Leo the Mer-Guy! Chapter Six: Maybe Not…

theopoling 1 Comment

Something caught his eye as he walked along, feeling sorry for himself, not even trick-or-treating.

 

One of the houses up ahead had the coolest Halloween decorations Leo had ever seen.

 

There was a big, inflatable ghost out front, and several tombstones with skeletal hands climbing out of them. The bushes and trees were laden with cottony cobwebs and giant spiders with glowing red eyes. Dry ice cauldrons filled the yard with eerie fog. There were purple and orange lights strung up everywhere, including a big, orange arrow affixed to the side of the house, pointing toward the back of the house.

 

Mesmerized, Leo forgot himself, following the flashing orange arrow with a mouth hung open in wonder.

 

He walked down a little brick path to a wooden deck attached to the back of the house. The deck was strung up with lights, too, and party music blasted from speakers. There were more kids here, mingling with one another and eating snacks and drinking pop.

 

Leo steeled himself, taking a breath.

 

He could do this.

 

If only for the snacks, he could do this.

 

Leo climbed up the deck stairs. He filled a red solo cup with Coke and walked over to a group of boys leaning against the railing and talking and eating.

 

Alright. Here we go.

 

“Hey,” Leo said, deepening his voice. He coughed.

 

The boys looked up. One of them nodded his head at him. Leo guessed this was the highly-studied “bro nod.” “Hey.”

 

Leo nodded back. “So.” He fished his awkward, stupid brain for something to say. “What’s up?”

 

“The costume contest is in like fifteen minutes,” one of the other boys offered.

 

“Oh!” Leo perked up. Then he schooled his expression, matching the passivity of the other boys. “Uh, cool.”

 

“Yeah, for kids,” a third boy piped up. “Look at that girl’s costume. Is she a ladybug or a pimple?”

 

That got some laughs. Leo laughed nervously along.

 

“What’s your costume?” one of the boys asked him.

 

“Oh, my mom made me wear it,” Leo said, and the annoyance in his voice was genuine. “I think it’s supposed to be, like, Aladdin, or something.”

 

“Bro, that sucks,” the first boy said. “My mom made me go as Batman but I ditched that shit the moment I left.”

 

Leo thought Batman was cool as hell, but he nodded anyway. “Yeah.”

 

“That’s the only good costume I’ve seen all night,” a dark-haired boy said, pointing to a kid swinging on the playground swingset. Leo leaned over the railing, peering at it. It was a jersey of some kind, with a number on the front.

 

“Yo! Drew Brees! That’s my GOAT,” one boy said.

 

“Nuh-uh. Matthew Stafford, he’s so underrated,” another one said.

 

“If he’s underrated, why is he benched all the time?” the first boy countered.

 

“Why are we stuck on quarterbacks? The game hinges on the wide receiver.”

 

For Leo, the boys had switched tongues, speaking gibberish instead of English.

 

He tried to contribute at all, to ask a question, but they just spoke over him, over the music.

 

Completely unnoticed, Leo backed away and left the deck.

Poetry v. The World: Set-talk

jonahso Leave a comment

This weekend, I spent over 24 hours on a set as an AD (that’s Assistant Director). Everybody likes to joke that film school is easy, (which it kind of is, the classes at least). But this is not the first and surely not the last weekend I’ll lose because I’m “busy shooting”. Voluntarily. But I love it. A lot.

When I started studying film, I had barely any prior experience on sets. I knew there were cameras and sound and lights and a director, but that’s about it. As soon as I arrived, I knew it was something I wanted to do. It’s a high-energy, high-stress atmosphere that benefits the person who never sits down. Half the time, I want to pull my hair out, and I don’t think I could be happier anywhere else. (I mean that in a good way!)

