Given my disapproval of the all-too-common practice of putting enchantresses in childrens’ movies, I wanted a more or less logical and non-magical way for Gwenanda to do the things she does. A key element of this was the Rain Maker 2007. (Yes, the movie wasn’t released until 2008. What can I say? Even Gwenanda could use a software update.)

To create the Rain Maker I started with a series of sketches. We wanted something that looked complicated, but also allowed for travel to and from the filming sites.

 (The most hair-raising of which was stuffing the Rain Maker in the trunk of a van, driving to the park, and then hauling it out into the middle of a field.) The base is just two wrapping paper tubes and some large cardboard boxes. Once that was in place I stuck on whatever odds and ends we had laying around. Pieces of old pens, telephone wire, beads, a keypad from a really early movie, Dixie-cup dials, paper towel tubes, and an old circuit board. I think there was even part of an old bell and one of those plastic rods you use to turn the window blinds.

Then, of course, we had to put the gag items on it. One of which is a keypad with Roman Numerals instead of numbers. Another is a dial that ranges from “Light Mist” to “Typhoon”.

Our special effects department then added a little (logically explained and non-magical) movie magic to bring the machine to life. Hey Presto! Fonsugar’s Bane.

Have you ever been bored and brilliant in the space of a minute? You’re sitting there, minding your own business, and suddenly lightning strikes. A large part of the iSundae II script came about in that way. The whole concept of Fonsuger being after something, and what that something was came out of a bored doodle during a movie discussion. And Reyshar’s hat.

I stopped and looked down at the paper. Now, that prop looked cool. How could we fit it into the movie? And the piece on top . . . where have I seen that shape before? “Hey,” I said, “What if the thing Fonsuger is after has something to do with the first movie? Relating back to why Reyshar wore that weird helmet thing.” The idea took fire and we soon found ourselves with a slidey-puzzle box that contained something that could make you immune to being utterly vaporized. Granted, the “relating back to Reyshar” part changed a bit in the finished movie. We didn’t explain that what was in the box was kept in the point on Reyshar’s helmet, but the general idea mushroomed out of that.

With the storyline in place, I was assigned the task of coming up the visual side of the prop. What would a medieval slidey-puzzle box look like? So many possibilities! Thankfully, on the original doodle page, along with a snail wearing sunglasses, was a pretty good concept sketch of what the box would look like. Tall, thin, pointy top a la Reyshar’s helmet. The concept for what was inside the box was there too, but I’m not going to give that away.

The next task was to find a giant slidey-puzzle to stick on the front. Big slidey puzzles are hard to come by! We finally found a four pack of small ones in the party favors section of Party City. I took them home and disassembled them, then reassembled them into a bigger puzzle.

The Secret Item itself is, of course, cardboard. I also used a plastic spring, a pebble, and one of the empty slidey-puzzle backs. Pebbles make great push buttons if you use the right shape.

I put the whole thing together and gave it a few coats of paint, during which I also managed to effectively adhere the puzzle pieces to each other. We solved that problem with a razor blade and some patience.

It was time to film! We mixed the puzzle pieces up and set to work. As the movie progresses, and Fonsuger gets closer and closer to solving the puzzle, we had to show the puzzle slowly coming together. Why we didn’t think to film it backwards is beyond me. Trying to solve a 40+ piece slidey-puzzle so we can film the next scene is so tedious! Finally, we cheated. I took the entire puzzle out of its holder and put it back in correctly. It took time, and we had a couple close shaves with losing pieces, but it worked.

And then another problem rose up and made us kick ourselves. Due to some special effects that had to be added later, and the lack of any sort of marks on the Secret Item, motion tracking became a pain. Dark paint, dark room, how are we supposed to know which way the item is moving? Thankfully, our wonderful special effects guys made it work. And Fonsuger came one step closer to the discovery…

If you haven’t guessed by now, that was a conversation I had with myself during the pre-production of iSundae II. The director won. The propmaker was sentenced to a week in the craftroom, or until the double doors were done, whichever came first. I had already made a much smaller door for a different part of the movie, so I couldn’t plead inability. I fired up Boomer, my hot glue gun, and started cutting. And cutting and cutting. And gluing. And cutting some more.

