UNIT PRODUCTION MANAGER (UPM)

My friend Stephen Marinaccio is someone who knew he wanted to make movies since he was eight years old. He says he was that weirdo kid who liked black & white classic films, read a lot about film noir, lighting, screen composition and direction and sucked up all the knowledge he could by watching almost any film. He graduated from college, but couldn’t wait to be free to start working on movies. When I asked him to describe what he does, he said it’s difficult to explain and then remarked that his mother asks him the same question all the time.

There’s a definition of a UPM later in the book, but just so you don’t have to look it up, a UPM is generally the one who prepares the first complete schedule and budget, is the one to make the below-the-line deals, hire the crew and approve all expenditures, time cards, call sheets and production reports. One must function as a trouble-shooter and problem-solver and have the ability to anticipate problems before they occur. A UPM needs to be a good negotiator and thoroughly understand the production process, worldwide production incentives and have an educated grasp of what it would take to film anywhere in the world—and then the ability to make that happen. A UPM must know union rules and safety regulations, immigration guidelines and how to transport an entire shooting company (along with equipment, props, wardrobe, etc.) to locations far and wide.

Stephen got his first opportunity to work on a film by volunteering to work for free. But he didn’t do it just once—he worked for free on his first three films. And then he proceeded to work his way up from set PA to UPM in 11 years. He’s been a UPM ever since, with the occasional line producer credit as well. Hands down, I have never known anyone so focused on his goals, nor anyone who works as hard to achieve them. Some of his credits include: Cliffs of Freedom, Marco Polo, The Counselor, Ghosts of the Abyss, Snowmen, The Darkest Hour and The Stoning of Soraya M.

For those just starting out, his advice is: “You need to be okay with being humble. You need to be okay not being the one with all the good ideas. You need to chill out and learn. It’s okay to be the PA—you don’t start out as a production supervisor. You need to know what things work and what things don’t, who does what and why.” He’s a big proponent of learning by working your way up and through practical experience—on the set and in a production office. And he looks for crew and staff who don’t complain and have goals. He always asks those he’s interviewing what they want to do when they grow up (yes, even if the person is 50). If they waffle, they lose points in his book.

What Stephen likes the best about his job is that he gets paid to do what he loves. And at the end of every show, he gets to look back with gratification and say: “We did that!” To him, the most exciting and challenging aspects of his work are one and the same, and they include camping in the middle of the Wadi Rum (also known as The Valley of the Moon, a valley cut into the sandstone and granite rock in southern Jordan), figuring out how to deliver a payload of gear to a ship floating in the middle of the North Atlantic, swimming across Loch Ness and surviving and getting to work with his childhood heroes.

In addition to working as a UPM/line producer, Stephen writes for LineProducing.com, a website he created to help people understand the intricate details involved with the role of being a UPM or line producer.

POST PRODUCTION

Post production is the process of assembling and completing a picture. It begins during pre-production with the preparation of a post production budget and schedule, the lining up of crew, the selection of a facility and workflow for completion and the planning of arrangements that must be made for any necessary special processes. Once a film has been edited, the remaining components (inserts, pickup shots, sound effects, foley, music, ADR or “looping,” titles, opticals and visual effects) are assembled (“mixed”) to complete the picture.

In addition to the executives who run the studios’ post production departments and their in-house staff, freelance post producers, supervisors and coordinators are often hired for specific projects, occasionally handling multiple shows at any one time. Many of the same qualities that would make a production manager, supervisor or coordinator good at their jobs would apply equally to a post producer, supervisor or coordinator: someone who’s organized; can juggle multiple balls in the air at any one time; is adept at working with a variety of people and personality types; is skilful at budgeting, negotiating deals and solving problems; and enjoys the process of assembling all the pieces and watching a show or movie come together. An effective post professional must also possess a thorough understanding of the various workflows as well as a sense of objectivity. On the bigger productions, a post producer or supervisor is likely to be brought in during production. And while they don’t generally travel as much as their production counterparts, they do find themselves traveling when certain post processes are done at out-of-town facilities or for test screenings.

This is an administrative position that can at times be quite creative, because knowing how and when to add certain elements into the mix can make the difference between a good and a really good finished product. For many years, my husband Ron was an associate producer, handling the post production on episodic television shows. I can still remember a call he received one night from a director thanking him for having saved his show. Ron had taken a show the director thought would be mediocre and turned out a finished product that was instead being praised. It’s a great feeling of satisfaction when you know you can make that type of contribution, whether you receive the acknowledgment for it or not.

My friends Nick Abdo and Cory McCrum are also both long-time post professionals, Cory being a post producer, and Nick, a producer who has spent much of his career overseeing post. Cory started by working in a cutting (editing) room, and Nick’s post education started by watching dailies and sitting with an editor on his first episodic television show. Both of them strongly believe that the cutting room is the best place to start learning this end of the business.

Cory is nothing if not animated when she talks about what she does. She’s proficient at logistics and budgeting, has got terrific management and people skills, is fiercely protective of her post team and has a tenacious I’ll-do-whatever-it-takes-to-make-it-work sensibility about her job. Being a “giver” by nature, she enjoys assuming the role of rescuer, solving problems and taking on innumerable daily challenges. She’s enjoyed being able to travel to and work in some wonderful places, but she says the very best part of it all is, after pouring her life’s blood into a project, the satisfaction she gets from seeing the film completed and on the big screen. Similarly, Nick loves sitting with an audience and listening to them laugh in all the right places— and listening to the silences in all the right places. The worst parts for both of them are the endemic issues of politics, working with difficult people and the lack of personal time.

