Tuesday 23 March 2010

Access All Areas...

In the whole time we've been here at the Academy, I've never once sat down to watch a soap in my own time. I guess I still have a little snobbery about it. I realise the irony of this, coming from she who was once addicted to Hollyoaks, in the same way fat children are addicted to fried bacon fried in fried oil. I told myself it was a casual thing, that I was a social soap-watcher, and that I watching it for the 'irony'.... but when I found myself staying up late to watch Hollyoaks Later after my flatmate went to bed, I had to admit I had a problem. Then, like a fat child who can no longer buy child-sized school trousers, I realised I had to cut out my fatal addiction for the good of my health. I was starting to live in a world where everyone was secretly psychotic, everyone has everyone's mobile numbers and AIDS, drug addictions and teen pregnancies are everyday life (and all of these occur in relatively middle-class surroundings). It was pretty easy to go cold turkey, as it was slowly becoming a parody of itself- murderous lesbian sky divers!! Hannah getting an eating disorder- AGAIN!! No, ta.

Since then, I've not really attached myself to another soap in the same way. I don't have the patience, and every other soap is either too 'cosy' (Corrie), 'parochial' (Emmerdale-dale-dale) or 'soul-rapingly, eye-gougingly, brain-meltingly depressing' (EastEnders). They didn't reflect where I was from, or people like me. At least the 'oaks had a student union!

That pretty much just leaves one... our very own weekly slice of 'Glasgow' living, River City. I'd watched this when it first aired and mostly just cringed at the forced Weegie accents. Obviously there were going to be alot of teething problems with any new show, but I didn't hang about long enough to see how they panned out. Since our classes with Kim though, I've found myself sitting of a Sunday, watching the catch up episode... and I have to admit, it's not so terrible. I appreciate the process of soap-writing so much more now, as well as the efforts behind camera to make the show on a par with the Big Hitters of the soap world. OK, so maybe I didn't tune in every Tuesday religiously, and I didn't know all the characters/plots/backstories etc... I did watch enough, however, to get really PROPER excited about our visit to the very set where River City is made!

We drove up in Julia's car, thankfully without having to smuggle anyone in the boot. I was surprised at how far away the studios actually are- we were practically on the shores of Loch Lomond! We made it there on time without a hitch, Murray worked his best Producer charm and before we knew it we were being waved in and handed BBC visitor's passes (which I think we may have have to hand back... Ooops). One thing which initially struck me was how decidedly un-glamourous the studio was from the outside. It was imposing, grey and bore more than a passing resemblance to an outbuilding from Schindler's List. We'd been there literally five minutes before the fire alarm broke out... Just as I was pondering whether or not we'd see anyone 'famous', the whole cast and crew came pouring out. I was more than a wee bit starstruck, considering I'd only watched the Sunday catch-up the day before they were still fresh in my memory.
First off we were taken to the backlot, which is just amazing! It looks like a street lifted straight from anywhere in Glasgow, right down to the fake subway station. I managed to resist temptation to steal a menu from the Oyster Cafe, although it did take a considerable amount of self-restraint. We also watched a scene being filmed, which brought home the point I made during 'Home' about never working with children, animals or balloons... it showed the huge amount of time and effort that goes into one street scene which will probably only last a couple of minutes, and put our bitching about hanging around the Necro in the bitter cold into perspective!
We were then taken inside to see the interiors... The sheer scale of it was epic. We were informed that all the sets were built in real-size whereas other soaps like Eastenders were a mere 75% to scale... honestly, if it weren't for lack of bedroom I'd move into the 'student' flat in a heartbeat... There were lots of nice quirky touches here and there, like flyers for The Garage and mail addressed to Montego Street. I was a teensy bit disappointed that the tenement sets and the interiors were actually separate, although I figure it's testament to the success of their production design. The day was rounded off with a wee chat with a script editor friend of Kim's: it was a job I'd never even heard of until recently but sounds pretty interesting. The amount of time an effort that goes into making the show seems mind-boggling; from co-ordinating the actors and splitting their time between backlot and studio time, even down to editing out the sound of seagulls... Being so close to Loch Lomond there's alot of 'em around, far more than in Glasgow... it's not something I'd have even considered but it just goes to show the painstaking detail they have to go to, in order for the show to be 'believable'.

