by Jen Calonita
The next movie was done by a girl who said she loved anything “creepy cool” in Seattle. Her movie was about visiting all her favorite “haunts” like an odd shop that supposedly sold haunted artifacts, and a tour of the cemetery to see the tombstones of martial arts actors Bruce and Brandon Lee. There were less spooky stops on her tour, too, like a visit to a giant shoe museum!
“That one was bizarre,” Mari said.
“But really unique,” I said. I was in awe of how they’d both come up with pieces of Seattle culture that I’d never even thought about before. Both movies were so different, yet interesting. “I never would have thought to do something like either of those.”
“That’s because Seattle underground and haunted tours of cemeteries aren’t your thing,” Lauren said.
“Lauren is right,” Mom added. “Their films reflect what they like about their hometown. Your film reflects you.”
My stomach still felt a little jittery. Those submissions were going to be tough competition. And they weren’t the only ones I was going up against. I tried to push any doubts out of my mind. I couldn’t change things now. Honestly, I wouldn’t even if I could.
“You’re right,” I said. I closed the submission window. Mom, Dad, and I could watch more films later. “I told my story. I can’t do better than that, can I?”
“Not at all,” Mom agreed.
I smiled at her. No matter how this contest ended, I’d given it my best shot.
“No! It can’t be!” Lauren shouted from off camera in her best character-in-peril voice. “The Horrible Homework Hacker has struck again!”
We’d cast two of our usual American Girl dolls to star in the movie based on Lauren’s excellent script about friends whose homework keeps mysteriously disappearing when they leave their desks. Lauren had taken on the dual role of screenwriter and prop master, making a laptop out of a book wrapped in aluminum foil and a keyboard out of poster board. Mari had come over to style the dolls’ outfits—they looked great in jeans and tees, and we gave one doll a beret. My lights and backdrop were set up on the floor of my room. Even Popcorn was behaving.
The dolls were performing beautifully.
It was two weeks after I submitted my CloudSong entry, and I was way too busy to even wonder when that long-awaited little e-mail about finalists was going to show up in my inbox.
I wasn’t thinking about that e-mail at all.
Not a bit.
Okay, maybe a little bit.
Still, filming “The Horrible Homework Hacker” was a good distraction!
Lauren and Mari had already recorded the dolls’ voice-overs, and now we were shooting the video in stop-motion. Lauren played the next line back again.
“Mr. Kozak is never going to believe our homework was stolen three times!” Lauren said. “We have to catch this hacker in the act and set a trap.”
Mari’s voice came next. “Let’s leave another sheet of homework and a flash drive out and see if the Hacker comes back to get it.”
Lauren pressed PAUSE on the recording.
We reviewed our storyboard before setting up the next shot with the dolls. We’d chosen this huge, oversize teddy bear Lauren won at a carnival basketball game to be the actual Hacker, but it was so big, we were having trouble establishing the shot.
“Want to let the voice-over continue to play as we figure this out?” Lauren asked. “Maybe it will give us ideas.”
“Good idea,” I agreed, and Mari nodded.
“Let’s go get something to eat and leave our homework right here,” Mari said dramatically on the voice over. “I hope the Homework Hacker doesn’t come steal it!”
“He won’t!” Lauren’s character said. “We’ll be gone only a minute.”
“Mwah-hah-hah!” I heard myself say in my best spooky voice, acting as the hacker. “Homework! I must eat more homework!”
“He’s falling for it,” we heard Lauren fake whisper. The three of us stared at the setup, concentrating hard.
Suddenly, Popcorn burst onto the set, knocking down the dolls and the small desk! She’d gotten herself wrapped up in Mari’s knit wrap and couldn’t shake the jacket off. The three of us started laughing.
“Duh-duh-duh! We’ve found our Homework Hacker! It’s Popcorn!” I said jokingly.
Lauren stopped laughing. “Hey! That’s not bad! How can we convince Popcorn to come into the shot? Maybe she can be the Homework Hacker instead of a stuffed animal.”
