Word Power

Do words have power? Do they pose a risk to us? Are they dangerous? Malevolent? The right words in the right place are all of these things, plus more. And we're not talking about secret words, not trade secrets or issues of national security. We're talking about normal, everyday words. The manifestations of our thoughts. The places where our the hearts and our minds lead. Where our bodies follow. Words have power. They can bring down governments. Overthrow tyrrants. Make you fall in love. Or laugh. Or cry. Be wary of words. Words have power. They can fuck up your whole life. Just ask Arash Sigarchi or Mojtaba Saminejad.

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Decisions

You know you've made the right decision to turn down a job directing a commercial when:

1. It's exactly the same people that screwed up last year's attrocity.
2. One of the producer's ideas for Harmony Week is a scene involving a burning flag.
3. The 1st AD doesn't know what a call sheet is.
4. The DoP doesn't think they need a call sheet on a project that is shot over three days using seven locations and a cast and crew of ten.
5. None of the actors have done any acting before.
6. The script involves a sparking electrical cable.
7. Western Power don't want to be involved.
8. One of the actors pulls out six hours before principal photography is due to start due to a religious belief.
9. The grip has pulled out, because he hasn't been paid by the producer for a past production, and hasn't told anyone on the production team.
10. The commercial was designed by committee.

Blood from a stone

The scenario:
You need to see a lawyer.
You have some contracts you want checked.
You're a cheapskate.

For the last hundred-thousand years you've seen the same sign on your way to the production house each day. Legal advice. $20 for 20 minutes. You think, 'It shouldn't take 20 minutes to check a 3-page contract.' So you go in to inquire.

The elderly lady at the reception desk ignores you for the first five minutes. That's despite having looked right at you as you entered the otherwise vacant room, two massive coughing attacks on your part in a vain attempt to attract her attention and several excuse me's. You only spring into her consciousness when somebody else - an entire extended family actually - enters the room.

"Hi, I'd like to have a contract checked for a [insert explanation], can I do that here and what's the procedure?" you ask.

"You make an appointment," she says primly, then proceeds to tell you that the next available slot is in two days time. You hurriedly agree because her eyes are once again showing a vacant sheen and you're not sure you want to wait until someone else enters - can fit into - the now crowded room. You leave, thinking that for a $20 lawyer you'd have waited at least another 5 minutes.

Two days later you arrive on time to discover another old dear at the desk. She recognises you straight away. She asks you to fill out some forms, pay over your $20 and explain once again what you need done. She then asks you to wait on the couch until the lawyer arrives.

The lawyer arrives and she leads you into her room. There's a 4th year law student there as well to observe. You explain again what you need done and hand over the contracts. The lawyer frowns. "I'm not sure I can do this," she says. She hmms and hahs a few times, goes out to see if someone else is qualified to check it instead, returns to tell you that nobody is, sits down and grabs the yellow pages. She provides you with a pamphlett featuring a list of names - of recommended 'proper' lawyers - as well as a seemingly random name picked from the phone book.

"Where do you live," she asks.

"South Perth"

"Is that near the city?"

It's about now you start to realise that the $20 is for the copy of the DVD you'll receive featuring the highlights of some legal version of Candid Camera - of which you will be one of the stars.

The law student pipes up, "It's just across the river."

"I'm from Queensland," the Lawyer says.

And that pretty much sums up the entire scenario. The lawyer. The little old lady. The $20. Queenslanders have come west and set up shop hoping to cash in on our booming economy. You wonder why she didn't tell you that when you entered. It would have been so much quicker and far less confusing. Perhaps a sign on the doorway: WARNING: This area may contain banana-benders. Enter at your own risk. They could also be forced to wear a tag or declare it during introductions.

"Hi, my name is Joe and I will be your lawyer for this evening. Under the Mental Health Act of 1972 I am required to tell you that I was born a Queenslander but I have been in remission for three years now."

All this has taken about five minutes and you're finished.

"Do I at least get a discount?" you ask.

And that's when it happens. That small thing that a religious person might have called a miracle.

"I don't think you should have to pay at all."

Blood from a stone.

I've just added a link on my PLUG homepage to some basic details about a couple of short films I've recently made. Be warned clicking on the posters leads to a large image.

At the moment I'm neck-deep producing a television series on computers, the hardware and software, and the people that use them. It's a real challenge. While I've made quite a few documentary episodes for tv it has always been under the wing of a senior producer. This time I'm the senior producer. Which is great up until the shit starts to hit the fan and then everyone is looking either to nail your arse to the wall or hoping that you'll throw them a safety line. Like one of our segment producers having a nervous breakdown and being unavailable for the rest of the series. It means I have to take up the slack. Do all his stories as well as my own. It's something I can handle I just wish I didn't have to. I can handle it. No really, I can. *twitch*