Studio post jobs and freelance post producers, supervisors and coordinators aren’t the only positions in this field. This aspect of the industry encompasses music supervisors, visual effects supervisors, editors, assistant and apprentice editors, sound and music editors, negative cutters, re-recording engineers, DI colorists, projectionists, foley artists, ADR talent, title designers and all the jobs found within service providers such as laboratories (of which there are fewer these days), post houses, sound houses, transfer facilities, screening rooms, equipment rental companies and facility rentals (editing bays, recording studios, offices, ADR and foley stages, mixing stages or suites, etc.).

When post production exec Jake Rice comes to speak to my students each summer, he has a knack for making those who had never given a second thought to post, suddenly excited about the possibility of getting into the field. He recently told a few aspiring writers that they might enjoy working in post, as it would give them the opportunity to see the true final draft.

For those wanting to start off in this field, you might consider trying to find a position as a post PA, an apprentice editor or in an entry-level job at a post production facility.

INTERNATIONAL DISTRIBUTION

I find this end of the business fascinating, and it’s the perfect career for a movie lover who’s always wanted to be a diplomat or get involved with some form of international relations. A foreign sales company or the international department of a studio or distribution company is responsible for the international launch/festival participation of a film along with the marketing, sales, delivery and collection of the productions (“titles”) it represents. If you were to work in this facet of the industry, you’d most likely be spending a great deal of time on airplanes and in airports, traveling to various countries and cities around the world (depending on the “territory” you cover). You’d also be attending international film festivals and markets throughout the world (Cannes, Toronto, Shanghai, Rio, Sundance, etc.) and interacting with people from all walks of life. Sounds pretty good to me!

I have a cousin named Michael J. Werner who’s a veteran of the foreign sales business. He’s been in the film business for more than 40 years, having started out in the mailroom of a mini-major. Over the course of his career, he’s worked for a studio in Asia (Fox), consulted for international companies such as Polygram and IBM, and more recently has been with one of the oldest foreign sales companies, Fortissimo Films, based in their Hong Kong office. I asked Michael for his thoughts on what sort of person would do well in this profession and what those interested should know about the field. The following is what I learned from him.

An international background with life experience overseas and multiple language skills would be highly desirable. You should be someone with an open mind, an international perspective and a relatively well-developed level of sophistication. You should also possess knowledge of foreign culture, politics and history. Big Hollywood egos aren’t a good match for this type of work, and you have to be equally adept at talking and listening. You need to be able to put yourself in the other person’s shoes. When dealing with 80 to 100 different countries, it’s not likely you’ll know more about your buyers’ own markets than they do. These days, successfully pre-selling films not only requires a strong script and “package,” but also humility combined with great storytelling skills and the ability to create strong business relationships that generate a great deal of trust. Michael claims you have to be what he calls a “zen diplomat.” A keen knowledge of business with an international focus would be extremely helpful, and again, speaking more than one language always helps.

Should you have the education, background, and the desire to get into this end of the industry, you could apply at any of the studios’ international divisions in the U.S., but getting in with a smaller, independent “boutique” company (be that in the U.S. or overseas) would most likely afford you the opportunity to get more involved, have more responsibility, learn more and advance faster in a shorter period of time than you would working for one of the majors. For a comprehensive list of companies to contact, Michael suggests checking out The Independent Film & Television Alliance (www.ifta-online.org) to get a list of their 150 or so member companies. This is a terrific resource for sending out resumes and setting up general information meetings.

When I asked Michael my two favorite questions—what’s the best thing about what you do and what’s the worst, this is what he had to say:

CINEMATOGRAPHER

The camera department is a tough one to break into, especially if you’re a woman. And as many times as cinematographer Loren Yaconelli (Shameless, Animal Kingdom, House of Lies, etc.) was told that the camera department wasn’t a place for women, she was determined to prove them all wrong as she ascended the proverbial ladder. It was her dad who helped her get her first job as a camera loader. Once her foot was in the door of that camera truck, she was on her own—fighting an uphill battle and proving that a woman could work just as hard as a man, know what she’s doing and carry heavy camera equipment. It took her 12 years to work her way up to become a camera operator, which had been her original goal. She was an operator for 10 years, during which time, the more people who watched what she was doing and paid attention to the quality of her work—the more additional doors started opening for her. And the more shows she did—the more credibility she gained. It took her 22 years to get from camera loader to director of photography in a competitive, male-dominated facet of the industry. And it wasn’t just her talent that got her there, but also her stubbornness and tenacity.

What Loren loves most about her job is being a visual storyteller. She hits the ground running each morning—working quickly and efficiently throughout the day to keep things moving along. She appreciates how driven everyone is and the intense friendships that are forged by spending so much time with co-workers each day. The toughest part has been the politics and sexism, but the longer she’s stayed with it, the more accustomed she’s become to navigating her way through the muck.

When asked by younger woman what path they should take, she tells them there’s not just one way to do it. Many go to film school (she didn’t). The trick is to ultimately get a prerequisite number of days on non-union shows or to be lucky enough to be on a non-union show that turns union part-way through. She tells young women that they have to find their own way to carry heavy equipment (for instance, she carries heavy cases on her hip) and to deal with the preconceptions people have about women working in this field.

I asked Loren what she looks for when she hires her crew, experience aside. She said she looks for people who respect the crew they’re part of, have a calm, quiet demeanor and don’t need to draw a lot of attention to themselves.

