Actor Expectations on an Indie Film

Many no-budget and indie Directors and Producers come to the task woefully unprepared for working with actors.  Unlike in theater, most Directors and Producers were never actors, myself included.  What this means is that we’re not familiar with the needs and expectations of actors, and going in blind like this can quickly lead to production-wrecking conflict that you may never be able to recover from.  It is essential to learn to work with actors if you want to Direct or Produce films.

Actors have the right to expect two key things: for you to be professional and respect them as professionals, and for you to know enough (about acting, directing, and your own material) that you can actually direct them.

Getting to Know Acting

Every Director should set out to learn something about acting.  After all, how can you Direct something you don’t know anything about?

Anyone who wants to Direct should really take at least one improv class.  Why improv?  Because every aspiring Director needs to experience the feeling of how difficult it is to be thrown in front of a bunch of people and told to perform right now.  It’s miserable.  And the best improv teachers start off this way, so you can experience the fear.  But you’ll soon realize that everyone starts off terrified, even the ones who seem natural at it, and that what ultimately makes improv possible is developing rapport and trust relationships amongst the participants.  That is also what makes a positive, productive film set possible.

Most of you won’t be doing Christopher Guest style improv films, but improv will teach you a lot about how to make actors (and crew) comfortable on-set — and do so by letting you experience first hand how terrifying it is if you’re not comfortable.

It is also advisable to take at least one acting class, and as cliché as it may seem, you should probably take a method acting class.  Many actors have been trained in one of the method schools (in the U.S., usually Meisner or Strasberg styles).  Even those who don’t practice method acting have generally studied Constantin Stanislavski’s acting “ABC” books, and so should you.

Image of An Actor Prepares
Image of Building A Character
Image of Creating A Role

Finally, stick yourself out there.  Go act.  Do a community theater performance, or a role in a friend’s short film.  I don’t consider myself an actor at all, but I’ve done some voice acting, and played minor roles in a few short video productions, to make sure I have some first-hand understanding of what the actors are going through.

This level of exposure won’t make you an expert actor, nor will you become totally fluent in the academic methodology and terminology of acting, but you’ll have enough of a foundation that through repeated exposure to actors you’ll develop a shared language with them.

Expectations Before the Shoot

Most actors like to rehearse.  Some don’t, but most do.  And pretty much all actors would like to at least do a table read before shooting.  If you think you can’t afford rehearsals on your budget, try to think of other things you might cut before making that decision.  But even if you genuinely can’t afford the actors’ time and space for rehearsals on your budget, at least do a table read.  Whenever I’ve neglected to do table reads first, getting scenes right has always proved to be much more difficult.  This is especially true for no-budget shooters that are working with inexperienced actors, even those with a lot of raw talent.   Rehearsals and table reads allow the actors to become familiar with the material, and you with their performance style and Directing needs.  It is the beginning of developing trust and rapport.  But don’t over-Direct the rehearsals.  You don’t want the best performances off-camera, and you don’t want to burn out your actors.  Allow the rehearsals to be fluid, fun and imprecise.  Everyone should know that this is just a way to get familiar with the material and each other, not a pressure situation where they must “nail it” — and then be expected to exactly duplicate that performance on-set.

Actors also like not to be forgotten when updates to schedules, locations, shot breakdowns, and script pages are being circulated.  New Directors and Producers that have been struggling to figure out the technical how-tos of making their film can become obsessed with making sure the camera and sound crews are kept in the loop about everything, and completely forget about the actors.  But the actors care just as much as the technical crews if schedules, locations and shots are changing, and even more so if the script is being modified.  Don’t leave your actors out of preproduction updates.  (Another good thing about rehearsals and/or table reads is that it’s harder to forget about someone that’s right there in front of you.)

On-Set Expectations

These on-set expectations are not strictly limited to actor expectations.  Everyone on-set will benefit from good production and direction, and the film will be better for it.

Be professional.  Stories of tantrums and tyrannical Directors and Producers abound in the industry, but there’s really no benefit to unprofessional behavior.  The only possible outcome of on-set tantrums and other mistreatment of cast and crew is wasted time and resentment that leads to people not giving your production their all.  Losing your temper is never good, and should it happen in the heat of the moment, accept responsibility for getting everyone back on track.  Being professional also means being punctual and organized, and sticking to your schedule as much as possible — and/or working with a Producer who will enforce all that on you if it doesn’t come naturally.