I got empty fabric bolts for free from the JoAnn Etc. in our area and used them for the exterior of the doors. I glued them together in a large sheet, then added rings of thinner cardboard to support the shape, since it had to be a thick door. Whoever heard of a throne room door a half of an inch thick?

The back and edges were attached to that, and it was time for the decorative stuff. Cardboard slivers, corrugated edge up, became fancy trim. Cardboard triangles added to the effect, and a cardboard handle finished it off.

I spray painted it brown, which was a mistake because I let the paint spatter and it ruined the wood grain effect. Then some copper accents and you have it. The director was happy, the propmaker was tired, and the double doors looked good.

How did the doors hold up in the movie? Here’s a video of three different entrances, each showing a different way we can use the doors.

Tip Number One:

When building a heavy duty prop, start with something you already have and build onto/around/under/through/over it.
For example, we needed a throne with a very distinct look, and I didn’t want to use only cardboard because of safety problems. Trust me, you don’t want the actor falling through the prop in the middle of the first take! Our solution? A folding chair. I simply surrounded it with cardboard to change its shape, and voila! A safe, nice-looking Cone Throne.

Tip Number Two:

Get rid of pesky outlets and light switches by covering them.
This was a major problem for us, since we were filming a medieval movie. So we created squares of posterboard or paper with a little design on them and stuck the squares onto whatever we couldn’t hide behind props. You could use blank paper the color of the walls, sci-fi-looking wall units, fake plants, or whatever you want. Just be careful about sticking tape on wall paint, and watch out for falling camouflage. Every so often they’d let go and sail off in the middle of a shot.
Also, while this works well for wider shots, it might be obvious in a close-up.

Tip Number Three:

Work around irremovable parts of the room by disguising them.
This is a biggie. We couldn’t remove a modern-looking bannister from a stairway we were filming on, nor could we tear the fireplace out of the living room. Solution? Cardboard, of course! A little cutting, painting, hot glueing, and, hey presto! A medieval-looking fireplace and bannister. Another way to duck those annoying elements is to try not to show them, although this is sometimes impossible.

Windows! Windows can be awful. The wonderful, modern-looking, white bars criss-crossing the glass. Cardboard to the rescue once more. You see how you can work around these things? Of course, the blinds are a whole ‘nother story.
If your window has an air-conditioning unit in it, check the safety precautions before you try to cover it.

Tip Number Four:

Use things around the house to create “atmosphere.”
We had all the things for this set laying around the house. We just made it look nice and neat. Just keep in mind what time period you’re working with. Don’t put an alarm clock beside a medieval bed (unless it’s part of a joke).

If you want to do this on a much grander scale, check this set out. Only the two white walls existed there. We created two more walls out of bookcases, then filled them with things from around the house, along with a few props I made specifically for it. Now, granted, I did throw in a few joke items. But you see how you can create whole rooms with things from around the house?
It might not be time-saving (it took us all morning to get that set ready), but it’s inexpensive and the results are great.

Theory number one:

It’s the fun of seeing our friends when we get together.

Well, that could be it. But that can’t be the only reason. I’m sure if we wanted to we could come up with some less hectic way for us to have fun. Bingo, perhaps. Or watching a movie. Sitting around, staring at each other wondering what to do is a luxury I’m sure we’ve longed for when we have seven or eight people involved in a “spirited discussion” over how to film a scene. A bit tiring, to say the least. Aggravating, to say the most. No, it can’t be an innate craving for each other’s company that drives this madness.

Theory number two:

It’s because they want some source of creative output.

There are a lot of other, safer, healthier ways to enjoy creativity than hanging out of a second floor window to clean a smear off of the glass so it’ll look nice for the filming shoot. There are easier, less-frustrating ways to amaze yourself than witnessing first-hand how a strong wind and large cardboard walls do not get along. Burning oneself with hot glue for the sake of a fake door, cutting one’s finger for a bottle that matches Malfhok’s hat, hitting one’s sister on the head with a falling prop, straining one’s arms holding up a blanket background. . . all these things seem a little hard. Why not try water-coloring? Why not make something out of play clay? This theory seems a bit strained. (Like my back after hauling a dozen wall units up two flights of stairs.)

Theory number three:

It’s because they want the praise at the end.

