Cold…

I knew that it was going to be cold… in fact, be very cold… well it was.

IANASK and Max’s dad has to die tonight.

Messily

It’s so cold that the sfx blood is freezing in the container, before we can smear.

Mr Lloyd’s hands aren’t shining with black GOO, they’re greyish… that’s because all the water in the mix has frozen.

The requested steam from the ripped entrails isn’t rising… as soon as the hot water hits the snow in line of camera, it turns to ice.

My hands… which are applying the GOO, have lost feeling and have grown icicles… it doesn’t hurt anymore, which is worrying.

I tried to make it better, but the inner liners on Mr Lloyds gloves are now saturated and his eyes tell me, as I apply more GOO for take umpteen, that there’s pain. He does not ask that we stop, so that he can warm up, he carries on, in full Crowley – roaring animalistically, protecting his kill. The viscera (with no steam) are pulled as bloodied extrusions from the corpse.

Got it.

Now only the closeup shots remain… Mr Lloyd is wrapped and I get into costume, so that Robbie can range with his camera and catch glimpses of claw ripping colon.