Darkness Falls
Perhaps we started in this business because we saw an escape from our ordinary lives - a bit of stardust and magic …and then, soon to discover, an industry driven by enormous-pressure-stress and long hours and then we’re looking at a new addictive need in our lives where stress-pressure and lack of sleep becomes the new normal – these pressures are now exacerbated by a flood of low budget and high-end productions seducing our collective production capabilities.
When I was a kid, the movies up on the screen were all about a bit of face-slap and ‘frankly, I don’t give a damn’ and lots of dancing and singing; the cowboys ruled the range and the Red-Injuns died so a nation could be built. Westward Ho and circle those wagons – slaughter – we yelled and cheered. Hollywood celebrated this heart-wrenching-violent world with themes of fantasy, with Pirates, Knights and Castles by adding the music and unforgettable tropes steeped in optimism and hope and life, death and love and we bought into it with our affection and longing for more – one week I would go to bed with a toy six-gun and the next with a broken branch as I imagined a pirate sword - through our childish gaze we gave the cultural misappropriation of the Hollywood story little thought.
Just a handful of us in the corner of nowhere aspired to be like they were over where real movies were being made, at Pacific Films we dog-eared every new edition of the American Cinematographer magazine within a day of its arriving. We yearned over that distant land where the dream factory was, and we copied stuff from the production stills into our work and dressed like the crews in the articles. We spoke constantly about how it was done in Hollywood and we swooned over the latest from Pinewood and Shepperton.
We set the traps like any good cargo-cult could as the more ‘business’ savvy lobbied government for tax breaks as we workers looked after the ‘art’ end of it by putting on our best yes-we-can-do-the-work-faces and they came.
Today those Hollywood studios are outdoing each other in a worldwide search for the ‘eye-balls’ across cinema and streaming services and it’s now on us to perform and deliver so they stay – bigger, better… more real, hyper-real – CGI real – details like we’ve never seen – its ruthless-brutal …and I’m bloody addicted to it; I’m addicted to watching it and working in it – it’s a singular thing that can consume who you are, and we affectionately call it ‘the business’ and it’s a world of continuous-ongoing-sustained employment for the anointed.
It’s a business that constantly struggles with the art vs commerce question - the 90’s film business of international co-pros burnt out prolific NZ producer Murray Newey, I reckon it crushed his will.
He struggled with the definition of ‘what success should look like’ which ended with an empty fridge, no food in the cupboards and a massive unpaid bill at the local store. He couldn’t see the temporary nature of the downturn. He thought it was his failure? We thought we were helping, but we failed.
We talk about this thing after the event in a way where the platitudes are even more annoying than the brutal facts. No matter which way you wrestle with this tragedy being a witness to a death has one obvious conclusion: It is permanent. And with a suicide, you never know why.
Yet every time this happens, we promise each other that we’ll do better next time. Murray disguised his anguish with his towering strength and enthusiasm. His unshakable positive outlook… we didn’t suspect a thing.
We’ve actually done pretty well with our internal systems of mates calling mates and second guessing with a well-timed phone call. But it’s that place so dark that sometimes the light has nowhere to be that we don’t understand. It has no real and immediate name, nor does it give even a glimmer of hope; it is despair so deep that death is a preferred option.
We must find a way to talk about this, we’ve got to find a way – let’s face it, this ‘business’ has its downside; suffering under the weight of the hierarchy of power that comes with large investments of other people’s money; flavour of the month and then you find yourself on the outer… then there’s that brutality of freelance - waiting for that f..king phone to ring! Small cog or big cog, fitting in, unwinding, having a few at the end of the day – living from invoice to invoice – feast or famine.
It’s the back end of those big jobs that consume a city. Some jobs last for years… and then they’re gone, and then there is nothing; the self-doubt arrives and the same time the bills start piling up.
Starting every day with a hangover on an ongoing gig that is stretched out to years… never getting close to clocking up enough sleep. Admitting that you fell asleep at the lights on the way home… but only for a second, it was, really, only a second - it’ll be ok, you say as you tell yourself a new version of that half-truth. And meanwhile, it’s the sleep deprivation that will eventually drive you to the edge.
At first, the ways that you modify ‘who you are’ are subtle. Conforming to the hierarchy is part of that. Tribal behaviour and the odd bit of bullying isn’t out of the ordinary. Being seen to be ‘more employable’ than the next person… agreeing to those little bits of bad behaviour by looking away is just the beginning of becoming someone else.
If ever there was an industry that needed a ‘watch list,’ we are the one… but the approach is ‘don’t talk about it’ – this attitude must change – we can make it change!
I have a couple of friends; they are now on the edge of the business (aging will do that). We talk most days. They are now on the edge of the world… on the edge of that drop - I know if I didn’t call, I would lose somebody… somethings just have to be done – while you’re sitting in that traffic jam, how about hitting the call button…
When hopes and dreams wither it doesn’t make a sound; a dream dies in silence and alone. We still don’t talk about this enough, let’s talk about it more.
