BWW Blog: THE RESIDUALS' Worst Day of Shooting (and Why You'll Have Ones Like it)

By: May. 18, 2015
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Next month, BroadwayWorld will debut the second season of hit webseries THE RESIDUALS. In anticipation, series creator Michael Paul Smith is taking a look back at the ins and outs of filming the first two seasons in an exclusive BWW Blog Series. Check out the first installment below.

Also, every Tuesday and Thursday on BWW, THE RESIDIALS will release new video content, including episode commentary, outtakes, and more.

Smith writes, directs, and stars in THE RESIDUALS, along with his wife Gillian Pensavalle, who also stars and edits. To find out more about THE RESIDUALS, visit their website www.theresiduals.tv.


It occurred to me recently that when Gillian and I talk about "The Residuals", we naturally focus on the aspects of the process that we're most excited about. This is, I'm sure, as it should be. But if you're working on something and you find yourself mired in a valley rather than a peak, I don't want you to feel discouraged. That kind of stuff happens to us aplenty. Here's a recent example.

I always do this. I let myself get really anxious when things don't seem to be going our way, and it makes it harder for me to function. It never helps. I know this. In fact, as it was happening, I was chastising myself for freaking out (internally, of course) like I was. My self-aware thoughts included, "You know in like six hours this is all gonna be in the rearview mirror and the only thing that will matter is the footage." I tried to remind myself that everyone's having fun and that that's extremely important on-set, and that the only one really tense was me. I knew what my hindsight takeaway would soon be, but that didn't stop the anxiety. It never does. Not with everything that had gone so wrong, and not with all the unknowns that lay before me.

It was the first shoot day of Season Two. Our Kickstarter funds had been raised, but not transferred (it usually takes a couple weeks). Every minute of our shoots had also been planned. I learned from Season One that extra time should be allotted for setups, transportation (even if it's only moving from one room to another), and the inevitable incidental hiccups and delays. As director, I always aim to have one of the rare productions that actually stays on schedule. And for this shoot day, the goal was to get most of our locations out of the way. As Gillian and I lugged all of our gear into our car service (the one with a certain German name), I proudly thought that I'd accounted for all possible issues when I'd made the schedule. I hadn't.

We started in Brooklyn to shoot all the scenes that were to take place in the Ellen character's apartment. Most of our gear was in a big piece of luggage. As soon as we started unloading, a very self-assured cat, to whom I hadn't been introduced, pounced on the luggage and started ripping it like it was one of those carpeted pillars that they all seem to like so much. What the cat didn't appreciate was me. I tried to move her once and she threw a jagged haymaker at me that just barely missed. After that, she swung at me every time I came within five feet of her. I probably should have known this was a bad omen.

Soon after, it became clear that the time I'd allotted for setup was not nearly enough. New sound equipment meant a lot of testing, a little trial and error, and a ton of batteries. By the time we were ready for our first shot, we were 20-30 minutes behind. You know that feeling when you wake up and realize your alarm didn't go off and now you're late? That's the feeling I had for about the next four hours.

We got underway with our shoot right around the time that Gillian found out that that German-sounding car service had charged us over four hundred dollars for what should have been a thirty dollar ride. The almost (but not quite) comical overcharge never appeared on their app when we booked the ride, or we surely wouldn't have agreed. Our Kickstarter money was designated carefully, hadn't transferred yet, and suddenly we were in danger of being over-budget for the day and possibly overdrawn in our bank account. And we lost more time when we had to call a new car service on the fly.

We ordered a regular old town car to take us back to Manhattan for our second location: a Lower East Side rehearsal space. Ed; our director of photography, had his own car and took Sean the sound guru, in hopes of finding parking near the next location. I'd booked a room for several hours so we'd have a nice big window to shoot two short scenes, and we were already cutting into that window.

In the town car, Carrie our script supervisor, calmly informed me that the actor that was booked to meet us at the rehearsal space may not make it to the shoot at all. She'd waited to tell Gillian and me only because she wanted to find the replacement so as not to add to the stress. I appreciated that very much. Of course, that still meant that we had to get this new actor (that I'd never met) to the space almost immediately and find a way to get him as familiar with his lines as humanly possible. Ed had trouble finding parking and wouldn't get there for another thirty minutes. By then, I had frantically spoken to someone at the front desk about extending our time in the room, and was overjoyed that it was available. But that put us more over budget for the day. Our newest cast member arrived and we rehearsed: the scene itself as well as clever ways for him to hide his script. Somehow, it worked. Once our two-person crew was in the building, the scene took care of itself.

Our next journey was to nearby Planet Rose: our favorite karaoke bar that for show purposes doubles as Ellen's standup spot/hangout. As soon as I walked in (and apologized profusely for keeping everyone waiting), our two production assistants quickly calmed me down just by being their laid back selves. That was our PA's first location of the day and the timing couldn't have been better because at that point, I needed calming and familiar faces - not to mention all the help we could get. We had to rush to shoot everything that we needed before it was time for the bar to open. When one of our actors informed me that he didn't notice the second page of dialogue in his scene, I had to laugh as he crammed. We ran to another bar next door to shoot a quick fake commercial (no spoilers!), and the co-owner who'd given us permission wasn't there. The other co-owner was, and had no idea who we were. She didn't seem too thrilled to have us, either. It was awkward but we were fast. Then we finished up, and I looked at my watch and realized that somewhere along the way, we'd caught up and were back on schedule.

Once the anxiety proves fruitless and unnecessary (as it always does), I get hit with all the feelings that adrenaline had put on hold for me during "fight or flight" mode: relief, fatigue, and hunger for the first time all day. After we wrapped for the day, Gillian, I, and some of our crew had a much-needed drink and realized that we got all of the shots and performances that we needed, and then some. In the end, of course it wasn't nearly as bad as it seemed.

This will happen to you, my fellow arteests. Things happen, mistakes will be made. You and those around you are flawed. Nothing that matters this much will fail to be high-stakes. The emotional investment means that all of those feelings are magnified. It's a byproduct of care. You can only multi-task so much. Murphy's Law will rear its head and you will be tested. Try to stay focused on the headache at hand and disconnect from the problems that have already been solved. This will help prevent you from taking said headaches out on anyone. Surround yourself with helpful people and be consistently forgiving--especially to yourself. Try to remember that sense of fun, and the fact that nothing is worse than that helpless feeling of not knowing how to go about answering your calling. In other words, be happy that you're working! And for what it's worth, there's lots of people who feel your pain. So go forth, and create!


To get caught up on Season One, visit www.theresiduals.tv. You can also follow the show on Twitter @TheResiduals, "Like" it on Facebook, or follow them on Instagram.



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