Goodbye Hitler of Green Gables

It’s the day after. Time to take down the tents and sweep out the cages.

Last night around 2AM, Craig declared “Ladies and Gentlemen, that’s a wrap on
the Beast of Bottomless Lake!” I had a very brief moment of emotion – sadness and relief – but I had somehow expected it to be more. I figure that I had anticipated that moment so many times that I had, by the time it actually
happened, already processed those emotions. We picked up our things and headed for the cars. Shook some hands and said “see you in the morning” or “see you
on Sunday” – depending upon who was talking.

I ordered Craig to take today off. So far all evidence suggests that for the most part he has.

Today we inventoried equipment and returned the various bits and pieces. Lights and grip equipment, mics and of course our equipment trailer.

We got a great deal from U-Haul on a trailer. You may be familiar with the current U-Haul corporate image: each of their vehicles has a painting on the side of it, each one representing a landmark from some place in North America. Wyoming: Devil’s Tower. The VLA in Virginia; the CN Tower in Ontario and… as appeared on our trailer… Anne of Green Gables, except a previous renter had spray-painted a Hitler moustache on her — something which continued to amuse us right through to the end of shooting. I hope someone has a photo of it [image below right courtesy of the author].

I drove Gordon out to the ferry, and on the way home had a little chat with Keith. I’d had a chat with Keith on my solo trip to the Okanagan which made me cry. It had been a good way to start the production. I figured I end it the same way. It wasn’t as emotional as the first talk had been. Not even close really. I suppose that we managed to finish pretty strongly — I am sick as a
dog, but apart from that, strongly – and while there were inevitable issues to deal with along the way, we feel really good about most of what we accomplished in this past month. The fact that things have gone well perhaps makes this less emotionally charged than the uncertainty of the beginning was.

But there we go. We are done. …shooting.

— Kennedy
Writer Dude

Union Tale Finale

Oh this is precious.

I’m really just going to let this one speak for itself, with the minimal amount of set up.

An email from a few days after we submitted our package to UBCP:

From: Lesley Brady
Sent: Wednesday, April 25, 2007 4:18 PM
To: Kennedy Goodkey
Subject: Beast of....

Kennedy:

We will require the completed list (appendix A) with all partners listed and signed off before we can counter sign to accept it. How soon will you be able to get that? Also, when do you go to camera?

Regarding your insurance, will you please provide, when available, proof of your insurance?

Thanks,

Lesley Brady
Business Agent, Film & Television
Union of BC Performers

And my response:

From: Kennedy Goodkey
Sent: Wednesday, April 25, 2007 4:32 PM
To: Lesley Brady
Subject: RE: Beast of....

Lesley,

Partners list... oh crap... we've had a miscommunication then. From my understanding of your's and my previous conversation, the real concern was the UBCP members - and the rest could wait.
Umm, I will look at it first thing tomorrow and get a realistic guess. With so many of the partners in the Okanagan<>th,

Insurance... I understand that it was paid today - I will make arrangements to have proof send ASAP.

Kennedy

The day I dutifully got those additional signatures in was Monday May 7^th. That day Lesley and I had about email exchanges and again the next day. The specific content is rather dull and boring, the important point being that we talked several times back and forth about the details of the additional signatures and nothing else – I have these emails, but I’m not going to bore you with them.

Since then…

Not a word. Not a thing. We have waited by the phone for the call saying “Alright! Go ahead!”
Today is the last business day before we go to camera. Still nothing. With two hours before the Union office closed I sent the following email as a response to the thread that inquired and provided a response to our first day of filming – so all of that information was included:

From: Kennedy Goodkey
Sent: Friday, May 11, 2007 2:30 PM
To: Lesley Brady
Subject: RE: Beast of....

Hi Lesley,

Just checking in to see where things are at on your end in the MIP?

- Kennedy

The response: (I have redacted the names of the innocent.)

From: Lesley Brady
Sent: Friday, May 11, 2007 2:30 PM
To: Kennedy Goodkey
Subject: RE: Out of Office AutoReply: Beast of....

Thank you for your email. Please note that I am currently away on vacation and will not be returning until Monday, May 28^th.

If you require more immediate assistance please redirect your email to Txxxx Cxxxx, Manager Film & Television at txxxx.cxxxx@ubcp.com.

If your inquiry is regarding our Ultra Low Budget Program, please forward your inquries to Lxxxx Lxxxxx at lxxxx.lxxxxxx@ubcp.com.

