I'd write a web series that could be shot entirely in Becky and my apartment. We wouldn't have to worry about pesky things like securing locations and ... um ... leaving home.
It seemed to make so much sense. And then shooting began. And then we rented a fog machine.
It's disturbing how quickly "my stuff" becomes "the set" and you will nail any one thing to anything else, if it will get the shot. Just get the shot!
That's disturbing, but not so much as the fog machine we rented. A real classic, there was a vessel for liquid on each side of the device. One side read, "Use only fog juice here: NO INSECTICIDE." Reassuring. You can see the picture for what the other side read.
So, we had six days of shooting where between every take Hement or Dodd would yell "Smoke it up!" and we'd fill whatever room we were in fog. Then we'd all sit there breathing in the hot vaporized version of whatever fog juice really is (mineral water based, my initial checks conclude ... and dry cleaning will get it out should it splatter all over something you don't want splattered with fog juice - but it does leave a film that will make your tile floors extremely slippery). It doesn't smell like smoke, but it smells like ... something. Strangely, the fog smelled a little like anywhere between 5-8 people in a room where we couldn't have the windows open, all the doors had to be shut and I'm stuck holding a microphone over my head much longer than I'm used to holding things over my head.
We'd breath all that in as we waited for the fog to settle a bit. Then we'd try to get the shot.
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