1 - 3
Behind the Scenes and Credits
When Tucker Harding (TERUMI MATTHEWS), a writer of hard-boiled fiction, steps out to buy coffee one day in 1953, she finds herself mysteriously transported to 1997. Wandering confused through New York's East Village, she collides with Drew (NICOLE ZARAY), a jaded young woman with blossoming self-destructive urges who is desperately trying to locate where her car is parked so she can escape the City. These two soon realize they are both "time freaks" -- souls who are able to live time out of order. Tucker and Drew join forces to unravel the mystery of Tucker's impending murder in th 50's. Their efforts are confounded by femme fatale Ophelia (BELINDA BECKER) and man-fatale ISAAC (JAMES URBANIAK).
The film was shot in Super-16 in 1996 in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, and after a year on the festival circuit was released theatrically.
The film is unrated but best for kids over 12 as it contains one moment of violence that is disturbing, though brief and bloodless. HOW TO SEE IT: Available for purchase on DVD through Amazon and for rent on Netflix.
• Venice International Film Festival 1997
• Toronto International Film Festival 1997
• Thessalonki International Film Festival 1997
• Rotterdam International Film Festival, 1997
• Mar del Plata Festival, Argentina, 1997
• Creitel Festival of Womens’ Film 1997
• South by Southwest 1997
• Philadelphia Festival of World Cinema 1998
• Maine International Film Festival 1998
• Olympia International Film Festival 1998
• The New Fest (NYLGFF) 1998
• San Francisco Lesbian and Gay Film Festival 1998
• MOMA, Good Machine Retrospective, 1998
8 - 13
Terumi Matthews as Tucker. Photo by Melissa Soltis
Terumi Matthews as Tucker. Photo by Melissa Soltis2
Director Hilary Brougher. Photo by Melissa Soltis
Terumi Matthews and Belinda Becker. Photo by Melissa Soltis
Nicole Zaray as Drew. Photo by Melissa Soltis
Nicole Zaray and Terumi Matthews. Photo by Melissa Soltis
Terumi Matthews, Lolita the best picture cat ever and Nicole Zaray. Photo by Melissa Soltis
Cast and crew. Photo by Melissa Soltis2
Producers Jean Castelli, Isen Robbins and Susan Stover. Photo by Melissa Soltis
Jean Castelli and Hilary Brougher. Photo by Melissa Soltis
Dan Hersey and Ethan Mass. Photo by Hilary Brougher
7 - 11
Behind the Scenes & End Credits
The Sci Fi of Sticky
About the Production
The fun of sci-fi is that speculation is required. Science taken alone is a serious-tasting noun -- mechanistic, requiring trial and empirical data to sanctify it as fact -- whereas sci-fi allows one to indulge the wildly creative and intuitive side to "science" in the safe-for-play sandbox of "fiction."
Of course it is every sci-fi-makers hope that the models we build shed some insight on the here and now -- the best reason to escape the planet, being to get a better view.
"It's thicker than blood..." --Ofelia
There are certain riddles science just hasn't cracked: leaping immediately to mind are death and the soul. Personally I think the blank that science has drawn is a good thing, as humans seem to have a way of putting profound understanding to bad ends. Look what we did with the atom, for example. Were we to find such a CODE, a DNA of the soul as is described in the film -- I can't help but imagine we would at once set about to re-engineer it with zeal.
Whether or not the soul is ever successfully quantified, its re-programming is already underway. The nefarious consumer culture engineers of the near future are of course already here and at work at conforming our consciousness using all the tools at hand --
all the more reason to entertain paranoia in fiction.
What is the Code?
Rather than a substance, we think the CODE is an arrangement of substance -- low level bits of "bio-electricity." The CODE is the sum of these infinite tiny patterns -- encoding memory, conditioned emotional responses and whatever psychic intuitions of the future we may possess. This explanation allows the CODE to animate and possess the flesh while also permitting the out-of-body ramblings of ghosts as well as the disturbing possibility that such a code could indeed some day soon be "recorded and regenerated."
