005. Making Stuff / Making a Movie
How I made my first feature film The Disposal of Dead Ned
To decide the topic this month, I posted a poll on my Instagram page, and the crowd voted. Now, I’m going to tell you about making my first (hopefully not my last) feature-length film, The Disposal of Dead Ned.
Let's go!
On set.
I've always wanted to make movies. It's what I initially went to college for. Instead, I found myself in journalism talking about news cameras. No, thank you. Not for me. I can appreciate camera specs but I didn’t want to learn how to work cameras… I wanted to tell stories. I switched my major to English—if I couldn't learn about filmmaking, maybe I could learn how to write films and figure out the filming aspect later. Some of my favorite filmmakers didn't attend film school: David Fincher, PT Anderson, and Wes Anderson. I was also convinced that maybe I could make a movie without the proper education because a group of people in the local punk scene were making movies around Kent called Speed Freak Productions. I was in high school when they were putting out the VHS horror movies they filmed (2002/2003): Teenage Zombie House Massacre, Midnight Skater, Demon Summer, and The Red Skulls. The fact that movies were being made, premiered, and produced on a low budget in Kent by people not much older than me was super inspiring.
Top: Key art for Midnight Skater and The Red Skulls. Bottom: Stills from Speed Freak Production films.
After realizing an English degree was also not for me (I was not/am not a great academic writer), I found the Visual Communication Design program at Kent State. I left the movie-making dream behind and fell in love with Graphic Design and Illustration. I did pretty good, graduated, and started my life as a freelancer. See the Downpour Studios sub-stack.
Fast-forward ten years from graduating college. I never stopped loving film or videography. I made music videos for bands, documentaries, and some short films, but I never reached the point where I made a "real" feature film.
One year, a small group of us did the Cleveland 48 Hour Film Fest and won the audience choice award for a horror movie musical, Son of a Witch. It was amazing seeing our work on the big screen and hear the laughter when the jokes hit. I felt like I had no other option… it was time to make a "real" movie.
To do that, I needed a script. And not just any script… I needed a script I could film that didn't require funding. All movies are expensive, but I had to figure out how to keep expenses down. And by down I mean basically nothing. I already had one kid (Norah) and another on the way (TBD—at this time, her name was between Fiona and Darla, but when she came out of the womb with her sassy little face we knew Darla was too sweet of a name. Fiona it was.)
Money was tight, and I didn't know the first thing about finding funding or investors. Honestly, I don't think I wanted to. I had never done a project this complex, and taking someone's money for something I might fail at seemed irresponsible. So, that was my first problem to solve… write a story that didn't require any money to film.
I asked myself what I had at my disposal (no future pun intended). I knew the music world well and had access to musicians, equipment, and probably a venue (or house to play at). I could make it about a band, and it would hopefully feel authentic and have some flavor—punk! I knew I wanted to do a dark comedy (I didn't have seasoned actors to pull off a drama, I didn't have the budget for a horror, and comedy can be very forgiving), so I started to write down things I found "funny" about the music world, but I still needed a big, catchy idea.
I actually don't know the exact moment I came up with the idea of a struggling band making a deal with a concert promoter to get rid of a dead body to play with a popular band, but part of that premise IS based on real events/people.
Back around 2003/2004 local bands used to have to work with sleazy concert promoters and sell a certain amount of tickets to be able to play larger shows. (I’m sure this is probably still true today). A production company called Hardcore Marketing would book popular bands and rely on smaller bands to sell a quota of tickets to play. My band did this once to play with Darkest Hour, Between the Buried and Me, and Cattle Decapitation at the Odeon. I think we had to sell 150 tickets. It was tough, but we did it. (We might have bought a bunch of our own tickets to make sure we played the show). We did it once and never again because it felt so scammy.
Two of the characters (Stumpy and Tommy) I wrote in Ned were based on the Hardcore Marketing guy. I think the whole dead guy thing came from Weekend At Bernie's and asking myself… what if Weekend At Bernie's was punk? The story was forming…
A struggling punk band makes a deal to dispose of a dead body in order to play the big show.
It sounded fun. It featured punk bands, a dead body, different humorous ways to dispose of the body, concerts, fails, stupidity, gross-outs, and different personalities in the band. We had finished the 48-hour film contest in October, and I wanted to film that summer, so I had to write the script quick.
