The HPJ Trilogy Production Blog, “Have Faith, Will Travel” – A Frak Me Footnote

PREVIOUSLY ON THE MAD ONES FILMS “EVERYTHING BUT A BLOG”…

“As I lay me down to sleep, I prayed the lord my soul to keep… except for that fact that I sold that soul many many manic moons ago. However, after seeing how absolutely drop-dead fucking tits-brilliant every single sinful thing about this film has turned out, I might just be willing to buy it (the soul) back… and trade it to my fuzzy hot pink messiah man.”

AND NOW… THE EAR-BITING, ATTENTION-DISTRACTING, CHERRY-POPPING, SINFULLY STUNNING CONCLUSION TO THE LATEST “CHOOSE YOUR OWN” MAD ONES FILMS ADVENTURE!!!

A Frak Me Footnote: Pre-Post-Production & The Patron Saint of Lost Footage

And so after many moons of months of cartons of fifths of hyper manic and panic planning, it was all over… all gone… poof… big bada-boom, blown to bejeezus in a wet hot American whirlwind 96-hour wad. Cinéma vixena vérité at its fantasy finest! Like any self-respecting shag of intellectual intercourse, I never ever wanted it to stop. However, one of the pitfalls of indie filmmaking on an aglet of a shoestring of a budget is the matter of proper pecuniary payment (dollars, dinero, ducats) to offer such gracious guys and gals for their time, their talent, their fealty and their faith. Just the thought of maybe being able to someday, in a gyrating galaxy not so far away, have the financial fortitude to be able to offer my Mad Ones a fraction of what they’re worth, well… that would just make me tits-happy!

I really cannot believe how amazing even just the raw footage from Act III looks! Oh do we have such wild and wonderful things to show you, and praise be to our very own golden god (well, golden-skinned, and although slightly tarnished, that still counts), Mr. Sasanka “Brown Sugar” Chowdary, for giving us the very second chance to do just that. You see kids, supposedly one of the beautiful things about modern filmmaking is the need to no longer have to shell out exorbitant amounts of cash & eons of time to get your film developed. Nope, that tarted-up trollop, technology, has managed to reduce the real reel down to these handy little wee-sized half-pint itsy-bitsy cards that fit into surreptitiously into the cameras we use. We’ve gone from developing to dumping, and believe you me dear readers, there is an inherent artistry to both of them.

You see kids, whether it was the mind-numbing/body-rocking exhaustion of a 13-hour shooting schedule the day before, or quite possibly Gremlins are alive and well and broke into Casa Diablo for the sole purpose of committing half-pint hell-raising, for some reason or another, one of the SD cards didn’t get dumped from the previous day when it was loaded into the camera for the final shoot on Monday. And since the final day consisted of naught else but the aforementioned tits and the ever-loving tacos, our minds were a dash bit preoccupied as daydreams of swirly girlies danced in our heads. So after the shoot, when all the cards were accounted for, and all the shots were being logged, I knew something was rotten in the rojo ojo state of Denmark, when Kato called with the “I’ve got good news and I’ve got bad news” greeting. Because what that really means is “I’ve got bad news and I’ve got ‘Oh fuck me with a chainsaw’ bad news!”

And so without further adieu, Kato informs me that a good three to four hours worth of footage from the big head shop shoot out scene on Sunday, had apparently shuffled loose this cinematic mortal coil and made its way to heaven, as there was no way in hell it was here on earth. So there we were, the location of the scene in question already restored to its original state, some of the actors from said scene already shaved and shorn, and a task of Herculean proportions to try and reschedule a re-shoot and reclaim our lost footages.