The Code and Death
Sticky embraces (loosely) a version of re-incarnation in which CODE (like DNA) is passed from generation to generation, via a selection from a common "pool," including bits from all beings that ever lived. Thus we have many "soul-parents." Whether this selection is utterly random -- or mandated by some higher law -- of physics, the stars, karma, etc., I have chosen not to worry about.
"We can live time out of order, but not the same moment twice." --Tucker
Sticky's notion of Non-Linear Time allows the affected "time freak" to live time out of order but never the same moment twice (preventing the Groundhog Day effect of living the same moment over and over again).
It was important to me that "time travel" heightened the characters' responsibilities and their stakes, that it was not "an easy way out." Therefore, the repercussion of any action on the line is that it instantly rewrites the line from then on. For better and worse, the Sticky time freaks make their beds, and must lie in them (with whom I'm not telling).
Sticky was a dare. Having observed my years of frustration trying to push larger scripts off the ground with myself attached as director, Isen Robbins, an old friend and budding producer, issued me a challenge: write something we could shoot for very little money, locally, on video, casting friends and acquaintances.
Out of these limits emerged the film's East Village/Brooklyn/Staten Island locations, and a cast of characters loosely based on a familiar peer group. Within these parameters, I did not want to make a blatantly autobiographical film about a filmmaker trying to make a film, nor did I want to do a realism-infused fantasy about a grungy crime lifestyle below 14th street. Frankly, I knew I was a geek at heart, and that's the sensibility I was most qualified to turn into a first feature. Around this time, I was immersed in some short stories by James Tiptree Jr. (a woman writer using a male pseudonym - shades of Tucker Harding) who published from the late 50's through the 70's. Her work brought me to the startlingly obvious revelation that good "science fiction" brings you into an alternate world in order to give you perspective on your own local reality. Due to the lack of budget, I had been looking for a way to get a fresh perspective on the immediate world. I found science fiction to be both a logical choice and a tantalizing challenge.
Taking the low budget first film into a more fantastic and allegorical realm was in fact an intimate move for me. I've always found a very personal comfort in dense, layered narratives with a touch of melodrama and an uninhibited absurdity.
I think I chose the 50's for the film's "past" chapters because it was the decade of my parents' childhoods, and somehow the farthest back I feel I can personally touch and/or indirectly remember. It's also possible that I have millennium fever, and can't help feeling a sense that much of what was beginning then for America is ending now (take for example advertising culture, blossoming then, smothering us now). But along with the portents of destruction in the Cold War and the H-Bomb, it was also a time when writers were working with a freshness and urgency (Baldwin, Burroughs, the Beats) and art and jazz were getting "modern". In this milieu, I was intrigued by portraying the 50's in a way not usually represented in the movies, via a character like Tucker: quietly hard at work, not at making dinner, but at her manuscript.
I wanted -- and for budgetary reasons, needed -- to make a film with virtually no special effects, one that relied on simple suspension of disbelief to transform my familiar neighborhoods into extraordinary spaces ripe with metaphysical possibility. Non-linear time -- the ability to live time out of order but not the same time twice -- lent itself naturally to the challenge. After all, it's a deception that films ever appear "in order" as they are always shot out of order. Sticky worked in something of the opposite way: a "non-linear" film that could actually convince an audience that they were experiencing time out of order while still making sense logically and emotionally. This required me to be extremely careful in both the conception and execution of Sticky.
Sticky is the story of a friendship made possible by the paradox of non-linear time. The film's most daunting challenge was trying to convey sci-fi logic in a way that fundamentally served a narrative about human relationships. The early drafts featured complicated scanning technology, speeches on the nature of non-linear time, a sinister government Agency from the future etc. All of these had to be eliminated or radically simplified because they stopped the emotional line of the film dead in its tracks. As Jean Castelli, Good Machine's Story Editor, reminded me during the endless rewrites, Sticky is more about the physics of emotion than it is about the nature of time, and no one will bother to understand complicated sci-fi logic if they don't care about the characters.
