The art of film can
refer just as often to the skill of knitting together the people and finance
needed for a production as it does to the themes and ideas which a confusion of
different talents, with their often-divergent views, bring to the screen. It’s
been eternally claimed how much of a miracle is required for a film to be made,
let alone ending up with something moderately entertaining or provoking. The
industry devours so much cash that even low budget endeavours consume the
efforts of an army of technicians, let alone the invisible amounts which
evaporate through legal, insurance and years of development.
Of course, when you
make an independent, international, treaty co-production you multiply the
difficulties times ten!
One of the pleasures
in traveling the world making movies is the cultures and individuals you work
with, which are always a challenge and learning experience. The emphasis here
is on working together. As writer / producers we approach every project with a
distinct sense of authority as creators and manipulators - until reality smacks
us and compromise becomes the key.
On Rainbow
this originally saw production and financing designed as a UK / Canada /
Germany co-production with all the subsequent national content and spend
requirements to be faced - a series of governmental hoops to be jumped through
which are seldom based on creative benefits. It often creates a bizarre series
of abortive relationships which are only resolved by financial necessity.
That means story
discussions turn out to be interesting.
Our film's narrative
is kicked into gear when the young hero finds the end of the rainbow. One of
the original partners suggested that perhaps the rainbow hides from Mikey,
darting behind buildings in some elaborate show of hide and seek. Another idea
posited was the audience never actually sees the rainbow, leaving it the imagination,
a harsher approach that could reduce the budget. Both proposals were met with
our stony silence.
Initially, financial
necessity saw us develop the project out of Ealing Studios, a famous British
institution and home to classic movies during the 1940s and 50s. As part of its
survival in 1993, the stages and offices had been purchased by supplies company
BBRK. A new direction and lease of life promised. We should have known there’d
be trouble when the incompetent people at the helm pursued not the refurbishment
of threadbare sound stages but a rebuilding of the main bar.
There was certainly
generosity in the long, boozy lunches, yet very little in the way of business
vision. Instead, hawks preyed on amateurism. Investment promised to us and
deals to use the facilities never materialized.
However, during the
stifling heat of the summer of 1994 it did become a base to bring together the
creative team for “Rainbow” to discuss story and technology - and how we were
going to conjure dreams into reality. Director / star Bob Hoskins, DP Freddie Francis
and designer David L. Snyder were among those gathered to pick apart the art
and mechanics as well as to interrogate Sony’s digital guru John Galt who we
flew in from Los Angeles. Apart from the joy of simply talking ideas (what
sweeter period can there be without the weight of physical and financial
limitations), there was also the chance to work on storyboards and test the
capabilities of the HD camera. A major debate was how to actually create a
rainbow. It would be a discussion and struggle that would last even beyond the
reshoots in California months after the shoot. In the meantime, we managed to
visit a company specializing in laser displays and filmed a multi-coloured
corridor of light, which eventually did become an element in the final visual
effects. We also had the rather extraordinary experience of the Ealing special
effects department proposing to use a miniature rainbow they had physically constructed
and incorporate it with the location shoot in Montreal. It was the kind of bone-headed
suggestion that summed up the decline at the facility and a potent sign that it
was time to move on.
Apart from the
well-stocked bar, the Ealing cafeteria was expansive and the food decent.
Unfortunately, we also discovered that nearly everyone on the lot had been
using the ‘rainbow’ account even if they had nothing to do with us. We had a
fight over the bill. It was a shame. The initial plan was to shoot interiors on
the fabled stages. In March of 1994, our long-running series Best Of British
had finally ended its run on BBC1, a seven-year, sixty-seven episode look at
the British film history between the 1930s and 80s. So, we knew all about the
glories of Ealing’s past and it would have been a romantic ideal to
reinvigorate the place with new technology and new ideas. A few months after we
left, Ealing Studios imploded under debt and mismanagement. The individuals
escaped. The lot needed to be rescued once again.
After so many
sweating weeks in the art department, it was time to go to Canada, where the
co-production had been ultimately established. Strangely enough, as a creative
team, discussion over the digital technology we were about to pioneer was only
about how it would benefit production. Freddie Francis was giddy with the
potential. Most were genuinely enthused, although the camera operator was nearing
hostility. There were bigger problems of course, in particular that finance was
rapidly falling away with our German co-producer failing spectacularly to
deliver and the Ealing connection crashing.
With any evolving
narrative, however, there’s always a background or a flashback to provide a way
forward. In our case, it was provided by Marie Vine at the Cannes Film Festival
in May. It always helps to have a sales agent who’s a genuine fan, who believes
in a project as much as making the deals. The promotion was good, the sales
spiel was even better and there was a script which received a positive reaction.
There was even a live Q&A with Bob Hoskins beamed into a reception room at
the Majestic Hotel for assembled buyers and journalists. Of course, that
particular event suffered a customary technical blowout (a loss of picture,
even as sound continued) that was eventually traced to a waiter tripping over a
power cord and dislodging the plug from the wall socket!
Despite industry
scepticism (especially from the U.S.), the end result from a few hectic days
was a robust series of distributor sales and a bidding war between British
companies that was resolved by a midnight meeting where we were questioned
about the centrepiece rainbow ride. We had to ramp up our best pitch, though
it’s always helpful when your audience wants to be convinced. By the early
hours, we had a rich deal with First Independent that was an important
foundation to financing the film, not just the money itself but the sense of
confidence it gave everyone.
The Ealing art department had provided a solid
base to spin fantasies. In fact, all movie art departments conjure up a
relaxed, open atmosphere, although the result in this case was yet another
re-write on the script. (Of course, whether it’s approached as a blessing or a
curse, the evolving state of a screenplay provokes re-writes throughout
production, even pushing into post-production.) Right now, however, in the height
of summer, the schedule dictated for us to decamp to Montreal, storyboards and
dreams still intact. The vital work of pre-production was about to commence,
the real battles of creativity and finance ready to clash.
It was also time to prove digital filmmaking was
a reality.
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