Love Through the Eyes of My Camcorder In my career I have videographed over 200 weddings, and it never ceases to amaze me the crazy things that go on at these events. I won't bore you with the drunken grandma hitting on the 20-something waiter, or the evil matron of honor presenting a slide show of the bride's most embarrassing moments, or the bride who started her menses in the middle of her vows, only to walk down the aisle leaving behind a trail of blood. No, I'll spare you the trivial, insignificant little details. Instead, I'd like to talk about the shameful, lascivious louses apparently hoodwinked into an already doomed marriage. Surrounded by guests seated out-of-doors, I rushed to set up my equipment for a wedding one hot afternoon at a park in Glendale, California. It usually takes about 20 minutes to set up. Then I conduct the pre-ceremony testimonials from the bride and groom. As I connected the wireless mike to my camcorder, I witnessed an angry woman in the distance, exiting a limo. Her hair was perfectly done, but her white ballerina gown was inappropriately youthful. The "mature" bride-to-be took the hand of her 4-year-old daughter, and yanked her out of the vehicle. I looked at my watch and realized that the ceremony was running late. I approached one of the agitated guests and asked her where the groom was. She said it would be a miracle if a wedding happened at all that day. I asked what she meant by that, and she laughed. "You don't know these two, do you?" she asked. The betrothed couple had dated for thirteen years. After a five-year engagement following the bride's announcement that she was pregnant, the groom was forced into a marriage. The bride came from money, and that seemed to be the only thing she had to offer. She frowned constantly, creating harsh lines on her face. Her hair was dyed blond with the obvious black roots peeking through. She wasn't your typical "blushing bride." The groom had been missing in action since his bachelor party the night before. Therefore, I decided to pass on the pre-wedding testimonials—the bride was too upset. I waited for the groom to show up. After an hour had passed, I decided to pack up my gear and hit the road. Just as I put away my last piece of equipment, a black limousine screeched into the driveway. A stout elderly man marched to the limo and pulled the groom out of the car. I couldn't hear what he said, but he was definitely giving him a stern chastising. The groomsman, who had been aimlessly dallying, rushed into position as the groom was escorted to his spot. The preacher was poised and the music finally started. The bridesmaids marched to the beat and took their positions. With my camera, I focused on the inebriated groom whose best man helped him to stand upright. Finally, the bride came down the aisle and was escorted by her angry father. After the final "I dos," the bride rushed down the aisle with her new husband trailing behind. The newlyweds were arguing as they posed for their wedding pictures. I packed up my gear and headed for the reception. Looking through the lens of my camcorder affords me the luxury of really seeing what others can't. When the wedding party arrived, I was panning the room. I landed on the groom, who seemed to be looking right at me. I stopped filming, and he brazenly approached me. "So you the video person?" he asked with a thick Bronx accent and a smirk on his face. "Let's dance later when she's gone." This guy was flirting with me. I was totally shocked. The bride and groom never danced once together. I avoided her eye contact the whole night. I felt so sorry for her. I filmed people eating, partying, toasting, and dancing. I followed the photographer around—she was a gorgeous blonde. I wondered how she fought off the groom's advances. She, too, was part of the hoax—taking pictures to create an illusion of a happy wedding. I said goodbye to the bride, who, not surprisingly, was sitting alone. She was very grateful and appreciated both the photographer and me. I felt bad for her. As I was loading my car with equipment, the groom suddenly appeared and handed me a slip of paper with his number scribbled on it. He told me to give him a call sometime. My first instinct was to slap him, but I thought better of it. Could I be so naïve as to believe that this little wedding video could actually change somebody's life? Maybe it will influence their child to marry a louse? Will history repeat itself? Will she follow in her parents' footsteps? Maybe I should have told the truth, presented all the facts. After all, the groom was hitting on me, as well as some of the bridesmaids. I should not have edited out the contemptible looks that he gave to his new bride. Maybe I should have focused on the bride, who spent most of her reception sitting alone while her husband was busy flirting with the help. While driving home, I thought about how lucky I was that my husband actually wanted to marry me—that he was waiting for me when I got home—that he was happy to wake up with me every morning and even happier to hold me in his arms. I looked through our wedding photos and saw the love that is there when two people make a commitment to spend their lives together. And I knew that editing the video footage of that wedding was going to be hard. I'd have to cut the angry looks and camouflage the inappropriate behavior. I'd have to score it with musical tracks like "At Last" and "When I Fall in Love." I would have to create an illusion—a lie. Yes, sometimes looking through a lens gives more of a situation than meets the naked eye. But in this case, the husband will probably never watch the video. The wife, however, won't be able to stop. It's a good thing I learned how to edit. Written by Kaylene Peoples |
