So I found myself in Eastern Europe working on an action film.
I was behind the scenes, and sometimes in them, watching closely and trying not to knock over any birdcages. Our Star had made his name on this type of all-action, fighting show. He used to have a pony-tail. These days, there is just a sort of smoothed-out ridge, resembling a vivisected duck glued to the back of his head. And after make-up, his face now looks like a crumbling Mayan temple. But I think he is happy, and he was an excellent ringmaster for my account, all of which is true.
Day 1
“Get him to come and tell us the history of crippled Barbers with Kanji!”
It’s two o’clock and we haven’t filmed anything. There was mass confusion over the fight scene we were supposed to shoot. The actor who plays the Barber apparently is not a martial artist, and even if he was, no one seems to know what his set piece with the star should look like. In the script the scene is described as follows:
“THE BARBER IS A MASTER. VIDEO GAME STYLE FIGHT. THE BARBER BEING AN ELUSIVE TARGET FLIPPING AND SOMMERSAULTING AROUND THE ROOM.”
Speaking to our Barber before the scene, I find he’s a very nice bloke from Liverpool. He doesn’t do action scenes, although he has played in a band for many years. On the “video-game” Matrix-beating sequence they have lined up for him, he said:
“I am 56, if they want me to hit him over the head with a guitar, then that’s fine!”
His stunt double doesn’t look anything like him. Add to that, the star is not well so we don’t know if he will come out of his trailer. Add further to that, our Director came up with a brand new concept for the scene the night before. His idea is that one of the Chinese fighters smashes a mirror, and in the next shot, he has morphed into a completely different character (for no apparent reason).
The Director then said:
“Maybe, I’m losing my mind, I don’t know.”
So on the day of the shoot, we have a Chinese fight co-ordinator who doesn’t speak English. Our American stunt co-ordinator, who karate chops and hugs everyone. The star who speaks a form of English. And the Director in his black leather gloves. All of them have different ideas for the choreography of the sequence. Eventually the star comes up with how he wants to shoot it. This prompts an urgent meeting of the Producers in the main office.
Meanwhile, our 15 Chinese extras, who were on stand-by the day before and unused, are sitting around eating sandwiches and dreaming they were on a Jacky Chan movie. At that moment I also would give anything to be working on Rush Hour III. If this guy made Rush Hour, if would have to be called “24”.
Eventually, they decide the change the scene, and bring in an assistant Barber, who will take care of the acrobatic, chopping and flying. They wonder whether to make the original character a cripple, to explain why he can’t fight like a “Master” any more. There is some debate on whether the star’s character should kill the original Barber:
“So he breaks the neck of the Crippled Barber, that’s going be good for publicity.”
We spent the next two days filming the karate in the shop, without the star who has flu. We shoot with his stunt double (local), and a Chinese fighter with a pointy, Mr Miyagi-style, beard, and a very expressive face.
He is also very good at being flung at walls with wires attached to his groin. Which is handy because this is what does for most of his 12 hour day. I make the suggestion that a price list should be clearly visible on the wall of the Barber- shop, something like:
SHORT BACK AND SIDES $10
BLOW DRY AND SHAMPOO $25
EXTENDED FIGHT SEQUENCE $150
They don’t laugh. Perhaps I will get fired.
Note to self: learn some Bulgarian instead of saying “Very gud, Very gud” in a Russian/Pakistani accent all the time.
Wednesday, 21 April 2010
Thursday, 11 January 2007
Day 29
Note to self: Always have a job where you can sneak off and read in an Opium Den or a Tattoo parlour.
This is my last day working on the film.
We had a whole day at the studio to get pick-up shots from scenes we couldn’t finish because the Star wasn’t around.
Everyone is in a good mood. Partly because the end is near: salvation and sleep! And partly because the second unit were filming in the mountains today and they faced side-ways snow, sleet and buttock-freezing conditions.
The fact that we are here inside the studio, means we avoided that particular short straw.
Earlier in the shoot, there had been my favourite little action of the film. The Star’s character is brutalising a room full of people again, and the Chinese bad guy, who he is after-notices him:
“LI HO; Realizing who he’s up against, he…
DIVES STRAIGHT THROUGH A WINDOW.”
Looking back, I run a similar scene in my head. The Star walks on set for the first time:
“CREW AND PRODUCERS; Realizing who they are working with
SIMULTANEOUSLY DIVE THROUGH WINDOWS.”
