I sometimes wonder how many people in Hollywood (or anywhere, for that matter) have actually heard the term “Dustbuster” before. I certainly hadn’t, at least not until I started working as a post-production assistant. Unless you really studied these things in college, it’s only once you start to work for (or with) a production company do you truly understand just how many different types of film and television production jobs there really are.

“Dustbuster” was the loose name given to the job of digital colorist assist-assist, though the job title was not exactly accurate (in fact, it always seemed an afterthought, something to give us some sort of hierarchy within the company). I mean, we were working a film post-production job, in an assistant capacity, beneath the Colorist Assists, so I suppose you could give us that particularly cumbersome label. However, to save time and spare confusion, I and my fellow workers were called dustbusters, as we were literally responsible for removing dust (as well as scratches, and blotches) from every single frame of every single film the company took on. The colorists needed an impeccably pristine “canvas” with which to do their work, and that’s where we came in.

The process for cleaning film is simple enough to describe on the surface: they would scan the film digitally, and would then send the files to the main computers in our workspace. The film was then broken up into sections, with each section typically assigned to one of the nine or so workstations. Each workstation was loaded with the company’s proprietary software program, which would run the film frame by frame, shot by shot, and scene by scene. The dustbusters would then literally clean the film, by digitally removing every scratch or hair or discoloration. We did this by surrounding the offending mark with a box, which would then scan the next frame for a similar image to render. If there was little movement, the job was simple; if there was a lot of movement, we then had to tweak the box to get it as close as possible to blemish-free.

If this sounds mundane, it’s because it was. An eight hour shift, locked in a small, dark, windowless room, working at a cubicle, and staring at the same couple of thousand frames of film all day isn’t exactly how I would describe the fun side of Hollywood. But more than that, it served to illustrate just how many production jobs there truly are, and how varied they can be. Now, whenever I look at a film’s budget, I can’t help but be impressed by the number of people working behind the scenes, on the smallest details, people whose names will never appear in the credits; I think of the countless production companies, each specializing in an aspect of the filmmaking process. And I marvel at just how big and yet small this town can feel.