“the best things have the worst consequences.”
June 29, 2020
“That is such good news! I’m so excited!!! Can’t wait to get started on it.”
“Fen is all mine and I’m all Fen’s! Let’s do it! … Exciting time to be alive!
“That’s great news. I’d love to play the role of Nia.”
“Awesome!”
Those were the first four reactions to being cast in the pilot. Each actor would last as long as their reply. And so it was settled - “V,” “Y,” Janice and Sanjana were in. The other half of the original, main cast - Da Boyz - remained in flux. There was myself and there was Adrian, but the last two roles were proving more difficult to cast. A big reason for that was cultural. The two roles that remained open had smaller “ethnic appearance” population pools. For example, casting someone with an Indian background - that starts at a billion - was easier, or at least, there was more choice. Casting someone with, say, a Pacific Islander background was a harder task.
July 2020
All along, while casting and writing, I had been working on a deal with a production company in Rio de Janeiro (the original, pilot setting). Earlier in the year, I had posted a call for a cinematographer for a shoot in Rio and of the replies was the owner of a boutique production outfit. Ever since my call with “A” in February about potential investment, my ambitions had grown and I could no longer afford what I was building, and so, I needed someone to take a chance on the potential of the idea - which is a nice way of saying: delay or forego payment.
“P,” in Rio, did just that. He had the same ideas as me - that the internet was the Wild West and that if someone could make something that broke through, a person or a company could own and distribute their product online, without having to give much of the rights (and decision-making) to a network or some other medium. “P” believed in the idea and offered to provide his company’s production services in exchange for equity in the series. We agreed on a percentage - a decent one - and just like that, all the production needs - the visuals, the sound, the post - were taken care of.
Meanwhile, as I was planning a complex, international film shoot which would see people fly in from all over the world, the world remained more or less closed. With no barber shop, my hair was the longest it’d been since high school. With no gym, I was exercising on an outdoor pull-up bar at a nearby high school track. One of my favorite sporting events, the Champions League, returned in July. It was nice to have sports again, but it was damning to see the biggest, yearly competition, featuring the most popular athletes and clubs in the world, played out in empty stadiums.
July 28, 2020
“I don’t think I can do this. … Good luck on the project.”
That morning I woke up to an ice cold email from “V.” I read it and my heart sank. Please, anybody but “V.” She had sent it at five in the morning. Was she sleepless? Had a late night? The last time we spoke was two days prior. She told me she couldn’t make our scheduled call time because her shoot was going over.
“Okay. Do you think you can go later this evening?”
— “No, I can’t.”
I did not reply. Maybe she thought I was giving the cold shoulder. I wasn’t. Of course not. There was no rush; I just assumed I’d reach out later or vice verse. … Later that day I went to a coffee shop to write “V” back. It felt too sad at home. I wrote her a damn near essay on the project and my side and her side and how much I believed in her and how we could manage time better moving forward. She wrote back that evening and agreed we should work it out. “It’s cool,” she said. “Thank you for being so understanding. And for talking me off the ledge, lol.”
Looking back, I’m glad “V” quit that day. Things had been going relatively well up to that time in the development. People were showing interest on the creative and business side and I was perhaps feeling comfortable. The email from “V” shook me up and I began to look around and review the things that I had done up to that point. And to review myself. I shouldn’t have cared so much that “V” quit. I shouldn’t have gotten attached. I put a line down. Moving forward, I would care about the people involved, but also, I wouldn’t.
August 11, 2020
I had a call with “P” about the production. I acted the same but everything was different now. After the moment with “V” and after reconsidering all things, I was becoming cold on my partnership with “P’s” company. On the call, we talked more ideas on the look and crew size and about the myriad of locations Rio had to offer.
We had not signed anything - “P” and I. We had decided to see how the shutdowns and COVID protocols would go through the summer and then really get things rolling (we hoped) in the fall. Two days later, though, I emailed “P” and told him I no longer wanted to pursue the arrangement. I told him how appreciative I was of all he had done and taught me and for his belief in the potential of the project. But that was just it - I also believed in it. I was goddamn delusional about it. And so, in the end, I could not give a chunk of its ownership away for gear (that P already owned) and for the cost of labor for a small crew. After some tense then respectful back and forth:
“I understand, Evan. I wish to you the best.”
— “Thank you, P.”
How should I determine worth? No, really, I’m asking. There are no quantifiable metrics for So Far Bound. I mean, a lot of people applied. There’s that. It is somewhat an objectively cool idea. There’s no footage, though, only papers and ideas. Was the deal with “P” a good one? At the least, it would have more so ensured that the pilot could be made. Because if it’s not made, well, it doesn’t have the chance to be worth anything.
