Here's a short film I made which is completely not a short film, it's actually kind of a longish video, but in the biz there's nothing to call it except "short film." If it was a book it'd be a novella. Originally conceived as a feature, but hella things happened along the way, and this is the version I'm rolling out with. It's the more-or-less final version, give or take some color correction and titles, at a youtube-friendly medium resolution.
It's about a buncha hipsters who die suddenly and then come back to life after three days like it was no big deal. Please enjoy....
WHAT IF PEOPLE DIED, PART 1
WHAT IF PEOPLE DIED, PART 2
What If People Died (Part 2) from dominic mah on Vimeo.
Showing posts with label indie. Show all posts
Showing posts with label indie. Show all posts
Sideways (the best independent film of whatever year it was, by me)
EXT. LOVELY CALIFORNIAN WINO HANGOUT
Two dudes sit around getting sloshed, in a remarkable portrait of middle-aged sensitivity and angst. Nearby, a filmmaker eats from a cheese plate.
MILES: Glug, glug. Not drinking any fucking Merlot.
JACK: Balls! Buddy, you're like my penis. I don't know how to say it exactly, but you evoke my dick.
MILES: Why won't she call? I'm so money, baby. I'm going to pour grape juice all over myself.
Miles does this. Jack whips it out. A film critic laps grape juice off of Miles' toes.
FILM CRITIC: Amazing! Hilarious! How do you feel about accusations of elitist yuppieism leveled against your film?
JACK: If you want to see a movie about people with no fucking phone, go rent "Raising Fucking Victor Vargas."
MILES: I know grapes. Actually, I know about grapes which serve as a metaphor for me. I learned how to make metaphors for my suffering in Dramatic Writing 101. That's what separates this film from standard Hollywood fare like "Cold Mountain" or "Swingers."
JACK: Plus the fact that I'm not just an actor, but a washed-up actor.
FILM CRITIC: Genius!
Two female fantasy figures approach, also sloshed.
STEPHANIE: I need to be spanked!
FILM CRITIC: That's the best line of dialogue ever written!
MAYA: Miles. Miles Miles Miles Miles Miles. Miles Miles Miles, Miles Miles. Release me, Miles.
MILES: I Hate It When People Pay Attention To Me. STILL not drinking any fucking Merlot.
JACK: Hey look. Some interesting fat people.
STEPHANIE: But YOU SAID YOU LOVED ME!
FILM CRITIC: That's the truest sentiment a filmmaker has ever captured in an original vision such as this one! I was sort of afraid to say anything about the abortion movie and the one that dealt with teenage sexuality, but this is a yarn that I can unabashedly hail as ....****....exhilarating....a delight! Much more penetrating than "Cats."
JACK: I once penetrated a cat.
MILES: I sure hope someone notices that I'm the best actor ever.
MAYA: Don't give up, Miles. Keep at it. Stay the course. Someday you'll have a track record, and then no one will care what you do next. Least of all me.
MILES: You're so non-judgemental, aligned with my interests, available and photogenic! Your physical beauty must be a sign that I can be redeemed. Going to run away now.
Miles runs away. Stephanie clobbers Jack with a bowling ball.
MAYA: Who wants a beer?
Two dudes sit around getting sloshed, in a remarkable portrait of middle-aged sensitivity and angst. Nearby, a filmmaker eats from a cheese plate.
MILES: Glug, glug. Not drinking any fucking Merlot.
JACK: Balls! Buddy, you're like my penis. I don't know how to say it exactly, but you evoke my dick.
MILES: Why won't she call? I'm so money, baby. I'm going to pour grape juice all over myself.
Miles does this. Jack whips it out. A film critic laps grape juice off of Miles' toes.
FILM CRITIC: Amazing! Hilarious! How do you feel about accusations of elitist yuppieism leveled against your film?
JACK: If you want to see a movie about people with no fucking phone, go rent "Raising Fucking Victor Vargas."
MILES: I know grapes. Actually, I know about grapes which serve as a metaphor for me. I learned how to make metaphors for my suffering in Dramatic Writing 101. That's what separates this film from standard Hollywood fare like "Cold Mountain" or "Swingers."
JACK: Plus the fact that I'm not just an actor, but a washed-up actor.
FILM CRITIC: Genius!
Two female fantasy figures approach, also sloshed.
STEPHANIE: I need to be spanked!
FILM CRITIC: That's the best line of dialogue ever written!
