Steam Computers

We had walked past the steam powered clock the previous day in Gastown. Unusual in itself. But not as unusual as the steaming computer in front of me in the Cambie Hostel reception area. Just as I was thinking that the Canadians were far advanced in terms of innovation, I realised, or was pointed out, that in fact the steam was caused by a spilled cup of coffee.

“This is just not my day, I’ve told the cleaners not to come anywhere near me” came the distressed voice behind the desk. Like trying to peer through a misted windscreen, I had picked the moment to extend my stay at my hostel. “Now what room number were you?” as she tried to make the difference between the one four and the one five on the screen. “No, someone has got your room, I’ll have to move you to another one”. As much as I could trust someone squinting through a steaming computer monitor, I accepted someone else’s mistake and went upstairs to prepare my bags. Despite the minor inconvenience, I didn’t want Miss Steamed face to get any more steamy, she would probably take off if she did.

The move along the corridor had mixed blessings. I was slightly disappointed that I would miss the free heavy metal concert that occurred between eight and two am every night. The previous room appeared to be directly above the drum kit, it had got to the point where I could hear screams for “more, more”. Instead of trying to fight the noise I accepted it, trying to second guess the next song on the list. I felt a reasonable sense of satisfaction getting one correct (Metallica’s ‘Sad but true’, for some reason it always came after ‘Unforgiven’). I felt disappointed the next morning when I woke up, I had missed the last hour of the live show, the pillows must have finally suffocated me as well as protecting me from the noise.

“Hey man, let me be on the movie, I can act, look at me” as he walked into the road and tried to dance, stumbling in the gutter. At eleven thirty, the aspiring actors come out, fuelled by alcohol and false confidence, the ‘filming’ signs act like a red rag to a bull. This guy was good, if only they were shooting Water world or Anaconda, they would have got the part straight away.

It is impossible not to walk past a film set in Vancouver, the glowing signs and huge trailer trucks provide reasonable clues. If you combine this with lots of people walking around with clipboards, headsets and “Silence please, filming in progress” you tend to realise it isn’t just a Japanese family filming traffic, for a start, the family would have way more expensive and numerous cameras.

Vancouver is the third largest film production centre in the world, and it growing fast. The reasons are as varied as they are plenty. It’s all year round climate is favourable, the changing topography provide flexibility and, most significantly, the scenery around Vancouver could easily pass for any American city.

Although the recent trend has been to shoot sci-fi movies such as ‘The Net’ or ‘Cat Woman’. the genre of film making is expanding all the time, with the ‘Bachelor party’ being a recent example. The city appears to be open and friendly when it comes to accepting potential film makers through the city, the locals tend to take all this action in their stride, it seems, to them at least, to be a way of life.

As I came back into the hostel, a voice from reception popped out. “You in room 215? You seem to have paid for two rooms”. Without wanting to look like a know it all, I refrained from saying, but thought instead, I knew steam computers would never catch on.