Strange Days On Venice Beach
The End Is Trending and Fighting the Sun Like Icarus
I couldn’t show how nervous I was, but I’m sure my chattiness betrayed me.
The weather called for a bright, sunny day on Venice Beach, but I desperately needed a marine layer. There were three crucial scenes we needed to knock out: one was “day,” another was “breaking dawn,” and the last was “dusk.”
Earlier that week, I had come down to Venice with my iPhone, an ND filter, and a CPL filter to take some test shots. I found that by cutting the daylight and glare, and using the right camera settings and color grading, I could actually pull off “breaking dawn” in broad daylight. But of course, that test day happened to be cloudy.
So, I went back again on a sunny morning to test it.
And MY EYES. So much light. I bought a beach umbrella and tried it again. It was passable... as long as I could ignore all the beach-goers frolicking through my horror movie set.
Then the big day arrived. These three scenes essentially encapsulate the climax of the movie. They were the most demanding on the talent, and required the absolute most of our technology and our ability to push the guerilla-style production approach.
Not only did we need to mute a blazing beach sun, but we needed our microphones to handle the windy, wave-crashing environment. To make matters worse, I had somehow decided to cast myself in this movie, so I had to act in all three scenes while simultaneously mitigating the location, the tech, and working closely with the other actors to deliver the most important sequence in the film.
On top of everything, we had to manage make-up and practical special effects in the sand.
We wrapped. We had lunch. I got home. I reviewed the footage and breathed a massive sigh of relief.
Somehow, we pulled it off.
But what’s more, after I compiled the footage into an intro montage—my first rough assembly of the movie—my heart sang. I saw a movie deeply rooted in Venice Beach, acting as a sort of homage.
I suppose that was a little expected considering Venice is the primary location, but I didn’t expect it to feel so much like Venice. It made me nostalgic for all the years I’ve spent in this community. It took me back to the 90s when my wife and I would frequent the boardwalk, drink beers, and play in the drum circle; to the years we would take afternoon walks and grab ice cream; and to right now, when we walk from Ocean Park to the breakwater almost every weekend.
I’ve been in Los Angeles for 25 years. I don’t know at what point you stop being a “transplant,” but I’ve never felt so much love for a city that has gone through so much.
Just this last weekend, we walked to the breakwater and decided to head back to Santa Monica via the boardwalk. We had no idea that Venice Fest was happening. The entire city was shut down, and tents with art, wares, and food spread throughout the community as far as the eye could see. We talked with artists, ate amazing food truck cuisine, and celebrated the people and culture of this amazing, beating heartbeat of a community.
I recognize that I put a Cthulhu cult here in my movie because, well, of course there would be a Cthulhu cult in Venice Beach. But that’s precisely why I love this place so much.
Help Us Bring This Cult to Life
As we enter the mid-campaign stretch of our Kickstarter, I feel incredibly confident in the work we’ve done so far and the footage we’ve captured. But to get this Venice Beach love letter (and its resident monsters) across the finish line, we need your help.
We are over halfway to our goal! If you want to support independent, guerilla filmmaking, please consider backing the campaign today or sharing it with a friend who loves indie horror. Let’s keep trucking!
