Testing times
Keanu ReevesI have written before about how my job can bring out strange emotions in people. Appear somewhere with a camera and folk have a tendency to act like complete jerks. In my last post about my strange job over a year ago, I talked about the usual kind of nonsense comment I and my colleagues are subjected to from punters in the mildly irritating world of corporate video.
I said this:
There are common phrases that people I come across during my job say to me like it’s the first time I’ve ever heard them. Problem is, these people are paying you, so you can’t respond to them like they are annoying drunks that accost you in a nightclub.You must chuckle as if it is indeed the first time you have ever heard the following laughsome nuggets:
“Hey Misssy, I’m not doing my interview ’til I’ve seen my trailer! Hehehehehe!
“Hey Misssy, when’s my shower scene? Hehehehehehe!”
(Shouted to the bloke you’re filming by a workmate), “Hoi Jim, you’ll be getting your Equity card next! Hehehehehe!” (Much laughter from both parties)
(Shouted to the bloke you’re filming by a workmate), “Hoi Jim, you need a touch more makeup mate!” (Much laughter from both parties)
“Hey Misssy, does your wee dog bite?” (gesturing to the furry windshield for the mic)
What I didn’t blog about was the annoyance and paranoia that you are sometimes subjected to as a camera crew when you appear at a worksite of any description. I wish I could say it were rare but sadly it isn’t. Very often the folk who’ve commissioned you to do a programme in their worksite neglect to tell the workforce that you will be filming them. Or worse, they have told them and they’ve all run away. A mixture of the two happened in Canada.
However, in the shoot in question worse happened, and me and my cameraman were subjected to something that I’ve only experienced a couple of times in my increasingly long and drawn out career as a corporate video director; aggression, paranoia, hostility and Parental Advisory language.
The Paranoia
We’re there for three whole days. We’re filming drills and safety notices and safety inductions. It’s dull. Yet I could match every Canadian celebrity who the world thinks is American with the following types of approaches from the gossip bound crew:
“Hey, we hear you guys are from the news, whatya filming us for?” (And I’m matching that with Jim Carrey, native of Newmarket, Ontario)
“Hey, are you guys from the Discovery Channel?” (And I’m matching that with Mike Myers, native of Scarborough, Ontario)
“Hey, I don’t want filmed for the fucking news..” (And matching that one with Neil Young, native of Ontario)
“So I hear you guys are with the Discovery Channel” (What are you guys, bloody migrating wildebeest?) (Matching that one with Keanu Reeves, native of Toronto. Yeah, really you thought he was Hawaiian. He’s not. No really.)
Those kind of comments were often said to us directly but more frequently we overheard whispers of “news crews…” “Discovery channel”…”Documentary crew”….as people cleared a room or site that we entered. I haven’t been able to watch the Discovery Channel since, in case I see any documentaries on people lifting supply containers onto ships. Life’s just too bloody short.
Here’s what I would like to have said in response to these comments: “Why the blue blazes would any news channel or a documentary team or ANYONE be on this pile ‘o’ junk filming you dullards? Why? What are you up to that ANYONE would be interested in? What’s that you say? Nothing?…No, nothing, you’re dull, you’re guys hitting things with spanners and welding stuff, what’s to watch? Some of you can barely speak coherent sentences and touch your nose with your finger never mind be of international concern or interest. Now can I just film you taking the stairs safely or wearing the correct protective equipment, yes? Thank you.”
What I did actually say: “No, we’re not. We’re making your safety induction video. Now can I just film you taking the stairs safely or wearing the correct protective equipment. Thank you.”
I didn’t get where I am today by being honest with people.
Hostility
Misssy: Hi, we’re here to film your safety induction video. Can I just ask if we could round up some guys to pretend to have a safety meeting so we can film it?
Person: Nah, I’m too busy.
****
Misssy: Hi, we’re here to film your safety induction video. Can I just ask if we could round up some guys to pretend to have a safety meeting so we can film it?
Person: Yeah go and see person X. She’ll sort it out. I’m too busy.
****
Misssy: Hi, we’re here to film your safety induction video. Can I just ask if we could round up some guys to pretend to have a safety meeting so we can film it?
Person X: What? Why is this my job? Who said this was my job? I don’t have any time for this? No. No way. Why do you even need to film that stuff. I’m way too busy.
****
Misssy: Hi, we’re here to film your safety induction video. Can I just ask if we could round up some guys to pretend to have a safety meeting so we can film it?
Person Y: Come back tomorrow.
Missy: We leave tomorrow.
Person: Then I’m too busy.
****
Misssy: Hi, we’re here to film your safety induction video. Can I just film you two guys sitting here in the smoking lounge. We need the footage.
Person A : Why the fuck do you need that?
Missy (whispers to cameraman): Record, dammit, record!
Person B: (As camera rolls, to Person B) Dude, why the fuck are they filming us?
Person A: I don’t fucking know.
Person B: I hear they’re from the fucking Discovery Channel.
Person A: Maybe they are making a programme about our migratory patterns.
Person B: Fucked if I know….
****
All of the above happened. …repeatedly. OK a little artistic license with the last one, but they did say everything other than “migratory patterns” on tape, so I’ve proof. Apologies for the swearing. I did warn you with the Parental Advisory bit at the front. And as my son says, “It doesn’t count if you’re quoting.”
Aggression (and Mild Peril)
I finally get some people who’ve been coerced into appearing in our shots. They also just happen to be the people who will use the DVD we are producing most. I know!