After such an intense afternoon of shmoozing industry professionals and behind the scenes access, it seemed only natural to pile into the nearest chippy and head for the swing park. Obviously... Nothing calls your mental age into question like frantically running for a swing screaming "shotgun!!!!!"....
The trip highlighted for me what I love so much about our course. It's not enough that tutors and guest speakers are industry professionals, we get guided tours on the sets of major BBC productions too. I still don't think I can bring myself to watch/enjoy Eastenders without wanting to drive nails into my arm, but I have a sneaking suspicion that Shieldinch may have found itself a unlikely new fan...

Thursday 18 March 2010

We're All Criminally Insane Here

Sometimes I get slightly worried at the things which fascinate me. I get totally obsessed with things which I find interesting, although perhaps they're not the most....orthodox? When I got a loan of X-Files series one, I HAD to watch series two right away. And then I HAD to get the entire box set. I've always been a bit of a conspiracy nut, and this show brings out the worst in me. I can't watch enough programmes about crop circles, alien abductions, government cover-ups and endless searches for The Truth... I'll watch or read absolutely anything about serial killers or unsolved murders- I actually think I'd be really disappointed if I ever found out the identity of Jack the Ripper or the Zodiac killer. Jeffrey Dahmer, Richard Ramirez, Henry Lee Lucas and Charles Manson.... I find them all morbidly fascinating. I can't explain why- maybe it's something about a damaged human psyche. I dunno. I was never interested enough in psychology as a subject; I guess I was more afraid of what it'd say about me. My parents are both psychiatric nurses, so I s'pose alot of it comes from them.
Whereas nowadays we have a deeper understanding of the human mind and mental healthcare, back in the Victorian era right up until the 1950s, it was quite different. Back then, the best way to deal with patients was to lock them in fortress-like asylums, as if they never existed. They were submerged in icy baths for hours or even days, until they froze or drowned. They had holes driven into their skulls, and ice-picks through their eyes, all in the name of freeing them from 'inner demons'. (I found a good wee site listing the 10 'best'....
http://www.neatorama.com/2007/06/12/10-mind-boggling-psychiatric-treatments/)


Of course, while practices like these went on behind closed doors in institutions everywhere, no one reeeaaallly liked to talk about them. Which is why poor old Leo DiCaprio's having such a hard time uncovering the truth in Shutter Island, the lastest venture between Martin Scorcese and his new muse (Bobby DeNiro presumably is too old to scale down the side of a cliff, or in fact make a decent movie anymore). Tucked away from civilization miles from the shore, the Island is home to the most dangerous and criminally insane patients in America (as one guard proudly boasts). They take on the patients nowhere else can handle. Under the guidance of Dr Cawley (Ben Kingsley), the staff at Shutter Island have a new approach to psychiatric care, that involves treating patients as people, and not prison inmates. Unfortunately, one of their patients seems to have vanished into the walls- enter US Marshals Teddy Daniels (DiCaprio) and his new partner, Chuck (Mark Ruffalo, possibly my Favourite Actor in Most Supporting Roles), to solve the mystery of her disappearance. As indicated by the enshrouding fog, remote location and creepy men in white coats, all is not as it seems on this island, and before long Teddy and Chuck are caught up in something far more sinister than they could ever have imagined...

Shutter Island is a really frustrating film to try and write about, or explain, because it's so twisty-turny that anything you say could be considered a "giveaway". Unfortunately with so much emphasis placed on the big 'reveal', it inevitably ends up being a bit of a letdown. Shame though, because throughout its running time it is a genuinely creepy, thought-provoking and intense psychological chiller, with nods to Hitchcock aplenty and some damn fine performances. Visually, the film really invokes the mood of the period, and every location looks potentially dangerous, and genuinely.....scary. The buildings of the 'hospital' are hugely expansive and cavernous, but sinister, isolated and claustrophobic at the same time. Prisoners are allowed outside, but they are shackled and watched over at all times.

The film is stuffed full of ambiguity right up until the very end, another reason why the Turning Point onwards seems such a disappointment. Perhaps I've just seen too many films which end up this way... or perhaps the build up was so hugely enthralling and thought-provoking that I'd overthought what the outcome would be. As Teddy's backstory unfolded and new characters were introduced, I thought there'd be a more intrinsic connection between the two. It seemed there were alot of missed opportunities and build-up to things that just didn't happen. In saying that, the film is based on the novel of the same name, so old Marty can't be faulted for that. I can't shake off the nagging feeling, though, that it'd have been a much more intriguing project in the hands of, say, David Fincher.....?

