GeneChing
03-17-2010, 09:29 AM
Jackie already did the sushi chef fight in Spy Next Door (http://ezine.kungfumagazine.com/forum/showthread.php?t=51786). Why was there a sushi chef in a Chinese restaurant? For the fight scene of course!
Fists, fish fly in Broomfield filmmaker's 'Kung Fu Sushi Chefs' (http://www.dailycamera.com/entertainment/ci_14657266#axzz0iSKIfxOE)
Sushi chefs get tough in Todd Bradley's production
By Dylan Otto Krider For the Camera
Posted: 03/14/2010 05:36:22 PM MDT
These days, there is no shortage of "independent" filmmakers shooting with iPhones and home video cameras. But when Broomfield resident Todd Bradley makes a movie, he does it right.
For his latest project, "Kung Fu Sushi Chefs," the writer/director/sound man has a crew of more than 40, including an assistant director, cinematographer and producer. The two lead actresses and a cast of six mooks -- the goons the leads get to knock around -- have been rehearsing at the Academy of Kung Fu in Louisville for three months for one fight scene.
The idea came from two associates of Bradley's, Erika Maiko Gibson and Mara Jane King. One night, the two sushi chefs were joking around at Magnolia in Louisville, where they work, about how funny it would be to have a fight scene with a 28-pound salmon. So, Bradley started working on the script.
"I wrote it with them in mind," Bradley said.
The software test engineer likes a challenge. He got into filmmaking by joining some local filmmaking groups and formed Exploding Corpse Productions for his projects, about eight short films so far.
He's already done a "test shoot" called "Birthday Girl," which will be shown at the Emerging Filmmaker Project in Denver. He tried to start a similar showcase in Broomfield, but had trouble generating a following.
In the dojo, fight choreographer Ken Kao has the actors time their moves to a metronome, slowly increasing the tempo with each run-through. The actors have varying degrees of martial arts training, but Bradley said kung fu on film is different from the real thing.
Five-foot-1 Gibson has trained in Akido for years, but this is all new.
She is a fan of kung fu films, but has no acting aspirations and just thought it would be fun. This is her first time acting, and her biggest problem, so far, has been smiling during fight scenes.
"I'm having so much fun, I can't help it," she said.
East and West approach fight scenes differently. Hollywood likes a lot of cut shots -- a scene lasting a few seconds is shot over and over again until it looks slick. Hong Kong films tend to use stunt people, who literally have the chops, and prefer longer wide shots to show the audience the lack of trickery. Bradley's film falls somewhere in the middle.
Bradley is has no illusions about the prospects of having his film hit the multiplex. He is willing to divvy up the profits if "Chefs" "made it big," but drawing up legal contracts for "deferred payment" seemed like a lot of wasted effort when the most he can hope for, if he does happen to catch some Hollywood producer's eye, is getting a budget for the next project. Particularly since it is a short film, with a proposed run time of just under 30 minutes.
The test shoot cost Bradley a couple of thousand dollars, and he's running the "Chef" film as a nonprofit, with a proposed budget of $11,000. He has already put in a couple of thousand of his own money and hopes to get the rest in donations, both in terms of money but food and locations (lunch is a minimum compensation for actors volunteering a day of their time for filming).
Bradley said his team has a reputation for being the most technically proficient, with proper sound, lighting and a professional quality camera (albeit on the lower end) rather than a home movie camera.
King has since quit sushi -- both the film and the cuisine -- to spend more time with her family, a consequence of an unpaid, volunteer crew. Her replacement is Rachel Yan, whose background is in martial arts.
"I teach her how to make sushi, and she teaches me kung fu," Gibson said.
By the time the film is done, she and Yan will have beat up somewhere on the order of 40 mooks. It takes a lot of time, but she recruited her husband, Nick, to take his lumps.
In her career as a sushi chef, Gibson said she's cut herself once. As for martial arts, she said the men have learned anew the lesson from high school physical education about the importance of wearing a cup.
Perhaps a film like this can lead to bigger things than a screenings at some local film fests. The assistant producer, Bob LaRue, teaches video at Fairview High School, and his son, Joe, used to make home movies. Now Joe LaRue is a TV producer in California. Does Bob LaRue think his son owes his success to those smaller projects?
"Oh, yes, certainly," he said, especially when smaller productions are done in a professional way.
Bradley knows he is asking a lot for people to donate so much time, money and effort to a movie. But, he said, they wouldn't do it if they didn't love it -- as he does.
