48 Hour Film Project Screening

It was great fun seeing both our film and the films of others last night. There were some fantastic films. There's so much incredible creativity around. You forget that until you go to something like this.

I knew our film had changed, but hadn't realized the change was quite so drastic. It became even more of a fantasy - focusing more on the typewriter, rather than the hero, saving the world from a nefarious plot.

We had to incorporate the character President Roosevelt Adams - every film had to have this character. So President Adams calls our hero, Ravi, to tell him that he needs to learn how to type 240 words a minute in order to type all the code needed to disarm a bomb.

A black Porsche pulls up and whisks our hero off to typewriter boot camp.

The first boot camp scene, the drill instructor starts yelling at the recruits. Denigrating their skills. Telling them the things they will learn. Such as how to change a typewriter carriage in mid-sentence. Such as pangrams.

I learned what a pangram was. It's a sentence that uses all the letters of the alphabet.

In one of my favorite moments of the film, the instructor is getting up in the faces of the recruits.

"Do you know a pangram?" he screams at one, a beautiful young woman with her lovely brown curly hair pulled back in a severe pony tail.

"Sir, yes sir! The quick brown fox jumps over a lazy dog. Quick zephyrs blow, vexing daft Jim. Pack my box with five dozen liquor jugs. Sir! Yes, sir!"

This shot required a lot of takes because we were laughing so hard.

You see shots of three recruits running up the hills with typewriters tied to poles over their shoulders. Shots of them doing yoga while typing, trying to become one with their machines. Shots of them learning to fence and strike the keys with their swords.

Another of my favorite scenes took place in car. Ravi was typing furiously while being screamed at by a drill sergeant. And then the car started shaking because people were beating on it. He started to whimper for help.

The drill sergeant yelled at him not to break concentration, to keep going with the drill. At some point he yelled out, "Type, bitch!"

My scene with Ravi took place on a candlelit balcony, while he was typing dejectedly. I started whispering, "Touch the keys lightly, like you're caressing a woman. Yes...nice..." I also got to say the line that had to be in every film - "That's what I'm talking about."

It's a good deal of fun to act like you're getting hot and heavy with typing instructions. I whispered in his ear, and he typed in an aroused kind of way. Mostly on the screen you see the glazed look in his eye and the open mouthed panting.

One thing that struck me was how good natured, positive, professional everyone was. Even at 4 am. When you've been with a group of strangers since 7:30 am the previous day, you could easily loathe at least one person by that point. But everyone was great. I had so many interesting conversations, so many laughs, learned so much.

Post-screening drinks last night was such a good time. Because I was feeling relieved about where my dad was, I was ready to let my hair down. Like in a yippee! let's do tequila shots kind of way! The kind of way I'm so paying for today. Ow. But don't regret one bit.

The crew from the movie felt like old friends. And a bunch of our friends came out to support us. And there were some wonderful last minute attendees - LMNt and Dagny and VVK. I've never had my real and blog worlds collide before, and I was delighted.

On a side bar, the director of the film taught me a valuable lesson last night. If you are wearing a microphone, you should always remember to turn it off when you're not on camera, reciting your lines.

Because otherwise? When you're off camera and you tell someone that not only do you like the director's voice, but actually, you think he's kind of hot? Um, yeah. Turns out the sound guy is constantly listening to the live microphones. And will in fact turn to the director and tell him exactly what you said.

He was flattered, and amused at my embarrassment. All I can say is, it made me thankful I wasn't suggesting something graphic, like in a supporting our troops kind of way.

But still. Oops.