Finding My Test Reel Filming Stride - Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 26

(Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 25 - March 18, 2026)

The Rehab Addict DVDs, sent to me from the show’s production company in Minnesota, had arrived without any note or instructions. Because of this, I watched and considered them as some sort of general prep preceding the film crew being flown in to meet up with me. I’d set aside two full days for these visitors to capture footage of me walking and talking for what the network director had called a “test reel,” what her assignee called "the sizzle.”

Leading up to this Thursday/Friday filming, arrangements had been made to begin at an architectural salvage operation in North Charleston. These plans had been a collaborative effort between me, the warehouse owner, and young lady introduced as “the showrunner”—a job title I’d never heard before but one I appreciated a lot because it felt like an insider sort of term. To me, this preliminary effort felt like a friendly indicator that I was stepping into something worthwhile.

Buying a house involves a lot of people, often strangers, working together—buyer and seller, realtors, inspectors, closing attorneys and paralegals, and sometimes bank reps. And once into the renovating, there is scheduling and coordinating, weaving of a long collection of vendors, subcontractors, tradespeople, and inspectors with me directing the activities and answering questions as needed beginning to end. So, for this experience to start off with comparable teamwork, with producers in New York, Minnesota, and Los Angeles working with me, it seemed auspicious and eased my nerves.     

At the starting location, I met the four-person film team. Along with the young woman in charge, there was a cameraman, an audio technician, and the crew’s grip—a biggin who looked like a former linebacker doing many nontechnical tasks and the bulk of production equipment schlepping. And the fifth person in the mix, the warehousing boss lady, lingered in the background, on standby to provide any support the crew might need.

Both the showrunner and guy operating the camera had come by way of Los Angeles. And something about their Hollywood good looks caused me to wonder if these heartbreakers had each headed to LA after high school and then snagged roles on the production side as means to pay bills between auditions and acting jobs. The audio tech looked brainier, sporting glasses and a knowing, yet friendly grin, while the heavy lifter turned out to be a fun-loving joker. All four of these producers were super cool, warm, and friendly with me, as if to say, “We just met you, but we’re your new temporary friends sent here to help you shine.”

*

The first part of filming the test reel was slow and building. I walked through the warehouse pointing at materials and fixtures as I described them. This wasn’t too tough, only a bit tricky since there was cluttered-up a randomness to the entire space. It was an inspiring setting for sure, but I had to watch myself as I moved about for the crew.

We progressed to what felt like more challenging trials or drills, with the showrunner directing me to walk down a specific aisle or size up a hanging fixture. Then they had me pick up and examine an item on a shelf, through a gap in a way that, if I did it correctly, would allow for the camera to frame me within a shot. I was able to do it as they’d hoped the first time, with reactions of smiles and one unhidden exhale. They’re rising buoyancy helped me settle in, allowing me to feel as if I was delivering for them on camera.

Midday, we traveled to the project house I’d own in a week. The real estate agents had coordinated with the seller, so we’d have access to the property for the remainder of the afternoon. After the crew and I ate our delivered lunches—deli sandwiches, chips, and drinks—I took them on a filmed tour of the house, inside and out, with me explaining what I intended to do and how I would do it. As it grew dark, preparations for my interview were made in the foyer.

It had been a long, full day, but I was feeling great, solid, comfortable. I was doing it, all these new and different things. I felt settled in, yet I was quiet, deep in thought as I took a seat on the provided stool as lights were positioned and then illuminated. Something about my expression, posture, or demeanor must have seemed less than enthusiastic, and the showrunner playfully said something like, “C’mon, Trent. Act like you’re a little excited about getting your own TV show.”

What is she talking about? I thought. My own show? Me?

(Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 26 - March 23, 2026)

Speaking with the Monster of Confidence - Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 24

(Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 23 - March 16, 2026)

If this is your first time reading any of this series, or you’ve missed, skipped, or fallen asleep reading previous posts, I’d like to provide a brief recap if you don’t have time to start at the beginning.

I buy and fix up old homes in the Berchador region of the South Carolina Lowcountry. My niche has been condemned and abandoned houses that some have compared to properties Nicole Curtis was taking on in her hit series Rehab Addict on HGTV and the DIY Network. In 2012 I wrote an article about her on this blog, and she read it before leaving a comment.

In September 2013, a Director of Original Programming and Development representing these networks invited me to send in an introductory video. These five or six minutes of amateurism made a good enough impression that the networks wanted to send people down to meet my family and me. They never said what it was for and I didn’t care because it was cool and fun and I was too flattered to ask a lot of questions. I just hoped to keep learning more about the world of television because it was all foreign to me, exciting and intriguing.

The actual day for the big visit would be settled after I spoke with the Minneapolis production company. Along with being eager to meet and work with a film team dispatched by the popular home improvement networks, it simply meant a lot to have them willing to invest time, attention, and resources on me for something the director called a “test reel.”

My wife Diann had been willing to speculate more than me, and her logic sounded reasonable. She thought the programming lead might be scouting for prospective shows, maybe for projects based around their rising star, Nicole Curtis. Maybe Team Rehab Addict was coming our way, to a warm weather site that would allow them to sidestep an upcoming Minnesota winter? Or was I being considered to be the featured homeowner explaining my hopes and plans for my next renovation?

It all sounded exciting, but I also wondered if I might be in the cross hairs for something else, maybe a network contest with other DIYers or perhaps part of an assembled crew assigned to a house with potential. Those sounded amazing too and I felt like I could really rock and roll on those sorts of opportunities.

I didn’t need to ask a lot of questions. I just wanted to experience more of this entertainment industry.

*

Although the director for HGTV/DIY in Manhattan described what
she wanted to produce as a “test reel” and wanted it done next week, the man representing the Minnesota production company was working off another set of plans.

They were unavailable next week. Instead, this guy wanted to come November 7^th and 8^th, closer to two weeks out to get footage for what he called the “sizzle reel.”

I told him I’d leave both days open.  

He seemed friendly enough, but more than excitement matching the director in New York, the overriding impression this fella gave off was monstrous confidence; sureness I found enviable. He was unwavering on what he and his company could do, proud of producing Rehab Addict. Their brief history was full of success. They had the recipe to the “secret sauce.” That was why the network was sending them to South Carolina.

We discussed my upcoming project and it’s closing on November 15^th, the week after his crew would come meet and film me.  

Then this monster of confidence asked me something like, “Do you think we could see it, inside?”

“Before I actually own it?” I asked.

That’s what he was hoping for. He mentioned walking the house with me, filming me talking about my plans for the redo.

I explained how I’d only been in it once, and then said something like, “I’ll get in there after we close. That’s when I’ll measure and draw it out. Then I’ll use that to start reworking it on paper.” I wanted him to temper his expectations and added, “Until then, there’s a lot I don’t know.” The house and before layouts were still on my horizon. There was so much to learn and understand.

Still, the MoC really wanted me to see if we could get in when they came down. So, I assured him that I’d call my realtor, explain the situation, and see if we could score some early access.

Before we ended the call, the Minnesota producer explained how he would not actually be coming, but that I would be in capable hands. Finally, this man asked for our home address, then advised me to be on the lookout for a package from them. He mentioned how they’d be DVDs he wanted me to watch before his people came to meet me in November.

And with that, the call ended. I had a date to mark on the calendar that I could now share with my wife and some marching orders to put me in motion. 

(Response to TV Show Viewers: Post 24 - March 18, 2026)