I’m no fan of Midtown. Anywhere south of Union Square – great. Brooklyn – obviously, the outer boroughs are alright by me. Yes, I’m a cliche. I went to film school – cliches are kinda my thing.
Yet some of the funniest and most memorable days on set were when we were shooting in Midtown – be it in a tiny, tiny, tiny office (opposite Macys) whose owner didn’t realize that “Quiet on set!” means quiet. On set. Or at the wonderful Stonestreet Studios where the crew got a convoluted crash course in Viewpoints courtesy of the indefatigable Angela Gulner (“Where is my poniard? Here is thy PONIARD!”). Or discovering that the best way to shoot on a busy Fifth Avenue at lunchtime was to let the actors shoot themselves and just run with it (pun intended).
But before I ramble on for too long, I’ll let the one and only Lipica Shah tell you all about it.
You Want Me To Do Wha…?
Pre "Action!" The quietest moment on set. Even quieter than room tone, yessir.
There we stand: five twenty-somethings on a busy Manhattan street at lunchtime under a cloudless sky. In some circles we might be called “those meddling kids.” And with our loud clothes, even louder whooping, and complete disregard for the cityfolk around us, I can certainly see why one might think so. Well… all except for me. I’m the plain one, accustomed to being an unassuming presence as I walk down the street, not the epicenter of this spectacle.
Diya, how the hell did you get here?
“CUT!”
While the energy is still high, we five (no longer in character; we’re now just actors trying not to get hit by taxis, strollers, that lady’s enormous purse as we cross Fifth Avenue) rush back to our starting position. We giggle like maniacs as we review the footage – the screen is too small for all of us to see but we make it work somehow – I’m fairly certain Jabari carried Angela, piggy-back style.
Our goal for this next half hour or so is to film Scene 68, or what the cast and crew quickly came to call the “Post-Emancipation Scene.” Without saying much, I can say that this is the scene where Jules, Walt, Chris, and Teeny are confronted with a Diya they have not yet met. This Diya is lost without her usual chains, and she’s grasping for something tangible to hang on to. When she turns to the people around her, these new “friends” – people who cannot see the enormity of their actions – she doesn’t know what to do.
And by the way… We are shooting this scene entirely on our own. Yes, Bornila waits for us at the starting point to review the footage, make sure we captured the necessary elements, and provide ever-insightful feedback and guidance for the next take. But in between “Action!” and “Cut!” it is just us five and the small handheld camera that serves as Jules’ security blanket throughout the film. *gulp*
It is Day Two of production for Oh, Sophia, and our introduction – “crash course” is more like it – to guerilla filmmaking.
I was terrified of the prospect beforehand (“what if…I forget my line/get stuck at the corner/that dog bites me?” I could go on), but it turned out to be one of my favorite days on set. I mean, it was FREEING. It’s one thing to let go of yourself for a role; it’s another thing entirely to let go of the people on set and trust that you, yourself, are enough. I’d been reading and re-reading versions of the Oh, Sophia script for two years, but it wasn’t until this moment that I realized Diya lived in me.
It sounds like cheesy actor-speak, but for me, the guerilla-style filming of Scene 68 forced me to let go of my inhibitions and inhabit Diya in a way I hadn’t before. There were no rules. It was OKAY if we messed up a word – we knew our characters enough to know what they would say instead. It was OKAY to interact with the environment around us – normal people don’t barrel through a crowd; we might say “excuse me.” It was OKAY if passersby gawked at the camera – wouldn’t you stare at five twenty-somethings causing a scene in the middle of a busy street?
Over the 21 days of filming Oh, Sophia, we turned often to our guerilla beginnings: on subway platforms, in subway cars, and on the streets of Bushwick, in the dark early morning hours or under fluorescent lights that cast a greenish hue. Sometimes the crew would watch from across the street and sometimes we would be let loose on our own. We trusted each other to do our work. Bornila trusted us to just be.
Oh, and in case you’re wondering – yes, there were dogs. Several dogs, in fact. Eli just has this way with animals! So we did what any other actor would do: We used it.
“OMG that was AMAZING!! PLEASE tell me we got the dog in the shot!!!!”
“We got the dog in the shot.”
Five meddling kids… and that dog, too. Look for it when the movie’s out.
Tags: guerrilla filmmaking, Lipica Shah