Before we could figure out how to make that idea work, I heard chords from Needles in a Haystack’s version of “Singin’ in the Rain” begin to play. Mari had sent me a clip to use as my e-mail alert.
I glanced at the e-mail notification.
“CloudSong,” I said, trying not to freak out. “I can’t look.” I covered my eyes. I momentarily pictured the subject line saying “Thanks for entering, but better luck next year.”
I heard Lauren and Mari’s voices. “Open it!”
My heart started to thump faster. I pulled my purple beanie cap over my eyes. Either way, I did my best, I reminded myself, thinking of what Dad and Mom would say. I held my breath. “Maybe one of you should read it.”
“Okay. This is the subject line.” Mari began to read: “CloudSong Seattle Film Festival Young Filmmakers’ Contest Update.”
“Wait!” I burst out.
What if this was the moment that launched my whole filmmaking career? Did I really want to be in a documentary about my life someday and have to admit I was too freaked out to open my first film festival results e-mail?
“I’ll read it,” I said. I pulled the cap away from my eyes and, without hesitating, stared at the e-mail. It was pretty long, but I scanned it quickly. I had won second prize and that meant my movie was going to be shown at the festival in a few weeks!
Oh. My. Awesomesauce!
“I’m in!” I shouted.
The three of us started to scream, and then Popcorn began to bark. Mom and Dad came running up the stairs and into my room.
“Everything okay?” Dad asked. When he saw us jumping up and down, he grinned. “Is it CloudSong?”
“What did they say?” Mom asked anxiously.
“I came in second place!” I said happily. Both Mom and Dad hugged me.
“It’s a bummer about the prize money,” Mari said quietly.
“Yeah, but to be honest, I’m too excited to worry about it,” I said. We’d have to think of something else to do at Camera Club until we got a new camera. Some kids were shooting videos on their phones. Others brought in their family’s camera. No matter what, I knew there was no way we’d stop making videos. “That one by the kid who focused on the Seattle underground came in first. His was really good.”
“Second place is still amazing,” Lauren said firmly.
“And you’re still number one in my book,” Dad said.
“You have to tell Becka and Gigi,” Mari reminded me.
“I’ll text them to log on for a chat,” Lauren said, and her fingers flew across her screen. Seconds later, I heard the pings for their replies. Mari opened up the chat screen on my computer.
“Did you hear from the festival?” Gigi asked. “What did they say?”
“Do we need to beg our parents to let us fly in for a premiere?” Becka asked.
“Yes! I came in second,” I said proudly. “My movie is going to be shown at the festival.”
“Aces, Z!” Gigi shouted as Becka chanted, “Team Z! Team Z!”
I was so happy, I felt like I could burst. “I can’t believe it!” I said again. “I really can’t believe it!”
“We can.” Mom smiled. “I know you struggled trying to find your story, but look what happened once you did—everything came together.”
“I already know what your next film topic should be,” Dad added. “A movie about the coolest dad on the planet.”
We all laughed. “Definitely,” I said. “I’ll get right on it.”
I knew in my heart that there would be a nex
t time and a next time after that. I had a million stories to tell—I couldn’t wait to start sharing them.
“Who do we have pulling up in a limo? Is that Z Yang, the most buzzed-about young filmmaker on the planet? Why it is! The crowd is going wild for her, ladies and gentlemen!” Dad held up his fist and talked into it like a microphone. “We have heard a lot about her groundbreaking documentary Zeattle this week, and it sounds like these fans can’t wait to see more from the first-time filmmaker. What is the crowd saying? ‘Z! Z! Z!’”
“Dad!” I groaned, but I secretly loved it.
How could I not?
I’d dreamed about attending my own film premiere forever and now it was no longer a dream—it was actually happening!
The five of us—Mom, Dad, Lauren, Mari, and I—were in my family’s Jeep and headed to the downtown theater hosting the festival. I knew there wouldn’t be a crowd waiting. Even if there was one, they weren’t going to be looking for me. No one knew who I was …
Yet.
