Recovery Room

I slept away most of the morning trying to play catch-up after all those hours at work. Yesterday was another long one—9am to 1am. The good news is that as of about 12:30am this morning, I am going back to work next Monday on a little horror movie. In fact the words “if not sooner” were used, so I might not even have a full week off.

It’s been a while since I’ve worked on a horror film. Several years ago I worked on that supposed horror flick “Bless The Child”. What a piece of crap that was! I remember reading the script before I started on it saying to myself, “Dear lord! Who greenlit this shit!” That’s the funny thing about my job though. You need to work on those movies to pay the rent. Plus of course you can’t say anything about the movie while you’re working on it. And no matter how good the movie is, seeing it literally hundreds if not thousands of times during the process of cutting the sound will sour anyone on the most exquisite of cinema.

Several years before the midden-heap that was “Bless The Child”, I worked a little movie called “Nightwatch”. I don’t think hardly anyone saw it. It stars Ewan McGregor who was years away from wielding a lightsaber, that woman from “Gilmore Girls” before it was a spark of creativity in the writer’s mind, Josh Brolin before he started dating Diane Lane, and Patricia Arquette before… well just before. The director is Danish. He directed a film in his home country that someone in Hollywood thought was cool enough to pay him to make an American version. I remember sitting down and watching that first director’s cut of the American film that was turned over to us. I almost crapped myself. It was so scary. Dark, moody, and full of evil characters. Unfortunately “Scream” swept through like a hurricane and suddenly everyone wanted teen slasher movies again. So a new opening was shot and the film was cut to hell and that version you get off the shelf in Blockbuster is rather poor.

I have a ton of email to respond to from the last several days. Please everyone bare with me a day or so. I hear my bed calling again. I think I might answer.