The 11th Hour- Story of The Making Of "The Targets" pt. 4

My gut hurt a lot in those days. I'd still been smoking cigarettes, and always nervous. Strangely enough, I never even drank coffee.

I knew something was up when Lizette had taken a few days off. "Exhaustion" was all Mark could say. "Hope it wasn't anything I'd said or done" I returned. Mark shook his head, "it's a lot to deal with."Mark seemed unusually calm for a shoot that was happening in a week. I figure if you're paid to get blown up or thrown out of helicopters, I'm sure starting a movie wouldn't keep you up at night. But I didn't know a few things.

For one, Mark had people he was dealing with to secure the money. So far a deposit had been made but we needed the full amount in order to secure the completion bond. The money were from some...questionable people. To this day I'm not sure who Mark was tapping into. But I doubt it wasn't anything that he'd get in over his head. People in this business really like Mark because he is an honest person, and genuinely nice. Two traits that Hollywood has very little of. At worst, I think he was leveraging a few of his homes.

I sensed something was up when the week before we'd gone location scouting downtown. There were these stand alone sets that required the tiniest bit of art/set work. I mentioned to the VERY inexperienced production designer that we needed to "tech down" the walls to be able to photograph. To which Mark insisted we shot "as-is." I argued that it wasn't even picture ready, meaning...it's not, at its most basic, ready to be filmed. He ignored me and we moved on to the lot tour. You see, anything I suggested costs money. And Mark wouldn't say we couldn't afford something. Only offering solutions "Ah, just throw a plant in front of it." That type of shit. I didn't know then, I do now...when compromises are made that come from the director, it's usually because there is no money for it. Duh.

The days blew by until the night before the shoot. My friend and gaffer from film school and I were going over game plans. We were psyching ourselves up. No mistakes. No stress. No prisoners. Yeah, strike that last one. We wanted so bad for this to go. I got the call that night around 10PM.

"Hey, it's over. Money's not in place, we have to postpone. Shutting down the office." Mark's voice was steady but disappointed. I would say he'd sunk in $50k in just pre-production costs and securing actors and vendors, office. I can't remember what I mumbled, but I'd hung up the phone and told my friend that it was over. If I were to say now what it was, it was a charade. We were phonies acting as if we were with the big dogs. It felt great that industry was taking us seriously. I mean, enough for people to put us on the map of ongoing production. This was literally the 11th hour when the plug was pulled and we'd not ONE prospect since all our time was invested in this one project. We were bankrupt in money and in possibilities. Yet, at that age...this was a set back, never aware it would end our careers. The hardest part was to go back to the vendors and tell them we got the plug pulled. Many were more sorry for me than for themselves. Others added that you haven't worked in this town until you have that happen. None of it made me feel better about it.

This was a fluke production that occurred and as fast as it showed up, it disappeared. It's not an abnormal thing, I've come to find out. A TON of movies get pulled. Nothing is in the can until it's in the can. And people who promise you money, isn't a done deal until those numbers show in your production account. This isn't just for small movies like this one, "Troubled" productions usually come from people with really cold feet. Or the most ridiculous reason to quit. There actually is no reason. I just knew we sat in some Sherman Oaks apartment wondering what'd just happened. No one wanted to talk about it. And it's hard to talk about it now, since it can only be a jinx, if you believe in that type of thing. We've all moved on to other things. We've crossed paths and done work together in other capacities. But this one lingering pink elephant hangs in the room when there is a get together. "The Targets" never got made. No crane shot over the side of a building. No fast cars, pretty women. No nothing. Just another script in a pile somewhere.

A week ago, I got a text from Mark, in Atlanta "Hey, I got a script you've got to read..."
Why not?