However, it was amidst my preparations for cinematic seppuku that I decided to post the announcement of my impending doom due to said digital devastation. All of a sudden out of the binary blue, a single comment from an actual friend (not one of those people you’ve never actually bloody met before ever you just thought their faceyspacey profile picture looked tasty and so you fancied them) managed to ignite the smallest of sparks of hope by offering restoration and resurrection. So before I could shuffle loose this mortal coil, SD Cards were exchanged, nails were bitten, smokes were smoked, days turned into nights back into days (okay, so it was really just a good bad good 48 hours or so) but still to my slack-jawed surprise, Brown Sugar managed to rescue 99% of the missing footages… that beautiful glorious basterd!

While I’m sure it was as simple as some sort of evil genius download file that he extrapolated from the ethos of the InterWebs, I like to imagine it was a bit more complicated than that. Like he was standing atop a Mayan temple, in sun god-like robes, while thousands of nubile naked nymphs were bowing to him and throwing small pickles at his feet, while he sacrificed a golden goat to the heathen gods of long ago until they came down from the heavens and proceeded to melt the faces off of the infidels all Indiana Jones style. Yeah… he probably just downloaded something, but still this is America dammit, melty-face pissed off pagan paladins always make for a much better movie.

And so, after filming what is going to be our greatest cinematic creation to date, I can honestly say that I have been to the top of the mountain and it is a bodacious bedlam of babes and badasses, a fee-fi-fo-fum of filmmaking and fast times, and it is good ladies and gentlemen. With the wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey exception of a faithful flashback featuring a father, a son, and a holy ghost lurking ever so surreptitiously in the background that would be shot later – Mad Ones Films was officially done with principal filming for Act III.

So as the sun sets slowly in the West, I bid you a fond farewell. Now begins the exciting editing exodus, a rum-rich fun-filled 40 days and nights of FCP shenanigans, and a whole other longwinded loquacious lambast. For those of you who have stayed the course and are still reading this, you either have the patience of a saint or the perversion of a sinner, or quite possibly, a juke joint juxtaposition of the two.

Be good true believers, and keep the faith, for what is coming next will blow your mind, steal your heart, and kick your ass, and that’s before the opening credits are even finished. Hallelujah!

x6x6x6,
Jaysen P. Buterin,
Creative Director, Mad Ones Films

www.madonesfilms.com
www.hotpinkjesus.com

The HPJ Trilogy Production Blog, “Have Faith, Will Travel” Day IV: Tits and Tacos… Enough Said!

PREVIOUSLY ON THE MAD ONES FILMS “EVERYTHING BUT A BLOG”…

“So after a brief but frenzied field trip back to Greensboro to shoot a quick pick-up outside of The Hill, I dismissed the tired troops for as unfading and everlasting as they were, a 13-hour film set can exhaust even the most relentless of rogues in our gallery. And thus, the only ones for me caught some z’s with the sandman (or woman) of their choice, as visions of the following day’s tasty treats danced in their bed heads.”

AND NOW… THE EAR-BITING, ATTENTION-DISTRACTING, CHERRY-POPPING, SINFULLY STUNNING CONCLUSION TO THE LATEST “CHOOSE YOUR OWN” MAD ONES FILMS ADVENTURE!!!

And so it was that on the fourth day of principal filming, the hot pink velvetine son of God decreed that the souls of the ones who were mad, shall rest… however, being the diabolical director that I am, I decided to save the very best – and breast – for last. For our final day of filming was focused on one very specific and prolific extravaganza of erotic eateries. That’s right true believers, the light and the beauty and the glory that is “Max Diablo’s Tits & Taco-Rama” had finally arrived here on Earth. The culmination of exhilaration, the fruition of mammarian weapons of mass distraction, the catharsis of the gyrating genesis of taco-shelled titillation!

I’m not going to lie to you kids, cause that’s a sin you know… I love tacos. In fact, I’d daresay that I love tacos almost but not quite entirely unlike as much as I love tits – but in a totally different tasty treat kind of way. You ever try and motorboat a tray of tacos? Pick the wrong shell and you could lose an eye. However, I digress, as I’m wont to do about breasts. Hells belles, I’ve even gone so far as to make a lascivious and laundry list of all the types of tits that have I’ve grown to fancy over the years but you’ll just have to pay exxxtra special attention (tits ahoy) to Act III to catch that particular “Tit List”.

