Archive for the ‘production updates’ Category

Hey baby, you won’t believe what I found––

Thursday, March 7th, 2013

It’s a little hard to believe that this weekend will mark almost two years to the day that HorrorCon began principal photography at Monster Mania 17. The Crown Plaza in Cherry Hill, NJ, will be at it again Friday night hosting their 24th convention, and most attendees will be oblivious to the fact that a film crew once showed up and started shooting in the middle of all the noise and chaos. We’ll never forget, of course. I imagine the vendors who let us set up in front of their booths for far too long won’t be forgetting it soon, either.

I find it amusingly poignant that we’re closing in on our self-imposed March 25th deadline by, among other things, digitally removing a visible hotel logo from one of the parking lot signs. It’s as if we’re truly moving on from what was a long, arduous adventure. One that, despite mounting stresses and continuing financial burdens, was deeply rewarding in all the best senses. I’m sure every film production creates a special bond between its cast and crew – it’s like a war in that way – but ours will be especially unique. Giving birth to a film in public is like street performing, flash mobbing, and robbing a bank all at once. All that’s left to do is divvy the loot, and the first part of that process begins the second we add the last name to the credit roll.

I’ve compiled a list of festivals that we’ll be considering in the next couple of weeks. So far we’re up to twenty-four, comprising of events held in the United States, Europe, Canada, and South America. We’re as close as Philadelphia and New York, and as far away as Reykjavik, Iceland, Porto Alegre, Brazil, and Locarno, Sweden.  Although there’s no way we can afford to hit them all, we felt it important to identify those most suitable for the film and go from there. Of course, the more of them you try, the better your chances of being accepted. And being accepted means publicity, something all films desperately need. We have quite the story to tell both on and off the screen, and it’s our goal that we tell it to as many people as we can.

As we whittle down our festival list, we’ll begin to build one for conventions. Touring the film through genre events around the country has always been our number one dream. Sharing it with “the choir” feels right to us, and means we can build a loyal, grass roots following on as many lawns as possible. Of course, we hold out hope that some kind of film/music event can be held at Monster Mania 25 in Cherry Hill. We think it’d be great publicity for everyone involved to screen at “home”, for and amongst the very people who helped make our little movie look bigger than it had a right to be. However, due to Screen Actors Guild contractual obligations, we’re not permitted to charge anyone to see it outside of an AMC theater. This leaves us with only a few options to make back our investment: charge for merchandise and a follow-up Q&A, and/or ask for donations upon leaving the screening. Everyone who manages to secure a ticket will have the option to watch the film and leave without paying, and that’s fine with us. What’s important is that people see it, connect with it, and hopefully spread the word. If only that happens, the film will have a future, and that counts far more than a quick theatrical release without the promotional resources that might generate less-than embarrassing box office numbers.

I’ve written before about various distribution models that are available to low-budget indie films, and we’re looking at them all. As previously mentioned, giving it away and adding a donation method of “repayment” is an option. Renegotiating our contract with SAG to allow us to sell the film on DVD is another. I’m not yet sure what the SAG stipulations are in terms of Video-On-Demand (VOD) and Internet streaming, but it’s perhaps something a distributor can explain to us. We think it’s important to take HorrorCon through as many integral steps and processes as possible so that we do the right thing for this one, and learn for the next one. If we’re lucky and have done our work well, our screening activities will open those doors. At the very least, they might point us in the right direction.

Time to return to our post-production crew of two (next time you watch a film, sit through the entire list of post-production credits; you’l likely check your phone more than once such is the time it takes to list them) and continue our march towards the 25th. The score, done entirely on a single keyboard and the ThumbJam iPhone app, is just about complete. But there’s still a few more logos to remove and a certain Cinematographer’s eye-glasses that were alternately left on and off while acting in one of the scenes. I’m not naming any names, but his initials are Jim Wright.

Oops.

The title of the post refers to the very first line of dialog in the film. We might say the same.

See you in a couple of weeks.

Scott

Ears for Fears

Tuesday, September 4th, 2012

Say what? Exactly. This audio mixing business is dragging, but it’s getting done. And redone, unfortunately. But we can’t say we didn’t know this would happen. Back when the idea for shooting this film in live settings was conceived, we expected some difficult audio challenges. You can’t yell “quiet on the set” when your set is a raging horror convention. The regular sounds of a busy hotel do enough damage, as it is. Loud televisions in the room next door, the tap-tap-tap of renovations and repairs, flocks of south-heading geese; we had our hand’s full, even if those hands were as capable as those belonging to experienced pro Max Kalmanowicz.

