On most stages, the air conditioning is set to arctic tundra, and the red ‘rolling’ light, when activated, cuts off the air, as blowing air makes noise and sound people hate noise.
We’re currently shooting on a converted warehouse stage, and they did a good job with it, but they don’t have the air conditioning tied to the light system and the noise was…problematic, so at some point, production just decided to shut off the air and not turn it back on.
In Northridge*. In August. With the outside temperature at a balmy 108.
Remember that story about the slowly boiled frog?
At first it wasn’t too bad, but as the temperature outside climbed, inside it just got hotter and hotter, but we’re always hotter than the important people because we’re moving around, so no one really pays attention to a sweaty crew.
At some point, someone brought a box fan from the office, which, to be fair, did move the hot air around a bit directly in front of video village.
By the time someone remembered to turn the air back on, it was too late. We were the boiled frog.
As the air grew increasingly stale, second meal arrived, and crafty set out Korean food, which is delicious, but doesn’t smell good in a hot room with no air circulation.
Don’t get me wrong, I like kimchi, but the burps aren’t great even when there’s ventilation. I guess it’s just lucky we wrapped before the farting started.
At wrap, I stepped outside and the 98 degree evening seemed cool and refreshing.
I’m going to sleep tonight with an ice pack behind my neck and a fan aimed at my head.
Northridge , a neighborhood in the northwest San Fernando Valley, is Spanish for “Jesus fucking Christ it feels like a goddamn oven outside.”
Filed under: long long drives, Work, California, good lord, heat, heat wave, san fernando valley, summer
Totally Unauthorized 
Good to see you back. Been wondering…
With my BMI settled just south of 20, I find most stages to be frosty meat lockers. Long pants and a long-sleeved shirt.
And aren’t we supposed to be somewhat green in Hollywood?
I well remember all those late summer rig days on stage in the valley, 100+ outside and the AC left off inside because hey, there aren’t any actors, writers, or producers on stage, so who cares about the Morlocks who do all the heavy lifting? Things improved somewhat towards the end of my time in Hollywood, mainly because the producers realized they might be liable if one of their below-the-liners got heat stroke — so once the Best Boy asked for the AC to be turned on, they pretty much had to comply. But they didn’t like it…