October 10, Thursday.
'Run Lola Run's third day of shooting; the crew was still camped in the northwest-corner apartment of the Montana District.
Lola's home sets off all three storylines, so the sequence had to be perfect. They'd blocked out three full days; today was the last.
It was already past three in the afternoon.
Inside Lola's bedroom, now stripped down to barely twenty square metres, seven or eight bodies squeezed in. Add camera, fill lights, bounce cards, and the Room was stuffed; the rest of the team hovered outside.
Yet the atmosphere stayed oddly quiet.
That hush had been the crew's constant companion since day one.
From the first slate Simon never shouted like some directors, never lectured the crew on exactly what he wanted.
Mostly he stayed silent, silently scanning the set, silently framing shots through the viewfinder, silently metering every corner, then issued crisp orders.
If that were all, the crew might have savoured the calm.
After countless tirades on other sets, who wouldn't want a director so quiet he seemed almost neurotic?
But three days in, no one felt relaxed; the pressure only mounted.
Their young director was simply too demanding.
Take the very first shot on day one: Simon spent over two hours just on lighting.
A back-lit close-up merits care, sure.
Yet this wasn't some big-budget spectacle, only a simple insert. Two-plus hours was absurd.
Some crew, remembering Simon's age, began to wonder if the kid even knew filmmaking; others muttered he was flexing authority for its own sake.
After three days of gripes, when Simon spent half an hour tweaking a sub-second shot of a falling phone, gaffer Josh Wickman finally snapped.
Josh Wickman, thirty-three, had started as a sixteen-year-old apprentice and logged seventeen years in Hollywood. Short on talent and luck, he'd stayed in indie circles, but he was old guard nonetheless.
Deep down he sensed Simon's tweaks often helped, yet the endless, minute adjustments were torture.
It was excruciating.
Now Wickman dropped his meter and barked at the faintly puzzled director, "Simon, this set looks brilliant. Stop wasting time".
The outburst froze everyone; all eyes turned.
Simon glanced at the call sheet. "We're not behind. Three shots left, we'll finish before wrap time".
The crew blinked.
Doing the maths, they realised that despite Simon's nit-picking they'd kept pace.
The kid always knew exactly what he wanted, so reshoots and "safety" takes were rare. Usually they prepped, rolled, and after three or four takes moved on, speed born of decisiveness.
Yet that very briskness, the absence of slack, quietly ratcheted up the pressure.
Wickman, far from soothed, snapped louder: "Whatever, you can't keep this up. Or maybe you just don't know what you're doing, rookie".
Hearing the row, Ron McMillan and Sandra Bullock hurried in from the outer Room.
Ron glared at the increasingly agitated gaffer. "Josh, what's going on?"
"Going on?" Wickman shouted back. "I've had it." He shoved a bounce board and glared at Simon. "Kid, you think you're Martin Scorsese? I quit".
With that he kicked another board and stalked out.
Ron stood stunned as his gaffer quit on the spot.
This couldn't happen.
Ron started after him, but Simon caught his arm.
Simon's face hardened as he scanned the Room. "Maybe my standards are high, but I won't lower them. If you can't handle it, leave, now".
Silence.
Three days had pushed Wickman over the edge; the rest weren't ready to bail. In Hollywood below-the-line crew, like actors, often wait tables between gigs, walking isn't trivial.
Simon waited, then added, "One-time offer: leave now and we part friends. Strike again mid-shoot and we'll sue".
He looked around until everyone nodded, then picked up the kicked bounce. "All right, back to work."
But with the gaffer gone, who would light the shot?
That question hung in every mind.
During a film shoot, other crew members might occasionally double up on roles, but the gaffer's job demands real expertise. The assistant the production had assigned to Josh Wickman stayed on, yet it was obvious he couldn't handle the work.
Simon ignored everyone's misgivings and told the young lighting assistant to start setting up the lights again.
