Feature Chronicles, Vol III: A day in the life of an Indie-Production Assistant
Doubling down and keeping the momentum.
The first truth I came to discover about myself, perhaps the first chime of self-awareness I had, is that I’m a very existential person. I wear this crown of thorns from acceptance and not necessarily pride; there are a lot of times where I wish I could sit my ass down and turn my brain off. To not wonder about one’s purpose or the state of the world, the warped perception of truth being subjective. It’s best that I don’t let my mind wander, be present to my surroundings, and stick to my work. At least you’ll never hear me claim boredom.
But even this notion is something that has fallen under the microscope in the past. I’ve always wondered how people are certain that their vocation — their chosen path — is the “right” one. I’ve been around a many people who lived with regrets and depression of time slipped away; I’ve seen it destroy one that I love most. It’s caused me to be very indecisive at times, and I’ve learned that making no decision is just as bad, if not worse, than making the “wrong” one. In fact, what I’ve come to find is that the only “wrong” decision is in making none at all. To truly live your life, one must simply continue doubling-down on what they’ve chosen to pursue, to find joy in the journey, and to discard the facade of an end destination.
This is obviously easier said than done, and I’m sure I’ve received this message countless times before it finally clicked now as a 30-year old man. For starters, what I stopped doing all together is to completely disregard pondering what others are doing and how they are living. It is truly none of my business and can only result in comparing myself to an unknown perspective. Not only this, but it’s very freeing. I’d never known just how much of my own energy I was giving away until I turned inwards and reutilized that same enthusiasm in figuring out my own shit. I discern what I enjoy, what I find myself doing and gravitating towards. I am simply myself.
Ultimately, the age-old question remains — though — becomes hushed over time through daily reassurance. It’s simple, really: life is hard as hell. It takes effort to find the beauty in it, though, not much. The solution I’ve found to any existential uncertainty lies in the impulse that gets you going. That thing that gets you out of bed every morning — whether topical, high-yielding, exhausting, or not— that produces inside of you a focus and a joy. That one thing that makes you coming back for more is what I’ve found to be the answer for me.
This is all to say that we are in the third week of filming for this feature. Coming off of one of the more difficult and exhausting weeks I’ve had in some time, both on and off set — mentally and physically — my main priority was to not bring any impressions from the week previous into the present.
I started off with pick-ups and drop-offs on Monday, and with the heat blazing down on me for the several hours I was entrusted with handling several imperative, **expensive** equipment, I could feel my past weariness potentially setting a bad tone for the days ahead.
It’s Tuesday now, however. My soothing bird-chirping alarm goes off at 4:30 am for my 6 o’clock call-time in Arleta — about 20 miles north of me. I’m immediately up and moving, though not from anything but my habitual morning routine. I arrive promptly at 5:59 before anyone else and get to see the sunrise over Mt. Gleason. It’s here, while setting up for the day, when I see my mentor/producer pull up to the automatic gate of the sound stage where I’m hit with a wave of euphoria in what to expect for the day — a day of independent filmmaking. I get to learn, to be of use, to grow, and to gain experience of my field. I know I’m right where I belong because it is everything I gravitate towards wrapped into one. Nothing else can give me such a feeling.
This is definitely the most hectic part of the day — and more than likely part of the week — for me. We’re moving inside of a new location, so on top of setting up breakfast, video village, printing call sheets and sides for the day, meeting the new location rep, and gathering everyone for a safety meeting, I also find it appropriate to help other departments get settled into their rooms. Thankfully, the production team is more than accommodating and seasoned. They all know the deal, plus, a fast start to the day always helps dust the sand out of one’s eye.
About an hour passes and I have time to myself. I sit on the edge of the lift gate on the cube truck I’ve been responsible for the entire set. It’s become a second home to me almost — a safe haven of sorts, though, not as of recent because, 1 — it’s hot as hell in that thing — and 2, I’m greatly enjoying being around set. This director has inspired me like no other, and I’m learning everyday I get to watch him. These were the center of my thoughts as I sat in silence and ate my breakfast to the sun breaching the mountains. I cherish these moments because it is where I am able to be most present and clear-headed.
With such, came the intention of the week — a message conjured from the subconscious: Hone in. At this point, I had read the many versions of the script and seen enough stills to know that this individual was something of an auteur. At the least, this director was very intentional and knew exactly what he wanted. The story itself is quirky, horrifying, hilarious, genre-bending, heartfelt and profoundly honest. It was time I organically found a way to be closer to set and to see the process of filmmaking unfold.
Lo and behold, I was tasked with doing the bell & light system as well as the hazer for the week. I will admit, it’s easy to cordially remove myself from the intimate area of video village. It’s already small enough, and my big ass takes up plenty of space (perhaps now more than ever, now that I know that I deserve to). These duties essentially made my being there essential, however, and so I reaped the benefits of being able to simply watch and take it all in. There is a lot that goes into being a good director. To name a few notions — the energy you bring to each scene, your overall demeanor, how you speak to talent and assert yourself in general — are crucial to a successful production. I found myself reflecting on how proud an 18-year old Malachi would be.
The rest of the days were filled with much of the same contentment. The week prior, I asked my AD for the shot list for the week. In her kind, esteemed fashion, she sent me the shot list for the entire film. While handling the bell & light and hazer, I would pull out my phone and follow along on the monitor as the storyboards and descriptions came to life before me. I don’t actually have words to describe how beneficial this was…
Closer to wrap, around 6pm or so, I was able to catch the other producer outside while excusing myself for a moment. His brother works as a production assistant with me, and so the tone of the conversation was already pretty personable. It seems that the two of them have no issues being amiable and forthright in how they communicate — another benefit to the type of rare individuals, particularly men, whom you meet on sets. He is also a fellow writer who has been in the industry for several decades and was kind enough to share his own journey with me.
The things he said were profoundly encouraging. I found myself fresh to unsettling thresholds he had already faced and felt heartened by his reassurance. There is nothing more valuable than getting to hear the perspective of someone whose gone through it and continues to this day. Ultimately you come to discover that the ones who are rewarded for their artistry are the ones who remain patient with themselves and the unfolding world around them — no matter how chaotic or unstable they may be.
I often wonder about whether or not I should include moments of stress or tension within these articles I’ve been writing. I guess what it comes down to, really, is that it’s not something that I tend to focus on after these moments happen, and so it never ends up in my notes for the day/week. Let’s be real though: we’re working twelve to fourteen hour days with a profoundly diverse group of technical individuals. We’ve been in close proximity with one another for three weeks now, soon to be going on our fourth and final. We’re also all artists, which gives us a foundation of passion in every interaction. Would it not be a miracle if there WEREN’T at least some varied disputes from time to time? Like how the director of a production can help set the tone, the production assistants can do the same by the general disposition they bring to the set everyday and at all times. The groundwork is just as vital as the summit. One must have a good balance of dignity and humility, and be compassionate while not being so sensitive. I’ve learned to let things go well before my time on sets. It’s best to keep it pushing, set a good example of a positive mindset, and to remember why everyone is there in the first place.
With that said, working on a soundstage is much different than working on location. It’s essentially a massive, soundproof warehouse with black walls that leave you no sense of time while working long days. Most times, it is either cozy or hot as hell due to the necessity of silence while recording sound for filming. And while you might think one is preferred over the other, the shared end result is feeling the drowsiness of days gone by.
This is typically rectified by taking a walk to the nice, well-lit, air-conditioned kitchen — where my coworker/fellow production assistant has been spoiling us with his selection of sweet & salty snacks throughout the production. I’m sure I’ll talk more on this later — as it has been my biggest temptation over the course these three weeks (I’m trying not to be so hard on myself at this point). The point I’m trying to get at, is that one has to make an effort to stay positive and awake throughout the day. My coworkers seem to organically know this, and do a great job of collectively amping the vibes.
I’ve grown very fond of the one-on-ones I’m able to get with coworkers in between setups and shots. I’m beginning to see both the trend and tone of such from what my general intentions have been this year, and feel the momentum growing as we approach the tail end of the summer. The comforting exchange I had with my producer in the beginning of the week was just one of the many. Those that I gravitate towards, whether it be an actor, the director, my fellow PA’s, wardrobe, makeup, sound, or even the intimacy coordinator, either share similar backgrounds or themes in their works they wish to share from their own perspective, and suddenly I don’t feel so alone or existential. Now, much of anything I’ve been tentative of manifesting with my own work and creative career don’t seem so out of reach. Now — at the end of the week — tired and fatigued all the same, I can rest my head on being able to establish connections from the uninhibited environment that comes from the solidarity of like-minded individuals.
We’re on our final week now. Soon, the illusion of our shared, condensed reality will come to an end, and we’ll all go back to our separate lives, on to the next job, searching for financial stability once again! Someone once told me that a film is like a shooting star, and I feel the same about the creation of such. It’s a fleeting moment of time that is all the more appreciated when it’s end is on the horizon. While I know my intentions for the final week will appear when I’m immersed in it, I’ll be sure to prioritize cherishing every moment I have left with this crew, and do my best to not let the established bonds falter in the future. Till next time, friends.
