But today, I did nothing towards my project. Call it a lieu day, call it a day off, call it I-can't-believe-how-much-other-
real-world-stuff-I-had-to-cram-into-today. Of course, in saying I had a day without progression of my film doesn't mean I actually had a second where I haven't been thinking about it(actually, that kind of sounds like the next movie project that popped into my head yesterday, but that's a story for another time).
Truth is, it never leaves my mind, besides a few random moments here and there, I think about this picture all the time. Think about the small tweaks in dialog, or remembering to put a crucifix on the rear view mirror, how to shoot this, which camera where, and of course, what the hell am I going to call this thing?
So instead, starting today, and continuing any other day I may have like today, where nothing really happens, is my recollections of a time nigh five years ago, where I was once again squaring up to make my horror feature directorial debut. A little section I like to call...
Where Did It All Go So Wrong
or The Making of Cherry Tree Hill
or The Making of Cherry Tree Hill
As previously mentioned, one sunny summers day, my friend told me about a house he had to paint etc, way out west in Kandos. A big empty house.
'Sounds like a good place to make a movie.' my first thought vocalized.
'That's why I'm telling you,' he replied.
'Course, with a whole empty house, we need to make it a feature.' And with those fateful words, which reflecting upon was so very stupid indeed, the project soon to be known as Cherry Tree Hill was born.
The first point of call was to take the road trip out to the location, a gentle four hour drive we took that very afternoon. On the drive out there, we passed an incredible derelict house at the top of a hill (yes, Cherry Tree Hill as it would turn out) that I was driving way too fast to see, but slowed down for a good sticky beak on the way back.
There was also this amazing decrepit train station on the drive out. Some seriously messed up stuff in the rooms in there. All of which, of course, I shot and cut into the opening credits, which we'll get to see more of in the weeks ahead.The empty house in Kandos, actually its neighbouring town of Rylstone, was kind of moody. Took a bunch of photos and video, started seeing some ideas come to mind, and headed home.
I went back there the following afternoon, to the derelict house on Cherry Tree Hill. There were cows on the property, fully fenced, so it still obviously belonged to someone. The nearest house, about two kilometers away, seemed the best bet to at least know who the owner was. And so, just on sunset, my (then) girlfriend and I went knocking on the door.
When I heard the rifle cock, I should have just turned away then.
Bill was a generational farmer, and everything he did to a specific time, and in a specific way, and I don't think he had ever had anyone randomly knock on his door. So I can kind of understand his caution.
If not for the young blond standing behind me, that choice of location would have been off the cards. As it turned out, we were invited in and stayed for about half an hour (being about 35 minutes longer than comfortable, but at least he put the rifle away) where I asked him a few questions about the house, while he directed all of the answers to my girlfriend.
Finally, we left, having been given permission to check it out right now, and return in a few days with a little location contract and a not so little amount of cash.
It was all worth it. The house was perfect. Everything was old and falling apart, except for all the main walls and some of the floor was still visible. It was some kind of dumping room for very random tools and machinery, there were planks hanging from the ceiling, holes in walls and the floor. In other words, it was absolutely perfect. I snapped as much as I could, and we headed off.
The next step was to make the usual calls to my regulars, get them on the look out for some extra talent, and then it was time to work on the script, as shooting was to take place in about four or five weeks. The following night, myself and three collaborators sat down at the pub for some easy beers and some serious brainstorming. Perhaps it was more bouncing my ideas off others, getting the instant feedback and appropriate changes being made on the spot. Earlier that day, I'd jotted a few ideas down that involved a house in the country and only a small cast.
My initial idea was not a horror, in fact a drama. It involved two escaped convicts, who had been incarcerated for a fairly small-ish misdemeanor. They were to hide out in this abandoned house while things blew over, and took up work picking fruit or something nearby. One of the convicts had learnt the error of his ways, and with a love interest blossoming, he looked set on the road to recovery. But the other one it seemed, had been arrested for something well below his usual ghoulish standards, and before long, after passing a stranded schoolgirl and a derelict house on the way back from picking fruit, things started to go drastically downhill.
After spilling out what I thought to be a strong enough idea, the group disagreed with me on a few points. Firstly, shoot what you know. And I'd not really shot a drama before, and I also knew for a successful low budget drama, the script has got to be great. So I conceded. However, I liked my opening visual of the escaping convicts, and we went from there.
That night, we came up with what was to be the majority of the film. Or at least, so I thought. The story goes a little like this. Two convicted murders/rapists escape the nearby maximum security prison, with a little help from their Driver. The three take shelter in what looks to be a deserted derelict house. At the same time, a sister with her older brother and his wife, travel back to their childhood home, to go over the last of their recently deceased mother's estate. That night, amongst other things, they talk about the old abandoned shack on the outskirts of their property. They decide to check it out the next day. When our three heroes arrive and explore the shack the following day, they find the two escaped convicts mutilated. All hell breaks loose when a 'monster' is revealed living in the house, which of course, turns out to be the hero's older, deformed and discarded sister, who has been starving since the passing of her mother.
We had the scenes planned out, the rough dialog sorted and all the main points worked out. So I went home and over the next night, wrote it out completely. I knew there wouldn't be time to revise and review too many drafts, so I was tough as I could be and made every line count. And then, five pages before I knew the end would come, I stopped and checked the page count.
25.
25 pages?! Maybe 30?! I looked over it and over it but there was no way around it. It was wayyyy too short. Back to the drawing board.
The initial reason the convicts were there was to add some fear to our monster villain. If she could slaughter these two hard-as-nails criminals, then she must be some tough nut to crack. That went out the window. I found a much more human villain in one of the convicts and his escape from death was easy to write in. Regardless to say, with the added villain, an added location ( a friend's family had just bought a vineyard nearby), the driver taking everyone hostage and the arrival of some strange real estate guy, I had a movie. only 55 pages, but I figured I could spread that out with some of those tense horror movie moments.
Man did I think wrong.
Next time on Where Did It All Go So Wrong, I will go onto all that pre production glory of when things were really actually starting to look up, like how to get free brand new clothes for your talent and other such random calls I can't believe I found the guts to make.
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