Principal photography on ‘The Dead Can’t Dance’ is wrapped!
It is indeed a pleasure to say that. We officially called it yesterday at 5:20 p.m., after we got the last scene out on the road by the windfarm near Beaumont. Again, we were fighting the clock, as Jerod had to shoot a basketball game at 6, but we wouldn’t have it any other way.
It’s been a tremendous journey, through ups and downs, much stress but also much, much joy. It’s an amazing feat that we did it. It took over the course of four months, but we got it. Hallelujah.
I tallied things up. We logged more than 1,000 miles traveling to locations — and that’s probably on the modest side (and that’s not including location scouting), used almost 200 extras and shot 35 hours of footage. Oh, and went through about 10 huge containers of cheese balls (there were always cheese balls on set).
I know I say this a lot, but I simply cannot believe it. And I have my incredible cast and crew to thank for it. They worked through some 16-hour days, troubled locations, frustrating circumstances, failing equipment, little sleep, strenuous action and just about every weather condition imaginable — extreme cold, excessive heat, wind and rain. And it seemed every outdoor shoot was fighting an ever-impending setting sun.
Several times throughout all of it, I kept asking myself, “What have I gotten myself into? Why did I possibly think I could do this?” And yet, somehow, I drudged on.
When I used to run 6 miles a day, I remember being so tired that I just wanted to stop, lay down and curl up. I often felt that way during this shoot. But I kept going another lap on the track, imagining a string attached to my chest, pulling me to the finish line, and I just let my body keep going.
Maybe that’s what I did here. Maybe I didn’t want to let everyone down. Or — most likely — I didn’t want to let myself down.
I really do love filmmaking. It’s certainly a crazy, uncontainable beast. But I love the ride.
I said the other day that I don’t really like rollercoasters anymore. That, I guess, was a complete lie.
Dancing across the finish line,
-r.
Tags: The Dead Can't Dance