Mari was getting into the same spirit Dad was. She leaned over to me, pretending her fist was a microphone. “Z, can you tell us who your stylist is? That outfit you’re rocking is outrageous!” Mari’s was great, too. She had on a tie-dye Team Z T-shirt that she’d paired with a white-washed denim skirt, and had accessorized with a big, beaded necklace. Her curls were piled high on her head, and she had a funky yellow butterfly clip in her hair.
I grabbed Mari’s “microphone.” “Thank you. I can’t take credit for my outfit. The look was put together by my good friend Mariela Ramirez.” I looked down at my black embroidered skirt that Mari had suggested I wear with a purple shimmery tank top and a long, dangling silver necklace. “You’ll be able to find her own line of clothes in stores nationwide this fall along with her band’s first full-length album.”
Mari stole her hand back and smiled. “Now you’re pushing it!”
“No, she’s not,” Lauren said as she brushed a piece of string off her skirt. “Z won a film festival. Why can’t you start your own clothing line and work on an album while I get invited to play on a professional soccer team?”
“I love what I’m hearing, girls,” Mom said. “Dream big.”
“We already are,” I said as I looked out the window at Seattle’s streets.
I was on my way to my first festival, where my movie—my movie!—was going to premiere before a full-length film! I didn’t think what Mari, Lauren, and I were fantasizing about was so far out of reach anymore.
My phone buzzed. I pulled it out of the small black clutch Mari had lent me.
GIGI: Sending you good vibes! Have a great time at the film premiere! Can’t wait to hear about it!
BECKA: Seattle is going to love Zeattle! I can feel it!
My friends were the best. I knew no matter what the audience thought of my movie at the screening, the people who were important to me were really proud. And I was, too.
After parking the car, we headed to the theater.
“Are you ready for this?” Mom asked as we walked, arms linked.
“Yeah!” I said, then hesitated. “Also nervous, excited, freaked out, and totally pumped up. I want to remember every moment of this night forever.”
“You will,” Mom said. “This is a big night! You’ll always look back on it proudly. So will I. You’re really coming into your own, Z.”
Mom was making me misty-eyed. “I really hope you like the movie.”
“Of course we will,” Dad said. “You put your all into this.”
We rounded the corner to the front of the theater, and I saw it right away. There was a red carpet! And photographers! There were even people being interviewed by a camera crew! (Sadly, there were no crowds waiting on the street corner with “Z” signs. Next time.) We walked up to a woman with a clipboard who was standing outside the roped-off area. When she saw us, she looked down at her clipboard again and smiled.
“Hi! Are you Suzanne Yang and family?” she asked.
“Yes,” I said, “but you can call me Z. How’d you know it was me?”
She turned the clipboard around and I saw my school photo. I forgot I’d submitted one with the application. “You look just like your picture.” She let us into a roped-off area. “Your party has seats reserved in theater one.”
That was so cool! I felt like a star.
“Thank you,” I said. “I guess we should get seated.”
“Actually, before you go in, we were hoping you would talk to a reporter from the Seattle Tribune,” said the woman. “She’s here to do a piece on the young filmmakers in the festival. She’s waiting on the carpet with a photographer. Do you mind talking to the press?”
“Mind? I’d love it!” I said. Mari and Lauren squealed—quietly. We were trying to be chill, but this was surreal! I was about to be interviewed on a red carpet!
“Great, I’ll bring you over,” the woman said.
“Do you mind if my family and friends come along?” I asked.
“Of course not. They can stand right by you on the carpet.” She led the way.
Wow! Lauren mouthed.
We weaved through a small crowd onto the red carpet where things were much louder. Reporters were asking other guests questions and photographers were snapping away. The woman introduced me to the reporter, Katy.
“Hi, Z! Congratulations on receiving one of CloudSong’s prestigious young filmmaker awards,” said Katy. “What do you think it was about your entry that made you stand out?” She held a microphone out to me.
