I don’t know if it was there when the building was still used as a warehouse for Sears. But Sears went tits-up, and now the huge warehouse space has become Vancouver’s largest filmmaking sound stage, aptly named Mammoth Studios.
I’ve only worked there once, for Night at the Museum III. Primarily dressing the British Museum sets. The one the Triceratops runs amok in. You’ll have to tell me how it looked. I’ve never seen the film — not really a Ben Stiller fan.
Perhaps he read me — that I am not a fan — when we nearly walked into each other one day during filming. Our eyes met for a mere nano-second before he dismissively looked away, and walked by, personal assistant hot on his heels, and just as dismissive.
Or, maybe, he’s just a jerk.
But I digress. The sink. It is just a sink. Well-used, and grotty. “Aged,” as we say in the film business, to perfection. And kinda eerie, with that big-old fluorescent tube hanging above it casting an ugly blue-green hue on everything. The enigmatic “Sink 1” label over it (there is no “Sink 2” as far as I can tell).
The photo inspired a macabre story a while back. I titled it Sink 1. Perhaps a bit on-the-nose, but sometimes horror is best doled out tongue-in-cheek. There’s probably another chapter or two in that story.
But, mostly, that photo has been out of mind. That is, until I saw the featured photograph for this week’s Weekly Photo Challenge. It’s of a beaten-down-and-out sink in a derelict industrial space. The challenge is (Extra)ordinary.
So, how could I not re-post this photograph in response?
British Columbia, Canada
Taken in studio for Night at the Museum 3, 2014