Yet, it feels right to be targeting our finish date in October. The colors associated with fall –– mottled greens, golden browns, blackened reds –– match our color palette well. Of course, most horror fans’ favorite holiday caps a glorious end to an already beautiful month. The natural order of things begins ticking to a stop, until the stillness of winter brings short days and long nights. These are perfect conditions to celebrate all things scary. And dammit, we’ll be among those celebrations if we have to work around the clock.

There’s also the matter of our score. If you’ve been following along on our Facebook Page, you will have already learned that the task of making the music to accompany our story has fallen to yours truly. I plan to color in only those shapes that support and highlight the narrative depth, and I’ll be taking my cues from some wonderful artists who have been generous enough to lend us their talents. Among them, The Michael Miller Crusade, Hot as Sun, and most recently, The Mouth of Ghosts. A full-on performance by The Young Werewolves takes the production up to a musical level of which I could never have dreamed. I’m so excited about how this all works together. Now, it’s up to me to link their compositions into a larger statement by weaving a minimalist fabric of shared musical themes sprinkled with some flavor of my own.

Many have asked what our plans are going forward once we’re done. I’m happy to say I’m not sure. Why does that make me happy? It makes me happy because there are so many wonderful new distribution opportunities for indie filmmakers. The traditional route –– if the film is well enough received –– is an exciting one as it injects all of our names into the realm of the industry known. We get theater schedules and press junkets and probably our share of red carpets. While that sounds like a dream, it can come at a high cost. You see, I’m nobody in this industry. I will have to hand over the rights to everything we’ve worked for just to be allowed beyond the velvet rope. Is it worth it in an age of digital distribution? Ten years ago, that answer might have been a different one.

Ten years later, I’m excited about the idea of spreading the film around to festivals and conventions and private screenings. Because I financed the picture against the value of my home, I’m not in a terrible hurry to pay back investors (although there are a few who have it coming). I will never be in a better position to test the waters and learn from my mistakes. Also, HorrorCon is a different animal than most, one that is designed to last and hopefully find its way into the libraries of the genre faithful. Therefore, I’m not overly concerned about being a hit out of the gate. Its time will come, and if I’ve played my hand well, remain. It’s a long love letter to the colorful fringes of popular culture, a place to which, in my own way, I’m proud to belong.

The software is fired up and the headphones are on. Time to isolate the hisses, hiccups and hot spots and seal it all with a wicked kiss. Let the leaves flutter to the ground. I much prefer a mottled green, golden brown and blackened red carpet to any I’ve seen walked by my more accomplished contemporaries. With that, I leave you with our favorite fuzzy trio.

Stay well…

Happy Trailers…

Saturday, January 21st, 2012

With enormous thanks to Pete Yorn, Yellow Horse Productions and Publishing would like to present the long-anticipated teaser trailer set to “Vampyre”. If you like what you see, feel free to visit our HorrorCon Facebook page and “Like” the film. This is the first phase of marketing the project, and the more support we get, the better.

We recommend that you select an HD setting (720, 1080) for viewing. Hope you enjoy.

And, In the End…

Wednesday, December 14th, 2011

…the risks you take, are equal to the film you make. And therein lies the biggest lesson of this entire journey, for me. I’ve learned quite a bit – we all have, I think – but in both creative and practical terms, it bears sharing that the hard way is always the best way. When I think back to why I create, I’m reminded of being a kid and losing myself in the dreamworlds that felt more real than my own. Films, songs, literature; it was always about getting lost in something that held answers in a kaleidoscope of fantasy. And great answers only come from hard questions. Isn’t that why we continue to explore outer space? Aren’t we always in search of a brighter light? Maybe, that’s just me.

Shooting principal photography for HorrorCon was, at times, a painful, grueling slog. It was war, wrought with stress, doubt, panic and pain. On top of all the inherent snafus, I had a pesky, idiot neighbor to deal with, a lawsuit against myself and my business, and the constant threat of disaster caused by delays. I’d been learning about other indie projects that had to put their productions on hold due to season changes, financial woes, and a host of unforeseen calamities (our own Chris Kies was hit by a truck while riding his bike) and the longer these things go, the more fate is tempted. But despite everything, I had the team I needed to get through it, and we have several terabyte drives worth of proof. I have never in my life relied so heavily on the passion and abilities of others, and relinquishing that kind of trust and faith and being rewarded so lavishly is quite a lesson in itself. Sure, it’s a little film by today’s standards, and it will have its blemishes and scars, but it truly lives. It lives because we sacrificed so much, and threw our deepest energies into it at every turn. We gave ourselves no choice, no escape. Every second – every blood cell – counted. No ivory tower sound stage to protect us from the intrusions of the world meant we had to fight for every shot. I may be crazy (by all accounts, I am), but I swear it made all the difference.

