One of our key goals when we first organized and began this project was to do what we could to go beyond the non-extractive nature of filmmaking and bring value to local communities. From the beginning, we committed to return a portion of whatever net revenue we acquire to those communities. This year, we unanimously decided also to designate the ALS Association as our company charity and to commit twenty percent of any net revenue to their ongoing work. Please join us in whatever way you can on this Giving Day.

Along with the serious support we’ve had from the folks in Tillamook, we never want to lose sight of the major encouragement we’ve gotten from another genuine coastal newspaper, the News Guard in Lincoln City.

In fact, there’s not enough space to list the people in Lincoln City who have been behind this project from day one. If we hadn’t already known that Lincoln City is the one hub, the essence of the Oregon coast, that would’ve decided us. More shout outs to come. Watch this space.

http://www.tillamookheadlightherald.com/

A coastal weekly newspaper stands at the center of our project, but these papers are more than a dramatic device for us. All of us believe passionately in their vital role for their local communities and for journalism in general.
A while ago, someone said that putting a coastal weekly as the pivot of this project and, hopefully, the resulting series was a bad idea. “Isn’t that outdated?” the person asked. “Are any of them even left?” One of the points of Coastal Disturbances is to answer no and yes, in that order. And we think it’s a good thing that they’re still around. Their tenacity is one of the remaining antidotes to cheap, biased, blog-fed snark and misinformation that passes itself off for news. Often, they slug it out against increasing financial pressures and diminishing returns, to keep local voices, regional cultures, and communities vibrant and distinctive.
We’re all better off because they do.

Shortly after we got underway with our “locations needed” checklist, It struck us that we were near a recent Facebook “like.” Normally, we don’t make housecalls, of course, but this seemed as though it just shouted for a personal hello. For a start, our story is set in the now-fictional town of Nelscott, so the Nelscott Wine Shop is a natural draw. The original Nelscott Mercantile building dates from 1927, though the current occupants have been there for just over 4 years, keeping the spirit of Nelscott alive and well. The owner, Karen Richards, features Oregon products, too, so it’s not your ordinary wine shop. Oregon wineries are home-grown, hands-on artisan craft producers; they’re local and sustainable, like the shop.

From there, we met Katera Woodbridge from Lincoln City’s Visitor and Convention Bureau, who led us on an amazing tour. It was accompanied throughout by the sort of pleasant conversation that’s unexpected on what essentially was a business visit. That’s been the case consistently here; actually getting to know and talk with people rather than “networking.” Still, Katera was a standout.

In fact, our tour with Katera went so well that we had time to run by and discover a relatively new Lincoln City attraction; well, a new old attraction; historic attraction. Okay, landmark; that works. It’s amazing, whatever the label. The Eventuary has assumed a range of identities since its origin around 1917 as an early settler’s cabin, but this most recent transformation is the topper. It hosted events during the past year’s metamorphosis, but now it’s ready for prime time as probably the area’s newest event space. It’s a venue that has to be seen to be appreciated fully. The new sign was going up as we drove into the parking lot, it’s that new. It’s easy to find, too, at the corner (point, really) of Fleet Avenue and Oregon Coast Highway. The building has been a key location throughout the town’s history, and the remodel hasn’t lost track of that sense of the past. At once welcoming, comfortable, and exciting, it’s a place that has to be experienced in person, but the still on the right offers some sense of the space. We didn’t want to leave. Well, we didn’t want to leave before that, but this made it more difficult. It’s the brainchild of Kip Ward, incidentally, and operated by Karen Richards (see Nelscott Wine Shop, above . . .), which suggests a very well-run operation, indeed. Check the website, and visit the Facebook page. Oh; this isn’t a paid announcement, either: it’s just another local feature we can’t ignore.

The previous entry gives some notion of how the day began. Can’t beat it. But it kept getting better. The plan was to check for locations, attend a rather important meeting with some local officials, get some usable stills, meet with a local artisan, and then sort what we’d learned. In other words, we’d set ourselves with another two-day mad scramble and were just asking for a disaster.

Didn’t happen.

Unlike last trip, we decided to explore for sites on our own and miss the fun and companionship of Kip’s Anchor Cab. That also meant that we had only our map and intuition to guide us, lacking his area knowledge and familiarity.

By the end of the day, we’d met an incredibly talented fabric artist and garment artisan (the only way to describe her work) named Tash Wesp. Typical of the folks who live and produce their art on this left edge of the continent, her clothing stands as unique single expressions, yet they still seem part of the context, somehow, grown from the woods that surround her studio home and the sea that washes in its own inspiration, just down the hill.

Oh, and there was Daisy, an artist in her own right. And like all artists, she chooses her own way. If you’re fortunate, it will cross yours; if you’re very fortunate, it will run alongside. Don’t try to keep up.

Back on the road, we next found a shooting location that was more than we could’ve expected. Like a couple of earlier ones, it nearly exactly fit the concept developed in the script. It was like someone had tapped into the writer’s head, however revolting that thought may be. This one went way beyond, though. It gave us a shot background with a 30-mile coastal view from more than 300 feet above the shore. Green screen that one, you hobbit people.

With one of us mildly scattered from a departing virus and both of us a bit spacey at the amazement of coming across the site so unexpectedly, we wound up the day by cruising the Nye Beach neighborhood. Lo and whatever, we hit the ideal spot to relax: Nana’s Irish Pub. Nothin’ like a good meal and a Guinness while you’re sorting out the day’s finds. And it was a great day for finds, indeed. None of this is paid, by the way; some stuff is just so great you have to talk about it.

Oh, and a peaceful stroll through the fog back to the car turned up a couple more location potentials. I think the word is serendipity.

We thought the rooms at the Anchor Inn were amazing, then we came down to this. This isn’t a paid announcement, by the way. Sometimes ya just gotta tell it like ya sees it.

That was just the start of another great day of what should’ve been location drudgery, but wasn’t anything like that. The coastal community remains as great as we remembered, and it’s making pre-production much easier and a whole lot more fun than usual.

More to come.