After the script was "done" (it always felt like a first draft due to time constraints), I entered pre-production mode—planning film dates, getting my film equipment in order, any props I could afford, loose storyboards, actors, and location ideas. I needed to plan as well as I could because the summer would be a mess.
Above: Prop arm. Bottom: Our hitman’s suitcase full of torture devices, dirty mags, and pistol (air-soft).
Misty was pregnant with our second kiddo, we were building my outdoor studio and a mini-ramp, and Norah was only two years old. We had family vacations planned and I was working as a full-time freelancer.
Top: Misty, Bush, and I working on dry-walling the shed. Middle A: Misty about to burst. Middle B: Children—one old, one new. Bottom: Building the mini-ramp in and out of storming.
I finished the pre-production planning, Misty birthed a child, we built our mini-ramp, finished up the shed, got some generous friends to be actors, locked in local venues, borrowed band equipment, and scheduled our shoot days. It was going to be awesome.
The first day of filming fucking sucked.
We were shooting at a local bar and had it rented for the whole day and night. It cost $150, and even though I had filmed short films before, this experience was different. Time moved faster and slower at once. Every shot took forever, and time vanished. Our actors did great, but this was the first time I had ever tried used lights and actual sound recording. Each shot required setup, lighting changes, moving of props, sound checks. We had to talk about coverage and make sure we got everyone's lines on tape—if we missed a line, something else an hour later might not make sense. The margin for error was so much smaller than a short film.
I was also trying to be director and cinematographer at the same time. Big mistake. It was impossible for me to focus on getting lighting and shots right while also directing the cast, prepping for the next shot, making sure we were getting each line, remembering the order of shots, keeping time, ordering lunch, etc. I was failing at both, and we only had the venue and shoot time for one day, so the shots we were getting were final. Not knowing if I was doing good, bad, or awful was nervewracking and causing a lot of self doubt.
I was tired (spending the night before staying up super late making food for the cast and crew), confused, and slightly embarrassed at how shoddy the production was turning out to be. We started filming at 9 am and didn't finish until 3 am. We also almost didn't make it til 3 am. At around 11 pm, with a few more scenes to film, the bar owner showed up and told us we had to leave (we paid for the 24-hour rental) because he was going on a surprise trip to rehab and needed us out. We promised to lock up when we left, and he seemed okay with that, so we finished the shoot (much later than anticipated).
Top: Behind the scenes on set. Bottom: Still from the film.
The whole night was rough. There were injuries—Misty destroyed her hip on a corner of an amp, and an actor sprained his wrist on a stunt (the part where Stumpy and Tommy tip the chair over). I *think* everyone else was okay with how the night went, but I was super disappointed with the flow and worried the shots were going to be shitty. After filming, I sat by myself and thought about canceling the movie so as to not waste anyone else's time. It was a lot of work from everyone to have a product come out trash. On the other hand, it also felt disrespectful to have everyone invest their time and work to just cancel it after one day of shooting. We started the thing… now the goal was that I had to make sure we finished it.
Above: Misty’s dented hip. Poor quality photo, sorry.
And just like in the movies… our protagonist (the film) hit another setback. Remember that cool mini-ramp we built? Well, Dustin (one of our main actors) broke his leg on it. Isn’t that classic? Old men build a ramp and get hurt on it. Check.
Sidebar: Here's how tough Dustin is. He wrecked on the ramp, stepped off, and sat down, swearing he tweaked his ankle. He hung out all day while everyone else skated before finally asking for some aspirin. Dustin lives about four hours away from me. He was planning on staying the night, but at about midnight, he decided his ankle hurt too bad so, he would drive home and get it checked out. He drove back, assuring me he was fine, and got his foot checked out. It wasn't good. It wasn't just a little break. He broke his leg and ankle in multiple spots, tore tendons, really fucked it up. I’m talking surgery and pins fucked up.
Above: Dustin’s foot after getting pins put into his ankle.
True to who Dustin is, he kept with every film day over the summer. If you ever watch The Disposal of Dead Ned, you might notice that Dustin rarely moves in the film—all the characters walk toward him, or he's already in the scene, either standing or sitting. He couldn't walk, so what could we do? We made it work how we could.