Thanks and have a great day.
Lesley Brady

Do you think she ONCE mentioned that she was going away? No.

I sent the following email to the redacted ladies mentioned above:

From: Kennedy Goodkey
Sent: Friday, May 11, 2007 3:21 PM
To: lxxxx.lxxxxxx@ubcp.com; txxxx.cxxxx@ubcp.com
Subject: RE: Out of Office AutoReply: Beast of....

Lxxxx & Txxxx - (Apologies I'm not quite certain which of you this should be addressed to.)

We have a MIP application in to Lesley Brady (Submitted April 23rd) and we have not heard back on it. We go to camera on Monday (May 14^th) which she was explicitly informed of on April 25^th, if it was not communicated earlier. I.E. Today is the last business day. We even emailed each other as recently as Tuesday of this week - and I felt all looked well so I did not worry.

Until today...

I sent her an email inquiring about the status a few minutes ago and got the Out of Office Auto-Reply directing me to each of you in various circumstances, and I'm not sure which applies.

Sorry that this is very 'last minute' - the folly of my being too patient.

My number here is 604-xxx-xxxx. Or via email at this address.

I'm not sure what the prudent way to proceed would be.

- Kennedy Goodkey

Now, there IS a happy ending to the story. Redacted Lady #1, Lxxxx (which is not pronounced the way it is spelled) phoned the Provost Pictures office around 4pm with news.

Long story short: The person who is signing off on the application was not available before Lesley left for vacation. The application will likely be signed off on on Monday. If not it will be shortly thereafter. Lesley just neglected to inform us.

“So, let me get this absolutely clear, Lxxxx. We can go ahead with impunity, despite not having official word.”

“Yes.”

“Thanks Lxxxx.”

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must go find a squirrel to shit upon.

— Kennedy

A Bird Shit on a Squirrel

This may be my last entry until we are finished shooting. It almost certainly will be until we return from K-Town.

We've taken to calling the Okanagan portion of the shoot 'K-Town' which is a bit of a misnomer. We are shooting in Kelowna — which has a store called 'K-Town Souvenirs', so I suppose Kelowna is K-Town. But in fact we are shooting more in Summerland (home of the late — and arguably first great — Canadian playwright, George Ryga) than anywhere else.

Craig has left for K-Town this evening. I am left here. My 'to-do' list is by now very short and can be summed up by the single word 'pack.' Saying that all I have left to do is 'pack' is a bit specious though. What I have to do is pack a fully ordinanced army and get them to K-Town by Saturday.

Sleep? Whatever. I remember what sleep tastes like. It IS something that you taste… right?

I soldier on.

I don't know who it was who first said something to the effect of ‘commit to your shooting date and all the problems will solve themselves.' I should point out that anyone who can't make that claim is a failed independent film-maker and has no credibility to take seriously. So far we've had a lot of luck in the 'problems will solve themselves' department. Especially in the past three days. A lot of ulcer-makers have in fact solved themselves.

For example, 45 minutes after our third (yes, THIRD) special props builder who was building the 'Ness-Sled' called to bail on me, my upstairs neighbour — entirely unaware of my plight — knocked on my door to tell me about a friend of his who he works with who… do I even have to finish this sentence?

The list goes on. And I think a lot of that has to do with the act of soldiering on, not caring about the crap that comes your way.

Late last week I was on the phone with Craig — we must talk more than he and his wife have this month — and was in the middle of explaining some situation or another to him (it's truly irrelevant what). As I was talking, a squirrel was walking along the fence in front of the office (oh, how I long for the day when I can call it an 'apartment'… 'MY apartment' again) when suddenly out of the blue, swooped a bird. And the damned thing shit-bombed the squirrel! Dead on, too! The squirrel kept on walking.

Whatever sentence I was in the middle of saying was immediately high-jacked by the exclamation "A bird just shit on a squirrel!"

How unlikely is it that a bird would try that, let alone actually hit? And the squirrel just kept on going along the fence.

Craig suggested that that should be our motto: "A bird shit on a squirrel." No matter how bizarre or unlikely the mishap, keep soldiering on, just like that squirrel.

And it seems as though there is nothing left that can stop us.

Well, there IS the union thing again.

"Again?", you ask, "What ‘Union thing’?"

