And that's a Wrap

Principal photography has finished. We had our wrap party during which I witnessed the incredible sight of one of the producers body popping. I wish I was making that up, but Neil Peplow is a big hip-hop fan and at one point was spinning on his back in the middle of the dance floor. And spinning some tunes. And then he popped a cap in our asses. Because he's old skool.

One of those statements is a lie.

I had a bit of a dance, then realised that the sedentary lifestyle of the writer has severely reduced my dance floor endurance. I started dancing like I used to in my twenties, then started sweating like a man in his fifties. Note to self: avoid heart attack by moving arms and legs occasionally in your life.

During the party I had three people independently comment to me that everyone was there "because of me". It felt it churlish to mention the free bar.

Joking aside, I know what they meant, and I kind of refute that idea. It's pandering to the worst kind of egotism. We are all where we are as the result of a lot of different things and people. For one thing, if the production staff and crew weren't working on this film, many of them would no doubt have found work on some other film. We all gotta eat.

Yes, my script was the catalyst to get these people together and that's kinda cool. But that's all it is. Took me long enough to get here. I've been trying to write things since I was sixteen.

When my script first got optioned, I asked Justin when I should celebrate. He said "When you're sitting in the cinema and the credits roll."

That was almost two years ago. I still haven't celebrated. Not really. Each little victory along the way I've done a little internal "Whoo-hoo!" but I've yet to really kick back and howl with joy. I wonder if it's really in me.

Our main boys (Marc, Dean and Chris) got me some presents and a home made card with a photo on the front. Which I would love to share, but seeing as they are all in costume in the piccy, it's a no-no. Very touching though.

Then we all shuffled away into the night, some vomiting, some crying, some babbling about the premiere.

Next stop, the rough assembly...
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