Here at last we’re getting to the core issue. Of course! We knock ourselves out for a month so people will look at the finished project and say “Oooh, ahhh, the boom shows in that shot.” (I’m kidding.) Who doesn’t like praise? But if we do this JUST for the praise at the end, we’re pretty fanatical about it. It took more than the hope of praise at the end to get us through all of that. This theory is practical, but not the end-all answer.

Theory number four:

It’s because they’re computer nuts.

Computer fiends would be a little more accurate. But, for goodness sake, if we wanted to just have the thrill of cutting together clips on the computer, why go to such trouble? Film a glass of water evaporating and put it to some classical music. Why spend months of preparation time making elaborate costumes, sets and props? Why film a whole twenty hours of footage to cut it down to forty-five minutes? The logic here is a bit shaky.

Theory number five:

It’s because it’s part of a world-domination tactic.

This is getting ridiculous.

Theory number six:

It’s because they just want to have fun.

What? Fun, you say? How can you even think that all that was fun? It wasn’t! It was a nightmare! A major stress! A joy! Oops. A joy? How did that get there? Have I lost my mind? (Don’t answer that.) To sum it all up, it was fun. It was more than fun. Aside from the times when the entire cast would be laughing because the lines went wrong again, aside from the near-hysterical fits of giggling when someone fell through a prop, aside from discovering how witty we could be while filming in an uncomfortably warm room, we learned about ourselves. I don’t want that to sound stereotypical. We really did. I learned when I needed to stop for a bit and when I needed to push. I learned that it’s okay if a prop doesn’t look like it came from WETA. I learned that I have a real problem with delegating jobs to other people. (I also learned how to make fake ice-cream, but that doesn’t count.)

To sum up, we’re addicted, and that’s all there is to it. It’s easy to say “never again.” But then we review the outtakes, the behind the scenes fun stuff, and the “inside jokes.” The way this shot looks great and that one could use some work. The way we get excited over each finished scene. The way we learned to work together and make things happen, it was worth every minute.

Will we make another movie? Absolutely. This year? Well. . . we’ll have to see. My metal hot-glue burns need a little more time to heal.

This brought up a small problem. I am not nearly as good at fabricating sets as Rebekah and Ruth are. Being a rather difficult to daunt individual, I went ahead and tried it.

Obviously, I needed to think of a snowy set on little animal scale. Poster board gave me the base for my landscape, which I then scattered with fake snow, like you would use for decoration at Christmas. Now it looked like snow on the ground, but I still needed a fort and some trees, as well as a good background.

Originally, my background was going to be green poster board, which I would then key out later on the computer, then add a snowy mountain background. I shot some video with this setup and it didn’t work at all. Back to the drawing board.

The background ended up being a simple white sheet. I propped it up with some cardboard bricks, and then hoped fervently that it really looked something like cliff. Of course it didn’t, but the little stuffed animals don’t look real either.

When I contemplated the fort, I pulled out the white card stock paper and fashioned some blocks. My goal was to create something that looked like a fort you might build in the snow, but it also had to be destructible for an effect later in the fight. I set these aside while I built some trees.

I had gathered some little sticks from a bush in the front yard earlier. They were about dried out now, so I did the obvious. Clay bases to make them stand up, and then off to the garage for the snow treatment.

The snow treatment consisted of a coat of spray-on snow, which you can buy almost anywhere at Christmas time. It’s the kind that people spray on their windows to make them look snowy. My can even came with a free set of cheesy stencils. But anyway, both the fort blocks and the trees got a nice spray-down with the aerosol snow.

That left me with only a catapult and giant snowball to fashion. The catapult was simple. One small piece of scrap wood and something to prop it up on. The snowball was trickier, but I finally ended up creating a large ball of clay, baking it until solid, and then painting it white. I tried spraying the snowball with the snow stuff, but the stuff rubbed off after the first take.

So there you have it. My lovely snow set. Overall, it worked rather well for being built by a low experience person!

We quickly cut the exterior shot of Lydia’s house. There were no quaint little medieval huts in the neighborhood, and, well, let’s face it: a full-sized hut would take an awful lot of cardboard. We explored a couple of options, then deleted it and moved the essential part of that scene’s dialogue to the indoor set.