If we're changing director here, I'd suggest a change of leading man too. Leo has come a long way career-wise since his days of chasing Clare Danes around in a pair of angel wings, but he still only looks about 2 weeks older than he did in What's Eating Gilbert Grape?. He does a good Baaawwwston accent, and admirably steps up to the 'tough guy' act with relative ease, but overall he's pretty unremarkable. I hate to be predictable, but I reckon Edward Norton would have done a great job in the role- although similarities to another memorable film of his would have been a bit too much, considering.... Mark Ruffalo, in the role of 'sidekick', does a far better job; after his overhwelming turn in Zodiac, I really hope this film sees him elevated to the kind of roles he's capable of. And not fluffy Jennifer Garner body-swap nonsense. The rest of the supporting cast play their parts well to; Max Von Sydow is appropriately German and a bit of a bastard, Ben Kingsley is the infuriatingly cryptic, yet seemingly progressive, doctor, and Jackie Earle Haley gives an unrecognisable cameo which is easily one of the more disturbing scenes in the film. He plays mentally unstable roles with such integrity and aplomb, I'm actually looking forward to his take on Freddy Krueger- especially since the Robert Englund incarnation is more of a friendly Boogeyman nowadays than terrifying dream-stalker.

If you strip away all the intensity and hype surrounding this film, and think about it for long afterwards, it starts to crumble a little within its own story. There are some huge neon arrows pointing to its conclusion, and it stumbles a bit under the weight of its own infrastructure. Still, it's a sumptuously gothic piece of work with a neat line in Hitchcockian suspense, and if you're looking for something a bit more cerebral (sorry...!), then this is a good 'un. I was glued to the screen for the whole of its 2-ish hour running time, and it's not very often I can say that anymore.



Wednesday 10 March 2010

And The Winner Is.....


On Tuesday, March 9th, just after dinner-time, a historic event happened. In the wake of awards season, after the fawning and fake smiles and industry back-slapping were over for another year, I tuned into the Sky Planner and.......watched the Oscars for the first time.

I don't know if it counts since I admittedly fast-forwarded all the breaks and dire links to the UK, and skipped to the categories (OK, celebrities) I wanted to see, and I didn't stay up all night when they were screened live, but still..... To be fair, who wants to sit and watch Claudia Winkleman yammer on to three "Oooh, it's them off the telly!" faces about who they think will win, when they have absolutely nothing to do with the awards, or in fact 'the movies', whatsoever. Call me a total philistine, and I'll probably get shot down by film snobs for saying this, but I haven't seen any foreign short films this year, so why shouldn't I skip the award? God bless the Ross then, for not only having Sky Movies (I don't...yet we have Sky Sports in my house...it's a huge bug-bear, don't get me started), but recording it for me too. I thought it'd be so exciting but really, star appearances aside, it was a long, dull affair, with too many poorly read autocues and cringe-worthy speeches. Alec Baldwin/Steve Martin as the hosts were just not funny, a few throwaway quips aside. It was like watching someone's tipsy dad make an extended wedding speech. Even George Clooney, who tries so hard wishing he were Cary Grant with his easy charm and demeanour, looked distinctly unimpressed.

All in all though, a good night for The Hurt Locker... Scooping Best Screenplay, Film, Director and a nomination for Best Actor. War films tend to kind of blend into one another for me; Buffalo Soldiers aside. And only because that was really, really funny. I haven't seen Hurt Locker, but I was pretty stoked it triumphed over Avatar. I haven't seen this either, admitedly, because my loathing of CGI won't let me... I can't imagine anything worse than sitting through 3 hours of self indulgent nonsense, without very much 'story' involved... snoooozzze. Plus, corny as it may be, it gave me a teeny bit of hope to see a female lifting Best Director. I hoped it'd have been me in my fertile little imagination, but hey, everyone remembers Buzz Aldrin, right? And George Harrison? And um...... emmm....

The icing on the back-slapping cake came with the nominations for Best Actor and Actress... a troupe of ex co-stars turning out in their Sunday best to waffle on about how great all the nominees were. I was totally stoked to see the Dude, Jeff Bridges, pick up Best Actor... having seen him in Crazy Heart, the award was totally well deserved. It proved that a great performance can lift even the most average, narratively-slight film into something far more watchable. Seeing Sandra Bullock lift the award for Best Actress was a bit of a left-field surprise, although I do think she's a good actress, even in fluffier romantic comedies (yes, I HAVE seen some!!!). I haven't seen The Blind Side, and to be honest I might wait for the DVD, but it was good to see the underdog in both categories get the top prize. Both acceptance speeches were pretty funny as well, rather than the usual "I'd just like to thank the Academy" sniffling and crying affairs.