Sticky has been described as a love story, an ode to the literary process, and a new riff on the time-travel genre. All these are true, but above all, the film is for me about finding the courage to trust your creativity. Through the protagonist Drew, we are forced to take charge of our imagination and believe in our ability to "travel", a metaphor for writing, for imagining and for materializing intuition. Time travel is the perfect device because it is not confined to a desk; it is utterly cinematic and can take you anywhere. Around this notion of traveling at will -- of choosing your future -- I wanted to make a film that would challenge our jadedness as an audience and cause us to speculate with uninhibited pleasure.
I had worked with Hilary on earlier projects and I knew that she would have a very specific aesthetic in mind: moody and shadowy (but not too obvious); a kind of "color noir" with a sense of mystery. We spoke at length about how to handle the different time periods and how to best bring the audience into Tucker's somewhat "alien" 1950's world while communicating her point of view of our present.
I had the benefit of a very skilled and creative gaffer, Brian Pryzpek. Together he and I managed to get out of our small equipment package the images that the film needed. Our budget didn't allow for a deep lighting inventory, but we did have fairly broad choice. Ultimately, we used everything we could get our hands on, from 60 watt bulbs to a 9-light FAY. We mixed hard and soft light frequently while trying to keep certain constants: the 1950's material was generally intended to be softer and flatter while the present-day material was to be a bit harsher and more contrasty. For the 1950's we combined soft tungsten units, Kino-Flos and paper lanterns (which we used almost everywhere). One of the advantages of black and white is that in most cases color temperature is not very critical. For the present we added to the mix, hard tungsten sources, open-face lamps bounced off beadboard and some small HMI PARs.
The project graduated from Hi-8 video to 16mm and then finally to Super 16mm by the time production rolled around. Once we began discussing how to handle the look of the film and how to photograph the different time periods, we turned our attention to some technical issues and how to get the best 16mm to 35mm blow-up.
We discussed some films that went through the blow-up process including Clerks, She's Gotta Have It, Leaving Las Vagas, Vanya on 42nd Street, The Incredibly True Adventures of Two Girls in Love, The Brothers McMullen among them. Hilary preferred a clean blowup with rich colors and good blacks and I knew that our lighting package was not going to be substantial. We didn't really want a "New York gritty look" We wanted something subtle, so that when the period changed, the audience went along with it instead of thinking to themselves, "Wait a minute. Why does the outside look so different from the inside?" My first decision was to overexpose almost all of the film, from 1/3 to 2/3 of a stop to try to create a negative that would allow us to make the cleanest possible blowup and the richest possible blacks (rich, solid blacks were at the top of Hilary's list).
Overexposing worked well except that we could only afford video dailies; we didn't print anything and the video dailies were timed unsupervised, so the image was rarely what was intended. On subsequent low budget projects, I've made it a priority to communicate as much as possible with the video dailies colorist, since it is their work that is the reference for the entire post-production period, from editing to the sound mix.
The different photographic "looks" in the film are Contemporary New York and Brooklyn -both interior and exterior, day and night, 1953 Brooklyn and 1970's Poconos. Present day NY is the location for about 80% of the film, and since our equipment package was going to be small I chose Kodak's 7293 as the main stock for the film. Working with finer-grained film (for example, 7245 or 7248) would have resulted in a cleaner 35mm print but the advantages of staying with one main stock were more important in this case.
Since we were to be shooting very quickly and we would probably have to move from interior to exterior unexpectedly and work outdoors from morning to evening I felt that using one stock for day interior and exterior would be the best strategy. Part of this decision was that I didn't want the film's "feel" to change unless in was motivated by the plot. Switching from 93 indoors to 45 outdoors (when it's sunny) to 48 outdoors (when is overcast) would have given us a tighter blowup overall, but would have cost us time switching magazines, given us a lot of shortends (when we were watching every penny) and taken away from the impact of the story-motivated stock changes.
For night exteriors, I was prepared to use 7298, but after testing Vision 500, the results were so impressive that we used it for our few night exteriors. The image is so clean for a high speed stock, I couldn't believe it. We had set up a scene outside a parked car on a city street. We lit and shot our scene and as we were wrapping the producers asked me if we could pick up an unplanned, one-shot scene while we were there. In the scene, an actress walks up the steps to an apartment door and rings the buzzer. I shot it at T1.3 under only the light from the foyer (which read at T1.3 at 500) and the streetlight overhead. In the distance the lights from the storefronts and car headlights read realistically.
