The Redneck Mafia
Last Sunday, I was trying to collect myself as I prepared to leave for middle-America on a casting excursion for my boss’ feature.
I had an inordinate amount of anxiety– enough that it was quite out of character for me. But I had every reason: the wireless mics I got us didn’t end up working, I left for the airport with the OVEN on (and Boris did not wake up when I called repeatedly), and even though I got there early, I missed my flight as I was sitting right there at the gate.
Keep in mind there were three planes leaving from the same door and they announced the ultimate destination, not mine. Further, they left fifteen minutes early, just as I was getting suspicious as to why they were not boarding yet. And they left without all the passengers. I’m justifying my idiotic mistake even more by saying that Mr. Mullier from Morocco also missed it. Clearly, I’m not the only one who’s retarded… But I know I am regardless of this sole incident.
My cell phone was running out of juice and of course the charger was in the checked baggage. I called the casting assistant and let him know I wasn’t arriving when I said I was. He was going to tell my boss there was a delay, but she spazzed out and thought that I may have checked the camera and didn’t want it going around on the carousel with no one to claim it. I had turned off my phone to save juice, so when they didn’t hear from me they jumped in the car and rushed to the airport.
I, per common sense and Fordham’s direct order, did NOT check the camera. Only my back pack with all my clothes, light stand, tri-pod, cables, and sound equipment were checked and arrived on the flight I was supposed to be on. My boss pulled my bag, rifled through it- underwear flying everywhere- and took all the equipment. Then they thought it cute to write me a note so I could find it later.
When I finally got there, I knew it was probably at the desk and not on the flight, obviously. The Delta guy, not much different from the guy in Fight Club who discussed “throwers” with Ed Norton’s character, was like, “Yeah, some lady brought me your bag earlier”. I said, “What lady??”. He said, “She was here to pick you up”. Interesting. I asked the casting guy why they came earlier and he tried to lie but the Delta guy sold him out already. He confessed they went through my shit and took the equipment. WHAT?! I guess I don’t mind that these people saw my underwear; we’re all friends after all… but geezus. Talk about airport security.
… 12 heart attacks later …
The most bizarre part of the trip, though, is that poor little casting guy, a filmmaker in his own right, was accused of asking this “jail bait” (I use quotes because the school board lady referred to a “blonde girl” as such) if she wanted to have a “long casting session later tonight”. It’s so ludicrous– so fuct on so many levels:
1). He is super nice and super cool. If anyone is a pervy jerk off it’s the psycho making this shit up– another board member that wore overalls and wandered around the casting like a “special” construction worker they gave a job to out of charity. The previous week, he had accused the casting director of being in soft core porns, so we were quite curious to meet him in person.
2). The scenario that this guy made up was completely impossible… as in, it wouldn’t/couldn’t have happened. We categorically deny everything they claim that the casting guy did. Period.
Anyway, the high school is totally embarrassed at how these people on the board are acting and don’t want it to reflect badly on them. These two board members call themselves “back to basics,” for crying out loud. The superintendent has been having problems with them since he was principal– A guy who wants to bring cool, innovative stuff to the kids.
We’ve concluded they are freaks with no children or are simply living their disgusting fantasies through innocent the casting guy, who, incidentally, I called George (not his name!) for three weeks.
Anyway, because I’m new at casting and documentaries and working on real life movies with a budget, I keep doing silly things like tell the gossipy secretary where we are staying. I guess I didn’t think about it, but I suppose it’s good to keep something like our hotel a secret.
Also, I tend to talk to people and they spill their guts for whatever reason– Like, I’ll call an 800# to order computer parts and the next thing I know the man lost his entire family in a church fire when he was younger. Stuff like that. So doing this now, with these kids, is bad. I’m supposed to play dumb, not relate, and it’s hard. But I want to do a good job, so I keep it short and vague. Very difficult.
Overall the whole thing was a great experience. We met a few gems who will unfortunately never make it to the big screen thanks to their oppressive overseers. My boss and I came back on the same flights and as we waited to board, as an experiment, she watched me space and almost miss the flight AGAIN. I’m too A.D.D. Way too A.D.D.