David M. Green: Purveyor of fine humour

Category: movies

  • 10 tips for working in show biz

    As I quickly approach a decade of dabbling in “The Biz”, I find myself pausing for a moment and doing a double take at all the crap I’ve done. And I use the word “crap” in the most positive sense. As in, “Hey, check out all that crap”.

    I’ve worked with lots of people. Many of them lovely. Many of them talented. Many of them just once. I’ve been on both sides of the camera and the mic, and pressed about a billion buttons.

    And even though I’m just 26, every time it looks like I might be turning a casual gig into a career, I discover there’s a new way you can lose a job. Hence I’ve learned a few important lessons in my time. Lessons I would like to share with you.

    So whether you’re a veteran of the entertainment industry, a bright eyed wannabe or someone who wouldn’t leave the security of your suit and cubical to touch a microphone with a ten foot boom pole, here are some handy tips for working in show biz:

    1. Tell people what they want to hear.

    The best way to get ahead in the glamorous world of show biz is by making everyone happy. Don’t disappoint anyone. Ever. Was it a good show tonight? Absolutely! How’s my hair? Sensational! Are you sure you’ll be able to edit all those scripts by yourself by tonight? I sure am!

    Remember, promises are cheap. It doesn’t cost you anything to make a promise. Make as many as you can as fast as you can. Don’t stop for any reason. No promise is too ridiculous. Just make sure you can blame someone else if whatever you promised doesn’t just happen on its own. Make sure you lie on your CV too.

    2. Show up late, or not at all.

    Call times are just a guide. If you’re told to turn up on set at 8AM, that just means you can set your alarm for 8AM. Don’t bother factoring in travel time or traffic. Feel free to stop for petrol or a coffee on the way in. And take the scenic route – after all, you don’t want to be stressed when you arrive just after 10.

    Production managers factor all these things in when they write the schedule. They hate it when you turn up early. So turn up late. And they usually schedule more people than they need. So no pressure to turn up at all if you’ve got a better offer. No need to even call. You’ve got to look out for number one because hey, who else will?

    3. Don’t waste producers’ time.

    Producing anything is a tough, grueling, thankless job. Especially television. The last thing a time poor producer wants to hear is some lackey asking permission to use the bathroom or eat in the studio or record an iPhone video during a take. Just do it. The less they know you’re even there, the better.

    4. If you break it, keep it secret.

    If you find yourself using a piece of equipment you haven’t been trained on (See Lesson 1) and inevitably end up breaking it, best to keep it to yourself. The next person to use it will probably discover the problem anyway. And most likely just in time for an important shoot.

    5. Don’t bother replying to emails.

    So much communication is done via email these days. Emails are a dime a dozen. No one seriously expects you to acknowledge every single email a producer sends you. Hell, they don’t even expect you to READ them. So don’t worry if you just want to select all and delete. An empty inbox will mean your porn streams faster.

    6. Give out phone numbers.

    Everyone in show biz has a mobile phone. It’s by far the fastest way to get in contact with anyone. So if you come across the phone number of someone important, write it down, save it, and give it to anyone who asks for it. Crew phone numbers, executive phone numbers and ESPECIALLY talent phone numbers.

    You’re even well within your rights to ask for a few bucks when giving out the phone number of someone semi-famous. Why not trade it for a favour or a job? Remember, there’s no right to privacy in show biz. If Russell Crowe didn’t want people calling him anytime 24/7, he wouldn’t hand-write his digits on a business card and leave it in his agent’s locked briefcase.

    7. Steal.

    It’s a tough business, show business. So give yourself a helping hand and help yourself. A catering table is the industry’s gift to YOU. Keep coming back for more, especially if you’re not even working on the shoot.

    But don’t stop there. Steal anything you can get your hands on. Equipment, footage, other people’s ideas. “Ideas” don’t belong to anyone. Use them immediately for yourself or stow them away for a few years. And invest in a pair of bolt cutters. They’ll pay for themselves after the second or third locker.

    8. Don’t bother with back-ups.

    Delete footage and data once you’ve used it, especially emergency back-up stuff. Holding on to raw footage is a waste of time. Save over it or get rid of it. You’ll never need it. Neither will anyone else. Don’t even keep it “just in case”. Keep your hard drive free for more porn.

    9. Act like a big star.

    If you want people to take you seriously in show biz, you have to act like a big star. People respect jerks. So make outrageous demands. And don’t bother to remember people’s names, particularly subordinates you’ll never encounter again in the future. They should be happy just to be sharing the same oxygen as you. Make no mistake, you’ll be the most respected camera operator in the studio.

