October 10, Thursday.
The third day of shooting for Lola Run, and the crew was still stationed in the apartment in the northwest corner of the Montana district.
The scenes at Lola's house kicked off each of the three story segments, making them especially crucial in the film. The crew had scheduled a full three days for this part, and today was the last.
It was already past three in the afternoon.
In Lola's bedroom, the temporarily modified room—now less than twenty square meters—was crammed with seven or eight people. Add in the camera, fill lights, reflectors, and other gear, and the tiny space was packed to the brim, with some folks stuck waiting in the outer room.
Yet the atmosphere inside was remarkably quiet.
This had actually been the unanimous feeling among the crew since filming began.
From day one, everyone noticed Simon's directing style was unusually distinctive. He didn't yell like some directors, nor did he go into exhaustive detail about exactly what he wanted.
More often, Simon maintained a quiet demeanor—quietly surveying the set, quietly framing the upcoming shot through the viewfinder, quietly checking every corner with the light meter... and then issuing concise orders.
If that were all, the team might have thoroughly enjoyed this relaxed shooting experience.
Compared to the endless shouting and nitpicking they'd endured on other sets, who wouldn't want a director who was quiet to the point of being a bit neurotic?
But over the three days, most of the crew not only didn't feel relaxed—they felt mounting pressure.
The young director was just too demanding.
On the first day of shooting, for the very first shot, Simon spent a full two hours just on lighting.
As a typical backlit scene, spending extra time on lighting was fair enough.
But this wasn't some big-budget epic set piece—it was a simple close-up. Two hours on lighting was excessive no matter how you sliced it.
And given Simon's age, some crew members even started doubting if the kid really knew anything about filmmaking. A few figured he was just dragging things out to assert his authority.
The doubts and frustrations built up over three days, and when Simon spent another half hour tweaking a phone-drop shot that lasted less than a second, the gaffer, Josh Wickman, finally snapped.
Josh Wickman was thirty-three. He'd been in Hollywood as a gaffer for seventeen years, starting as an apprentice at sixteen. Though his average talent and lack of breaks kept him stuck in indie film gigs, he was still a veteran in the biz.
To be fair, Josh could vaguely sense the finesse in some of Simon's adjustments, but he couldn't stand the guy's lengthy, repetitive deliberations.
It was torture.
Now, Josh tossed aside the light meter he'd been holding and raised his voice at the seemingly puzzled young man. "Simon, I think this setup is already perfect. You can't waste any more time."
With Josh's sudden outburst, everyone stopped what they were doing and looked over.
Simon listened to Josh, then picked up the shooting schedule nearby and glanced at it. "I'm not wasting time. We scheduled three days for this location, and there are only three shots left. We can wrap before quitting time, no problem."
Hearing this, everyone was stunned.
Doing a quick mental tally, they all realized that while Simon was picky about details, the shooting progress hadn't lagged at all.
The kid seemed to always know exactly what he wanted. So, indecisive retakes or extra safety shots were rare. Most times, everyone meticulously prepped a shot, rolled camera, and unless something went wrong, it was usually just three or four takes—then done. This efficiency quietly sped up the overall pace.
But maybe it was this no-nonsense momentum that unknowingly piled on the pressure.
So, when Josh heard Simon's explanation, he inexplicably got even angrier. "Anyway, you can't keep doing this. Or maybe you don't even know what you're doing, you little rookie."
Sensing the argument, Ron McMillan, Sandra Bullock, and a few others who'd been in the outer room quickly came in.
Ron saw Josh getting more worked up and immediately scolded him. "Josh, what's going on here?"
"What's going on?" Josh shot back louder. "I'm fucking done." With that, he haphazardly shoved aside some reflectors that were already set up, glaring at Simon again. "Kid, you think you're Martin Scorsese? I'll tell you what—I'm out."
Saying that, Josh defiantly kicked another reflector and stormed out.
Ron was stunned as the gaffer just quit on the spot.
This couldn't happen!
But as Ron started to chase after him, Simon held him back.
Simon's expression had darkened too. He scanned the room. "Maybe my demands are a bit too strict, but I don't plan to change that going forward. So if you can't handle it, you can leave now."
Everyone stayed silent.
Over the three days, Josh had indeed been pushed the hardest, leading to his blowup. Others had gripes, but nowhere near quitting level. In Hollywood, crew were like actors—often unemployed. Landing a gig wasn't easy.
Simon waited a moment, then added, "This is your only chance. Leave now, and we can part amicably, no hard feelings. But if anyone walks out mid-shoot later, the production will pursue it to the fullest."
With that, he scanned the room until everyone nodded in agreement. Then he bent down to pick up the kicked-over reflector. "All right, back to work."
