Wednesday, July 28, 2010

Life Lessons in Towing a Trailer

I've just put my Hummer H3T Alpha in the shop to be checked for damage after a sequence of events that not only perhaps damaged my truck but also left me creatively barren for a few days. Here, at Weseloh Chevrolet and Hummer, I have time to reflect. And thanks to my mini-iPad (the iPhone), I can bang out this muse.

It all began exactly a week ago when I went (with family in tow) to U-haul to square away our trailer order for the move out of the Albuquerque office/apartment some two days away. We were assured that everything was good to go with the exception of the hitch ball kit for the drop bar (part 4944). This was no big deal since that part and kit would be in on the day we took delivery of the trailer. During this time the kids were clearing out the free doughnuts that where sitting out. Great.

After packing up what was to be a 3 year stay in a studio apartment and edit suite, my son and I went to U-haul to retrieve the 12' trailer. To my un-surprise (I'm cautiously pessimistic at all times), part/kit 4944 wasn't in. We were again assured this was no problem since they have all the parts needed around the shop. (Where are those dang doughnuts?) So after some paperwork with the new guy (he's obviously a newbie because everything is taking FOREVER at this point), we go out to get hooked up.

I worked with a film director once that always insisted that people should "triple check everything!" Well, I'm not a trailer expert, so I couldn't check the new guy's hookup ability (not even once), but I'm pretty sure the nut on the hitch ball needs to be cranked with a wrench, right? I asked him this, and the reply: "Nope, hand-tight is good enough!" Assuming the guy had all the proper training, I said, "Okay!" pessimistically and doubtfully, of course.

Is it the customers responsibility to check the service providers' work? Does the lack of proper training or retention fall on the customer? I went to the experts to get "hooked up". They know (or should know) this business, not me. Right?

As someone who structures teams, consults and advises, I come from the mindset of letting the trained experts do their art and get out of the way. Yes, art, not part. When does one draw the line and say, "hold on, dude, that's all wrong"?  When common sense prevails, perhaps. I was pondering this as the various safety chains were wrangled around. Fortunately, just then, a weathered, seemingly more experienced worker came over and looked at the hookery. I was relieved.

In reflection, the seasoned pro just "looked" at the hook-up. There was no checking and inspection. For me, the customer and trailer idiot, I was relieved. There is a difference between "looking" and "checking". Although relived, I did want a third opinion, but how rude and demanding is that? They are the experts after all. Right?

We loaded up and bittersweetly left Albuquerque pulling a trailer that made the H3T Alpha drive oh so crappy. Finally, in a blinding rainstorm, we couldn't take it any longer and stopped at a TA Travel Center in Galllup, New Mexico to check the ball and chain(s).

What was it that film director Nat Christian always said? Oh yeah, triple check. Well; cuss, this thing was only "checked" twice and now the nut is all loose and about to fall off because there's no cotter pin to keep it on. What!? No pin.

Was I relying too heavily on U-haul in Albuquerque being the experts? Yes, now it's apparent. The customer is always right, even if they are clueless.

A mechanic named Gilbert at the TA loaned me this giant wrench and another gentleman in overalls gave me a cotter pin. In the downpour in a t-shirt and board shorts I cranked the nut, showing no mercy and inserted the safety pin. Cool. No, cold and wet. I was soaked. I probably looked like a surfer-mechanic; no, just a maniac walking back into the TA with that giant wrench.

On a side note, while pulling out of the TA parking lot, we circumnavigated two locals that were in a fist-fight. One of them had rocks in his hands. Looks like they could use a little brushing up on their emotional intelligence. Anyway, the drive was better; but not great. About one-hundred miles later the trailer began to jerk the Hummer around again. Nothing a little high-4 lock couldn't fix. That'll show that trailer who's boss. And it did.

We were close to Winslow, Arizona, so we stopped at the independent U-haul operation there (there's only one). It wasn't clean. It wasn't branded. It wasn't commercial AT ALL. As the stereotypical greasy-mechanic-in-overalls approached, he exclaimed, "Who the hell connected this thing!?... they didn't know nothin' 'bout no trailers." Seriously, I'm not making this up. Well okay, here's my official triple check right now.

While chains were re-routed and things were tightened, I learned that this kid's name was Chance. He'd been working with his grandparents on "hitches and trailers and so forth" since he was "'bout ten". I figure he had around 20+ year's worth of trailer hookup experience.

Out of the three chains (two safety and one brake) that connect to the tow vehicle from the trailer, all three were wrong according to Chance. He did all he could do without us unloading the gear (I like to call everything gear since I've dealt with camera and lighting gear all my life). I was not "'bout" to unload all that gear! He said the drive would be much better now that the brake chain was positioned and set properly but that I should tighten that hitch ball nut regularly.