So I’m pretty sure that the only things my friends have really heard pouring forth from my big furry gob over the course of the last three years has been, “Blah blah blah tacos… meow meow meow tits… yadda yadda yadda Hot Pink Jesus… ,” and that’s not terribly far from the truth actually. So imagine, if you will, the look of excitement on my mug, when “T & T & A Day” finally reared it’s beautiful head and it was time to light the fuse! Because after spending many manic moons thinking, drinking and creating the world that would house the sin-soaked stage where the vixens of virtue and vixens of vice strutted their siren song in high heels for low lifes, the real titular titty twister is that I didn’t even get to really enjoy it!

Now don’t get me wrong dear readers, turning the Garage into Max Diablo’s Tits & Taco-Rama was, by far, the most fun and visually stimulating (amongst other sensory stimulations) Mad Ones set that I’ve ever had the good graces to run. In fact, I was the crazy cool captain of the big ship Lolly Tops, for everywhere I looked, as far as the dilated eye could, was nothing but a sea of tits, and it was a beautiful godsdamn thing. I’m quite sure that I’ll be number one with a bullet on several of my friends XXX-Mas card lists, for some of those varmints got a four-hour lap dance AND tacos FOR FREE! While I, on the other hot little hand, being the dutifully diligent and decadent director, had to settle for sneaking side glances of side boobs as I directed an unfolding scene of the utmost sinful and sensoury debauchery that even a dirty young man like me could imagine.

Of course, it wasn’t all side-boob snucken (just for you baby) glances, as there were several instances where I had to “direct” the dancers on what I wanted for the scene and since there was no bloody point in covering up since uncovering was illicitly imminent, there I was face to… well, tits, with some of the most vivacious vixens the Triad has to offer. Sometimes, it’s really really really good to be the king.

So we got all of our establishing shots, and multiple takes from every (well, almost every) conceivable angle of my usual prurient & prolix style of crucial tongue-in-cheek/tongue-in-taco dialogue. With that out of the way, what ensued can only begun to be described as the “batshite b-roll bevy of boobs extravaganza”. For those of you scratching your heads trying to figure out what, in the bloodiest of hells I’m talking about (much like this entirely way too long directorial diatribe) this was when I put a camera in damn near every available crew members hand, cued up “Have Love, Will Travel” and told DJ Miguelito to pump up the volume. We then proceeded to run around like horny headless chickens filming close-up shots of tits, tacos, dancers, dancees, and even more tits. As if I didn’t have a big boy crush on Robert Rodriguez already, there was actually one point when the song stopped and as everyone paused momentarily, unsure as to what may come next, my diabolical bellow of “KEEP FILMING!!!” offered the right hedonistic homage to keep the talent shaking their proverbial moneymakers for another four minutes.

And so, ladies & gentlemen, we called the proverbial “martini shot” and afterwards several other shots (as well as beers, drinks and more beers) were had. The air was an aromatic mélange of sex, tacos, smoke & lust. In fact, the sexual tension was so thick, so palpable, so distracting, that by the time that everyone left, I’m quite surprised they managed to wait long enough to actually get in their cars before succumbing to the coming of the wowsers in their trousers. But then again, what do you expect when you subject an already deviant crowd to several hours of sin-soaked sexually-charged hedonistic honeycomb hideout hijinks?

Hell, we’re probably lucky that no “immaculate conceptions” occurred… for strange things can soon become afoot when those feet are attached to bodies forced to watch drop dead gorgeous swirlie girlies dancing the body electric, all for a bloke who looks like Jesus, all in the name of Hot Pink Jesus. And so my band of merry Mad Ones disbanded for the evening, off to seek solace, shelter, and (more than likely) salvation in the comfort of their real grown-up lives that pays the bills and passes the time (and calms the mind riot) in between MOF shoots. As I lay me down to sleep, I prayed the lord my soul to keep… except for that fact that I sold that soul many many manic moons ago. However, after seeing how absolutely drop-dead fucking tits-brilliant every single sinful thing about this film has turned out, I might just be willing to buy it (the soul) back… and trade it to my fuzzy hot pink messiah man.

