happy; I hang up
on my old girlfriend; I take the call from the new girl and the camera
pulls away into a helicopter shot we couldn’t afford and that was the
end.
Liman: Initially, I’d been excited
about doing a movie about a guy getting over his ex-girlfriend and
meeting somebody new. But then the first time we did a reading, I
discovered it was actually a movie about friendship and had nothing to
do with the girlfriend — the real love story was between Jon and Vince.
LaLoggia: Jon wanted me to do the
voice of Michelle. That was important to him. We were so busy that I
don’t know that we ever got into the minutiae. When you’re 24 years old,
I think you don’t even know what questions to ask about someone’s
relationship. Was it good? Was it bad? Why did you break up? How did you
get over it? The truth of the matter is, I was so sick of him and so
over everything and so tired that I wanted to kill him. It was very
difficult for me to do that [scene]. I had to look at him and I really
wanted to wring his neck. We sat in the room and recorded it on a
digital audio-tape machine that we bought at Radio Shack and then
returned the next day.
Liman: I said to Jon, “You know what, I
don’t think that’s the ending of our movie. I think I care more about
your relationship with Vince.”
Favreau: I felt like any scene we’d
create was going to feel tacked on. Everything’s been resolved in the
story; it’s gonna feel like we’re overstaying our welcome. But then I
thought about this story that Vince told me.
Vaughn: I went back to Chicago to see my parents before I started filming Swingers
and I was at the airport, waiting to fly back to Los Angeles, sitting
down, waiting. And there was a gentleman in line to get his boarding
pass. But it appeared to me that he kept waving at me and smiling at me
and giggling and it made me uncomfortable. At first I thought, How do I know this guy?
But he’s doing it in a very kind of babyish way, it feels a little
weird. And he just was very confident the way that he did it. And he
kept moving through the line very slowly, and so I tried to look at him
like You’re crazy, or laugh, like Ohhhhh. But
nothing like this seemed to deter him from wanting to engage me in this
kind of a flirtatious, little-kid way. So when he finally got his
ticket, he began to walk toward me. And I’m like, Oh jeez, this guy is really coming over here. And then he stopped and he picked up a baby that was sitting in a chair that I couldn’t see from my vantage point.
Favreau: Vince told me the story and that clicked and I thought, Oh, here’s a good way to use both things.
Liman: It’s a genius scene.
Vaughn: I do think that having that was kind of a fun thing, to pull back the curtain a little bit on the wizard.
Favreau: I start to sum it up like
it’s going to be some cheesy afternoon special, stating the theme in the
most obvious way of what lesson I learned. And in the middle of my
speech where I’m about to make the movie a lot cheesier, he interrupts
because the girl’s making eyes at him.
Vaughn: We used a little misdirection there.
Liman: We got to the diner and Favreau
turns to me as soon as I walk in and goes, “Have you seen the baby?”
Right then I know we’re in trouble.
Maddie Corman (Peek-a-Boo Girl):
Everyone started to panic. People on walkie-talkies were asking: “Do
you have the baby?” “Do you have the baby?” It became clear very quickly
that there was no baby. Things got chaotic.
Favreau: We had cast a kid, like we
didn’t know how old the baby was, I think we said it was like a
4-year-old or something. He was way too big.
Liman: We were in our twenties, nobody
on this movie knows anybody with a baby. So I sent our location
manager, who was the nicest person in the crew, to the Mayfair Market
thinking that every shopping cart I’ve ever seen has that little thing
for kids that I used to hold berries and eggs and shit like that. I
figured there must be a lot of people shopping with babies for every
shopping cart to come with a little baby seat.
Favreau: It was creepy.
Liman: He came back 20 minutes later,
horrified, because he’d been kicked out of the supermarket by the
manager because he was going up to all these people with children
saying, “Can we have your baby in our movie?”
Liman: We were really running out of
time and daylight, and Ludwig went running out onto the street right in
front of where we were shooting and saw a car with a baby seat and
flagged it down.
Corman: The baby was not kidnapped. The family, however, may have been coerced.
Liman: We told them “We’ll pay you $50
if we can have your baby for half an hour,” and they said sure. And,
like, had he not found that baby, I wouldn’t have had an ending to the
movie. No plan B.
Corman: While we filmed, the parents
stood in the corner. They tried to show not too much of the baby. But I
have to say, I was pretty good at peek-a-boo.