    10. Sleep with anyone and everyone.

    Fuck everyone! This is show biz! Sex brings cast and crew together. So sleep with all of them. Especially people you’re going to be working closely with in the future. And remember, wrap parties are easy picking 😉

    So get out there and schmooze, lie, cheat, steal and sleep your way to fame and fortune in the greatest business of all.

    Oh and if you’d like to learn more about television, look out for 31 Questions. Season 2 debuts on C31 Melbourne and Geelong Saturday July 27 8.30PM.

    Kind regards,
    David M. Green
    Purveyor of fine humour.

  • It’s high time James Bond came to Australia

    Australian James Bond

    Skyfall is out now (not in Australia)!

    I’m a big Bond fan.

    Favourite Bond film = GoldenEye.

    Favourite Bond actor = Roger Moore.

    I’ll watch a Bond film no matter where it’s set. But I reckon it’s about time 007 visited Australia. I should write something on this exact topic… oh wait, I already did!

    Ha-ha-have a look at this thing I wrote for The Punch: Bond should go down under, and I ain’t talking about ladies.

    All my good gags are over there.

    Kind regards,
    David M. Green
    Actually, I was talking about the ladies.

  • You’re terminated. (Get the movie reference?)

    Greetings,

    David M. Green. How do you do?

    Been another one of those crazy weeks. Had something in particular happen to me that I considered not mentioning on this, my website, but I came to the conclusion I simply had to. Plus it’s just easier to put it here so I don’t have to keep repeating it to everyone. The following is completely true.

    For just under three months I’ve been working at the Cinema Nova on fabulous Lygon Street, Carlton.

    On Tuesday, I was fired.

    Regular readers may recall I walked in there one day in January with my resume and I was literally hired on the spot. This can be credited to my unblemished 12 months at the Palace Nova Cinema in Adelaide.

    I began officially working at the Cinema Nova February 17. At the end of my second shift the manager (aka “The Big Cheese”) took me aside and said, “It’s like you’ve never worked in a cinema before,” and, “If you don’t lift your game I’m going to have to let you go”. When I asked what the problem was, all he offered was my lack of “oomph”. When I asked for him to be more specific, his response was, “No, I’m just going to keep it vague at this point.”

    “The Big Cheese” later clarified he said this to me on my second shift “to put the fear of God into me”. Because that makes a productive employee, doesn’t it? Constant fear of termination.

    Last Friday, I got my first box office training shift. A coveted honour at Cinema Nova. When I arrived I saw “The Big Cheese”. I thanked him for the shift. His reaction was, “Well, I hope you realise this is your last chance to impress me, because it’s clear you’re not getting the floor and you’re obviously not enjoying it”. I had no idea what he was talking about.

    And this one, I loved. He said last week he’d heard a “report” that when I was standing at the podium (aka “the gate”) checking tickets and directing customers to the correct cinema, I turned to one of the other employees and asked, “Hey, am I supposed to be checking these tickets?” “The Big Cheese” then surmised, “If you’ve been here for two and a half months and you don’t even know how to check tickets, I don’t know why you’re still working here.”

    I responded, logically, by pointing out that it was obviously a throw away joke (I tend to make those, it’s kind of a habit you may have noticed), and that exactly, it doesn’t make sense that I would ask that after three months of doing it. Furthermore, how exactly would I even be able to direct customers to the right cinema if I wasn’t reading it off the ticket? It’s simply ridiculous.

    The box office shift went well. Of course, it was my first one there so I couldn’t possibly master all the vouchers and button combinations in a mere 90 minutes. I’m not sure exactly how I was supposed to “impress” “The Big Cheese” anyway, considering he wasn’t actually observing me.

    Tuesday I receive a phone call. It’s “The Big Cheese” informing me that after careful consideration, he’s decided “he’s going to have to let me go”. Naturally, I ask why. He says that my work performance is inadequate and there’s been “reports” that I’ve been rude to customers and don’t work well with the other staff.

    Now, when my Dad drove me to the airport back in February, he offered just one piece of advice to help me on my move to Melbourne. And that was: “Don’t take any crap from people.” And there was no better time to apply it than right then.

    So I told “The Big Cheese” the facts. In three months I’d never been late for a shift. I’d stayed back late on numerous occasions, most of the time for no additional pay, to finish work that needed to be done. I got along well with customers, often sharing a joke, and regularly received compliments, one of which was “Oh, a friendly Nova employee! That’s a nice change!” I worked well with the other staff, certainly had no problems brought to my attention. And I worked just as hard as everyone else.

