Whew! What a whirlwind THAT was. We arrived in Norfolk the day before the TV pilot shoot in a downpour carting an entire wardrobe of clothes, umbrellas, a laptop and half of Selfridge’s cupcake collection. Never did travel lightly.
The crew had already camped out in one of Gissing Hall’s public rooms. Cameras, lights, sound equipment and a zillion battery packs strewn across the space suddenly made it all seem very real and I almost lost my lunch in the midst of it.
I can’t say much about the process or the candidates, there being a surprise reveal element and all, but for two days we all worked like beavers in tree heaven. The sun and heat dealt their own surprise reveal and soon outdoor shots became more than a possibility. I can say that I’ve ruined a pair of Barneys NY heels in a walking shot across the moist carpet of grass into which I sank with each step forward. And when I tried to manoeuvre the pebbled driveway, well, not my finest moment.
By the end of the second day we were tipsy with weariness. The last shot should have been quick and easy, but Malcolm, whose coordination can sometimes be challenged when he’s overly tired, just had a bit of a problem. If you haven’t seen it already, here’s an outtake from the shoot.
The result of this experience, twenty-seven hours of tape, is stacked up in the editing room where I imagine some kind of magic will be performed. Until then, it’s happily back to writing, reading, reading, writing.