“It Wasn’t About Making Wayne Gretzky’s Head Bleed”
Ludwig: Wayne Gretzky’s head bleeding
was the hardest thing to shoot in the whole movie. We finished up and we
had the camera for another 72 hours before we had to return it. So we
had to shoot an insert of a TV screen where one of them makes Wayne
Gretzky’s head bleed. We’re in the editing room with the TV set and
we’re playing that game and the editor can’t make Wayne Gretzky’s head
bleed and then I can’t make Wayne Gretzky’s head bleed, Doug can’t make
Wayne Gretzky’s head bleed. And we’re shooting this for a couple of
hours and we can’t do it. So we called up Jon in the middle of the
night, it’s like one in the morning, and he comes over and he can’t do
it. And finally we had to call Vince and get Vince over there at two in
the morning. Four and a half hours after we started, he gets Wayne
Gretzky’s head to bleed.
Vaughn: That was a fun game.
Favreau: Everything was geared around being done in time to get into Sundance, and we raced and raced and raced to get a cut.
LaLoggia: The very first cut is never what you expect. We were just miserable and thought, God, this is a horrible movie. What did we do? All these people came out and did this for us and we’ve ruined everybody’s life.
We wrapped at the end of September, it had to be at Sundance in three
weeks. It went with no music in places and black holes. I mean, it was
like they took a look and were like, What the hell is this?
Liman: I had skewed it toward Mike’s experience. Victor Simpkins
came in and he saw the very first cut and said, “Relax a little bit,
let it be. You don’t have to be so intense in your cutting. Let it play
in group shots. Let’s feel the group. Don’t feel like you have to keep
cutting to Jon’s close-up.” We took two days implementing that note and
basically that was the movie. It literally went through two cuts.
Vaughn: We thought, Oh gosh, we’ll
go to Sundance. They love independent films. They’re supportive of
people who are getting their stories made and Jesus, this thing is
really that. But it wasn’t in their wheelhouse of what they deemed to be important or artistic. So we didn’t get in.
Favreau: We didn’t make it. We were really depressed.
Livingston: It felt like the bottom
dropped out. But the producers were really smart and they said, “We’re
not worried about that. We think we’ve actually got a commercial movie
here. We don’t even think this is a festival movie — it’s not dark or
it’s not brooding. We think this is a feel-good crowd pleaser.”
Favreau: We didn’t have any
distribution. So we were just sitting on a $200,000 piece of film. There
was no guarantee of getting the money back. There was no guarantee of
it ever being seen.
LaLoggia: It took us about 24 hours to
pull our shit together and say, “You know what, screw it, we’re going
to have a one-night-only screening and we’re gonna play this at the
Fairfax and Doug’s agent is gonna tell everybody she knows.”
Liman: With the last little bit of money I rented a theater, the Fairfax $2 theater.
I don’t know if it’s even still around anymore. We hadn’t shown the
movie to any of our friends so that at the screening at a theater that
held 500 people, we actually filled it with 490 friends. Nobody laughs
at a movie harder than friends of the people who made it or the people
in it. We set that whole thing up with 490 friends so that the ten
people who actually matter would have a great experience.
LaLoggia: It was sometime in February,
it was one night only, it was raining, and we had to have an overflow
theater. We had one print, so we had to start the second screening
later.
Livingston: And that was not an easy audience when you’re dealing with potential buyers, you know?
LaLoggia: Some of the companies
— Propaganda, I remember, was one of them — they were all in the house,
all these distributors, all these acquisition people. We were all in the
theater.
Liman: And one of those important people was Michael Cole. He acquired films for Miramax.
Favreau: And it just destroyed; it destroyed.
LaLoggia: There’s the first moment about six minutes in, the backpack line.
I knew if anybody laughed, if you hear the audience laugh, you’re
sailing from there out. People went nuts in the theater. I ran out of
the theater because it was so overwhelming.
Livingston: They got a couple of bids
right away. It’s one thing to get one buyer in a movie — when you get
two or three potential buyers, now all of a sudden you’re in business
because they’re going to bid against each other. So they sold it for 5
million or something like that, which at the time was unheard of.
LaLoggia: We had hired a bus just to party that night, like, thinking, No matter what happens, we’ve done it. And it was crazy.
Wurmfeld: It was one of those wild
nights where we hung out and partied and went to bed at two in the
morning and then at like seven a.m. the phone was ringing off the hook
with people who wanted to buy the movie. It was our fantasy of what
might occur.
Liman: When we went to sell the film,
CAA — my agency — was trying to get other people to bid against Miramax,
and they told me to not answer my phone because Harvey had already made
an offer to us and they were pretending like they couldn’t find me. And
they were using that time to try to get other studios to make offers.
But then Michael Cole actually showed up at my house in West Hollywood
and knocked on my kitchen window. I couldn’t pretend to not be home,
because he’s staring right at me.