And if there was ever an argument for making your own luck, we’ve got several key witnesses to support it.

So where do we go from here? Well, we’ve got it all to do, really. After the holiday break, we’ll be scheduling a looping session to fix up some audio, and there are a couple of small clips to grab at the Yellow Horse studios. It will be wonderful to spend some time with the group again in a more relaxed setting. It’ll probably be very strange to see some of our actors looking very different for the first time in a year, too. In fact, the day we wrapped marked almost one year to the day I first held auditions in Jim Wright’s Brooklyn studio space. Folks, I strongly recommend taking a year out of your life and giving something like this everything you have. Spare nothing and dig deep. You will never, ever regret it.

Once looping is complete, we’ll assemble, have a private screening for our core group, then set up an invite-only screening for some important feedback. The deadline is March 9th. Why, then? Because that’s when the next Monster Mania Horror Convention is being held at our favorite hotel. Won’t it be fun to return to the peeling wallpaper and jaundiced halls that, on occasion, sucked out every ounce of hope we could possibly muster? By then, probably. And to be fair, there’s always a way to get it done. You just write yourself out of a corner and rely on the beautiful, crazy people you hired to make it work.

Speaking of those people, there simply aren’t enough blogs in the world to thank them. I do hope HorrorCon rewards them well into the future, and I plan to do everything in my power to make it a success. There are several options, some of them overlap, and this blog will continue to chart the film’s passage through the tricky waters of post-production and international film distribution. I do see film festivals in our future. That much is certain. And I can imagine offers from distributors, some of which I already have on file. But it really boils down to this: do you sell? If so, how much? Or, do you retain 100% ownership and take it around to the numerous horror conventions on your own, using a multitude of publicity channels to generate a fervor of interest. We’ve got a hell of an independent filmmaking story to tell, and believe me, it will be told and told well.

So, now it’s time to pack away the props, shelve the scripts, and square up any outstanding debts. It might be a good idea to divert interest for awhile, too. Let the New Year ring out, take a deep breath, and go back in with fresh eyes, fresh ears, and a ruthless red pen.

The dream is real, now.

Absolute stars.

In Retrospect…

Monday, December 5th, 2011

…I should probably have kept my mouth shut. We were halfway through “day two” of our weekend shoot, and I felt the need to share how things appeared to be getting easier, making saying goodbye to the hotel, the headaches, and the hurtin’ on my wallet harder to do than I thought. Needless to say, our remaining shots took longer than expected, and there were a few rethinks on set-ups. Worst of all, poor Max had an early call-time the next day and had to grab some Zs while he waited on various costume changes and lighting tests. To his credit, he didn’t snore. To ours, we didn’t stack any random objects on his forehead and take loads of pictures.

All that said, everyone continued their run of outstanding performances, both before and behind the camera. And while finishing in style is our goal, there was something drab about closing room 1243 for the final time. I lost count of the scenes we shot in there – using every angle and piece of furniture to its fullest – and within those peeling, jaundiced walls is really where this film lives. Much like the famed “Room 237” in The Shining, it’s a place of troubling questions and horrifying answers. It’s also a place where Stanley Kubrick’s name was referred to more than once for inspiration; a habit that would spill out into the halls, and all the way down the stairs into the lobby.

A few of us have joked that the Crowne Plaza in Cherry Hill, NJ, has become our home away from home. For me, there’s far more truth than jest in that observation. I’m pretty sure I greet 90% of the staff by their first names these days, and voices raise markedly upon my return. I believe quite a few in our cast and crew enjoy similar relationships with various representatives of the hotel, from housekeeping, to engineering, to the smiling faces at the front desk. Back in March I was sure they would long to see our backs, but now I feel they enjoy our requests for early check-in, extra bell carts, and patience with strange noises and visions. For the most part we leave behind only footprints that are easily vacuumed away. There may have been a couple…scars left behind, as well. At least one we take with us (how’s that hand, Chris?).