We got back on the road and the Hummer no longer needed to be in high-4 lock. The trailer has submitted. Thank you Jesus for Chance. And Gilbert, too. And for the fact that this crazy trailer never broke loose and careened down the highway like headless chicken spewing our gear all over I-40 like a really nasty larger-than-life road kill.

Standby…

I'm back at the desk now after a nauseating ride in a shuttle van. Writing style may change because I can now type like the wind. You may want to read faster for effect…

Things were fine after Winslow, although we had to drive 55 and be passed BY EVERY SINGLE VEHICLE ON THE ROADWAY. Above double-nickle, the trailer would fishtail and loosen the hitch ball. Then I would have to go borrow a giant wrench and perhaps come in close proximity to more fighty locals. I digress… Things were fine until we crossed into California. California, home to the most deplorable highways in the country. I believe the settlers in covered wagons may have had a smoother ride than you can today in a sedan on a California interstate. Seriously, I-40 between the state line and the checkpoint is a joke. I believe there are weeds growing up through the center stripe. Hey California, FIX YOUR INFRASTRUCTURE! It's bad for business, vehicles and peoples' necks.

So needless to say, the trailer was drug by the Hummer in high-4 lock until again, it was so bad I thought the rear axle was going to be jerked out from under us. This was in Moreno Valley. We stopped at a strip mall and I went around asking strangers for a giant wrench… (the store there didn't have one big enough). Once again, the Lord provided and an awesome Cal-Fire support truck pulled up next to our defunct rig. They weren't there to help, just to go eat at the taco shop. Jen, my wife, didn't let the opportunity go to waste. She ran in front of them in her flip-flops and asked if they had a giant wrench. Keep in mind, if you ever ask the fire department for a giant wrench, they will deliver.

Hungry for tacos, Cal-Fire accesses the situation
Thank you Cal-Fire dudes in Moreno Valley for tightening our hitch ball and not going to eat tacos right away. Ironically, the Captain's name was Gilbert. That's the second Gilbert that cared to help in this endeavor. There's got to be Biblical symbolism in there somewhere.

Things were really, for the most part, uneventful the last two hours of the ride. We had some military dudes unload the trailer. They were cool. Then I returned that ridiculous thing to U-haul in Oceanside, CA. Now, what do you think the U-haul dude said to me?

"Tell me about the problems you had." WHAT?! How did he know? I hadn't blogged, tweeted or facebooked about this yet. So I asked him how he knew. He said that he could see that the ball was installed incorrectly on the drop bar. There's this stupid little ring thingy that's supposed to pop off when tightened sufficiently. The cotter pin was not the standard type, (because it was from TA in Gallup, New Mexico), and he could see that the liquid weld wasn't applied to the bolt. I had no idea there was supposed to be liquid weld. Did that newbie dude in Albuquerque and his weathered counterpart know this? "Because the hitch ball was floppy, it continuously activated the brake assist on the trailer." This I knew, because it was common sense, but once that trailer was hooked up, that ball could never get as tight as it needed to be, even with the industrial strength might of Cal-Fire.

Where's the life lesson in all of this? Read slower now.

People come in all varieties. That's mostly not news. Some, you have to oversee more than others. Some are more cognizant than others. Some are more emotionally intelligent than others. It's up to each of us to know when to speak up and how, and when to shut up and get out of the way. This entire event, I believe, was a test of my emotional intelligence- right down to the hour-long wait at the dealership then the nauseating ride home just now. Each time in all of this when I felt helpless and frustrated, I forced those feelings and knee-jerk reactions into rational thought. This results in less stress and an optimum solution given the circumstances. What's more, I didn't look like a jerk with the "why me, why now attitude". Maybe that's good on TV, but not in real life.

It was also a test of faith. My wife and I had faith that nothing terrible would happen. We believed it. And at each stress pinnacle, a Gilbert was there to help out. Surely, had I just had the knowledge and authority to not allow the initial poor install to happen, none of this would have happened and this writing (hopefully helpful to someone) would not exist. Everything happens for a reason, it's all connected, seriously.

BTW, just got the call from the dealership: no problems with the Hummer. Now that's a tough truck.





the kids and me celebrating the fact that we're home
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Monday, July 5, 2010

Having your DP do the Story Edit? Think Again.

   First let me say that having a Director of Photography on your team that can picture cut is a wonderful thing. This makes them a better storyteller with what they’re passionate about (hopefully): that is telling a story visually, thinking sequentially and thinking ahead.

