Behind the Scenery

Well before most crew set foot on a shoot, the construction department has put in hard yards setting the scene with details large and small. **Margo White **investigates.

“It’s an odd part of the [screen production] industry,” says set builder Steve Wilson. “We’re kind of separated from everyone else. I don’t tend to go to wrap parties, because you don’t know anyone there.”

Steve has been a set construction carpenter since 1980, initially for TVNZ but mostly as a self-employed chippie working in the screen industry, on feature films, television, and advertising.

He says set builders are one of the least visible parts of the industry. “It comes through with the way we’re sometimes treated… you’ll get people coming in and doing a walk-around and they just don’t see you, they think you’re a builder. They don’t realize it’s a specialized job.”

It can be easy to turn up on a set and not give too much thought to how it got there. Well, you might marvel at the Vietnamese village that has suddenly popped up on a beach in West Auckland (always a challenging environment in which to build a village) but there are many less look-at-me tricks to the set construction trade. The job might require removing the interior walls of an existing house, and replacing them with new, movable walls that allow the director to get a specific shot that wouldn’t normally be possible in a small room. It might involve building a barn that (as in Toyota Hilux’s famous “Bulls Hit” TVC) can be made to collapse all at once, after a vehicle has driven through it.

Theoretically, any builder could construct a set, but a set is not just about the construction. Steve points out “It’s how it gets built, how long it takes, it’s the amount of effort, and it’s knowing short cuts that are still safe.”

Working in the set construction business has all the pros and cons that come with the film industry; there’s the fun, the novelty, the team spirit (mostly), the travel, you might get fed (unless the catering is limited to shoot days, in which case construction misses out), and quite often there is relatively good money to be made.

But what actually is a pro and what is a con can depend on who you talk to. Take, for instance, those long hours. “A ten-and-three-quarter day is standard in this industry,” says construction manager Graham Collins, who has worked in it for almost two decades. “But that’s what attracts people; the extra hours mean you can earn a bit more money.”

Last year, for instance, he constructed a Russian gulag in Queenstown for Nippon Television, a contract that involved two months work, seven-day weeks and 12-hour days. “It’s probably not the sort of thing the Blue Book wants to hear about but it’s all up to individual negotiation,” he says. “The deal is put on the table, so it’s up to you whether you take it or leave it. When you are trying to pay your house off, working solidly for two months is not a bad way to do it.”

Steve, however, is less enthusiastic. “Yeah, and you’d probably be dead at the end of it. I believe in living as well.”

“I don’t like working any more than ten hours,” he adds. “When you’re on tools that’s plenty long enough. The last thing you want to do when you’re tired is handle machinery. As Grant Bailey (see profile on page 10) notes, the fact that New Zealand builders will put in long hours is one of several reasons production companies are attracted to this country. “Well, in Oz they work eight hour days and we work ten hour days. Then there’s the exchange rate. And I’ve just done this Canadian ad… they said they came here because the infrastructure is so good.”

“Our strength is just getting on and doing it. It’s a cliché, but it is a great New Zealand quality.”

And then there’s the land itself. “There’s such a diversity of landscapes, but it’s a small country and they’re all quite close to each other. You can do a beach, a mountain, a lake, all in three days, with just a bit of driving.”

Grant laughs. “Plus, agencies overseas just want to come to New Zealand. Why wouldn’t you? A Canadian winter versus a couple of weeks of summer in New Zealand?”

As everyone knows, the screen industry is notoriously fickle. “I’m one of the lucky ones who have been able to earn a living from it,” says Steve, pointing out that many new builders were employed to construct sets on Narnia, including many who had never worked in the industry before. “And they all thought, ‘wow this is a great way to earn money’ but out of those 50 new ones there are probably only five left, because they were able to hang on for the dry times.”

Dry times are part of the business. Steve says he has a group of contacts that get him through, people who will employ him to do small landscaping or carpentry jobs. “But I don’t take on anything too big, and it’s always on the understanding that I could get a phone call tonight and start work on a ten-day commercial tomorrow.” More recently, in the wake of a six-month dry patch, he’s started working as a tour guide, “escorting American tourists around New Zealand”.

