Dear Set Diary,
For the second time, we’re going on location – which is convenient for me, because today’s set is literally next door to my office.
With the premiere coming up on September 30, and a clip show on September 23, there's work to be done. A crew from ABC.com is here filming teasers to follow the writers video-blogs that our associate producer, Sparky Hawes, set up for this season. Michael Morris had the idea to give the 4th floor assistants a crack at taping the teasers. Fun, right?
Wrong.
Sparky: "This exhibit is now closed!"
What this means is that three of my closest colleagues, Beth, Ben and Dan, are anxiously buzzing around my office in rehearsal. To judge by their actions, the fate of the world is in the balance that hangs not five feet from my desk.
Beth dabs her forehead, wiping sweat off her brow. “Now I know how the actors feel.”
Ben wraps himself in a blanket, sips an English Breakfast tea, and “gets into character.”
Dan stares at the light switch and God knows where his mind has gone.
The pressure of the camera has turned them into fidgeting jellyfish.
Ben has a different blankie for every day of the week.
Meanwhile, our set dressers have finished converting Cliff Olin’s office (the one next door to mine) into a, well, writery-looking office. There’s a white board, a Red, White & Blue poster and, per Mark Perry, a dart board.
The lights have turned on and the camera is powered up. “Who’s ready?” asks one of the dot-com producers. Beth conveniently rises from the couch. “I have to get notes from Mark. Someone else should go.” Dan looks at her as she leaves, wishing he could have come up with the same excuse.
Ben takes a sip of tea and coolly declares, “I am.” Dan looks at me as if to say – thank God. But we both know his reprieve will be short lived. Ben takes a seat in Cliff’s office and the cameraman readies his mic.
Mark Perry said he wouldn't change a thing.
Several of the writers notice the action and pop their heads inside. “What the --?” But after eyeing Dan’s nervous face, they realize the response wouldn’t be worth their time and duck away before it comes.
Beth reenters my office just as Ben walks out. “That was great, Ben,” declares the producer unconvincingly. Beth and Dan exchange looks.
“Don’t worry, they’ll edit out anything you screw up,” says Ben.
Dan is next. Rehearsing the lines in his head, Dan takes a loooong time to sit down and look at the camera with any semblance of ease. He looks like someone working a little too hard at passing a field sobriety test.
Dan pretending to like Beth's teaser for episode 204.
The door closes behind Dan. God be with him.
Now it’s just Beth. She tips her head in my direction and the blood has suddenly washed her face white.
“Oh my goodness, I’ve forgotten what my episode is about. Do you remember 203?!?!” asks Beth. The air leaves the room. Before I can speak up and remind her it’s just a podcast and not Saturday Night Live, Beth flashes a smile. She’s only kidding. “God, why do you look so nervous?” she says.
The door opens and Dan has finished in less time than it took for him to walk through the doorway. I wish Beth luck and she confronts the camera.
A quiet descends on my office. Dan has gone wherever he needs to detox. Ben is back to taking notes in the writers’ room. And I’m secretly wishing the online crew would burst out laughing and someone would yell, “Man, that’s gonna be HUGE on YouTube.”
Jennifer Cecil and Mark Perry had no problem at all with the writers video for 203.
As I reflect on the morning and the turmoil my friends, all of who are writers in their own right, have put themselves through, I can only come to one conclusion.
Don’t put writers on camera.
-- Andrew Major
