How to keep from becoming an asshole.

So there I am, prepping this job in New Brunswick, and it turns out the client isn’t crazy about the location we’re presenting. The weekend is coming and we can’t really do anything until Tuesday, so I decided to go out and see if I could dig up some alternate locations.

You know what? It was a great use of two days.

Not just because I found a couple of really good locations, and not just because I got a chance to see a lot of the New Brunswick coastline, but because I got a reminder of how hard location scouting is.

I’m going to do a whole blog post on what makes for a good location scout at some point, but suffice it to say here that it’s pretty hard work. And when your assignment is as specific as mine was (an open-concept waterfront home with an uninterrupted horizon behind it, not too close to the houses next door, well-maintained, but not too upscale and by the way, not blue), it gets really hard.

I knew that. But now –– again –– I really appreciate it.

Every once in a while, do one of the jobs on the crew that you haven’t done in a while. Or that you haven’t done at all. It’s a really good way to keep from becoming an asshole.

Look what I found in New Brunswick!

Every once in a while I come across someone who has It.

I don't know what It is, but I know It when I see It, which isn't very often. This time, it was in New Brunswick, shooting this last job, casting for the role of the daughter.

Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Marie Michele Vienneau.

She's fifteen years old and until a couple of weeks ago, had never been on a set. And I'll tell you right now she's got what it takes to make it big.

Sure, she's adorable. But what she has goes beyond adorableness. She has a magical combination of confidence and innocence, awkwardness and grace. Mostly, she has a natural ability to make the camera fall in love with her.

I've seen this before. I've cast other people who have It, some of whom have gone on to success. And some who haven't.

Danny Fehsenfeld, the actor who played the lead in 'Burning Passion' has gobs of It –– although his It is more like Kevin Spacey's, an ease on screen that makes you wonder whether he's actually acting. What's weird is that Danny will tell you acting is pretending. And yet with him, I swear acting is being.

Ruthann Lentz has It, too, and I'm not just saying this because she's my wife. In fact, it's kind of the other way around: I fell in love with her because she has It. She hasn't gone on to fame and fortune either, but that's probably my fault for getting her knocked up twice and taking her out of the game for four years.

Which brings me to reality.

People can have It and not make it big. There are other factors. It takes skill and determination and luck and opportunity and timing and connections and hard work on top of It to find success in a business as brutal as film.

When we wrapped, I took Marie Michele aside and gave her some advice. Here's what I told her:

• Learn to speak English like an American. That's where the opportunities are.
• Don't ever do anything that makes you uneasy. If you're okay doing a sex scene or comfortable with nudity, fine, but it must be your choice.
• Don't ever get a boob job. Gwyneth Paltrow and Charleze Theron didn't get to where they are with fake boobs.
• Move to New York or LA if you feel you need to, but don't do it because you feel you're supposed to.
• Find a teacher you connect with and work hard at your craft. Aptitude is not enough. You have to develop your skill.
• Do the acting because you love it, not because you want to get famous or rich.

What I didn't tell her, but wish I did, is that success is hard. Extremely hard.

I sometimes wish I had the power to confer success on people like Marie Michele, Danny, and Ruthann, but to be honest, it wouldn't be fair to them if I could. Success is earned. When it's not –– I'm convinced –– you end up with Lindsay Lohan, who I've never met in person but I'm sure is utterly dripping with It.

I'll be keeping my eye out for Marie Michele. I'd love for her to make it big. And not just because I'd be able to say I found her first.

Sometimes it pays to work with amateurs.

I just finished shooting a job in New Brunswick.

A lot of people I work with couldn't find New Brunswick on a map, which isn't to say anything negative about the place, just that it's not exactly giving Hollywood a run for its money as a hotbed of film production. Let's just put it this way: Ambitious filmmakers in New Brunswick generally move to the big city, and by that I mean Halifax.

I've worked in New Brunswick before, so I know how to adjust. The crews are great. But most of the people who come in for an audition don't bother putting together an acting resume because the only experience on it would be 'Football Player 3' in their high school production of 'Grease' twenty years ago. 

If that.

The spot I was working on called for four roles: a father, mother, son, and daughter.

The father I cast was an absolute pro. He'd worked in larger markets and moved back to New Brunswick because he preferred the lifestyle. But the rest? Two of them hadn't even been to an audition before.

For the son I cast a brash 11-year-old who tagged along to his brother's audition. He talked the casting director into letting him read –– sold her, really –– telling her that even though he was too young for the part, he'd work really hard and do a great job. Our mom had been on one shoot as an extra and thought acting might be fun. And the daughter had taken a few acting classes at the community theater.

Not that there weren't plenty of other, more "qualified" people. Actors with a ton of professional experience, some of it in huge markets like New York and LA. But what I saw in these three was magic. The boy's confidence; the girl's awkward innocence; the sparkle in the mom's eye. Of course, I'd have to work that much harder –– not just in directing each of them, but in educating them to the process.

But I was creating a family and a family –– at least a family of my creation –– is made up individuals who have personality.

Sure, there are times when a line needs to be delivered in 3.2 seconds or a mark hit precisely. But if I have a choice between personality and perfection, I'll take personality, thank you very much.

As it turns out, I got lots of both.

I can't put a price on my head, but I know it's worth more than $60.

I just got back from shooting in New Brunswick, where the temperature was a delightfully crisp minus 15 degrees. And do you hear me complaining?

No you don’t.

The reason? Well, okay, we were shooting inside. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t have to walk from the hotel to the car or from the car to the location. One time, I even crossed an entire parking lot, plus a drive-through lane, to go into an A&W Root Beer Shop to use their washroom.

Hell, I was so comfortable that I walked the entire length of Main Street in Moncton one morning, from the traffic circle on one end almost all the way to the traffic circle at the other. And back.

I attribute it all to the hat you see in the picture. A shearling hat, with fuzzy sheep’s wool on the inside and ear flaps that –– to my eyes –– look a little like wings. Wings of mercy that come down and cradle my delicate ears.

Angel’s wings.

We were shooting interiors, but we could have shot exteriors. I wouldn’t have minded. I was comfortable.

The shoot went great, by the way. And that’s the lesson for today: Shoots go smoother when the director is comfortable.

Some directors take this to an extreme. They have a hard time concentrating if they don’t get exotic fare at the craft service table, nubile assistants of the appropriate gender and eagerness to please, and a coterie of fawning sycophants to stroke their very fragile egos.

For me, on this job, all it took was a hat.