The rest of the actors were compiled through equally eclectic means. Caleb Moody was cast as the lead Stryder after we met him at a party and he refused to speak to us unless it was through a thick—and potentially offensive—Scandinavian accent. Non-actor friends of ours rounded out the rest of the quadruplets, and the role of Dawn, the wife character, was given to the bartender of a club we used to frequent, I think, honestly, because we all wanted to date her.
With the cast set and Siaka shacked up on our living room couch, we began focusing very intensely on the logistics of the production, figuring out how exactly we were actually going to pull it all off. It was at this point that parts of the script—simple words on a page—became incredible obstacles, most of which were not secured until days before the scheduled shoot dates. Gaining full access to a high school track was on top of that list. We had scouted several stadiums in the area and had gone through the proper channels with a few of them, only to be met each time by someone kindly informing us that they’d be happy to reserve the track for our shoot, just as long as we presented the proper permits and a few thousand dollars a day. Desperate, we spread the word to all of our friends in hopes that they might have better connections in the Los Angeles school districts.
Dan Dejesus (Sound), master mixer.
Around this time, we had also, nervously, decided to shoot 35mm. It came from a conversation between Justin and I, each of us admitting to ourselves that we had no choice but to make this film as good—and as professional looking—as we possibly could. We were well aware that we might never get this opportunity again and agreed, out loud, that we were both willing to sacrifice anything and everything in order to see it through. This, I’d come to find out, would mean selling my car.
Damian, pleased with the news, was hanging out with us fairly often. We would mainly flip through William Eggelston images and watch movies that tended to use a lot of wide-angle lenses. He seemed to have a solid grasp on the look of the film, and now, knowing the medium, was able to tell us what equipment he’d need—not least of which was a Panavision camera. Having an established, respected DP on your side is an extremely valuable tool for an independent filmmaker. Damian personally knows the higher-ups at Panavision from his consistent commercial and music video work, and with his name we were able to secure a camera through their “New Filmmaker Program,” a grant that aims to help independent filmmakers by giving them access to 35mm equipment for extremely cheap, if not free (contact your local Panavision office for more information). The film stock was purchased at various resale shops around town (The DR Group, Media Distributors, etc.), and, in order to keep costs as low as possible, was compiled primarily using recans and short ends. Damian had also introduced us to some friends of his who were not only willing to Grip for $100/day but also had connections with local Grip and Electric rental houses, allowing us to get all of our gear for extremely cheap (check out http://www.woodennickellighting.com).
This golf cart was stolen from a nearby baseball field. It worked pretty well as a dolly.
In the week before shooting, with the cast and camera department completely solidified, we turned our attention to some of the more detailed aspects of the shoot. Costumes and props were slowly acquired from Goodwill or Ebay, hot tubs were stolen from the trash piles behind pool shops, rooms in our apartment were converted to shooting stages. Most importantly, perhaps, was our art director who, at the time, worked for Nickelodeon, supervising the storage warehouse for all of the shows that were not in production. We had access to all of the set dressing we would ever need.
