"Without dollar signs, people don't think you are serious."
- Art Hall, independent movie director
What does $9,000 get you these days? A weekend in the Presidential Suite of the Beverly Hills Hotel, a Concorde flight to London and back, about two-days'-worth of catering on the average movie set, maybe a feature film.
That last item might sound unlikely, given that most movies have production budgets that run in the millions-of-dollars. But two Anne Arundel Community College students, Art Hall and Chris Walls, have more modest aspirations: They figure $9,000 will be enough to pay for the movie they have been filming since last month.
For one thing, making a movie is a blast, Hall says. "You can't find anything better."
Hall and Walls' foul-mouthed comedy, The Money Shot, follows two amateur filmmakers who set out to make a porn film with an actual plot and chronicles the hodgepodge of characters they encounter on the way. Hall insists there is no nudity in the movie, which doubtless presents a problem: making a film about porn without actually showing any skin.
But perhaps that is the least of their worries.
For one thing, they realize the odds are against them. All over Maryland and throughout the country, budding producers and directors are scraping together financing and shooting movies they hope will be their springboard to careers behind the camera.
If they're lucky, their completed films might end up available for rental at some well-stocked video stores - like Baltimorean Lowry Brooks Jr., whose Mala Voodoo hit the shelves back in 1994. The really fortunate few might have their movies picked up by a cable network. Some might get shown at a film festival or two, might even find their way to a major studio and pique some executive's interest. That hardly ever happens, but it could.
Still, that's not what fuels people like Hall and Walls. Hall said that he began scripts a few times in the past without completing them, but this time, "I wanted to take it from page to full script to final product." Obviously, these guys are committed. They have to be, given what they put up with on a daily basis.
While shooting on a not-quite-Hollywood set - a ship repair shop in Brooklyn Park - on a boiling July afternoon, with a volunteer cast and crew, Hall and Walls recount the litany of difficulties: cast members who come and go with little warning, external sounds that constantly ruin shots, securing locations that can be had for free, making-do with jerry-rigged cameras that mimic the capabilities of equipment too expensive for them to buy.
The trick is finding creative and unique ways to stretch their modest budget. "The level of creativity just sky rockets," said Dale Boyer of Millersville, the movie's sound technician.
To pay for their film, the pair borrowed money from Hall's parents, dipped into their savings and stored away money from their part-time jobs (Hall is a Domino's delivery guy, Walls a data entry clerk). They've also worn a lot of hats on the set: they are co-producers, co-writers - the film is loosely based on their own lives - and co-lead actors.
Plus, Hall adds, "The crew acts and the actors do crew stuff."
Money hasn't been the only hurdle. Hall, from Pasadena, complains about not being taken seriously. "If they don't see 20 light rigs and a massive camera, they think you are making a porno," he says. Of course, the plotline might not help.
Finding locations for filming has also presented a problem. Director Hall and assistant director Walls, who hails from Columbia, asked friends and family to help out with locations. They borrowed an RV from one friend and the location on which they are shooting on this day from another.
Hall recalls a time when they were shooting in downtown Baltimore and a homeless man walked right into the shot. Despite the unwanted invasion of their filming space, Hall said it made for a great shot that they would have used, except that Walls couldn't stop laughing. Even today, they make frequent stops to wait out inconsiderate overhead planes, rumbling cars or ringing telephones.
Walls, who is slightly rounded, and Hall, who is tall and broad-shouldered, engage in friendly banter about everything from forgetting lines to the various bizarre props. They complement each other well; Walls tends to get excited, while Hall stays relaxed. Off-camera, the duo are all jokes and laughs, but point a camera in their direction, or tell them it's time to set up a shot, and professionalism takes over.
In the beginning, a couple of actors dropped out, which wasn't unexpected or terribly hard to work around, Hall said. But as the production moved along, a couple more actors dropped out, causing extensive re-writing and re-casting - a process that became more and more burdensome.
Still, the group of 47 - 42 cast, five crew - has remained loyal to a production they are not getting paid to work on. "They enjoy it! It's what they love to do." Hall says. "They know this has promise, and if it does go anywhere, they know they were a part of it."
Walls said the shortest day of shooting was five hours, the longest 14. The filming has dominated their lives. "I think about this film about 90 percent of the time," Walls says. "The other 10 percent I am at work." Agrees Hall, "Outside of work, my mind is here, and even at work, my mind is here."
Boyer runs the sound, works on set design and has even acted. A father of two - at 29, he's practically the old man of the set - his paying job is in the media department at Anne Arundel Community College. "It's not easy, but [my wife] knows how much I enjoy this and is very willing to work with me."
Enjoyment is key, especially when the temperature is over 90, filming is being done inside and the air conditioner is shut off (the sound of the unit gets picked up by the lone microphone). Sweat is everywhere as the cast and crew receive a pre-shoot pep talk from Hall and Jeremiah Prevatte, director of photography. Reminding everyone of the expression, "Hurry up and wait," Prevatte stresses people need to be ready to work at a moment's notice. They only have two days to shoot here.
Hall and Walls have just started a promising discussion about what their action figures would look like when Prevatte yells, "Quiet on set!"
When the two principals are being filmed, the 20-year-old Prevatte, of Towson, takes over the role of directing. "Art and Chris have so much to do. I don't like to call the shots," he explains, "but on a day like this, I have to."
Once filming begins, the mood becomes surprisingly professional. Nothing gets in the way of getting the job done.
Nothing, that is, except for the ocassional forgotten line (usually accompanied by a quick curse), need to re-position the single camera or waiting for those annoyingly intrusive cars to go by (again, it's the sound issue).
The two neophyte filmmakers have a few projects waiting in the wings, not including The Money Shot II, which they are optimistic will be the end result of considerable public clamor.
Hall and Walls might never make it beyond the filmmaking fringe, but they can dream. Director, writer and actor Kevin Smith, a comic-shop owner and part-time comic-book writer, began his career with the low-budget black and white flick Clerks (1994). The project was funded entirely by credit cards and cost almost $25,000.
"Over the previous few years a friend of mine, Brian, and myself had this running competition to get as many credit cards as possible," Smith told Stephen Lowenstein in his book My First Movie. "It's one of those things you do when you are bored. I figured we can make this movie for $25,000 and I have enough room on my credit cards to do that. So let's just shoot and start cutting it, and when we hit $25,000 we start worrying."
Since Clerks, Smith has carved out a niche for himself with such films as Dogma (1999) and, most recently, Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back (2001).
Hall and Walls realize the odds are against them, that they might never make a name for themselves as filmmakers. But they might, and that helps keep them going.
Oh yeah, that and one other thing.
When it's all over and their film is ready to be shown, Hall explains, he has one thing he can't wait to say.
"I finally made my first movie."
Sun news researcher Jean Packard contributed to this article.