I didn't think this through.
Maybe if I stand here long enough, I'll figure it out.
“Clint!”
One of the grips called over to me, and me being the young and eager P.A. (Production Assistant), I dropped what I was doing and rushed over.
“Run to the grip truck and grab a combo stand.”
“Copy that.”
I loved learning and using the lingo while on set. It made me sound like a real professional member of the crew.
You don’t say “Yes,” or “Okay.” You always say, “Copy.”
You don’t say, “I’m going to the bathroom.” You always say, “I’m 10-1.”
You don’t say, “Here comes the c-stand!” You always say, “Flying in.”
You don’t say, “Clothespin.” You always say “C-47” (or “bullet”).
You never answer, “What?” when someone calls your name on the walkie. You always say, “Go for [insert your name here].”
It’s a fascinating world of inside slang, acronyms, and abbreviations.
Anyway, I ran as fast as I could back to the grip truck, thankful that I was given a chance to be on my very first film set.
When I arrived, I saw other crew members rushing about, pulling gear, carrying gear, moving gear, etc. Here’s where I might compare the activity to an ant colony, but ants tend to look organized. A film set is a chaotic, yet erratic place. There are periods of intense activity, followed by long stretches of quiet and stillness as the cameras roll.
I stood at the truck, looking up at all the gear, knowing one important fact…
I have no idea what a combo stand is.
My plan wasn’t well thought out, I admit. I was hoping I could figure out which stand was a combo stand simply by looking at the gear. I mean, the word “stand” is in the name, so that narrows the field a bit. If Plan A failed, my backup was to listen to others on the crew. If I heard someone else say “Combo stand,” I would watch and see which piece of gear he picked up. Then I would do the same.
I didn’t take into account, however, that each plan had a major downside - time. You have to move quickly on a film set. Time is money, and you don’t want to keep people waiting.
Of course, I could have simply asked someone which one was a combo stand, but in my youthful eagerness that didn’t cross my mind. I was scared to admit I didn’t know. In my youthful eagerness I wanted to impress. I wanted people to see me as a valuable asset to the crew. I didn’t want them to think that they had to stop what they were doing to hold my hand every step of the way.
I know now that was the wrong approach. You shouldn’t “fake it until you make it.”
Lessons Learned:
It’s okay to ask for help.
It’s okay to admit when you don’t know something.
It’s okay to ask the “dumb” questions.
Even though I’ve worked in production for a while now, I’m always quick to ask questions when I don’t know something. That’s the best way to learn. Even if I know how to do something, I know that my method might not always be the best method, so I ask others, “Hey, why did you do it this way?” By doing that I usually come out with a new perspective on an old technique that I can add to my ever-growing tool box.
You can’t go wrong if you always approach your work with a student’s mindset. That way, you won’t find yourself wasting people’s time while you stand in front of the grip truck looking like an idiot.