Jesseca Kusher

The first week of November, 2018 I worked more hours on different film sets than I ever have before. In particular, on Wednesday I spent over 12 hours on set.

The first of these sets was that of a feature film that my professor, Phil Garrett is producing. We shot in the Mansfield State Reformatory where “The Shawshank Redemption” was filmed. It was a haunted, frightening old place. From the outside it looked like a beautiful castle, but the inside was full of rusty giant metal cages, winding dark stone passageways, and the remains of the “haunted trail” that had operated in the prison for the month of October.

On the feature film set I had the chance to interact with a colorful cast of characters. Some were very unsavory in the way they treated their coworkers and underlings. At one point I was physically pushed out of the way by a particularly disgusting misogynist. Other times I was called “sweetheart” and looked down to — not because I was working as a PA — but clearly because I was a woman. The other PAs I was working with from Kenyon received varying levels of similar treatment — but I know none of them were talked to like a sweet little girl.

Here’s the thing about the film industry — as I am growing to understand — we operate with a code of conduct not unlike the old courts of the middle ages. Everyone knows the weird sort of conduct and order in which they are meant to behave, and nothing outside of the norm is allowed. My God, I would say something like, “it clearly works,” but in light of the #metoo movement, what kind of person would I be if I sat back and allowed such conduct to be normalized?

When I was on set later that night, it was the set of AJ Reid’s senior thesis reshoot. AJ is my friend, and I did it as a favor to him. All and all I respect AJ for his preparation and knowledge. He clearly sets a vision and sticks to it. That said, there were some pretty uncomfortable moments on set when he clearly questioned by ability to record sound. I get that. I really do. This is his senior project and we were all cold and miserable standing around in the backyard of some kind swim coach — that said, I can’t help but wish that we, as a film industry, could set some higher standards for ourselves. Not in the sense of the pretentious air of authority we all sort of take on for our independent departments on set — but if only we could create a stronger, more honest sense of accountability.

Can’t we all be a little less fake and a little more real? Are we to be trapped in the robotic pacing that was outlined by a weird internal caste system, probably set as the “standard” in the 1950s? If we’re going to move on to the newest technology and tell our stories in different ways, shouldn’t we not also advance our concept of the workplace? Can’t we just be civil to one another? I dream of a future in which everyone is respected and held accountable for their job.