An hour and twenty minutes to go. Either we get the equipment released, or we don't -- it's as simple as that. And if we don't, I have no idea what we're going to do.
80 minutes until we meet our Film Lecturer; my conscious brain is saying don't panic, there's no way he's going to fail you on the course, to rob six people of a chance of a BA for want of an e-mail is overkill.
My hindbrain is screaming eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeek!
I'm not sure which one is winning at the moment. Every few minutes I check my in-box for the missing e-mail; my mouth is dry and I'm likely to fly into a rage with the washing machine or any other inanimate object that baulks me.
The problem is that as producer, it's my role to arrange permissions for our unit over the weekend. So we had to obtain agreement from the Student's Union Bar (which included filling in a risk assessment form), the pub where we'll be filming, the campus authorities and Bath Spa Council. In the case of the latter, they can literally stop a unit filming in the street (it happened to Al Pacino in New York on one occasion).
Because film companies must get written permission to film on both private and public property to cover them against potential legal action, it's mandated for the course as well. So it's understandable that it's a requirement, or the course wouldn't reflect industry practice.
The major problem is one that I didn't even realize was a problem until this morning. The pub, The Raven, has given us verbal permission, but they haven't confirmed it. So, how late are they going to leave it? And what are our chances of walking away with the kit?
It's now T minus 65 and counting down...
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