Film School Follies: Part 2 – Full Sail Ahead

By ScottDS

In the Beginning…

While my neighbors from the dorm were no doubt getting wasted on some beach, I spent my 2002 spring break from FSU attending an open house at a school I had only learned about the previous October. It was a film school called Full Sail.

It was two months into my year at FSU and already I was prepared to leave. My dad had called me to let me know that one of his co-workers knew a guy who knew a guy (ad infinitum) who had attended Full Sail, which happened to a have a film program and was located in Central Florida. My dad said, “It had a weird name – something like Sail Air, I don’t know.” I did a search for “Sail Film Orlando” and Full Sail came up just milliseconds later. I perused the website – interesting… interesting. They did indeed have a film program and a game design program and a recording arts program, and a few others.

I sent an e-mail asking for more information. Within a few days, my new admissions representative, one Mr. Sean Plank, had written me a nice reply. He asked me what my goals were, when I’d like to get started, what excited me about the industry, etc. I told him the truth – I was interested in writing and directing feature-length films, in capturing the imagination of a mass audience, yada yada yada. Looking back on that original exchange, I can see how optimistic and naïve I was. Rule number one of film school is that most students want to direct. Period. While many want nothing more than to learn a specific trade (editing, camera, etc.), the vast majority have stars in their eyes and dreams of becoming the next Spielberg – or to stay current, the next Christopher Nolan or Peter Jackson. Some manage to accomplish this goal; many do not.

My parents and I drove to Winter Park (a small city bordered on all sides by Orlando) for a day during spring break and I liked what I saw. Orson Welles once said being a director was like being given the “biggest electric train set a boy could have!” He was right. We were given the grand tour: soundstages, editing facilities, mixing rooms, etc. The tour guides (current students) gave us a general idea of what to expect. Among other things, the Full Sail film program was (at the time) thirteen months long. Not two years, not four years – thirteen months from start to finish. This would mean classes would take place six days of the week on a rotating schedule. Lectures would be held during the day for durations of up to eight hours and labs would take place 24 hours a day. A typical scenario would be class from 9 A.M. to 5 P.M. and then a lab at 1:00 the next morning. New classes would begin every month and most would last for only one month. The production classes would usually last two months. “Bring it on!” I thought. I had it pictured in my head – my new film school buddies and I would bring sleeping bags to school and crash in the classroom until it was time for our labs! (This did not happen, but a couple friends did manage to catch a few zzz’s on a bed on one of our sets!)

We weren’t given all the details but it was understood that we would get to make films in three formats: digital video, 16mm, and 35mm. Some crew positions would be on a rotational basis while, for others, students would have to formally apply, with portfolios and everything. We would write all the scripts and the instructors would choose which ones were produced. (Our instructors turned out to have eclectic tastes.) We would edit on various platforms, including the now ubiquitous Final Cut Pro, the Avid Media Composer, and the Avid Symphony. We would also be working with real actors hired from around town. This threw me for a loop – I had never worked with (gulp) actors before. How would I know what to do? And yes, for our films we would be limited to the equivalent of PG-13: no sex, no nudity, and no profanity (one or two would be okay but nothing heavy). I remembered watching an FSU student film that featured a scene with a topless woman. That sort of thing wouldn’t fly here (which was probably for the best!).

The other thing I noticed was social – (many of) these kids were nerds! While I had some good friends over the years, I still never quite fit in. I never played sports (I still don’t) and I couldn’t always talk about movies with these people. The schmucks in the dorm at FSU certainly didn’t help matters either. But here, at Full Sail, I could finally be myself. I won’t say I chose Full Sail based solely on this but it was an integral part of the decision-making process. Sure, there would be geeky conversations but hopefully without the insular vibe I got from the FSU people. I could drop titles like Star Trek or Star Wars (or more arcane titles like Buckaroo Banzai) and a real conversation would ensue! And maybe, just maybe, I’d meet a nice girl with whom I shared at least a few common interests. Of course I later learned that Full Sail had a 95% male population, which led me to smack my forehead and call home to complain (with tongue planted firmly in cheek, of course!). Needless to say, this was to be an interesting adventure.