MAYA: Miles. Miles Miles Miles Miles Miles. Miles Miles Miles, Miles Miles. Release me, Miles.
MILES: I Hate It When People Pay Attention To Me. STILL not drinking any fucking Merlot.
JACK: Hey look. Some interesting fat people.
STEPHANIE: But YOU SAID YOU LOVED ME!
FILM CRITIC: That's the truest sentiment a filmmaker has ever captured in an original vision such as this one! I was sort of afraid to say anything about the abortion movie and the one that dealt with teenage sexuality, but this is a yarn that I can unabashedly hail as ....****....exhilarating....a delight! Much more penetrating than "Cats."
JACK: I once penetrated a cat.
MILES: I sure hope someone notices that I'm the best actor ever.
MAYA: Don't give up, Miles. Keep at it. Stay the course. Someday you'll have a track record, and then no one will care what you do next. Least of all me.
MILES: You're so non-judgemental, aligned with my interests, available and photogenic! Your physical beauty must be a sign that I can be redeemed. Going to run away now.
Miles runs away. Stephanie clobbers Jack with a bowling ball.
MAYA: Who wants a beer?
homeland security and me
So I finally went to small claims court about the police-breaking-into-our-grip-truck thing., and I did not win. Apparently the police have immunity to cause certain kinds of damage when they're doing their thing, even if the only crime being committed is suspicious parking. The officers who came to represent the LAPD did advise me that I should be suing the Department of Homeland Security, since it was apparently their man, Danny Roth, who initiated the whole action. He called in the LAPD only because he didn't have his own bomb squad handy. Actually the entity that truly owes me the 800 bucks is his dog (also named "Dani") who sat on the truck, causing everyone to go into alert mode.
....It's not that I can't see it from their persepctive. "Thank God at least you weren't really a terrorist!" "What were you thinking parking a white truck in front of a federal building after the Oklahoma City bombings?" But what itches me is the idea that from a legal perspective, this story seems to shake out as: Homeland Security investigated a possible terrorist action, and some stuff got damaged in the process, thank goodness no one was hurt. When what really happened was: I parked a truck, half the city arrived to smash in the window and the door, and then they left, and I got to pay for it.
...Am also considering asking John Kerry for my donation back.
....It's not that I can't see it from their persepctive. "Thank God at least you weren't really a terrorist!" "What were you thinking parking a white truck in front of a federal building after the Oklahoma City bombings?" But what itches me is the idea that from a legal perspective, this story seems to shake out as: Homeland Security investigated a possible terrorist action, and some stuff got damaged in the process, thank goodness no one was hurt. When what really happened was: I parked a truck, half the city arrived to smash in the window and the door, and then they left, and I got to pay for it.
...Am also considering asking John Kerry for my donation back.
OK. Just got a letter saying my claim to the city has been denied. Apparently the police are not accountable if they break into your vehicle to establish that no crime is being committed. Actually no reason was given for the denial, but now I'm starting to get ticked off.
....By the way, apparently the police do not "break and enter," they "enter without keys" (the technical term) since, after all, breaking and entering is against the law.
....By the way, apparently the police do not "break and enter," they "enter without keys" (the technical term) since, after all, breaking and entering is against the law.
So I just got a letter from the City Clerk of Los Angeles telling me that a claim number has been assigned to my claim. Not that they're anywhere close to paying me for the damages, but I do have a claim number now.
...I didn't get to explain this story in full earlier, but now I will: flashing back to Friday, March 12, we loaded an Unmarked White rental truck with grip gear to begin a 5 day shoot at the State Building in Van Nuys (which you can sometimes get for free if you're an indie filmmaker and you go through certain hoops, yadda yadda). We parked the truck next to the building because I figured, hey, it's next to a police station, it'll be safe overnight. And then went home to stress about the shotlist.
...At 6:30 AM the next morning (Saturday the 13th) I'm woken up by my cell phone. I figure it's Carrie or someone with a last minute production crisis. In fact, it's someone wanting to know about the truck parked in front of the State Building. (In my sleepiness I don't pick up the guy introducing himself the first time) He wants to know if I'm the Dominic Mah who rented it. Yesssss, I say, sensing trouble. "It's causing quite a stir," he says. "What kind of stir?" I ask, and then I remember to ask who again it is that I'm speaking to. Officer Somebody from the LAPD.