Know your material.  Many new Directors go on-set with insufficient knowledge of the film they’re actually making.  (Doing so on your first production or two is basically inevitable, which is one reason why it’s good to start small for your first few projects.)  Good Directing requires having ideas about everything from camera angles to character motivations, and you need to know the material inside-out in order to make sensible decisions about all those things.

Actors will expect you to be able to discuss every scene in-depth, from a variety of aspects: tone, theme, character goals, character motivations, blocking, etc.  Preproduction exists to allow you to build a strong foundation of knowledge of and ideas about the material, so that inevitable on-set changes aren’t overwhelming.  It’s easier to make on-the-fly changes that don’t wreck the final product if you know the material.  You will have a very difficult time, and your end product will suffer for it (if you manage to finish at all), if you don’t know your material and have ideas about how everything should look, sound, and feel.

Be flexible.  Knowing what you want is essential, but so is realizing when you just can’t get it under the given circumstances, and being knowledgable and creative enough to quickly make a change that you can live with (good news: sometimes it turns out even better than your original idea).  If you become obsessed with how things were in rehearsals, and what you saw in your head during preproduction, you can grind your whole production to a halt by trying to do something that’s impossible with the time, budget, and level of experience your cast and crew have.

Even Directors of hundred million dollar films don’t get every shot and every performance to come out exactly the way they dreamed it would, and you’re not going to either.  The job of the Director and Producer is to get the best work out of everyone on-time and on-budget, without burning them out or destroying the produciton by being intractable.  Actors particularly like the opportunity to try out an alternate read or blocking if material isn’t working for them.  Flexibility doesn’t mean straying from your vision or letting your film get hijacked by your cast and crew, but rather being able to deal with the real world in which things sometimes go wrong and an alternate approach is needed.  Creative adjustments to on-set problems often lead to better films, and insisting on something that’s clearly become impossible is a good way wind up failing to even finish shooting.

Let the actors settle-in.  Give the cast and crew time to get to know each other at the beginning of the shoot, and schedule the easiest set-ups for the first 10% of production.  Then, during each scene, leave time for the physical set-up (dressing, lights, etc.) and line-ups (reintroducing the cast to the scene and how it’ll play out, including changes necessitated by differences in the actual set to the rehearsal space, or new ideas you had on how to make the scene play better).  Start each day with an easier scene, as well.  Building a groove before trying the most difficult scenes will always give you better results.

Listen.  Actors want to be a part of the creative process, not just puppets.  You’re under no obligation to take all of, or even any of, their suggestions.  But you’ll have a much better time on-set if you give them the opportunity to be heard.  The phrase “let’s try a take of your idea, but I’d still like to get one of this other approach” can buy you a tremendous amount of goodwill with your cast.  And if you’re any good at managing your set, it will do so without wasting time and sending you off schedule.  Again, you don’t want to let someone hijack the set with their own personal baggage, but don’t assume someone will just because they ask to be heard.  Most actors will be very professional and collaborative if you treat them the same way.

Don’t give line readings.  When fixing performance problems, never read a line and tell an actor to do it like you just did.  There are two reasons for this: it’s patronizing, and “if you’re such a good actor why aren’t you up there doing it yourself?”  There are plenty of other ways to fix line readings.  General hints, such as angrier, are ok but often inadequate.  Talking about character motivation is popular, and necessary, but not always sufficient.  A more visceral and specific hint is often better, such as: “say it like he just punched your mom in the face.”   If you have time, having the actors do a short scene that isn’t in the film as a character warmup can get you some good traction, and if people are having a particularly hard time staying in character asking them to do so all day, even between takes and on breaks, can also be helpful.  In general, you need to work with your actors and see what approaches work best for them as individuals — yet another good reason to have rehearsals.

Food, toilets, and breaks.  It sounds hyperbolic (I’m not sure how one would get such data, or how to verify it), but in a producing class I was once told that 80% of all low/no-budget productions fail because the Producer didn’t provide for decent food and toilet facilites, and/or the Director wouldn’t ever let anyone off set to use them.  Whether or not it’s true that 80% of productions fall on this sword, you don’t want yours to be one of them.  Especially when you’re not paying people (or not paying them well), you really had better find a way to budget for food, facilities, and breaks.