Then there were five. Five scenes, two days, one weekend. After, no more “camera up” and “speeding”. Only countless moments of luck, brilliance and bravery forever preserved in a little movie about a little girl who learns that, sometimes, one must spiral downward to be saved.

Date: December 10-11
Place: Crowne Plaza, Cherry Hill, NJ
Call Time:
1 pm
Stills: in the usual place.

Let’s do this.

We’re Descending…

Tuesday, November 22nd, 2011

…on our final approach. This past weekend went exceedingly well, which means our six days are now down to four. My cast and crew may want to kill me for this (or something else, already) but it feels like we’re finally locked in all the way. To be fair, the learning curve was enormously huge and always changing, and the constant threat of coming up short was always there. Not anymore. Of course, conditions were perfect for us to run around and get what we needed as the hotel was, at last, moderately busy. There was only one wedding, by my count, and Philcon 2011 saw a manageable amount of space traveler traffic. Still, to think that most of us hadn’t laid eyes on each other before the first shoot in March is mind-boggling. As it stands, we’re crossing off the shot list with assured and certain speed, and the stuff looks amazing.

Now we break for that big eating and sleeping holiday before we reconvene at our home away from home on the 3rd of December. It’ll be another two-day session, with stuff that requires a little more complexity than last weekend’s material. However, since rewriting a number of scenes to keep us at one location, I reckon we’ve saved ourselves a lot of time and aggravation. I also feel the energy increasing as the light at the end of the tunnel grows larger and more intense, so that’s good. Real, real good.

As always, there are stills on the Facebook Page. You’ll see a couple of new faces in there (stairwell/hotel desk), and I’d like to take this opportunity to thank them for their time, effort and enthusiasm. They did an awesome job.

Date: December 3-4
Place: Crowne Plaza, Cherry Hill, NJ
Call Time: 1 pm

Closer…

The End is Nigh…

Tuesday, November 15th, 2011

…and in this case, that’s a good thing. We’re drawing on what little energy (and money) we have left to finish strongly, and then it’s time to hunker down for a long winter’s edit. We’ve come a long way – beginning our journey back in March – and a final shoot date has been set in early December, a few days before my birthday. That’s going to be some birthday, let me tell you.

For me, this adventure began on August 27, 2006. That’s the date of a draft email I saved about a film or a miniseries that would take place at a horror convention. In it, I’m hashing out characters in search of a story: a poorly aging starlet, a drug-addled child actor, a snobbish ingenue, a horror author widow, and even a pair of slasher fanatic newlyweds who make a plan to kill themselves on the last day of the convention. There was also a version that included a little vampire girl who fed on conventioneers in her father’s bathtub, and masked serial killers who end up stalking each other in order to claim their turf. It’s interesting to explore how far HorrorCon has come in five years, with those earliest images emerging from a black and white fog like monster films from the 50s.

And yet, rewrites continue to happen. Among them, the very first scene of the film – the very first image – has been drastically changed in order to fit it into our time schedule. I’m being truthful when I say I believe the scene is stronger and more memorable, and I’m looking forward to shooting it this weekend. Funny, also, to think how out-of-sequence our shoots have been. It’s a credit to my actors that they’ve managed to adapt so well. It’s a credit to us all that we’ve made it this far. Just a few more days – six, in fact – and we’ll have plenty to show for our collective efforts.

This movie bears little resemblance to the original ideas from which it was adapted, which makes me wonder if the story has grown or simply shifted focus. I can say that I’ve never lost faith in the story as it stands. I believe in what it’s become, and that’s where my energy comes from, flitting from finger to finger across the spiraling, hypnotic universe that is HorrorCon.

Date: November 19-20
Place:
Crowne Plaza, Cherry Hill, NJ.
Call Time: 11 am

See you, there.

The Universe Zigs…

Wednesday, October 19th, 2011

…HorrorCon zags! Goodness, did we have to jump through some hoops to get footage these past two weekends. In no particular order, we were forced to deal with:

Sudden Flocks of Geese
Ill-timed Wind Gusts
Impromptu Wedding Bands
Traveling Swim Teams
Eighteen School Buses
Testy Department of Engineering Heads
Tippy Tappy Renovators
Mid-Afternoon Fire Drills
Intermittent Crotch Rockets
Continuous Airplanes
Shouty Rugby Players
Endlessly Blowing Leaves
Surprise Alarm Clocks
Schizophrenic LED Panels
Powerless Elevators

…and a steady supply of Crowne Plaza Staff Communication Breakdowns. All in all, it cost us approximately three-and-a-half scenes that we won’t be able to recover along with our remaining scenes until early December thanks to some last-minute scheduling conflicts. Do I need to get drunk for the entire month of November? Yes, yes I do.