LaLoggia: I was a little sad for some reason. I remember thinking, I have to sell this to somebody and then they’re gonna do what to it? I don’t wanna do it.
I remember saying no to Miramax. Harvey Weinstein called me and said,
“Do you understand what I’m offering you?” And I said, “I don’t really
care. Blood, sweat, and tears are all over this film.” Harvey was like,
“I don’t know what this is all about for you, but I’m not interested in
digging into it again and opening it up and changing it.” And I remember
him saying, “You are one lucky little girl,” and I remember saying,
“And you’re one lucky old man.” We were just so attached to it and we
had worked so hard on it that relinquishing it was scary. We got final
cut because of that.
Liman: We sold the movie to them that night for $5 million.
Livingston: But this is where the
Weinsteins were so smart. They started getting the idea of “We’re not
just buying the movie, we’re buying relationships with the filmmakers.
We’re going to be in business with Jon Favreau. We’re going to be in
business with Vince Vaughn. We’re going to be in business with Doug
Liman. And if we ever want to do anything in the future with these guys,
we’ve got this over their heads to say, ‘Hey, we started you out.’”
It’s just really, really smart business.
Liman: We bought Vince a brand-new used car.
Vaughn: The night we sold the movie to Miramax, Jon and I went to an Italian restaurant in Hollywood called Miceli’s,
it’s a classic place, Old Hollywood, and if you buy one of those
bottles of Chianti with the wood wrapped around it, you sign it and they
hang it from the ceiling, so we did that to mark the occasion.
“With Clinton, It Was Bitchin’”
Liman: After selling the film to Miramax, we had this great premiere at the Vista Theater. It was one of the highlights of my life.
Favreau: Vince used the dailies from
that monologue in the trailer and eventually ended up getting a
television deal for a few hundred thousand dollars, which was a king’s
ransom to us. We had never seen any kind of money like that. He was like
the richest guy I knew. He would pick up dinners and pay for drinks; I
mean, he was a big shot.
White: It was a huge success for the
world of independent movies, and I was happy for Jon. But there was so
much comparative anxiety that people were motivated by it. It motivated
me to make Chuck & Buck a few years later. I was like, Well, if those guys can do it, I can do something like that.
Liman: But then the film opened a week
later and nobody went to go see it. I went on opening night in New York
up on Broadway and 84th Street on a Friday, and the film broke halfway
through and they gave everybody their money back. And it was like that
was it. I think it did $4 million in box office. It was done.
Favreau: It wasn’t a hit by any stretch of the imagination. On both sides of us, we had Good Will Hunting and Sling Blade,
two other releases from Miramax that made a lot of money and we just
didn’t, we didn’t hit the mark. It felt like a disappointment. And it
wasn’t until years later that it built momentum on video, and became
part of the culture and the language, that it became what it is now.
Liman: I got a call from somebody at
Buena Vista Home Video who said, “Miramax screwed up. Your movie is way
too good to disappear like that, and we want to give it a huge push on
home video.” They used to have these events where they’d fly the owners
of Blockbuster and all the video store chains out to L.A. for three days
and Mel Gibson would give the keynote address. They were gonna make the
whole weekend Swingers-themed and do events at the Derby and screen Swingers
for all of them. Meanwhile, I got a call from MTV that I had been
picked as Best New Filmmaker for the MTV Video Awards. That event took
place right around the same time that the home video weekend happened.
And so suddenly if you went into a video store there’d be 20 copies of Swingers, like it was a big movie, everywhere in the country.
Wurmfeld: After we made Swingers, we started to develop a script that was like the girl’s version of Swingers. It was called 99 Pounds.
And basically there were characters like each of those characters in a
woman. The movie never did get made. Maybe we should pick it up again.
Liman: I don’t think my original
investor ever understood how lucky he was — or maybe he did because he
never invested in another movie ever again. I had a confidentiality
agreement with him at the time and I still honor it. He was in banking.
He was a financier.
Wurmfeld: Nicole and I were asked by IFP/West to write a bible to indie filmmaking, so we did that.
Liman: Patrick Van Horn? Sue? He was
great, the least commercial of the group, the least career-focused. And,
in a way, the artiste. He was all about the moment and not about agents
and careers. He was amazing to be around.
Wurmfeld: Patty Van Horn never struck me as like really exploring the method of acting. I could be wrong, though.
LaLoggia: He kinda fell off the face of the earth after Swingers.
I don’t know what happened to him. And Jon may have at least kept in
touch with him, or at least Ron Livingston may have. I don’t know. But
Jon might be able to tell you about Patty.
