There is always an initial nervousness at a first meeting. Even though I’ve been following Xl through his blog for some months now, this is our first time face to face, mano a mano. The decision to roll cameras at his parents’ house front door added to the tension. I would’ve preferred X to answer the door in the interest of getting a clean take and I thought about cutting when another chap (turned out to be his brother Brian) answered. I held my nerve and stayed with him. Myles (sound) and intern Ian (camera 2) did likewise. Fair play to them. Even though Brian is not our subject per say he did give a fascinating insight into X’s familial relations. He also offered to make us tea, however X declined on our behalf. We were due to meet the parents but alas they were out golfing and X was in a hurry to get moving.
En route to Dublin I was hoping to get some footage of X in Cork City. The silos on the docks for me would provide an urban yet agricultural backdrop to our subject’s thoughts of his city. X suggested Shandon which as it turns out is a cinematic playground, like the Warner Bros lot I imagine, but real. Here the absence of steady-cam came into play. They are very, very expensive.
Once on the road to Dublin the filmic opportunities afforded by the moving car impressed me. Travelling at a steady speed of 100km (120 odd on the motorway) was a great way for me to capture the essence of car travelling, or autobahnfahren. Also driving fast saved film. And time.
Food was something of a preoccupation for our subject/star(?) on this trip. The concept of golden food was new for me, essentially it’s what X calls the pastry goods in filling stations, the pinnacle of which is seemingly the potato-dog – a frankfurter in a hash brown sheath.
A stop along the way in Urlingford is something of a rite of passage for the Cork-Dublin traveller.
One of the downfalls of many a documentary is getting too close to the subject and thus eschewing objectivity. With that in mind I tried as much as possible to be uncommunicative to X and either ignore his questions about myself, or give false answers.
The snow-capped Galtee mountains lent a feeling of cold, white beauty to the car-driving sequence. I focused on the driving but gave constant direction to Ian who to be fair has a good handle on the handy cam by now. I’d say “look right, pan right!” and he’d get the truck whizzing past us; “hold it, hold it!” and he’d stay with the grass embankment blurring by; “stick your head out the window and get a wide” and he’d capture the bonnet and the road and the oncoming traffic for about ten minutes.
Later we’d use a three second gusher from it.
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