What I Learned From "ZMD: Zombies of Mass Destruction"

Well, I thought I was going to have an interview for you today... I sent out a whole bunch of them a couple days ago and I thought I'd get at least one back to share. Nope. But that's cool... because I got an email from the After Dark Film Festival, announcing that they've picked up their fourth film for Horrorfest 4, "ZMD: Zombies of Mass Destruction". I guess the film would be best described as a political zomedy and it's probably the first entry into that very specific sub-genre. However, at the end of the day, it's a zombie movie. Probably the oldest and most tired horror genre out there, right? Before we judge, let's check out the plot... ZMD is about a conservative island community that's under attack by the living dead and the rag-tag band of rebels, led by Frida, an Iranian college student, suspected of being an Iraqi terrorist, and Tom, a gay businessman who has returned to town with his partner to come out to his mother, that try to turn the tide and push the invading hoards of the undead back. Hmmm... interesting characters. Could make for a good story. Now, I'm intrigued...

You see, when I read the title of the press release, "After Dark Films Eats Up The New Horror Comedy, "ZMD: Zombies of Mass Destruction", I thought... Man alive, when's the zombie genre going to slow down? Isn't this getting a little old? But, when you watch the trailer and read about the characters, you realize that the movie is fresh. From a political and social perspective, it's extremely fresh. So, really, here's a formula for you: tired genre + fresh story = something new and exciting. Now, I want to juxtapose that with a film that I watched yesterday, which will remain nameless... we'll call it "Film X". The logline and premise for "Film X" were both exciting. It seemed very new, it was a great idea and extremely intriguing. Long and short, I was pumped to check it out. However, a few minutes into the film, I realized that they just wrapped that idea around a very tired and old storyline. The characters were basic cardboard cutouts and I've seen them a million times. So, in this case: fresh genre + tired story = something old and boring.

I don't know why, but I think this is a concept that a lot of filmmakers forget. I don't care how new your core idea is... I don't even care if you've created a new genre. Your characters need to interact, they need to have a story and they can't just be a rehash of something that we've seen before. If it is, your audience is going to lose interest in a hurry. Think about it, why have there been new entries into the zombie genre, year after year, that continue to entertain? The backdrop never changes! The dead come back to life to eat the living... I got news for you, that's not fresh! However, the storylines are. The genre and/or concept will always be the backdrop and the characters and story needs to be equally, if not more intriguing. A lot of films have such great core ideas, but they flop like a dead carp when it comes to the actual plotline and characters. So, please, if you've got a good idea, put as much time and effort into creating interesting characters and plotlines as you put into that backdrop. At the end of the day, the concept is just that - the backdrop. The characters, and how they interact, need to drive the story.

Anyhow, here's the trailer for "ZMD: Zombies of Mass Destruction". Check it out and see what I mean.

The Making of a Tromadance Winner, by Frankie Frain Part IV

That's right folks, the time is finally here. You've been waiting almost a month to tie it all together and this is your chance. It's the last and final part of the Frankie Frain article, "The Making of a Tromadance Winner". Now, I want to make sure that you're all up to date on this, so if you missed parts I, II or III, here's links: part 1, part 2, part 3. And if you're too lazy to click on all that, don't worry. I'll post a link to the article in its entirety at some point over the next few days.

Anyhow, as this is the end of the article, I'd like to give a huge thanks to Frankie for writing it. Honestly, it's a great article with a lot of good advice... especially if you're just starting out. Now, do him a favor and go buy "I Need To Lose Ten Pounds" and/or "A-Bo The Humonkey". Click on either of those links to go to their respected homepages.

So, now... for your reading pleasure, here we are, the last few paragraphs of the article. Right in the heart of his advice to all new, up-and-coming filmmakers...

For the guys out there – get a girlfriend.

Because then you won’t give a fuck about making your shitty little movie.

But seriously, every successful project I’ve been a part of (including my own, obviously) has had a really cool, down to Earth, sociable, hard working and sturdy as a rock girlfriend attached to the director and piece, playing every role she can. I wish I could put my finger on exactly what this does for a production, but obviously a project’s success is based on the help and charity of those who love you, and who better than someone like this? Plus, an all-guy party scares location owners and actresses and everyone, especially if your film contains nudity or sexual situations involving females.

So get a chick to at least be there.

Keep shooting days short.