If this is an area of the business you’re interested in, take classes, learn about the equipment, volunteer to help out on student and low-budget films, get some experience. See if it excites you enough to want to start this journey. Many camera operators I know have specialties—like my former student Chris who photographs skydivers as he himself jumps out of planes.

TRAVEL COORDINATOR

There was a time when some of the cast and almost all of the crew’s travel and housing arrangements and all of the shipping was handled by the production coordinator and/or assistant production coordinator. And the more expensive above-the-line tickets were usually booked by the studios. Some production coordinators and assistant coordinators still handle these time-consuming responsibilities, but as big features grew even bigger, brought on more international cast and crew and started shooting on locations across the globe, a need developed for dedicated travel coordinators. Titanic was the first show I worked on that had both travel and housing coordinators. Today, some shows have travel coordinators who also handle both travel and housing, but they may employ two coordinators—one to handle above-the-line staff, crew and cast (producers, director, writers and cast) and another to handle the below-the-line crew. And as has been the case for quite a while, the shows that require a considerable amount of shipping also employ a shipping coordinator, although on some productions, the travel coordinator may also be responsible for shipping.

My friend Mimi McGreal is one of the best travel coordinators in the business, and because she’s so good, she’s always in demand and constantly working. Mimi not only gets everyone on the cast and crew where they need to be, whether it’s for a scout or to one of multiple shooting locations (domestic and/or international), she’s often the first to make contact and start negotiating with the hotels where cast and crew will stay. She finds houses and condos for top cast members, studio executives and department heads—and sometimes their assistants as well (vetting and negotiating leases, doing all the paperwork, procuring deposits, signing the leases on behalf of the production and ensuring that these units fulfill contracts and perk agreements). It’s not unusual for her to be arranging for multiple units in multiple time zones, all at the same time. She sets up charter flights when necessary and helicopter flights for scouts. And she arranges for her production’s VIPs to get through airports (from limo drop-off to limo pick-up on the other side) with as much ease and comfort as possible.

Mimi enjoys her job for many reasons, one being that although she’s part of a production office, she has a certain amount of autonomy. She’s made some amazing friends from all over the world and has had the opportunity to see and experiences places she may never have otherwise visited, including Bora Bora, Kaua’i, London and Cuba. She deals with travel agents, airline personnel, airport greeters, gate agents, limo companies, hotel management, real estate/rental agents and studio executives alike—as well as a production’s entire cast and crew.

The downside of the job is that you’re on call 24/7 and after-hour calls are not uncommon—whether it’s due to a sudden schedule change (triggering a full company move) or to one crew member who doesn’t like his hotel room. Cast and crew will often complain about having to change planes, even after being told that non-stop flights aren’t available or protest seat assignments, even when there are no other seats available.

Good travel coordinators have to have a lot of patience. They need to easily adapt to multiple (and sometimes sudden) schedule changes, be detail-oriented, good at negotiating and have a thick skin. An easy-going and pleasant personality helps, as does being a people-person. It’s important to work in a production office for a while before becoming a travel coordinator in order to understand the production process. And know how to read a shooting schedule, day-out-of-days, call sheet and production report, so you can book flights and hotels accordingly.

Mimi also warns—sometimes you’ve just got to know when to close the door and turn your phone off for a little while. In spite of the challenges, she enjoys her job tremendously and never knows where her next adventure will be.

PRODUCTION DESIGNER

Victoria Paul is a production designer. For several years and until recently, she chose not to work out of town and instead stayed and worked in Los Angeles while her two daughters were growing up. Since many features, especially the big ones, were being shot elsewhere, her job choices were somewhat limited to television series, mini series and movies for TV. Her credits include: NCIS: New Orleans, Mistresses, Save Me, The Finder, Lie to Me, Women’s Murder Club, Vanished and The Inside. Her feature credits include: My Cousin Vinny, Body of Evidence, Breakdown and Black Dog. And the mini series she’s done include And The Band Played On and Armistead Maupin’s Tales of the City. Vicki has many more credits, and suffice to say she’s been enjoying a busy career.

As a production designer, she says it’s her job to create the look of the world in which the show happens. When asked what she loves most about her job, she said it’s building something from nothing and making it a convincing environment, also getting to play make believe with other people’s money. She heads up a group of individuals and departments that fall under the heading of “Art Department”—a small army of people who design, build and dress the sets and create new worlds in which the actors/characters inhabit. The art department includes an art director, set designer(s), set decorator, leadperson, swing gang/set dressers, property master/prop team, a construction team, an art department coordinator and much more. The department size is dependent on the scope and budget of the project, and an entry-level position would be that of an art department PA.

If you’d like to someday be part of an art department and apply for a job as PA, Vicki recommends that you know how to have a meeting (reading Chapter 14 will help), come in with a demo reel and/or portfolio of your work (if you have one), come in with a skill set and know the software most commonly used in an art department such as SketchUp, PhotoShop, Vector Graphics and 3D modeling. There’s a lot of competition to break into this department, so walk in as prepared as possible.

Vicki looks for like-minded people to work in her department, and she makes sure that they all feel heard and valued. Besides a certain level of experience and talent, she looks at how potential new hires interact with other people and how their personalities will mesh with the rest of the team. She said you just know when you click with someone and who will be a good fit for the department. Vicki is quick to praise her team, and she lets them know how she feels at the end of each workday by thanking them for the good day and/or for the great sets. She may add a parting remark, such as: “That made my day!”

