The Candy Cane Witch

‘The Candy Cane Witch’ ‘The Vanity Of The Candy Cane Witch’

I really need to sit down and write this entry properly, to do it justice, but I am so tired right now I almost don’t know where to begin. The main thing I have to say about this shoot is that it was the closest I have ever come to giving up and accepting defeat. I have never worked so hard, against the clock, to get everything ready; and I never underestimated my timing in such an epic way. I feel a little sick remembering it all, and have promised myself to never go through anything like this again. I may sound overly dramatic, but honestly – painting props in the dark at two in the morning before the day’s shoot was something I had never imagined doing, or ever wish to repeat.

After all the sugary sweetness of our previous Fairycake Godmother scene, I wanted to counteract that with a far darker approach. A Hansel and Gretel mood began to grow; bizarre menacing creatures that lurked in the woods. Finally I had my excuse to call upon Katie’s incredible circus skills, which is something I had wanted to use ever since I met her.

Looking back I’m not sure if it had been the triumph of our recent pictures and the sheer volume of props we had managed to create in such a short period of time, but we didn’t even begin making the giant candy canes until the day before the shoot. Over Christmas I had already made Katie’s costume, so I suppose things felt like they were more under control and that there was less to worry about. A whole team of friends had volunteered to help that weekend, so I started the day quietly confident that we would be finished by early evening and all was well. The morning’s progress was good, but by lunch, to my dismay, four out of five people had to go for one reason or another. Before I knew it, it was just Adam and I left, staring at a huge pile of sawn up industrial cardboard tubes as the panic began to set in.

We began making frames for the curved sections of the canes, it took a whole hour to shape just one tube, wrap it in chicken wire and knot it all in place with wire pins. We worked tirelessly without breaks for the rest of the day, but by six that night we hadn’t even begun painting them. That evening, Elbie and Katie came to help, but it was already so late and we had no choice but to carry on working outside in the dark. The only way to colour and cover the candy cane frames was to soak pieces of cotton fabric in a mixture of glue and paint, and then wrap them around the structures. This bonded everything together and smoothed out the uneven texture of the chicken wire, but it was also incredibly tiring, messy and very time consuming. It had to be one of the most exhausting days we have ever had, but thankfully it was also one of the funniest. None of us had any clothes that could withstand the unbelievable mess involved with the paint- soaked wraps, so we had no choice but to fashion plastic bag costumes to work in. We attacked Adam shrieking with laughter as we taped him into a bin bag dress complete with puffed sleeves of Tesco carrier bags! By midnight, adrenaline and a fear of failure were all we had left to run on. It was freezing cold, our only light was from a tiny bulb in the garage and the flicker of the garden security lamp. The whole thing was a hysterical shambles. Thank god we were all friends and somehow found the good humour to carry on. We went to bed at two that morning knowing full well that the canes would never be dry in time.

Five hours later I awoke and opened the garage: of course, everything was still soaking wet. I had no choice but to call anyone I could think of who could come and help. I begged them to bring hairdryers and heaters, anything that would get the props dry in time for the shoot that afternoon. After an hour the garage was turned into a sauna, five heaters were on full blast and poor Adam was armed with hairdryers, repeatedly going over every single cane until they were at least dry to touch. We had to face the fact that there was no time to paint the white stripes on the canes, so I rushed to a DIY store and bought armfuls of masking tape for us to wrap the patterns on with instead.

An hour later the sky had clouded over and it threatened to rain. The candy canes were now balanced on stolen traffic cones in the garden, while my well-meaning friends were frantically weaving around them like maypoles, taping crooked stripes in a blind panic. I nearly cried, I was broken but had no choice but to carry on; this was the only weekend that everyone could come together to make the picture. Giving up simply wasn’t an option. Eventually our manic production line of glue, paint, and tape somehow began to turn a corner and an hour later we had climbed an impossible mountain – everything was ready. It is true that most of it was still slightly wet in places, but it was enough! We loaded the cars and sped off to the location.

On arrival everything came together really quickly, a sudden intensity had set in and everyone fell silent, working as efficiently as possible while I paced up and down shouting orders. At long last everything was in position and everyone backed away from the set. By now it was late, really late. The afternoon light was dull and flat and I felt like I was going to pass out. I stood with my back to my friends, my hands shaking. I can’t really describe what I was going through at this point but I was embarrassed, defeated and so incredibly exhausted. I found myself begging my mum for help under my breath and praying for some light. I could feel tears prick in my eyes, I just needed to save this damn picture. Then something extraordinary happened. Out of nowhere, the sun broke through the gaps in the trees and flooded our little set with great shards of light. My jaw dropped as my friends let out a cheer. The smoke bombs were lit and Katie lunged into action, stomping towards the camera waving her giant candy cane, snarling and throwing her arms in the air! It was magical, hilarious … and utterly unbelievable. I constantly pressed the shutter, shouting encouragement at her, taking as many pictures as I possibly could until once again the light was gone, and everything returned to normal. It had been brief and crazy – like being in our own film – but as I stood to one side and desperately flicked through the pictures I breathed a sigh of relief. Against all odds – god knows how … I’d got the shot.