Would you mind hitting me with this broom?
Do it quickly.
The rain continued to pour down on our location, bringing production to a halt. We were shooting exteriors that afternoon and the director had to make his day. So, there I sat, inside the back of the grip truck, waiting. It was one of those monstrous summer thunderstorms that just seem to come out of nowhere, cooling things down only momentarily before the heavy Southern humidity takes over.
I was still in high school, working as a Production Assistant on a commercial shoot, which means I was on the lowest rung of the production ladder. I hung out with the grips a lot, helping them unload, move, set up, and wrap gear. I stayed close, observing, listening, trying to find my way. There were two guys in particular that were kind enough to answer my questions, give me advice, and show me how to handle myself on a set. I enjoyed hanging out with them. Plus, both of them were hilarious and kept me laughing every day on set.
Well, the rain finally did stop and we got everything on the shot list, even though it meant working late into the evening (as usual). Water stood in puddles all around us as we wrapped. One of the grips I had been hanging out with (let’s call him Roy) asked me to follow him around to the back of the house where we had been shooting.
I walked behind as we traced the snaked path of intertwined stingers back to the generator. He knelt down and looked at all the electrical cables (which by now were sitting in the standing water left over by the rain). He turned, handed me a broom, and said, “Listen, if I get electrocuted, you need to hit me with this broom as hard as you can and knock me over. Don’t try and grab me yourself.”
I nodded and took the broom. Since he was always “cracking wise” and making me laugh, I thought, “Is he serious?” Then I thought, “Oh man, I hope I don’t have to knock him over with this broom,” and a slight panic set in. I gripped the handle tightly and watched him intently. I’m happy to report that not he, nor anyone else, was electrocuted on my watch that day.
It’s funny what things you remember, even decades after they happen. I’ve often wondered why I still recall this incident. It doesn’t seem like it should be that memorable. After all, I didn't have to hit anyone with a broom and no one went to the hospital. I guess it’s because by hanging out with Roy and observing his demeanor I learned two truths about working in film production.
Truth #1: Being on set is a serious business. Up to that point in my life, my only real understanding of filmmaking was the fun I had with my friends. It was a hobby. There was no money, no regulations, no oversight, no one to answer to. What I learned, however, is that safety and security shouldn’t be taken lightly. A bit of innocence and naïveté was stripped away that afternoon. Yes, people can get hurt. Yes, you need to be careful. Yes, you need to take things seriously.
Truth #2: But what Roy also taught me (with his infectious sense of humor) is not to take the work too seriously. Keeping things light while on set helps everyone have a more positive experience. It’s okay to joke around and have fun. You can definitely keep the mood uplifting while taking your work seriously. Those two things aren’t mutually exclusive. Don’t be uptight. Don’t stress so much. That leads to burn out.
And a bonus truth…
Support each other. A film crew is a family. Every great crew member needs that one supportive person standing behind them, ready and willing to hit them with a broom should the need arise.
So, be the guy with the broom.