The basic take-home point of all of this is: Well treated people will work those 16 – 18 hour days needed to squeeze out a decent production within a tiny budget and schedule, and mistreated people will walk off set and never reutrn.

Image of An Actor Prepares
Image of Building A Character
Image of Creating A Role

Hitchhiker: Creative Gaffing and Gripping For The No-Budget Set

The lighting and grip crews are departments that too often don’t really get the respect they deserve. Lighting is headed by the Gaffer, a funny sounding word, made funnier by its use amongst the Hobbits in Lord of the Rings. That both the Key Grip and Gaffer’s assistants are called the Best Boy doesn’t make life any easier. More importantly, however, the practice of lighting and rigging the set is seen as mechanical, and any creativity involved is assumed to have come from the Cinematographer / Director of Photography.

But not all Cinematographers lord over their Gaffer. Many rely on the Gaffer’s experience to help them achieve the look they’re going for, giving general directions rather than micromanaging the placement of every light. The best Cinematographers develop the same kind of trust relationship with their Gaffer that the best Directors do with their Cinematographers. By learning each others’ styles and how to work together, a Cinematographer and Gaffer can develop a shorthand for quickly creating the right look for every shot.

Grips tend to get even less respect than Gaffers, even though they are essential to pulling off complex shots. Dolly grips, TechnoCrane operators, and the like are critical for Directors and Cinematographers that want the most sophisticated camera moves they can get. The rigging that Grips do ensures the safety of the cast and crew who are all standing beneath potentially tons of lights and light modifiers. Rigging problems can be quite vexing, and require some very creative solutions. A smart, talented Key Grip is just as critical to a shoot as any other lead role.

For no-budget shooting, lighting and rigging can become very creative. Even on a big set that creative problem solving can be the difference between hitting the look or not, but because no-budget shooters are always running low on time and money, there may be no second chances or backup plans.

On Hitchhiker, we had to shoot long dialog sequences inside a car. The actor was rightfully worried about trying to act while actually driving, particularly with a camera rig hanging off the car. Since we had nowhere near the budget for a truck or trailer rig, even a jury-rigged one, we decided to shoot indoors and do rear projection.

Erick built the rear projection screen using PVC pipe and translucent plastic from Home Depot. One interesting thing that we didn’t even think about until I noticed a problem on-set was whether or not the translucent material was color neutral.  It wasn’t, and I wound up having to adjust the color of all of our footage in Final Cut Pro in order to compensate for the fact that the plastic caused a color shift towards green.

Because the original plan was to shoot more footage in a moving car than we ultimately did, a substantial part of the budget had been used to purchase a car rig that wound up not getting used much in its expensive configuration).  But its suction cups became the basis for a cheap setup that Erick rigged to allow the camera to move with the car (which was jittered by someone pushing on the bumper — subtely, to make it seem as if it was hitting minor road bumps).

Car Rig and Rear Projection Screen

Car Rig and Rear Projection Screen with Emma, Dani, Austin, Danielle

You can see above that the car rig involves a long straight bracket (actually, two of them) bolted to the suction cups and stuck to the car.  The camera is then mounted to the bracket with a metal L-brace, and reinforced by being strapped to the bracket by the handle (one strap holds the long, heavy homebrew 35mm lens adapter Emma built, so it doesn’t torque off).  The image below has the straps outlined in red so you can see the basic idea (assume one of the straps runs down and is hiding the bracket, which is the case in that bad photo):

Me, Erick, and the Car Rig

Me and Erick hamming it up for the camera, next to the Car Rig and the Rim Light Rig (and Danielle, Brandon and Austin)

To keep the camera from jittering/swinging side-to-side or front-to-back, a simple counterweight and stabilization system can be added to the rig: a tripod.

The bracket also helps prevent this — if you only had straps and no L-bracket in your rig, you’d need the tripod even more. But even with the bracket, because of some of the parts not fitting together perfectly, the whole rig was a bit loose.  So the tripod also generally served to help generally maintain the camera angle even though the bracket was also doing part of that job.