The thing is, I valued So Far Bound as the dream. I valued it at the end of the journey, as all it could be - at, knowingly, its most unlikely outcome. In that sense, the deal with “P” would have been catastrophic. In the way I’ve chosen, though, it may never start.
August 16, 2020
After “V’s” dropout, I thought it would be a good idea to bolster the alternates for her role, or maybe - though I dare I not say it - replace her. I set an interview with Sofia. She was the first person I ever contacted who didn’t have some sort of video - a reel or self tape - in her application profile. I don’t know; I guess, as they say, she had a “look.” The computer rang; Sofia answered, nervously whipping the laptop around like it was in a tornado. (If only all these people knew, that in almost every instance, I was the least experienced person on the call). “Do you wanna take 5 and find a place to set it?” She did.
She looked much different than her picture. In her profile she was blonde with shorter hair; here the hair was dark brunette and longer. She sounded nothing like I imagined. Because of a faulty time stamp on the casting site, and because she had listed fluent Spanish as a skill, I thought she was maybe in Spain but she was very much a Cali girl. … Our conversation was easy and engaging. What I noticed most was her facial expressions. She would freely contort her mouth here and her eyes there to emphasize moments in conversation. It was silly. We could have easily gone on, but she had to stop for work. — Ah, work. So many us are always stopping or deferring or reaching for what we want or love on this random, spinning rock because we have to work.
August 20, 2020
In hindsight, what a week this was. After Sofia, I met Miriam, the DP for the project. She had replied to a new posting for crew I had sent out after the dissolution with the production company. She answered and showed a reserved smile. She had on a cream-colored sweater with a scarf wrapped around her neck which I thought was odd because she was indoors. I remember I asked her a question and she was giving a lengthy answer and then mid-sentence looked up and remarked on how it seems “we always blackout and go on and on when answering simple questions.” We talked about movies and television and our backgrounds and there were four or five other DPs I was talking to at the moment but by the end of the call I only cared about Miriam. We did a couple more “rounds” before I officially asked her if she would join but it was already done.
September 05, 2020
Back in 2020, I did a read-through of parts of the script with “V” and Adrian. It was the first time, outside of the ladies’ group call, that other team members met each other. … Wow, looking back today, everything was so different then - the script, the team, the ambitions, myself. … Later that month, on the 18th, Ruth Bader Ginsberg died and her seat on the court was filled by Amy Coney Barrett. — The times can change so drastically in a short time. At least the things that change over time, though, are up to us.
October 05, 2020
Sofia and I are on a call about the script. We’re going through one of the story lines and reviewing how it holds together plot wise and thematically. I could not offer Sofia the role she applied to but in conversation I really liked the way she thought about things and her overall fun, affable demeanor. Initially I asked her if she’d still like to be involved in a producer capacity, but ultimately we landed on just helping out with the script. We did three or four calls on the script and made plans for a couple other project-related tasks, but in the end plans fizzled and I don’t believe, at that time, either of us thought we’d ever speak again.
October 2020
The election between Joe Biden and Donald Trump was fast approaching and up top and deep down it was all anyone really thought about. While you ate breakfast; while you went to the gym; while you took a shit; while you watched a movie; while you brushed your teeth; it was in the wind and it was in the rain. … I was still living with my family and we differed greatly on how we viewed each candidate, and thus, how we viewed humanity and society and the planet. I was very outnumbered and, often, I felt that.
— A mural seen on a scouting trip in Merida, Mexico.
October 11, 2020
After backing out of the deal with “P” and, by early Fall, understanding that the pandemic was not a blip on the timeline but rather a new layer to society on which we’d operate, I gave up on Rio de Janeiro as the location for the pilot. It was too far, too congested and too dangerous. I started researching places in the Caribbean and Mexico and places in the US, like Miami and New Orleans. In my research I learned about a small city in Mexico named Merida. “Best small city in the world!” claimed two different publications of merit. In pictures, the streets were lined with colorful buildings and Mayan influences and warm-climate vegetation.
On October 11, I flew from RDU to MIA to MER. En route to the Airbnb, the place felt like a ghost town. Unlike the US, where things were opening up again, Merida was still mostly closed - restaurants, shops, museums all closed. Everyone wore a mask, even if you were walking alone down the street and the stores that were open, like a grocery, would make you clean your shoes and sanitize your hands at the entrance and some even checked your temperature.
