Film location scout puts Lowcountry in spotlight

On a raw, blustery day at Boone Hall Plantation, Steve Rhea is quite happily in his element. Balanced on oyster shells, with golden grasses offering a splash of color to a gray tableau, he surveys the landscape with a practiced eye.

Whether as location scout, location manager or both, Rhea's been riding a "30-year bandwagon," stumping for the Lowcountry as a production destination for motion pictures, telefilms, TV series and commercials. But he is also a champion of indigenous film production.

"All along, I believed that we could make our own films here, and make them as well as anyone else," says the former Sullivan's Island resident, now living in McClellanville. "Why not Charleston and environs? We just needed all the pieces to make the Charleston area a filmmaking destination.

"I also realized pretty soon what it took financially to realize this goal. And I think that (South Carolina native) Michael Givens' project (the recent Charleston shoot of "Angel Camouflaged") looked like the first legitimate, full-scale attempt at breaking that barrier in some time."

Rhea has served as location scout and manager for more than 35 features and telefilms here, including "Swamp Thing," "The Notebook," "The Hunley," "Major League III," "Ace Ventura II: When Nature Calls," "Paradise" and "The Lords of Discipline." More, he has helped co-ordinate 100-plus regional and national television commercials and international ad campaigns, while producing such projects such as Tsunami Media's interactive thriller "Silent Steel."

While focused on the Lowcountry as home base, he seizes any opportunity to travel, from Cheraw to California.

"For me, just to be working in film is great," says Rhea, a graduate of the University of South Carolina. "To be able to work in the industry and still live in the environment I favored was a dream I wanted to fulfill. It's challenging work because it's a 24/7 job, and the circumstances change hourly. It's like a huge jigsaw puzzle in which all the pieces are moving all the time."

All location managers also scout, or manage scouts. But in the beginning it's usually a one-person job.

"You're one of the very first people hired, and one of the first to read the script and visually interpret it. Someone (producer) has got the 'intellectual property,' knows he's got to shoot it somewhere, and has the money to shoot it, but the clock is ticking. He's got to start spending the money and spending it wisely. But before he can start taking the next steps he has to know where it's going to be.

"I'm involved in that. You find out what their needs are, anticipate what's ahead, and proceed from there. You also have to have an alternate plan -- and a back up for the back up."

Cog in the machine

Rhea regards himself as an effective intermediary between whatever community is serving as a location or base -- making citizens feel a part of a motion picture project -- and one of the most efficient (at its best) machines that exists: the filmmaking process.

"The same methodologies are being used; only the tools have changed," he says. "It's wonderful to see it all come together, to watch it happen. To know you have made a significant contribution to the end product is very satisfying."

Rhea, who prefers to maintain a low profile, long since jettisoned any regret over not having made his own films as a writer-director, though there's a trace of wistfulness when the subject surfaces.

"When I first started studying film I was convinced that the only job for me was director. I thought at one point I could be a documentary or independent feature filmmaker, but realized that was a tough road to travel. I stopped feeling badly about not achieving that one-man or five-man movie I dreamed of once I saw what I could do in other capacities. I also learned how not to approach making a movie."

Rhea never has thought of movies as a business, not even today. As a child, he was fascinated by everything cinematic, especially when his father took him to the Gloria Theater on King Street.

"It was at a time when everybody wore a suit to go to the movies. It was a formal event. I was struck by the power of cinema, how you just walk into the darkness and a dream begins. In two hours I could be taken through centuries. Even as a kindergarten kid I could see I would like to make movies.

For a while, Rhea thought he might become a professional photographer.

"I had a feeling that I would while in photojournalism in school, but I set my sights high: on National Geographic. Somewhere along the line I got the I-gotta-make-a-movie disease."

Having already earned his BA in History, Rhea was recruited to enroll in the first Masters program in Media Arts at USC in 1976. He graduated in 1977, to some extent having learned more about theory than practice. Not to say he did not achieve some practical applications on his own.

