Parting is sweet, not sorrow, after five months of filmingThat's a wrap!
Thank goodness. Three sweeter words I have not heard in five months, which is how long ago the movie I've been working on began filming. Three countries, three seasons, and countless weeks later, we're finally done. Our crew of some 200 souls has endured the sultry heat of America's Deep South, the freezing cold of the mountains, the quiet beauty of a 16th century spa resort, and the bustling excitement of a major European capital. And I think I can speak for most of the crew when I say...we can't stand each other anymore. Can't get out of town fast enough. A lot of folks aren't even sticking around for the wrap party. Highly unusual, as most crewmembers never forgo an opportunity for free food and beer.
It's not really that bad. We've had lots of laughs. And good memories. But we began to grow weary of one another in one particular location where we worked, ate, partied, and slept in the same hotel. For six weeks! There was simply no escape. The hallways, the cafe, the gym, the bar - even the small village surrounding us - were always teeming with crewmembers. Only two decent restaurants existed in the area, so naturally one encountered coworkers there, too. Every single night. It's strange to work a 12-hour day - and then simply go up one floor to be "home." And you can imagine the gossip. Kind of hard to keep "road romances" secret when one is so easily spotted paddling down the hall to someone else's room. The lack of privacy made for plenty of conversational fodder at breakfast.
After packing and unpacking a few dozen times, riding on six planes, and always ending up in a room without a view, I'm considering going legit. No more life on the road. Taking a real job. With an office.
But I won't. Working on a film crew is a fascinating experience. For the publicist, it offers a great opportunity to witness and document a uniquely concentrated effort by people from very diverse backgrounds, with varying personalities, incomes, and duties. A human ant farm. Sometimes you get along well with the ants, sometimes you don't.
But after spending most of every day for nearly five months with the same group of people, you can't help but feel a certain bond, along with a sentimental pang of separation anxiety, knowing you will likely never see most of these people again.
And I can't keep this grin off my face...
Lawrence Mitchell Garrison is an LA-based freelance publicist and writer