Holy Hells & Hallelujah!
x6x6x6,
Jaysen

TUNE IN TOMORROW TRUE BELIEVERS FOR PART IV OF THE HPJ III PRODUCTION BLOG… now filmed live in front of a studio audience.

www.madonesfilms.com
www.hotpinkjesus.com

The HPJ Trilogy Production Blog, “Have Faith, Will Travel” Day III: A Mexican Standoff (sans Mexicans) & The Trailer Park of Lawn Dart Hearts

PREVIOUSLY ON THE MAD ONES FILMS “EVERYTHING BUT A BLOG”…

“With filming wrapping just after midnight, and just before the heavens opened up and washed away all the day’s sins, a cheers and a toast danced in the weary cast & crew heads, all snug as bugs in rugs, asleep in their beds.”

AND NOW… THE CHAIN-SMOKING, PULSE-POUNDING, TACO-TASTING, BUM-SPANKING, SINFULLY STUNNING CONCLUSION TO THE LATEST “CHOOSE YOUR OWN” MAD ONES FILMS ADVENTURE!!!

And so lo and behold, upon our rousing from Saturday night’s slumber, we awoke to find it Sunday… the Lord’s Day, or in our spiritually savvy case, the Hot Pink Lord’s Day – and the longest, most laborious day of the entire shoot! For those of you lucky enough to bear witness to the revealing rapture of the 48 Hour Film Project version of HPJ, you know how the original story ends – with a big bang shootout! Now for the super-sized Trilogy version, take said big bang, multiply it exponentially, take it from the counter outside of Robert Rodriguez’s kitchen, place it lovingly inside Michael Bay’s Easybake Oven and let Tarantino lick off the icing, and that’s how tasty of a treat this violent video vittle is going to be! Now it was time to bring in the big guns, point them straight at your heart, blow you a kiss and pull the trigger! And this particular big gun walks softly, carries a big-ass medieval spiked club AND boom stick, and goes by the name of Keenan… Patrick Keenan, aka “Lou Angeline”!!!

After taking our precious coffee communion at Area 51 and with the rich, aromatic body of Christ flowing thru our virtue & vice veins, I led an excited exodus around the corner to our first shooting location at One-Eyed Willie’s joint. With a holy hustle and a fun-filled flow myself, Kato, Señor Chao, Mikey, Jesse, K2B2, Beth & Lando managed to transform our hypnotic boutique into the illegal limbo known as “The Green Couch,” right as our almighty actors filed in for their final costumed countdown. Patrick Keenan had the silver-tongued charm of a snake oil salesman (and the facial hair of a Victorian vagabond), while Christy had Faith looking hotter than Georgia asphalt. Todd (as Rudy Valentine) brought a brand new trailer trash sophistication to track suits and Gavin (as my dapper doppelgänger) was pretty as a picture…a big ass ese, gun-toting, taco-obsessed, cozy little job with the Mexican mob-having picture.

So there we were, knee-deep and tits-up in the middle of a triangular firepower-fueled Mexican stand-off…technically sans any Mexicans (sorry Cholo, you’re blanco buddy, deal with it), but still, one of the most beautifully shot very best pieces of violence yours truly has ever been privy to. Tempers were flaring and trigger fingers were itchy while Faith was incredulously staring and Valentine got all twitchy – all culminating in an explosive and deadly denouement.