With all the dialogue happening in this “Lydia’s Parlor,” I didn’t want to stick a couple of chairs against a white wall and call it good. The artist in me cried out against anything that didn’t at least have the “feel” we were going for. We created Lydia’s character as being hard of hearing and very old, but still sprightly. What would this person’s parlor look like? I would stereotype her as someone with teapots and dried flower arrangements. Knitted afghans and cozy fireplaces. There we have the first architectural element. A fireplace. Instant problem. The fireplace we have is in the middle of a room that is much to big for a medieval hut. The average hut at that time, even in a fantasy, did not have a vaulted ceiling or big glass windows. The solution? I’ll give you three guesses and the first two don’t count. Here it is in one of my favorite words. Cardboard. Of course, we wouldn’t be able to have an actual fire in a cardboard fireplace, but the idea is still there. And if worse comes to worst, animated fire is a possibility.

Ruth and I created an entire fireplace unit: hearth, chimney, mantel, even two “brick” ovens built onto each side. Set this next to an existing wall, use the cardboard units for the third wall and we had the beginnings of a great set. Throw in a rocking chair and knitted afghan (made by Sarah) for Lydia, a pretty teapot, oil lamps, (I know, wrong time period, but hey, they worked!) a great wooden bench for Marelac and Emcracy, side table, pillar with a plant on it, and finally, a bookshelf with lots of knick-knacks on it, and you’ve got it. (You don’t see any of the knick-knacks in the film. I positioned it too far back, so it was out of the camera’s range.) But wait, you say, where did Stelen sit? On one of the ovens. We supported it with a stool underneath. As long as he didn’t move, he wouldn’t fall through the fireplace and take the entire wall of the set with him.

Thankfully, everything went well. For a final touch, we added mugs of tea. Slight problem! None of the actors liked tea, so we improvised. Hot chocolate does a great job at dubbing in for tea, believe it or not.

I should have learned my lesson, but look what crops up in iSundae 2. You guessed it. A swamp monster. This time I thought I would be smart. I started with a little model. Actually, I started with drawings, but then I made the model. He turned out pretty good. The idea was for him to be waterproof so we could portray him rising from pools of camouflaged sawdust and water. That never happened. Little Bob simply served as a prototype for Bob the Elder.

Bob needed to say lines, so I created a larger scale model of Bob’s head with a moveable jaw. I really should have given him a moveable tongue, as it would have added much more to the general effect. We mounted him on blue screen and commenced filming. All told, I probably put eight hours into the two Bobs, start to finish.

We reviewed the footage and, guess what! We promptly assigned someone with the job of making a computer-generated Bob. Sad, isn’t it? Not really. I had a fun time making him. . . (or should I say “hims” since there were two of him?)

Hopefully I’ll either learn this time and keep a monster out of the next movie, or I’ll improve my crafting skills. Which is more likely to happen remains to be seen.

Alrighty, everyone, I, the die-hard rambler, am going to set my commentary aside and actually give you a step-by step, official “how-to” guide! (Pause for collective gasp.) This post will talk you through making a belt with pizazz. I made this belt for Gwenanda in iSundae II, and as a disclaimer, the belt was made before I ever saw Eowyn’s gold belt.
Okay, wise-cracks off and here we go.

Materials needed:

• 2 cereal boxes
• Hot glue gun and sticks (Low and high temp) A small-nozzled gun is recommended.
• Scissors
• Gold craft paint
• Gold-colored wire
• Jewelry chain links. (Small and easy to open.)
• Pencils
• Drawing compass
• Wire cutters and pliers

Step 1

Draw a circle on the cardboard 2″ in diameter, then draw a second one 1/4″ smaller inside the first. Repeat for however many belt links you want. (I used 16.) Cut out the rings you have drawn.

Step 2

Free hand cut, or draw first, four flower petals for each circle and a tiny 1/4″ to 3/8″ rough circle for each flower. (This circle will be hard to see, so don’t worry if it’s not perfect.) Experiment to find the right sized petals.

Step 3

Glue four petals to each tiny circle, then glue the outer ends of the petals to the BACK of each belt link. (If you want to get fancy, you can carefully glue the edges of the flowers to the edge of the ring, but that’s a lot tougher.)

Step 4

(This is where it gets tricky.)