BUT…despite all of our setbacks, we still do manage to go forward. And I must say, we’re starting to look like we know what we’re doing. The stuff somehow gets better and stays consistent with what we’ve shot since March. The talent is, well, very talented, come to find, and all hands are most definitely on deck. We’re in the fourth quarter and guarding a slender lead. All we need now is to keep focused and tough it out. If suffering the consequences of immense gravity is an indication that we’re destined to make a planet-sized impact, bring on the stupid geese, I say.

Noteworthy amongst our accomplishments was the “band scene” this Sunday past. The venue was astonishingly ideal, The Young Werewolves suave and scintillating in equal measure, and the extras…well, let’s just say I was blown away. About 35-40 of our movie’s closest friends showed up looking fearfully fabulous, and boy did they bring it. We had sexpots, sickos, Superbads and, of course, our always dependable Boardwalk Brawlers. In fact, there was one moment where I afforded myself a few seconds to take it all in.

For the most part, the sight of me during a shoot is one of scowling concentration and furious intensity. There are just so many decisions to be made at once and I’m always trying to think ahead and keep the ship sailing with maximum efficiency. Not only is it a financial issue, it’s a momentum and energy issue, as well. Trade-offs are nonstop, and every second wasted could mean heavy regrets later. Yet, there I was, squatting on the side of the stage ready to restart the music after TYW’s I Can’t Resist ran its course for the tenth time, and it hit me: the enormity of the miracle that was the fantasy before me. Lights were spinning, the band was giving it large for the cameras, and the crowd in front of them were so freaking into it, it was untrue. If every rodeo is like this, get my ass on a bull.

All in all, we stall and crawl, yet we get back up and grab the ball. We’re going to get there, people. And I’ve got a sneaking suspicion that when all is said and done, there will be plenty of taking-in to write about. Oh, yes.

Thank you Team HC, from the cast to the crew to the good people who made Sunday the 16th so special. You are all absolute stars.

As always, Mark Zuckerberg has some stills to share with you.

Another Hurdle…

Monday, September 19th, 2011

…behind us after a weekend at the beach. Cape May Point was as accommodating as we remembered, even if the weather gave us a few scares. But scares are a big part of our business, and one particular bit of footage takes our indie project up a notch in that category. I want so badly to share some of the images, but suffice it to say there was lots of blood, plenty of guts, and no small amount of rage. And that’s just from the crew!

Kidding. There’s still plenty to do, though. By my calculations we need two more hotel interior shoots of 2-3 days each, one hotel exterior shoot of 2 days, and one bar/restaurant shoot all before Halloween. Then it’s single pickups here and there for which I will be mostly drunk. I believe I’ve earned it. We all have.

Thanks again to the Cape May Point massive for being such a sweet, supportive bunch. To have a look at what we were able to do thanks to their good graces, you know where to go.

The Stuff of Nightmares…

Friday, August 26th, 2011

…often makes for good films: in particular, horror films. It can also make for great documentaries, and had a camera crew been following the HorrorCon team this past weekend at Monster Mania 19, they might have captured behind-the-scenes gold.

In anticipation of unforeseeable problems ahead of our four-day convention shoot – the second and last of our production – I reserved a room at the hotel on Wednesday night. The convention wasn’t scheduled to begin until five o’clock Friday, but I was hoping to get a few scenes in the can that had managed to escape our grasp in previous outings, on Thursday. I figured a day in advance would put me in good position to hit the ground running. First order of business: secure shooting privileges at the hotel pool for a very important scene involving our west coast contingent. Forget all the communication about obtaining permission that I’d been having with the hotel since March, I still had yet to finalize the details. There was never going to be any other way but last-minute, well after I’d booked the airline tickets for my actors.

The meeting with my liaison was short: I was to find out “yay or nay” sometime in the following days. Not exactly what I wanted to hear, so I grabbed my key set PA, Albert Vai, and headed out back to work on an alternative solution outside of the fenced-in pool area. Luckily, the hotel has a grassy “backyard” with benches and some castle-like hardscaping that would more than do the job. It would be dark, but we had lights, and the new space opened up some convention views through several large windows. I felt confident we’d get permission to shoot there, especially if we were turned down for the pool area that I had been asking about for the better part of five months. And I was right; the next day I learned that we were allowed two hours in the pool area before it got dark – no good for our needs – but for a fee I could have the more pastoral, benched setting until 1 am. Done.