THE EDUCATOR

Educating future filmmakers is a part of the business I thought little of before I became an instructor. In fact, before I started teaching, I wouldn’t have even considered it part of the business. But it definitely is, and I have Duke Underwood, who created and ran the summer program at USC’s School of Cinematic Arts for many years, to thank for having faith in me and the course I pitched to him so long ago. Sometime after I started teaching at USC, Duke and I went out to dinner one evening, and I had a chance to get his take on teaching future filmmakers.

Duke was greatly inspired by a teacher he once had who created a spark and made a big impact on him. He took it upon himself to do the same for others and was fortunate enough to be able to do so within an arena that encompassed his love of movies and filmmaking. He worked closely with all of his students, as well as all those who registered for summer classes— planning carefully, staffing properly and designing classes that offered a professional filmmaking learning experience in a supportive environment. He didn’t just shuffle the students around, but was there for and available to them at anytime. He’s warm, caring and helpful. He put in extremely long hours and dealt with the red tape politics one would expect at any major university, but he always said the positives far outweighed the negatives and he described his job as “enriching!”

I know the feeling well. As rewarding as working on a film can be, it can also be (and often is) extremely draining. Teaching, on the other hand, fills me up in a way that’s difficult to explain. All I know is that it’s one of the most gratifying things I’ve ever done.

When teaching, you constantly have to stay on top of the latest industry news, views, films, books, trends, players and technology, so you never stop learning. Another terrific aspect for me was getting the opportunity to design my own course and being able to tweak it a bit each year as the industry changes and I become more in-tune to what the students need to know and what they respond to. Duke had been designing classes for a long time before I ever set foot on that campus. In fact, he told me it was the best thing about his job. He made sure each class satisfied university guidelines; endeavored to offer new, challenging and innovative courses, and at the same time, slanted the focus of certain courses to his interests. Mutually beneficial to him and his students, it was a way for him to feed his own passions. While teaching various aspects of filmmaking, you’re surrounded by the process, talking about it, brainstorming with bright students to come up with new concepts and ideas, getting involved with student productions, bringing in (and networking with) guest speakers to interact with the class and surrounding yourself with creativity and potential.

To teach any aspect of filmmaking, a college degree and/or a certain amount of practical experience is necessary. You should be organized, patient, diplomatic, accessible and someone who can look beyond the big picture to make sure all the small details are in place. You should enjoy working with and influencing young people and aspiring filmmakers and be able to share their passion and take pride in their accomplishments. Above all, you should enjoy sharing, giving and teaching.

You won’t get rich, but this is a steady, rewarding career and a significant component of the industry, and it’s been a meaningful part of my career.

COMMERCIALS

Similar to television and feature production in many ways, commercial production is also very much a world unto itself. While there are individuals who have the ability to jump back and forth between the two realms, many choose to build their entire careers within this fast-moving industry. Production schedules are much shorter, crews are smaller and salaries are generally higher. The paperwork is similar yet different, and instead of studios and networks, you’re dealing with advertising agencies and clients. Traditionally, a commercial starts with a client (a brand) hiring an advertising agency to promote their product or service, and the agency decides to include at least one commercial spot as part of its advertising campaign. However, the industry has evolved over the last five years, where in some cases, the agency role is taken on by the production company, which works with the client directly (called direct-to-client) to create the branding, message and the final spot. The roles continue to change as the platforms on which advertising is distributed moves beyond broadcast television into digital space.

My friend Christine Evey was a commercial producer for years. She explained that commercials are like tiny movies, only much faster and more intimate. Instead of two hours, you generally only have only 30 seconds to tell a story. You’re on any one project from two weeks to two months, and working on such a tight schedule, you’ve got to be extremely organized, because there’s less time for error. A great number of variables must be taken into consideration, things happen quickly and at any one time, something can easily go wrong. It’s a fast and furious environment, and you have to be able to make decisions on a dime. Commercial producers are responsible for virtually everyone and everything on a commercial film set. The best of them remain calm under all circumstances as they tend to be the first person everyone seeks out to resolve problems, to vent or sometimes just for a sympathetic ear.

The qualities you should possess to do well in this position include the ability to hide any concerns or fears and handle the stress; diplomacy; major people skills; excellent management and creative problem-solving skills; a proficiency in budgeting and an understanding that complaining is not an option. You need to be über resourceful (just figure it out) as the word “no” is only a last resort. You must be prepared with an alternate solution or be extremely resolute when there isn’t one at hand. Christine never ceased to amaze me in the way she was able to set up a commercial production unit anywhere in the world and assemble a terrifically talented crew on what seems like a moment’s notice. She warns that it can be a thankless job, but an exhilarating and addictive one. No matter what type of project she was working on, Christine was gracious and respectful of everyone around her, whether they were advertising “creatives” or PAs. She didn’t take anything or anyone for granted and was immensely appreciative of her entire team. I was also inspired by the way she unselfishly stepped out of the spotlight to let others shine.

The way to start out in this field is to land a job as a PA on an individual commercial or with a commercial production company. Get in and show them how indispensable you can be, and then stay that way, adding that there are always others who would be thrilled to take your place. Christine recommends remaining a PA for at least a year, which is enough time to get grounded, get the lay of the land, figure out which ladder you’d like to climb and make some valuable contacts.

SOUND UTILITY

I wanted to add this section, because my pal Sean Byrnes has rightly pointed out that I haven’t written about the sound department in either of my books, so this section is dedicated to him.