"Some people buy cars and boats," Bradley said. "I make movies."
Fists, fish fly in Broomfield filmmaker's 'Kung Fu Sushi Chefs' (http://www.dailycamera.com/entertainment/ci_14657266#axzz0iSKIfxOE)
Sushi chefs get tough in Todd Bradley's production
By Dylan Otto Krider For the Camera
Posted: 03/14/2010 05:36:22 PM MDT
These days, there is no shortage of "independent" filmmakers shooting with iPhones and home video cameras. But when Broomfield resident Todd Bradley makes a movie, he does it right.
For his latest project, "Kung Fu Sushi Chefs," the writer/director/sound man has a crew of more than 40, including an assistant director, cinematographer and producer. The two lead actresses and a cast of six mooks -- the goons the leads get to knock around -- have been rehearsing at the Academy of Kung Fu in Louisville for three months for one fight scene.
The idea came from two associates of Bradley's, Erika Maiko Gibson and Mara Jane King. One night, the two sushi chefs were joking around at Magnolia in Louisville, where they work, about how funny it would be to have a fight scene with a 28-pound salmon. So, Bradley started working on the script.
"I wrote it with them in mind," Bradley said.
The software test engineer likes a challenge. He got into filmmaking by joining some local filmmaking groups and formed Exploding Corpse Productions for his projects, about eight short films so far.
He's already done a "test shoot" called "Birthday Girl," which will be shown at the Emerging Filmmaker Project in Denver. He tried to start a similar showcase in Broomfield, but had trouble generating a following.
In the dojo, fight choreographer Ken Kao has the actors time their moves to a metronome, slowly increasing the tempo with each run-through. The actors have varying degrees of martial arts training, but Bradley said kung fu on film is different from the real thing.
Five-foot-1 Gibson has trained in Akido for years, but this is all new.
She is a fan of kung fu films, but has no acting aspirations and just thought it would be fun. This is her first time acting, and her biggest problem, so far, has been smiling during fight scenes.
"I'm having so much fun, I can't help it," she said.
East and West approach fight scenes differently. Hollywood likes a lot of cut shots -- a scene lasting a few seconds is shot over and over again until it looks slick. Hong Kong films tend to use stunt people, who literally have the chops, and prefer longer wide shots to show the audience the lack of trickery. Bradley's film falls somewhere in the middle.
Bradley is has no illusions about the prospects of having his film hit the multiplex. He is willing to divvy up the profits if "Chefs" "made it big," but drawing up legal contracts for "deferred payment" seemed like a lot of wasted effort when the most he can hope for, if he does happen to catch some Hollywood producer's eye, is getting a budget for the next project. Particularly since it is a short film, with a proposed run time of just under 30 minutes.
The test shoot cost Bradley a couple of thousand dollars, and he's running the "Chef" film as a nonprofit, with a proposed budget of $11,000. He has already put in a couple of thousand of his own money and hopes to get the rest in donations, both in terms of money but food and locations (lunch is a minimum compensation for actors volunteering a day of their time for filming).
Bradley said his team has a reputation for being the most technically proficient, with proper sound, lighting and a professional quality camera (albeit on the lower end) rather than a home movie camera.
King has since quit sushi -- both the film and the cuisine -- to spend more time with her family, a consequence of an unpaid, volunteer crew. Her replacement is Rachel Yan, whose background is in martial arts.
"I teach her how to make sushi, and she teaches me kung fu," Gibson said.
By the time the film is done, she and Yan will have beat up somewhere on the order of 40 mooks. It takes a lot of time, but she recruited her husband, Nick, to take his lumps.
In her career as a sushi chef, Gibson said she's cut herself once. As for martial arts, she said the men have learned anew the lesson from high school physical education about the importance of wearing a cup.
Perhaps a film like this can lead to bigger things than a screenings at some local film fests. The assistant producer, Bob LaRue, teaches video at Fairview High School, and his son, Joe, used to make home movies. Now Joe LaRue is a TV producer in California. Does Bob LaRue think his son owes his success to those smaller projects?
"Oh, yes, certainly," he said, especially when smaller productions are done in a professional way.
Bradley knows he is asking a lot for people to donate so much time, money and effort to a movie. But, he said, they wouldn't do it if they didn't love it -- as he does.
"Some people buy cars and boats," Bradley said. "I make movies."