    I also took the opportunity to point out a couple of qualms I had with his style of management. In the end, all he could say was, “Well I’m going to have to disagree with you there.”

    It’s simply absurd. I challenge anyone to call the other customer service jobs I worked at regularly and find someone who can say I wasn’t consistently competent and outstanding. I worked at the Palace Nova Cinema in Adelaide for a year. It was a fantastic job. I loved it and they loved me.

    So anyway, that’s it. I no longer work at Cinema Nova. I’m glad to be honest. I must say I found the culture of intimidation and fear – which actually amounts to a form of bullying, if you want to get technical (and legal, which lucky for them I don’t) – unappealing. Out of the major things in my life right now (uni, home, work) working at that cinema was what I least looked forward to, specifically because the whole time I worked there, I was constantly thinking, “Any moment now, I’m going to get fired.” Try working under those conditions. Life is too short. Especially as it’s a cinema, not a nuclear power station.

    I will of course miss the good friends I’ve made and it’ll be sad not to see them every week. Keep it real guys and gals. Thanks for those who supported me and stuck up for me. There were at least two people who didn’t. They know who they are. To them I say good luck. I’m sure you’ll go far.

    One thing positive I will say about Cinema Nova, they make great choc-tops. I’ll certainly miss those. I’ll also miss the free popcorn. Although I picked up a garbage bag full of it last week. That should last me a while:

    Feel free to share your stories of termination by commenting below.

    Kind regards,
    David M. Green
    Unemployed.

  • Someone up there likes me!

    Greetings!

    Last night I returned to Adelaide from 37 hours in Melbourne! I’ve definitely made the right choice to relocate for 2010. Let me give you the run down…

    The main point of the trip was to meet up with some people looking for flatmates (remind me to thank the guy who invented the Internet, I’m pretty sure it was Al Gore) and check out their places of residence. I checked out 3 places fairly close to the city (nothing locked-in yet, still pending decisions). Special thanks must go to former friend of a friend, and now legitimate friend (I would insert her name here but she wishes not to be identified for privacy reasons) for being my fabulous Melbourne hostess.

    It all started Sunday morning, 5am. I’m really not a morning person. Usually when I wake up before 9am I just feel sick. This was no exception. I drove myself in the dark to Adelaide Airport and parked in the long term parking lot. Luckily for me there was a shuttle bus waiting right there to take me to the main terminal. I don’t think I would have made the flight had it not been for that bus. In an incredible coincidence, “Ms Nameless,” who recently moved to Melbourne, but was back in Adelaide visiting friends, was returning to Melbourne and was on the exact same flight. However, as she was able to check in online (and my computer wouldn’t let me, for some reason… remind me to send a stern letter to Al Gore) she had a great seat up the front, which of course is the quietest and smoothest part of the plane, and I had to make do with a seat in the 2nd to last row at neither the aisle or window. We arrived at Tullamarine and caught the Skybus into the city. We then caught a train to her house in Altona (check Google Maps to see how far away that is. Although having been there now it’s not that bad). She shares the place with another guy (also nameless), also a former Adelaidean and enjoyer of fine Simpsons quotations. Here’s their house, which is pretty awesome I must say (on the inside of course. Can’t say I like the bricks. Orange is my least favourite colour for building materials. Give me those bricks that are so dark they’re black anyday… hoho mmm…):

     

    And get a load of the house directly across the street:

    It’s like someone beached a tugboat and converted it into some kind of “land shanty.” I imagine it’s the kind of house that “Adam” from On The Yacht would live in, if indeed he did live on land… But enough of these in-jokes.

    So anyway, “Altona Girl” freshened up and “Altona Guy” drove us to the famed Brunswick Street in Fitzroy for a quick lunch. I must say, from the 15 minutes I spent there, I could tell I was going to be back again and again. There are just so many places in Melbourne that look like an ’80s surburban lounge room with wood-panelled table-top arcade games. I couldn’t stay long as I had houses to check out, so I hopped a tram back to the city and checked out West Melbourne and Kensington. By this stage I was starting to realise how tired I was. It doesn’t matter if I have to wake up early. I still go to bed at the same time (1:30am-ish). This, combined with all the walking around was taking its toll. I went back to Altona and foolishly had fish & chips for dinner. I regretted it as soon as I finished eating. Should have gone for something healthier, but the smell was so tempting. I probably should have gone to sleep at that point but when the opportunity to watch Fletch on DVD comes along, I just can’t say no. Chevy Chases’s finest work, in my opinion.

