Right now I’m tired enough to walk into walls, but we’re having a great time. When the director and I assembled our team for the Detroit-Windsor International Film Festival Challenge, one of our crew was designated “fixer” — he was the guy who could get us locations, talk us into private homes, etc. Among the goodies in his existing tool belt were a big scary decaying mansion and a limo.
We needed the limo. Every time I look at it, I chuckle. A 1977 Lincoln Continental stretch, navy blue, customized with TV antenna (the TV’s long gone), venetian blinds (1977 being before window tinting), and no fewer than three 8-track tape decks. There’s even a flagstaff on the front bumper. Plastic seat covers. Pervasive interior mildew smell indicating long warehousing. Oh, it is glorious:
The edit bay is so busy now it’s smokin’. Five hours to deadline.