Misssy: So… I just need one of you guys to be in shot.
Person X: Well, it sure as hell ain’t gonna be me, I can tell ya that! (Slamming stuff shut and hurumphing about like a two year old)
Misssy: I actually don’t mind who it is. Can you decide which one of you it’ll be and just do your job as you would normally and we’ll record you doing it? It won’t take long and then we’ll leave you alone.
Person X: It ain’t about time! I don’t care how long it takes! It ain’t about time!
Misssy: Listen, I don’t care why none of you will help us. All I know is that if I don’t film you guys you won’t have a safety DVD and you won’t be able to legally operate. Now, it won’t take more than five minutes.
Person Y: It ain’t about that. It ain’t about time!
Misssy: Listen, I don’t CARE what it’s about. I just need the shot, OK?
Person Y: Hey there, don’t you..don’t you get testy!
Misssy: (speechless)
Now, that conversation actually happened. Two things to point out. Before this happened, we got thrown out of their office whilst they went mental about having to be filmed. Then their boss told them to get on with it. Then we came back in and tried to be pleasant as we realised we were 3 miles from shore and couldn’t leave so had to get on with it.
Second thing. The urge to laugh at the word “testy” was strong in me, and I managed to stifle it. You’ve no idea how hard that was. For one it sounds exactly the same as “teste” and I have a childish sense of humour. For another the guy who said “Hey there, don’t you get testy!” was consumed with rage yet said something so Ned Flanders that he may as well have been yellow with a cookie duster moustache. And the third thing is, I had to put up with insanely unprofessional levels of rage but as soon as I started to mildly assert myself I was likened to a bollock. There’s no justice in this world of ours.
That word “testy” might have been the words of a raging Ned Flanders-alike, but man, it was the Canadian equivalent of a Sicilian insulting someone’s Mama. He said “testy” and by God he meant “testy”!
Sometimes I bloody love my job. Not this time, though, not this time.
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Five Ways to get Through Your Office Christmas Party
Please don’t let this be you
So I’ve done a Christmas post already. I know. Just like the shops, I’m setting out my Christmas stall early and having old ladies walk past me muttering about Christmas being too early this year. What I haven’t mentioned is that the last Christmas post has a sister. This one. We’re a double feature. A conjoined twin. A tandem bike. A Twix.
Anyway, this part of the Christmas double feature concerns your impending work Office Christmas Party. I’m not going to mine this year. Prior engagement, you see. But I fear for those of you who have to endure, so I’ve dug out my Five Christmas Party Rules, in the words of Kylie and Jason, especially for you. Read them, memorise them, and for Gawd’s sake put them into action.
1. Beware of the free bar.
This is a poison chalice of the highest order.
I once saw my old company handyman passed out drunk on a couch in the reception area. As the night went on, people essentially vandalised the poor guy. By the time he came round he had a cock drawn on his cheek leading to his mouth, his shirt was off and he was sporting marker pen boobs. In addition, someone had managed to pull a silver sequined G-string over his trousers. Photos were, of course, taken.
Keep that picture in your mind as you consider your response to “Flaming Sambucas all round, anyone?!!!”
2. Do not get stuck next to management in the seating arrangements
Sometimes this is hard. My managing director for six years running would make sure that in the table layout my name tag was next to his. One year I snuck in and swapped it, but he insisted it was swapped back. He was a perv, though and maybe not all bosses are like that.
Perv or no, and assuming you have a choice, there is one good reason you should avoid them; they are not your friends. No amount of alcohol is enough to switch off the power balance switch that exists between the two of you. Don’t delude yourself it’s even worth trying. Also, they only want to talk about work. And you want to be over with your mates talking utter crap (and working out what to do to the passed-out janny this year), don’t you?
3. Do not go onto a club afterwards.
Given that most Christmas parties start at lunchtime, you really need to be home and out of harm’s way by late evening. Anything more is guaranteed messiness. And even if you are not the one being messy, then you will witness sights you cannot erase from your brain.
Worst of all will be being forced to dance with middle aged guys with Santa ties on, who haven’t been near any club recently that doesn’t have the word “golf “in front of it.
4.Never, ever, ever, ever, ever, cop off with anyone you work with.
I cannot stress this enough.
Other than the obvious “don’t-get-your-meat-where-you-get-your-bread” reason, there are three particular extra reasons.
Firstly, EVERYONE will know about it instantly. I was once called over by a work mate to witness a happening of this sort through the board room window. Before table-top coitus was even interuptusused, the whole company knew.
To be honest the couple were bloody lucky that drink perhaps makes things a little quicker, shall we say, as one of the cameramen I worked with was running to get the camera from upstairs. Lucky for them, he was too late to catch the exclusive. Also this was before YouTube, so big luck all round, there. The woman’s husband however, did find out…… and so the luck endeth.
Secondly, even if the affection was genuine at the time, you’ve got at least a week of no-work between the “happening” and going back to work guaranteeing extreme awkwardness that first day back. And you can bet the whole work is beaking-in to watch that situation go down.
Thirdly, you don’t want to ruin your Christmas with horrid flashbacks and ruminations of whether you should hand in your notice along with the drunken janitor.
5. The Special Fifth Survival Rule
Of course, you could just not go to the party, making all of the above redundant, but this requires extreme cunning. You need to be organised for this rule to stick. Think on, and have an excuse ready in September. Oops, too late. Maybe next year.
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