By Greg Woehler
The Western Front

Some people thought Y2K would bring bombings and terrorist attacks. Others predicted crashing computers that would leave airplanes blind and bank accounts empty. Still others expected the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse to come galloping into town.
Seattle Mayor Paul Schell was so wary of a bombing he ordered the celebration at Seattle Center canceled and the whole place locked down.
Of course, nothing really happened. Y2K was the biggest letdown since Geraldo Rivera cracked Al Capone's vault and found a pile of 60-year-old dry-cleaning receipts.
The most noteworthy thing about Jan. 1, 2000 was the Rose Bowl (Wisconsin 17, Stanford 9).
Anticlimax is exactly what Brian Quist and Western student TJ Martin said they expected to capture in "A Day in the Hype of America," their as-yet unfinished documentary about the 24 hours surrounding the coming of the year 2000.
Quist and Martin, both 21, began with the premise that the American news media was responsible for drumming up false hysteria about Y2K.
"They were just trying to scare people," Martin said. "The media is able to create hype and form public thinking."
"The media is really the conflict in the film," Quist added.
"Some people were really tripped out about it," he said. "We're trying to bring people back to that time and that frame of mind and show that it was all just hype."
Martin, a junior business major, has been out of school for a year and a half to work on the film. He's planning on returning to Western winter quarter. Quist is taking two full years off from his interdisciplinary studies at New York's Long Island University.
Quist said he got the idea for the film about two years ago.
"I was at this garage sale looking at a book called 'A Day in the Life of America,' which sent out 200 photographers all over the country to shoot a 24-hour period of time," he said. "I thought, why not do this same idea but with video? I was thinking, where could you apply this to a date or an event that everybody's gonna remember. With this, you'll remember what you were doing at a certain time and you can see what the rest of America was doing."
Quist said he knew he couldn't undertake such a project himself, so he asked Martin, a friend since middle school, if he were interested. Martin immediately said he was, and the two set out to find their subjects.
Quist said he originally had been thinking of covering about 10 different people, but they eventually decided it was better to tell a few in-depth stories.
"In documentaries, what works best is the close, personal stories," Quist said. "We decided to narrow it down so the audience really feels a connection to the story."
They said they had several vague categories of people they wanted to include. They wanted someone who feared the coming of the new millennium, someone who is a religious person, someone who worked with computers and a basic party animal.
"It was also really important that a native American be part of it," Martin said. "If we're telling a story about America, we'd better tell the whole story."
Albert White Hat Sr., a Lakota/Sioux elder in South Dakota filled that requirement.
Joining him were a Wiccan priestess at a Y2K-ready commune in Arizona, the Reverend Billy, a New York performance artist and leader of The Church of Stop Shopping and Keng, the dreadlocked frontman for a New Orleans funk band.
A story about computer programmers in Boston fell through at the last minute, as did Quist's assignment, which was to chronicle a baby born in the first hours of the new millennium in Seattle.
None of the expectant mothers were willing to be filmed, he said.
Quist, Martin and four other directors each headed up their own film crews. Martin was in charge of the crew filming in Arizona.
After filming, they said they took time off for some much-needed rest. They resumed in February and began plowing through more than 120 hours of material, trying to whittle it all down to a 90-minute film.
"The filming was the easy part," Quist said. "The hard part has been taking these four stories and turning them into one flowing narrative.
"It's been a full-time thing. It's taking up 95 percent of my daily energy. I wake up to it, I go to sleep with it, it's on my mind day in and day out."
"You get to know these characters so well," Martin said, "You want to make sure that their stories are told well."
They have also had to devote much of their time piecing together funding for the film.
"The money issue has been huge," Quist said.
They were able to start the project with a $20,000 loan from families and small investors. They've kept it afloat on maxed-out credit cards and more loans. They have also sold percentages of future profits to investors.
So far, the project has cost around $200,000, Martin said.
They said they're absolutely confident they will be able to pay back all creditors after the film is finished.
"We're not sweating the money down the road," Quist said. "We sweat finding the $5,000 we need to pay our music guy or whatever. We've promised a lot of money that we don't have to get things done right now. I've looked people in the eye and said, 'I'll get you the money. I'll get on my knees and find a way to get you that money.' It's been a perpetual struggle."
They said they have learned the importance of good presentation when it comes to their film and themselves.
They produced a seven-minute trailer, which they sent to potential investors. The trailer can also be seen on their Web site, www.adayinthehype.com, along with information on them, on the project and on the people in the film.
"If we're going to get anywhere with this, we have to present ourselves as professionals and not as 21-year-old kids," Quist said. "Otherwise, people aren't gonna give you the time of day."
Martin said the project has been pushed back several times, but they are planning on a debut in Seattle next February.