Favreau: Jeez. Vince would know better than me. I haven’t talked to him in years and years. I don’t know if he’s represented.
Désert: Patrick Van Horn. Yeah. He’s still around. I actually
bump into him every once in a while at random spots. Yeah, yeah, every
once in a while I’ll bump into him, it’s like, “Hey, what are you doing
here?” “I’m walking.” “Oh, so am I.” “Hello.”11
11. Attempts to contact Van Horn were unsuccessful.
Cole: I only had those two lines, but
the next thing I know, my little character was all over the place. I had
guys screaming at me because they thought I was really that character.
This guy was really drunk and he’s like, “I hate women like you, I never
had the nice car.” Then these three guys from New York did a book on
what men want. And they were on 20/20, and they played my scene as a prime example of what men don’t want.
Désert: After the movie came out it
started to be a drag trying to go to those places. I’ve had people
who’ve come up to me and said, “I wanna thank you guys for making the
movie. But, also, go to hell because you’ve ruined our spots.” I
remember going into the Dresden a bit after the movie came out and there
was a crew of dudes that were kinda dressed like us in bowling shirts
and hats. It turns out it was a bunch of dudes that had come in from
Canada to do the Swingers crawl. They came to Hollywood so they could go to the Dresden, so they could go to the Room, go to the Derby. And I was like Wow, that’s dedication. I mean, the fact that I was there that night? They were in heaven.
Favreau: We were part of changing Las
Vegas. We definitely had a hand in that. I mean, the Hard Rock had
opened and that was a big thing, but when we used to go to Vegas, it was
kind of an ironic tongue-in-cheek thing to do because it was mostly
older people. And it was, you know, part of that ironic, smoking a
cigar, sipping a scotch as a young man thing. Now it’s a full-on
destination.
Joseph Gordon-Levitt: Growing up, my cinema was Laemmle’s
Sunset 5. When I was 16 and got my license, I would drive over Laurel
Canyon to see anything that was playing there: Sling Blade, Big Night, Trees Lounge, Daytrippers. I saw Swingers
there — twice. I went with my buddy from high school. We were so stoked
about the movie, we went back in and saw it again immediately
afterward. Spending time in the world of twentysomething guys who are on
the prowl for chicks — that’s what you dream of doing when you’re 16.12
12. Quote from Los Angeles magazine.
Glen “the Kid” Marhevka (Big Bad Voodoo Daddy):
We played the Super Bowl halftime show. We played for three presidents.
We played for Clinton, we played for some big dinner for Bush Sr., and
we played some big dinner for Bush Jr., but you don’t have to put that
in there. Clinton was bitchin’, because we got to hang with him. When he
came to us he sat with us for like 10 minutes and was completely
talking to us about saxophone and about his experiences and his
collection of saxophones. It was cool, man — that was an awesome
experience. And that was all 100 percent due to Swingers.
Liman: My whole plan for making Swingers was extremely unrealistic, as was my idea that I was gonna make Bourne Identity. And somehow I found myself moving to France to make Bourne Identity.
On my first night there — it was 1999 or 2000 — I was incredibly
homesick. I was going to be living there for a year and I don’t know
anybody. I’m feeling like I’m in over my head. I’m staying in a hotel.
And I turn the TV on to Canal Plus, which is the movie channel there,
and there’s a movie ending and I’m like, Huh, I wonder what’s gonna be on next? And suddenly the Miramax logo comes up and then our music comes on. It grounded me in a way that ultimately gave me the courage to make Bourne Identity the way I wanted to make it. My whole career is sort of predicated on Swingers.
So, what are the odds that that would happen? It’s on TV that night, at
that moment? Pretty slim. Anywhere in the world, pretty slim. But those
were the odds we faced every day on Swingers. So that was its last gift to me.
Vaughn: There’s just something about being that age, being that confident.
Favreau: It felt miraculous every day
that we actually did what we set out to do. But we knew it was our
moment. Everything ultimately just worked out the right way. It was like
this little, big bang that made all of our careers.
Ludwig: It wasn’t just a movie, but
something that meant something to people who were going through a
similar experience. It made them feel better. It gave them someone to
relate to. I met this kid one time who claimed to have seen the movie 20
or 30 times. I said, “Why did you see this movie that many times?” And
he said, “You don’t understand. I go out, I get rejected by girls, and
then I go home and watch Swingers.”
These interviews have been edited and condensed.Alex French (@FrenchAlexM) and Howie Kahn (@HowieKahn_) are Grantland contributors.
Illustration by Sean McCabe.
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