Grant, in keeping with his earlier years, has always maintained a practice designing and making objects and designing spaces outside of the film industry. He adds that “without some sound stages [the local industry] will always be limited.”

When NZTECHO caught up with Graham he was building a new set for Shortland Street, the long-running soap that gave his first break into the set construction business 20 years ago, and has been a regular source of income ever since. “I still do a lot of maintenance on these sets,” he says. “Obviously having been involved for 19 years, I know my way around a few things.”

In the past Graham would return to general construction to fill the void, although these days he says that he has enough networks and the industry has expanded to such an extent that the work is reasonably regular. Like Steve, he will also do the odd building job for friends and acquaintances. “But once you start doing too much of that your ACC rates start to change and that confuses IRD… and they always win.” These days he’d rather spend his down-time working on his own house, or surfing.

And if things are really quiet and a job comes up that is interesting enough, he might be flexible with his rates. “If the budget is low and there’s no work going you drop your rate just to keep working. I’m never too shy.” he says. “You can sort of have it as you like.”

Graham says rates have improved gradually over 20 years in the business, generally keeping pace with inflation, although Steve reckons that rates for a builder have dropped in recent years, with hourly rates reducing by around 10% at the top and bottom of the range. “Many would prefer to employ five guys at [a lower hourly rate] than four guys [at a higher rate] …because it looks better on paper.”

Grant hasn’t seen rates move much in his time building sets for the television commercial sector, “generally the budgets are a bit tighter than two or three years ago” he says.

All those interviewed for the story agreed that getting work in the film industry is based around networks and relationships – between art directors and construction managers, between construction managers and builders. The challenge is juggling the relationships, finding the right balance between loyalty and exclusivity.

“That goes as much for the construction manager as it does for the carpenter,” says Steve. “I worked with a construction manager for a number of years, but then he fell out of favour with different designers until there was no work… that taught me a lesson; never stick to one guy.”

But you don’t want to spread yourself too thinly, either. “Say ‘no’ to two jobs in a row and you get bumped down the list… construction managers will always remain loyal to the last person that worked for them.”

The same goes for construction managers. “You only need one or two art directors calling you up for work,” says Graham.

And of course it is wise for the construction manager to keep on side with the art/production design team, and not take it personally if he or she should decide that the set, or the location, isn’t as they envisaged and the whole thing needs to be re-done to the immovable deadline. “The shooting crew are still booked to film and they never get put back, so you still have to do it on time,” says Graham. “Even if that means bringing in extra staff and working through the night.”

There’s no point in arguing. “If it doesn’t fit what the designer had in mind, he’ll want you to change it. It’s their vision, so you just go with the flow. It might take two or three attempts to get it right, but you’re still getting paid. At the end of the day if the designer is happy you should be happy.”

One of the benefits of working in set construction rather than general construction is that much of the time they are likely to be working inside in a studio, where it will be dry, sheltered, possibly even warm. In general construction, a chippie’s work can easily be held up by wet weather, for which there will be no financial compensation. But of course, it’s not always the case. The construction work environment can go from “mid-winter, minus 16 degrees, in a blizzard with zero visibility” to “Rarotonga in 35-degree heat” says Graham.

It’s a job that requires hard graft, long hours, the burning of midnight oil… all for a temporary structure that may feature in a few fleeting moments of footage. “On Vertical Limit we spent two months building a set on a mountain, going up by helicopter to Turret Head, 20 guys a day working for two months,” recalls Graham. “Then the shooting crew arrives for few days, and they maybe used five seconds of footage.”

Isn’t that soul-destroying? “Nah,” says Graham. “You get used to it. On_ The Last Samurai_ we spent months building [this Japanese village] but most of it was shot at night, so you don’t see a great deal, not much more than a few rooftops. That’s just the way it is in the film game.”

“They’re all fun,” he says. “If you can’t have fun in this sort of work you’re in the wrong game.”

And while Steve is now moving to work part-time for the industry, he shares the sentiment. “It has been a great ride for me. Wouldn’t have had it any other way.”

Thanks to Grant Bailey and Graham Collins for photos.