From the journals of Andy Deemer, Chapter Two
Chapter 2: June 6-8, 2005.
(The weekend’s auditions had yielded some talent, at last, as well as some sleazy individuals.)
Monday, June 06, 2005
Sleaze
It’s 9pm and there’s banging noises coming down from above, once again. Only this time, it’s the banging noises of partially-naked “beautiful young people”, to quote Lloyd. Now that we’ve narrowed down the candidates, it’s time to make sure they’ll freely disrobe on camera, and that the audiences will care.
I just caught the sleazy coworker (who’s working late for the first time ever) lurking around outside the auditions room. So sadly and terribly expected. He’s already gained a reputation amongst the auditioning actresses.
Post-auditions
Kiel just returned from the semi-naked auditions, shell-shocked, eyes glazed over. All he could utter was “I need a fucking beer.”
And so how come I ended up managing the location, zombies, and gore?
Post-post auditions
I now understand Kiel’s trauma. Videotaping these auditions would be enough. The stress of knowing your co-producers and your crazy boss would be reviewing them… a little more than enough.
As ______ sipped at a beer, he nervously threw out, “I’d kill my whore girlfriend if she did this.”
One down and others continue
Connie, one of tonight’s actresses, left a voicemail for Kiel while we were reviewing the semi-naked audition tapes. At this point, she’d been through weeks of callbacks, and stripped down to near nothing on video. She was one of the final contenders. And yet…
“
Feh. At least it makes the next choice a little bit easier.
All in all, watching the auditions tape was pretty amazing. Three Arbies, one Wendy, and two Mickis, swapping out acting with each other, replaying the same scenes time-and-time-again. We’ve been reading (and Gabe’s been rewriting) these scenes for months. And here they are, finally coming to life. It’s also interesting (in so many ways) to see these sex scenes coming to life. I’d bet good money that these are all from Gabe’s dark teenage masturbation fantasies.
I felt bad for the sole Wendy, who had to appear in all seven auditions, topless every time. At the same time, I can’t deny that I enjoyed it. (We all have crushes on the girl.) There were…
- two underwear musical numbers
- three topless graveyard scenes
- two topless fantasy scenes
It took alot of balls for her.
We’d told the actors to take it “as far as you feel comfortable.” Unexpectedly, one Arbie took that to mean we wanted him to audition completely nude. Wendy handled the situation with a brave face, but when he stood up at the end of the audition, sporting an erect cock, she bolted. (He was mighty proud of it as well, as he stood facing the camera. He may have been the worst actor, but I have a feeling he’ll leave a meaty impression on Lloyd.)
Tuesday, June 07, 2005
An email I sent today…
“Something else we’d like to have you guys tackle is the fried chicken with the zits on it. (see scene 53.) Can you cast some KFC, color it, and then make zits that pulsate? (and perhaps pop and spew out zitty pus fluid?)”
Another producer?
Some serious character sent in his serious resume today, applying to be a producer or production manager on Poultrygeist. He showed a real familiarity with Lloyd’s writings and work…
I can bring “grown up” production management and producing judgment to your project-and most importantly do things your way. I know that Troma is the big time in independent film. If you hire me, I will stop at nothing to help you bring your project in safely, on time and under budget. I cannot afford to work at no pay, however I can commit to the entire summer and long hours if the pay rate is $1,600 per week, plus an reference letter at the end of the project. I’d be willing to work in any filmmaking capacity you need me.
(Context: I’m working 14 hour days, seven days a week, right now for about $1000 a month.)
Lloyd kept his reply short and to the point:
Sorry…this is fart…er…art ;we do not have $1600/week…Please try Michael Bay.
Realnice.
Wednesday, June 08, 2005
Contractual Nudity
After enduring seven topless auditions in a row, the actress has accepted our offer of the role of Wendy. So before I’ve finished this morning’s first cup of coffee, I’m rewriting our actor contracts to specify that these roles include nudity. Troma’s lawyer gave me a short lecture on actresses and nudity.
“It doesn’t matter what this contract says,” he spat out. “It doesn’t matter what they sign — you have to believe that they’re comfortable taking their top off. She’ll think it’ll hurt her career. Like it did to Traci Lords. Or Paris Hilton. Getting fucked up the ass. Right now, she probably believes that when she gets the role, she’ll be so important, that you’ll rewrite the script. That you’ll need her. This isn’t true. We’ll happily switch out the actress halfway through the film, and have two different women play the same role. We’ve done it before. You and Kiel have to be sure about this girl.”
I’m not entirely sure. I’m not sure that Kiel is either.
Cheap Bastards
Normally, when a film production comes to town, people get excited. Cash for the community, stars at local bars, a chance for the cute girl next door to be discovered at the candy store. Not the same for us.
In anticipation for my relocation to Buffalo tomorrow, I sent out an email to dozens of Buffalo fans, urging them to check their parents’ basements for used beds, futons, couches, desks, tables, fax, photocopiers, old computers, printers — anything we could use — and implying that they should pilfer office supplies from their workplaces for us. This really is a skuzzy production.
This morning, though, I came in to a half-dozen responses. “I can definitely cover you guys with a bunch of random pens, pencils, stuff like that”, “a working computer with monitor and printer if you don’t mind it being along the lines of a Pentium I”, “I have a futon you guys can use. I am not sure I have all the parts anymore… In fact, I’ve been looking for an excuse to get rid of it for awhile!”
Ahhh, the high life.
Cheap Bastards #2
After weeks of haggling over rates, we’ve finally managed to secure a DP and core crew. Lloyd’s consummate professionalism, as well as more warning of what the future holds, is clearly visible in this letter he wrote to DP Brendan Flynt:
“We approve your budget even though it means a life of prostitution in my declining years… Please be sure that your team is OK with sharing rooms etc.We’ll be living hippy style,I believe..There can be no changes once we rent the house/apt etc…Also food will suck as usual…this should all be detailed in our agreement…I am destitute Now let’s make some fart…er art…I am egg-cited to work with you again!!!”
Rewrites
It’s seven weeks until we start rolling the cameras, and Lloyd, inspired by an actor’s striking performance, just decided to rewrite Poultrygeist’ gay latino character (who has several long expository speeches, and a wonderfully gory death in an industrial grinder) into a deaf mute. His explanation? “Every film has a gay Mexican! We need something new!”
He’s also started having doubts about Humus, the burkha-wearing Muslim chef. She’s a strong and sympathetic figure, and gives voice to an unvoiced population, but it’s a challenging and controversial role — so I wasn’t too surprised. (After all, Van Gogh was recently struck down.) But then he explained his reasoning… it was nothing to do with Islamist retribution, but instead, the French distributors were threatening to not carry the film.
Devotion
The fans of Troma are devoted sons of bitches. As I wrote earlier today, a bunch of kids are donating their furniture and computers, but it goes far beyond that. One of the fans in Buffalo got our logo tattooed on his leg. Another fan, in Portland, just called me to let me know he was approved for a bank loan, which allows him to quit his job - so that he can be an unpaid PA on-set this summer. Devoted? Or just crazy? (I remember my 16-year-old Rocky Horror fanaticism, where I’d sometimes sit across from Patricia Quinn’s home, hoping she might emerge. This goes so far beyond that.)
Audi
Tomorrow morning I carry a suitcase, an ancient laptop, a box of DVDs, a box of posters, one complete script, one script that’s been thoroughly whitewashed, and a handful of checks to Penn Station, and catch a train to Princeton Junction. There, I meet up with Nick Koenig — a PA that I’ve only seen once before, and we drive seven hours to Buffalo, to stay in a house with a Troma fan I’ve never met before. I’m a little nervous.
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