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

The beginning of Episode three gave us a wonderful opportunity to introduce three new characters, and also a whole subset of the Night Zero world: the Skullhunters. Except for fragments about the charming Edge, we haven’t quite gotten the whole story on the Skullhunters. So now, meet the trio: West, Axel and Sawtooth. We thought it’d be interesting to discuss the process of how each of the trio wound up with their distinctive look.

These characters allowed for us to really branch out past our born-of-utility drab and dingy color. The skullhunters are personas of their own invention, without societal constraints (think super-villains).  The script presented descriptions of the trio, ranging from specific to vague. This was the most premeditated costume design, with a small costuming budget and a long back-and-forth process between myself and Anthony, the director. I did some visual research for my ideas for each character with photographs found online, which allowed us to speak with the same language when discussing ideas, which we had not before. We found that we don’t all use the same words for describing costuming. What comes to mind when I say “suit”? Does that just mean a tie with jacket? Is it a three-piece matching affair, or perhaps a jacket isn’t essential for the “suit” look? Sending off two pictures and saying “more like this one or the other?” helps us narrow down ideas and pick out essential elements.

West was always meant to have a classic cowboy look, and the production team had very specific ideas about this. He was to have a duster-style coat and mismatched pistols. He’d wear the brown leather hat oft sported by the actor that plays West. That left me with finding the jacket (easy… craigslist is often a costumer’s best friend) and the basic underlayers. I’d thought this would be no big deal, but actually finding a traditional cowboy-style shirt (faded plaid, pearl snap buttons, yolk collar accent) was a challenge in the thrift stores of Seattle. After visiting (literally) every Goodwill and Value Village in the city, I found West’s shirt in a retro-clothing shop for $20. At first Anthony was a little dubious of the pale pastels of the plaid, but eventually agreed that it looks great against the dark bulk of his jacket. Pattern of any kind isn’t typically encouraged with this type of photography, so keeping it more subtle was key. Two mismatched pistols were added to our growing armory of prop and airsoft weapons, and we called West good.

Sawtooth was also fairly well-described in the script, however not all of the initial ideas for this character were practical. He was written as a hulking intimidating man (check, our actor is wonderfully imposing) who had, when in prison, filed his own teeth down to points to use as weapons. While that detail was very informative about this guy’s past and his mental status, in practice we couldn’t make it work. We played with ideas ranging from tooth black makeup to a big silver grill, but these were quickly abandoned as unworkable and we moved on to just making Sawtooth big and scary. And a little crazy. Our actor already had the biker aesthetic we wanted, so putting him in black with some chains was easy enough. When shopping for something else in the Army Surplus store, we walked past a display of retro goggles and joked that we should put them on Sawtooth. Up to that point, we were going to try more of an S&M type look with leather bands and collar, etc., but the switch to the completely crazy-person goggles solidified who he was to us. Sometimes ideas thrown out in jest wind up being the best part of a costume. I added some scars and played with facial tattoos on location. What started as the standard “teardrop” prison tatt, became the crazy whirling swirls that ended up in the photos. The teardrop, with the scale of our actor, just looked strange and not at all scary.

Axel was the most nebulous of the three, literally described in the script as “shorter than Sawtooth and either taller or shorter than West”. Not much to go on but, from his dialogue, we realized he was the clown. Once we locked in on this, his character gave me the most leeway and was the most fun to design. After a shortlived idea of a Napoleon Bonaparte-inspired look, I started thinking about Charlie Chaplin and the 1930’s train tramp. Some quick visual research got us to the essentials: bowler hat, fingerless gloves, bow tie and baggy distressed jacket. I got to learn the skill of bow tie floofing, which was a lot harder than I’d imagined, even with the video tutorials found online. The bowler hat was the most essential part, and naturally most expensive, and I think it looks just great. I also wanted to be sure he got the shotgun that looks somewhat like a cane, which our actor wielded beautifully.

Scratcher/Cranson didn’t require a lot of costuming forethought. Our actor for this particular role was a zombie enthusiast we’d met at the Crypticon horror convention the week prior. He was cast on the spot, at our booth, once he showed an interest in performing. His distinct look, bald head and goatee were perfect for a former-Skullhunter-turned-scratcher, so I just asked him to come as he was. I had the amazing canvass of the back of his head to produce one of my most favorite gore effects to date: a gaping gunshot wound. I found this technique by accident, as I’d forgotten to bring along tissue to build up under the latex I usually use for three dimensional effects. I looked at what I had in my kit, and settled on a dried out alcohol pad. I cut a hole in the fibers and secured it with latex and scar wax. It created a wonderful little receptacle for fresh blood and looked thoroughly disgusting.

Designing these character’s looks was a great learning exercise for us. Since then, we’ve been thinking much more critically about what our characters’ appearances says about them and the world in which they live. Look for subtle clues in the costuming and makeup in all of the future frames, there is information there.

Next up? Literally dozens and dozens of scratchers at once. Our next big (and biggest ever) endeavor takes us to the streets and I’ve finally enlisted the help of some wonderfully talented makeup artists. The result is going to be epic and we cannot wait to share it with you.