A BTS look at making the movie "Taking Chance", and a tribute to the Marines who Changed My Life

In May of 2007, I was in pre-production on a film I had co-written and would direct, Taking Chance. All of the usual pre-production mayhem was ensuing. Where to shoot? How can we access all of these airport tarmacs (note to self: next time don't write a movie with so many airports!). Who was the crew we would hire? How could we make this incredibly aggressive shooting schedule? In one short moment, every one of those questions were sucked from my mind. You see, the impossible work of making a movie had proven to be a force field for me. A natural way for me to stay so distracted with the nuts and bolts, that I need not face the overwhelming, gut-wrenching emotion that was lurking within me. This was the story of a brave, magnificent Marine, LtCol Michael R. Strobl, USMC (Ret.). LtCol Strobl co-wrote the screenplay (he's a brilliant writer), but more daunting, he had lived the screenplay. Our film would follow Colonel Strobl's voluntary journey to literally escort the remains of 19 year-old Lance Corporal Chance Russell Phelps, USMC. Just as LtCol Strobl did not know Chance Phelps when he began his Escort Duty, I would never get to know or meet this stunningly remarkable young man. What I did not know at the time, is that Chance would change my life forever. The lines between making a film and living its story were about to blur. On that May day, I traveled with only my Producer, 1st AD, Production Designer, and Location Manager to Dover, Delaware. Dover is where ALL bodies of the Fallen are 'processed' before they depart to their hometowns with a military escort. I had written an intensely detailed sequence in the screenplay about the way in which bodies were received, but I had done so from an instruction manual I found on-line, and from some anecdotes. To my shock, the folks at the Dover Port Mortuary allowed me to come see the mortuary --- a place that was completely off-limits, even for most members of the military. As a filmmaker, I was terrified that they would say 'no'. I felt ill at the prospect of making this stuff up. Fortunately, LtCol Strobl and I didn't need to. I was greeted in the lobby of the mortuary by several of its workers. They were cordial, they were polite, they were passionate, and they were stronger than you could ever imagine. All they wanted, were I going to make a film, was to please just 'get it right'. I was not making a polemic --- there were plenty out there --- I was making a story about loss, about grief, about dignity, about honor, about respect, about community, and about the hole in the heart that can never be filled. There are many details of my trip through the Mortuary that I simply can not write about. Even now, having made the film, having had it seen by over 20 million people, having toured the country with it, and having spent so much time with grieving families, I still can not fully talk about what I experienced there. But I can tell you a few things. I started out looking at the structure and its inhabitants from a filmmaker's viewpoint. "This should be a nice, slow, dolly move --- I want to show restraint. I want the camera to feel like a Marine charged with Escorting remains", etc. etc. All of that went out the window the moment I entered the "back of the house". This is where remains are processed. One worker said to me "You'll need to follow me exactly and not stray. It's been a very bad week. We have 21 in the house.". That meant 21 husbands, sons, daughters, brothers, sisters, dads or moms, had been killed in action and were right there, proximate to me. For personal reasons, I choose to leave out many of the details (you can see most of them in the film), but what I witnessed was at once horrific and totally inspiring. How could I feel a sense of pain so deep it was as if I was kicked in the gut a hundred times, and at the very same time feel a sense of pride, of honor, and a level of inspiration which was seemingly impossible? I now know, that what I witnessed at the Mortuary was a kind of extraordinary humanity and decency rarely ever seen. I felt as though I was surrounded by Angels. (note: I am not a religious person). The men and women who worked in the mortuary cared for EACH AND EVERY Fallen service member as if they were their own child. Dozens of hands would literally and figuratively touch the remains. Every single uniform, even when the remains would NEVER BE SEEN, was so meticulously prepared. If there was a single, tiny error (say, a button is slightly off, a seam was ripped), they would start over from scratch. I have never in my life seen so much love, so much care, so much tenderness in the face of unspeakable horror and sadness. Day in and day out, the workers of the Dover Port Mortuary (ALL VOLUNTEERS), quietly do this work. On the day I met them, they changed me. I asked them over and over again "How can you come here every day? How do you get through it". One person said, "It's just the right thing to do." Others said over and over again, "Everything we do, we do for the families. We have a zero-defect policy. Every member of the Fallen will be treated with perfection - dignity, honor, respect, love, care." Early on in the proceedings, I had turned sheet-white. No one had to tell me that I was proximate to remains. I could feel it. All around me. Loss, sorrow, grief - incomprehensible grief. Chaplain Sparks, who worked at the Mortuary for some time and routinely wrote beautiful, unique, prayers for the Fallen, placed his hand on my shoulder. "Whether it's now, later, or in a few days, don't be afraid to talk to someone. The impact of being here may not be felt immediately. I don't care if it's a friend, a family member, or a clergy person. Just talk to someone." Instead of talking to someone, I made a film. My journey included so many aspects of Escort Duty, but more the character and heart of the Military, of the Marines, that the only way to sum up my feelings is within the film. In this blog, I've chosen to focus on the Mortuary, because it was the beginning of my journey, and will remain one of the most transcendent moments in my life. On Veteran's day, I wish to honor all Veterans everywhere. And, from my little corner of the world, I wish to honor the unseen heroes of the Dover Port Mortuary, and of every Escort who takes that journey.

