My First Reel
Centuries ago, when my hair was still black, my knees didn’t hurt, and I was trying to create a career for myself as a young steadicam operator, I got word that a cinematographer named Adam Kane – who some friends of friends of friends knew – was looking for a Steadicam operator for a feature.
I had bought my heavily used antiquated Steadicam a year or so prior and had been trying to figure out how to use it by working on anything that would allow me. Mind you, this was long before digital, so, since things were shot on film and everything took a long time, I had nothing to show for my work, nothing that I could use to convince anyone that I knew what I was doing (which in truth, I didn't).
Somehow, I found Adams' phone number and called him to try and see if I could get on the gig. A feature. My dream. Oh, to actually work on a full movie, or part of a movie, something that could actually be in a theater.
I can’t remember the exact details, but I do recall that he told me that I could drop something off for him to look at. I told him that I was waiting on a ton of footage to get my reel together (a complete lie) and that I had some things that were on odd formats that I was presently getting transferred (another complete lie), so I wasn’t sure what I could show him. He mentioned that anything would be good; he didn’t care about the quality, just so he could see if I knew what I was doing.
I hung up the phone and started to try to come up with an idea and, before I knew it, I was at Circuit City buying the cheapest VHS camcorder they carried (Circuit City had a 30-day return policy and I couldn’t afford to buy a camcorder, so, you get the picture….sorry, Circuit City).
I loaded my old Steadicam into the back of my trusty 160K miles young Subaru, along with the new CamCorder – which needed to stay pristine so I could return it – and headed down south to see my friends, Matt and Augie.
That night, I pulled up to an old apartment building in Burbank, knocked on the door, and met Adam for the first time. He was the same age as me, so his apartment was similar to mine; the trappings of a young hustling filmmaker who definitely hasn't made it. I had expected to hand him the tape and leave, but he asked me in and said we should watch it.
As he loaded the VCR and it whirred to life, I started to think of all the excuses I should make, but thankfully said nothing more than “As I mentioned, my reel is being cut, so I just recorded some moves to show you what I was capable of.”
I took a seat and gulped as the screen came to life. What started to play was a 1-minute clip of me doing roundy-rounds, circling my two high school friends, backs leaning into each other, one with an acoustic guitar in hand and one with a fake microphone, lip-syncing to the John Cougar Melencamp song, “Jack and Diane”.
It was embarrassing, horrible and really, really amateurish, but 5-minutes later, I had the job. As we all know, The Double O Kid was the big movie that summer (not) and the Chill Deal Boyz “Make Ya Body Move” music video he called me for after that was the talk of the town for months and years to come (also not).
Adam and I went on to work together for years, making many movies, shared a house together for a while, and stood in at each other's weddings. He’s still a valued friend and now an incredible Director/showrunner. And it all started with that stupid little tape.
I don't know what happened to that videotape, but, damn, I wish I still had it. Funny, that everything that I have I really owe to Matt, Augie, and John Cougar Mellencamp. Thanks, guys.
Lesson learned? Do the best you can and hope it will be good enough, but doing something is going to get you farther than doing nothing. Oh, and surround yourself with good friends who will do anything you need to see you reach your dreams.