Well, we didn't talk about it before for any number of political reasons. But it's now too late for it to be an issue. Last Summer when we postponed, it wasn't quite as our official story has been, that “the forest fires in the US blew too much smoke into the Okanagan”; which they did, but we COULD have shot through that, as unpleasant as it would have been. It was the actors’ union. OUR union. They refused to let us make the movie. I'm not going to get into it in detail. Suffice to say that with less than two weeks to go, they disallowed our low-budget waiver. Our waiver which clearly met all the stated stipulations of the low-budget program.

Over the past months they provided us a new option - a new option which we are the pilot project for. The MIP - Member Initiated Production. We've done our best to help them identify the issues with it, and again we've met the requirements… which was not easy, as they several times told us one thing, then turned around and told us that they had made a mistake and that the 'other thing' was the case. One of these cost us nearly two weeks… ending only earlier this week! The other was solved in a day… ALSO this week.

I may elaborate later, but I've got an army to move.

For the record, the union requires that you submit TWO weeks in advance. We submitted in advance three weeks to the day.

We shoot on Monday. Five days away from my writing this. They still haven't said 'yes.' And when they do, we still have to make offers to our cast's agents… uh, WHEN am I doing THAT? Remember I have to muster the army?! Craig is already in K-Town with David.

The fact is, we've committed far too many resources to this project already; resources we can't get back. And by now, all our Union actors are producers of the project. If the Union happened to say 'no' right now, do you think there is a labour court in the country that would agree with them and say "You can't be in this film THAT YOU ARE PRODUCING"?! I doubt it.

But let's say that anywhere between tomorrow morning and Monday when cameras roll and no-one is here in 'Provost Pictures’ Office' to take the call, that the Union calls and says "Sorry!" Not that this is how they did it last time; last time they left voice mail just as they closed their office for a long-weekend, the cowards!

It just doesn't matter what kind of shit bomb they dump on us, we're going to keep walking along that fence.

In any case, it's fucking asinine that we've now TWO business days before the shoot and we haven't heard from them.

— Kennedy

Method Acting

I’ve never been one to take method acting too seriously. I always identify with Sir Lawrence Olivier when I tell (or hear) the famous Marathon Man Dustin Hoffman/Olivier exchange (I do wish my career would identify with Sir Lawrence Oliver [or Dustin Hoffman for that matter!]). However, after the first read-thru, going out to Tim Hortons to get some sandwiches for some of the cast and crew, I seemed to be shanghaied by the spirit of my character “Neville.” What should have been a 15–20 minute excursion turned into a hour-and-a-half long series of mishaps which, at the time, felt extremely tragic but quickly resolved into a comedy once the experience was over; which is what The Beast of Bottomless Lake is, isn’t it? A tragedy to those living through it but a comedy to those watching it.

It started out simply enough: David Nykl, who is playing Paul – a hapless character just like Neville! (oh why did we go together? Why didn’t I pick one of the responsible characters in the movie to go get lunch with??? Ah, hindsight!) Anyhow, David and I following somewhat vague directions start walking (actually David is on his bicycle – which I have to admit he didn’t even offer to double me on! What rudeness!) and immediately go the wrong way. It takes us 4 or 5 blocks to realize our mistake and once corrected we continue on our way, having what I must say is a very pleasant conversation. Passing the Cactus Club, David convinces me that we should stop and eat there (far nicer that Tim Hortons he points out, and I counter that the cute waitresses are a bonus). Yes, it was very hard for him to convince me to eat at the Cactus Club (twist that rubber arm!). And to seal the deal, he quite rightly points out that I can go to Tim Hortons, which we both think is only one block away, after I order my food and pick up the sandwiches only to return to C Club in time to eat my hot food. Ahhh, the best laid plans of mice and men (I’m not sure where I stand in that comparison).

At this point, things start to go horribly awry.

It’s a hot day, so I leave my jacket at the Club only to return immediately to retrieve the paper with all the food orders on it. Aha! Things are going well; disaster averted. Imagine how embarrassing to arrive at T.H. (Tim Hortons) only to realize the food order is sitting in a jacket pocket at the C.C. (Cactus Club). Full of sunshine and happiness over disaster averted, I (or shall I say ‘Neville’ at this point, because he has definitely started to take over) walk to TH only to find that TH is not where our vague directions led us to expect it to be. Quel surprise!

Having no one to ask where it is, Neville pulls out his phone and — with ease — tracks down its actual location. It’s another 2 (long!) blocks away. Thinking of my meal about to be served, Neville breaks into a jog. Construction on the street has removed the sidewalk and replaced it with a dirt track liberally strewn with rocks (actually think boulders; that is more their size). Jogging around a woman who must be the slowest walker in the world, I (Neville) step on a boulder and manage to twist my knee (ouch!). Now, sweating and limping (ok, limping only a little – but it sounds good doesn’t it: “sweating and limping”?) I jog-hop the 2 blocks to TH. Yeah, there it is!