I tried to calm down and focus on the answer. I’d never been interviewed before. “Hopefully, they noticed how I tried to stay true to myself,” I said. “When I first started working on my film, I got a little lost, but then I thought about the movie I really wanted to make, and the story I wanted to tell, and it all came together. I realized I wanted to share a piece of Seattle that was entirely my own. That’s what I tried to do in Zeattle.”
“Sounds like it worked!” Katy said, holding the mic steady. She asked me a few more questions about my age, where I went to school, and who my favorite director was. (I refused to play favorites, instead listing a bunch.) “I hope you have fun at your premiere tonight,” she said, wrapping up.
“I will … I mean we will,” I corrected myself. I called everyone over. “My parents and my friends came with me tonight.” Lauren looked nervous, but Mari held her arm. “I couldn’t have made this movie without them.”
“We should get a picture of you together,” Katy suggested. She motioned to her photographer. The five of us posed with our arms around each other. Mari linked one of her arms with mine, and I linked my free arm with Lauren’s. Mom and Dad were the book ends.
“Smile!” the photographer said. There were a series of flashes and clicks. “Now one of the winner alone.” Everyone else stepped back, and I didn’t know if I should pose or twirl or smile or do all three. I just stood there all bashful and awkward instead. I should have had Mari practice paparazzi skills with me. Next time!
Everything after that happened so fast. We walked into the theater and were offered free sodas and popcorn. Then an usher showed us to our seats, which had little signs on them with my name! As we slid into the row, I noticed the theater was packed. I settled into my seat between Mom and Lauren and tried not to fidget as I stared at the blank screen.
Any minute, the lights would go down and I would be watching my movie.
In a theater.
With an audience.
I felt like I was on a roller coaster that was going up, up, up, and I knew any second we’d go whooshing down. Everyone around us was talking and laughing, but I kept my eyes on the screen and waited for it to flicker to life. When the lights finally began to dim, Mom squeezed my hand. I squeezed back.
“I’m so excited!” Lauren whispered in my ear.
Mari leaned over Lauren. “We finally get to see your movie! It’s going to be great!”
The room darkened, and I saw the title credits
and my name.
“Zeattle”
A Film by Z Yang
And then the movie started.
The film opened with the drone footage of my neighborhood, flying over my block and landing on my front porch, where I stood waiting. “Hi, I’m Z Yang!” I said. “And this is my home in Seattle, Washington. I could tell you why I love living in this city, but I thought it would be more fun if I showed you. So come along on a typical Z kind of day!” I motioned to the viewer to follow me as I splashed around in puddles with Popcorn and gave them a front row seat on my scooter as Mari and I zoomed to school.
“You’re making me dizzy!” Dad teased in a whisper.
I made a montage of a Camera Club meeting and then Lauren and I walked the viewers along our favorite street in Queen Anne and took them to Sweet Treats, where Andrew and Maddie were waiting with bags of candy. “I don’t come here every day,” I said into the camera, “but I suffered for the sake of art.”
That got some laughs! Lauren and I scootered home as it began to drizzle, which was perfect because it transitioned into my favorite part of the film: Mari’s band dancing in the rain.
“You know the best part about my life in Seattle?” I asked as I stood and twirled an umbrella on my block and then walked to the park where we tried to shoot the music video. “I love when I get to go ‘Singin’ in the Rain.’” Then I cut to the footage of Needles in a Haystack dancing, with their version of “Singin’ in the Rain” playing in the background. To make the scene more personal, I had even added the footage Mom took of me joining in.
After some shots of dinner at my house (we had bulgogi, and I talked about some of our other favorite Korean traditions), it was time to go to my room and show my filmmaking studio where I make all my AGSM videos. “It’s been nice having you along with me today,” I said from my computer chair. I pretended to yawn. “But it’s been a long day, and it is time for me to turn in. Good night, Seattle!”
My film cut to black and the credits started to roll. I waited to see if I’d hear a magic sound …