The Special FX/Make-up mastery of one Mr. Joh Harp, illusionist of the incredible, maestro of the macabre, and all-around cool cat, is another boastful notch on our Hot Pink headboard because it is his visual voodoo that shines like a crazy blood diamond when the gun smoke clears. One of the sanguine side effects of mixing even more bullets in with our booze is that those bullets tend to leave people much holier when “CUT” is called as opposed to “ACTION”. However in just a short time Joh and his lovely assistant, Nathan “Boom Boom” Boyd, generated a gory goodness that would make even the big boys of Hollyweird all mean-green with envy!

So how do I repay Joh and Nathan for such astounding aesthetic application of artistry? By sticking them both in warm and wooly ski masks and making them flee down the sidewalk in the cool mid-May mid-dasy sun while Patrick chases them with Mr. Bang Bang, of course! Now being the brilliant multitasking basterds that we are, Kato and Jesse headed outside to finish filming scene 3 with Marco while Mikey and I stayed inside with Faith and shot the very first scene of the film drop dead last – movie-making magic indeed!

Proof positive of the hot pink hive mind, both crews reunited (and it does feel so good) outside, called it a wrap and struck (not smote) the set. We hopped, skipped & jumped back over to Area 51 with just enough time to smoke ‘em, suck ‘em, and swallow – up their cigarettes, down their drinks, and “their food” of course… you dirty dirty monkeys, but I like where your minds went. That’s good because you’re going to need that kind of trailer park Byronic gypsy/tramp/thief streetsmarts, for the next stop on our magical mystery tour is the East Eden Trailer Park!

One of the monumental movie-making tall-building single-bound leaps we made going from Act I to Act III is an age-old universal adage… locations, locations, locations! Now, I’ve always been a fortunate son in the good graces of the film gods when it comes to finding damn near the perfect scene setting – or as close to perfect as filmmaking on an aglet of a shoestring of a budget will allow. But for Act III I needed something, somewhere truly spectacular… enter, stage left, one Ms. Beth Compton, lady luck location scout extraordinaire who led us out to Points on High where we filmed a very vital scene in the trailer park of my lawn dart heart dreams!

So there we were a mere hour or two later, deep in the tattooed heart of the “East Eden Trailer Park,” home (on wheels) to the big-dreaming grand-scheming Valentines. What followed was one of the most cinematically concupiscible shoots I have ever conducted, especially since I spent the first fraction of my formative years growing up in trailer parks. In fact, Todd and Lea’s powerhouse performance was so perfect, their chemistry so convincing on screen that for a shining second, I fully believed he was a former lawn dart champion and she a jaded jezebel slinging tacos in a titty bar!

Luckily for all souls involved, cherry red apocalypse or no, not a single land shark was spotted in the vicinity and the filming finished fantastically! So after a brief but frenzied field trip back to Greensboro to shoot a quick pick-up outside of The Hill, I dismissed the tired troops for as unfading and everlasting as they were, a 13-hour film set can exhaust even the most relentless of rogues in our gallery. And thus, the only ones for me caught some z’s with the sandman (or woman) of their choice, as visions of the following day’s tasty treats danced in their bed heads.

TUNE IN TOMORROW TRUE BELIEVERS FOR PART IV OF THE HPJ III PRODUCTION BLOG… now filmed live in front of a studio audience.

Holy Hells & Hallelujah!
x6x6x6,
Jaysen

www.madonesfilms.com
www.hotpinkjesus.com

The HPJ Trilogy Production Blog, “Have Faith, Will Travel” Day II: Stairway to Heaven, Funnybook Fun Time, and Roadside Rabblerousing

PREVIOUSLY ON THE MAD ONES FILMS “EVERYTHING BUT A BLOG”…
“For a first day, it went fantastically and phenomenally well. Two scenes down, 23 more to go… hallelujah! But rather than let the man and his stupid math get me down (where’s your metrics system now you Orwellian wanker? Oh yeah, everywhere else in the world but here…), instead I re-convened my Cinderella cast and my motley crew at El Mariachi later that evening for levity, libations, and of course, live mariachi music!”