It has been a real experience. Chaotic at times, but you couldn’t help but be impressed by the professionalism and hard work of the crew and their warmth. I even feel oddly sympathetic with our Star. The way he behaves reveals insecurity more than anything. And this is what stars are meant to do, isn’t it?
We had a photographic double for the Star. His name was George. He is the most blank-faced person I have ever met. He always looks like he has a mouth full of lemons and he’s being forced to watch an endless loop of Michael Winner films. Through every scene, on everyday, at every location, George was there; his expression the same. Dressed in the same garb as the star, he would step-in to be filmed from behind, sometimes performing the actions.
Whatever the situation: Mad Monks, bare breasts, Monkey Barbers, exploding pigs, Tibetan philosophy; George was there; face perma-frozen in absolute misery. He was an antidote to all the surrealism around him and an extraordinary achievement: finding someone with less expression than our Star.
(C.)JMessias 2002
Note to self: Always have a job where you can sneak off and read in an Opium Den or a Tattoo parlour.
This is my last day working on the film.
We had a whole day at the studio to get pick-up shots from scenes we couldn’t finish because the Star wasn’t around.
Everyone is in a good mood. Partly because the end is near: salvation and sleep! And partly because the second unit were filming in the mountains today and they faced side-ways snow, sleet and buttock-freezing conditions.
The fact that we are here inside the studio, means we avoided that particular short straw.
Earlier in the shoot, there had been my favourite little action of the film. The Star’s character is brutalising a room full of people again, and the Chinese bad guy, who he is after-notices him:
“LI HO; Realizing who he’s up against, he…
DIVES STRAIGHT THROUGH A WINDOW.”
Looking back, I run a similar scene in my head. The Star walks on set for the first time:
“CREW AND PRODUCERS; Realizing who they are working with
SIMULTANEOUSLY DIVE THROUGH WINDOWS.”
It has been a real experience. Chaotic at times, but you couldn’t help but be impressed by the professionalism and hard work of the crew and their warmth. I even feel oddly sympathetic with our Star. The way he behaves reveals insecurity more than anything. And this is what stars are meant to do, isn’t it?
We had a photographic double for the Star. His name was George. He is the most blank-faced person I have ever met. He always looks like he has a mouth full of lemons and he’s being forced to watch an endless loop of Michael Winner films. Through every scene, on everyday, at every location, George was there; his expression the same. Dressed in the same garb as the star, he would step-in to be filmed from behind, sometimes performing the actions.
Whatever the situation: Mad Monks, bare breasts, Monkey Barbers, exploding pigs, Tibetan philosophy; George was there; face perma-frozen in absolute misery. He was an antidote to all the surrealism around him and an extraordinary achievement: finding someone with less expression than our Star.
(C.)JMessias 2002
Day 27
We joke that everyone on this shoot looks (and behaves) according to stereotype. The Director of Photography looks exactly as a DOP should-with regulation goatee, intelligent eyes and L.A. demeanour. The writer: likewise with his black-rimmed glasses, backwards cap and baggy trousers.
The Director: with his fat cigars, and arrogant air. And then of course, there is the Star, who is very tall, struts around in tunics and behaves like a complete….
We joke that everyone on this shoot looks (and behaves) according to stereotype. The Director of Photography looks exactly as a DOP should-with regulation goatee, intelligent eyes and L.A. demeanour. The writer: likewise with his black-rimmed glasses, backwards cap and baggy trousers.
The Director: with his fat cigars, and arrogant air. And then of course, there is the Star, who is very tall, struts around in tunics and behaves like a complete….
Day 6
Second Unit. We are again shooting the Monk fight, this time with stunt doubles replacing our star. He only has to kill two Monks.
Day 7
The second monk isn’t dead yet. Either this monk is going to have the longest death sequence since Burt Reynolds’s career, or we are going to finish early. He has a sword sticking out his back (an Exit Wound, if you like) and the stunt co-ordinator says we still have 20 more set-ups to do!
“Well, isn’t he nearly dead, yet, he doesn’t look too well!?”
“We are going to kill him from many different angles!”
Where’s Meg Ryan in this scene I think to myself.
We finish early.
Second Unit. We are again shooting the Monk fight, this time with stunt doubles replacing our star. He only has to kill two Monks.
