The Venice Chase

Yours truly, on location in Venice Beach, CA in 1984.

When I studied Film at Cal State, Northridge in the 1980's, every film production major had to take a class entitled Film Editing 101.  And if you took Film Editing 101, your primary project outside of class was to make a five minute, 16 mm film that involved a chase scene.

A chase scene is perfect for learning about film editing.  You can start off slow, build tension and cut more quickly during the chase, reach a resolution or denouement, and then cut slower again.

It's also a good type of scene to practice for marking time and place.  For example, if I set up a scene where two people start to chase each other in the same shot - and they both run out of frame - from then on I don't ever have to show them together in the same scene to give you the impression one character is chasing the other.  All I have to do as a filmmaker is show one character running from one side of the frame to another, past some type of visual landmark, and then I can cut to another angle of the same location, with that same earlier landmark still visible, and show the second character running in the same direction, past the same landmark.

You, the viewer, will assimilate that information and just assume the one character is chasing the other, as long as I keep them moving across the frame in the same direction, and passing visual landmarks you can identify.

It's basic stuff, but I did say it was only Film Editing 101.

Some schools, such as U.C.L.A., required their students to make their film projects individually: one person was responsible for one film.  At Northridge, we normally did our projects in groups of four.  As the writer and primary editor in my group, the first thing I had to do was concoct some exciting chase scenario that we could shoot cheaply in one or two weekends, somewhere visually interesting in Los Angeles.

If anyone ever asks if you want the Chapman dolly, the answer is always "YES!"

Probably influenced by Miami Vice and Touch of Evil, I developed a little story of a young man caught up in a drug deal gone bad - the cops step in just as he's about to make his drop - that would take place along the Strand in Venice Beach.  Orson Welles shot the famous continuous opening crane shot from Touch of Evil in Venice, and at that time I wanted to be Orson Welles, so it all made some sense.  Our film would be titled The Venice Chase.

Everyone in editing class had a schedule we had to adhere to in order to get our production finished by the end of the semester.  You only had the first week or two to work on your story because you needed to start filming in weeks 3-5.  The rest of the time would easily be swallowed up with editing, sound and music.  In other words, what everyone in Hollywood calls POST-PRODUCTION.  Post-Production is everything you do on a movie after principal photography has completed.

There are two notable things about shooting on location in Los Angeles.  The first is that everyone in L.A. is sick of having film crews shooting in their neighborhood, unless there is a little money exchanging hands.  That's part of the reason more and more film production in and around Los Angeles has moved out to the edges of the Thirty-Mile-Zone (T.M.Z.), the thirty mile circular area emanating from the intersection of West Beverly and North La Cienega Boulevards - the area around Los Angeles where a production can shoot with a local cast and crew and still be considered shooting in the city, not on location.  Shoot outside the T.M.Z. and you're now on location, and everyone requires transportation, per diem and lodging, etc. - it's just much more expensive.

The residents of Saugus and Valencia aren't yet as blasé about film crews as Hollywood, Santa Monica and Venice, so a lot more location filming has moved up there in recent years.

The second notable thing is that student films are treated with almost the same legitimacy as big budget studio productions.  If I went to the film permit office in downtown L.A. - and that's about the only reason I ever had to go to downtown L.A. - and paid my $10-20 student discounted rate for a city film permit, I had as much permission to shoot on public city property as anyone else.  So we bought ourselves a permit to shoot in Venice.  Good thing we did.

There were several film equipment rental facilities in Los Angeles.  Some of them liked to deal with film students and some of them didn't.  The ones that didn't probably thought we were flaky - hey, we were students - and the rates they could charge to students were far below market rates to a professional production.  On the other hand, student films normally shot on the weekends, when the big boys were sitting by their pools or dining at Spago's, so at least it was some revenue coming in during what would otherwise be a "dark" day.

Clairmont Camera in Hollywood had an impeccable reputation for being fair and accommodating with student filmmakers.  They would let us check out our rental equipment - camera, lights, dolly, dolly track, light meter, slate, etc. - after five o'clock on Friday night and, as long as we returned it before eight a.m. on Monday, they only charged us one day's rental.  It was still $500 - $1,000 for the day, but it helped us immensely to have that extra day for free.  We reserved our equipment for two weekends of shooting.

I always drove by a Budget Car Rental lot in Marina del Rey that rented "picture cars" - cars used on camera in a film.  They had an interesting selections of taxis, exotic cars and what caught my eye - a late model L.A.P.D. police car.  $50 a day with unlimited mileage.

The rental cop cruiser had a cloth cover that you put over the flashing lights on top while you were driving to and from your location.  They also gave you a couple of large, magnetic police "seals" that you put on each door when you were filming.  If you can't come up with a great story, you might as well have great production values.  We booked a squad car.

We cast a couple of our friends, one an aspiring actor, and my Dad as leads in the film.

We had our story, our actors, our assigned positions on the crew, our police car and uniform, our camera equipment and our film permit from the Film Office of the City of Los Angeles.  As they say in Hollywood, we were a "Greenlight" picture.

Filming on location always requires large hand gestures.

On a clear Saturday morning in September, we all met in Venice Beach.  The crew "call" - the time we had to show up on the "set" - was 6 a.m.  It's the only time of day in Venice you can get a decent parking space.  More importantly, we had a hundred feet of dolly track - it looked like a small railroad - that we needed to set up along the Strand.  We wanted to shoot as much as we could in the morning before things got too busy.