Sean, who had dreamed of becoming a producer, started his journey the way many producers have gotten their starts since time immemorial—he got himself a job as an office PA. Shortly after he started, however, the clean-cut, eager young man was noticed by the show’s sound mixer who came to him with a proposal. His son, who had been working as a sound utility, was leaving his father’s three-man sound team to pursue other interests, and the mixer offered Sean the vacancy on his crew. At that particular time, the town was busy, and the union was taking permits, meaning he could work for 30 days and get into the union (IATSE Local 695). The best thing about this offer was that his salary would increase from $500 to $1,800/week. What was there to think about? So Sean took the offer, but he said it was an incredibly tough experience, and once he had worked his 30 days and received his union card—he politely opted to go back to the production office and continue his pursuit of becoming a producer. He eventually worked his way up to become a production coordinator and proceeded to coordinate for seven years.

What eventually made Sean consider getting back into sound was the modest salary he was earning as a production coordinator, knowing he could make more. He had taken an honorable withdrawal from the union, but found out that by paying $1,000 in back dues, he could once again become a member in good standing. He called everyone he knew and was able to hook up with a mixer who needed a utility on a small production called House of the Dead 2. This time, with some age on him and a great team to work with, he had a completely different experience—a really good one. The mixer he was working with brought him on to his next show, and pretty soon, Sean was enjoying solid, steady work.

Most sound crews are comprised of a three-person team: a sound mixer, boom operator and utility. The mixer is responsible for recording sound and dialogue during the filming process using the mixing panel to “mix” incoming sound from various microphones used during a shot. The boom operator uses a boomed microphone held above the actors’ heads (just out of frame) to capture the sounds and dialogue of each shot. Sean occasionally operates the boom (especially when two actors are standing far apart), but he prefers being a utility. The job used to be associated with running cable, but now that the sound on most shows is dealt with wirelessly, it’s rarely part of the job description any longer. Sean’s the first one of his team on set in the morning. He unloads the sound carts off the truck (the mixer’s cart and the utility cart), rigs the gear, passes out Comtek receivers to the producers, director, writer and script supervisor, so they can hear the audio while watching the monitors. He plugs the time code slates into the recorder (called “jamming the slates”)— one for each camera. He makes sure the two sound carts have power and gets the sides (reduced-size script pages that contain the scenes to be shot that day) from the AD or Set PA, so he can assess which actors are in the first scene and who has to be wired. To “wire” someone is the term used to hide a small microphone on an actor to capture his/her dialogue during the filming of a scene. The microphones are so small, and the sound is so good, they pick up any sound the boom may miss. One of the most important aspects of Sean’s job is to wire the actors. He has to work with the actors to find a comfortable place to hide the transmitter, and a set costumer is often present to help. But he doesn’t talk to the actors about anything other than the placement of the wire, unless they talk to him. He’s mindful not to interrupt their train of thought before they’re about to perform.

Sean has to pay attention to everything that’s going on and to know what’s coming up next. Will they be making a move? Will he have to load the truck? He diligently watches rehearsals to determine what will be required. Will they need a second boom? If an actor is lying down, for instance, or involved in a fight scene, he won’t be able to use a wire.

Sean loves his job and the fact that every day is different. He appreciates working on the set, being part of a good crew, getting clean dialogue, being part of the process. He also likes meeting new people all the time. In fact, he met his wife Laura who was a stand-in on a show they both worked on.

I asked Sean what it takes to work in a sound department. He said you have to be personable, but not chatty—not too social. You have to be a good listener and know when to talk. You have to look people in the eye, be well-rested, alert and aware. And you can’t be a smoker. You have to get too close to people, and you won’t last long in this job if you smell like smoke.

How does one break in to this department? You can take sound classes, work on non-union shows (if you’re lucky, you’ll be on a non-union show that flips and turns union). If you know someone working as a sound utility, and he/she isn’t working on a closed set, you can ask to shadow that person for a day or two. Sean suggests learning about the gear—transmitters and receivers. Learn about mic packs and how to wire. And if you’re serious, you might consider buying your own boom pole (and a boom caddy, so you won’t have to lean the boom against a wall and take the chance that it’ll fall and get damaged).

Sean isn’t sorry he gave up his pursuit of being a producer. He’s discovered that he’d much rather be a sound mixer. And from the sound of it, it won’t be long.

FILM COMMISSIONER

In a chapter devoted to career options, I’d be remiss if I didn’t dedicate a section to my newest career. I feel extremely fortunate to have landed the position I was appointed to in 2013. I doubt I would have ever written about what it’s like to be part of a film commission, had I not experienced it personally. And while this isn’t something many people dream of doing while at film school, it really is a terrific way to be part of the industry. It’s also a great stepping-stone to move on from, because of all the contacts you make and the knowledge you gain while being part of a film office staff.

During the many years I had worked in production, I interacted with several terrific film commissioners—many of whom had been a big help on various shows I had worked on. I thought I had a pretty good idea of what a film commissioner does, until I started working at the California Film Commission and really began to understand the complexities of the job.

Many film commissioners and members of their staff come from industry backgrounds, which provide them with a good understanding of the needs of their constituents. Some who work at film commissions have government backgrounds and are skilled at navigating the politics of their regions and adept at helping filmmakers cut through bureaucratic red tape. And others are generally knowledgeable about anything related to their jurisdictions, especially the locations. The ideal is a staff with a shared expertise covering all these bases.

Film commissions come in all shapes and sizes. They could be part of a state, county or city, a local CVB (convention and visitors bureau) or a chamber of commerce. They could be regulated by government code or by a county or city film ordinance, and their staff sizes vary depending on their location and budget.

