First Pass: Utter despair. Overwhelming sense of total failure.
Second Pass: Spirits lift. Film may not be complete turkey after all.
Third Pass: Be brutal! Trim everything!
Fourth Pass: Even more brutal! Trim more!
Fifth Pass: What were we thinking? Put everything back again, only longer and more drawn-out this time.
Sixth Pass: Aimless tinkering. Long and earnest discussions over such things as whether to include a perfectly harmless cutaway of a wallaby or not. He had chanced to hop by the second unit crew, and upon realising he had attracted their attention, proceeded to assume some thoughtful poses; gazing pensively out to sea, sniffing the air as if sensing impending storm etc etc “He has no relevance”, decrees Denise, and wallaby hits the cutting room floor so fast his head spins.
7th pass: Now find ourselves cutting for the sheep’s reactions, not the actors. “Hold that a little longer!” I cry from my position deep within the couch cushions. “See how Sausage is turning his head as if he is looking at the steamer too?” Shoulders tensing, Denise grudgingly does as she is bid. And it sort of works, at least if you are looking at Sausage and not Miranda, busily emoting her socks off in foreground. Although even I must eventually concede that perhaps it looks more like Sausage might be turning about to scratch himself. Which in fact he was. But, as Denise will readily attest, I am always the first to cheerfully admit whenever I am wrong.