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Sean Porter on the set of Kumiko, the Treasure Hunter (Photo by Chris Ohlson) |
There are so many wonderful anecdotes about the life of a cinematographer in this article. I touch briefly on 2 poignant paragraphs that hit very close to home for me:
The Gear: It gets you jobs
There were new “d.p.s” who happened to have the new coolest kit, and they ended up getting jobs I was up for, in some cases replacing me in relationships with directors I’d been working with for some time. It didn’t help that in many cases they also turned out to be capable and even talented shooters. The gear buys you jobs, which buys you experience and relationships, which buys you more jobs. But wait! Shouldn’t skill alone be enough to get the call?
You career vs your relationship
I had just wrapped It Felt Like Love. It was autumn in NYC. Beautiful. I was settling back into “dad” mode, and Laurie had left to prep Cold Comes the Night in upstate New York. Then came the phone call. “We’re working on a film shooting in Japan and Minnesota.” David Zellner could have stopped there. “We wanted to know if you might be available; we start prep in Japan in three weeks.” Wait, what happened to alternating projects? I read the script and the knot in my stomach just got worse. I called Laurie. “Well, I think you have to do it!” she said. So began many more phone calls with the Zellners and a scramble of logistics. I packed Jackie and myself up, and we headed for Seattle, forgetting my passport, of course; why do I need a passport to go to Seattle? I dropped him off with the grandparents and departed for Tokyo. Jack didn’t see either of us for almost four weeks until Laurie wrapped and departed NYC for Seattle — over Thanksgiving! — to pick him up and finally head back home; Laurie and I wouldn’t see each other for 11 weeks. Yet only three short weeks after we all split ways, Hurricane Sandy hit our neighborhood. All three of us were safe, scattered about in different parts of the world.
Making the decision to take on Kumiko, the Treasure Hunter, regardless of the turbulence it caused us — this was a time to say yes. There have been many more decisions like this to make for other films, and Laurie and I have had to say no a lot. And while it never feels good to say “no,” you have to ask yourself, “Even though this job may be good for my career, will my relationship with my family suffer, or maybe even fail?” Sounds dire, but if it hasn’t happened yet, it will. Part of stepping up is about finding your own balance with life and work before you get lost.
Read the full article on filmmakermagazine.com here