I have good friends who shoot very long days for successive weeks, and they’ve had complete success. But if your script contains the kind of locations, effects, and shot for shot scope that mine stupidly have, it’s the quantity of locations that will dictate your shooting schedule. So I could have, for instance, a very difficult location that’s only featured onscreen for a minute or so – but regardless, that becomes an entire shooting day, unless you can somehow group locations together (i.e., the all-male bath house buffet is coincidentally a block away from the hermaphrodites-only YMCA that appears later in the film, and both feature the same characters). But because my total shooting time tends to be several months (most people can only commit to weekend shoots since, unless you’re a rich bastard with nothing but rich bastard friends, everyone has jobs or class), I don’t like to tax everyone with dreadfully long shooting days. And there’s another upside to this – you don’t have to spend money on that most wasteful and pointless of commodities even the poorest of filmmakers seem to insist on providing: fuckin’ food. Do full stomachs appear on screen? No. Do they make people happier and turn in better performances? Debatable, but even if true, we low-budget fucks could only afford 4-for-3 medium pizza deals anyway, and pizza makes everyone just wanna hang out or go home and take a crap.

Short days – they’re easier to schedule, get people to commit to, and book locations for. It shouldn’t be too tall an order to keep the day short. I mean, you are shooting on DV aren’t you?

Don’t get snobby about aesthetics.

That’s probably pretty obvious, but I just want to remind you that good actors and a good script are the most important parts of your films, and they can and should be 100% free. But obtaining good aesthetics (and I don’t mean good camera work or competent lighting, a good DP should be able to capture these elements for free as well) is the quickest way to spend unnecessary money. Buying complex lighting kits, unnecessarily large-res camera, or god forbid, shooting on fuckin’ film.

Save yourself money. Focus on what really matters.

Don’t get caught up in “professionalism.”

I think this sorta sums up a lot of what I’ve been saying – only concern yourself with what’s actually going to appear on screen. Too many young filmmakers are too concerned about their perception as professional filmmakers. You know what dude? Do whatever it takes to make the movie. Don’t bring unnecessary equipment to look badass (you scoff, but I’ve seen it), don’t have precious, private moments doing bullshit exercises with the cast while alienating your bearded and autistic crew (you scoff, but I’ve seen it), and for the love of Christ, leave the walkie-talkies at home – you all have cell phones. I’ve just seen too much emphasis put on what “looks right” or how the pros do it and it makes me nauseous.

But I’m probably preaching to the choir – I’m talking to people who make movies with titles like Control-Alt-Die and Terror Dactyl. The only thing stopping you from making your movie right now is a couple of phone calls to some friends saying you shoot on Saturday the 19th. You’ve probably heard this advice more than anything else – just make the movie. Don’t worry about if it’s going to suck – it’s your first movie, it probably will anyway. And who knows? Maybe you can fix the suckiness in post by cutting most of it out (that’s what I did). Just get it out of your system.

Be too stupid to know that it’s impossible.

- Frankie Frain

The Making of a Tromadance Winner, by Frankie Frain Part III

I can only assume that you've been anxiously waiting for part III of the Frankie Frain article, "The Making of a Tromadance Winner", but if you weren't aware of the article... here's a link to part I and here's a link to part II. Now, today, you get the much anticipated part III. Actually, this is where the shit gets good and you'll get to hear about some lessons learned. There's only one more, final part coming next week, so stay tuned for that. Otherwise, I'd like to mention that Frankie's pimped up his site a bit, so go on over to INeedToLoseTenPounds.com and check it out. While you're doing that, you might as well head over to AboTheHumonkey.com and check out the site for his other film. Anyhow, here's part III...

...two years later, shooting sparsely on weekends, getting in trouble with the law and the local school system for the manner of our shoots, and almost losing our main actor half way through shooting (he got bored, decided the effort was pointless, and quit. Who was able to convince him to come back? Jon Hunt. As if the guy wasn’t already useful enough) we finished the film. It was a moment I had fantasized about for nearly five full years, and if I can be just slightly romantic for a moment, it was as relieving and incredible feeling as taking the world’s largest shit. The film’s final quality was almost less important than its mere completion. That crazy script with the locations and special effects had actually gotten shot by a group of teenagers, with few compromises and virtually no cash. How? There’s a big answer and a little answer.

Little answer: Again – we were too stupid to realize it was impossible. So we just did it.

Big answer: Let’s go into some methods and techniques we used and implemented to pull this off.

Know when to be honest and know when to lie.

This is important. I’ll give an example.

“So how long will you be shooting at my all-male bath house and buffet, and how many people will be here?” asks the location owner.

“We should be about 2 to 3 hours, and it will only be a cast and crew of about 7,” you reply truthfully.

“What’s this for?”

“The local high school video yearbook. It’s just a wholesome, fun little scene we’re shooting,” you lie through your fucking teeth. You don’t need to tell him the scene is about group masturbation and seafood.

