by Jack Anderson
You’ve got a chance at a job and you’re just reading the script—maybe for the second or third time. You’re preparing yourself for the crucial meeting with the director and maybe the producer.
Now might be a good time to bring up a piece of vital advice: Never Say No.
I don’t care how outlandish any idea they have for their movie, here’s your response: “That’s great!”
Of course, you may at some point realize that the director’s plan to recreate the Battle of Gettysburg in real time is impractical. But don’t be negative. When someone asks you if you can do it, or if the time and money allotted are enough, say, “Sure.” Don’t elaborate. Don’t promise the moon and the stars when you’re unsure about delivering some sequins. But always be positive. The chances to say no or to be negative or simply to be realistic crop up all the time, starting from your first job interview. Deflect the question, “How are you going to do it?” with pleasantries and, “I’m sure it’ll work out.” Remember, the director wants what he or she wants, and the producer wants what he or she wants, and they’re determined to get it. Don’t throw a monkey wrench into their beautiful dreams.
I once interviewed for a job on what was described by the director as a “lesbian musical.” (I’m not making this up.) During our first interview, he and the producer looked at my reel, talked about the business in general, and asked me some questions about how I would go about shooting the film. The interview lasted an hour, which is a long time.
Usually I’m in and out in ten minutes, even if they like me. It was obvious that I had impressed them favorably. They gave me the script, and the director asked me to set up another interview in a week. At this point I was feeling pretty good. I read the script a few times, got a sense of how it could look, and prepared for the next meeting.
Now, I knew that the budget was around $150,000, which wasn’t much even fifteen years ago. I was set to shoot another feature soon, a romantic comedy; the budget for that one was $300,000, and we were scrambling to find ways to do a professional job on that one for so little money. And the comedy didn’t involve sixteen musical numbers, some with up to twenty cast members. But I knew that I could get good production value and a good look without a big budget, so I went into the interview optimistic.
Again, we had a terrific time. We were becoming friends, and we were talking about shooting scenes as though I had the job. Then came the question: “If there’s anything in the script that you think could cause us trouble, what would it be?”
Oh my god. I was not so green that I jumped on this: “Well, trying to do a big musical for a budget that’s too small for a music video might be a problem.” No, I said, “I think it’s a great script, and we’ll make at terrific movie out of it.”
The director persisted. “No, really be honest with me. I know there’s always something. I really want to be on an honest footing. We’ve got to trust each other if we’re going to work together. So really, what do you see that might be a problem?”
Oh boy. Here’s a freight train barreling toward me, and I looked straight into the bright light. I decided to be truthful. I said something like, “Well, it might be kind of hard work to shoot this one music-and-dance number with twenty cowgirls in a western town, complete with a gunfight, in a twelve-hour day.”
Jeez, I almost got frostbite, the atmosphere chilled so fast. You may have guessed that I did not get hired. In an odd development, I met the director a few months later and he invited me to his premiere. I went. I saw. Oh my god. The guy they hired had gotten a cardboard drawing of a western street—it would have looked bad on a theatre stage—and he photographed the number in one shot. Well, that’s one way of doing it. I would have been unhappy to do that, but I could have had a job and some much-needed cash. But no, I had to be honorable.
So don’t do it. Stay positive. Always be a cheerleader for the film. Sure, they’re dreaming. So is everyone who ever wanted to make a film. And you never know—they may figure out how to do it. Or they may get more money. Or things may change. You don’t know everything, and you can’t control everything. So be that upbeat guy they want on their picture, and never say no.
Jack Anderson is a thirty-year Hollywood veteran. He was DP for “Always Say Goodbye,” first-prize winner at the First Hollywood Film Festival. He did second-unit DP on “Hook,” “Noises Off,” and “Mad About You.” Short films he shot won prizes at the Los Angeles Short Film Festival, Waterfront Film Festival (Muskegon), and Fort Lauderdale International Film Festival. His new book, “Shooting Movies Without Shooting Yourself in the Foot,” is published by Focal Press.
