Tanks, booms and vampires.

All the hotel room has to offer in the ways of black liquid gold is Nescafe.. Instant coffee has a taste comparable to liquid shoe polish, but after a long night and a rising at 2pm, shoe polish is a welcome commodity. It ain’t no Mr. T coffee though.

We have gone from shooting days to shooting nights here in Romania. I tell you, there is a sense of eeriness filming in the woods at night around the resting place of Vlad.. If any sort of thing such as werewolves or vampires were to exist, it would be in this country. Walking from the set to the studio along a dark section of road gave a little pitter to the heart, but then again I am a neurotic actor. If I come home and sleep all day and avoid mirrors and anything with garlic, please bring it to my attention. Check my teeth before you drive the stake though, oh wait I already have a few pointed ones oddly enough. All I need is blood lust and I am all set. It is cloudy, as I look out my window upon Bucharest bustling below. Even for a Sunday the main artery running below my hotel room fills this man made gorge of shops and apartments with a steady flow of cars.
Last night was a battle scene on the streets of Castel Studios. We had zee Russians vs. zee Nazis.. Russians having a tank.. Well you can figure who became the victor of the conflict. It was an awesome experience to see a tank shoot and explode a pile of rubble down the war torn street.. Stuntmen flying through the air as an effect of a ball of flames. Simply amazing.

I haven’t got the official word, but it looks as if I will be here another week. I have been keeping in touch with my cohorts via this interweb in regards to the next project that my attention will switch to when this comes to an end. I am however taking at least a week to play before jumping back into film work. I plan to finish the year out with an aggressive attitude towards film making, both in acting and in production. Go art!

The heat forces me to run the AC all night, which in turn makes for a lovely drip in the back of my throat in the morning. With a constant sniffle, occasional snort, and rare clearing of the throat, it is such a glorious experience. The taste of Nescafe doesn’t help either, Salty, slimy shoe polish.. what a wonderful thought, sorry.

I have until a quarter til eight tonight to putz around. I think I may go down to old Bucharest, but everyone I call in the hotel seems to be lying in bed still, preparing for another night in the war torn streets. Perhaps it is the dry sandwiches at three am, or the coffee that has been sitting for hours on end, or the sitting and waiting and waiting. Whatever it is that makes them rumble and groan before hand it seems to be washed away by the camaraderie and sense of wow at how glorious of a job the art department and effects have done. Nothing brings out the boy in you better than a big explosion and ball of fire, or ratt-a-tat of a machine gun. None the less, soon enough we will all part and I will head back across the pond, and they will head back to their island edging the Atlantic that separates us. Our weeks of experiences though will be captured in an hour and a half story that we were merely players in.