...So it turns out that during the night, a patrol car in the Van Nuys area has called in about a suspicious unmarked van parked in front of a State facility. Keeping in mind that this is just a few days after the bombings in Madrid and all of our agencies are understandably at a high state of alert. So they call the bomb squad on this unmarked van, they send a bombsniffing dog to it, and the dog sits. Probably it smells some piece of camera gear that is like something used in bombs, I dunno. At this point, the LAPD goes into action mode. They seal off several blocks' radius around the building, and start busting into the truck, breaking the window and the side door locks. They've already got people rousting the rental company owner out of bed so he can go to his office to use the computer to find my name as the renter.
... Meanwhile the officer on the phone is telling me first to drive to Van Nuys right away, then he changes his mind once he figures out I won't be able to get through the blockade. So they send a local police car to get me instead. Within two minutes, a siren is approaching my apt, just about the same time I'm getting out of my pajamas. I throw on clothes and run outside, where the car is pulling up to the front of my building. The officer says, "Are you Dominic Mah?" Yeah, I say. "Ever wanted to ride in a police car real fast?" he says.
... Actually, no. But I get in anyway and off we go with sirens blaring towards Van Nuys. When we get there about ninety seconds later, we have to go through several checkpoints before getting to the place where I parked, in search of something called the CP (I guess this is "Command Post."). When we reach the truck, I have to stay inside the car for a while until they're ready to talk to me. There are dozens of cops, firemen, and federal officers (identifiable by their jackets that say "Federal Officer" on them) around. I hear someone say, "So how much is this costing the city?" By this time they seem to have figure out that there is no imminent terrorist threat and they're all acting a bit embarassed to be there. A man from the bomb squad approaches me, very friendly, and says "Mr. Mah, I'm going to show you some of the things we had to do to enter your vehicle."
... The things they had to do included breaking through the passenger side window and also the lock on the side door, all so they could get inside and rummage around our rented lighting equipment. I was a little too shocked still to be know what to say, and the police, now that I had arrived, were in a hurry to disperse. The bomb squad guy gave me his card and told me how to file a claim with the city. The explained to me several times how the bombings in Madrid had put them on alert, and how we were living in a new world. Then they left before I had the presence of mind to ask them to clean up the shattered glass around the truck. I'm standing there dumbfounded for about ten minutes, and then the crew starts showing up to begin our shooting day.
... Anyway, that was how our little indie movie encountered the War on Terror. It's funny because there are probably hundreds of white grip trucks parked around Los Angeles on any given night. It's just not a good idea to park them next to state facilities without marking them with some sort of contact info. A lesson learned.
... Oh, and I almost forgot the (in hindsight) funniest part. While I was initially on the phone with the police, in my PJs, and told them that the truck was full of lighting equipment, he started running down the airline security questions on me. "Were you present when the truck was loaded?" "Uh....no...my friend did it." "What's your friend's name?" "Uh...Wolf." (Instantly regretted saying this.) "What's his first name?" (Wolf is actually his first name.) "Uh....Aasulv....he's from Norway." (Instantly regretted saying Norway.) This was the point at which I was sure that the movie was all over. Instead though, the movie is happily finished shooting and I'm just waiting for a reimbursement from the city for the truck damage.
...I didn't get to explain this story in full earlier, but now I will: flashing back to Friday, March 12, we loaded an Unmarked White rental truck with grip gear to begin a 5 day shoot at the State Building in Van Nuys (which you can sometimes get for free if you're an indie filmmaker and you go through certain hoops, yadda yadda). We parked the truck next to the building because I figured, hey, it's next to a police station, it'll be safe overnight. And then went home to stress about the shotlist.
...At 6:30 AM the next morning (Saturday the 13th) I'm woken up by my cell phone. I figure it's Carrie or someone with a last minute production crisis. In fact, it's someone wanting to know about the truck parked in front of the State Building. (In my sleepiness I don't pick up the guy introducing himself the first time) He wants to know if I'm the Dominic Mah who rented it. Yesssss, I say, sensing trouble. "It's causing quite a stir," he says. "What kind of stir?" I ask, and then I remember to ask who again it is that I'm speaking to. Officer Somebody from the LAPD.
...So it turns out that during the night, a patrol car in the Van Nuys area has called in about a suspicious unmarked van parked in front of a State facility. Keeping in mind that this is just a few days after the bombings in Madrid and all of our agencies are understandably at a high state of alert. So they call the bomb squad on this unmarked van, they send a bombsniffing dog to it, and the dog sits. Probably it smells some piece of camera gear that is like something used in bombs, I dunno. At this point, the LAPD goes into action mode. They seal off several blocks' radius around the building, and start busting into the truck, breaking the window and the side door locks. They've already got people rousting the rental company owner out of bed so he can go to his office to use the computer to find my name as the renter.