Ron McMillan watched the scene, exasperated, turned to Kathryn who was about to step in, and whispered something.
After hearing Ron, Kathryn moved to Simon's side and murmured, "Simon, why don't we call it a day?"
"It's fine, Kathryn, trust me," Simon reassured her with a look, then pointed to a fill light. "Could you switch that off first?"
Seeing Simon wouldn't budge, Kathryn nodded and began to help.
Ron watched the set bustle back to life, left the Room, hurried next door, and grabbed the phone to scrounge up another gaffer.
But Ron wasn't one of the big-name producers; after several calls he still had nothing.
He hesitated, sighed, and headed back to the set to lend a hand.
They worked straight through quitting time.
Although the phone-dropping shot had eaten up time, the next few setups went smoothly.
Before they knew it, the remaining scenes were completed, without a gaffer, and the young director seemed to light them as well as any professional.
No one knew how the footage would look.
But…
Then again, Simon was also acting as his own cinematographer, so maybe it wasn't that strange.
A cameraman does need to know lighting.
Still…
A twenty-year-old shooting an entire feature as Director of photography is hardly normal.
Some crew even wondered: if they'd walked out like Josh Wickman, would the kid have taken over their jobs too?
Impossible… right?
Baffled and intrigued, everyone headed home.
As producer, Ron McMillan wasn't relaxed; he worried whether today's shots, and the whole three days' worth, would even be usable.
He felt Simon was simply too green.
Ron had wanted to hire a seasoned Director of photography, but Simon insisted on doing it himself.
That was Ron's biggest fear.
So when wrap was called, Simon left with Janette to scout tomorrow's location, while Ron stopped Kathryn and rushed with her and the day's negatives to Fox Studios.
Because they were shooting at the same time as 'The Butterfly Effect', Brian De Palma had offered a shortcut: 'Run Lola Run's negative could be processed at Fox's post facility alongside 'The Butterfly Effect'.
The lab costs still had to be paid, of course.
Even so, Fox's professional lab outclassed any independent facility; pristine original negative is vital, and the better the lab, the safer the footage.
It was a significant favour.
"I had Fox print dailies of the footage we shot two days ago; we'll see the results today," Ron explained to Kathryn once they arrived. "If, Kathryn, if the dailies look off, maybe you should take over directing. It's a $650,000 investment".
Kathryn gave a small shake of her head. "Ron, you should have a little more faith in Simon".
"I do, really, but he needs a few more years," Ron said, embarrassed at the behind-the-scenes coup. "Still, he's too young, and you've seen how these days have gone".
Kathryn just smiled and said nothing more.
At the post facility, while Ron was logging in the day's negative, David Giler and Brian De Palma strolled in chatting.
They greeted Ron and Kathryn and came over.
Ron had been introduced to Simon by David; Kathryn was already known to everyone.
After small talk, learning Ron and Kathryn were about to watch Simon's dailies, both David and Brian grew curious.
Brian said, "Perfect, we're checking our own dailies. Let's watch together. I'm really looking forward to Simon's film".
Ron and Kathryn exchanged a glance.
Oh Simon… your footage had better look normal.
Otherwise…
It would be disastrous.
Praying silently, they followed David's instructions and headed to the screening Room.
Inside they found veteran star Robert Redford and a few techs; Redford was producing a picture in post and often used the facility.
After greetings, Redford was about to leave, but when David mentioned the young director, he perked up. "David, is this the kid who broke five guys' legs?"
David nodded. "Exactly. And Simon wants to enter Sundance, so come take a look at what he shot".
"Sure," Redford said, "though I'm more curious how he managed five broken legs, one against five? Was he trained like Bruce Lee, some real kung fu?"
David grinned. "You can ask him yourself."
Hearing Redford would stay, Ron and Kathryn sent up another silent prayer for Simon.
Laughing, the staff soon delivered the reels.
Brian skipped The Butterfly Effect and asked them to run Simon's 'Run Lola Run' dailies first.