We had another film day that revolved around all our Brimfield locations. We used a local bar (The Outpost) as a diner since it was the only place we could get with booth seats. We filmed at my parent's house (their basement, backyard, and road). It was extremely hot that day, and the heat got to me. I definitely got unreasonably cranky. Since we had a ton of shots at different locations, we were really on the move. We used green screens and actors to push the car like it was moving. We had makeup and special effects to do with the dead body and some doo-doo. We got my brother's father-in-law, an ex-highway patrol officer, to play our cop. As you'll see below, we also had Fiona (probably a few months old at this point) around all day—Misty pulled double duty of breastfeeding mom and assistant director. Even though it was blazing and I was cranky, we got a lot filmed that day.
First picture: Misty with Fiona before filming. Our film equipment and boxes of diapers. Second picture: Filming in parents back yard. Third picture: Our green screen “studio” to get our outdoor lighting right. Fourth picture: Band practice scene in my parents basement. I couldn’t afford diffusers for lights so we used shower curtains from Walmart.
Another shot that gave us a hiccup was a quick pick-up shot in Michelle's Bar parking lot. It's a funny little scene where the band finds dead Ned in their car. To make sure he's actually dead, they poke, prod, and kick him on the ground a bit before stuffing him back into the car. Unfortunately for all of us filming, it was the same day the Kent State gun girl was having a march on campus. About ten minutes into filming, two police cars blazed in and hopped out, guns drawn. I was super confused and stood still, telling them I had a contract that I was allowed to film the movie on the premises. The cops noticed the small DSLR we were using and lowered their guns. They told me a good citizen called in from across the street, claiming a few guys were beating someone up in the parking lot and threw them into the car like a kidnapping. I'm SURE it did look like that from across the street, and I think it's nice that someone cared and called in. We got scolded for not calling the police and clearing it with them (not sure why we would have done that… but okay) and finished our scene.
Still from the movie, just moments before cops pulled in.
There were more hiccups along the way—filming a whole scene on my porch only to realize the sound from the traffic was just too bad to use. We had to recast and re-film that scene in another location. We also had to cut two scenes we didn’t have time to film that I think were some of the best moments in the movie. We just didn't have the time to pull it off. Summer was ending, and schedules were about to get way worse. It had to be done.
We scheduled one of our most ambitious scenes toward the end of summer—the big concert with the big band. We got a popular local band to play the "concert," but they canceled a week or two before the shoot date due to personal reasons. We contacted a few other bands that were booked or couldn't make it. Luckily for us, American Werewolves agreed. The only problem, there wasn't really a band at the time. The singer, Trevor Moment, was down, but the other band members couldn't make it or were on hiatus… I forget. Either way, we decided to use extras from the movie and some of the cast to be band members. Whoever was in the band actually had to know how to play the instruments so the filming looked legit. We just put masks and wigs on them, so no one knew. Now you know.
The concert was really cool. We had another band open to get the party atmosphere going and film b-roll. Then we shot a bunch of takes of American Werewolves. We also got to see some giant ass slugs climb the speakers.
Top: Filming the concert/party scene. Bottom: Slugs!!!!
We filmed a few more scenes to finish the movie—one where I had to dig a grave. I thought I could do a legit grave pretty quickly. Wrong. By the time we needed to film, the grave was only a foot deep. It was a good thing this was a comedy and we could play to that—our inept punks give up after digging a shallow grave. Our last night of filming was in a parking lot in the middle of the night. All the actor's hair was longer than when we started (the movie takes place over a few days, filming took the course of a few months), I was tired, I'm sure the cast was tired of random pick-up dates, but we finally finished filming. We did the damn thing.
Top: My poorly dug grave. Bottom: Filming the digging of the poorly dug grave.
Now, the editing would begin. But I did have a helper with me the whole time. She was cute, wasn’t she?
Editing with the dog.
The editing went okay. I had done enough of it before to get through it, but I definitely learned a lot about sound. Parsing video together isn't easy (and is definitely an art form), but I had a little bit of experience. The editing of sound levels, ambient noise, foley, audio mixing… that was my biggest problem and what took the longest.
Once the movie was finished, I knew we had to have a premiere. I called around and got prices. Holy cow, it's expensive to rent out a theater. The movie only cost me around $500 (including props, location rentals, and food for cast and crew). I used cameras, lights, and mics I already had, so the asking price of $1000 and up for a theater rental seemed too much. I also didn't want to charge admission. I know it's not unreasonable to charge, but mix my insecurity of the quality of the movie with wanting people to come (people will show up if things are free). I was willing to eat some cost and not try to recoup it.
