Color Me Sentimental

by Sean Donnelly

After sending my wife off to work and dropping Justin at his pre-school for the day I headed over to the Fort Green Brownstone to continue my coverage of A Rogue In Londinium. Once again the art department has turned the front parlor into Victoria’s bedroom in New York City. The room is less opulent than her London counterpart. It is no less impressive. I see Lisa, one of the art directors in the kitchen downing a tall cup of coffee and looking bleary-eyed. While we were outside shooting for two days they designed and dressed the room. Inquisitive, I began asking what reasons she had for this particular room and what is it exactly that she does.

“If you recall the London bedroom, the wallpaper was in a green floral scheme, brown bedspread with green highlights, green pillows, green floral rug, etc. I like to work with colors that reflect what is going on with the core reality of the character. It is Victoria’s bedroom. No one enters unless invited. Not even Charles. She is a very, very private person. On the outside she seems conservative, conventional, pragmatic. The room is a reflection of her heart. Various religious and spiritual icons are represented letting the audience know that she is somewhat progressive, non-judgmental and ecumenical in disposition and faith. The room is rich in color and in art. We can see that she feels things on a very deep level, on a heart level. The heart is where the vertical (spiritual) and the horizontal (material) planes intersect. There are red curtains and red pillows that hint at Victoria’s hidden passionate side. By the middle of the story she invites Richard into her room, i.e. into her heart. And this is the point where she trusts herself enough to let him express his gratitude and love. This is where the consummation of their feelings for each other takes place and this is also where the conception occurs---where heaven and earth meet.
In Victoria’s New York bedroom it is a place of escape and survival. We covered the walls in a red floral print, the windows in heavy red and gold damask curtains. It is about security, about stark reality, about the purely physical aspects of living day-to-day. She is pregnant and her health is at risk.” Lisa explains.
“STOP! Don’t tell me what happens. I want to watch the scene(s) unfold with fresh eyes.” I say.
“Okay, well getting back to the design I spoke with the director about some of the other elements. We didn’t want a totally red room. That could be misinterpreted as bordello-like. So we decided that Victoria’s bed would be covered in yellow/gold. Gold being the pinnacle of self-realization. The sheets would be green and so she would have to work through her heart to achieve her dreams.” Lisa said.
“This all sounds very woo-woo if you ask me. Do you really think people are going to get that?”
“You’d be surprised what people walk away with on a subconscious level. What we do is support the script and the character and we even ask the actors what they think since it effects them in a subtle way. That is what Art Therapy is about. Ask yourself why you like a certain painting? I bet it’s not because it is of any subject matter. It will be how the colors or tones are juxtaposed against each other supported by composition, line and strokes, impasto and glaze that bring up a visceral emotional reaction to that work of art. Go to the museum and see for yourself.” She challenges. “Check out Rothko and Van Gogh and really explain how you feel by looking at their work.”
“Okay, you’re on.” I reply.
I wander back to the green room where Ashley is pinning Rebecca into a lovely pink bustle gown. Thom is supervising since the dress was not tailored and doesn’t fit exactly right. Patrick is setting up the Jib arm and extension for the second scene. On the set Rebecca hits her mark and at that moment the sun beams in through the sheer curtains and illuminates her in a midday shimmering glow. Victoria gazes out over her new life in New York but her face betrays her tragic choice to try and save everyone but herself. At that moment something physically disconcerting happens and she must recover bent over and fragile, fear and sacrifice sweep across her face and the shot is done. The director quickly confers with Ms. Damon, camera resets and they shoot it again and again with different variations of emotional candor. I think I know what is coming and a sinking feeling washes over me.
William Laney walks in and his booming voice and intimidating stature command respect. He is playing Dr. Willoughby, an American physician tending to Victoria. I’ve seen Bill’s work and I wonder why the director did not utilize his talent with a bigger part. When I bring this up to Patrick he tells me that Bill is being considered for a much bigger role in their next project. “Besides, Bill works quite a bit and so we were happy he was able to come on board for this film.” He is perfect as Willoughby.
Jeremy Peterson a.k.a. Mrs. Hopkins has arrived along with Claire White who plays an attending nurse. Patrick, Thom and Eddie along with the other grips move the jib arm onto the set and commence a practice run. The move starts high up over the bed like a fly on the ceiling, then slowly moves down to a medium close up of Mrs. Hopkins sitting on the bed with Victoria’s semi-conscious head in her lap, the doctor and nurse helplessly observing a woman on the brink of death. Victoria has miscarried and is in the throes of hovering between worlds. As I watch the scene play through the monitor I am aware of how it is affecting me. A deep despair has taken root in my gut. Anyone who has kids can understand the immediate effect the loss of a child can have on one’s entire being. Just the tiniest hint of my wife losing our son, Justin is enough to make me bawl like a school girl and want to immediately drown my sorrows in strong liquor or become insanely obsessed with an activity like Forrest Gump and run across America. I watch as the director covers the scene and am intrigued with the way it moves. We only see Victoria for a moment in her dire state, but the camera holds on everyone else in the room. Jeremy’s performance as Mrs. Hopkins is particularly moving since she is for all intents and purposes a surrogate mother to Victoria. Watching her cling to a shred of hope and then let go all in silent, subtle moments is entrancing. The Doctor does not have to say a word to convey his sense of urgency and that decisive moment when everything that can possibly be done has been exhausted. And although we only see the nurse in this one scene Claire’s sympathy and innocence brings the scene home. I wonder if this is it for Victoria. I don't want her character to die. I feel kind of silly since I know it is all part of movie illusion but these guys do it so well. Perhaps, Lisa is onto something. These things wash in through the subconscious and intellectually I wonder why I'm feeling so much.
The next set-up occurs several days or even weeks later. Victoria has recovered enough to see visitors. It is the first time Charles is allowed to see his wife. As he walks into the room he takes Victoria in for a moment and then collects his thoughts near the window. Keith’s performance is complex and intricate and incredibly endearing since he is the betrayed. In their tense silence both are aware that the doomed pregnancy was Richard’s child. It is as if some omniscient force had changed the rules of the arrangement for them both and yet there is a sense of devotion still intact. In a turn of absolute gratitude despite the circumstances, Charles realizes his own responsibility within the triangle and promises to continue his support by giving Victoria her life back. It is fascinating that a man of that time would feel more betrayal from the fact that she did not tell him how she felt and what she wanted regarding Richard rather than the actual affair. Victoria is finally free and in a sense so is Charles, their agreement outliving its purpose. I bid the cast and crew farewell and head for the nearest watering hole. I want to get blotto. My cell phone rings and I can see my wife’s picture pop up on the screen. I change my mind and head home instead willing to be open to the surprises my family has waiting for me.