Loosening the vertical lock to allow the camera to travel vertically is the trick, and the tripod does the rest in terms of helping maintain camera position, preventing swing and saving your camera if your rig fails (ours didn’t).

Car Rig

Car Rig with Dani, Danielle, and Austin

You may be wondering: “What is that mess at the opposite end of the rig bracket?”  Part of it is a jacket taped to the bracket with masking tape so nobody injured themselves on the bracket.  In building the bracket, we forgot to include any kid of safety cap.  Oops.  Another part of what you’re seeing is a clever and obviously no-budget lighting solution.  Here is a close-up:

Rim Light Rig

Rim Light Rig on Danielle

Dani, the DP, wanted a rim light on Danielle to give her head some separation from the background.  Fair enough, but we didn’t have the most appropriate fresnels.  We had no 150s at all, and a 300 was just too bright (we had used up all our C-stands and modifiers elsewhere).  However, we did have these little Ikea accent lights that had been purchased to create a dashboard lighting effects.

They weren’t all being used, because a dimmed, diffused Kino Diva was quite adequate to get most of the particular look that was desired in the conditions at hand. Had it been a higher contrast lighting setup lighting Austin and Danielle’s faces with nothing but small, dim, focused lights could have been quite useful, but as it was, only two of the several little lights we’d purchased were being used — one taped to the windshield on Danielle’s right side, and one taped to a piece of PVC pipe beneath her to fill a shadow on her neck).

I took a piece of scrap PVC pipe, and taped it to the “safety jacket” on the bracket, creating a perpendicular support.  Then Erick and I used masking tape to attach 3 of the little Ikea lights to the pipe. Two are seen in the image above, and here is the third (outlined in red so you can see it — and with an arrow indicating where the light is actually pointing):

Me and the Rim Light Rig

Me and the Rim Light Rig

We positioned the lights in 3 ways: by their position on the crossbar, by controlling the length of their cables (how low they hung), and by angling them into precise position at Dani’s request.  That was done quite simply: we ran masking tape along the cable and taped pieces of it together until it twised the cable into the necessary position.  Note the twisted tape on the middle light:

Me, Erick, the Rear Projection Screen and the Rim Light Rig

Me, Erick, the Rear Projection Screen and the Rim Light Rig

(We’re repositioning the crossbar in that photo.  It wasn’t held up by someone out of frame in the actual shoot.  That was considered, but even something very light starts to cause discomfort or even pain if you have to hold it up for a long time.)

The entire procedure took about 30 – 45 minutes, starting with the request for a rim light, deciding the Arri 300 would not work, telephoning someone that I know who has Arri 150s (but wasn’t home), my spotting the scrap piece of PVC, presenting the idea, and then Erick and I rigging the entire crazy solution.  It was possible because we were both luck enough to have some equipment in the kit that could possibly be made to work (the little lights) and we were willing to “think outside the box” to come up with a nonstandard solution.

I think it worked so well that I’m going to buy some of those little Ikea lights, PVC piping, and clamps (using tape was annoying) to permanently keep in my own kit.   Versatile gear, even if it’s not “proper” film gear, is a no-budget shooter’s best friend.

Hitchhiker observations, part 1: Planning and Scheduling

Among my many current projects is helping my friends Emma (Director) and Brandon (Producer) make Emma’s film Hitchhiker. In addition to providing an opportunity to collaborate with a talented, enjoyable group of people to work with, Hitchhiker can also provide some valuable lessons on “no-budget” (ultra low budget, which I set as less than approx. $500/minute of footage) filmmaking. Here are a few:

Preproduction Is Your Friend

Many a no-budget project has failed by simply falling apart due to lack of planning. My ongoing serial project has had problems with preproduction which I’ve been trying to address, but it is difficult to get collaborators excited about that phase of production, so it can be slow going. But it’s worth the time. Every hour spent on preproduction may very well save you two hours in production.

Creating things like script break downs, call sheets, location scouting reports, storyboards, and so on may seem like a luxury, but they are in fact a necessity. Good preproduction involves nailing down all the variables you can think of, so that you’re not completely out of your depths when something comes along that you didn’t think of. And, contrary to what some believe, preproduction doesn’t limit your on-set creativity. Rather, only through proper planning can you truly get creative on-set and make radical changes, because your planning gives you a stable base to fall back on when the new ideas go haywire.

