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My daughter as client
My daughter is in Latin club, and the school clubs compete in various games and things inter-scholastically. One of their projects was to make a short about some facet of mythology, but updated to the present. I first heard about her project about 2 weeks from the deadline, when they were first seeking someone to edit their student-shot footage. But my daughter said I was a distant backup possibility; one of the students would cut the piece together on imovie or something, don’t sweat it. And I hear not a peep afterwards.
Of course, this forum being what it is, you know what comes next without me writing it.
2 Weeks later, Friday night, just got home from work, opening my emails, and she plops a camera bag in my lap, all frustrated:
“So the project FINALLY went ahead and shot TODAY, the video has to be presented tomorrow at the competition: can you cut it together for us, pleeeeease?”
“Only if you sit in on the edit session to guide me and to watch and advise on the process, since they made you Director and producer.”
She hadn’t wanted to direct and had been trapped into it at the last minute. I heard nothing but complaints of unprepared actors, a script half-written, half-improv, no effects budget… and it has to rock the audience’s world, in about 8 hours.
oh, and BTW, while it was expected to be DV footage, it accidentally became HDV footage during shooting: do you have a deck to play that with?
I am struggling not to laugh out loud by this point, but also frantic, because we can’t find quite the right cables between my new imac’s firewire and the camcorder’s old one. After driving to three closing stores in a row on a wet, late Friday night, without finding the cable, I resort to dubbing out a composite SD signal into my DVD recorder, then ripping the DVD into FCP7 using MPEG Streamclip. It works. We can start cutting. it’s only 10:39.
The next hour proves quite educational for my daughter, who has never really seen or understood what dad really does at the office. She has to walk me thru organizing the footage which was shot out of sequence and with multiple takes. She quickly observes where her camera placement worked, and where she had wrong shots or continuity problems and plain missing shots.
Over the next hour, I fix the bad shotgun audio, color-correct the horrible exposure, add foley and music, and pull out short shots from longer ones, flopping them and re-timing them to fill in for missing second camera matching action. Slowly, she is beginning to understand that making these isn’t a one-button operation, and why dad is the way he is, some days.
She has made just about every mistake my real word grown-up clients ever have, all in one little production, in one night. But I fix them all, one by one,and gradually, she becomes more and more impressed by the application of tech and timing skills and creating narrative flow thru shot choices. When I pull out some snazzy effects from Motion to dress the titles and graphics, her eyes become saucers, looking with new appreciation at what Dad has transformed her disaster into. The end needs a narrator: I step in and give it with a Nordine-like flourish. We upload it at 2 AM. She suggests I give myself a screen credit. I go for the Alan Smithee.
We took second place the next day. But I won the battle with my producer, and taught them how important good editing and good directing are to a successful media project, and how skilled artisans can repair and transform bad material. She’s never going into my field, and that’s really okay. But I love that this father-daughter trial by fire gave her better understanding and respect for what dad does to bring home the bacon. I still can’t stop laughing, thinking back on it.

