A Century of November ... by Photographer Richard Schmon

www.richardschmon.com
Over the course of the last seven months I have been shooting stills and time-lapse video for a feature film called A Century of November. This will be the film adaptation of the novel of the same name written by W. D. Wetherell and adapted for the screen by noted screenwriter Jay Wolpert. For producers Nicolas Awde and Patrick Stark, this has been a labor of love for almost five years.

On Saturday, February 12th, almost 100 cast and crew gathered in Mission, BC to shoot the promotional trailer for the film. With Co-producer Patrick Stark at the helm and cinematographer Joel Ransom behind the cameras, we forged through a blustery wet day in the mud.

Other key crew members include First Assistant Director Jack Hardy, Production Designer Peter Lando, Costume Designer Monique Prudhomme, Visual Effects Supervisor John Gajdecki, Key Grip Tony Whiteside, Stunt Coordinator JJ Makaro, and Props Master Jimmy Chow.

The promo was captured with a combination of Panavision Genesis cameras as well as Arriflex 435 film cameras and Kodak's 5219 Vision 3 film stock, all with Panavision's gorgeous glass. The camera crew also had the epic 50 foot Super Technocrane with the Mega 3 three axis remote head at their disposal.

The set at Project Serenity X was divided into two halves, the first being the elaborate trench set and the second being "No Man's Land", the lethal bombed out space separating enemy and friendly lines on the western front. These were constructed one piece at a time over the course of the last five months. As the local coniferous trees and foliage do not accurately match those found in France and Belgium, both blue and green screens were employed to enable the Visual Effects team to composite the war torn backgrounds of the era.

Below are some of my images and time lapse from the set. Over the course of 12 hours I captured over 600 raw files and my three time-lapse cameras shot more than 35,000 jpegs!

Watch in HD on Vimeo

Co-Producer & Promo Director Patrick Stark.

Co-Producer Nicolas Awde.


Cinematographer Joel Ransom & Patrick Stark watch the monitors at video village.

The 11:1 Primo Zoom. An optical marvel. 24-275mm at a fixed T2.8.

Jay Wolpert - Vancouver Arrival...

Our screenwriter and executive producer Jay Wolpert spent an action-packed two days in Vancouver (May 19 & 20) to meet with Nick and me to go over script points. The schedule was tight, but our team managed to pull it off without a hitch.

Jay was in for a busy two days: not long after being picked up from the airport he was whisked away in Pacific Empire’s customized 1969 Cadillac limo and delivered to his hotel. Before long, Jay, Nick and I were immersed in a 5 hour story meeting.

From there, Jay was transported to the Blink Media Works studios where he was interviewed (for a special presentation piece we are assembling for the project) by local EPK/Field Producer Marian Dodd (Entertainment Tonight), where he discussed the process of adapting A Century of November as well as regaling those of us ‘behind-the-scenes’ with stories of his life and career in Hollywood.

Research is key to staying true to the authenticity of the film and the ‘when’ and ‘where’ the story takes place – so at Jay’s request, we discovered an apple orchard to visit on Vancouver Island, very close to where our protagonist, Charles Marden made his home, and from where his journey half way around the world to find the exact spot his son fell, began.

It was a brutally early start to the next day in an effort to catch the 6:30AM ferry from Horseshoe Bay in West Vancouver to Nanaimo’s Departure Bay: once our journey across the strait began, however, we quickly lost track of the time. The voyage from Vancouver to the apple orchard became a tremendous opportunity for all of us to simply converse, break bread together and further solidify our plans for the film.

After a brief but informative stop by Nanaimo’s century-old courthouse, we drove 45 minutes south to the Merridale Estate Cidery, one of the largest of its kind in North America. It was fantastic to be able to stroll through the orchard consisting of numerous varieties of cider apple trees, all from Europe and to take in the same air our characters would have breathed, experiencing life as they may have experienced it.

After some cider sampling, we drove back to Nanaimo in time to catch a 12:30 ferry back to the mainland and straight to the airport to conclude Jay’s whirlwind tour: another step forward in our journey from novel to script to screen.

WWI Last Canadian Soldier...

Sometimes life is just too good to be true.

When I heard that Jack Babcock, 107 years old, had become the last surviving Canadian soldier from the First World War and that he lived mere hours away from Vancouver in the eastern Washington city of Spokane, I knew I had to meet him. An incredible opportunity to actually speak to someone who was there – a young soldier caught up in the excitement of defending his country, 90 years ago.

Numerous articles had been written about our country’s last soldier after the death of the only other surviving Canadian veteran, Dwight Wilson – and although there was a lot of information to go on, I wanted to hear it from the man himself.