Thom Hears a Who

by Sean Donnelly

Trying to find an empty beach at the end of August in New York City is like trying to find water on the moon, maybe even harder. A cold front has graced the production during the night so the wind is brisk and dry at 6:00AM. A swath of Far Rockaway Beach is the intended location this morning. Waking up in the dark before my son seems incredibly unnatural. The hour defies the correct order of things. It is not natural to be up at that time unless you’re drunk and still drinking from the night before. I head for the A train and meet the cast and crew at the designated area.
When I get there I see the director talking to Keith and Rebecca. Thom greets me with a cup of coffee. Eddie, Patrick and the rest of the wonderful team are setting up for the first shot. They are shooting with the Canon XL-2. One of the reasons is for the changeable lenses. The other is that it shoots 24p and the picture looks closer to film than any of the other cameras. I ask Patrick why they didn’t go with an HD camera and shoot Hi Def. He explained that the current budget could not afford the HD deck, the storage and the drive space or the Final Cut Pro upgrade. “Besides, we shot My Brother’s War on the XL-1 and a trailer for its sequel, UNION on the XL-2. We like the way it looks and know the features inside and out. It gives our ultra-low/no-budget projects a great look” My Brother’s War is Bjornquist Films first feature film www.mybrotherswar.com and available on DVD at Blockbuster, Hollywood Video, Netflix and VOD from Vanguard Cinema. It is an incredibly intimate portrait of two people trying to survive the American Civil War. When I saw it I was amazed at what the producers could do for a mere $30,000 dollars complete with Civil War battle scenes.
The scene today takes place towards the end of the story. One of my favorite actors, Keith Herron, is in costume as Charles Thornton. Charles has whisked Victoria away from London and asks her if New York has made her happy. His devotion to his wife and his life is so compelling that I shudder at the thought of him finding out that Victoria is with child. Her face resounds with unbearable internal conflict. Her gaze directed outward over the horizon of the Atlantic. It is clear that there is no place on earth that could make her happy. While the scene is underway Thom and Eddie quietly take their leave and I am informed that they are on their way with an entire art dept. crew to the day’s second location on a friend’s private property complete with a lake. Apparently the scene is supposed to be in late autumn. A friend of a friend got their hands on many bags filled with yellow confetti. The art department was able to come up with their own bags of fake yellow ginko leaves...New Yorkers are quite familiar with the stink these trees give off in the Fall. Something akin to cat piss magnified a thousand times over. Thank God! We won’t have to wade through actual ginko berries and leaves.
I hop the costume van and hitch a ride with Ashley, Stephanie and Rebecca. By mid-morning we arrive somewhere outside of New Paltz. A huge cowboy named Earl waves us through the front gate. He is wearing a ten-gallon hat like in the old westerns and rawhide chaps as if he has just wrestled a bull from his quarterhorse and I wonder if he’s just eccentric or the art dept. has punked us.
“Jesus is working miracles today in the backfield!” He exclaims in a Willie Nelson drawl, “Praise the Lord!”
“Oh, is Hey-Suess part of the art department?” I inquire. The girls roll their eyes and I’m not sure if it’s because of me or Earl.
“Sweet tea, sweet butter milk biscuits and sweet corn and butter beans are the elixir of the Lord and may we have a blessed day and a glorious lunch!”
“Oh God.” I hear Ashley whisper exasperated. Suddenly there is a piercing whistle and a saddled horse comes galloping out of nowhere stopping suddenly just in front of the van. Earl mounts the animal and then yells, “C’mon y’all, Follow me!” We move carefully through the woods following Earl and Trigger. When suddenly we see a huge area covered in golden yellow leaves. Thom is perched atop a ladder gluing leaves to a stripped tree. Eddie is raking and over-raking and re-raking and trying to get the area just right. “Eddie! We’re never going to see that. It looks fine.” Pat orders. Thom is gluing and twisting and adjusting like Horton hears a ‘Who’. Pat turns and yells, “Thom! It looks fine---we’re never going to get that close. Leave it alone. Let’s get this scene going.”
