Capítulo 5: Solución de problemas
5.4. Hoshin
5.4.3 Actividad Hoshin en el GAP de Consola
Since working on a set isn't any more fun or rewarding than schlep-ping mattresses to a truck, your friends have to have love for you that's as warm as your grandparents' or as hot as a lover's.
In addition to the hard work production demands, the under-lying problem of getting friends and lovers to truly help is that they can't see the point of it all. When you're in the midst of the
Donuts, Red V i n e s , . . . 181 storm that is your set, you can see nothing but things you need to do. To someone who's not familiar with the work, and the linear sequences it needs to go through in order to get accomplished, the whole thing seems like the eye of the storm. Like nothing's really hap-pening. Or whatever's happening is happening ridiculously slowly.
Most didn't come to give so much as they came to get. Valida-tion and appreciaValida-tion from you, and some kind of backstage-at-the-rock-concert glamour. Instead, all they find are a crumpled crew and a messy craft service table with a vague moldy smell. They hang on, expecting the glamour to show up. They stand around with a small expectant smile, as if waiting for someone to pour them a martini.
You act delighted that they're there, you thank them more than once. They ask, of course, if there's something they can do. You have other things to worry about than what they can do without any training or fundamental commitment to getting their hands dirty. Finally you come up with something: make some more cof-fee. They do this very seriously, as if Patton's army depended on them. Three minutes later, they're done.
Is there anything else they can do? You make the mistake of handing them off to the A . D . to find something. This won't do. It's the equivalent of assigning them to the junior secretary pool when they've come to lounge in the executive suite. Being your friend, they naturally assume, gives them the privilege to jump through the cor-porate ranks. To go straight for the glamour and the glamorous work.
If only there was any of that to give them. Better you thank them, say how nice it was of them to drop by, and let them be on their way to a nice brunch and the Sunday paper.
• • 1 1 3 . NEVER, EVER UNDERESTIMATE THE IMPORTANCE OF COFFEE.
Your production is no time to cut people off from their not-so-good habits. They need cigarettes, they need coffee, don't argue with them.
The only two sure-thing pleasures of the day for your crew are
182 What They Don't Teach You at Filni School
the smell of good coffee when they get to the set, and the comfort of their car radio and a smoke on their way back home.
Start the day out the only right way. Make the coffee yourself, and make it good. Get there early enough to make a pot for the thermos and another pot for the machine. Don't be caught short.
Once those two pots are done, start the decaf. If you don't have this down before the first person shows up, you'll both just spend the first few minutes staring at the pot as it slowly drips to its conclusion.
Buy the most expensive kind and let people see the packages.
If someone wants some other expensive brand, get that. Don't for-get the real cream, sugar, Sweet'n Low, and the stuff that comes in the blue packages. These are the cheapest drug you can buy your crew, so go all out. Just about the only compliment you might get to hear about your set is "good coffee." You'll also never hear the end of it if it isn't.
• • 1 1 4 . DON'T BELIEVE ANYONE WHEN THEY A S K FOR HEALTH FOOD. BUT BUY IT ANYWAY.
Film = stress. Stress = cravings for comfort. In America, comfort = food.
Comfort food is a matter of individual neurosis, but it really rarely means carrots and sprouts. Think of the food groups you curl up with in bed with after a breakup: ice cream, chocolate chip cookies, fried things, doughy textures.
People may want to be healthy, but in times of stress, they need something else. When it's between want and need, need wins. So, when you're shopping for the carrots they insisted on having, don't forget to stop at the Hostess display.
• • 1 1 5 . HAVE THE FOOD THE A C T O R S REQUEST.
Actors can create meaning out of the words you wrote, and on bad days they can find meaning in anything. A wounded actor can find disagreeable subtext in the brand of cream cheese you bought.
Donuts, Red V i n e s , . . . 183 Not to mention the following faux pas you didn't know you made:
• Since there's no special place for them to change, you must not respect theit dignity.
• Since there's no special place for them to wait between takes, you must not respect their process.
• Since there's no one assigned to take care of their wardrobe, you must not respect their instrument.
• Since you didn't buy herbal tea for the set, you must not care about their health.
• Since you didn't plan macrobiotic meals like they asked you to, you must not care about their health, and you must not be listening to them.
If an actor goes to the trouble of expressing a concern, either directly or subtly, as a subtle actor can, it means they have one.
They expect a solution, or at least a sincere reaction from you.
Remember that theirs is a fragile, difficult, and sometimes fright-ening job. Regardless of the role, they have to show their insides to a camera and, by extension, to possibly millions of people. Since addressing many of their complaints and perceived slights may be beyond your budget and control, having the food an actor requests is an easy way to show you care.