We needed a different look for the motel room in the 1970's. We weren't really sure what we would get since we had no chance to test the Fuji stock, but I'm happy with the look of the scene. The color palette, the contrast and the grain are different enough from the rest of the film to enhance the meaning of the scene, while not being so heavy-handed that the audience is distracted from the story.
The hardest decision was how to handle the 1950's material. We knew we wanted black and white, but the blow-ups I've seen from Plus-X and Double-X were too contrasty and grainy for this project. We didn't want the black and white to look like a newsreel or a flashback. The film frequently cuts between black and white and color and it was important that the stocks intercut smoothly. I've shot a lot of Kodak black and white both, 16mm and 35mm, and I love the look of it. The problem comes when you try to enlarge the 16mm to 35mm -- it starts to fall apart. It doesn't blow up as well as their newer, more modern stocks.
I know that for finishing on video, color film is often shot and transferred in black and white, taking advantage of the full contrast range of the modern stock. I had seen an Acura commercial broadcast in black and white which looked terrific. I later read that it had been shot on 5287. This convinced me to try shooting color stock for blow-up to black and white. I was worried that something like this could result in confusion when it came time to make our blow up. Our producers assured me that if this was the look we needed, they would do their part to help the process go smoothly. I needed to show Hilary, who was intrigued by the idea, that the difference in the blow-up would be so noticable that it was worth the extra potential costs and risks. DuArt did a test for us and blew up a sample of Double-X to compare with 7293 blown up to black and white. The results were convincing. The black and white original had very high contrast and more apparent grain, while the color original had a wider contrast range with a more subtle range of greys and less grain.
I was still concerned about the contrast picked up in the blow-up from the 7293. We wanted the 1950's material to have the feel of films shot in that time. Also, I thought it would help the story if the period material had a softer tone than the contrasty contemporary material so I made a last-minute, untested decision: the black and white portions of the film would be shot on Vision 320, a lower-contrast color original with even less grain than 7293. Having seen the blow-up, I am very happy with this decision.
Finally, I am pleased with the work that we accomplished and grateful to our terrific crew for giving their all for the project. When we were crewing up (before there was a budget for salaries), all I could offer people was a promise: that if they worked on the film, it would be something they'd be proud of for a long time. Even if they worked on larger films that reached a wider audience, as long as they had Sticky on their resumes, people would be asking "What was it like to work on that?" I expect to be able to deliver on that promise.-
-- Ethan Mass
The Sticky Fingers of Time began as a conversation between Director Hilary Brougher, Producer Isen Robbins, and Cinematographer Ethan Mass, who were long-time friends and independent film colleagues. "We didn't have money, we didn't have a script," says Hilary, "but we had our belief in each other, our collective experience and total dedication."
For Hilary, Sticky was a last chance at a first shot. She had been living in New York since she finished her studies at the School of Visual Arts, working on production jobs and writing constantly and trying to get various film projects off the ground. "I knew that I couldn't go on like that. I felt a huge potential for solid creative work inside me, but the 'waiting' had gone too long, it was going to burn me out... It got to the point where I had nothing to lose by risking a no-budge production. By this time I also had a comfortable amount of on-set experience and had Ethan's commitment in hand."
Recalls Hilary, "When Isen said, 'O.K., it's time to produce this thing,' I knew we could do it. There's a touch of the conjurer in Isen's productorial style. He can make people believe, and then taking that belief, he can change reality with it. He was the spark that set us off. Even though it was a crazy risk I knew we had a good shot."
With the goal of writing something that could be shot using available local resources and locations, Hilary wrote the first draft of The Sticky Fingers of Time in about two weeks. Isen began seeking enough money to shoot the film in video from friends and acquaintances while Hilary began what was to be an exhaustive year of rewrites.
A year earlier Good Machine co-founder Ted Hope had advised Hilary to just do it, just go make a film. "Ted had been very honest with me, and his insight that when a film has momentum, support will follow had actually been very encouraging."