... Meanwhile the officer on the phone is telling me first to drive to Van Nuys right away, then he changes his mind once he figures out I won't be able to get through the blockade. So they send a local police car to get me instead. Within two minutes, a siren is approaching my apt, just about the same time I'm getting out of my pajamas. I throw on clothes and run outside, where the car is pulling up to the front of my building. The officer says, "Are you Dominic Mah?" Yeah, I say. "Ever wanted to ride in a police car real fast?" he says.
... Actually, no. But I get in anyway and off we go with sirens blaring towards Van Nuys. When we get there about ninety seconds later, we have to go through several checkpoints before getting to the place where I parked, in search of something called the CP (I guess this is "Command Post."). When we reach the truck, I have to stay inside the car for a while until they're ready to talk to me. There are dozens of cops, firemen, and federal officers (identifiable by their jackets that say "Federal Officer" on them) around. I hear someone say, "So how much is this costing the city?" By this time they seem to have figure out that there is no imminent terrorist threat and they're all acting a bit embarassed to be there. A man from the bomb squad approaches me, very friendly, and says "Mr. Mah, I'm going to show you some of the things we had to do to enter your vehicle."
... The things they had to do included breaking through the passenger side window and also the lock on the side door, all so they could get inside and rummage around our rented lighting equipment. I was a little too shocked still to be know what to say, and the police, now that I had arrived, were in a hurry to disperse. The bomb squad guy gave me his card and told me how to file a claim with the city. The explained to me several times how the bombings in Madrid had put them on alert, and how we were living in a new world. Then they left before I had the presence of mind to ask them to clean up the shattered glass around the truck. I'm standing there dumbfounded for about ten minutes, and then the crew starts showing up to begin our shooting day.
... Anyway, that was how our little indie movie encountered the War on Terror. It's funny because there are probably hundreds of white grip trucks parked around Los Angeles on any given night. It's just not a good idea to park them next to state facilities without marking them with some sort of contact info. A lesson learned.
... Oh, and I almost forgot the (in hindsight) funniest part. While I was initially on the phone with the police, in my PJs, and told them that the truck was full of lighting equipment, he started running down the airline security questions on me. "Were you present when the truck was loaded?" "Uh....no...my friend did it." "What's your friend's name?" "Uh...Wolf." (Instantly regretted saying this.) "What's his first name?" (Wolf is actually his first name.) "Uh....Aasulv....he's from Norway." (Instantly regretted saying Norway.) This was the point at which I was sure that the movie was all over. Instead though, the movie is happily finished shooting and I'm just waiting for a reimbursement from the city for the truck damage.
INDIE FILMMAKING IN THE AGE OF TERROR
...So it's 6:30 AM today and my phone's ringing, I imagine it's someone from cast or crew with some last minute crisis that will require solving before 8 AM calltime.
....Soooooo wrong. It's the LAPD. An officer asks me if I'm renting a truck parked outside the Van Nuys state building (where we're shooting this weekend). Yes, I am. We parked it there last night with all the grip gear because we thought it'd be safe. "It's causing quite a stir," the officer says.
...More on this later.
...So it's 6:30 AM today and my phone's ringing, I imagine it's someone from cast or crew with some last minute crisis that will require solving before 8 AM calltime.
....Soooooo wrong. It's the LAPD. An officer asks me if I'm renting a truck parked outside the Van Nuys state building (where we're shooting this weekend). Yes, I am. We parked it there last night with all the grip gear because we thought it'd be safe. "It's causing quite a stir," the officer says.
We were able to shoot at a state facility in Van Nuys this weekend because a commercial for a PT Cruiser was shooting there and already paying for the monitors that the state requires, so another indie film shooting on the premises didn't make any diference to them. Of course, they wrapped before we had finished the first half of our day, but luckily the monitor was a cool guy and hung around so we could shoot some more. I was worried he'd be in a rush home to see the Oscars or somesuch, but all he really wanted was some pizza which luckily we had in abundance. So hopefully we may be allowed to shoot there again, because it is a really great, strange, space-age building with many open-air walkways and empty offices and stacks and stacks of boxes full of junk files that the state apparently can't pay anyone to destroy.
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