Journal Zero

This week, a special guest blog post by a longtime friend of Night Zero, mister Jon Axell.

I’ve been a part of Night Zero since day zero. I can even remember the first day that the project had officially begun (day zero), and I still had the nerve to ask why it was not going to be named “Day Zero.” And if the pilot issue is, in fact, canon, then I am the first casualty of Night Zero to appear on the page. So that hour I spent lying face-up in the rain while the blood ran into my eyes made me famous, I hope.

Needless to say, I’ve been involved in the project as much as anybody, if you’re counting consecutive months of at least some involvement. But I’ve probably donated fewer hours than anyone who has appeared as more than just a scratcher. You see, I am afraid of commitment. I’m surrounded by suspiciously hard-working friends who have devoted a great deal of their time and capital to this endeavor, and I was thrilled to see it take form as a full-fledged production at ComiCon Seattle, and the record-breaking Fremont Zombie Walk.

I don’t think people realize why this graphic novel series looks so much better than the one written by your friend with the corpse fetish. But I know why. It’s because these guys put in twice as much effort as they need to in order to ensure they don’t end up like something drawn up by expert programmers whose hobbies include “perversion.” Every action the franchise takes is put forth because these guys want to take their dream there. Their creative drive is all that can and does sustain them. They’re their own little New City within our working, thriving society, pushing hard to spread their work, as well as Night Zero’s message of “drink alcohol or you’ll become a destructive force that kills everyone around you.” I could never do it.

Anyways, I had been dipping in and out of the world of Night Zero as a scratcher or a corpse, walking in on weekly staff meetings, and digging what needed to be Dugg for a long time until my girlfriend (a very pretty scratcher and friend of the franchise) took on the role as a lead heroine in a vignette piece. Forest and Anthony were then kind enough to give me the role of “her boyfriend” over many handsome rivals, who I assume went home crying, or reported to scratcher call and devoured my guts alongside Sara. Because, let’s face it, there’s no chance of a happy ending in the world of “Night Zero.” From what I’ve read and what I’ve done, every life spent in the fictional post-apocalyptic Seattle is either a life that finds itself devoured by scratchers or devoured by survivors. The only choices they have are which, and when. Ironically, that’s what gives a future to this project: the struggles of hope and anti-heroism have countless narratives to be told, and I think this frightening canvas is the way to do it.

For the “Flynnette” (so-called because it was short, and written by a guy named Flynn), I sacrificed a few weekend hours and my beard to tell the story that went on to be known as “untitled vignette.” We shot on the UW campus on a spring weekend, so the place seemed apocalyptically empty. The rain helped stave off hackey sackers and frizbee-loving quad-goers, so we had the slick brick pathways and grass all to ourselves. And as the sugary blood of our scratchers and victims pooled in puddles, I thought about the benefit of being on the Night Zero set: I am being trained for the zombie apocalypse. When I’ve been used as a scratcher - and covered in that fake blood the crew makes that could easily be re-sold under the brand name “Bees Love It!” - I’ve been coached on how to think as a scratcher, how to hunt as a scratcher, how to die as a scratcher. As a survivor, I’ve seen characters around me slip and fall, or not plan multiple escape routes. I’ve endured the heat and endured the cold, all while these guys pour hours and hours into production meetings and photoshopping sessions. And I’ve come out of it with this conclusion: the crew of Night Zero is from the future, sent back to prepare us for what’s to come. Why else would they do this? What besides the drive to ensure our species’ survival would lead them down this road? Pleasure? Creative vision? This isn’t “Penny Arcade.” This is much more real.

What I’m saying is this: give it a try. Put aside raking this weekend and come out and eat somebody. If you don’t like it, don’t ever come back. I promise you will look awesome no matter what, and you’ll probably gain a slight advantage over your oafish roommates for when the zombie apocalypse does happen, and everyone else you know gets eaten.

Jon Axell

The rain and pale skin were natural side effects of laying out in the January rain

Sticky and smiling on the hottest day of the year

Getting ready to take down a messenger

Jon ends up dead more often than not

Covered in sugar syrup? Covered in bees!

Our Hero

Afraid of nothing, Jon stands tall

Welcoming with open arms

Playing around with his new friends

Smile, everyone!