I was a tad gutted poor Quentin "I've eaten the 1990s version of myself" Tarantino didn't get anything for Inglourious Basterds; for my money one of the best films of last year. Christoph Waltz's gong for Best Supporting Actor was a hugely promising start- Colonel Hans Landa has entered pretty highly on my list of Ultimate Film Bastards, joining high-profile characters like Alan Rickman as the Sheriff of Nottingham and Alan Rickman as Hans Gruber. OH! And Michael Madsen as Mr. Blonde. Even though the film didn't get any of the bigger awards, I was glad they honoured the right choice for Supporting Actor... Whatever came immediately after him got fast-forwarded, I'm slightly ashamed to say, but heeeeeey.... it's all about dreaming big, right? I loved UP and was again happy that it got Best Animated Picture, although I would have LOVED if Coraline had snuck up and pipped them to it...although in all fairness, Cars aside, nothing going up against Pixar really has that much of a chance, does it?

I don't feel as if I've missed out on not watching the Oscars before... I guess there's not much point unless you're staying up all night, and maybe if I'm off the next day I'll tune in for 2011. By the time I watched it, I'd seen most of the highlights on the news and in the papers anyway, so I wasn't seeing anything new. I didn't watch any of the red carpet "ohmygawd you look fabulous" shenanigans either... I can't walk in high heels and I feel like a polished turd/giant tranny whenever I put on something 'fancy' so I don't care about what famous people are wearing, really... If I'm ever in the position to be nominated for some kind of Awesomeness in Film-Making award, I plan on turning up in Converse and a tuxedo t-shirt. And the smart money wouldn't be on my chances of walking home with a shiny prize, but whether or not they pronounced my name right...

Monday 8 March 2010

There's Something In The Water...


It was a crazy old weekend for me, cinematically. On Friday, we all saw Jeff Bridge's Oscar-winning turn in Crazy Heart, but Cineworld played host to a different kind of crazy for me on Thursday. I've been sorely disappointed by horror remakes recently, the notable exception being Zack Snyder's 2004 Dawn of The Dead which I think ranks among one of the best. Mr Romero's legacy, and the old classic 70s horrors have taken quite a battering in recent years. Land of The Dead turning out to be a stinking turd of a letdown (apart from a shining turn from the lovely, lovely, lovely Asia Argento). Rob Zombie's Halloween was promising until it finished with all the Michael Myers backstory, and turned into a conventional 'remake' rather than a 'reimagining'. The absolute worst of this godawful bunch is The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, which I haven't seen since I watched it in the pictures. Needless to say, I'm a more than a little apprehensive about A Nightmare on Elm Street. Freddie Krueger played by Rorshach? Interesting.... Produced by Michael Bay?...... Good. God. No.

Anyway, Thursday brought with it a surprisingly enjoyable romp through biohazard-infected small-town Americana in The Crazies, a remake of the 1973 film of the same name. I haven't seen the original, so I didn't know what to expect, but 'zombie remake' didn't exactly inspire confidence. Still, I figured I'd go and check my brain in for an hour or so. I'd also been let down after high expectations of The Wolfman and Daybreakers, so there was alot riding on this one. Perhaps unfairly, but in the end it was totally worth it.

The Crazies opens with Johnny Cash's familiar baritones, humming 'We'll Meet Again' over shots of a small town in the first clutches of spring. It's opening day of the baseball season and the whole town has turned out to watch the local high school batter up. Sheriff David Dutton (Timothy Olyphant) is young, handsome, respected and expecting his first child with town doctor Judy (Radha Mitchell). This is the kind of town where you can leave your door unlocked, and are surrounded by acres and miles of glorious farmland. The sort of town that's ripe for some sort of undead pandemic, then.

The game's barely begun before the town's former 'drunk' wanders onto the baseball field brandishing a gun, not speaking, not showing any emotion whatsoever. No signs that he is in fact human. The sheriff shoots him down after he's unresponsive to negotiations. His family are adamant he's been sober for two years and are baffled by his behaviour, and the mystery deepens when a family man in a similar catatonic state burns down his family home after locking his wife and son inside. The sheriff and his deputy investigate a tip-off and find a fallen plane in the local river- the source of the town's water supply. Later, the whole town are dragged from their homes into military quarantine, faceless soldiers dragging off those with 'high temperature'; unfortunately for the Duttons this means Judy. Chaos ensues as David and his allies try to find her, so that they can make it to safety outside of the town's boundaries.

