The Naley Bench
Not everyone shares my excitement! Wilmington feels divided between the enchanted and the inconvenienced. At Circular Journey Cafe, baristas rave about Molly Shannon ordering a triple shot latte—"She was so nice, she even remembered my name!"
Meanwhile, business owners are grumbling about closed streets and blocked parking. The city is experiencing a collective emotional rollercoaster that makes my internal dialogue with Princess Amy seem positively stable by comparison.
On the first day of filming, I positioned myself on Second Street, where crews prepared for an early morning shoot. I approached a harried-looking production assistant, flashing my virtual press badge (a potent combination of determination and high-octane espresso). With her arms full of walkie-talkies, she barely slowed down.
"Press package already went out," she said, clearly mistaking me for someone with actual credentials. I took the hint. Besides, it was beginning to rain, and my coffee was being watered down—a greater tragedy than being turned away from the movie set. Princess Amy enjoyed the encounter. Whenever I get shot down in any setting for any reason, it brightens her day.
Small Victories
The first day of shooting was unproductive, but I didn't give up. At the start of the second day, I was outside Flaming Amy's on Oleander. You can read about that fiasco by searching for "Flaming Amy" on this blog. Spoiler alert: my internal GPS skills failed me spectacularly, reminding me of my childhood attempts at divining the future with Magic 8-Balls.
Persistence can sometimes yield great rewards, according to Ms. Wonder, and so on the third scheduled day of filming, I made my way from Circular Journey Cafe on Castle Street to film set on Orange. Fifteen minutes and one suspicious glance from security later, I was greeted by Tom, the Production Manager for Outer Banks Media. Persistence had paid off, and I felt I'd struck gold.
"Tell him about all the other movie sets we've visited," Amy said. "You want him to know that you're not just another curious noob." I ignored her.
Tom and I talked about our mutual love of film production, and I showed him my blog. He scanned it politely and nodded with the practiced neutrality of someone who sees far too many blogs written by aspiring pop-culture journalists.
"We're using this place as a fraternity house set on the UNC campus in Chapel Hill. We're filming a fraternity party."
We continued our conversation, swapping stories about filming events around the area. Tom even shared gossip about upcoming shoots. Princess Amy tried to re-interpret everything Tom said to mean we had unlimited access to the set.
And then he did extend an invitation. I was surprise to the point of shock. He gave me permission to visit the sets and get all the photos and videos I wanted for my blog.
"As long as you don't get in the way and don't take photos when the actors are on set."
Amy squealed so loudly, that I thought Tom might have heard her.
"Any of the production assistants will brief you on upcoming scenes, and you'll have to follow the same rules of conduct that everyone else on set follows."
"This is my dream," I told him. "I can hardly believe you're inviting me to observe what's usually treated as a secret, off-limits operation with signs that say 'Restricted Area' and 'Authorized Personnel Only'."
He laughed. "We think it's easier to not make a big production of it." A film production manager making an unintentional pun—I'd reached the pinnacle of insider status!
"Oh, one correction," he said, pointing to my blog post, "the crew that works overnight to get the set ready for an early morning shoot is called the Swing Gang."
Then he excused himself to talk with a boom operator waiting for instructions. I nodded knowingly as if I hadn't just mentally pictured a group of night-shift workers doing synchronized dance routines with lighting equipment.
"Conga!" shouted Amy.
Rumors and Anecdotes
I spoke to a crew member hanging around the food truck, who described the vibe on set as "surprisingly chill for a comedy!" He gave Director Bobby Farrelly all the credit. "The director allows actors to go off script, improvising their lines, before honing in on the funniest moments."
"We're burning through stacks of memory cards because nobody wants to cut when they're on a roll!" he said. The bit about memory cards got past me—possibly a technical film term that my brain filed under "Pretend You Understand and Google Later." Maybe it means something to you?
"Let's check out the food truck," Amy said. She seemed to be particularly interested in a table of snacks in front of the truck.
Rumors are plentiful in the peanut gallery. The most persistent is one concerning a climactic scene set for Nathan and Haley's Bench, a beloved spot from 'One Tree Hill'! It's said to be a last-minute idea. Specialized camera gear was unloaded there, leading to speculation about a sunset or night scene.
My mathematical probability calculations suggest an 87.3% chance this information is accurate, give or take whatever percentage makes me sound most authoritative.
Hits and Misses
I didn't get any footage from the Orange Street location, but I saw enough, even from a distance, to give readers a glimpse into the creative process! Sometimes witnessing movie magic is like trying to photograph a unicorn—the evidence is elusive, but the experience is enchanting.
"This is going to be great!" said Amy, who had remained quiet long enough for me to wonder if she'd found another brain to torment.
"I'm happy to hear you say that, Princess. It's going to be fun."
"Yeah, we can hang around all day and eat all we want from the service wagon," she said, her priorities suddenly crystal clear.
"What are you talking about? We can't eat the crew's food."
"Tom said we'd be treated like crew members," she countered.
"Not exactly. Just because we're allowed on set doesn't mean we can eat free. You pay attention to what people say with the selective hearing of a teenager being told to clean her room"
"Why do you always spoil everything? We can eat all we want, and if anyone says anything, we'll say we didn't know we weren't allowed." Her logic, as usual, was a blend of opportunism and plausible deniability.
"It's that big dish of M&M's, isn't it?" I said. "You've got your eye on all those little candies."
"And the Coca-Cola," she said, not even trying to hide her scheming. "It would be so nice to hang here and scarf the goodies."
That's Princess Amy for you. She seems like a tyrant most of the time, but when it comes to 1980s foodstuffs, she becomes a little girl. I'm not saying I understand the psychology behind an imaginary royal's nostalgia for Reagan-era snacks, but then again, I don't understand most of what happens in my head on the best of days.