Take your wire and cut enough to go around your cardboard belt link with room to spare. I think mine was between 6″ and 7″ long. Twist ends together to create a circle. Lay on the back of your belt link. Crank the hot glue up to high and glob it on the back leaving a 1/4″ of wire uncovered on two opposite sides. The glue has to hold the wire on so don’t be afraid to coat it. You have to leave gaps open so you can get at them later.

Step 5

Paint fronts and backs gold. I used a fine-point brush and layered paint drops to get a detailed center on the flowers.

Step 6

Once dry. And I mean that. Attach the links to each other, using the little wire circles and jewelry links. To open a metal link, twist the sides, don’t try to force them apart or you’ll weaken the ring.

You can either put the rings directly into the loops, or put multiple rings between each loop. It depends on your belt. I used a Lobster Clasp to fasten my belt.

Whew. (Long breath) That was harder than I thought. This is just a jumping off point. You can design your own belts, obviously. Use silver, gold, copper, bronze, black or whatever you want. And why limit yourself to belts? Keep in mind, hardened hot glue will still soften under a lot of heat and occasionally paint can come off on your actors. Not to mention the rings sometimes come loose. If you make one of these, we’d love to hear about it! (And if you can give me some tips on easier ways to work the wire in the back, that would be wonderful.)

Okay. Suffice it to say not all of us can afford to build a real castle for filming purposes. That is the real kicker of making a medieval movie. That, and no horses… or huge landscape shots…or a really good camera and large crew… anyway. I’m going to walk you through the process of creating a “cardboard wall unit.”

Step One — Paperwork

Before any, well most, of your prop projects, draw it. Or at least measure and write down the measurements. iSundae II called for a turret set (the top of a tower on which the hero and villain fight amid thunder and lightning). So, silly me, I said we could use our cement driveway, along with these wall units, a cardboard door, and green screen to simulate a tower. I also got smart and made the units a size where we could use them for the dungeon and miscellaneous walls as well.
I went out on the driveway, did some measuring, and came up with a number of units. If I remember correctly, it was twelve 6 feet by 2 feet units and fourteen 4 feet by 2 feet units.

Step Two — Assemble Materials

Friends, that’s a whole lot of cardboard. Praise the Lord, JoAnn Etc. gave us their empty cardboard fabric bolts for free. We got a couple cartloads, plus our wonderful grandparents had some boxes from their patio furniture.

Step Three — Cut

Until your arm aches. Then cut some more. You build up great arm and finger muscles doing this. I’ve said before, I use a rotary cutter and mat. It helps to stack your pieces in piles according to unit. A top, two sides, and the front (or the pieces thereof) in one pile, etc. Although, you might run out a space. I piled all my tops together and sides together, then put the tops on the sides to conserve space. (A craftroom shrinks amazingly when you get this much stuff in it.) Please watch out for your fingers during this stage.

Step Four — Glue

This procedure does use a ton of hot glue. Trust me, by the end of this project, I could touch 380 degree glue and not blink. (Unless my finger actually plunged into the glob. Then it was painful.) This is not something you need to be proud of! It is a safety hazard. I should investigate a pair of gloves.
(Ha, I can see Ruth coming down to the craftroom. “Hey, how’s it going?”
Me: “Well, I’m on my fifth pair of gloves.”
“Where’d the others go?”
“Well, one’s glued to that wall unit over there, one’s stuck to this stalactite frame, one’s…”)

Step Five — Bring a Fish Friend

Oh, wait. Guess I’ve seen Finding Nemo a few too many times. The correct next step would be Painting. We found a great paint in the Oops Bin at Home Depot or Lowes. I can’t remember which. We went to both on the same day and got something at each. It was the neatest paint, gray with granite flecks in it so it was textured kind of like stone.
The units looked great. That is, the few we were able to do. Dry cardboard soaks up paint like you wouldn’t believe. So we had to mix up some gray paint and try to match the color. It turned out rather blue, but hey, it happens.

Step Six — Use It

Well, I ran out of patience, paint, cardboard, and storage space long before my planned quota. We ended up with eleven short units and eight tall units. You’d be surprised how much you can do with those. They are not recommended for controllable fire scenes, hot weather (the glue melts), termite areas, or people who are allergic to dust. And be aware that a large cardboard piece will blow over, given a small amount of wind. We learned this the hard way.

If you can make sense out of these rambling instructions, good for you. Have fun prop-making and watch out for cardboard cuts.