When I arrive at the production office this afternoon it is suspiciously quiet and laid back. This is a bad sign. In my experience, if pre-production is too smooth and uneventful, the actual shoot could be a nightmare – or at least more of a nightmare than usual. Francois has arrived, looking as internationally iconic as ever, and so has our co-producer Arno Rocca, a French fashion designer/merchandiser who lives in Jakarta and whom I first encountered on Facebook. I met him in LA a couple of months ago with Francois when we first started brainstorming the project. Arno is taking care of the fashion aspects of the film, including some donations from designer Bernhard Wilhelm and fetish company Slick It Up, both for whom Francois sometimes models. He has also invited a Japanese bondage master to participate in the proceedings, so I guess I’ll have to figure out how to fit that in somewhere. I mean, how could I refuse? Laszlo and I hop in our snazzy rented truck to check out the remaining locations with our other intrepid co-producer, Robert Felt, head of the New York based porn company Dark Alley, whom I met there last week. He’s younger and cuter than I expected, and he’s very calm.

Speaking of calm, I’m still worried that there isn’t more commotion in the office. I’m waiting for the first catastrophe to hit, but it’s really taking its time. Finally, in the middle of the afternoon, it hits. Not one but two of the main locations may have fallen through, I am informed, one of them scheduled to be shot tomorrow. That’s what I’m talking about! I knew Murphy’s Law wouldn’t disappoint me. Apparently we have been informed at the eleventh hour that the LA River, where we have a permit to shoot, is owned in its entirety now by the Army Corps of Engineers, and you have to pay them a minimum of 2500 dollars for a permit plus have one of their members supervise the shoot for another fee. (As this is meant to be a full-on sex scene that might be a little embarrassing.). As for Angeles Crest, we are also informed at the last minute that we need a 10,000 gallon water truck standing by for the shoot in case there is a fire, even though we plan on using no pyrotechnics, or even smoking a joint. Perhaps I should have been a little more circumspect in my choice of exotic locations. But then how would I ever be able to experience the terror of the Terry Gilliam curse? Anyway, by the end of the day Jeremy and Robert both work out solutions and alternatives, so apparently the train hasn’t been derailed quite yet. But I have a feeling we’re not out of the woods yet, Talluh. We’ve already had to compress two nights shooting into one at Angeles Crest to cut costs, and although we have a great alternative location to the LA River, it’s dodgy.

In the midst of the chaos, Arno did manage to acquire a real wetsuit for Francois to wear as opposed to the fetish body suit that merely suggested a wetsuit. We’re keeping it really and fashion forward here on
LA Zombie!

I arrive in LA for the LA Zombie shoot on Monday after a week in sweaty, humid, stinky New York City. I thought I’d swing down through the Big Rotten Apple on my way to the City of Angels as it would be my only opportunity to visit my Gotham friends all year long. I stay with my dear friends Slava Mogutin and his sweet boyfriend Brian Kenny, who together comprise the art duo SUPERM. We go to a great party called Macho Mondays at bar Nowhere on 14th street where Blatino hustlers from all boroughs congregate to give Manhattan men a little whiff of the old raunchy midtown days of yore. I also go to see the legendary Grace Jones at the Hammerstein Ballroom, an epic show that I will not soon forget.

After a breezy, temperate two months in Toronto writing a new script, the weather is so dreadful in New York that even after a short walk you are drenched to the skin in sweat. It feels like you are swimming in a thick viral soup. Thankfully the weather in LA in August is much more civilized: hot and dry during the day and almost cool in the evening. I’m staying at the cute Silver Lake apartment of my dear longtime LA friend Billy, who has been in London the last three months working as an editor on the new Ridley Scott film Sherwood or Sherlock or whatever its called. Nottingham? Anyway, I’m proud of Billy, as he started (as Emily) as a 17 year old dyke production assistant on Hustler White fourteen years ago. He’s come a long way, baby. As much as I adore Billy it’s nice to have his apartment to myself as an escape from all the hustle and bustle of the film production office down on Wilshire Boulevard where the porn stars are being billeted. I will need time by myself to clear my head for all the chaos that will no doubt ensue on a typical Bruce LaBruce set, which is usually something like a cross between the trials of Job and David Cronenburg’s “Shivers”.