I would be remiss, if I didn't recognize the other HUGE moment that came at the Mortuary. The Marine charged with inspecting the remains of Fallen Marines back when I was there, was MSgt. Vic Szalenkawicz III. I can't think of a more fitting day to celebrate someone who exemplifies heroism, decency, kindness, love, and honor, than today. At first the MSgt. looked at me sideways. I could see what he was thinking. "What the hell is this long-haired, Hollywood idiot doing in this sacred place?". I was scared of Vic. But, quickly, he would become my friend. And then, my hero. In 2004, Vic was serving his second tour in Iraq. His unit was hit by a roadside bomb. 8 men, including one of his best friends, died in front of him. Vic, himself, was injured. After enduring this horror, Vic came home (at the end of his tour). With a gorgeous wife and the greatest kids you could ever meet, it would make sense that someone who has sacrificed so much would want to be at home. But, in typical Vic fashion, what he'd given he felt was not enough. So, he volunteered --- yes, volunteered --- to go to work at the Mortuary and prepare remains. This, after having watched these 8 men die in front of him. A real part of the reason why our film is so accurate ("Taking Chance" depicts, for the first time ever, what happens when remains return home), is because of Vic. He became our key advisor. Not only for the Mortuary scenes we shot, but for the whole film. He came to set every day, and traveled with us to Montana to shoot the film's final sequences. Vic is not just a friend now. He is family. He reminds me of the character of our Marines. He reminds of the selflessness. He reminds me about those who do everything they do for others. I should mention, that at this very moment Vic is in Iraq on this third tour. Words don't really sufficiently express my gratitude to Veterans of all generations. I hope that my film does a better job than this little essay. Today, as I honor all Veterans, I would especially like to recognize the four who changed my life: Lance Corporal Chance R. Phelps, USMC; LtCol Michael R. Strobl, USMC (Ret.), All Workers of the Dover Port Mortuary - past and present, and MSgt. Vic Szalankawicz. If nothing else, I hope that "Taking Chance" helps to illuminate why I feel the way I do about these men and women.

I was terrified when I made this movie that no one would see it. People were tired of so-called "Iraq movies". HBO and I worked very hard to tell people, this film deserved to be seen. It's not a combat movie. It's not a political movie. As someone who has produced 6 films, I wondered if the the distributor would see the film as "too indie" or "too difficult" and not spend any money marketing it. In HBO, I found the exact opposite. Billboards, posters, trailers, commercials --- they were proud of the film and they put unbelievable amounts of passion into the marketing campaign. And, it worked. I'm happy to report two things that are deeply humbling and very heartening. First, the film debuted on HBO on February 21 to 2 million viewers --- the highest ratings for any HBO movie in 5 years. As of now, over 10 Million people have seen it. Secondly, and perhaps as important, I was stunned to find out that Secretary of Defense Robert Gates had seen the film. All of us who made the film were amazed to here him state publicly that "Taking Chance" 'profoundly influenced' his decision to lift the ban on media coverage of casket arrivals.

Click here to see an intimate photo gallery captioned by director Ross Katz.

Click here to watch an extended interview on MakingOf with Ross Katz.