The Real Z

Lights, Camera, Action!

Z has spent a week and a half planning the biggest scene in her movie, the music video for Mari’s band, Needles in a Haystack. Her bedroom is stuffed with props, backdrops, a rolling cart of costume changes, and borrowed rain jackets and umbrellas, and she’s checked and rechecked a shoot-day list covering everything from the park permit to snacks that won’t grease up anyone’s costume, down to hoping the forecast holds at 80%. Dad seems skeptical that she needs to rent a fancy drone camera for a later shoot at the Locks, but Z is determined that this movie has to look like more than one of her usual videos. She’s spent too much on the rental to also rent tripods, borrowing Mom’s instead. Before they head out, she grabs the director’s clapboard her parents gave her as a gift, thrilled to finally use it.

The morning starts perfectly. The forecast called for rain, and a light drizzle is falling by the time Z, Mom, and the band set up camp at the empty community park, tucking cameras and instruments under pop-up tents. With the playground deserted in the wet, Z breaks the shoot into tidy half-hour blocks. But two hours in, a guitar string snaps. The guitarist’s mom didn’t realize she’d left her spare strings at home, so she has to drive one over. Z jokes that the guitarist could just fake playing since she adds the real audio in later, but Mari insists that isn’t fair for their very first music video. She doesn’t want to pretend. Then the rain gets heavier, Dad reports a fallen tree snarling traffic on his run for more tarps, and the whole crew stands around getting nothing done.

Restless, Z decides to make use of what they have and asks the band to dance in the rain without raincoats, something Mari had already been pushing for. They’re hesitant until Lauren cranks music from her phone, and the louder it gets, the harder everyone dances. One by one they join in, Z included, busting out her most awkward moves until even the shy drummer loosens up. For a few minutes Z stops worrying about shot lists and lenses and just films the moment: Mari spinning with her eyes closed, the drummer and guitarist pretend-ballroom-dancing. It’s the first footage all day that actually feels usable.

Then thunder cracks, and the fun is over. Lightning forces everyone back into the cars to wait it out, band and Lauren piling into Mom’s car while Z stews over her ruined shot list. The band chats and laughs in the backseat, unbothered by the weather, while Z fumes. Mom offers her filmmaker wisdom about rolling with the punches, which does nothing to improve Z’s mood.

Stuck waiting, Lauren reminds her about their gold rush presentation Monday. She wishes aloud they had Z’s laptop to rewatch the Kit video first. She also brings up the “Homework Hacker” script Z still hasn’t read. Z realizes how distracted she’s been by her movie. When Mom checks the radar and gently suggests calling off the shoot for good, Z can’t hide her disappointment and snaps at her before turning to sulk against the window, watching the rain streak sideways across the glass.

Before they leave, Mari finds Z to apologize and hands her a flash drive, a recording of the band’s own cover of “Singin’ in the Rain,” recorded just days earlier for Z’s edit. Mari admits the band liked it so much they might start performing it at the Beanery, but she wanted Z to have the file regardless. Z thanks her, but she isn’t sure anything can cheer her up. Her first real shoot has been a bust, and she can’t stop worrying that means her movie is doomed, too.