Beat-boards (storyboards with only one key panel per shot) are an excellent and cost-effective preproduction tool that can make not only on-set life so much easier, but many other aspects of preproduction (selecting lenses, lights, and grip gear; spotting for props; making call sheets for cast; location scouting; and in our case, planning the rear-projection shots and acquiring the plates) and postproduction as well. Even simple beat-boards like the ones Emma did for Hitchhiker can give you a lot of bang for very little (or no, if you can draw your own) bucks:

pg1hitchhikerthumbs

All the “boring” up-front planning is part of the filmmaking process, not something that gets in the way of it. The better (and more complete) job you do in preproduction, the better your results will be.

Keep It Simple

Something I’m particularly bad at is keeping my short films simple. Hitchhiker is quite simple, and it’s going much more smoothly than some of my shoots for it. There are four actors in the whole piece, only two of which have had to appear for more than two shoot days, and there aren’t any set pieces, period clothes, or stunts. The outdoor dialog (outdoor dialog being the bane of no-budget shooting) is less than half the dialog in the film, and more than half of it takes place in a single location (inside a car). To avoid the problems of shooting (and sound recording) in a moving car, those shots will be done with the car in a building and the world outside the car being done via rear projection (which is easy to do if you don’t mind it looking like rear projection).

One way in which Hitchhiker seems less simple is the number of shots. If you count the rear-projection plates, there are over 170 shots from 9 pages of script. Many of these are reversals and same-as shots. This reduces the number of lighting set-ups to something closer to 30 (though that can balloon as lighting is subsequently tweaked on a per-shot basis “just a little bit here and there”).

There are two ways to shoot a sequence that is a series of reversals: shoot long continuous takes and then create the cuts in editing (doing one side of a reversal first, then the other) or call cut at the end of each shot (again, focusing on one side, and therefore one lighting set-up, first). Which one you can get away with depends on your actors, your style, and your own abilities. While you’ll probably get through more footage in a day if you can do continuous takes and then create the necessary shots in editing, doing this requires that the Actors and Director can deliver on this. The natural pacing that stems from this approach can be good, but the Director needs to guide the actors to deliver the scenes in a way that allows the editor to actually cut-away. If the Director and/or Actors can’t nail the right balance of pacing, or the Actors can’t remember the lines for the whole sequence (not all no-budget films manage to score experienced actors), you may be forced to cut at the end of each shot. Some Directors prefer the less naturalistic feel you get from doing discontinuous takes. In a highly stylized film, that may work best. And given time and ability, some Directors will do the continuous takes and then go back and do some or all of the shots discontinuous. Doing both creates more editing options, but can definitely can wear out a cast and crew. Director and Producer must work together to find the right fit given the abilities of their cast and crew and the specific needs of a given project.

On Hitchhiker, since Emma is working with improv actors, there has been more of a skew to let things roll and do continuous takes when camera angles are exactly the same across cuts specified in the boards. We haven’t done the main dialogue sequences (in a car, with rear projection behind) yet, so it remains to be determined if this approach will hold up — but if it does, for this particular project, it seems like the right choice.

Sometimes, Weird Stuff Happens

Especially if you’re a no-budget operation, your shoot schedule will almost certainly be blown at some point by weird stuff. On Hitchhiker we lost a shooting evening because a building caught fire across the street from the gas station where we were shooting. There was no plan in place for shooting different sequences should something go wrong with the location, so we all went home. When we lost this night, we were already re-shooting some shots that were previously wrecked by equipment failure. Because no-budget cast and crew members have other jobs, we didn’t have the cast members on-call for alternate options. Add slop time into your no-budget schedule for weird stuff to occur (in other words, book more shooting time than you think you’ll need — but not too much more, because you need to maintain good will with your unpaid cast and crew).

An entire weekend also had to be rescheduled due to an error in location scouting, resulting in at least a one month delay in the shooting schedule (because everyone has other jobs and projects). With no-budget filmmaking, preparation time is the only luxury you really have. Not only should you do careful preproduction (which Emma and Brandon did), you should also come up with plans for how to avoid losing whole days to random events (like fires) or mistakes you made in the original planning (like missing some small details that make a location ultimately unsuitable when the time comes to actually use it). Even in bigger budget filmmaking, it is best to always have contingency plans and fall-backs (for locations, actors, scenes to shoot in a given day, etc.), but in tiny budget filmmaking it can be essential. You need to spend a lot of energy keeping the cast and crew going when you hit speed bumps like this (I know from an ongoing serial project I’m working on, which has had several long spells of stagnant momentum), and it can be draining, especially on the Director and Producer. It’s better to try to avoid it in the first place.

