South Africa Travel Diary: Part 1
January of 2018, I had gotten a call from a writer/director colleague and friend. He is/was heavily involved in various projects for The Asylum (Sharknado movie series, Z-Nation), which produces horror and sci-fi films in the “mockbuster” genre. However, they also make a number of period war films, and it was on one of these, Operation: Dunkirk, in which I was first brought into The Asylum’s fold, supplying camera and camera support rentals to the production, as well as serving as 2nd Unit Cinematographer.
From a cinematography perspective, the film was fairly successful. Several months after wrap, our film’s Producer sent the crew a cryptic email, which simply, but excitedly stated: “it’s good… really good.” Whispers were that Operation: Dunkirk was one of The Asylum’s best films to date, and I think that speaks volumes to the enthusiasm and dedication of the crew. Speaking for myself, I feel that by the time we shot Operation: Dunkirk, I had become well-versed in the art of shooting low / micro budget films (and I truly do believe it’s a skill set all it’s own), and had a workflow and approach to spin gold out of some challenging shooting conditions.
Perhaps it was with this in mind that I was contacted about a new project for The Asylum, titled 6-Headed Shark Attack. The film, as you can reasonably guess, is about (spoiler alert) a 6-headed shark that attacks people, and was set to film in South Africa. The answer was an immediate “yes”. Not only because it was the chance to work with a great team on a fun project, but frankly, it was the opportunity to get out of Wisconsin in February and go film in an exotic location - also my first time filming internationally.
“Really, it’s hard to undersell the bind we could have found ourselves in, had fate and a series of lucky decisions not helped us. ”
Pre-production time on Asylum films is notoriously short. I was contacted in early January; principle photography was set to begin early February. South Africa was chosen because it needed to be shot in winter of 2018 to be ready in time for an August release window, and South Africa being in the southern hemisphere, is in peak summer filming season at that time. Flights and carnets (import/export documentation) were filed, set, and ready to go.
Over the next few weeks, up until my flight out, I coordinated with the director and production to craft a camera rental package, balancing what would work best for a variety of expected shooting scenarios, and what could be reasonably transported abroad. We settled on: two red camera packages, tripod & head, gimbal, media, lenses, shoulder mounts, wireless video and follow focus, plus a few assorted extras. Due to limits on weight (even with the extra allowance for media credentials) and number of cases, I made the bold choice to pad random pieces of gear with my clothes, and have my travel-on bag be a 1510 containing 2 camera brains, monitors, media, and lenses. I had no way of knowing at the time, but this would end up being a lucky decision.
A few days later, I stepped out of swirling polar winds into the airport, navigated customs with a stack of equipment cases as large as I was, boarded my flight, and began my 18-hour journey to Cape Town, South Africa.
Almost immediately upon landing is when my growing pains with international business travel began. I de-boarded, picked up my bags, and casually made my way through customs - or that was the plan. I was stopped; apparently, my carnet had been filled and processed on the US side not to the liking of customs officials in South Africa. Suddenly I got a cold sweat. They had to confiscate my baggage until everything could be properly verified.
You can imagine the stress of having a film production with a tight schedule and which is reliant on your equipment, only to have that equipment taken from you. I called the Producer, who was at the airport waiting for me. To his credit, he was much more calm about it than I was. We grilled the customs officials, got a list of the documentation we needed to have re-issued, and made our peace with the situation.
I was allowed to take one case of personal items with me, and in a moment of subterfuge, I chose the pelican 1510 - the case with both cameras, media, and lenses in it. Screw my clothes; at the very least, if push came to shove, we could shoot the film with what was in that case. With my mind fried from the 18-hour flight, and the shock of my showdown with customs wearing off, I hardly remember the early-morning drive to our lodging in the oceanside town of Muizenberg.
“Think Tarantino’s character Jimmy in Pulp Fiction referring to a dripping-wet Vincent Vega wearing a UC Santa Cruz Banana Slugs t-shirt. “Dorks. They look like a couple of Dorks.” I was the dork.”
What I do remember is the next morning, waking up to billowing curtains, and a warm, salty breeze - the absolute opposite of what I had left in Wisconsin. The producer and I regrouped. We had our mission: to get the additional documentation needed to free our gear from customs. Fortunately everything that was needed could be overnighted to us (albeit at a minor expense), and even more fortunately, our schedule had 4 days of padding in it from when I landed, to when filming began. We lucked out. Massively. Really, it’s hard to undersell the bind we could have found ourselves in, had fate and a series of lucky decisions not helped us.
Over breakfast, The Producer and I realized our next problem, which thankfully, was a much easier fix. While I was able to sneak our essential camera gear through customs, the rest of it - and my clothes which were being used as padding - were secured in a vault at the airport.
So I walked the seaside shops of Muizenberg, a surfer-centric vacation destination, buying a cache of the absolute cheapest (and by extension: tackiest) tourist garb to last me a couple of days. Think Tarantino’s character Jimmy in Pulp Fiction referring to a dripping-wet Vincent Vega wearing a UC Santa Cruz Banana Slugs t-shirt. “Dorks. They look like a couple of Dorks.” I was the dork.
Around this time, shipping notifications started hitting our emails for the documents we requested. Arrival would have them to us comfortably before we were scheduled to start. With the worst of the crisis behind us excitement finally started to build for both the film production that was to begin, and to explore these new surroundings.
Continued in: South Africa Travel Diary: Part 2
As demonstrated in the case of 6-Headed Shark Attack, I think there’s a series of lessons any video production should keep in mind when traveling abroad:
Pad your schedule. Things won’t go flawlessly. They never do. You won’t hop off the plane and be greeted by friendly, cooperative customs officials. Nor will you instantly have a lay of the land, or be ready to jump headfirst into production. Just as a company move requires time and planning, an international company move requires a larger padding of time and additional planning. Those 4 days of padding at the start of our production literally saved us.
Make yourself fully aware of carnets, customs, imports, etc., and have contingency plans in place. For me, this was my first time using carnets. In hindsight, I should have researched the essential question: “what happens if this is held up - regardless of valid or invalid reasons - when I land?” In my case, the answer to this question was fairly simple, and required getting copies of paperwork. But productions should definitely plan in case a dispute isn’t that simple to resolve.
Stay calm and keep a clear head. Nothing was going to get solved by yelling at customs officials. Nor was anything with the film production going to be made easier by panicking. We simply determined what we needed to do, and acted decisively to execute that plan. We initiated the solution quickly, meaning the problem was resolved quickly, with plenty of time to spare.
If you are bringing equipment, make decisions about what is and is not essential, and pack accordingly. My distrust of baggage handlers led me to packing the cameras, lenses, and essential accessories into a case that was more innocuous than the others. I unknowingly helped myself, ensuring that the most essential and irreplaceable parts of the camera package would remain fully in my possession. Consider more low-key options like photographer’s padded backpacks, or if traveling with multiple individuals, dividing the essential pieces of camera gear amongst those traveling. And at the end of the day, as terrible as it sounds, you’re making a film, and the camera takes priority over even your clothes.