A group of five people I have yet to meet have created this autumnal wonderland. Two guys are sent to the other side of the lake in the camera’s view to pepper more yellow leaves on the banks. I see Patrick and ask, “Who’s the cat in the hat?”
“Earl. He’s a friend of ours---an old rodeo star turned preacher turned YouTube warbler of country music turned self-proclaimed new age yogi.” More like Yogi Bear I think to myself.
I watch Earl move toward a gaggle of excited geese. He waves his hat and yells, “Get the fuck outta here ya dirty bastards. Go on! Git!” I wander back to the costume van. The girls have placed the cooler of food outside while they dress Rebecca for the scene. I nibble on a wrap. Earl has disappeared. Thom stops to eat. “I wanted it to look real. I hate when Pat crushes my enthusiasm.” He says. Eddie wanders over.
“I have spread my dreams under your feet; Tread softly, because you tread on my dreams.” He recites. Pause. “Yeats.” He punctuates.
“Yeah, we know, Eddie.” Thom says impatiently.
“You know what, you’re already steppin’ on my thought---“ Eddie warns.
Earl comes riding up quickly and we can see Whit hanging on for dear life in back.
“I found this here scraggly lookin’ varmint trespassin’ on the property. He belong to you?”
“Yes! He’s one of the actors!” Thom says. Whit slides down missing one of his Indian sandals looking windblown and in slight pain.
“AWWW Shit! You know I’m just kiddin’!” And he rides off in a cloud of dust.
“Um. Is that the only mode of transportation in and out of here?” Whit says before he is called into the costume van with Ashley and Stephanie. Rebecca in black cape and hat meanders to an adjoining field looking fragile and pensive. The Director has a brief tête à tête to make sure she is okay. As the crew sets the camera, silks and videotap I keep my eye on that other field. Whit walks over to Rebecca and the two look like an old daguerreotype. They are engaged in deep conversation. I can only guess they are rehearsing by my untrained eyes, but somehow it feels like something real is going on. Whit puts his arms around her as if to shield her from view. They stand there for quite some time. There is some kind of consoling and comforting happening. She seems upset. He tenderly tames a stray hair caught in the wind tucking it behind her ear. After a few minutes Stephanie is called over to freshen up Rebecca’s make-up. Then Whit does a half-baked Chaplin impression that seems to bring a little levity to the situation. This is one of the last scenes of the story. Richard has made his way by merchant ship to New York to find Victoria. She tells him she has chosen to be with him and leave her familiar life. They are together at last. Richard has no dialogue but his reaction to her words speaks volumes about who he was and the man he has become. We can see the physical and emotional pain Victoria has endured in his absence. She, in turn, has grown through him experiencing true intimacy, the palpable certainty of motherhood and a life brimming with fulfillment. The Director yells CUT! The actors are quickly rushed into the costume van. And they disappear to the third location back in the city down in the West Village. The almost silent field is abuzz with the sound of two large wet-vacs sucking up the golden carpet of ginko leaves. Thom is perched on a ladder systematically dismantling Whoville from the sprigs of branches. Eddie is trying to re-bag the ginko leaves. “What are you doing?” Thom asks bewildered.
“We might need these for something else.” Eddie replies.
“Are you out of your friggin’ mind? What could we possibly need these for?” Thom replies.
“Ya know, you’re stepping on my ideas again, Thom.” Eddie adds.
Then Pat chimes in and says, “We can take ‘em to the recycle place. It’s all paper.”
Earl comes riding up playing Happy Trails on a harmonica. “Where did Jesus and the sad little lady go?” He asks. “They’re gonna miss some down home cookin’.”
I think to myself that perhaps Whit does look a little like Jesus if he had succumbed to the temptations in the desert…well no…he looks more like Hey-Suess.
“Well come on, y’all!” Earls says and rides off playing Yippee-I-oh, Cow Patty on his mouth harp. I wonder what awaits us at the house. I wouldn’t be surprised if there is a bison on a spit cooking slowly.