Obviously you have to be honest about the way you’ll be exploiting their location, because he/she will be there keeping a steady eye on you. But if you start shooting the clean stuff first, or run boring rehearsals, they’ll eventually leave you alone and get back to alphabetizing the lubricants in the stock room. But if you describe any plot or characters or details that are just irrelevant to them, they may realize you’re the depraved ingrate you really are and call the whole thing off. I was once so close to having someone’s personal mansion as a location, but I gave too much of our vulgar plot away and she declined. So be smooth, very polite and articulate, and seem like no hassle to them at all. Remember, they have no incentive to let you do this other than personal kindness (or if your location scout is hot…but I was always the one doing it so that never worked well for me). And with that, never bullshit the owner with “your location will be featured in a real live movie!” because they just don’t give a shit.

Oh, and get your location release signed when you show up for shooting, before you even begin. That’s key.

Carry the burden. It is YOUR movie.

So none of this, “Come on guys, you committed to this! The film belongs to all of us!” because they’re not buying it, especially if it’s your first film. On my second feature, people knew I was going to finish the piece, but on Ten Pounds, for all they knew, I could get bored any day and just have a pile of useless, half-shot footage. For the most part, the only reason anyone would show up to your shoots (crew or cast) would be because it sounds cool or because they’re your friends and just want to be nice. So don’t be a dick to them!

Here was a common film school scenario I saw far too often: aspiring director recruits his/her cast and crew while totally playing hard-ass producer, making them come back for follow-up interviews and what not, and then when shooting time begins, all he/she wants to do is be the director. They don’t want to be the diplomat or the caterer or producer or anything but the guy or gal who plans out the shots. Well guess what douchebag – regardless of what capacity your crew has committed to, you’re making a no-budget independent film, so that means YOU take on EVERYTHING. The more you can allow these volunteers to just focus on that one little thing you need them for (like, gee, I don’t know, portraying your film’s characters, or golly willickers, holding the god damn boom mic), the happier they’ll be to return to each subsequent shoot. Don’t “hire” a “producer.” YOU are the producer.

So the lesson here – don’t throw it in their face that they committed to helping you. You’ll just make them regret it and they’ll never help you again.

But that said…

So how do you get make up designers and proper actors and people who aren’t just heavily bearded horror fans to help out every weekend? It goes against some of my philosophy, but you will have to find an incentive for them. Hopefully they just like your script! That’s the easiest way, and is going to be the most important factor any way you slice it. But the fact is, there’s a shitload of actors and designers who need resumé work, and guess what? They’d love a feature on their resumé. So see if you can find ways to include their work or talent in the movie a little more so their reel is that much larger – it will probably improve the film.

Next week, the final chapter... part IV.

The Making of a Tromadance Winner, by Frankie Frain PART II

I feel a little guilty making you wait a full week for part II of the Frankie Frain article, "The Making of a Tromadance Winner", but... well, yeah. What can I say? And if you didn't get a chance to read part I, here's the link. If you did read it and you've been anxiously waiting for the second entry, cool. Your time is almost here. However, before we get to it, I just realized that it's not exactly the easiest film to find. So, if you're interested in checking it out, and I would highly recommend that you do, you can email Frankie at JVCFelix@yahoo.com or head over to INeedToLoseTenPounds.com for more information. While you're contacting him, you might as well pick up his other film, "A-Bo the Humonkey" and if you're into Troma films, I think you'll really dig them. Now that I've got that off my chest, here's part II of "The Making of a Tromadance Winner", by Frankie Frain...

Like many projects I’m sure you’ve either tried to start or have agreed to be a part of, this “film” was dangerously close to just fading away as that “stupid idea we had when we were freshmen in high school.” But one very important event occurred that took it from naïve idiocy to a potentially real production: a 450 pound computer nerd who lived a few miles down the street that I was introduced to. Jon Hunt was 6 years older than us, and in 2000, Jon already had a computer ready to perform large scale video editing and even possessed some sound and camera equipment (well, more than my parents anyway). And he was willing to build me a computer. And he was a brilliant music writer. And he was gigantic! He’d be a perfect cast member in this film! Plus he had a full time job and could freakin’ drive! I was just lucky that he was at all amused by the comic work of a 14 year old jackass, let alone a piece that ripped on fat people so aggressively. I showed him some of my short works (I think my animation How Hitler Stole Chanukah won him over), and suddenly, we had just multiplied our resources by a few dozen (as well as our sum weight). Plus, Jon made the most buttery, fatty, delicious, can’t-get-enough-of-it macaroni and cheese.

As I got way fatter hanging out with Jon every weekend, we started shooting shorts for a variety of purposes. Sometimes for fun, but often for me or my friends’ high school projects. I think we were just motivated and excited to make anything, because we never really had. And every time we shot a new film, I would say stupid shit like, “So when we’re shooting Ten Pounds, we should shoot at such and such a place, with 12 cameras,” and my friends must have wondered, “Does he still want to make that stupid ass movie?” Indeed I did, and Jon stuck by me, saving for a new Sony PD-150.

