For a growing number of local filmmakers, 10 p.m. on the third Friday of every month is zero hour for brilliance, or failure, or perhaps a bit of both.

With the arrival of a simple text message from Tory Tukuafu, founder of the Showdown in Chinatown 24-hour film contest, as many as a dozen mini-production teams are mobilized in an operation where controlled hysteria is assured and only the hardy live to screen their tales.

The basic idea, borrowed from similar competitions on the Mainland, is simple. Competing film teams have 24 hours to conceive, script, shoot and edit a three- to five-minute film. The official deadline is 10 p.m. Saturday, when filmmakers and film buffs gather at night spot and gallery thirtyninehotel to screen the shorts and vie for the grand prize: a round of drinks.

To prevent people from submitting work they've already done, each of the films must in some way reflect the theme of the month and contain at least a brief shot of two specific objects. The theme and objects are revealed via text message and online at the start of the contest.

Given the narrow window of time, many teams hold an immediate production meeting to flesh out a story and write a quick screenplay. Many will film from the wee hours to the following afternoon, with a furious round of editing and sound mixing to follow. It's not unusual for teams to submit their film with just minutes to spare; each week, at least a handful of teams won't make it in time.

And while the competition is all in fun, most teams take it as seriously as any other high-stakes creative endeavor. Some sketch out ideas and variations of ideas days in advance to have something from which to draw once the assignment is given. Some obtain filming permits in advance so they'll have a location secured, even if they don't know what the story will be.

And then there's David Merritt, Fabio Cardoso and Blake Petersen, the unfussed among the nonplussed.

An hour before the start of last month's Showdown, the trio is happily up in the air about their game plan.

The text message will arrive when?

"I'm not sure," says Merritt, 26. "Maybe 9:30? I don't remember. Ten?"

And the first order of business will be what?

"We'll probably get together at Blake's house and toss around ideas," Merritt says, slowly, as though testing the sound of it. "Or maybe we'll go somewhere and talk about it over a drink."

The group won the previous month's Showdown with its inspired short film, "Now Chicky Now," a darkly comic piece involving a puppet pig, a plastic chick, a dark closet and one very disturbed man.

Working off the theme "Secret Societies," they came up with a basic story that night and Cardoso, 28, wrote the dialogue the next morning. They shot the scenes at Cardoso's Portlock home from 3 to 6 p.m., and collectively edited the film in three hours. Roughly half of the final product was conceived during the filming.

"We know each other, and I think we know how to do this," Cardoso says. "There isn't a lot of stress."

DREAMING UP A SCRIPT

The text arrives shortly before 10 p.m., bringing with it a broad range of possibilities. The theme for the month is "Dreams." The objects to be included are a cigarette and a knife.

Merritt's group, with wives and girlfriend in tow, convenes at Petersen's Makiki apartment for what they hope will be a quick brainstorming session.

"We fight to throw in our ideas and convince the others," Petersen says of the process.

Merritt: "We have about an hour and a half to shoot ideas around."

Cardoso: "It's three egos battling for power."

Nearing midnight, the process has proved less than perfectly productive. Despite lively discussion, the three filmmakers are dissatisfied with their one concrete scene: a crazy guy smoking a cigarette with his butt.

"The theme and the props aren't limiting," says Petersen, 28. "They're too free. With a theme like 'dream,' you can do anything."

The discussion continues, often flowing back to the premise of a man, who may or may not be dreaming, moving through the world at a different speed, unable to interact with other people, performing a string of curious (but highly visual) acts.

"But it's not a story," Merritt sighs.

CLOCK IS TICKING

In its first year, Showdown at Chinatown has attracted filmmakers of all pedigrees, from high schoolers to local indie directors to several "Lost" crew members. Former "Lost" actress Michelle Rodriguez even shot a film, though she didn't screen it.

"It's liberating," says commercial director and filmmaker Brett Wagner. "On the commercial level, you can get kind of precious with your planning. With this, you have no idea what you are going to do going in.