Now more often than not (in guerilla reality, documentary and corporate production), I see situations where the DP (staff or contract) is asked, required (or wants) to story cut a project. I don’t think this is a budgeting thing as much as it is a misnomer that has escalated over the last few years as technology has progressed making specialized tools of the trade more affordable to everyone in the industry.

It’s not my intent here to get creative contractors all riled up by suggesting they forfeit a revenue stream. Nor am I trying to suggest that a staff DP or editor isn't up to the task.

What I want to do is address a workflow that in the corporate setting is almost always somewhat broken. And this broken workflow affects how the team interacts internally and externally, their satisfaction of work performed and the quality of the product.


Let’s cut to the chase (pardon the cliché)…
In a story cut, the editor and director (sometimes one and the same) are focused solely on matching the story to the best takes available, nothing else. Assuming any technical issues are fixable, all takes and clips are fair game. Story comes first. That’s it.

Being a picture-cutting DP myself on occasion, I can say first hand that it is extremely difficult, if not impossible, to separate story from that great irrelevant, random B shot sequence you may have captured. A DP cutting story will tend to force these great shots and sequences in at the story level- whether they’re needed or not. So then what you get is a storyline that may drift and could be remotely confusing- but hey, that great sequence is in there. And that’s a good thing right?

It’s never a good thing to confuse the audience at the story level. The best cinematography possible simply isn’t going to save a wondering storyline.


Where I’m coming from…
The first real story edit I did was in 2006 for director David Gibbons cutting footage shot by college students to create a feature-length documentary— a project called “14 Days in Great Britain”. Now, since I hadn’t shot a single frame of this footage, it was all fair game and I was totally unbiased. I focused solely on story flow, sequiter soundbites and nothing else. This footage was not fully logged and what was (by the DP), focused pretty much exclusively on the best B roll they’d shot. No one had transcribed the interviews, so it was up to me to find the story, where really, at that point, no obvious flow existed. How I found this flow is the topic of another discussion. (Ping me and I’ll write it up.)

Bottomline, Gibbons had only 3 minor content changes in the entire 86 minute piece because the story was so focused, direct and understandable. About 7 weeks after I started the project, the piece premiered in the UK at a number of venues including BAFTA. The workflow was simple: storycut> picture cut & postscore> final mix & color grade> master. This operation happened smoothly and swiftly. The director allowed me (the editor) to work in my sweet spot and as team leader, I was the only person who interacted with my assistant, the composer and the sound mixer. Communication was direct and effective. The project's DP had done his job and had moved on to other work.


Before we go too far…
Whilst speaking of the UK, I’d like to mention that HD DSLR guru Philip Bloom has got to be one of the premier digital media DPs out there today. And the speed at which he is able to post his completed shorts online is simply astounding. Without fail, when you watch his work you will be mesmerized by the picture. Now, what did I just keystroke?... “…mesmerized by the picture.” When I watch his work, that’s all I think about: nice, nice, beautiful, well-composed shots. But what about story? Yes, it’s there in his work, but because he’s cutting it himself, he’s going to give us the best shots in the bin; that’s his priority, story is second. With a great DP doing your story cut, it simply always will be in my opinion.

Now this isn’t to say that Bloom or anyone else at his level can’t wear the director’s hat and focus on story. They are totally capable if they have the passion AND the ability to allow their hired DP to work without micromanagement in the field and a trusted editor that gets the same freedom in the edit suite. And I don’t mean a free-for-all; just proper direction, communication, governance and workflow.


An obvious summation…
If the Director is DP, then the story cut will most likely be driven by picture. IF the DP and director are two distinct individuals, then there’s simply going to be some tension and hurt feelings (creatives tend to be low EQ) between what each feels motivates story (picture or script). And since the director should prevail (because story comes first), it’s the DP that could be disappointed at the end of the day.


So, back to the topic at hand…
Where should your FCP-on-an-MBP-wielding DP fit in after the shoot? Two words: color grading. Once your story cut is solid and picture is locked, if your DP is capable and has a great ocular palate, then allow your DP to make these (and only these) shots laid out by your story editor beautiful beyond description (staying within the tone and manner of the story as directed, of course). If he/she isn't trained to do this, then by all means they should sit with the colorist and director, learning, observing and contributing.

What this does, and what this article has been about, is ensuring that three key players in media production are in their sweet spots. The DP and editor have freedom and creativity: governed, but not micromanaged by the director. The DP’s job is mostly in the field; the story editor’s job is mostly in the suite. Some collaborative overlap is healthy, but the roles most be clearly defined and each should know their limits.

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