Asking an 80-year-old Mayan Indian woman from a tiny village in Southern Mexico to react to falling snow - something she's never experienced and can't comprehend - is a challenge. Explaining the desired reaction to the first AD who must explain to a Spanish interpreter, who in turn relays the concept to a local dialect interpreter, who then conveys the direction to the elderly amateur performer, is more like a game of broken telephone. But you can't fake genuine wonderment, and sometimes the right people for a spot just don't speak English.

For Panasonic's "Guatemala" through Toronto's Bensimon Byrne, the client wanted the Soft Citizen/Furlined co-production to capture Guatemalan villagers' reactions to a freak snowfall as realistically as possible in the spot for plasma LCD television, Viera. The sleepy, idyllic village of Tenejapa, located nearly 1,700 feet above sea level in Mexico's southwestern Chiapas mountain range and roughly 2,000 kilometers south of Mexico City, fit director Mark Molloy's definition of "authentic". But while shooting would go smoothly, getting to the remote location required much complicated logistical planning.

Having ruled out shooting in Guatemala because of its poor infrastructure, Molloy remembered passing through Chiapas years ago while traveling in Central America. Untouched by tourism and home to a few hundred traditional Tzeltal Indians who work mainly as sustenance farmers, the Australian thought Tenejapa would be the perfect location.

"People there have never seen film cameras before," says Molloy over the phone from his Melbourne home. "People speak no English or Spanish, most had never acted before or comprehended acting. The first time we came into the town we walked down the main street and people just closed their doors."

To further complicate matters, a traditional Tzeltal belief equates snapping photos with taking a part of a person's soul. Waltzing into town with a conga-line of catering trucks, trailers, and generators would appear a little gauche. Molloy knew he'd have to tread lightly.

"I just wanted to make sure we left this town exactly as we found it," he says. "I felt really guilty because I'd pushed everyone really hard to shoot [there]."

A smooth, successful shoot would require a mix of deft negotiating skills and patience. To start the ball rolling, staff from the Mexico City-based production company The Lift approached state tourism officials to get permission for the project in early August. The tourism board gave the green-light and referred producer Grazia Rade to the village elders.

"They are very, very generous and hospitable people," Rade says. "All you have to be is patient and courteous and ask permission to take photographs. There was another community that said 'no, we don't want a commercial here' and we respected that."

However, treating the camera-shy Tzeltal with respect and dignity involved a few gestures beyond common courtesy, such as a donation to the local school and city hall.

Casting also required a sensitive and well-thought out strategy. Molloy had two or three back-up performers on set in case his first choice failed to deliver. Although many locals wanted to participate, some people came with strings attached. For example, if Molloy liked the look of a particular boy, he would defer to the Mexican casting director before offering the part.

"The casting director would say, "Now that's Pascal's son. If you want him, you have to [use] the whole family'," he says.

All the extra bodies also meant the caterer had to feed a crowd comparable to an extravagant wedding. "Everybody would bring their aunts and uncles and all of the local authorities came," says Rade.

The late August start date coincided with Tenejapa's weekly market, initially delaying production. The shoot lasted three days and was filmed on one town block. "Tenejapa is amazingly colorful," says Laurie Maxwell, a freelance agency producer with Bensimon Byrne. "There's just so much character there, it wouldn't have been as successful for the art department to recreate it."

A small crew was essential in keeping the shoot as low-key as possible. Molloy and director of photography Greig Fraser would rely heavily on natural light, meaning The Lift didn't need to truck in a large, noisy generator. The biggest equipment pieces were the four snow machines required to blow flakey, white cereal on the villagers.

The lighter load was also a relief for The Lift's drivers. With a few exceptions, the Mexican film industry is concentrated in the capital and all equipment had to make an expensive, two-day overland journey.

Given the complex logistical challenges, the spot's Toronto-based producers were relieved by the results.

"We knew this would be an experience for the people," says Link York, an EP with Soft Citizen. "And that experience was mirrored by the creative - people seeing snow for the first time was mirrored by them seeing a production for the first time."

GOOD TO KNOW
Currency exchange: $1 USD = 11 Mexican Pesos

Weather:
Chiapas is perilously sandwiched between two hurricane hot spots - the Pacific Ocean and the Gulf of Mexico. Flooding from Hurricane Stan devastated much of the border region Chiapas shares with Guatemala in October, 2005. "Guatemala" was shot smack in the middle of the August to October season as Hurricane John raged along the Pacific coast.

"We were lucky," says Rade, who adds it's becoming increasingly futile to predict weather patterns in the country. "At one time, if you wanted to film in Mexico in June, I'd say we might have a sprinkle in the evening. Now we're having more hurricanes and more storms out of season."

Bensimon Byrne http://www.bensimonbyrne.com
Soft Citizen http://www.softcitizen.com
Furlined http://www.furlined.com
The Lift http://www.thelift.tv