Hilary sent an early draft of Sticky to Good Machine, where it immediately sparked Story Editor Jean-Christophe Castelli's interest. An admirer of 10-30 Rosebud, another script of Hilary's, Castelli saw many of the same qualities in Sticky. "What I particularly love about Hilary's writing is the sheer density of her imagined world," says Jean. "She took the challenge of doing a very low budget script quite seriously. But instead of a nice little romantic comedy about two people sitting in a coffee shop, Hilary comes back with this fantastically complex and quirky script that changes its storyline each time a character hops from one period to another."
Taken with the idea, Jean worked with Brougher in an intensive but somewhat unusual process of development. "We discussed the usual things like plot structure, character development and so on," he notes. "But often, we'd get into these involved debates about the nature of time, arguing over whether there was a single line which was altered when a time traveler intervened in the past, or whether there were actually multiple lines, parallel alternate realities created with each action. Things could get pretty metaphysical."
"Thankfully, Jean was relentless, not just about the script but about the craft," says Hilary. "Rewriting Sticky helped not only the script evolve, but my ability to write." Though it was not a Good Machine project at this point, Castelli's involvement as story editor gradually turned into a producing role.
The growing Sticky team was soon joined by producer Susan Stover. Susan had recently finished work as a line producer on the Good Machine production, Love God, Frank Grow's delirious monster movie. "Susan and Jean were great assets," says Hilary. "Both possessed a level-headedness which complimented Isen's passionate full-throttle energy, and my tendency toward details. We made a very balanced team."
Though there still wasn't much of a budget to speak of the filmmakers decided to forge ahead as if there were, fueled by a mix of creative energy and a touch of "do-or-die." "In
development," says Hilary, "so much time had been spent waiting for commitments that hadn't panned out. The dangling 'maybes' had become more cruel than the 'no's'. We had going for us a good script and a core of creative and enthusiastic people; together we had so much energy we just had to move forward. There was just no question."
The film was almost ready to go -- a mere two weeks before production was scheduled to start. Sticky had just enough money in the budget to put the film "in the can" -- i.e. to complete production. All salaries would be deferred, and the schedule would be a grueling three-week/six-day shoot. This would be an unusually risky course of action, as many features shot under similar conditions never make it back "out of the can".
At the eleventh hour, Good Machine's Ted Hope managed to secure the financing to take the film through post-production and blow-up. He brought in Crystal Pictures, a production company with an unusual willingness to take risks on the more difficult type of independent film. Though Sticky fit into that uncategorizable category, Crystal had already fearlessly plunged into Frank Grow's wild, hallucinatory Love God. Sticky became the second co-production between Crystal Pictures and Good Machine.
This financing brought Sticky to a still harrowing yet more stable budget. The shooting schedule changed to four five-day weeks, and minuscule proletarian salaries were offered to the cast and crew, most of whom had already joined the production. Good Machine and Crystal's involvement also facilitated a decision to shoot super-16 instead of the regular 16mm format. "In the end, our preparations to shoot for a bare-bones budget paid off when more money arrived, because we were already hyper-prepared, and ready for anything. Plus we were psyched. When Good Machine got behind us, our confidence exploded."
Production commenced in October at an East Village bookstore. The day began smoothly, but then, when it was time to do the exterior, the crew was hit with a thunderstorm -- the production day went over schedule and much of the crew grappled with colds for the remainder of the shoot.
Nonetheless, Sticky was back on track by day three. Perhaps the biggest surprise was that it worked so well. "We were able to adapt and work through the little day-to-day disasters with our spirit intact" says Hilary. "The secret to our pulling it off was a well-rounded crew with a healthy balance of professionalism and personal passion for the project." At the heart of set was Cinematographer Ethan Mass, "Ethan was unstoppable, and undaunted. He refused to let the budget compromise his enthusiasm for the look of the movie; he just took it in as a parameter and worked with it."