    I was expecting to sleep on the couch but “Lady Unaknowledged” very kindly offerred her bed to me (not in a sexual way. Obviously then SHE would take the couch). I politely declined but then she pointed out how tall I was, and how short the couch was, so I agreed. However, she was a lot more tired than I was, and by the time Fletch was alluding LAPD in the stolen white Porche, she said she’d just go lie down and when I was ready to turn in, we’d “do swapsies.” I made it to the end of the film but by that stage “Madam” was fast asleep. I stood at her door pondering… but eventually concluded that I just couldn’t kick HER out of HER OWN bed. Call me sexist if you will, and many do, but I kinda had to “be a man” at that point and sleep on the couch. Indeed, I was about 30 centimetres too tall to sleep on it comfortably, so after 20 minutes or so I arranged the couch cushions on the floor and slept there. Pretty good actually. Hotels are for people who don’t have friends.

    Then it was Monday. I caught the train back into town. I must say the trains in Melbourne are so much smoother and faster than Adelaide, and a much more extensive network. Adelaide certainly needs to get its public transport act together. Checked out another house in Kensington, returned to the CBD to visit RMIT University, where I was recently accepted to study post-graduate journalism. Having never been there before, I was relieved to find it was a pretty excellent looking campus, right near pretty much everything. I got my student card and explored around. I found the RMITV office but it was closed. I shall return.

    I had a few hours to kill before my return flight, and I brought some resumes with me just in case of such a situation. Obviously I’ll be needing some sort of casual job in Melbourne. For the last year I’ve been working at the Palace Nova Cinema on Rundle Street. It’s been fantastic and I’ve really been dreading leaving and having to pay money for movies again. So I caught a short tram up to Lygon Street in Carlton to check out Melbourne’s premier art house cinema, the Cinema Nova. I introduced myself to the manager and handed him my resume. To my surprise, he literally hired me on the spot! Jesus, the first place I apply to! That really takes a lot of the stress of moving cities away now, knowing that I’ll have a job waiting for me. Now all I need is a place to live… But more on that later I suppose… And if all goes badly, “The Dame of Altona” says I can stay in Altona until I find something closer. They have a spare room!

    Ahh good fortune. It’s very… fortunate.

    Kind regards,
    David M. Green
    Like the number plates, “On The Move.” Or “The Garden State,” which ever is more relevant to my situation.

  • Time Travel IS POSSIBLE!

    I did it.

    Last Friday night, I successfully travelled back in time to 1984, when Jemima and I went to the Wallis Mainline Drive-in movie theatre in Adelaide’s fabulous northern suburbs!

    I hadn’t been to the drive-in since 1995, when my Dad took my sister and I to a Jim Carey double feature (The Mask + Dumb & Dumber) at what is now a housing estate opposite the Warradale barracks. But 48 hours ago I was living the in-vehicle outdoor cinema experience once again, sitting in my car watching Star Trek XI (great!) and Wolverine (ok) at the Gepps Cross drive-in with my best gal by my side. A fantastic date, ’twas.

    But it was also sad… The place was filled to perhaps 15% of capacity, and the staff, as well as the facilities, were aged long past the prime of their respected “hay-days.” The snack bar decor clearly hadn’t been updated since the place opened in 19(cough cough)8. Pastel shades of pink and blue and “candy” spelled as “Kandi” greeted the motor-movie patrons upon entry. Surprisingly, the prices were cheaper than what one would expect to pay at a traditional cinema, with a much larger range of confectioneries and hot foods too.

    Outside, waist-high white poles with red tops marked recommended locations to park and view. Some of them also featured broken and rusting speaker boxes, relics of a by-gone era, as the audio is now broadcast on an FM frequency and listened to via each car’s own audio system. As I’m not an idiot, I of course remembered to turn on the engine between the two movies, to avoid a flat battery. At least one other car forgot to do this. I imagine flat batteries must occur so often at the drive-in, I was surprised they didn’t have a warning during the previews. I was also pondering… I wonder, if one lived nearby the drive-in, theoretically one could “pirate” a movie’s soundtrack by tuning their radio to (I forget the frequency) and recording using a few blank cassettes? Would there be a market for bootleg audio cassettes of latest release movies? Something to listen to in the car perhaps?

    In conclusion, a good old-fashioned, wholesome fun night out, with movies, cars and plenty of frotteurism in the dark. I highly recommend it. The drive-in, that is. Obviously, bring your own car and girlfriend.

    Kind regards,
    David M. Green
    Enjoyer of fine Kandi