I can’t recall any major concerns I had at the time. I knew the program would only net me an Associate’s Degree, not a Bachelor’s. (They have Bachelor’s and Master’s Degree programs now.) I also knew that, like any school, the experience would be what I made of it. I suppose I looked at it like a second chance. Just for the record, before FSU I interviewed with an admissions rep from the film school at the University of Central Florida (UCF, just fifteen minutes down the road from Full Sail) but I walked away unimpressed. This seemed like a great opportunity and I wasn’t about to waste it.

August, 2003

After leaving FSU and receiving my AA from Palm Beach Community College, I took seven months off just to work and save money. I rented a nice apartment just five minutes away from the school in Winter Park (Full Sail has no on-campus housing) and on one weekend in mid-August, I moved… again. I have fond memories of that place and it would make a nice apartment for anyone.

A word about the Full Sail campus – there wasn’t one. The school has expanded by leaps and bounds in recent years but at the time, there was one large main building (two buildings connected in the middle) and an abandoned strip mall next door. Full Sail had actually purchased this land years earlier and converted the various stores into offices, classrooms, and soundstages – a smart use of space if I may say so (and quite common today). There was also a series of offices in a building on the far end of the parking lot and a small venue – Full Sail Live – on the other side of the main building for concerts.

It was in this venue that Full Sail held their orientation for new students. Classes started every month no matter what your major was – we were the “August, 2003” class. We would be together for our core courses: Introduction to Media Arts (IMA); Behavioral Science (BS); and Computers, Math, and The Internet (CMI). We were also divided alphabetically so in my core courses, I would be surrounded by students whose last names began with the letters “S” through “Z.” Afterwards, we would begin our major-specific courses. So for me, month 4 would mark the beginning of the film curriculum proper.

We were introduced to Garry Jones, president (or possibly CEO, I’m not sure) of the school. Just from looking at him, my first thought was that he must purchase his clothes from the same shop where Dr. No and Blofeld bought their wardrobe. I had no reason to be skeptical and I didn’t have any kind of anti-authority streak; I suppose it was simply my aversion to cult leaders and their psychological tricks. “Skip the sales pitch, we’re here already!” I don’t recall much of the orientation, only that it probably lasted an hour or so and that would be it until the following Monday when IMA started. I wish I could go back in time and be a fly on the wall during the session – I’m sure I’d spot some students who later became my classmates once the film courses began.

Once back in my apartment, someone knocked on the door, and for some reason I opened it. It was a student from orientation who spotted me in the parking lot. He introduced himself – Nick, bit of a country vibe going on, lived across the courtyard. He seemed nice enough and he would later prove to be one of the hardest-working (and nicest) guys in the class. (Interestingly enough, whenever people talk about rednecks – usually in a negative tone – I would always bring up this guy. Hell, he liked the Blue Collar Comedy guys and NASCAR. What more could you ask for?!) He ended the conversation with “Don’t be a stranger!” but it was several months until I talked to him. I don’t know why.

Three days until the first day of class… I did what any new student would do. I hung out with some high school friends who were attending UCF and got really drunk!


Recommended Reading (some of my favorite making-of books):

Bouzereau, Laurent and J.W. Rinzler. The Complete Making of Indiana Jones: The Definitive Story Behind All Four Films. New York: Del Rey, 2008.

Reeves-Stevens, Garfield and Judith Reeves-Stevens. The Making of Star Trek: Deep Space Nine. New York: Pocket Books, 1994.

Rinzler, J.W. The Making of Star Wars: The Definitive Story Behind the Original Film. New York: Del Rey, 2007.

Shay, Don. Making Ghostbusters. New York: New York Zoetrope, 1985.