But yeah, part of the gig is saying things differently than one would usually communicate. For example, “eyes on slate” is just another way of saying “does anyone see the slate anywhere?,” (“slate” being the piece of whiteboard that they hold in front of the camera and makes the clapping noise). Another, “hold for gaf” means “everyone wait to start because the gaffer is adjusting one of the lights.” Do all of them save that many words that its crucial enough for everyone to know this weird lingo? No! But it’s fun and it makes everyone who says it feel more professional and accomplished, so we’ll do it anyway.

It’s worth noting that there are some people who don’t like it. I’ve encountered a few who think the more niche ones just aren’t necessary, and I sympathize with their sentiment. However, I think there’s real, tangible effects to them besides the efficiency part:

  1. It sets the right atmosphere for a set. There’s a definite difference between my 423 Short Film Production Class and your friends who are making a YouTube video (no offense), and that difference is professionalism. Shouting these quick, snappy phrases to your crew and them coming back with an equally snappy response makes everyone feel just a little bit more like they know what the heck is going on, which in turn makes us all more professional.
  2. It shows experience. When you know and use the vernacular properly, people respect you more on set. That’s something I’ve seen in practice many a times. And especially in my (usual) job, AD, you need people to listen to you and follow up quickly.

So yes, I will keep using my fancy-shmancy code speech on set, and yes I will make fun of it and yes I love it.

Jonah J. Sobczak

-jonahso

P.S.: (The footage was taken during a shoot in a studio at the Walgreen Center. Super interesting set with a super amazing crew, the project is entitled Emotional Creature and it’s about genuine female experiences. Here’s the link to the YouTube Livestream airing at 8:00 this Friday!)

 

The Artist’s Panel: Prospect

Calin Firlit 1 Comment

For today’s post, I wanted to talk about an amazing public art piece in the Ann-Arbor/Ypsilanti area! Prospect Park is a DIY skate park that was painted entirely by the community of people that skates there. Visiting Prospect is like stepping into an immersive world of color and movement. The varying height of the ramps makes the art feel alive, and the sheer amount of it is all-consuming. Adding roller skaters and skateboarders into the mix creates a whole new dimension of life within the art. Many of the skaters are clad with bright-colored outfits and statement pieces, bringing their own unique style into the mismatch of striking art around them. Prospect Park is just that: a jigsaw of personal expression, an explosion of color, and an epicenter of life. To see more images of Prospect Park and to read statements from athletes that skate there, you can follow this link to a copy of my book, Unsponsored?: A Feminist, Queer Skate Story. I had the amazing opportunity to photograph female and gender non-conforming skaters within and outside of the Ann Arbor area. Many of them are artists; one roller skater I talked to has a business selling hand-made rugs in the shape of roller skates. Another is a fifteen-year-old photographer that is just starting out, but produces portraits that make it look like she’s been taking pictures for years. One skateboarder is going to a school across the country to study design this coming fall. Another is a non-binary fashion influencer. Listening to their stories was like talking to Prospect personified; art was all around me.

Study Hal: Week 38 – Reflection

Leila Mullison Leave a comment

Well, it’s been a year. And this time, we mean that both as “it’s been a wild time” and “it has been 365 days.” Hal recently invested in a motivational calendar – it has cool affirming messages on it, but having it on the desk reminded Hal of the date. March 16th, 2020 is the day I came home early from my study abroad program, and the day Hal moved out of his apartment in Ann Arbor. On his way out, Hal snapped a selfie with his friends and roommates. He realized today that hasn’t seen them in person since.

It has been quite a year, but Hal and I talked through it to find some positives. As much as Hal misses his friends and roommates, he’s glad they’re all safe. He’s also thankful he gets to study what he loves even though it’s been different and more stressful recently. If you haven’t had the time to chat with someone about how this past year has gone, we highly encourage it! It’s better to process the feelings as they come instead of storing them away for another year.

If this is your first time here, thanks for coming! Hal is a U-M senior who’s been remote alllll year. He’s here Tuesdays to share his experiences, but if you can’t wait, check out the Study Hal tag to see all the posts!