Fillmore

After three days in the sleepy center of Lake Piru, we traveled the extra 10 miles up to Fillmore. The distant town is more like a small mountain city. Quaint in its façade, with small shops in its sprawling town center. Like Lake Piru, the energy of the people and the place is lethargic. It seems like being in a rush to go anywhere or do anything just isn’t a plausible option.

I spent some time in Fillmore a few weeks ago. I was working on a pilot staring Skeet Ulrich and Gerald Macgreve. As an additional PA, I had little required of me other than to be there to help where needed. Fillmore high school is where I met an electric who I quite fancy. He makes me smile everyday and I admire him more each day I know him. But while he’s off snowboarding I have returned to the town we met, jealous that I’m not off playing in the powder.

Arriving midday, we sent up camp in big white tents next to the railway. Under full moon, we closed off Main Street to do some inserts and a car stunt. I have worked on a few different car stunts before, but never at a location like this. With so many opportunities for people who are not with the film to wonder their way into danger, there was a certain level of stress necessary to stay aware and alert at all times.

But as the evening passed and the townspeople lay still in their quite homes, stress turned to an air of death. As I walked along the railway from set to extras holding, I felt the history creeping though my bones. Like something bad happened here. Workers died for these railways and suffered when they became obsolete. It reminded me of my hometown of Lowell in a way, the air of history on grief.

Strange how two coast can be so differant but the dark history and suffering of the industrial age can be felt throughout.

Casino Morango

Stay, play, and work.

No clocks, nothing but time wasted. As the hours pass, the same stale lighting hovers over the clanks, bells and whistles. A cloud of smoke lingers and the stale scent sticks to my shirt, my breath, my hair.

This week we shot in casino Morongo in Cabazon, CA. It is an Indian reservation turned casino. As you drive east into the desert, the casino looks like an oasis of lights jutting up into the night sky. Ideal for a weekend retreat, this casino is two hours outside LA without the hassle of Vegas traffic.

Fun for some, you will never see me vacationing there. Partially because I’m not one to gamble, a personal choice with no judgment against those who do. But mostly because I never want to be stuck there again. With restaurants and other lively attractions sparsely scattered outside the casino, there is no reason to leave the resort. It seems like a rough life to be stuck in a casino with beautiful rooms, soft beds, 24 hour gambling, a concert venue, pool and spa, and sky restaurant. But, sometimes you just need to breath non-recycled air.

All bitterness aside, I am happy to have had the experience to work on a shoot in a live casino. We doubled the Morongo for our own factious casino but we only own parts of the casino at a time. I would line up a hundred of the 200+ extras and walk them through rows of live slot machines or poker tables to our floating sets. We would stage our equipment in lounges and steakhouses and eat in their buffet. It was a hazy dream that seemed unreal even as it was happening.