On a long enough timeline, the survival rate for everyone drops to zero.

Sorry I didn't post last night, we got our asses kicked and when I finally got home the Internet tikki decided I was Greg and wanted its rock back. I didn't have it, of course, but you know tikkis. So unreasonable when they're angry!

To the left are some photos of the Swedish countryside, which we drove into for an hour to get to a private manse that was incredibly cool. The drive actually made me happy, as I let my mind wander off into a very pleasing day dream about hunting with Ghost for pheasant. Ah, ignorance is bliss.

As usual, looks were completely and utterly deceiving and we proceeded to attempt in one day what would have been a week of work anywhere else. Crane, dolly, handheld, multiple track layouts, seventy-five extras, choreographed swimming routines, four different parts of the house to shoot in, and of course, it was cold by the time we got outside. It feels like we're on a music video most of the time, a music video directed by someone with grandiose ideas and a couple of questionable credit cards to finance the whole thing with.

Did I tell you there's usually only one grip on this job? A whole truck worth of shit and one guy. I don't know how Johnathan hasn't killed all of us by now. He got two extra guys today but only because he had to simultaneously build a twenty-five foot crane, push dolly, and set track. I guess production finally figured out he couldn't do it all at once. Many arms of Vishnu my ass! His guys sucked but were very pleasant. I got stuck with one good camera, two Aaton 35s, and some extra help that wanted to be on this movie even less than me. It was awesome. One loader, no seconds, two first ACs, and two operators who couldn't find the run button if you nailed their fingers to them. Did you know the Aaton 35 is the most useless hunk of shit in the world? It's not even heavy enough to be a boat anchor. Try attaching a remote focus receiver, wireless transmitter, and onboard monitor to that camera and actually have it work. Oh, they don't have any accessory cables for the Aaton here in Sweden so I had to power everything of a belt battery. Yeah, the monitor and the remote system were both powered off a belt which made the whole thing that much more Frankenstein looking. I wish I'd had a second to take a photo, it was ridiculous.

My other favorite deal was when we put my camera on a dolly, a good four feet off the ground on the shadiest platform ever built (think rocks, soup cans, and possibly a dead animal), and the DP decided we'd go to the other end of the track and then shoot across me and the dolly at the actors in the opposite direction. We didn't even really use most of the track because the arm was swinging wildly above it and on one take almost took my head off. No joke, I felt a cable hit my hat. What a way to go, skull caved in by a dread locked Swedish crane op in the middle of the night at a perfectly quaint country mansion. You can't even make this shit up.

Oh, and for the grand finale both power cables for my Arricam broke. The DP wanted to wear the belt battery and then kept walking off. Eventually the cable broke. Yeah! Our back up was apparently crushed at some point but no one bothered to tell me. Fuck yeah! After some soldering and cable cutting and swearing I managed to cobble together one semi-working cable out of our two mangled cables. Hell yeah! Good times, producer and director and DP and extras and crew all staring at you while you try to remember the one lesson you got in soldering cables together. I was so happy when the camera didn't explode. Who says a career in film isn't exciting and glamorous?

Anyway, I'm back at the Ikea yurt, no worse for wear, and ready to do it all over again. God help me, it's true.