At dusk, I arrived at the Airbnb and got to my room but could not figure out how to turn on the electricity and the wi-fi. Now, I don’t understand the complexities of phone companies, but though I thought I had international data, I could not text the host or anyone for help. I could, however, make a call. I called the host; a few minutes later she called me back and she explained to me where to insert the key card to turn on the electricity. In the dark, I fumbled around like a happy drunk in the street until finally the lights came on. Next, I asked the host for the wi-fi password. Her accent was very thick and she did not want to say the password, or rather, she didn’t think I’d understand her. She tried texting it to me; tried Whatsapp; tried the Airbnb app. I called her again. “I don’t have any data. Can you just spell it out?”
“Uhh, the password iss ticki ticki.”
— “Tick-ee? Tick-ee?”
“Yes. (She started spelling it) Teh-I-Keh …”
— “Oh, Tiki Tiki. I see.”
The password was “Tiki Tiki.” I know right now that all seems very pointless. But, in two years the words “Tiki Tiki” would play a large role in the final story and the pilot production as a whole.
***
I left Merida and took the bus to Cancun and stayed there for a couple days. I was really feeling very down. Merida was not the place, and so, I had no place. I also didn’t have the funds and, increasingly, the enthusiasm. From my hotel in Cancun I emailed the people that were involved and I explained to them how the project would be postponed indefinitely and I admitted how I had tried for something that was unattainable. I had asked out the prettiest girl at school and ultimately got rejected. Such is life, we all have our places. I would still work on the pilot, in some ways, but the time frame - of filming at the end of 2020 - that I had kept repeating since the beginning was no more. I felt badly sending it. A couple hours later, “V” was the first to respond. She sent a nice message; she was understanding, which, of all the people, I always knew she had the greatest capacity for.
Hey Evan,
Thank you for the update. I’m sure everything will fall into place at the right time. I can imagine how much you’ve fought for this project, the endless meetings and conversations. But you shouldn’t get discouraged. Look how far you’ve come! We believe in you and this project will be a success. We’re not going anywhere, take as much time as you want.
Talk soon,
xx
October 28, 2020
In the evening, Rian answered. He was sitting in his back porch in Columbus, OH. In the background, it was sunny and green and quiet and all felt very suburban - except for Rian - who was Indonesian and had a city/chic persona. Rian was not an actor and never had been, though he was interested in pursuing it. And as he would tell me, in many other ways in his life he had been a “creative.” We spoke for an hour or so and even though it was nice, at the time, I did not think Rian would be the final piece of the original, main cast.
November 04, 2020
There they were, right there. Much like the group call I had with the ladies in June; now I was speaking with the three men (plus myself) who I was hoping would make up the other half of “The Eight.” There was me (in Raleigh), Adrian (in Toronto), “H” (in Detroit) and “E” (in New York City). I had first met Adrian way back in May. We hit it off pretty quickly and though he was quite young, I thought he was sensible and empathetic and could grow into a role quite well. I had already asked him to be a part of the cast, and so, on the call he would help me evaluate the other guys as well.
I also met “H” in May, but it took longer for me to see him in the project. We didn’t speak all summer and then I reached out to him again in the Fall. I’m not sure why - maybe my initial ideas of the character had changed, or maybe, I had seen a new photo or clip of him in which it appeared he changed. Who really knows? When all is said and done in life, we were all just trying to catch each other on the right day. I had met “E” later in the summer. He was friendly and awkward and longing and I could imagine new and great directions for the character with him.
The four of us talked for a while about all kinds of things. Yeah, sure, sports were a prevalent topic. In the course of conversation, though, “E” said two different things that drew my attention. The things he said were harmless, but still I flagged them. He told a story about how quickly and simply he had quit a particular job and thrown away a career. In the other instance, he spoke about a beloved but controversial musical artist and how he did not give a fuck what anybody thought - he still loved him. … Hm. A little goes a long way, you know? Little things adds up. In that call, I guess they compounded into something big enough for me to see. After the call, I thought about other conversations with “E” and understood that though he would be great in the role, he may not have been ready for the effort and the collaboration. — I set up another interview with Rian.
November 15, 2020
I lied to you earlier. Hell, maybe I’ve been telling lies all along. Memories are just altered, diluted versions of the truth anyway. Sofia and Miriam were not the first people I’d meet in person. I mean, of the team today (in 2022) they were, but the actual first time I met someone in person was in Miami. There, I met “V.” I had never been to Miami properly - only to board a ship or connect a flight. I had a friend from my days in New York living there now and I reached out and made plans to visit. I told “V” I was coming to town and that we should meet up also.