"You'd assume that these films would be bad," he says. "But ... people have done some really impressive work in that short amount of time."

That's little assurance for Merritt, Cardoso and Petersen, who find themselves huddled in a room in Cardoso's house at 3 p.m. Saturday, still bouncing around ideas. Cardoso had gotten up at 6:30 a.m. to start on a script but found himself with "a lot of little visual things" but still no story.

They reconvened at noon, only to pick up the conversation much where they left it the previous night. Still, they did shoot a couple of scenes — one with the lead character, Cardoso, slicing and eating a cigarette — to kick-start the process.

The group has several scenes in mind. Collectively, the ideas suggest a narrative, but not enough to constitute a cohesive story: A man receives a mysterious box in the mail, he behaves strangely, he receives a call about a free gift on its way, he collapses, he collapses in reverse — in no particular order just yet.

"It feels like each scene is visual, but there's nothing connecting it yet," says Merritt, whose mood is wilting with the afternoon heat.

The revised schedule now allows for just two hours of shooting. The group films a scene in which Cardoso opens the mysterious box in a darkened room in the carport. They film another with Cardoso collapsing in the living room.

"Let's do it in reverse," Petersen says.

Cardoso recoils from a supine position, rises slowly backwards, then retraces his earlier staggering steps back to the kitchen — a one-take classic.

"Who is this guy?" Petersen yells.

COMING TOGETHER

Merritt, Cardoso and Petersen have all made their way through art school with studies in film, theater, media arts, screenwriting and other useful disciplines. All three are relatively recent Hawai'i residents who met while working for UI Productions, a local company that specializes in wedding videography.

The job has proved surprisingly valuable for their Showdown exercises. Each is comfortable with shooting on hand-held digital video cameras and, most important, each can work quickly, sculpting meaningful narratives from hours of disjointed video.

"I'm relaxed now," Merritt says as the group gathers around Cardoso's computer to review what they've shot. "We can be totally weird, totally experimental. Let's just find the narrative in the editing."

IT'S SHOWTIME

Tukuafu, a former collegiate volleyball standout for the University of Hawai'i and now part of the "Lost" camera crew, created Showdown in Chinatown to motivate himself and other rising filmmakers.

"Everybody would talk about what they wanted to do, what kind of film they want to make," he says. "I got tired of talking. With the technology we have available, anybody can make a movie relatively cheaply. This is my way of saying, 'Enough talking. Get out there and shoot and have some fun.' "

The Showdown events showcase two of Tukuafu's most notable skills: making movies and throwing parties. The Saturday night screening parties now attract upward of 150 people. The contest itself attracts up to a dozen groups per month.

Tukuafu got his first taste of the film business as a stunt double for Duane "The Rock" Johnson in "The Rundown." He spent three years in Los Angeles gaining practical experience behind the camera before returning to Hawai'i to work on "Lost."

Tukuafu has big dreams for his pet project. A partnership with one of the local film festivals, perhaps. Maybe a Mainland tour with local contests adding regional flavors to the mix?

For now, Showdown in Chinatown is making an impact by fostering a sense of unity among local filmmakers. Where else in Honolulu might recent Mililani High School graduates — like Michael Broady and Caleb Manibog — rub elbows with industry veterans such as Don Brown?

And, as Petersen says, "This forces all of us, every month, to go out and do it. It builds on that whole, weird creative process and the venue of the bar is so informal that you don't take it so seriously. Once it's done, it's done."

And Petersen and his pals are definitely done for this month. The editing process went by smoothly and, as promised, the story did emerge in the editing.

Merritt arrives shortly before 10 p.m.; Petersen and Cardoso follow soon after.

"I might vomit," Cardoso jokes before the films are screened. "I hope they don't think it's too experimental."

While they eventually lose their first title defense to a group led by Cinema Paradise's Chris Kahunahana, the reaction to their film is enthusiastic.

"You have to do small before you get to do big," says Petersen. "This gives us a chance to test things out, to experiment and have a good time doing it."

Reach Michael Tsai at mtsai@honoluluadvertiser.com.