Today is dedicated to scoping out the locations that have already been scouted for the movie. Our dedicated production manager, Jeremy B. Warner, has been essaying pre-production virtually by himself over the last couple of months in LA, securing housing, locations, and permits and securing a rag-tag crew willing to work on a micro-budget film for very little compensation save for bragging rights about having survived a Bruce LaBruce shoot. Things have changed considerably in LA since the last time I shot here in 1995. On Hustler White, a guerilla-style film if there ever was one, we were able to get away with shooting entirely without permits on Santa Monica Boulevard and at various other central locations, a feat that would be virtually impossible in the current clamped down and controlled LA where it is said that people shooting even in private interiors have been busted for not having the proper paperwork. How we ever shot that film on 16mm for a grand total of 50K – including post! – remains a mystery to me to this day, and gives me a little bit of confidence that I can pull the same thing off again now in the digital age – but not that much confidence, actually, to tell you the truth.

LA Zombie is a whole different beast. It’s a summer project, something I wanted to do partly to keep in practice shooting, and partly as a good excuse to work with Francois Sagat, the supersexy porn superstar du moment. I almost cast him for a fashion story I did for Tetu magazine four or five years ago when he was represented by Citibeur, a porn company with a stable of Arab models, but I decided not to at the last minute because I didn’t think his signature head tattoo was right for the concept. (It was a gay tribute to Godard’s Breathless, using the same locations in Paris where the movie was shot. Francois would have been cast in the Jean Seberg role, obviously.) I’ve been kicking myself for not casting him ever since, particularly as he has become an international icon. Lightning rarely strikes twice in the same place, so when a second opportunity arises, you should always grab on to it. Even though we have an extremely modest budget (tiny for an indie film, that is, albeit huge for a porno), I figured I better go for the gusto.

Actually, if you want to know the truth, I had originally intended to make it a cheap art project for a solo show I had a couple of months ago at my gallery Peres Projects in Culver City. The idea was to make artifacts from a hardcore alien zombie splatter porn movie – production stills, props, screen tests, etc. – entitled LA Zombie starring Francois Sagat, and make it seem like it all came from an actual movie which never really existed or ever would exist. But somehow when I wasn’t looking the concept turned into reality, the budget started burgeoning, and really big porn stars started to become attached to the project: Francesco D’Macho, Matthew Rush, Erik Rhodes, Wolf Hudson… Suddenly, this summer, I was embroiled in an epic porn shoot. Oh well, I usually spend August twiddling my thumbs anyway.

So today my lanky assistant Jason North – a stellar name – and my long-suffering director of photography since Hustler White – whose name apparently I can’t reveal anymore because he informs me that if he puts it on my films he can’t get work for a year afterwards! (but you can look him up on IMDB) – I’ll call him Laszlo Kovaks – intrepidly venture forth to look at the assigned locations. First, though, we have to make a trip to the Valley – in Jason’s unairconditioned Datsun (“it has nature’s airconditioning,” he says as he rolls down his window) to visit our mad genius special effects guru, Joe Castro. Now Joe is worthy of an entire chapter, if not a novella, in and of himself, but suffice to say that he’s the other factor, besides Francois, that inspired me to essay an alien zombie splatter movie in the first place, having worked with, as he has, such horror legends as Herschell Gordon Lewis. Joe shows us his works in progress – canine teeth molded to fit Francois’ mouth, a scary alien cock made from a mold of Francois’ cock, custom contact lenses, a human torso and heart – and he assures us that everything is under control, which I don’t believe for a second. But I do have faith that it will be when we get on set, because I’ve seen him whip up a creature’s grotesque hand in two seconds flat using the kind of legerdemain usually only possessed by magicians.

Jason and Laszlo and I then head for our first location look-see, which happens to be a twenty-five mile drive up into the mountains to a remote place called Angeles Crest which is actually supposed to be a gay cruising spot! It’s hard to believe that gays would actually drive this far up into the middle of nowhere just to cruise, but you know how they are. After an endless drive we choose a location and then head back to uncivilization. The Valley and the mountain behind us, we visit a nice graveyard in Pasadena, which is kind of oxymoronic, and after a nice Indian meal, drive to our final location of the day, a really cool industrial area under a huge overpass downtown. Exhausted, we head home, our heads full of establishing shots and POVs.

How hot is this!? Giovanni Rocco and Falcon hunk Matthew Rush have been cast for the new zombie horror porn flick from Bruce LaBruce, starring Francois Sagat.
Shoot (if you will, lol) takes place next month in Los Angeles. Still untitled, the film is to be released by Dark Alley Media.
Rocco said after reading the script, he’s especially looking forward to the scene where his chest has been ripped open and Sagat f*cks his heart.
A good time for all – can’t wait!