Merrow and Marrow

by Sean Donnelly

There is an old Irish legend of the Black Water Merrow. Before the advent of keeping time, perhaps during the exalted reign of the Druids, there was an ancient race of faery folk called the Roans. When actual humans emigrated and invaded the emerald isle the faery folk were forced underground or out to sea. Roan is the Celtic word for seal, you see. And on the lonely desolate areas of Ireland and the outer islands like Inishmaan and Inishmoor these seafolk would make their way to land and shed their skins and become human-like once again. Merrow is another word for mermaid but merrows can be male or female. Sometimes when they make their way up on land and a poor unsuspecting fisherman, farmer or peasant woman comes upon them they are instantly seduced by these otherworldly beings and brought down into the depths of the sea. Lost forever. Looking into the eyes of the merrow is particularly dangerous since this is where the seduction begins. And though they evoke a sense of rapture and compassion they are savage at heart---almost completely animal.
I am enamored with the story as the director relates it to me in her southern drawl. She tells me she wrote a play around this tale and is still haunted by it. I look around and the walls are covered in Victorian sea green wallpaper and huge magnificent oil paintings of mermaids, shipwrecks and ocean scenes. We are having breakfast together and I have been waiting for my chance to talk to her a bit more in depth since covering this film.
The paintings are most impressive but the fabricated wall that looks like one end of a castle with three gothic stained windows follows a close second. Brilliant!
“Do you think Richard might be a merrow?” She asks slyly. Of course that sets my wheels spinning. I haven’t read the script and even if I did I’m not sure the inference would have been clear.
“Literally or figuratively?” I ask.
“Either.” She replies with a smile..
“Well, when I see some of the playback Whit looks almost wolf-like. He’s missing his soul. It’s kind of unsettling. I guess that answers the literal question. Figuratively? Sure. He’s savage.”
“There’s a scene today that informs Richard’s upbringing through a particular incident from his childhood.” She hints.
“Well that’s a rather enigmatic tease.” I reply. “Tell me, is Richard Jack?”
She smiles. I can’t glean a thing from her silence.
“Okay then. What made you want to make this film?” I ask. She gathers her thoughts for a moment and after a pregnant pause, “Memories of a sort.”
“Pardon? ” I say. There’s another pause. “Are you immortal, no wait, a vampire?”
She gives me that look like I have been christened a huge asswipe.
“How is it possible that you could remember 1888?” I ask seriously.
“Time is not linear.” She replies sweetly and I am immediately thrust down the rabbit hole. WTF? I’m going to be chewing on this for weeks, I know it! The Cheshire Cat has spoken.
“To answer your question, I wanted to present the dichotomy of redemption.” She adds.
She gets up. Meeting over. The crew pours in and the cast arrives.
The intimate Northampton scenes are scheduled for today and although there is no love-making per se, as in intercourse, there is the before and after that has a more profound effect than the act itself. I am interested to see how high the chemistry goes on my internal geiger counter.
Whit arrives pretty much in character as does Ms. Damon. I try and keep my distance as I don’t want to interrupt their intense concentration. The crew gets set up rather quickly and the actors take their places on a walnut victorian day bed. