Tips for the Aspiring Director
Working on video all day has led me to the dreaded video blahs, that point in making a tape when suddenly EVERYTHING, the visuals, the audio, the freakin’ STORY, becomes white noise. Zzzzzzzzz, an incessant buzz, and I just want to turn it off and it’s my own freakin’ movie.
Time for a break! A little goofiness to carry me over to the next editing day. There are good ways to take a break and there are bad ways to take a break. I went and saw a movie. Not always the number one option, after all, you’ve been working on video and/or film all day, and now you’re going to see one? Weirdo! Yes, I am a weirdo. I went and saw Stepford Wives though. Something completely goofy and ridiculous and also starring one of my hollywood crushes. My hollywood crushes are legendary. I collect movie star crushes the way pre-teen boys used to collect hockey cards. Does anyone still do that?
In film school my breaks from editing weren’t always the healthy choices. In fact, if you can come out of film school without having used and abused some substance, more power to ya! We went for beers so many times, oh my god. I’m surprised my liver still likes me. Beer breaks, pot breaks, cigarette breaks of course. But probably the all time worst drug I abused during a break was coffee. Too much coffee plus one undiagnosed manic depressive equals amusing yet scary trouble.
The worst time was when I got my hands on some chocolate covered espresso beans. I was an experimental film student after all. I decided that if one gave me a mild buzz and could get me through a 7am to 3am editing day, then by god, 15 chocolate covered espresso beans would get me to the moon baby! It started rather innocently with me laughing uproariously while fiddling with some reverb and electronic sound equipment. Editing room rave! I started spinning out of control, running between editing suites at emily carr, jumping around, talking way too fast, and then, the CRASH.
Thud. I was on the film department couch. Home was a fifteen minute walk away. There was no way I was going to get off that couch unassisted. Finally a dutiful friend (thank you Eileen) dragged me to her car and drove me up the hill and into bed, where I slept for the rest of the day.
So the moral of the story is one: do not rely on substance use for your diversions, and two: never eat fifteen chocolate covered espresso beans.