"A soon as I got into the program and saw how it would or would not benefit me, I was about ready to get out. It was a hot market at the time for people who could create their own media. No longer was it just about New York or Los Angeles."

Scouting a path

One of the jobs he got right out of school was at Trident Tech, making career information available for South Carolinians. John Wilson, then chief of the program, had been a classmate at USC. The program ran its course in one year.

Already living on Sullivan's Island, he led an idyllic life savoring the community's "golden age." For the next 15 years he surfed, learned to sail and worked in his industry, punctuated by a sojourn to sail the Caribbean, until moving to Awendaw and, in 2006, McClellanville.

For a time, armed with his camera, Rhea took jobs as a fisherman and crabber, unwilling to "go back indoors" so soon after his Caribbean fling. But his goals had not changed. Serendipity took a hand when he snared a job as director of multi-media at the Gibbes Museum of Art. Among many other responsibilities, the job entailed teaching photography at the Gallery school, a task he enjoyed immensely.

Then, out of the blue, came Wes Craven's "Swamp Thing," a comic book adaptation (shot in 1981) that, together with the feature "The Big Chill" (1982) and the TV miniseries "North and South" (1984), jump-started a busy period of filmmaking in the Lowcountry.

"It was my first job on a feature film, and the first for a lot of colleagues around here," Rhea recalls. "Their people came to town while I was at the Gibbes, and realized we had all these resources, like the many old plantations. So we sat together at a library table as I started pointing out where everything was on the map. I was using cinema language to describe the locations and they took notice.

"I told them I had a degree in film and they said, 'Do you want to be our location manager?' I wasn't even sure what the post involved, but I hired on as an assistant to the existing location manager." He wound up doubling on the production end.

"It was a time when everything you needed to make a film was 'on the truck,' and people were fleeing Los Angeles to make films elsewhere. What brought them to our latitude and longitude were the sites, the climate and the infrastructure. Because of the theater community, we had scenic painters, prop people, wardrobe, hair and makeup. We had ample crew here at that time. We had something we could have built on quick, but I don't think we took full advantage of it. Wilmington (and its extensive production facilities) eventually did."

As far as the film and TV community was concerned, opportunities were missed.

To supplement his income from movies, Rhea started doing commercials, utilizing newly gained production skills. "TV commercials are like mini-movies. I loved it. And as long as did these, I could afford to work on the little-paying art film."

Meanwhile, he continued to tap into the print industry, aiding high-profile photographers who would come into town for shoots.

New realities

Today, Rhea says financials dictate that unless a state is in the top five in terms of the production incentives passed by its legislature, an area may be dismissed out of hand. "We were definitely in the top five at one time, and the incentives were good, but were not put in place in such a way that they could be built upon year to year."

As a locations guru, Rhea describes his reputation in the trade as "more than useful." He relishes working with such departments as art direction and set construction. What he still has little taste for are the obligatory rounds of administrative tasks and number-crunching.

"There's more and more of that all the time," he sighs. "The industry has changed a lot and the last few years. In most cases, the people who are doing projects are doing it with less, and even nice people become more competitive in that environment.

"The problem with being a locations manager now is that the tools keep improving but the people stay the same. Just because you can give instant answers (via cell phone or e-mail) doesn't mean people are going to make instant decisions. A lot of how you do your job is through personality and friendship, through being sincere. Most people you approach are excited about a film coming to town."

About Steve

Birthplace and date: Charleston, Sept. 4, 1952.

Family: Parents Charleston and Martha Rhea; daughter Corinne 18, and Ian, 16.

Education: BA in History (1974) and Master of Media Arts (1977) degrees from The University of South Carolina.

Passions: Surfing, and picking up found objects on the beach and making something of them.

Hobbies: "I did assemblage for a time, and I like collages. Just this year I started painting, acrylic on found objects."

What gets his transmission in high gear: The creative impulse.

What drives you up a wall: People who lack integrity.

"Location, location, location": As true in film as it is in real estate.