Jack, although he tried, never made it to the front lines and in turn, managed to live another 9 decades. Destiny diverted him from battle and allowed him time to find the girl he would start a family with, have a career, serve in another country’s Army, and be a witness to history of the 20th century as it unfolded.

I simply found his home number, and called.

“Make sure you bring along your wife and baby.” Babcock’s second wife, Dot, sounded enthusiastic about the visit. We might be making a movie, fine, but you know I truly believe that Jack and his wife loved the idea of a social scenario, nothing formal: not a structured interview, simply conversation. They had recently been bombarded by multiple interviews from newspapers across Canada, so it was well understood.

I drove down to Spokane with my family on a Sunday afternoon and we arrived at the neatly kept bungalow after a lengthy journey (multiple pit stops), and we were warmly welcomed into their home.

Jack was positioned in the middle of the sofa, while Dot sat off to one side. He is definitely not slight – thick white hair & solid as a rock with hands that enveloped mine in a handshake.

Jack and Dot have cats, which were an immediate distraction for my 2 ½ year old son, and although watching Kieran chase the cats around the living room was definitely entertaining, Jack came back to my various questions. I wanted to be spontaneous and enjoy the moment, not worried about “getting the good stuff”.

Flynn Project - The Caldough Estate...

It is difficult to describe the feeling you get when you step into a home with a history – a checkered one at that, where the initial owner was a shady stock promoter and his guest, in the final stages of life, was none other than Errol Flynn.

I have always been fascinated by Flynn, and even more so by his sudden death in Vancouver nearly fifty years ago.

In the fall of 1959, West Vancouver businessman George Caldough hosted the Hollywood legend and the actor’s 17 year old girlfriend in his home, located at 1026 Eyremount Drive.

While in Vancouver, for what was only supposed to be a few days, Caldough paraded Flynn around to various hot spots to ‘be seen’ – and in between, Errol’s condition was worsening. The compounding effects of a slipped disc and rapidly failing organs (helped along by copious amounts of vodka and heroin) caused Flynn to suffer greatly, and often during the visit, he would need to lie in bed at the Caldough house – sweating profusely yet shivering at the same time.

On October 14, 1959, Flynn, en route to the airport, dropped dead of a heart attack in the penthouse apartment of a doctor who was trying to treat him and a couple of years later Caldough was convicted of stock fraud and sent to jail for 6 years.

The house on Eyremount was occupied by a number of families over the years since then, and until recently, was very much intact.

Like any good research, reading about something is not good enough, and seeing as though we are developing a film based on these last days, paying a visit to the house was definitely in order.

I have actually spent time at the house many times over the last few years, mostly peeking through the windows at the empty spaces and a couple of years ago, I actually shot some re-enactment scenes of Flynn’s last moments prior to leaving for the airport.

Last fall, October 14 to be exact, I found myself spending even more time there, as it was in the last stages of demolition. Needing to take even more detailed notes about the house before it was gone forever, I would stop by from time to time, wandering through the door-less entrance and stepping over the broken bits of drywall and glass.

Leading up to Halloween, I would stop by the house every single day, but each time I felt a little unsure of my surroundings: the feeling in my stomach was sending me a very different signal.

Doors swinging open and shut (I’m sure it was the wind) was enough to cause me to exit the scene rather quickly.

My trouble is, however, that curiosity would get the better of me and draw me back to the house – over and over again This time, I was not going it alone.

The first person I decided to bring along was a professional photographer – someone to help record the last images of the house. She did her best, snapped some great images, but couldn’t wait to get the hell out of there. She admitted to feeling sick and chilled to the bone.

Chilled to the bone. That was something I too had started to feel every visit. An unusual coldness inside the house, even when the weather was rather warm outside.

Then I asked others to come to the house with me. Maybe this was because I wanted to confirm my own belief that there was something unusual going on. I am not terribly spiritual, or rather, I wasn’t before these visits. There was definitely something unusual in the house on Eyremount Drive, and I wanted to get second, third and even fourth opinions.

Every single time, the reactions were consistent – the place was otherworldly. Everyone felt the gut wrenching feeling, the cold, the “bad air” as some described it.

I mentioned my research exploits to Nick, and if you know Nick, he never comes across as someone who is easily shaken.

At the end of our work day, (Halloween), Nick agreed to come up to the house to check it out. We wandered through the house, and Nick was observing the conditions of the house – the piles of broken gyprock, the skeletal remains of the framework, the appliances carelessly dumped over the balcony and into the swimming pool, now filled with murky water. Nick even noticed a double sink in good condition that he might like to take home with him.

I escorted Nick downstairs, exploring darkened rooms, cold and empty fireplaces, scattered documents – and then around the deck of the pool. And then - it started to get to him. The chill. The air. The damp and the dark. The gut instincts that tell you to get out while you can.