People Eat Food

No-budget filmmaking thrives on volunteer efforts. Without people’s willingness to chip-in to make your project, it’s just not going to happen. Failing to feed people is, according to a couple veteran Indie Producers I’ve talked to, the number one cause of No and Low Budget projects completely falling apart. Considering how important it is, that’s an easy lesson to learn: make sure that you always set-aside time and money to feed your cast and crew. Period. No excuses. Fortunately for the project, Emma and Brandon are all over the food thing (though making your crew have to submit receipts to get repaid for some meals can become quite a pain when the size of the crew gets over 4 – 6 people).

Your Crew Have Other Jobs

Another thing that Hitchhiker production (mostly) got right is to understand that your volunteer crew isn’t earning a living from making your movie for free, and to take that into account. Except for a couple late weekdays, we’ve shot almost entirely on weekends or Friday nights, and generally ended early on Sunday. It is essential to accommodate your all-volunteer cast and crew in terms of their paid jobs, and also to understand that there may be other “resume builder” projects they’re going to work on after yours. If you don’t accommodate their work schedules, you’ll quickly lose cast and crew who need their day jobs to pay rent and buy food. Exhaustion sets in quickly, the people who stick it out despite the excessive demands will inevitably do a worse job than they otherwise would — and your production will suffer. Going past your allotted calendar time will cause people to vanish off into other projects that they’re working on. Hitchhiker has done a good job of avoiding the former, but has stepped on the landmine of the latter. It will be a challenge to schedule the last two shooting days, which have been pushed-back at least a month.

So Give Yourself Enough Time

Take the number of locations, set-ups, and overall shots, and make a shooting plan. Then, if you’re in a no-budget situation, factor in the fact that most of your cast and crew are inexperienced and therefore will inevitably be slow and make mistakes. Add to that a buffer that allows you to let people enjoy themselves, so they’ll want to help you again (and you’ll want to do it again), and then buffer that based on the assumption that you’ll mess up enough to burn at least 20% of your time. Do all that, and you’ve got yourself a no-budget schedule. So long as you can afford to buy food for all those shoot days (and rent any equipment you need, which if you’re a no-budget novice hopefully is basically nothing), and your schedule fits within your budget.

A mistake most inexperienced no-budget filmmakers make in scheduling (and in using their time) is to forget that set-up will be slow with an inexperienced crew (especially as they get tired — nobody but a triathlete or soldier comes into the business prepared for late night shoots and early next day calls). This leads to slow set-ups and rushed shots. That leads to getting into the editing room with only bad takes. Give yourself the time to do safety takes, and maybe even an alt here and there. Rehearse, learn your actors’ styles, and plan your schedule to allow your particular actors run the scene as many times as is comfortable to them. Don’t overdo it and shoot 40 takes of each shot (time is cheap as a no-budget filmmaker, but it’s not free — especially with borrowed locations), but generally moving on after 2 or 3 takes isn’t recommended until you’ve really gotten a feel for what is and isn’t a truly good take. It’s emotionally difficult to let actors do a safety take (and many will always want “just one more” — and feel unsatisfied if you never let them have it) when slow set-ups are dragging down your schedule, so make sure your schedule is realistic given your (and your crew’s) skill level.

Hitchhiker, a nine page script, will have shot over at least six full days, with at least five additional partial days. One day’s footage had to be re-shot due to camera problems. Three days had to be rescheduled due to problems on location. The original schedule was eight shooting days — a reasonable amount for a nine page script, even with a pretty small crew. Problems arose which caused the schedule to become scattered, but because of the good preproduction that was done (boards about what was to be shot, breakdowns and call sheets per sequence, etc.), it was relatively easy to flex the schedule based on the issues that arose.

Project Crew: Emma, Brandon, Dani, Austin, Danielle, Erick, Victor, Susan, Jesus, Jason, Jose, Sarah, Rebecca