The production often had the feel of a sprawling family picnic. Laura Stucin, a friend and gourmet natural chef, catered wholesome and plentiful meals. Isen Robbins' parents' home in Staten Island morphed into "Ofelia's house," and both Isen and Jean's apartments became holding areas, while a vacant apartment on the other side of Isen's building did triple duty. Starting as an office during pre-production and casting, the space was transformed into two entirely different sets: Drew's 90's East Village apartment, and Tucker's 50's Brooklyn apartment.
Production Designer Teresa Mastropierro found that while the stylistic difference between the 50's and the 90's might seem obvious, it in fact posed a particular challenge, especially on a limited budget. Hilary comments, "since it's trendy these days to furnish your apartment with 50's furniture, Teresa had to make Tucker's place read as 50's period rather than 50's style, and once that was pulled off, to give it a sense of individual depth and character beyond 'period.' " Mastropierro and her art department colleagues performed this alchemy by looting sympathetic friends' apartments and second-hand stores. Presented with a similar challenge was costume Designer Wendy Chuck, a native to Australia whose previous credits included working as assistant costume designer on Jane Campion's The Piano and Portrait of a Lady. Recently arrived in New York, Wendy fortunately had the energy to take on the very different challenge of Sticky.
As the shoot progressed, luck held out. The film wrapped on schedule and under budget. Attendance at the wrap party is usually a good barometer of a production, and nearly everyone showed up at Sticky's.
Hilary was able to begin working with veteran Editor Sabine Hoffman immediately after wrap, thanks to a generous 14-week AVID grant from the Sundance Institute, and the good graces of Good Edit (Ted Hope and Mark Tiedemann's post-production facility). Hilary and Sabine worked exhaustively, but not in isolation: "we screened for test audiences religiously each week," states Hilary. "I think a big chunk of the credit for editing this film must be shared by the dozens of viewers who gave us insight and pushed us to cut the thing, until at long last it worked."
While post-production was grueling, Hilary found it an extremely satisfying time. "I found cutting was akin to writing in its intimacy, but the elements had become refreshingly tangible, no longer confined to my mind's eye. Working with this new 'reality', we reinvented the film again and again, until we finally found it."
The scoring by New York composer and musician Miki Navazio was ambitious. The sheer quantity of original music was unusual for a film this size, and Miki scored much of it for string quartet. The compositions evolved in the final weeks of picture lock, and were then recorded in a marathon three-day session at Mercer Sound. "Miki had endless energy and enthusiasm. He was completely open to composing with the picture and not just to the picture. In the end we got a score that was not only emotionally effective but very intelligent and added a whole other level to the film."
Dig-It Audio sound designers Tom Efinger and Damian Volpe, whose credits include The Green Monster and The Delta, grappled with the sheer amount of cleanup necessary to compensate for the conditions of New York production. Nonetheless, they relished the challenge of designing plausible and distinct soundscapes for the two different time periods.
Sticky mixed at New York's Sound One for four days in late May. Hilary breathed a brief sigh of relief, then with Associate Producer/Post Supervisor Glen Basner, began the frequent visits to Du Art film labs that were to span the Summer of 1997 as the film made its transition to a 35mm blow-up, a process complicated by the integration of black and white, color, Super-8 and archival material. In the summation of the process Brougher says, "Nothing has been simple with Sticky, except our persistence, and it's paid off."