Day 7
The second monk isn’t dead yet. Either this monk is going to have the longest death sequence since Burt Reynolds’s career, or we are going to finish early. He has a sword sticking out his back (an Exit Wound, if you like) and the stunt co-ordinator says we still have 20 more set-ups to do!
“Well, isn’t he nearly dead, yet, he doesn’t look too well!?”
“We are going to kill him from many different angles!”
Where’s Meg Ryan in this scene I think to myself.
We finish early.
Day 5
The Star is a practising Buddhist, right? You might think the following sequence would clash with his beliefs then:
THE MONK SUDDENLY SPINS, ATTACKING HIM.
A SECOND MONK JOINS IN. HE KILLS THE FIRST MONK.
HE KILLS THE SECOND MONK.
When we shoot the scene it looks good on the video monitor.
The setting is a funeral parlour, with mock marble columns, burning incense and a shrine dedicated to the young girl who has been killed by the bad guys. There is a quiet moment of contemplation for the main character, involving incense and some mumbling in Chinese. Then a flash of light. Then two mad monks, dressed in orange tunics, jump into frame and attack the star with swords.
He does his own stunt work in this bit and, credit where credit is due, he pulls off some nifty moves, swivelling and parrying the attacks from the sword-fighters. The fellas who play the monks are actually the same fighters used in earlier scenes. Minutes before the cameras rolled the makeup department were frantically shaving their heads to turn killer “monkey barbers” into deadly monks. The Magic of Movies.
I wasn’t quite sure where these assassins came from, plot-wise.
But you can always assume a team of homicidal monks are hanging around in the neighbourhood, in this star’s movies. Maybe that explains his permanently constipated look.
The Star is a practising Buddhist, right? You might think the following sequence would clash with his beliefs then:
THE MONK SUDDENLY SPINS, ATTACKING HIM.
A SECOND MONK JOINS IN. HE KILLS THE FIRST MONK.
HE KILLS THE SECOND MONK.
When we shoot the scene it looks good on the video monitor.
The setting is a funeral parlour, with mock marble columns, burning incense and a shrine dedicated to the young girl who has been killed by the bad guys. There is a quiet moment of contemplation for the main character, involving incense and some mumbling in Chinese. Then a flash of light. Then two mad monks, dressed in orange tunics, jump into frame and attack the star with swords.
He does his own stunt work in this bit and, credit where credit is due, he pulls off some nifty moves, swivelling and parrying the attacks from the sword-fighters. The fellas who play the monks are actually the same fighters used in earlier scenes. Minutes before the cameras rolled the makeup department were frantically shaving their heads to turn killer “monkey barbers” into deadly monks. The Magic of Movies.
I wasn’t quite sure where these assassins came from, plot-wise.
But you can always assume a team of homicidal monks are hanging around in the neighbourhood, in this star’s movies. Maybe that explains his permanently constipated look.
Day 3
We are on location. The mini-bus takes us to a place up in the mountains. It is a semi-active Army base with miles and miles of empty space for shooting-in both senses of the word. When I arrive, First-unit shooting has already begun. We drive up a long path, which goes up a sharp incline. At the top is a large barbed-wire fence. There are some guards there and an enormous Chinese flag. Even with my grasp of geography, I realise we haven’t reached the Chinese/Kazakhstan border. When we get to the gate shooting is about to begin, so they do look angry that our bus has arrived. As we get waived through I almost check my papers and expect a mild beating.
Surveying the scene, our production people have built a dig site for an Archaeology sequence and a Chinese Army hut for two big stunts.
It is quite idyllic. It is October-the month the place is supposed to turn Siberian but lo and behold: We have sunshine and heat! We have an unblemished blue sky and a gentle breeze. I am circled by wild mountain puppies looking for scraps of food (honestly).
And we are here “to blow shit up!”
Our explosives man is a short guy called Vasko (helpfully people call him Vasko Boom!). He’s friendly, with a bushy grey beard-sort of an abbreviated Richard Attenborough; which is why he looks rather sweet with his rocket launchers, detonators and explosives.
His team are hard at work preparing the stunt bombs. These are a series of packages that look like Edam cheeses of various sizes. The biggest one is the size of a good melon. This baby is going to blow the Chinese officers’ hut: the money shot of the day.
Right now, I am waiting for instructions; they aren’t many extras on call (my main duty) so I am kicking my heels and the sun has made me mischievous. The action is being shot about half a mile away, over the hill. I get on the walkie-talkie the guy above me in the AD department:
“This is Johnny. Ok, so I have strapped all the explosives to my waist, what should I do next?”
