MAKING THE FIRST ALL DIGITAL FILM


PART II: (PRE-) PRE-PRODUCTION


The art of film can refer just as often to the skill of knitting together the people and finance needed for a production as it does to the themes and ideas which a confusion of different talents, with their often-divergent views, bring to the screen. It’s been eternally claimed how much of a miracle is required for a film to be made, let alone ending up with something moderately entertaining or provoking. The industry devours so much cash that even low budget endeavours consume the efforts of an army of technicians, let alone the invisible amounts which evaporate through legal, insurance and years of development.

Of course, when you make an independent, international, treaty co-production you multiply the difficulties times ten!

One of the pleasures in traveling the world making movies is the cultures and individuals you work with, which are always a challenge and learning experience. The emphasis here is on working together. As writer / producers we approach every project with a distinct sense of authority as creators and manipulators - until reality smacks us and compromise becomes the key.

On Rainbow this originally saw production and financing designed as a UK / Canada / Germany co-production with all the subsequent national content and spend requirements to be faced - a series of governmental hoops to be jumped through which are seldom based on creative benefits. It often creates a bizarre series of abortive relationships which are only resolved by financial necessity.

That means story discussions turn out to be interesting.

Our film's narrative is kicked into gear when the young hero finds the end of the rainbow. One of the original partners suggested that perhaps the rainbow hides from Mikey, darting behind buildings in some elaborate show of hide and seek. Another idea posited was the audience never actually sees the rainbow, leaving it the imagination, a harsher approach that could reduce the budget. Both proposals were met with our stony silence.

Initially, financial necessity saw us develop the project out of Ealing Studios, a famous British institution and home to classic movies during the 1940s and 50s. As part of its survival in 1993, the stages and offices had been purchased by supplies company BBRK. A new direction and lease of life promised. We should have known there’d be trouble when the incompetent people at the helm pursued not the refurbishment of threadbare sound stages but a rebuilding of the main bar.

There was certainly generosity in the long, boozy lunches, yet very little in the way of business vision. Instead, hawks preyed on amateurism. Investment promised to us and deals to use the facilities never materialized.

However, during the stifling heat of the summer of 1994 it did become a base to bring together the creative team for “Rainbow” to discuss story and technology - and how we were going to conjure dreams into reality. Director / star Bob Hoskins, DP Freddie Francis and designer David L. Snyder were among those gathered to pick apart the art and mechanics as well as to interrogate Sony’s digital guru John Galt who we flew in from Los Angeles. Apart from the joy of simply talking ideas (what sweeter period can there be without the weight of physical and financial limitations), there was also the chance to work on storyboards and test the capabilities of the HD camera. A major debate was how to actually create a rainbow. It would be a discussion and struggle that would last even beyond the reshoots in California months after the shoot. In the meantime, we managed to visit a company specializing in laser displays and filmed a multi-coloured corridor of light, which eventually did become an element in the final visual effects. We also had the rather extraordinary experience of the Ealing special effects department proposing to use a miniature rainbow they had physically constructed and incorporate it with the location shoot in Montreal. It was the kind of bone-headed suggestion that summed up the decline at the facility and a potent sign that it was time to move on.

Apart from the well-stocked bar, the Ealing cafeteria was expansive and the food decent. Unfortunately, we also discovered that nearly everyone on the lot had been using the ‘rainbow’ account even if they had nothing to do with us. We had a fight over the bill. It was a shame. The initial plan was to shoot interiors on the fabled stages. In March of 1994, our long-running series Best Of British had finally ended its run on BBC1, a seven-year, sixty-seven episode look at the British film history between the 1930s and 80s. So, we knew all about the glories of Ealing’s past and it would have been a romantic ideal to reinvigorate the place with new technology and new ideas. A few months after we left, Ealing Studios imploded under debt and mismanagement. The individuals escaped. The lot needed to be rescued once again.

After so many sweating weeks in the art department, it was time to go to Canada, where the co-production had been ultimately established. Strangely enough, as a creative team, discussion over the digital technology we were about to pioneer was only about how it would benefit production. Freddie Francis was giddy with the potential. Most were genuinely enthused, although the camera operator was nearing hostility. There were bigger problems of course, in particular that finance was rapidly falling away with our German co-producer failing spectacularly to deliver and the Ealing connection crashing

With any evolving narrative, however, there’s always a background or a flashback to provide a way forward. In our case, it was provided by Marie Vine at the Cannes Film Festival in May. It always helps to have a sales agent who’s a genuine fan, who believes in a project as much as making the deals. The promotion was good, the sales spiel was even better and there was a script which received a positive reaction. There was even a live Q&A with Bob Hoskins beamed into a reception room at the Majestic Hotel for assembled buyers and journalists. Of course, that particular event suffered a customary technical blowout (a loss of picture, even as sound continued) that was eventually traced to a waiter tripping over a power cord and dislodging the plug from the wall socket!

Despite industry scepticism (especially from the U.S.), the end result from a few hectic days was a robust series of distributor sales and a bidding war between British companies that was resolved by a midnight meeting where we were questioned about the centrepiece rainbow ride. We had to ramp up our best pitch, though it’s always helpful when your audience wants to be convinced. By the early hours, we had a rich deal with First Independent that was an important foundation to financing the film, not just the money itself but the sense of confidence it gave everyone.

The Ealing art department had provided a solid base to spin fantasies. In fact, all movie art departments conjure up a relaxed, open atmosphere, although the result in this case was yet another re-write on the script. (Of course, whether it’s approached as a blessing or a curse, the evolving state of a screenplay provokes re-writes throughout production, even pushing into post-production.) Right now, however, in the height of summer, the schedule dictated for us to decamp to Montreal, storyboards and dreams still intact. The vital work of pre-production was about to commence, the real battles of creativity and finance ready to clash.

It was also time to prove digital filmmaking was a reality.