AND NOW… THE HAIR-PULLING, NAME-CALLING, PANTY-DROPPING, NIP-SLIPPING, SINFULLY STUNNING CONCLUSION TO THE LATEST “CHOOSE YOUR OWN” MAD ONES FILMS ADVENTURE!!!

If the early bird gets the worm then the late bird gets to sleep off the katzenjammer cloud of a Mariachi hangover, then fly over to Area 51, which was also serving as our 2nd floor underground lair for the next two days due to its immediate proximity to our locations.

So while we got started filming the last scene of the film first, a lovely little exchange between star-crossed lovers in a stairway to heaven, or at the very least Faith, the rest of the MOF inmates relaxed in our state-of-the-commedia dell’arte green room – which was technically the front yard, the sidewalk and the #4 flat inside. We wrapped the stairwell scene, graciously filmed at Re:Cycles, and proceed to make the long trek to the next location – all the way up the stairs and next door. Christy Johnson, the sultry sexy siren playing Faith then proceeds to razzle and dazzle the fanboys at Parts Unknown into a near nerdgasm with her real live girl parts, before absconding with “El Jefe” and running away like a steel-toed girl on a Saturday night looking for the taco of her life.

After a brief break for the shoveling of food into gobs and the washing of libations down gullets, I gathered the second wave of HPJ crusaders for the roadside rabblerousing portion of the evening’s filming. Personally and professionally I was tits-excited as all get out because it meant the chance to once again work with Todd Fisher (a talent of unlimited depth and the only ancestral actor left from the primordial 48 Hour HPJ). It also gave me the opportunity to direct the lovely and luxurious lass Lea Beighley, who had never acted for me before, and the dashing devil Gavin Glass, who had never acted for anyone before!

So there we are, shooting street-side at one of the busier intersections, and outside of one of the rowdier bars, in all of Greensborodom. Now one of the bombshell beauties of making indie films is that it often sometimes means doing things slightly less than completely official, and perchance, legal. Therefore we can’t afford to block off city streets, clear out public areas, or pay police to police – our only real security being an Assistant Director with an impressively intimidating physical stature and a manic Director with a chip on his tattooed shoulder the size of Pangea. Needless to say, such mercy at so many different public x factors means that damn near every juiced-up jackass, drunken delinquent, or passed-over prom queen will invariably want to stagger into the scene for their close-up… or offer moral support in their best outdoor bellow/scream/wail/shriek.

However, the gods of film were indeed smiling upon us, for we were able to get the long laundry list of shots that I wanted, lit almost the way that Senor Chao wanted, shot the way that Jesse and Mikey wanted. Todd, Lea & Gavin performed far beyond my expectations and continued to do so all weekend. With filming wrapping just after midnight, and just before the heavens opened up and washed away all the day’s sins, a cheers and a toast danced in the weary cast & crew heads, all snug as bugs in rugs, asleep in their beds.

TUNE IN TOMORROW TRUE BELIEVERS FOR PART III OF THE HPJ III PRODUCTION BLOG… now filmed live in front of a studio audience.

Holy Hells & Hallelujah!

The HPJ Trilogy Production Blog, “Have Faith, Will Travel” Day I: Inchworms, Rock & Roll, and Mariachi… Oh My!

PREVIOUSLY ON THE MAD ONES FILMS “EVERYTHING BUT A BLOG”…
After ordering my tacos at my beloved El Mariachi (my very own bonito bandito honeycomb hideout), I was plagued by yet another brain-buggerer: how, in the sphincter of hell, was I going to bottle the lightning (from Act I) a second time for this third act, and a third time for the second act after that? The answer was easy… the answer was…

AND NOW… THE NAIL-BITING, CHAIN-SMOKING, JAW-DROPPING, NIP-SLIPPING, EDGE OF YOUR SEAT GRIPPING, SINFULLY STUNNING CONCLUSION TO THE LATEST MAD ONES FILMS ADVENTURE!!!