“Er, just come here.”
He can’t have understood me. Perhaps I will get fired. Kylie is on the radio.
We are on location. The mini-bus takes us to a place up in the mountains. It is a semi-active Army base with miles and miles of empty space for shooting-in both senses of the word. When I arrive, First-unit shooting has already begun. We drive up a long path, which goes up a sharp incline. At the top is a large barbed-wire fence. There are some guards there and an enormous Chinese flag. Even with my grasp of geography, I realise we haven’t reached the Chinese/Kazakhstan border. When we get to the gate shooting is about to begin, so they do look angry that our bus has arrived. As we get waived through I almost check my papers and expect a mild beating.
Surveying the scene, our production people have built a dig site for an Archaeology sequence and a Chinese Army hut for two big stunts.
It is quite idyllic. It is October-the month the place is supposed to turn Siberian but lo and behold: We have sunshine and heat! We have an unblemished blue sky and a gentle breeze. I am circled by wild mountain puppies looking for scraps of food (honestly).
And we are here “to blow shit up!”
Our explosives man is a short guy called Vasko (helpfully people call him Vasko Boom!). He’s friendly, with a bushy grey beard-sort of an abbreviated Richard Attenborough; which is why he looks rather sweet with his rocket launchers, detonators and explosives.
His team are hard at work preparing the stunt bombs. These are a series of packages that look like Edam cheeses of various sizes. The biggest one is the size of a good melon. This baby is going to blow the Chinese officers’ hut: the money shot of the day.
Right now, I am waiting for instructions; they aren’t many extras on call (my main duty) so I am kicking my heels and the sun has made me mischievous. The action is being shot about half a mile away, over the hill. I get on the walkie-talkie the guy above me in the AD department:
“This is Johnny. Ok, so I have strapped all the explosives to my waist, what should I do next?”
“Er, just come here.”
He can’t have understood me. Perhaps I will get fired. Kylie is on the radio.
The Diary Then
So I found myself in Eastern Europe working on an action film.
I was behind the scenes, and sometimes in them, watching closely and trying not to knock over any birdcages. Our Star had made his name on this type of all-action, fighting show. He used to have a pony-tail. These days, there is just a sort of smoothed-out ridge, resembling a vivisected duck glued to the back of his head. And after make-up, his face now looks like a crumbling Mayan temple. But I think he is happy, and he was an excellent ringmaster for my account, all of which is true.
Day 1
“Get him to come and tell us the history of crippled Barbers with Kanji!”
It’s two o’clock and we haven’t filmed anything. There was mass confusion over the fight scene we were supposed to shoot. The actor who plays the Barber apparently is not a martial artist, and even if he was, no one seems to know what his set piece with the star should look like. In the script the scene is described as follows:
“THE BARBER IS A MASTER. VIDEO GAME STYLE FIGHT. THE BARBER BEING AN ELUSIVE TARGET FLIPPING AND SOMMERSAULTING AROUND THE ROOM.”
Speaking to our Barber before the scene, I find he’s a very nice bloke from Liverpool. He doesn’t do action scenes, although he has played in a band for many years. On the “video-game” Matrix-beating sequence they have lined up for him, he said:
“I am 56, if they want me to hit him over the head with a guitar, then that’s fine!”
His stunt double doesn’t look anything like him. Add to that, the star is not well so we don’t know if he will come out of his trailer. Add further to that, our Director came up with a brand new concept for the scene the night before. His idea is that one of the Chinese fighters smashes a mirror, and in the next shot, he has morphed into a completely different character (for no apparent reason).
The Director then said:
“Maybe, I’m losing my mind, I don’t know.”
So on the day of the shoot, we have a Chinese fight co-ordinator who doesn’t speak English. Our American stunt co-ordinator, who karate chops and hugs everyone. The star who speaks a form of English. And the Director in his black leather gloves. All of them have different ideas for the choreography of the sequence. Eventually the star comes up with how he wants to shoot it. This prompts an urgent meeting of the Producers in the main office.
Meanwhile, our 15 Chinese extras, who were on stand-by the day before and unused, are sitting around eating sandwiches and dreaming they were on a Jacky Chan movie. At that moment I also would give anything to be working on Rush Hour III. If this guy made Rush Hour, if would have to be called “24”.