When you're filming on location, especially early in the day, things seem to move incredibly slowly.  Even if you're in charge, you often have no idea why you're waiting around and not shooting.  The dolly track was incredibly time-consuming to set up.  Once the track was properly laid out, and our Chapman dolly was hoisted atop the track, it worked like a charm.  Orson Welles once said that a film location was like a big train set.  This was literally a big train set.

We shot several scenes with actors running along the Strand, followed by the camera and dolly on the track.  We used that track as much as we could.  Then we moved on to a couple of other scenes that took place at a little cafe along the Strand.  With those shots finished, we were now ready to shoot a scene where we needed some of the Saturday afternoon crowds for which Venice was so famous.

The scene called for our hero, carrying a briefcase filled with cash and being chased by the policeman, to be chased into a cul-de-sac next to the beach.  Trapped by the crowds on one side and the police car on the other, he was supposed to open his briefcase, fling the cash up into the air, causing so much chaos in the crowd that he was able to run away scot-free.  We shot it a couple of times - we had invited a few friends to come along as extras to be our crowd chasing the money - and the scene was going well.

Then the L.A.P.D. pulled up.  The REAL L.A.P.D., not our Budget Rental Car version.  At that moment, I was glad I was the Writer and Editor and not the Producer.  And this was also when our Producer was happy we had filed for a film permit.  The cops immediately asked to see our permit and she showed it to them.  They still weren't happy.  They said we were attracting a crowd.  It was Venice Beach on a warm, sunny Saturday afternoon. The crowd would be there even if we weren't.  We just gave them something to watch.  The cops, wilting under the charm of our Producer, finally told us to finish up and move off the street as quickly as possible, and then drove away.

Then Life stepped in and imitated Art.

Getting ready for our third, and what we hoped final, take, we forgot about a prop briefcase, filled with fake dollar bills, that was sitting on the hood of the police car, while several of us in the crew discussed the scene.  In a moment of carelessness, we left the briefcase unguarded on the car and a lurking Venetian, a small, thin man in his mid-30's, presumably thinking the briefcase was filled with real cash, I guess, grabbed the briefcase and started to run.

Someone in the crew noticed him, yelled out, and then we all yelled after him as he ran north, away from the busy Strand, and into the narrow streets and alleys of the surrounding neighborhood.  My first reaction to this moment was not, in retrospect, the safest action to take.

Take note of the light meter, hanging near my waist.

I ran after him.  It didn't occur to me until later that he could have been carrying a knife or gun, and tried to stab or shoot me.  Although by stealing a worthless briefcase filled with fake money, he obviously was not the most sophisticated criminal in Venice Beach.

You also should know that around this time I was running road races for fun and to stay in shape.  I was running a lot.  60-70 miles a week.  I was running enough to know that if he didn't get away in the first 200 yards, that I would catch up with him.   I was right.

Through all the yelling and commotion, all I could think, and this gives you true insight into the mind of a film student, was not that he had stolen my Father's worthless briefcase, but that he had stolen a PROP for our FILM and we needed it to FINISH THE SHOT!  Had we been finished with the briefcase for the shoot, I wouldn't have cared.  We still needed that briefcase for continuity in scenes we were planning to shoot later that day.

So I ran after him.  I ran fast and strong.  If you want to shave a few seconds off your best 5K time, try chasing after a thief who has just stolen something you want back.  Pure adrenalin.  Within seconds, I was away from all the activity along the beach and in a quiet, residential neighborhood of Venice.  I saw our thief, briefcase in hand, running straight ahead and then making a left turn.  I ran up to where he had turned left, and followed behind, gaining on him.  His initial 200 yard sprint was over.  He didn't have nearly the adrenalin, nor distance running training regiment that I had, and was starting to tire.  I felt like a cheetah chasing down a wounded gazelle.  I closed in.

He continued down the street, looking for a way out, and ducked to his right, into an alley.  He jumped a cyclone fence into the backyard of a house.  I jumped right over the fence without breaking stride and faced him in the small backyard, his back up against a six foot wooden fence.

"Give me the briefcase!" I yelled as loud as I could.  He looked side to side and froze.  I realized he was in shock that I had caught up with him.  For the first time since he'd taken the briefcase, I also realized that I still had a light meter - a small, very heavy piece of glass and metal used to calculate the proper camera settings - hanging around my neck.  It was attached to a small, black rope and was now like a sling as I held it in my hand.

Unleashing my inner Indiana Jones - "Throw me the idol!" - I held the rope and threw the light meter at his chest, and yelled at him once again to drop the briefcase.  I believe there were more vulgarities involved the second time.  At this point, I wasn't exactly sure if he spoke English or not, but that was answered when he said "What the f@#k?" as the heavy, metal light meter just grazed his chest.

He immediately dropped the briefcase, turned, and jumped over the fence.  I didn't even look over the fence to watch him run away.  I had my prey.  I just grabbed the briefcase, locked it, and walked back to the location.

Once in a while, you have to take your turn as the Dolly Grip.

I wish I could post a link to our finished film here.  It was transferred over to VHS tape, but I misplaced my copy years ago after one move too many.  It resides hidden somewhere between the Ark of the Covenant and Charles Foster Kane's sled.

The Venice Chase turned out pretty well.  It was my first real editing experience and I was quite happy with it.  We all learned a ton about filming on location, schedules and editing.  Most importantly, we got an "A."  We definitely had the best "on location" story to tell the next week in class. 

And we also learned that sometimes the most interesting scenes happen behind the camera.

(Side note:  I know you're all dying to mock my late '70's/vintage/We Are Family Pirates cap.  We all did and wore many things we weren't proud of in the 1980's.  All I can say in my defense is if it was good enough for Willie "Pops" Stargell, it was good enough for me.)