Film commission staff members perform any or all of the following functions. They:

• help filmmakers (primarily location managers and scouts) find the locations they’re looking for and suggest others (they may have not thought of);

• continue to identify new location sites within their jurisdiction;

• build a digital location library containing photos and contact information for each location site;

• issue film permits; and if they aren’t the issuing authority, connect filmmakers with the city or county offices that do issue the permits;

• administer incentive programs (that they often help to create);

• work with local hotels and other businesses to get filmmakers working in their area the best deals possible;

• provide resources for filmmakers;

• get involved with legislation that could affect the film industry;

• stay informed on issues that could affect filming (i.e., the use of drones for filming);

• promote their jurisdiction to filmmakers (by marketing in trade publications, attending industry trade shows, creating events and conferences to showcase their territory);

• work with local government entities governing beaches, parks, forests, utilities, roadways, airports, courts, museums, universities, etc. to create reasonable guidelines and accommodations for filming at these locations/facilities;

• work with local districts/neighborhoods to promote film-friendly policies (often called “community outreach”);

• some film commissions will help connect visiting productions with local staff and crew;

• help filmmakers solve problems.

Helping to solve problems is my favorite part of the job. It’s somewhat like being back in production, when “no” was rarely an option. And problem-solving on a state level can be as simple as making one phone call to the right person who’s amenable to listening, understanding and acquiescing (or working with me to find an alternate solution to whatever the obstacle is). It can also be as frustrating as having to wait a year to get a meeting with just the right person who has the ability to change an outdated policy. And what I really like is that when I’m instrumental in solving certain problems for a production in need, it not only helps that one show, but often helps all the shows that follow. It feels as if I’m fighting for a team I used to be part of, so the victories always feel personal. And when a location manager or scout calls with an urgent problem and says, “You have no idea how much pressure I’m under to make this work. You’ve got to help me,” I can honestly say, “I totally understand,” because I’ve been there.

I’m not a film commissioner, but am happy to work alongside Amy Lemisch, an amazing woman whom I’d venture to say is the best film commissioner this state has ever had. My title is Deputy Director, and when I first got this job, some friends asked if have a badge. (It sounds as if I should, doesn’t it?) I never thought I’d leave production, but this is a position where I can put all the skills and knowledge learned during my many years in production to good use.

My job is demanding, but not production-level demanding. I work 8 to 10 hours a day instead of 12 to 15. Besides solving problems, I go to a lot of meetings, supervise staff, plan events, write reports, presentations, guidelines and articles for newsletters, represent the film commission at various events and functions, review film ordinances, participate on committees, work with our network of regional film commissioners and meet with filmmakers from other countries. I’ve been asked to judge film festival entries and to speak at community events. And there are days when I just get to spend hours sorting through breathtaking photos—looking for just the right ones to post on our Facebook page, place in an ad, a conference program or a magazine layout highlighting California’s richly diverse locations. The biggest downside of the job is getting used to working within a big bureaucracy and having to have the patience for how long certain things take to accomplish and how arduous certain processes are.

We all know that when you work in production or some other areas of the industry—your personal time/life is greatly diminished. Now that I’m working at the film commission, I can have a job and a life, and I love it.

VIRTUAL REALITY

Virtual Reality (VR) is defined as the use of computer technology to create a simulated environment. Unlike traditional user interfaces, VR places the user inside an experience.

There may come a time when VR is so commonplace, it’s no longer a big deal, but at this moment in time, it’s quite the rage. And while VR is exploding, it’s still an evolving technology. There is yet to be a standard methodology, although the one constant is that every VR shot is planned and executed as a VFX (visual effects) shot. Companies springing up to specialize in this fledgling field are having to deal with the growing pains of a new production company, the difficulties of a tech start-up, the R&D challenges of working with new cameras and a continuing evolution of new post work flows.

I connected with Solly Mirell, staff production supervisor at Here by Dragons (formerly Vrse.works) through one of my former students who recently started working there. Solly generously made time for us to talk, gladly told me about the field and how he landed there. His enthusiasm for the work was evident throughout our conversation.

Solly said the most exciting part of his job is being part of a team that gets to try things that have never before been possible. On the other end of the spectrum, the toughest part is the constant communication needed to accommodate the changes that occur almost daily, the language that hasn’t yet been defined and the expectations that are all over the place. He enjoys the challenge of having to stay on his toes in an environment he classifies as the Wild West.

He came to VR with what seems like the perfect background, having started in the business by interning with some first-look companies at studios and also at ICM. Working at ICM, he learned how to be a good assistant and the importance of building solid industry relationships, while he also developed an eye for good content. Solly then landed in commercials for three years where he worked his way up to the position of production manager. This is where he developed good production and problem-solving skills. And along the way, he got into the world of computers where he learned to build a network and manage equipment. He read tech sites and attended electronics conferences, constantly striving to stay on top of the tech learning curve.

When I asked Solly what qualities someone should have to work in VR— what he looks for when he hires someone—he said the essentials are an unbridled curiosity about what this medium can do and a technological proficiency. He’s drawn to individuals who understand tech terms, watch everything they can, have an opinion and are willing to learn. The industry as a whole is looking for people from all backgrounds—camera, post, tech, production, VFX. And as in any other area of the business, it’s also your relationships that will get you in the door via connections and referrals. Solly reached out to someone involved in Vrse.works a year before he started working there. It was a connection to someone he knew through the commercial production company that got him the initial meeting. It was his tech and production experience, and I have no doubt his passion, that eventually got him the job.

