Setting: Kensington Market (Toronto, Ontario), June 2006
Down the Hatch – Act Two
Please note that this post originally appeared on Kyra’s MySpace Page in June 2006.
I walked up the three flights of concrete steps to the loft that would serve as the Super-8 film’s main location. It was made available to Martin by the very person that the script was loosely based on; a renaissance man named Chris. The space itself led to the development of the story and the art direction. Full of antique furniture, records, paintings, books, tackle boxes and old bicycles … old metal doors to the bathroom … and literally hundreds of empty bottles of Mateuse. It would be a difficult space to describe even if it wasn’t full of lighting equipment and esoteric props. Perhaps if I hadn’t been sleep-deprived, I would be better able to give it a name. I felt like I was in … (wait for it) a movie.
Everyone on set knew that the production was almost impossible. Besides the incredible time constraints, the director of photography had never shot on Super-8 in these lighting conditions. He kept saying, “Well, that should be interesting,” and, “We’re taking a risk on that shot, but it’ll be gorgeous if it works out.” I did as much as I could on set and kept an eye on the baby chicks between shots. I was the official ‘chick wrangler’. I wish I had been more on the ball and in less pain. The night before I had been up late helping out at the qr5 show and I had gashed my leg open at 3 AM on the generator that was sitting in the middle of my dark living room. When I didn’t know what else to do to help, I went out to pick up more film and check on Mr. Bojangles back at the house. He was quiet and happy (praise the Lord).
When I got back to the loft the main living area had been blacked out for the night scenes. It felt like a different place entirely. The room was filled with candles stuck in Mateuse bottles and Martin was trying to fill a kerosene lamp over the kitchen sink. They were getting ready to shoot a bathroom scene where the hero is reading on the toilet, holding a lantern.
The toilet scene went off without a hitch. It was kind of gross, but technically, it was flawless.
Then it was time for the final shot. The hero, whose power has been shut off, opens his fridge to find rotten cheese and a baby chick that has hatched while he’s been gone. It’s ‘key’ to the story and makes the rest of the chick appearances make sense. When everyone was ready to go, and the kerosene fumes had died down from the last shot, we set up the kitchen. Martin fired up the lantern.
This apparatus should not be used indoors. Under any circumstance.
It caught on fire.
Panic. Bring it to the hallway. Grab the fire extinguisher. Mostly out now, but not before the building’s fire alarm system has been tripped. Oh dear.
(Things catching on fire have a way of staying in the present tense, even if the events are in the past.)
The kerosene lantern is still smoldering so we bring it out to the landing and collect ourselves as the director of photography pulls down the blackout sheets and blows out all the bizillion candles. Pete and I grab the baby chicks and run them down the steep concrete staircase. We don’t want them to get hurt and we don’t want to get fined $35,000 for having live chickens in the city. Are the fire trucks coming? Is our impossible plan coming to a peeping halt?
Is this end for ‘Down the Hatch’?!
-End Scene-
Please note (again) that this post originally appeared on Kyra’s MySpace Page in June 2006. She has re-posted it here for your education and enjoyment. She had someone at work read her re-post on Monday and ask, “How crazy was your weekend?” She would like to assure everyone that these events occurred two years ago.
