Twenty-four hours in the life of an aspiring filmmaker.

As a big fan of producer/writer/director Judd Apatow (Freaks and Geeks, Knocked Up, Superbad), I was really looking forward to seeing Forgetting Sarah Marshall on opening night, and then reviewing it on this site. Yes, the movie met my raised expectations, but ultimately ended up being just one highlight of a long, strange day. It all started with an earthquake.

Admittedly, seeing Magnolia for the first time, the night before, put me in a peculiar mindset from the start. I slept through the aforementioned earthquake and woke up early to help out some friends on their film shoot. However, I got sidetracked catching up on internet news I had missed while in DC and didn’t make it out the door until almost noon. So far, a pretty normal day.

I walked over to the soundstage, across the hall from Wisconsin Public Television in Vilas Hall, where I met up with former classmates Karim and Amy. The set had already been constructed the previous day, so all that remained was for the six of us to decorate it. Eight hours later we were ready to shoot, but I had plans to go see Forgetting Sarah Marshall with a couple friends, so I left the set and walked back home to get my car.

Here’s where things got weird.

Now, I’ve had things stolen from my car, before. About a year ago someone made off with my stereo and GPS, and I felt violated—my trust in the basic goodness of my fellow man shattered. This was different. The first thing I noticed was that the back seat was messier than usual. Slowly, that familiar feeling of betrayed anger flooded into the pit of my stomach. And upon realizing that I must have accidentally left the doors unlocked, the anger shifted toward myself.

I didn’t want to miss the movie, so I got in the driver’s seat and slammed the door. The compartment where I kept my GPS had been cleaned out, but the stereo was still in place, so I assumed that it had just been a quick smash-and-grab (only without the smash). I suddenly remembered that my best friend’s car had also been broken into only a few days earlier. My post-Magnolia mindset made this coincidence feel like more than it really was.

While stopped at a red light, I looked through the console’s contents, which the thief had spread across the passenger seat. Sunglasses, CD-Rs, an electric air freshener, my handheld GPS—wait, they didn’t take the handheld GPS? It was bright yellow and not easily overlooked. As I tried to rationalize this, I spotted my other GPS, the really expensive one, sitting under an empty jewel case. My annoyance and anger briefly turned to relief before sinking into confusion and paranoia.

Let me get this straight, I thought to myself. Someone was in my car, digging through all my stuff, and didn’t take anything of value? What were they looking for, then? Cash, maybe? Drugs? That didn’t make any sense. Not many people keep drugs or significant amounts of cash in their cars. Maybe someone really needed loose change… I was utterly confounded. It wasn’t until I arrived at my friends’ house, on the way to the movie theater, that I realized what had happened.

“Did you feel the earthquake, this morning?” Chris asked, conversationally. I was about to reply that, no, I had slept through it, when it dawned on me that it must have been the earthquake that had shifted my car’s contents around! No sooner did I communicate this thought than I realized just how absurd it was. A 5.2 quake in Southern Illinois wouldn’t have been powerful enough to have that kind of effect in Madison, WI. Oh, and my Fleetwood Mac CD had been ejected from the stereo and placed in the cup-holder. Pretty sure no earthquake would do that.

Oh well. I put the entire mystery out of my mind and we went to see Forgetting Sarah Marshall. It was exactly what I expected: well-written, well-acted, hilarious, sweet, crude, romantic, and containing several scenes with Kristen Bell in a bikini. What stood out to me (far more than it should have) was the role of coincidence in the film. Again, the post-Magnolia mindset was at play. The plot hinges on the unlikely coincidence that Jason Segel and Kristen Bell’s characters, having just broken off a 5-year relationship, should both end up at the same hotel in Hawaii, and in adjacent rooms no less. Of course, extreme coincidence is nothing new to the Hollywood formula, especially when it comes to romantic comedies.

After the movie I parked near Memorial Union, triple checking that the car was locked, and returned to the soundstage, where the shoot was only about a third of the way done. I volunteered to go get coffee, since the cast and crew were tired after so many hours on the set. Yoshi came with me to help carry the drinks, and we set off for Starbucks, only a few blocks away.

As we walked down State Street on a cool Friday night, we were lured into The Pub for a quick drink. Yoshi bought a few shots of Jameson and we went on our way. We arrived at Starbucks at exactly midnight, as they were dumping what was left of their coffee. Of course we couldn’t let everyone down (especially considering it was our fault that we had just missed our chance at Starbucks), so we hopped in my car and drove to the 24-hour McDonalds on Regent Street.

On the way, I told Yoshi about someone going through all the stuff in my car. His immediate response was, “Have you seen Michael Clayton? Do you have any enemies?” While of course it would be silly to worry that someone had planted a bomb in my car, it did make me wonder if it was all just a coincidence. I had just gotten back from DC, and the first night that my car was in the apartment building’s garage someone messed with it. Once more I put it out of my mind.

We arrived at McDonalds and were greeted by a long line of high schoolers with nothing better to do than hang out in front of a fast food restaurant on a Friday night. We escaped with five small coffees and a couple sodas, but no cream or sugar. Karim ended up putting peanut M&Ms in his cup as a last resort.

The movie shoot continued on into the wee hours, with the actors and crew members getting increasingly wacky. Some had been up for nearly 24 hours, and everyone was exhausted. The lead actor and actress went from singing Little Mermaid songs between takes to making up their own nonsensical duets, some of which can only be described as “scatological scat”. Despite the long hours, everyone was in good spirits.

We wrapped up sometime around 5am and I gave the lead actress a ride home.

Half dead, feet and knees aching, I climbed into bed with my cat and drifted off to sleep. The last thing I recall thinking, apart from how amazing the warm blankets felt, was this: An earthquake. A break-in. A movie premiere. 18 hours working on a film set, and I couldn’t be happier. If I believed in signs, I think they’d be pointing me toward Los Angeles right about now.