Picture's Up! Rolling!

A Cinematic Confession

Despite my boundless enthusiasm and love for the chase, my documentation of Wilmington's cinematic landscape has proven to be as successful as trying to thread a needle while riding a mechanical bull. (I know this from personal experience—not because I’ve actually ridden a mechanical bull, but because I watched many such riders at Gilley's in Pasadena during the 80s.)

Remember my quest to find the "Driver's Ed" set? The one where I ended up at Flaming Amy's on its closed day, engaged in mortal combat with cross-traffic on busy streets, and returned with precisely zero footage? 

"You've been fumbling around like a toddler in a Toys-R-Us," Princess Amy observed this morning over coffee at Circular Journey Cafe. She was particularly smug today, her imaginary tiara gleaming cheekily in the morning sunlight.

"I've been documenting the process," I said, stirring my latte with what I hoped was a level of dignity that served me well.

"You've been documenting your ability to get lost, park illegally, and eat craft services food you weren't offered," she replied, examining her royal nails. "Remember when you tried to coach Beau with his lines and he got fired?"

I winced. "Not lines," I said. "He had only one line. And take the tiara off, it's reflecting sunlight around the room and getting everyone's attention."

"No one can see it but you," she said. "And the film industry is off to a slow start this year. You might as well relax and find something else to do with your time."

She was right, of course. My cinematic adventures have been more "America's Funniest Home Videos" than "Behind the Scenes with Scorsese." 

Ms. Wonder suggested yesterday, in her gentle but firm way, that I might benefit from a more structured approach.

"Genome," she said, her voice warm with the patience of a saint, "perhaps a map would help? Or possibly writing down the actual addresses instead of just driving around hoping to bump into Molly Shannon?"

"I do not just drive around," I said with a good deal of topspin. "I use my GPS; I use two. Which may be part of the problem because Mildred on my phone GPS often disagrees with Maggie on Wynd Horse."

So here I am this morning, writing to you from the podium of my personal TED-X show--The Circular Journey Cafe, admitting my shortcomings as your cinematic correspondent. I've been as reliable as a Magic 8-Ball in a magnetic field when it comes to finding and documenting film productions.

But that's about to change! I've acquired an actual map of Wilmington (yes, paper—and this bit of vintage technology feels comforting to someone out of the past century). I've programmed Wynd Horse's navigation system with the address of the Cinespace production office, and I've subscribed to all the local media for tracking filming schedules.

Princess Amy insists my new plan will fail, but I reminded her, "That's what they said about the lunar landing."

"No one said that about the lunar landing," was her reply, but I assured her that wasn't true.

"Statistically speaking, someone must have said it would never work," I said. And I thought it was a pretty good comeback considering I had no time to prepare.

My point, dear readers, is this: The next time you read about my adventures chasing film crews around the Carolina coast, you can expect fewer wrong turns and hopefully, although I can't promise, fewer instances of me being kicked off set before lunch.

My previous documentation efforts may have been a blooper reel, but my inner director just called "action" on the 2025 filming year, and this time, I'm determined to nail my lines.

As the First Camera Operator would say, "Rolling!"