END CREDIT ROLL (complete)
(In Order of Appearance)
Tucker TERUMI MATTHEWS
Ofelia BELINDA BECKER
Isaac JAMES URBANIAK
Woman in Window AMANDA VOGEL
Drew NICOLE ZARAY
Dex LEO MARKS
Gorge SAMANTHA BUCK
Dental Clinic Receptionist FLORENCE MEYER
J.L. THOMAS PASLEY
Dental Assistant of Death JULIE ANDERSON
Cop JUSTIN X. McAVOY
Rachel the Bartender AMANDA COLE
"This Guy" in Bar TOM VAUGHT
Drew's Mother ALANA JERINS
Young Drew REBEKA MILKIS
Tucker's Cat LOLITA
Gorge's Dog DAYTON
Associate Producer GLEN BASNER
Production Manager RONI DEITZ
1st Assistant Director CALLUM GREENE
2nd Assistant Director BRIAN C. BENTHAM
Second 2nd Assistant Director ANGELA DELICHATSIOS
Script Supervisors RENÉE SILVERMANN &
Production Supervisor DEREK YIP
Production Office Coordinator FLORENCE POULAIN
Assistant Production Office Coordinator ADRIAN BROUGHER
Location Manager LAUREN KEANE
Assistant Location Manager ERIC KATZ
1st Assistant Camera DAN HERSEY
& SUZIE BAER
2nd Assistant Camera AMANDA COLE
Super-8 Camera HILARY BROUGHER
& AMANDA COLE
Still Photographers PHILIPPA DAWKINS
, ANDREW FREMONT-SMITH,
ISRAEL GATTENGO, BOB McKEOWN,
Sound Mixer RACHEL CONNOLLY
Boom Operator ADAM KOWALSKY
Gaffer BRIAN PRZYPEK
Best Boy Electric ALISON KELLY
3rd Electric BRIAN DENTZ
Key Grip GARY POTASHNIK
Best Boy RIAD DEEB
3rd Grip SEAN O'BRIEN
Additional Grips CASWELL COOKE
, DAVID ELWELL
, RADIUM CHUNG
Swing NICHOLAS McCARTHY
Grip/Electric PA FRANK HARDING
Art Directors DINA VARANO
, PAUL ETHEREDGE-OUZTS,
Set Decorator CHRISTINA MANCA
Leadman ROBERT WALSH
Property Master LISA MAREINISS
Assistant Property Master TIMOTHY WILSON
Scenic DIANA PUNTAR
Researchers TINA KHAYAT
TA MARI PACANOWSKI
Art Department Production Assistants JOSEPH SCANLAN
, ROSA SORBARA
, YAEL MELAMEDE
Art Department Intern DERRICK TSENG
Book Cover Illustration BRENT RICHARDSON
Special Effects Artists KEITH ED MIER
, KELLY GLEASON
Wardrobe Supervisors CORINNE LEVEQUE,
Wardrobe Intern CAREN CASTLEMAN
Catering LAURA STUCIN
Assistant to Producers YURGI GANTER
Key Production Assistant CHARLES McNALLY
Craft Service AMY JELENKO
Set Production Assistants CHRISTIAN MONTALBAN, O
Office Production Assistants ANTOINETTE CARONE,
, ANITA TARNAI,
Casting Assistants to the Director MICHELE O'BRIEN, CECILE GOGOL
Cat Wrangler JEAN-CHRISTOPHE CASTELLI
Dog Wrangler ZEAV ROBBINS
POST - PRODUCTION
Post Production Supervisor GLEN BASNER
Supervising Sound Editor TOM EFINGER
First Assistant Picture Editor TIM STREETO
Assistant Avid Editors JERRAN FRIEDMAN
, MARA GROSS,
Re-Recording Engineer ROBERT FERNANDEZ
Sound Editors DAMIAN VOLPE,
Titles by DU ART DIGITAL
Super 8 Blow Up CYNOSURE
Negative Cutter J.G. FILMS
Color Timer DAVID PULTZ
Production Banking CHASE MANHATTAN BANK
Legal Counsel DANIEL ROBBINS, ESQ.
BODINE & HERZOG
SUSAN BODINE, ANDREA CANNISTRACI
Payroll AXIUM ENTERTAINMENT SERVICES
Production Insurance DISC INSURANCE
Additional Post Production Accountant MATT DEMIER
Camera Provided by ABEL CINE TECH
Grip & Lighting Equipment PERFORMANCE LIGHTS
Post Production Picture Services GOOD EDIT
Audio Post Facility DIG-IT AUDIO
Re-Recording by SOUND ONE CORPORATION
Music Recording Engineer ALEX NOYES
Music recorded and mixed at MERCER STREET SOUND
Violin RAIMUNDO PENAFORTE
, CADY FINLAYSON
Viola JULIE GOODALE
, Cello TOMAS ULRICH
Clarinet DAVID BINDMAN
Guitar MIKI NAVAZIO
Percussion JEFF BERMAN
Additional Vocals RACHEL ULANET
Written by MIKE EHRHARDT
Performed by SNOWMEN
Published by MEX ELLEN MUSIC (BMI)
Courtesy of DOUBLE PLAY RECORDS
Written by MARY O'NEIL
Performed by VIRGINIA DARE
Published by BUNNY PLUG MUSIC (BMI)
MOUNTAIN OF HADITH
Written by S.H. FERNANDO, JR.
