Part 2-of-3:
by Gabrielle Mullem
Published February 10, 1997
FADE IN: It's 1994. I graduate from Tulane University with a degree in Psychology and a crazed but persistent fantasy of becoming a filmmaker. Before taking out a substantial loan to attend graduate school in a field I know almost nothing about, I decide to get some work on a movie and evaluate reality.
***
I had a good lead. A visit to the "Dead Man Walking" set in New Orleans had put me in contact with a production assistant (PA) named Scott, who promised to help me get on the crew of the next big picture coming to New Orleans a pricey remake of "Lolita."
"Lolita" was several months away from starting production and I knew I didn't really have anything on my résumé that said "suitable for hire." I decided I needed to get some experience, so I faxed every production office listed in the trade papers, expressing desperate desire to do whatever needed doing. A friend in NY suggested checking out the technicians list published by the NY Film Commissioners office. Bingo. Off to the Big Apple.
The feature I got was "Walking and Talking" a six week shoot on a female director's first picture. It sounded like a good learning situation. What I hadn't realized was that I had bumbled into a great opportunity that hundreds of film-school grads would kill for. The film was being produced by a company called Good Machine, an independent outfit that had put together such movies as "Eat Drink Man Woman" and "The Brothers McMullen." As it turned out, another Good Machine film, "She's the One," was sharing office space with "Walking and Talking" so I was meeting twice the number of film people I normally would. I later discovered that Good Machine and another outfit called the Shooting Gallery offer tremendous internships (unpaid, of about four months duration, and highly competitive) that not only teach production office basics, but also provide great contacts for getting paying jobs.
On my first day, I woke up with so much nervous anticipation that I accidentally ripped my left contact lens. My glasses long since lost, I had no choice but to live with the impairment for a few days. Besides, I found I could see straight if I kept the bad eye shut. However, when William the Production Coordinator handed me keys to a big van and instructions to New Jersey, I found myself in an uncomfortable position. Driving in NY was unnerving, especially in my Popeye-esque condition. But there wasn't anyone else to do the job and I wanted to be useful, so...
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