Because I was funding Claustrophobia myself, I decided it would be best to produce it myself - that way I would own the final project until I sold it for distribution. But producing is a big job and I couldn't do it alone. So I got myself a line producer, which is the person who focuses mainly on the day-to-day operations of the production. I hired Julia Stemock, who produced Foreign Correspondents, as she knows everything there is to know about making a movie, from a logistical point of view. She's also one of the only people I've ever met who doesn't run screaming from the idea of paperwork. In no time she came up with a workable budget for the film, prepared all the various contracts and forms I needed, and started putting her feelers out for potential crew members.

Hiring a film crew is just like hiring anybody else: you announce positions, receive resumes, then hold job interviews with prospective employees. That's how we found most of the Claustrophobia crew, such as production designer Michael Cacciotti and gaffer/grip Craig McNelley, two hard-working guys. But we found some crew elsewhere: First assistant director Michael Holm, costume designer Bethan Land and documentarian (and general help) Paul Deng were all ForCor veterans.

I also had four friends from New Zealand coming over on a pre-arranged agreement (i.e. I would pay for their accomodations while they were in Los Angeles, and they would otherwise fend for themselves). Those happy-go-lucky Kiwis were Bevan Crothers, director of photography (and one of the top cameramen in New Zealand - at the ripe old age of 23); his brother Daniel, boom operator and occasional stunt double; Daniel's roommate Lucas Young, who I'd known via email for over five years previously and who dutifully served as second assistant director; and Kelvin Wells, Bevan's TVNZ colleague who agreed to run sound for us before departing for England. (Click here to see the whole crew.)

While we were crewing up, and finding a cast, I took the time to storyboard the entire film. With a shooting schedule of a mere nine days, I couldn't walk to the set each morning not knowing what I was going to shoot. So that was time-consuming, aggravating, and killed my social life for a few weeks, but it was absolutely necessary for me to figure out just how I was going to visually present this movie. I also had meetings with Bethan about the costumes (most furnished by the likes of Ross Dress for Less, JC Penny, etc. Low budget!), Michael Cacciotti about the furniture, Michael Holm about the day-to-day shooting schedule, and Julia about everything else.

Then there was The House. Though I set the film in Oakland for some perverse reason, I wanted a house in Los Angeles, and a few months earlier an old classmate from CalArts held a housewarming party at his new home in an otherwise dodgy part of town. It was a cool house, and really big, and I had it in mind (with said former classmate's blessing) when I wrote the script. Unfortunately it was not yet ready for filming, so I had to help the homeowner completely redo his dining room. That meant tearing off plaster, sanding the molding, scraping the paint off the walls... Then he ordered the Kiwis and me to paint his back patio. The sacrifices we make for our art.