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.

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.

Alright, folks, step this way and watch out for loose pins. The first exhibit is the Messenger.

Yes, that’s me. This costume was very easy. The only part we had to make was the vest. Brown suede front (isn’t it a gorgeous color?) with a matching cotton back, since suede isn’t the cheapest of materials. Eyelets and leather lacing. For you costume makers out there, beware of thin suede and eyelets. They pull out. By the end of filming we had three or four at least laying around.

Next up we have the Cone Wielders. These costumes are great.

Norion, wielder of Waffle Cone, has what we call a blue puffy shirt. The original version turned out a really strange shade of blue, so we remade it using a darker blue. The ribbony things at the neck are hand-made by myself, and the cape is brown suede. (Look familiar?)

Kalath of Kiddy Cone’s outfit is a little less detailed. We were in a bit of a rush at the time. The vest and sleeves are all one piece. We punched in a couple eyelets and sewed ribbon on the sleeves. The addition of a wig aided in disguising the well-known actor who also plays Marelac. (Twenty-people casts are an unknown luxury.)

Alyah (Sugar Cone) turned out wonderful. The dress is a red, oh, I guess you could call it tapestry fabric. It weighs a ton. The white at the neck helps break up the color a bit. We all think she ended up looking rather like an elf.

And this, ladies and gentlemen, is General Public. His costume was basically put together from scratch. Cardboard epaulets and hat, covered with hot-glued fabric. (Wonderful hot glue.) A red fleece blanket safety pinned on, an eye-patch, and great acting talent and you have a seriously funny character.

Then Lydia. Ah, Lydia. I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. We needed an older character Like, really older. The costume is actually Somindeo’s robe from the first movie. We added a cord belt, a hand-knitted scarf, and a wig. Believe it or not, that’s technically a “movie star” wig.

Good, but it could be better. Call out the big guns! Enter Liquid Latex. It’s wrinkle time! For those of you who are looking at using this, either have a strong stomach or keep your nose plugged. It’s got an eye-watering, distinctive smell all of its own. Putting it on is a hassle. I’m guessing it took us half an hour to get it on and the makeup on top, plus makeup on her hands. We filmed the one scene – I repeat: ONE scene that had her in it – then started removing the latex. I think the closet thing I can compare it to is trying to take the varnish off a table. (Not that I’ve had experience in that area.) The first few pulls came off in nice two or three inch square patches. The rest of it came off in pieces the size of Tic Tacs. Maybe a jelly bean if I got lucky. That stuff took twice as long to get off as it took to put it on.

I like to think that the results looked good, and when you couple that with the actress’ great voice for the part, you have an old lady, slightly hard of hearing, who enjoys tea. (Actually, it was hot chocolate. The supporting actors didn’t like tea.)

I used painted muslin for my main material. It’s actually quite easy to make. You take the muslin piece, tape it down to thick cardboard (so the paint won’t soak through), get it wet (somewhere between damp and dripping), and start rubbing the acrylic paints in.

I put all the paint colors I would need on a paper plate, in Caramel’s case, shades of brown and a little metallic gold. I started out with a large paintbrush, but I’ve also used hunks of paper towel when needed.

Slap the paint on there and start blending. Then all you have to do is stop when it looks the way you want it to. Let it dry overnight, then de-tape it and peel it off the cardboard. Or pry it off, depending on its mood.

I had the sword handy, so I used it for measurements. Once I had the main scabbard, I made the decorative piece at the top. I also added a thin strip of cardboard on the back of the inside of the sheath, so it would be easier to slide the sword in. Then I painted on the decorations and hot glued the gems on. I put enough hot glue on that when I pushed the gem down, it bubbled up around the gem, creating a sort of holder, which I painted brown.

Ice Cream’s sheath (the white one) was easier. I just glued on a string of pre-threaded pearls and added the gems and fringe, which was cut fabric.

The sheath of Chocolate I really like. (Mainly because it was mine in the movie.) I used crinkled aluminum foil, shiny side out, for the designs.

Pizza’s sheath is simpler, but really cool looking. I used black felt instead of painted muslin, and used black paper with gold watercolor on it for the designs.

These sheaths served us well, which is more than I can say for the belts. Aside from an occasional malfunction, they did their job in classic style. The thought just occurred to me that a sock might make a good sheath for a dagger…

Anyway, use your imagination and the supplies you have. It’s hard to use something if you don’t have it.