Then came Thursday morning, and a phone call from Kelly saying she couldn’t get on her flight. As it turns out, it was my name on the ticket thanks to a miscommunication between myself and the online booking site I had used. Double the price later, Kelly was on her way through the air. I would find the money, I thought to myself. The important thing was she would be here for three key scenes. Once again, crisis averted and we were soon up and getting some great footage.

Until the power outtage. Imagine, if you will, a 14-floor hotel filled to the brim with conventioneers slowly beginning to boil from a lack of air-conditioning. I managed to climb the twelve floors to our food room in case I needed to avoid any spoilage, even if I had little idea what I was going to do about it. And there I sat, alone, wondering if the power would return so that we may continue our quest, or if the blackout would last several days as it had once before. You might think I was beside myself with frustration as I watched the angry, black clouds begin to dump their contents on the full parking lot below, but that wasn’t the case. I had expected multiple weather delays as the forecast was filthy with scattered thunderstorms, and this was just another example of unwanted circumstances asserting themselves beyond my control. If I have done everything I can in my power to get the job done, I only lose valuable energy worrying over things outside my power. Depressed? A little. Despondent? Never. And I even took a cool little elevator ride in total darkness save the red floor numbers ticking by that had me wondering if I would get stuck between floors with a few other folks who had also braved the idea. The hotel wasn’t pleased with us, but what they needed to understand was that, for a horror fan, this was an experience to relish for years to come.

Luckily, power was restored in a little under two hours, and my already tired crew was ready to rock. We got some incredible footage both inside and outside the convention, and this time around I felt we were given a little more slack. We still had issues with the fire marshals, but after the other calamities, they seemed to leave us alone. We were the least of their worries, and before long we were crossing scene after scene off of our list. Some outdoor night shooting over wet pavement capped the day’s take, and I’m pretty sure everyone felt satisfied with what we’d accomplished. Even the next morning, after learning that one of our cast spent the night with stink bugs in the economical lodging we’d reserved, and for some of us, shared, smiles greeted the sun. It was going to be a very long day that would finish well into the night, and all we had to be was perfect.

And we were, for the most part. After another bit of pre-planning with the sports bar/club across the street had fallen through forcing us to explain our presence to no fewer than five “managers” (all of whom were extremely nice and helpful, I must add), we made our way to their second floor to shoot our bathroom scene. We wrapped on-schedule, collected our things, and headed back to prepare for the big scene by the pool. We had three hours to get what we needed, and I thought it might be just enough. It wasn’t. There would be bargaining and begging with security guards to squeeze out another two hours but we did it, and literally crawled back to our rooms with barely enough energy to remove our sweaty clothes. But we slept with the knowledge that, if all went baseline normal on our last day, we would nail the remaining scenes and get out early.

If I’ve learned one thing from this production, it’s to never, ever expect things to go easily. Sunday started off well, with our stealing a few quick shots of various booths in the vendor’s hall. We met some delightful people, and I was happy to be able to include their original art and other passionate ventures in the shoot. For a few, blissful hours, we circulated among them, and I was reminded on many occasions why I was making this film in the first place. I love horror conventions, and admire the talent, hard work and determination that goes into every booth. Vendors don’t push their sales, or – ironically – play the victim if they’re not doing well. They’re a peaceful, happy bunch by and large, and it was a joy to give them a shot at a little screen time.

After lunch, it was time to set up for the last two scenes of the day. We had most of the afternoon and evening to get them, and we were set up in record time in the one room in the hotel we knew better than any other: room 1243. Sure, we were beginning to show signs of pronounced fatigue, but everyone was willing to grind it out and I was feeling more hopeful than ever. In doing so, I set up myself up for some profound disappointment. But hey, I can’t help feeling good about things. That’s the kind of guy I am. How was I to know that an interpersonal conflict among us would result in a totally avoidable fracas that would see one person sent to urgent care and our entire shoot stutter into an irreversible stall? I’m told that these things happen. To that I say no, weather and electrical outtages “happen”. It was in my power to stop it and I will not be so naive again.

So all in all, the shoot was a success; just not the success it should have been. We dodged many bullets, and while we may have crossed the finish line bloodied and weary, we crossed it nonetheless. As always, there is pictorial proof on the HorrorCon Facebook Page. Coming up: we go back to the beach before the turning of the leaves.