It's not ALL bad, being in Night Zero

Scratcher catchers has the distinction of the longest script-to-shoot leadtime (12.5 months), and up until recently Jezebel held the record for shortest script-to-shoot (2.5 weeks). Sisters is probably going to forever hold the shortest shoot-to-online turnaround (6 hours), and here we finally get to see Yevgeniy’s house, which tops the chart for longest shoot-to-online turnaround (10 months). It seems so long ago that we all got together to shoot our first scene from Episode Three, and yes, that’s because it WAS so long ago. And thanks to the shift from single-storyline to segmented scenes, this one photoshoot comprised the entirety of Katrina and Ben’s commitments for the Episode. Good for them, getting it out of the way early, but still a bit sad for everyone not having as many excuses to work with them throughout the year.

Sometimes I write my blog posts immediately upon completion of the shoots, other times I write at the time of posting for some retrospection. This is the latter, which means while my memory may not be as sharp, my perspective is, and the first thing that comes to mind is what changes first came along at Yevgeniy’s house and what we’ve learned to change since then.

The most significant shift with this shoot is that it was our first with Eli as the principal photographer, rather than as production goon and behind-the-scenes guy. Among his bag of tricks was a larger variety of lenses, enabling us to do some great wide shots and closeups that would have been impossible on our older equipment, as well as the live-view monitor, which gave the cast and crew a remote screen to preview the camera’s viewport. Having the dedicated photographer on set allowed me some freedom to step back and serve more producer-like roles for a change, and have some time to work with Kelly on keeping the production smooth and efficient. This was before the advent of the shot cards so we were still working off of page-restricted storyboards, but the perspective gained from watching Kelly work was part of what helped inspire the changes that (eventually) led to the shot card system.

Yevgeniy’s house was also our first chance to work with the ubiquitous Ben Andrews outside of the Episode One/Two office building, and this scene gave him some freedom to explore his character and personality away from the watchful gaze of the Nazarov sisters. While not as dirty or adventurous as his cameo in the Sisters vignette, Yevgeniy’s role in this scene is still a good development opportunity and our first genuine look into his relationships with the Nazarovs and Marion. For his costume, the dress shirt calls back to his suit at the office, but the deep red color is a direct contrast to his blues and silvers then, and compliments the wine, wood, and windows of his house. For Marion’s costume, darks to contrast her daytime colors and to emphasize her utility as a spy, with both her new costume and wet hair to contrast her ability to go home with Claire’s dependence on others.

More than any shoot before it, this shoot was a very casual and low-key production, despite the quantity and diversity of photos required. We had done a handful of other shoots at interior locations before, but always ones rented or borrowed or lent, and always with time restrictions on the part of either the cast or the location itself. For Yevgeniy’s house, we shot at a private property of our own, with a full day scheduled and no deadlines or cutoffs. Which isn’t to say we slacked our way through, quite the contrary, but it was definitely an easygoing and friendly kind of day. (My memory is fuzzy, but it may have been Superbowl Sunday.)

The opening of the scene is the type of visual sequence perfect in a film montage, and our attempt to recreate it in comic form has both its strengths and weaknesses. While we cannot fade from one image to the next, or slowly pan across an empty table with candles flickering low, we can overlap imagery and present a dark collage of deep, silent colors. Where a film could cross the room and lift itself up the stairs, we have juxtaposed the imagery to show the relative spaces without the motion in between. It’s less of a cinematic effect and more of a compromise for scene/environment establishment, but at the very least it’s got some pretty gorgeous photos. Our mysterious woman in the scene is the charming Lauren Logan from the local improv community, and she was a blast to have on set for her (all-too-brief) cameo. With her patience and Eli’s ingenuity, we succeeded in capturing the incredible overhead shot of her descent down the stairs– the kind of shot that’s easy in an illustrated comic but nearly impossible in photography. It’s dramatic, it’s different, and it is by far one of my favorite Night Zero photos of all time.

All smiles before the serious work begins

By grace of architecture, an incredible shot opportunity

Ben takes a break while Katrina gets her hood just right

Blam! Lighting the kitchen

Our first shoot with live previews of the shot

Pay no attention to the book in his hand, he's really a cool guy

Marion and the table steal the spotlight

I don't know what it is, but it sure surprises Ben