VR is an exciting new facet of our industry that’s exploding with career possibilities. If this is something that interests you, don’t wait too long to get your foot in the door, because the line to get in will soon be out the door and around the block.

CASTING

In simplistic terms, casting is the process of searching for, recommending, interviewing, setting up readings for and negotiating deals to secure the principal cast members on any given production—the term “principal” referring to those actors with speaking parts. Casting personnel work closely with actors, agents, managers, producers, directors, studio executives and assistant directors. They’re always on the lookout for new talent and creative suggestions to bring to the decision-makers’ table. Those making the final casting choices would include any or all of the following: director, producer, studio or network executive overseeing the project and sometimes (depending on the part), the casting director.

I spoke to casting director Susan Johnston, and in her view, a casting director has to understand the unique needs of each individual and be innately adept in psychology, whether it’s in dealing with actors or their goalkeepers— agents and managers. She said the challenge is often in having to figure out why certain roles would be great for certain actors, and then having to sell them and their agents and managers on accepting the roles, all the while anticipating their needs before they even know what they are themselves. I asked Susan what qualities would make someone good at this job, and she said, “Someone who loves people, can see outside the box, is intuitive and dedicated and doesn’t mind the long hours.” Her favorite part is the joy she derives from connecting with people in a way that offers them their “15 minutes of Andy Warhol fame”; also discovering talent and seeing them come to life artistically with a team (director, producer, other actors, etc.). She loves choosing an “outside of the box” person for a role and gets a thrill out of helping talented actors get into SAG-AFTRA. I asked her about the worst part of her job, and she told me about the time an actor showed up at her front door (which wasn’t easy being that she lives in a security building) at 7:00 p.m. on a Saturday night to give her his headshot. He handed it to her with an air of entitlement, because he thought he was perfect for a role she was casting, and the sooner he got it to her, the better it would be for him. She calls this the “oooohh factor,” when an actor thinks if he sees a casting director in person, she will notice his greatness and get him an acting job. She said casting directors are looking for actors to be themselves, to use common sense and to be team players. She added that protocol and professionalism go a long way.

When asked how casting has changed in recent years, Susan explains that in addition to the traditional casting process, these days, she does a lot of what she calls “direct casting.” She sends out casting notices directly to 6,000 plus talent agents and managers who have registered (for free) on her website (www.SusanJohnstonCasting.com) to receive casting notices. Those who submit talent or themselves for roles they’re right for are emailed sides and asked to send in their own audition tapes by a certain date. The submissions are usually cell phone or tablet videos. Those whose audition tapes are deemed to be good possibilities for specific roles are asked to come in for in-person reads—having skipped the whole initial in-person audition part (of the traditional process). Doing it this way keeps costs down for everyone. It’s also convenient for last-minute changes, such as when a role is added or changed to a different gender or ethnicity. For companies that have the time, space and the budget—the formal casting process is still very much in play.

Some companies employ in-house casting executives, but many casting directors, like Susan, work on a freelance basis. Getting a job as an assistant in a casting office is a great way to learn this end of the business and to be in a position to move up. Some casting offices also utilize interns if they come through accredited college/university internship programs.

BACKGROUND CASTING

An often overlooked aspect of casting is the field of extras casting. Extras or “background” players are more than just a bunch of people milling around your principal characters. They create a backdrop, one more visual element of the film the viewer is drawn into. Hand picking the people who realistically look as if they belong there and will completely blend into a story is in itself an art form.

Any one of numerous extra casting agencies supply films and television shows with their background players, stand-ins (individuals used to “stand in” for principal actors for the purpose of focusing shots, setting lights, etc. but are not photographed) and photo doubles (individuals who are photographed as substitutes for principal actors, generally in long shots or from angles where faces aren’t clearly seen). Once an agency secures a show, it will assign a staff casting associate to oversee the project.

At any one time, an agency may be handling one to multiple shows, supplying anywhere from a handful of extras to a stadium full. Agency coordinators will meet with members of respective production teams to discuss the number and types of extras needed, as well as the “look” envisioned by the film’s creative team. This is followed by the submission of photos for consideration and a selection process by the director.

Once principal photography begins, the agency receives their “call” the evening before, confirming the number of extras needed and the times and location of where they’re to report. Unfortunately, call time information is always subject to change, so it’s not unusual for the casting coordinator and staff to have to contact and recontact (and sometimes recontact again) the few (or thousands) who are scheduled to work the following day with revised call times.

In addition to lining up new shows, casting and making sure booked extras receive all their necessary instructions and call times, the agency registers thousands of new extras a year. Whether it’s a huge agency or a smaller “boutique” agency, they’re all tremendous hubs of activity. And, many extras casting directors and coordinators also work on-set, away from the office, checking in and wrangling extras during the course of a shoot. Others travel with production units, setting up temporary casting offices on distant locations.

As with many other aspects of the industry, extra casting is exhausting work. You have to love working with people of all personalities, have a great deal of patience, be able to roll with the punches and, above all, have that “eye” for placing the right people in the right shows. My friend Bill Dance, who has been an extras casting director for many years and has his own agency, has this advice for those interested in pursuing this career path: “A casting director has to have a real intuitive passion for people. Start off interning or assisting a casting director. If you immerse yourself in the casting process—learning everything you can—the work opportunities will present themselves.”