The gaffer was gone—no one to light. How were they supposed to shoot?
The question popped into everyone's mind.
In filmmaking, other jobs might allow for some crossover, but gaffing required serious technical skills. The assistant they'd assigned to Josh stayed, but he clearly couldn't handle the role.
Simon ignored their concerns, instructing the young lighting assistant to reorganize the gear.
Ron watched the scene, feeling helpless. He pulled aside Katherine, who was about to help, and whispered a few words.
Katherine heard him out, then went to Simon's side and said softly, "Simon, maybe call it a day?"
"It's fine, Katherine—trust me," Simon said, giving her a reassuring look and pointing to a nearby fill light. "Could you turn that one off for me first?"
Seeing Simon's resolve, Katherine nodded and started helping.
Ron watched them get back to work, then left the room and hurried next door. He picked up the phone to try and line up a replacement gaffer ASAP.
But Ron wasn't some big-shot producer. After a few calls, no luck.
Hesitating a moment, he sighed and headed back to the set to pitch in.
They kept at it, and quitting time came quickly.
Though they'd lost time on the phone-drop shot, the remaining scenes went smoothly.
So, almost without realizing it, everyone was stunned to find that even without a gaffer, they'd finished the last few shots—and the young director's lighting work was no worse than a pro's.
Though they didn't know how it would look yet.
But.
Considering Simon was also handling cinematography himself—well, that kinda made sense.
A cinematographer had to know some lighting.
Still.
A twenty-something kid doing a film's cinematography was pretty unusual.
Some even wondered—if they'd quit like Josh, would the young director take over their job too?
That couldn't be possible!
With all sorts of amazement and questions, everyone clocked out and headed home.
As producer, Ron wasn't at ease. He doubted if those last shots were usable. Actually, he even worried about the whole three days' footage.
Simon was just too young, after all.
And Ron had always pushed for a pro cinematographer, but Simon insisted on doing it himself.
That was his biggest concern.
So after wrap, while Simon took Janet to scout tomorrow's locations, Ron stopped Katherine from joining and pulled her aside. They grabbed today's exposed film and rushed to the Fox lot.
Since it overlapped with The Butterfly Effect, and thanks to Brian De Palma, Lola Run's film could go to Fox's post-production center for processing alongside Butterfly's.
Of course, they still paid for developing.
But even so, Fox's pro facilities beat indie labs hands down. Original negatives were vital to a film—the better the processing, the better the quality.
So it was a solid favor.
"I had Fox's post center develop a sample print from the first two days' negatives yesterday—we can see it today," Ron explained to Katherine on the way to Fox, revealing why he'd brought her. "If, Katherine, if the dailies aren't up to snuff, maybe you should take over as director. This is a $650,000 investment, after all."
Katherine shook her head slightly. "Ron, you should have more faith in Simon."
"I do, of course—I'm optimistic about him, if he gets a few years' experience," Ron said, a bit embarrassed at plotting to oust the director behind his back. But he pressed on: "But he's still too young, and you've seen how things have gone these past few days."
Katherine smiled, saying nothing more.
At the post center, while Ron registered today's film with the staff, David Giler, Brian De Palma, and a few others walked in, chatting and laughing.
Seeing Ron and Katherine, they came over to say hi.
Ron had been introduced to Simon by David Giler, and everyone knew Katherine.
After some chit-chat, learning Ron and Katherine were about to view Simon's dailies from the first two days, David and Brian got interested.
Brian De Palma said, "Perfect—we're here for our own dailies too. Let's all go together. I'm really looking forward to Simon's film."
Ron and Katherine exchanged a glance at that.
Simon, oh Simon—your footage better be decent.
Otherwise.
It'd be a disaster.
Silently praying for the guy, David Giler gave instructions to the staff, and they all headed to the dailies screening room.
In the room, there were already people: veteran Hollywood star Robert Redford and a few staffers. Redford was producing a film in post, hence his presence.
After greetings, Redford was about to leave when David Giler mentioned a few things, piquing his interest. "David, is this the kid who broke five guys' legs?"
David nodded. "Yeah—and Simon wants his film in Sundance. So maybe stick around and see how the kid did."
"Sure," Redford agreed, but added, "Though I'm more curious how the little guy broke five legs. One against five—that's impressive. Did he study kung fu like Bruce Lee back in the day?"
David laughed. "You can ask him yourself sometime."
Hearing Redford was staying, Ron and Katherine started praying for Simon again.
Amid the banter, the staff soon brought in the dailies.
Brian De Palma skipped Butterfly Effect and signaled to play Simon's Lola Run footage first.