We found a spot I thought would hold enough people and that I could afford. There was also a funny little incident I made a comic about once for The Everyday.
The Everyday. Big Girl.
The spot was a community theater with a stage. The only hangup was that there was no screen or sound. Two things you need to play a movie are a screen and sound. No problem. The film was made with a DIY mindset, so I figured we could treat the premiere the same way… like a house show.
We built a screen out of some board I got from Home Depot and painted white. I borrowed a projector from a good buddy (shout out Andy Gasper) and used the PA from my old band. I can't believe the thing still worked—the speakers were from 2001 and the monitor from 1999. I tested the projector and board in my studio but didn't build the whole screen until we got to the theater (shout out Roni Callahan for being a DIY master).
Top: Pieces and parts from Lowe’s. Middle: Letting the painted board dry in the yard. Bottom: One panel screen test in the studio.
Top: Dustin and Roni building the screen. Middle: Final screen (Dustin for size). Bottom: Testing out the projector moments before the opening.
We got all set up and a ton of people showed! It was awesome. I stood outside the room all night, heard some laughter, had anxiety that the movie sucked, and finally went back in. We did a Q&A and took the after-party to Panini's to celebrate. I look back on the premiere as one of the better nights of my life. A small group of us worked together to make something larger than us. It was a shit ton of work, and everyone gave it their all. The premiere night felt good. It was years in the making, and as quickly as it was over, the warm feeling of accomplishment and community still lingers today.
Q&A after the movie.
We submitted Ned to some film festivals and got into a few. We had plans to go to California for some of the festivals (one we won Best Dark Comedy), but COVID hit and everything changed. Not only was it hard to focus on promoting the film, but I had also started grad school the previous fall. I was a full-time student, part-time teacher, full-time freelancer, and a full-time parent during a world shutdown and looming economic collapse. Yeah, promoting an indie, no-budget movie fell to the side.
I'm not saying the movie is the greatest thing ever made, or if we had promoted it as we should have, it would have been bigger or had more acclaim (I don't think it would have), but I do wish I had tried harder (or at least had the chance). But them's the breaks. I'm proud of the movie and more proud of my friends and grateful for the time spent with them making something. The older I get, the harder it is to line up schedules, find times to do weird, off-the-wall things, find people to do creative projects with, and find the energy to complete those passion projects.
Rewatching takes.
Ned was made with a lot of love and I like to think we had a lot of fun. If you ever watch the movie, I hope you have a little fun too. Here, I even put it up for free on YouTube for you to watch and share with your indie-cinema loving friends!
Making Stuff.
I finished up my little art series While You Were Gone. Every now and then I get an itch to experiment and try to create something with no editorial boundaries and push some techniques I’ve been enjoying or want to experiment with. I’m really in love with the work of Mike McQuade and wanted to try my hand at larger pieces that dealt in collage and mixed media. I did a bunch of pieces using different sized crescent board with gouache, ink, charcoal, magazine ads, and construction paper.
I’ve also been working on the pencils for the second middle-grade graphic novel Misty and I are doing.
I’ve also been busy doing spot portrait illustrations for the likes of The Boston Globe and Dartmouth University!
And to top off the month, Misty and I got to visit three amazing schools and talk about Play Like A Girl to a bunch of amazing kids! Look at some of the cool art they made for us.
Sharing Stuff.
Listening to.
I’ve really been enjoying a song called “Dizzy” by Waterparks, as well as jamming old Screeching Weasel and the new McClusky record! I’ve also had Billie Holiday’s “Blood on the Leaves” on repeat.
Watching…
I cannot say enough good things about the film Rats! The movie is not going to be for everybody, but there is SO much heart in this low-budget, indie flick. I don’t know how they pulled it off but it is the most fun I’ve had watching a movie in a long time. It’s over the top, unexpected, outrageous, disgusting, funny, and a little sweet all at once.
Reading…
This Is How You Lose The Time War by Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone is maybe my all-time favorite book. So, I just picked up Amal El-Mohtar’s new book, The River Has Roots. I’m only a few pages in but it is my next read!
Thanks for reading this month!
—DW