Wobbly Railings

Let’s begin the week with fluffy observations of inferior film-making. Why? Because over the past month I have had the need to take frequent breaks from “normal” life while continuing to be held captive in the role of one who is having a bout of extended illness which is hanging-on to my body as if whatever it is has no other vessel in which to play insidious games.

Therefore, I wincingly admit to spending much of my time in a form of bed rest rather than writing as often as I would prefer. And you know what “they” say: “Idle hands are the Devil's workshop.”

The Devil has made me watch one film after another rather than expanding my grey cells with interesting reading material, or to spend hours in silent meditation where I could commune with dazzling little pixies and benevolent Beings in Heaven’s playground. The daily movie marathons of mixed genre films – high quality to the most insipid drivel-sniffles – have flashed by with astounding speed.

Despite the escapist whirlwind, glaring mistakes that Film-making 101 at an underfunded community college would never allow to fly with a passing grade, have happened over and over again. Even when the films were blessed with actors of renown who must have been desperate to accept the gig.

In the midst of watching several made-for-TV movies, one consistent, blatant directing and camera-person error caught my attention: wobbling stairway banisters. Yep. Banisters that would not hold up if used properly in real life as a form of physical support. In truth, if anyone dared to lean on them they surely would have crashed to the floor – both the actor and the banister. The glaring glued-together set piece in these films were so flimsy they moved like a tuning fork in heat when anyone held onto them for an instant as the person dashed up or down the stairway.

Of course a film is not real life and the majority of the plots are as unrealistic as expecting Amy Winehouse to return from her umpteenth stint in rehab and put on a fabulous live performance. (Choke.)

Regardless, one element in movies we usually rely on is that most of the utilized pieces of a set are solid: chairs, tables, sidewalks and the like -- whether or not the plot makes one bit of sense.

I’ve noticed in many of the films I have been viewing that the main characters’ homes are often cleaner than an operating room with perfect, gleaming, hardwood floors; fresh flowers in crystal vases lining the impeccably uncluttered, perfectly designed foyer’s, and that most of the bathrooms are the size of a Manhattan walk-up and have luxurious bathtubs that don’t leak and are surrounded by candles at all times.

And, these precious homes always have staircases with shining wood or elegant wrought iron hand-rails/banisters.

All of the above indicate that the residence where the hero or villain lives is of the finest quality. It's not too much to ask of the set designers to ensure a staircase railing would be strong and safe, now is it? How could it be, then, that in at least four of the films I've recently watched those grand banisters nearly fell down and went boom? Is everyone still on drugs?

How did the director(s) miss this obvious visual gaffe? Surely there was more than one take of the scene.  Didn’t anyone watch the day’s footage and notice the problem? Didn't the person at the other end of the camera see what had happened?

For shame, I say!

What’s up with that sloppiness?

After seeing banisters with a bad case of the shakes, my focus on the next time someone went near the stairs was not what they were doing, but whether or not they would dare to pretend their steadying prop would not go plop!

Considering how many typos and punctuation errors I have made over the months in many a post I am probably not the best person to accuse others of sloppiness. It’s true I’ve rushed a post and missed mistakes in haste.

Believe me, when I have discovered errors my heart always sinks and I fall into a mild form of self-loathing terror. How could I have missed that, I scream to myself. I catch others’ errors all the time, yet miss my own until I have already embarrassed myself.

The difference is that I can always go back to the post and fix the problem, if for nothing else than to create a clean archive. Nevertheless, I don’t like to see a “too close” subjectivity ruin an otherwise interesting post because I am the only one checking my work.

In film or TV, however, there is no excuse to allow an otherwise half-decent project to go out to the public without a serious fix when there are many people in the crew who could have seen the tottering unhinged banisters causing a tacky glitch.

C’mon, all ye' filmmakers! Get a solid grip!