Behind the Lens: How We Shot a Feature Film in 5½ Days

What shooting Mr. Advocate taught me about preparation, flexibility, and trusting your team.

Recently, Mr. Advocate premiered in Richmond, California, and I had the opportunity to talk with Contra Costa Pulse about my experience working as the Director of Photography on the film.

Seeing the finished film in front of an audience made me think about everything that went into making it—especially the fact that we shot an entire feature film in roughly five and a half days.

That's not a lot of time.

When you're working that quickly, there isn't always time to make every shot perfect. Sometimes filmmaking becomes less about getting the coolest shot and more about answering one important question:

Do we have what we need to tell the story?

And Mr. Advocate taught me a lot about doing exactly that.

It Started With One Scene

My involvement with Mr. Advocate actually started much smaller.

Director Stacie McClam originally put out feelers looking for a Director of Photography for a short film she wanted to make. The project was essentially one scene—a test of an idea she had.

I threw my name in the hat.

She called me, we made the short, and that small project ended up becoming the beginning of a much larger creative relationship.

Stacie took that momentum and ran with it. She went on to develop and shoot three feature films. One is currently going through the distribution process, another is approaching picture lock, and the third is waiting to enter post-production.

That's an incredible feat.

It's also a reminder of something I've learned throughout my career: you never really know where one project is going to lead.

What starts as one scene can become a feature film. One introduction can turn into years of collaboration.

Sometimes you just have to put your name in the hat.

Five and a Half Days

When we moved from the short to the feature, everything became bigger.

Bigger story.

Bigger crew.

More scenes.

More pressure.

And I was working with a lot of people I had never worked with before.

On smaller productions, you often know everybody and understand how they operate. On this project, we had to build that chemistry while simultaneously trying to make a feature film on an extremely compressed schedule.

That first day was nerve-racking.

Everybody knew what we were trying to accomplish and how little time we had to accomplish it.

But somewhere around the second day, something shifted.

People started understanding each other's rhythms. Communication became easier. The crew started clicking.

It stopped feeling like a group of people who had been assembled for a movie and started feeling like a team making one.

Some of those people feel like friends to me now.

Sometimes You Just Have to Get the Scene

One of the realities of shooting a feature in five and a half days is that creativity sometimes has to take a back seat to coverage.

As a cinematographer, that's difficult.

I always want to find the interesting frame. I want to shape the light. I want to experiment with an angle and ask, What if we put the camera over here?

But filmmaking also requires knowing when you don't have that luxury.

There were moments on Mr. Advocate where I simply had to put the camera where it needed to be and press record.

We needed the scene.

We needed the performances.

We needed enough coverage for the edit.

And we needed to move on.

That's part of the craft too.

Keeping the Lighting Simple

Because we were moving so quickly, our lighting approach had to be repeatable.

For many of our interior scenes, we established a large key light coming through the window and supplemented it with fill inside the room. Once we created that look, we could work around the space without completely reinventing the lighting for every angle.

It wasn't about creating an elaborate lighting setup for every shot.

It was about creating a look that supported the story and that we could maintain throughout the day.

And sometimes there wasn't enough time to light at all.

Those are the moments when experience becomes incredibly valuable.

You look at what's available.

You find your frame.

You make the best decision you can.

And you shoot.

Behind the Shot: The Refrigerator

One of my favorite shots in Mr. Advocate happens near the beginning of the film.

The camera is inside a refrigerator.

Interestingly, this wasn't the first time I'd tried something like this. I originally experimented with a refrigerator shot years ago while making one of my first short films, Hella Vegan. It was one of those early creative ideas that stayed in the back of my mind.

Years later, Mr. Advocate gave me an opportunity to revisit it.

But getting the shot wasn't as simple as putting a camera inside a refrigerator.

First, we had to physically position the camera inside and find the right angle.

Then the actor opening the refrigerator had to land in exactly the right position.

His eyes needed to shift at a specific moment.

At the same time, another actor was moving into position behind him.

As that happened, we needed to rack focus from the actor in the foreground to the actor in the background.

Camera placement.

Blocking.

Performance.

Eye movement.

Focus.

Timing.

Everything had to happen together.

And when it finally did, the shot worked.

What makes that moment especially meaningful to me is where it happens in the movie. It's one of the first scenes of the film.

In a way, opening that refrigerator door is also opening the door into the story.

And behind the camera, that shot felt like one of the first moments where our crew really started finding its rhythm.

We had to communicate. We had to trust each other. Everybody had to hit their mark.

Once we got it, there was this feeling of:

Okay. We can do this.

Preparation Creates Freedom

If a young cinematographer asked me what I learned from shooting Mr. Advocate, my biggest piece of advice would be simple:

Prepare.

Preparation isn't just creating a shot list.

It's studying your craft so that when something unexpected happens, you have an answer.

It's talking with your director early enough to understand what they're trying to create.

It's knowing what equipment you're going to have.

It's communicating with your grip and electric team.

It's building a relationship with your AC.

It's understanding the locations.

It's knowing the story.

Because things are going to change.

Especially on an independent film.

A scene will take longer than expected.

A location won't work the way you imagined.

You'll lose a shot.

You'll lose time.

Suddenly, the beautiful setup you planned has to become something you can accomplish in fifteen minutes.

That's when preparation pays off.

You prepare so that you can be flexible.

The goal isn't to create a plan that never changes.

The goal is to understand the project well enough that when the plan inevitably changes, you can change with it.

I Don't Beat Myself Up Over the Shots We Didn't Get

Looking back at Mr. Advocate, of course there are things I would have loved to do differently.

Give me another hour and I'll probably find another angle.

Give me more lighting time and I'll probably move a light.

Give me another day and I'll find more coverage.

That's cinematography.

You can always find another way to shoot something.

But I'm also not interested in beating myself up over the shots we didn't get.

There were too many things outside of my control, and we were trying to accomplish something incredibly ambitious in a very short period of time.

Our job was to tell the story.

And we did.

Sometimes being a good cinematographer isn't about creating the most beautiful frame you've ever made.

Sometimes it's about understanding what the production needs from you at that exact moment and delivering it.

One Last Take

When I think back on Mr. Advocate, I don't just think about the cameras, lights, or individual shots.

I think about the people.

I think about walking onto a larger production surrounded by people I hadn't worked with before and watching us slowly become a team.

I think about putting a camera inside a refrigerator and coordinating all those little moving pieces until suddenly everything worked.

And I think about how a project that started with one scene grew into something much bigger.

That's filmmaking.

Prepare as much as you possibly can.

Know your craft.

Know your team.

Have a plan.

And then be prepared to throw part of that plan away.

Because when the pressure is on and everything starts moving faster than you expected, preparation gives you the confidence to adapt.

And sometimes, that's where the movie magic happens.