The answer was easy… the answer was… more. More. Mas. Più. Mehr. 更多. More booze, more bullets and the hottest, pinkest, most ass-kickingest, name-takingest Jesus that we could resurrect (again) to be the saviour of your bad behaviour. But we didn’t stop there… nay, we couldn’t stop there… in fact, dammit, we dare not stop there, for our very cinematic souls were on the line now. And so not only did we go with a cooler Canon camera choice, but we also turned a much more meticulous eye towards lighting design and sound engineering – a holy trinity of hell-raising issues that we experienced the first go-round on Act I.

But still, even that was not nearly enough… we needed to take a leap of filmmaking faith, and so I added several new auspiciously amazing acting inmates to the already stunning thespianic MOF menagerie. Talent of the highest calibre, the toppest notch, and the baddest ass was found in the forms of Christy Johnson, Patrick Keenan and Lea Beighley – as well as Gavin Glass and Erny Galvan, who (while still whiskey wet behind the acting ears) brought Cholo and Marco (respectively and reflectively) to ferocious life. Thus, with the stage set, and the sets dressed, and the actors dressed as the characters, and the characters poised in place on our sin-soaked stage (see there, circle of life), principal photography began on “Act III: Have Faith, Will Travel.” Now… step into the principal’s office…

Day I: Inchworms, Rock & Roll, and Mariachi… Oh My!
And so, after what felt like 40 sleepless nights, that first day of filming was upon us like a biblical plague! After many mesonoxian hours spent laboriously lucubrating over scenes and schedules, I had our entire shoot condensed into four fun-filled days. However, like the good book says, slow and steady wins the race (if the “good book” in this instance is a Saturday morning Bugs Bunny cartoon), and so we started off our Friday with essentially the first two scenes of the film.

The first squad of cinematic super soldiers gathered at Area 51, the up-till-recently raucous residence of Stumbles & Freckles, whose boudoir served as the cherry-popping location for Act III filming. After getting the scene set, lit, and ready to go we commence with a scantily-clad and curvaceous Christy (aka, Faith) waking from her noon-day slumber to discover some rather illicit insights into her boyfriend’s infidelity. So after unleashing the inchworm from its slumber, she dons additional scraps of clothing and speeds off into the stone-setting sun to confront said infidel.

(Alas, I dare not divulge too much more, lest I risk being keelhauled by my own edict for sailing the seas of spoilers… nevertheless, let’s just say that the Great Alabaster Inchworm steals the scene, if not your hearts, with its everyman struggle for freedom)! With scene 1 in the proverbial bag, or snare drum case as it were, we tarted up and darted off for the second location of day – a lovely little bohemian enclave full of little boxes for big bands to play bad beats in. Joined by the lovely lads in The Animal Mothers (née Silver Bullet née Starlyn Garvy) who riotously portrayed our rockers & rollers, a scene of utter foolishness, fidelity, and phalluses unfolded before our very eyes… in exactly that order. By this time the merciless backbeat of the afternoon sun, even for those shooting inside the great easy bake oven of a storage space, had won and so the gear was broken down, the toys put away and the actors dismissed while several of the MOF inmates and I prepped the location at Re:Cycles for the next day’s shoot.

For a first day, it went fantastically and phenomenally well. Two scenes down, 23 more to go… hallelujah! But rather than let the man and his stupid math get me down (where’s your metrics system now you Orwellian wanker? Oh yeah, everywhere else in the world but here…), instead I re-convened my Cinderella cast and my motley crew at El Mariachi later that evening for levity, libations, and of course, live mariachi music! Many laughs were shared, many beers were had, and many noble and brave tacos offered up their lives, so that the Gospel of Hot Pink Jesus could be spread another day.

TUNE IN TOMORROW TRUE BELIEVERS FOR PART II OF THE HPJ III PRODUCTION BLOG… filmed live in front of a studio audience.

Holy Hells & Hallelujah!