It's pretty standard horror fare, but the difference here is that the gore and shlock value is underpinned by a good ol' dose of black humour. The characters aren't just faceless teens in minimal clothing, they're stand-up members of the local community, on a race against time when basically they're walking targets. Sure, there's far too many instances of people walking into rooms without realising the 'infected' are behind them, but it becomes less of a shock tactic and more of a means to keep the journey moving. I won't give too much away and spoil the ending, but it's a thrilling race against time to get there.

Sure, it's not gonna win any Oscars. Then again, horror movies rarely register with the 'Academy', so that's probably not the best comparison... Still, I went to see this film to enjoy it, not think about any deeper meanings behind it or to be intellectually challenged. It's alot of fun, with a good few scares and a clutch of impressive special effects along the way. It doesn't add anything fresh or stunningly original to the 'infection-horror' genre, and the characters are a little thin. There are some clunking references to American politics and the brute force of the military too, but they get kind of swept aside in all the pandemic fun. The Crazies is refreshing in that it doesn't offer any obvious resolution, and it's certainly one of the better remakes I've seen. It's economic with its running time and doesn't waste a minute of it, guaranteeing you to be entertained from start to finish. Problem is, now I want a sequel....and can see myself spending an absolute fortune in bottled water.

I'm A Little Bit Country

Another Oscars season has come and gone, and yet again they have passed me by. I always feel slightly guilty that I haven't watched them, considering the nature of our degree an' such, but hey. It's just on too late for me, and I don't have Sky Movies. It works out in my favour though; the Ross has it taped for me meaning I can skip past all the boring stuff and Steve Martin, and go straight to the Big Awards. I do try and make up for my lack of Pro-Plus and dedication though, by watching all the winners of the year.
This doesn't always work out so well though. After Halle Berry became the first black female to win Best Actress, I decided to go and check out Monster's Ball, since there was such a huge deal made of her performance. Two hours later, I left the cinema feeling like the whole world was Bleak with a capital B. L-E-A-K. The film lurched from one huge tragedy to the next, and I was far too young to have been seeing Billy Bob Thornton's naked ass bouncing up and down in Cinemascope. Shudder.

This time around I was a little bit more pleasantly surprised. After spending the morning with King Kong, 'the world's biggest film star' (groan!), we trooped over to Cineworld to kill some time before our tutorial with Gav. We opted for Crazy Heart, which I'd quite fancied seeing; the Oscars seemed to be all about 'Hurt Locker vs Avatar' and this little country and western flick seemed like the underdog choice. The Dude was nominated for an Oscar, but everyone seemed to be in a flap about Colin Firth in A Single Man. Plus, all the songs were actually performed by The Dude... sorry, Jeff Bridges. Sounded promising, yes?


The end result left me with mixed feelings... Jeff Bridge's performance as 'Bad' Blake, a broken down alcoholic old country singer, was fantastic. You could really hear the emotion in his voice when he sang, and truly believed that this was a man who'd hit rock bottom, several times over. Once a great country singer, touring huge arenas across the country, he's now reduced to playing in bowling alleys, unable to pay for his favourite brand of whiskey in a bargain booze store. The bitterness in his voice was palpable when talking about his protege Tommy Sweet (Colin Farrell), a young star enjoying huge success, who'd inherited all of Bad's successes and none of his failings. You could even almost kind of buy his relationship with single-mum journalist Jean (Maggie 'help, I've got the saggy face of an old lady' Gyllenhaal), and the bond he forms with her young son Buddy is quite touching. The scene in which he calls his own son, whom he hasn't seen in 24 years, is heartbreaking, yet you can understand his son's haste in hanging up.

The big problem was... not very much happened. I know that's a bit of a lamen's reason to complain, but one Oscar-worthy performance can't make two hours go any faster. It doesn't compensate for a lack of action. Bad's rehab and redemption also seemed to have a very quick turnaround. After an incident where he loses Buddy in a shopping mall, he checks himself in to AA and from then on, he's a changed man. Yeah, you get really involved with the character whilst watching, but it all seems a bit too.....easy. The story was also very slight; the emphasis of this film seems to be more on character and performance than dramatic pay-off.