Another year passes. Now I’m approaching 16. I’m thinking about colleges and still dreaming of someday making my long, dumb, Troma movie.

And one day, there it was. The Ten Pounds camera. Bought used for a great price. We shot a couple of shorts with it and… it suddenly wouldn’t turn on. We cracked it open and bam. Salt water in the camera. There’s no return policy. We’re boned.

Almost another year passes before Jon finally buys the camera the movie was REALLY waiting for – the DVX100. The messiah of indie feature filmmakers. My friends were shocked when I called them all to meet up on the first day of shooting: March 22nd, 2003. My girlfriend’s family owned a funeral home, and that’s where we were shooting. A Japanese character was in this particular scene, and our high school had some Okinowan exchange students in town. And since we honestly had no Asian people of any shade in our town or school, we asked the only male exchange student, Tamoya, if he’d like to be in the movie. I don’t think he knew what we were asking, but we showed up to his host’s house at 5am, stole him, brought him to a funeral home, gave him a sword, and made him be in a bloody, weird movie.

Fuck. I REALLY hope he thinks that’s how America is for the rest of his life.

Next week, part III!

The Making of a Tromadance Winner, by Frankie Frain PART I

A while ago, Brad had covered a film called "Psycho Sleepover", which was done by a couple of friends of his and, shortly after that, we were contacted by one of the actors in the film - a guy by the name of Frankie Frain. If you're interested, Frankie played Ugly Jen in the film, but Frankie's also a filmmaker and a writer, himself. Not only that, his first film won the best film at Tromadance 2006. Oddly enough, before I talked to him, I'd read about his second film and it was on my list of films that I wanted to see. His first film is called "I Need to Lose Ten Pounds" and his second film is called "A-Bo the Humonkey", both are classics... in the same vain that early Troma films are classics. Anyhow, after a brief back and forth, Frankie was willing to write an article for the site, which I was pumped about... however, what I got back was no average article, it was a hilarious, 6-page look into the mind of an indie filmmaker and the process in making an award winning film. So, I decided not to waste it in one post. Instead, once a week until it's done, I'm going to post parts of the story. Then, when it's all done, I'll link to it in its entirety. So, without further ado, here, folks... is Part I of "The Making of a Tromadance Winner, by Frankie Frain"

I began writing my first feature, Tromadance 2006 winner I Need to Lose Ten Pounds, when I was 14 years old. I, like so many out there, was inspired by Troma films and B-horror (well, B-anything really. If it was cheap and shitty, I seemed to like it) and not only felt that I could pull off the same production value easily enough, but could comically embrace the film’s inevitable shortcomings. Between this and being chiefly inspired by Cannibal! The Musical and The Toxic Avenger (neither of which were really horror films – they just sort of fit in well with that crowd. Cannibal was more like a Rogers and Hammerstein picture and Toxic Avenger was ultimately more like a brutal superhero flick), I ended up making a musical comedy adventure film about a fat kid named Miguel who’s being chased by Richard Simmons. Oh, and his brother has leprosy and his best friend is a whore factory owner named Silly Waunka. Retarded enough idea for you? Clearly, the content of the film did not and would not take itself seriously…

…but fuck, the effort did. Imagine if you will: A 14-year-old idiot calls his best friend.

“Will, we should write a movie about like, fat people and put all our fat friends in it.”

For some reason we had a lot of fat friends.

“You think they’d be offended?”

“That’d be gay if they were. So wanna write it?”

“Sure.”

“Okay, awesome – we should be able to use my parents’ camera and I think you can edit on computers now, so let’s just do that.”

“Um, okay.”

“But if we say we’re going to do it, we really shouldn’t work on anything until THIS is done. Like, I want to make sure we finish this one, because it’s really funny.”

“We JUST thought it up in like, ten seconds Frankie. It’s not that good of an idea.”

A year passed, but we slowly wrote it. It was sloppy and my co-writer was never much into it anyway, but that strangely made the comedy that much more cheap and innocent and invariably that much more fun. This was also 2000: the technology was younger than I was, almost too young to get an editing system running. But begrudgingly, and understandingly dubious, my group of little friends agreed to help in the effort. And we totally screwed ourselves by just writing anything that came into our cute little heads. Special effects, big locations (and LOTS of them), a large cast, musical numbers, whatever – if you read that original script, you’d think we were wealthy little fuckers. We weren’t. We really weren’t. Why did we do this? The same reason we were making a feature in the first place – we were too stupid to realize it was all impossible.

Next week, part II!