Entering TH I wait (impatiently) in line and finally get waved over to the “cash only” counter. But no problem I have collected the cash from the cast/crew so I place the order (which took quite a while as actors, it turns out, have very specific ideas of what belongs on a sandwich!). Payment time. I empty my normal money carrying pocket: you know, the one where you always stick your money. But sadly there is only a $10 bill in it. No problem! I remember putting the money in a different pocket so it wouldn’t get mixed up with my money. Smart! I congratulate myself on my foresight as I start to check my other pockets… I’m not so congratulatory as I check them again when they turn up empty… and again.

What the hell? I look at the floor. Did I drop the money?

And then it hits me: I must have put the money in my jacket pocket with the food order!?! Getting a little desperate, I offer my Visa®. But no, TH for some unknown reason doesn’t accept Visa® (Who the hell doesn’t accept Visa®!???).

Sweating a little more and causing a little bit of a commotion, I hit on Interac™. Saved! Except we have to switch lines since I’m in a cash-only line.

Ok, once that is done and I bump (on instruction of the staff, I might add) an elderly gentleman who was just about to order his lunch out of his line (who insists on standing right behind me — and I mean RIGHT behind me), I offer up my card and watch in amazement as it doesn’t work.

5 attempts… 8 attempts… Manager is called over… plastic bag is found and more attempts are made with plastic wrapped around my card… (remember the elderly gentleman? He is muttering not so quietly into what feels like the back of my neck things that shouldn’t come out an elderly gentleman’s mouth).

Finally the manager gives up and insists that she can not enter the numbers into the machine rather than swiping it. At this point, much of the lunch crowd is thinking: “boy, this lunch is more entertaining than normal” since there is no hiding what has been going on. Really sweating and feeling very desperate, I suggest the only option: hold my food order ’til I can return with money.

Jog-hop-limp the 3 blocks back to CC. I arrive to see David enjoying a tasty meal and my meal growing cold in front of my spot. I check my jacket. Yes! The money is in it. Good! You got to see the good at moments like this. I sit down and half eat my meal as we have now been gone for a long time. David, the gentleman — not to be confused with earlier elderly gentleman — offers to pay for my lunch. Great! Things are looking up! In a fit of generosity, David offers me his bike. Things are better and better!

However, it take David 2 tries to get his bike key off of his (rather large (!) key ring). Finally he gives up and gives me the whole set. It takes me a minute to unlock his bike lock and then I can not figure out where the lock goes. The lock holder doesn’t seem to like the lock. I’m stumped. I think of throwing the lock into the middle of the street hoping a big truck comes along to destroy it. David comes out (from his leisurely lunch, I think darkly) and snatches the lock out of my hand and explains as one would to a child that the lock is bungee corded down to the rat-trap. Of course! How did I not see that (I think sarcastically)! But then I get the last laugh! Ha! David can’t get his lock to lock. (David was channeling Paul at this point I am convinced.) Finally the lock is locked and bungeed down and I am up on his bike picking up speed as I race to TH. Oh oh, I forgot about the non-existent sidewalk. I slow down to avoid the boulders but mistakenly go a little too slow so I lose maneuverability and ride over a smallish boulder.

SNAP.

What the hell was that? The pedals stop moving and as I dismount in confusion I realize that the extra bungee cord not being used to hold down the lock has wound itself around the back tire and gear area! ARRRRGGGGG! Oh, and to top it off the bungee hook has wedged itself into the spokes and is strangling the wheel so that I can’t release the pressure on the cord.

Fuck, fuck fuck fuck fuck I am muttering (well muttering is not really the right word; it’s more like a contained yell) only to look up at a shadow passing by to realize it is a mother with a young child in a stroller. Oops!

After playing around with the wheel, spokes and cord for 5 minutes or so, I finally untangle the cord. Praying to Ogopogo, I test the wheel and everything seems to be working. Back up on the bike and off to TH. The rest is somewhat anticlimactic as it goes smoothly. Nervously riding back to the studio, though, I check over my shoulder for cars, dogs, bikes, raccoons, birds, whatever because I do not trust this day to end without my visiting the hospital.

Now, as I said from at the start: I’m not into ‘Method’ much. After this day I’ll be happy to stay distant from it for a long time.

- Roger