Major anger management issues
And what Michael Caine can teach us about people.
I’ll be back next Wednesday with a new episode of my monthly podcast. Until then, enjoy this story from the archive.
I had done everything right. I talked to the right person; the one in charge. I had the terms, the agreement, and the proper signature.
And yet here I was, standing on the sidewalk in front of a 4-story brownstone late on a Sunday night getting yelled at by an enormous red-faced man with a serious anger management problem while my film crew wrapped and loaded gear.
*Record scratch*
*Freeze frame*
NARRATOR (V.O.)
Hi, I’m Clint. You’re probably wondering how I got here?
CUT TO BLACK.
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It all started weeks prior when I was location scouting in a downtown area for a short film I was directing. I was looking for something specific: an older brick building with a lot of character that could double as an apartment for my main character. Through networking and a lot of leg work I found a potential place and made a cold call.
Now, when you’re location scouting for a low/no-budget short film, you never know the kind of people you will run into.
Sometimes you find very hospitable individuals, willing to help a creative venture.
Other times you encounter downright hostile people who cut you off and slam the door in your face.
Most of the time, in my experiences anyway, you find very skeptical people who are very much on guard, worried that you might be trying to sell them a timeshare or convert them to your religion.
Trying to convince the latter type to listen to your pitch is like trying to coax a small, injured woodland creature out from behind a tree as you hold out some food.
“It’s okay, little fella. I won’t hurt you.”
On this particular day, however, I was relieved to discover that the owner of the property in question was incredibly warm and inviting. And a surreptitious bonus: She owned the entire building!
She escorted me upstairs to her fourth floor apartment and gladly showed me around. She explained that she and her husband lived on the top floor, her daughter and son-in-law below them, and her son on the second floor.
It was exactly what I envisioned. And not only that, but I quickly surmised that I could actually use this one location to double as two different places in my film. Bingo.
The two of us sat down and I went over the shooting day, noting what exactly what we would be doing/bringing in, how many people would be involved, how long we would need the space, and what exactly our crew would need. She was agreeable to all the terms and signed the location release form. I walked out the front door that day into the late afternoon sunshine with a broad smile on my face and a spring in my step. Everything was falling into place.
What could go wrong?
“Cut!” I called. “We got it. Let’s move on.”
It was the day of the shoot… well, night at this point. My cast and crew had been shooting all day at the location in question and everything had gone smoothly. We shot an exterior street scene in front of the building and then three interiors. But there was one last scene: a nighttime street exterior.
So, we had to wrap the apartment interior, move everything down four floors, and then reset on the sidewalk outside. Fortunately, there was an elevator to aid us. I asked the crew to use both the elevator and the stairs so we could speed up the process.
We were almost out. But then, a loud, angry, booming voice emanated from the stairwell.
“What are you doing?!”
“Stop using the stairs!”
When I first heard the voice I was back up in the apartment, gathering the last of our things and conducting a “dummy” check. I hurried downstairs and out on the street where I saw the angry red-faced individual you met at the beginning of this story.
His back was facing me the moment I exited the building, but then he wheeled around and yelled, “Who’s in charge?!”
I approached and told him I was.
And once again, like the time an Art Director yelled at me for stepping inside of his box truck to find a broom, I found myself on the receiving end of a hate-filled verbal thrashing.
“What was he so mad about?” you might be asking (besides some unresolved childhood trauma and the world, most likely). Well, it seemed he was extremely displeased with the fact that we were using the stairs and making too much noise.
I apologized and told him that we were using the stairs in addition to the elevator so we could wrap at the agreed upon time. That didn’t appease him. He then lit into me with a barrage of questions, like
“What are you even doing?!”
“Who gave you permission to be here?!”
“Why are you putting your stuff on the sidewalk?!”
To answer the latter question, I explained that we had one last scene to film. And somehow his level of anger went up another notch at that little piece of info. He demanded money for the use of the building’s power.
“I live here too!”
I should probably pause here and say that this man was the son-in-law who lived on the third floor. There was a woman standing near him through this whole ordeal and although we were never formally introduced, I assumed that she was probably his wife. She was unsurprisingly silent.
When I asked how much money he wanted, he blurted out, “One thousand dollars!!” I looked over at my DP who shrugged slightly and said, “We’re done.” And so we started packing up. The man turned away, apparently satisfied that he had run us off.
Now, up to this point I had been calm and polite, but I’ll be honest and say that at this juncture I could no longer hold in my sarcastic and passive aggressive nature. I said, “Thanks for understanding.” My subtext was obvious.
He turned on me like a wild animal and got right up in my face yelling and screaming. My Producer stepped in to try and take things down a notch. About that time, the kind woman who owned the building came running up to defend me and my crew, yelling back at her son-in-law. Like the courageous soldier who runs out into the open to draw the enemy’s fire so the rest of the squad can escape, she now took the full force of this man’s anger. It was a night I’ll never forget.
Here are two lessons from this encounter.
Go the extra mile. At the time, I thought all I needed to do was secure permission from the location’s owner. But in retrospect, I should have notified both the daughter and the son about the shoot. When a production is scheduled to take over a neighborhood street, a building, or any place where daily routines could be interrupted, notices are posted so everyone is made aware of what’s going on and what to expect. In this case, I didn’t do that, and I might have avoided a very unpleasant situation had I done my due diligence.
However…
Some things are outside of your control. You might do everything right. You might follow proper protocol and procedure and include all the right people and you still might find yourself on the receiving end of a verbal thrashing because there are some people in this world who:
A) feel entitled and are hurt that they were left out.
B) have an innate desire to thrust themselves into any and every situation, even if they aren’t qualified or weren’t asked.
C) are desperate for some kind of authority, but don’t have it.