I was in Miami for three days and met “V” on the third one. For the two days prior, I turned back the clock to my college days. As had been advertised, Miami cared nothing for the pandemic protocols and all was a-go at the bars and clubs. In two days, I drank just about more alcohol than I had in two years. By the third day, I was beat up. … It was the middle of the week so “V” was working which limited our hours to find a moment to meet. She took a long lunch and we met at a cafe near her apartment.
It wasn’t like it was with Sofia and Miriam with “V.” She was very preoccupied, constantly checking her phone. She was a producer and had to give a pitch later that day. As for myself, I was barely cognizant after two days of debauchery. “V” finished a lemonade and we left. She gave me a ride to where her upcoming meeting was in the Wynnwood neighborhood. For me, it was halfway to the airport from the beach. I was flying out in two hours. We had a little better conversation in the car until we arrived. I stood on the curb with the car door open and thanked “V” and she waved goodbye and drove down the street and I watched on the busy corner outside of another cafe.
Our meeting was bittersweet. On one hand, it was so great to see “V” in person - to see anyone involved in person. On the other hand, it was not how I envisioned meeting someone, or her. We were both very different than we had been on Zoom or FaceTime or email and I wondered how many more people - after all this time and after all I thought I knew - would be different.
December 2020
Since January, there wasn’t a single morning I woke in which the pilot was not the first thing on my mind. Nightly, I had trouble falling asleep as I played out scenarios in my head. And to be honest, I didn’t enjoy it anymore. The forest (the acting, the art) was gone and all I could see was the individual trees (the set, the crew, the budget, the schedule). … When all this first started, passion was my motivation. I was so into it. But, by this time, I had to replace passion with discipline. I had to be robotic and set time to write, research and design to get to the other side.
— That switch was no great revelation. There are a hundred best-selling books or most-shared articles about how it’s literally all about discipline and pattern and control. Certain freedom comes from chains. That’s something I’ve always struggled with in my life and now, in my early 30s, that lack of focus and control had left with me with no roots and little resources. … I don’t know that I ever really cared about any job until this endeavor. And so, when times were down, when the passion was gone, because I finally loved something, I finally had the capacity to switch from passion and emotion to discipline and fundamentals. I’m not saying that’s some triumph, either. Rather, it was more like a juvie being scared straight. If I didn’t change, how could my life?
December 25, 2020
The truth is, the best things have the worst consequences. Like, we have so much ability in our phones and yet its uses can be so demoralizing. Sex is the best(!), but you might get someone pregnant. The gun is so ingenious, but, well, you’re aware of political and civil history. … Christmas can be a “best thing.” There’s decoration and giving and bonding and for some, time off work. If you’re religious, there’s celebration in it. It holds color and warmth and cheer and, oh boy, can it be sad - when there is not much decoration, nor giving, nor people to bond with.
Though I grew up in North Carolina, I had not been back there for a few Christmases. I had been gone so often and so long since graduating college that I had very little community left there. … I was never very close with my family.
— Yeah, mhm, so, when people in interviews ask why I want to make So Far Bound, I say, first, it’s for a real interest in storytelling about geography and cultures; second, that it’s about taking a career in film into my own hands; but I never say number three. I think the project and the story is structured as is because I wanted a community that I never had. A community more creative and diverse and one in which I was not the “loner” or the “stranger” that I had so often been. I wanted adventure, but also, finally, people to really share it with. And now the end of the year had come but my new beginning - my end of the year production - had not.
December 26, 2020
I emailed “V” with a haphazard plan to make part of the pilot by late January or early February. Her character and mine had a story line together. Some of our scenes could almost be like a short film. I could just get a hotel room or house rental in Mexico for a couple nights, hire a couple crew members and we could film. … I don’t know; the holidays had just so heightened my awareness of where I was in life that I was ready to just make anything.
December 31, 2020
I had not heard from “V” yet about my “plan.” I was so wrapped in my own agenda that I did not consider she could be taking it easy or altogether off over the holidays. I emailed her again with urgency and asked if she was still interested. The next day she texted me and said she didn’t think she’d be able to do it - not just the scenes but the pilot - and wished me luck. I called her right there at my desk but she didn’t answer and we never spoke again. *
— Development can be tedious, so along the way I’ve depended on a few songs for dance breaks and mood boosts. Each post we’ll go out on a new one. Today’s feature: “My Boo” by Ghost Town DJs.