Eventually, they decide the change the scene, and bring in an assistant Barber, who will take care of the acrobatic, chopping and flying. They wonder whether to make the original character a cripple, to explain why he can’t fight like a “Master” any more. There is some debate on whether the star’s character should kill the original Barber:
“So he breaks the neck of the Crippled Barber, that’s going be good for publicity.”
We spent the next two days filming the karate in the shop, without the star who has flu. We shoot with his stunt double (local), and a Chinese fighter with a pointy, Mr Miyagi-style, beard, and a very expressive face.
He is also very good at being flung at walls with wires attached to his groin. Which is handy because this is what does for most of his 12 hour day. I make the suggestion that a price list should be clearly visible on the wall of the Barber- shop, something like:
SHORT BACK AND SIDES $10
BLOW DRY AND SHAMPOO $25
EXTENDED FIGHT SEQUENCE $150
They don’t laugh. Perhaps I will get fired.
Note to self: learn some Bulgarian instead of saying “Very gud, Very gud” in a Russian/Pakistani accent all the time.
I was behind the scenes, and sometimes in them, watching closely and trying not to knock over any birdcages. Our Star had made his name on this type of all-action, fighting show. He used to have a pony-tail. These days, there is just a sort of smoothed-out ridge, resembling a vivisected duck glued to the back of his head. And after make-up, his face now looks like a crumbling Mayan temple. But I think he is happy, and he was an excellent ringmaster for my account, all of which is true.
Day 1
“Get him to come and tell us the history of crippled Barbers with Kanji!”
It’s two o’clock and we haven’t filmed anything. There was mass confusion over the fight scene we were supposed to shoot. The actor who plays the Barber apparently is not a martial artist, and even if he was, no one seems to know what his set piece with the star should look like. In the script the scene is described as follows:
“THE BARBER IS A MASTER. VIDEO GAME STYLE FIGHT. THE BARBER BEING AN ELUSIVE TARGET FLIPPING AND SOMMERSAULTING AROUND THE ROOM.”
Speaking to our Barber before the scene, I find he’s a very nice bloke from Liverpool. He doesn’t do action scenes, although he has played in a band for many years. On the “video-game” Matrix-beating sequence they have lined up for him, he said:
“I am 56, if they want me to hit him over the head with a guitar, then that’s fine!”
His stunt double doesn’t look anything like him. Add to that, the star is not well so we don’t know if he will come out of his trailer. Add further to that, our Director came up with a brand new concept for the scene the night before. His idea is that one of the Chinese fighters smashes a mirror, and in the next shot, he has morphed into a completely different character (for no apparent reason).
The Director then said:
“Maybe, I’m losing my mind, I don’t know.”
So on the day of the shoot, we have a Chinese fight co-ordinator who doesn’t speak English. Our American stunt co-ordinator, who karate chops and hugs everyone. The star who speaks a form of English. And the Director in his black leather gloves. All of them have different ideas for the choreography of the sequence. Eventually the star comes up with how he wants to shoot it. This prompts an urgent meeting of the Producers in the main office.
Meanwhile, our 15 Chinese extras, who were on stand-by the day before and unused, are sitting around eating sandwiches and dreaming they were on a Jacky Chan movie. At that moment I also would give anything to be working on Rush Hour III. If this guy made Rush Hour, if would have to be called “24”.
Eventually, they decide the change the scene, and bring in an assistant Barber, who will take care of the acrobatic, chopping and flying. They wonder whether to make the original character a cripple, to explain why he can’t fight like a “Master” any more. There is some debate on whether the star’s character should kill the original Barber:
“So he breaks the neck of the Crippled Barber, that’s going be good for publicity.”
We spent the next two days filming the karate in the shop, without the star who has flu. We shoot with his stunt double (local), and a Chinese fighter with a pointy, Mr Miyagi-style, beard, and a very expressive face.
He is also very good at being flung at walls with wires attached to his groin. Which is handy because this is what does for most of his 12 hour day. I make the suggestion that a price list should be clearly visible on the wall of the Barber- shop, something like:
SHORT BACK AND SIDES $10
BLOW DRY AND SHAMPOO $25
EXTENDED FIGHT SEQUENCE $150
They don’t laugh. Perhaps I will get fired.
Note to self: learn some Bulgarian instead of saying “Very gud, Very gud” in a Russian/Pakistani accent all the time.
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