Pretty soon, that newish double sink wasn’t so attractive, and the need to exit the building intensified. And, before we knew it, we were heading for the vehicle. Enough was enough. And the experience was disturbing enough that Nick didn’t seem interested in discussing the house again.

Today, there is simply rubble that remains where this house sat for fifty years. The pain and suffering that film legend Errol Flynn endured during his last days on earth can only be left to the imagination. Who knows if others had suffered behind those walls since?
Who knows if others who had lived in that house over five decades had strange feelings about the house?

I had heard one story, from a realtor, that the wife of a very recent owner refused to allow her husband to build their new home on the site because she didn’t feel right about the existing house when she entered. She even forced him to sell it.

I imagine that this property with the million dollar view of the entire lower mainland will see an opulent mansion built upon it. I can only hope, for the new owner’s sake, that the cold and sickening feelings we all shared within those walls, crumbled away with each crushing blow off the backhoe that knocked the original structure down.

Assumptions...

You know what they say about “assume”, making an ass out of “u” and “me”…..nothing has held more truth than that!

Assumptions and Murphy’s Law go hand in hand, and I have learned to start listening to both.

It happens every day in life with the little things, and sometimes can affect decisions that can have tremendous impact on your life.

The story of signing Jay Wolpert to write the script for A Century of November falls in this category. I assumed that the book, once I sent it to the agent at Paradigm, would be tossed or would never find its way into Jay’s hands. Nothing against Jay’s agent, I simply believed that any material not represented by an agent, lawyer or manager would get to someone like Jay, regardless of its virtue.

Thanks to some friendly persuasion by Nick, I eventually wrote a little note, slipped it inside a copy of the book, and fired it down to Paradigm….the rest is history, as they say.

Even after that lesson, I continue to fall back into the same thought patterns.

In my research regarding Flynn’s last days, I have been looking for individuals to interview, who may have spent time with the ailing actor during the last week of his life here in Vancouver. The trouble is that it was fifty years ago, and many of the people involved in the story are either dead or extremely old.

While trying to acquire all of the details about Flynn, I managed to get to know something of the other people who were with him at this time.

There was George Caldough, who hosted Flynn and was poised to purchase the actor’s yacht. My research has turned up that Caldough died of a heart attack at age 50 back in 1978.

There is Beverly Aadland, who was Flynn’s 17 year old protégé. He died in her arms in the West end apartment of Dr. Grant Gould. She is still alive, but is very private and doesn’t necessarily want to be bothered again (she has recently been interviewed for an Australian documentary entitled “Tasmanian Devil: The Fast and Furious Life of Errol Flynn”, and is in talks with HBO regarding a film based on her romance with the actor).

Then there is Dr. Grant Gould. He tried to save Errol, but to no avail. It was his apartment that Flynn died in. What are the chances that he is still alive? My extensive research over many years turned up nothing. Until now.

I believed that he too was also gone. I dug some more. I have an article to write. It needs some credibility. I made some calls. I Googled again. I struck gold.

To my delight, Dr. Gould is alive and well and still practises medicine, despite being semi-retired. Not only that, he is the answer to many a question I’ve had about the true details regarding Flynn’s death.

My new mantra, from now on, needs to consider looking at all sides and exhaust all possibilities before jumping to conclusions. True success will come from turning over every single rock.

A Day to Always Remember...

Opened the newspaper this morning and the photo of the kid running to his father reminded me of growing up with my Grandfather. After reading the article I felt compelled to call my Grandfather and thank him. My Grandfather replied "thank me for what?" I said "thank you for giving me the opportunity to be able to live the life I have". He questioned further, "what do you mean?" I answered, "If it wasn't for people like you that sacrificed their lives so that others could live without all the bullets and grenades going off and the fear of war every minute of every hour of every day, for that I say thank you".

Tragic Last Days...

Hollywood history has always intrigued me, especially stories of its seamy underbelly, the corrupt, the criminal, the unsavoury aspects which have been the subject of many an article, feature film or television program.

What fascinates me even more are stories where Hollywood has meshed with Vancouver culture. The most intriguing story for me is that of Errol Flynn and how he, on a trip to our city to sell his beloved yacht to a local businessman, ended up dying in the arms of his teenaged sweetheart in a West End apartment.

This is the 48th anniversary of Flynn’s visit and subsequent death in Vancouver.

Really, it’s the biggest piece of tabloid news ever to hit our city, even now in its role as Hollywood North.

In conducting some pretty thorough research, out of personal interest, I am shocked at how few people even know who Errol Flynn was.

It’s a shame how soon people forget, or that stories are not passed along to future generations. There is such a fascinating and colourful history to be told. Maybe this blog could be an instrument to rehash some of these tales lost over generations.