Performed by SCARAB
Published by I-POWA MUSIC (BMI)
Courtesy of WORDSOUND RECORDINGS
Written by BILL McGARVEY
Performed by VALENTINE SMITH
Published by BILLY LIAR MUSIC (BMI)
Courtesy of ANOTHER ROUND RECORDS
CEREMONY OF THANKS
Written by S.H. FERNANDO, JR.
Performed by SCARAB
Published by I-POWA MUSIC (BMI)
Courtesy of WORDSOUND
Written and Performed by JESSICA MASS
Published by NICE PLOTTE MUSIC
SHAKE YOUR BODY (DOMINATOR DUB)
Written and Performed by THE BEAT DOMINATOR
Published by WHOOPING CRANE MUSIC (BMI)
Courtesy of PAN DISC RECORDS
Written and Performed by BARDO POND
Published by CAPILLARY/DOORMAT MUSIC (BMI)
Courtesy of MATADOR RECORDS
YOU MADE ME LOVE YOU
Written by JOSEPH McCARTHY,
JAMES V. MONACO
Performed by HARRY JAMES AND HIS MUSIC MAKERS
Courtesy of DRIVE ENTERTAINMENT, INC.
SIXTY SECONDS GOT TOGETHER
Written by MACK DAVID,
Performed by THE MILLS BROTHERS
Published by POLYGRAM INTERNATIONAL PUBLISHING INC. (ASCAP)
HALLMARK MUSIC (ASCAP)
Courtesy of MCA RECORDS
By arrangement with UNIVERSAL MUSIC SPECIAL MARKETS
Written by GARY SWAGGERTY, JR.
Performed by N.I.L. 8
Published by NINE IRON MUSIC (ASCAP)
Courtesy of FUSE RECORDS
JOE'S AUTO LUBE COMMERCIAL
Written by MICHAEL PEDRICK
Produced and Voiced by MIKE SAUTER
BROOKLYN BREWERY BEER
THE EAST VILLAGE BOOKSTORE
THE GOOD PEOPLE OF 85 DEVOE STREET
GREENPOINT DENTAL CLINIC
HUNTER-DOUGLASS WINDOW FASHIONS
KHIELS SINCE 1851
LOLITA’S FRIENDS AT ST. MARKS VETERINARY HOSPITAL
THE NEIGHBORS AT 235 EAST 11TH STREET
NEIL EVAN OPTICIANS
ORLANDO FUNERAL HOME
SNYDERS POTATO CHIPS
BEDDING PROVIDED BY Z. SCHWEITZER LINENS
Also, Special Thanks to:
LOISE HARPMAN AND SCOTT SPECHT
DR. MICHAEL LANG
DAWN SAUCIER MILLER
LAURA & MAYA PETRILLO
AND MORE SPECIAL THANKS TO:
FREDA WASSERSTIEN ROBBINS
EXTRA SPECIAL THANKS
TED HOPE AND JAMES SCHAMUS
GOOD MACHINE, INC.
THE EVENTS, CHARACTERS, AND ENTITIES DEPICTED IN THIS PHOTOPLAY ARE FICTITIOUS. ANY SIMILARITY TO ACTUAL PERSONS, LIVING OR DEAD, OR TO ACTUAL EVENTS OR ENTITIES IS PURELY COINCIDENTAL. OWNERSHIP OF THIS MOTION PICTURE IS PROTECTED BY COPYRIGHT AND OTHER APPLICABLE LAWS, AND ANY UNAUTHORIZED DUPLICATION, DISTRIBUTION OR EXHIBITION OF THIS MOTION PICTURE COULD RESULT IN CRIMINAL PROSECUTION AS WELL AS CIVIL LIABILITY.
COPYRIGHT 1997 FINGERS OF TIME LLCTIME, INC.