Given the results of last night's awards, Jeff Bridges definitely deserved to win for his role here. He puts in a committed, totally believable performance, and the supporting players are all good too. The film is beautifully shot too, from the shadows of crummy motel rooms and the brilliant azure of the New Mexico desert, it looks fantastic. There's nothing contrived or artificial about this film, which is where I think alot of the film's dramatic gravitas comes from. Still, in years to come, if asked what film I think truly defines Jeff Bridges... The Dude abides, every time.

Monday 1 March 2010

Camera Evaluation (Revised...)

For some unknown reason, I can't seem to open my copy of the camera evaluation I sent to Ray after our summative assessment last week. Despite having saved it as a Word document AND emailing a copy to Monsieur Tallan, the computer has decided that it simply doesn't exist. IRRITATINNNGGGG! This means I'm going to have to recall how I felt I did a week later, rather than a day later... considering I have to check bus timetables every day because I can't remember what time I got it the morning before, this is quite a feat for me. In saying that, since writing my last evaluation I've had my tutorial too, which I think gave me a clearer breakdown of my slightly shonky performance... and at least now I know I did indeed pass, happy days!

Sooo anyways, last Tuesday Kelsey and I shuffled into the Chandler Theatre for our assessment. I was most relieved we weren't due in until 4:15, which gave me time to do some last minute cramming... although I quickly realised studying for a tech assessment by reading notes is clearly not the way to go! We were being assessed on basically everything we've learned in Ray's classes so far, including all the camera stuff from last term and lighting from this one. I figured lighting would be a total skoosh... I really enjoyed the class were we had to each take turns of being DoP and lighting a shot, and I was SO organised I even wrote down the positions of the lights I'd used in mine.

I had alot of trouble with camera last term as I found it really difficult to understand...it didn't click very easily, although admittedly I was terrified of the bloody thing and generally observed whilst others busied themselves in setting it up. In the first assessment (which MERCIFULLY we weren't being graded on) it took me so long so set up the effing tripod that I had to de-rig just as I was about to start dialling in the time code. So naturally time code became a HUGE thing for this assessment I used my trusty highlighter every time the two words were mentioned in my notes. This time around though, everything seemed to flow more easily and things camw to me a bit more naturally. I decided it'd be best to set up all the lighting stands beforehand so I wasn't faffing about with them when I was finished with the camera. Unfortunately I put up the wrong stand for the 2K light, which I chose as my key, and totally forgot to take it down at the end of the hour.

I managed to set up the tripod, calibrate the monitor, dial in time code AND back focus the camera relatively easily, and didn't even have to redo anything- this was a huge thing for me considering my apparent lack of techy skills last term! I think having lighting this term has meant the focus isn't solely on the camera, therefore it's less of a Huge Scary Thing.

So far, so good, I thought. The hardest part was over and I could go about setting up my pre-planned, proven-to-work lighting. Then came the realisation that, in my eagerness to dig out last term's camera notes, I had COMPLETELY dorgotten my lighting notes. I couldn't even remember what position I'd put my lights in, never mind what tyoes I'd used. In the end I opted for a 2K for my key, and two reds for the back light and fill light. In all honesty, I had absolutely no idea why I picked these lights- my only explanation is the Chandler was really dark and so I figured the 2K would flood it pretty well. It did- too well, in fact. It was far too bright, and the fill light I'd used was barely visible. Also, all three lights were at really bizarre heights- again because I couldn't remember which ones were supposed to be higher, which ones I'd used before, etc etc. But we were fast running out of time, so I had to make do. With the help of Ray I managed to shoot my MCU and CU shot before a mad mental dash to get everything unpacked. This is where I started making some really properly stupid mistakes- you know that way when you're in a hurry and you get all panicky and just start doing stuff wrong and start giving yourself the slow sarcastic hand-clap in your head? Yeah. After dissembling the tripod I attached the shoe and plate together, then put them both in the wrong bag. THEN I forgot to take down the spare lighting stand I'd put up, and had to unwind and rewind the big rolly extension cable thing on the wheel. Earlier on I'd also put my back light at the wrong side hich involved much cable-dragging and some questionable health&safety.

All in all, I finished 13 minutes after our allocated hour was up- not great. I feel like I definitely have improved since last time, let's face it, I'd be kind of worried if all I could do at this stage would be put a tripod up... I'll admit I haven't yet taken kit out to practise with yet though, which I'll definitely need to do... as I said before, it's all very well reading notes and highlighting til my heart's content, but it's no substitute for actually physically practising with the equipment itself. And maybe bring along the right notes would help too...