LOCATION MANAGEMENT

A location manager is a representative of an entire film production and is generally the first person the outside world meets. More than once, I’ve heard it said that the location manager is the person who brings the circus to town (or to a neighborhood). Her job is to help realize the director’s artistic vision by finding practical locations where the production can film. If what the director has envisioned isn’t available, the location manager often has the formidable task of selling the director on the merits of alternate sites. She has to know what constitutes a suitable location (entailing much more than mere physical appearance) and is able to do so based on her working knowledge of site fees, permits, regulations, restrictions, fire safety, security issues, insurance requirements and whether a specific property can accommodate an entire cast and crew plus background performers, vehicles, equipment, a catering tent, etc.

A location manager has to be quite the politician. She must deal with the entire crew, location residents and property owners, their neighbors, film permit officials, film commissioners and representatives of various film, city and government offices. Depending on the circumstances of any one show, that list may include individuals representing railroads, hotels, private businesses, circuses, race tracks, theme and ballparks, schools, etc. Her solid relationships, people skills and good reputation may make the difference between getting a last-minute approval on a permit, a date change on a location or the closure of a stretch of highway when needed.

Ever the ambassador, part of her job is to convince dissenting residents and business owners who don’t particularly want a production unit filming in their neighborhood to sign a consent release. She also endeavors to win over nervous residents and property owners who have qualms about having a film crew on their premises. Then, should the crew or any of the equipment being used cause damage to the property or the experience not go as well as the property owner had hoped, it takes a true diplomat to make sure everything is restored—the property as well as the relationship. Her objective is to satisfy the property owners (knowing she can call on them again for another show) and make sure they don’t leave the experience with a negative impression of film companies. She must also make sure that while at any location the production has achieved all it had set out to accomplish.

She has to be adept at negotiating, have the resources necessary to temporarily close down roads and major highways when necessary, figure out how to get entire film companies into remote shooting locations and be able to rearrange months of planning and permitting on a moment’s notice when the shooting schedule changes.

The location manager spends a good part of the pre-production process in a car on her own or on “scouts” with the director, producer, production designer and first assistant director (and then later on “tech” scouts with various department heads once locations have been selected and secured). She spends more time out and about than in the office, and for some location managers, that’s just the way they like it. And she takes lots of photos of various locations as possible filming sites. I’ve known several location managers who, as a result, have evolved into avid still photographers. You have to have a good eye, so by looking at a building, a home, a street, a town, a cityscape, a view, you know that it can be shot in a particular way to look as if it belongs to another place in another time. That same good eye enables you to spot locations that until that time had only resided in the director’s head.

Unlike a location manager, a location scout is one who scouts only and takes photos of likely location sites, but doesn’t manage the locations. Some who work in this position enjoy their role as a scout, others use it as a stepping-stone to becoming a location manager and still others interchangeably work in both capacities.

I interacted with my share of location professionals while working in production, but now that I’m a fixture at the California Film Commission, I’m in contact with location managers and scouts on a daily basis, having become friends with many of them.

Several years ago, I worked with Ned Shapiro on a movie called Joy Ride, and we’ve been friends ever since. Some of his other credits include Apollo 13, The Crossing Guard, Bulworth, The X Files, The Dukes of Hazzard, W. and The Kids Are All Right. Ned is now happily enjoying retirement, but when I had asked him about his career, he told me that not many location managers start off with this position in mind, but land there nonetheless. For those who might like to pursue it as a career, he suggests starting out as a PA and then seeing if the job appeals to you. He explains that it takes someone with a lot of patience, a sense of humor and a thick skin. What he enjoyed most about what he did for so many years was getting to work out of town. He’s always loved meeting interesting people and learning how the real world works.

I also spoke to Mike Fantasia, a location manager who claims that his is the best job in the business. Mike is living proof that most people don’t start off with this position in mind. His life changed in 1989 when Universal Pictures came to the small, remote town in Montana where he was living and working for the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service and the U.S. Forest Service. That’s when he met location manager Patricia Fay who needed his help on the film Always. His career and his life hasn’t been the same since. Some of Mike’s credits include: A River Runs Through It, Heat, Jerry Maguire, A Night at the Roxbury, Girl Interrupted, Catch Me If You Can, Seabiscuit, The Terminal, Memoirs of a Geisha, 3:10 to Yuma, Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull, The Green Hornet, The Amazing Spiderman, Godzilla, Ant-Man and more. You can see he’s one of the busiest location managers in the business.

What Mike loves most about his job is being involved in every aspect of a film. For someone who wants to pursue this line of work, he suggests that you have a curiosity (or knowledge) about architecture, that you’re a good still photographer, a good researcher and that you like to travel. And he suggests that you talk to your local film commissioner about the locations most filmed in the area where you live. He said you should have a great attitude and the ability to handle stress and fix problems. He says this job takes someone who’s personable, can adapt to change and meet deadlines. When he’s in the market for assistants, he looks for individuals who can walk fast, remain flexible, take direction and aren’t too set in their ways. When I asked him how he stays motivated when having to deal with the grind, the long hours and the politics, he said what makes it all work is that he loves what he does and has fun figuring out the constant stream of new challenges. One of his biggest challenges was closing down Broadway for eleven blocks through Times Square a week before Christmas for The Terminal. Not bad, huh?

I hope this, as well as the previous chapter, has opened your eyes and started you thinking about the many different career choices within the realm of entertainment. I’ve only touched on a handful, but there are many, many more out there. Take some time to read, ask questions and explore what this business has to offer. Choose some options that fit well with your skills, strengths and interests, and then evaluate what it takes to get into those facets of the industry.