On the early concepts and location scouting for the protest shoot

I don’t recall exactly the expression he used at the time, but when Alexander first dropped hints of the plot developments in episode four it was in the form of grinned warnings: the story was taking a dire turn, and it wasn’t gonna be easy. I don’t even remember how long ago it was that these first bits of conversation came around, but already by January of 2009, when episode two was just halfway through production, the schedule was cognizant of the episode four “protest shoot” which would require the full resources of the entire Night Zero family. Looking back through conversations and emails, hardly a meeting goes by without a drop-in reminder of our upcoming challenge. As a writer, Alexander is entitled to be protective of his unfinished works and usually preferred to have complete drafts before sharing them, but in this situation we had numerous conversations over the first half of the year, well before the script was in full draft, to enable the pre-production work to incubate.

Prior to this point, a typical production cycle for Night Zero was about a month. We already had our scripts prior to production as well as the major cast, so the only “X” factor was a shoot location and scheduling. Most of our shoots were either in the houses and apartments of the cast/crew, or on campus at the University of Washington, so all around it was a very… amateur approach. With episode two, we were just beginning to explore more advanced location scouting (including rental locations and film permits), breaking into production-level lighting equipment, and developing production methods that required larger crew support and more detailed scheduling. The skills we were developing in response to these self-imposed quality demands were not just part of taking Night Zero to a higher level: they were essential to laying the framework for what would be required when our focus turned to the behemoth challenge of episode four.

As usual, our first and most difficult task was that of of location. We needed a public forum, large enough to support the crowds and infected, and flexible enough to adapt to possible script changes. We would need to shut down pedestrian and vehicle traffic for our depopulated future, and ideally we’d need something with minimal financial overhead. Dozens of production meetings surrendered time to this discussion, with ideas ranging from the University of Washington to downtown Tacoma to a moderate office building with a greenscreen. Naturally, all of these were eventually vetoed on the grounds that I insist we produce everything for real. If we want the story to show that they are in the middle of downtown Seattle, we have no choice but to shoot in the middle of downtown Seattle. It wasn’t going to be easy but we were going to anyway, and when all was said and done, we would have the quality that could only be accomplished by doing it for real.

So it became a scouting mission, days spent wandering the streets of downtown with a camera and a notepad, looking for potential plazas. I came back with four or five feasible suggestions and passed my notes to Kelly, who valiantly took the task of trying to communicate with these unknown entities. It’s almost incomprehensible how challenging it is to get a hold of a person even vaguely responsible for a building’s property, but Kelly was tireless in her efforts and from her work we narrowed down and focused on the one best-suited and most-likely-to-communicate: the United States government.

Built in 2004, the Federal Courthouse building in Seattle is a beautiful 23-story tower with a lovely plaza and a very modern facade, but I was most impressed by the dramatic (and terrorist-attack-resistant) concrete stairs that surround the entrances. The stark lines and flat color communicated a harsh reality, the tiered-landings provided multiple levels of action and status, and the surrounding area gave the real feel of being in the middle of the city (because, frankly, that’s where it is). On the downside, there are few organizations with more red tape and bureaucracy than the post-9/11 federal government, but at the same time, they cannot ignore inquiries and they cannot deny reasonable requests. So there were many many emails and phone calls with Kelly, numerous meetings with various city, police, Department of Transportation, federal, and U.S. Marshall officials; dozens of security, liability, and insurance contracts; and more than a fair share of negotiations and compromises. But as summer came along, we were well on our way.

In the meantime, we had to shoot the near-entirety of episode three, break the Guinness world record for the largest zombie walk, produce the Sister’s vignette, and make appearances at more than a few conventions and events. We had to schedule our cast members for two days of protest shoot and get the permits and location agreements for that date and time, which could not be rescheduled; we had to find ourselves a hundred zombies-to-be and find a way to supervise and corral them during an HDR photoshoot; and we needed to come up with the logistics to coordinate, makeup, feed, and schedule them in addition to the principle cast members and dozens of production assistants and crew. We would need costumes, we would need some heavy-duty lighting equipment, and we would need some experienced hands if we were going to keep a handle on the juggernaut that was moving inexorably towards the 26th and 27th of September.

And that we did.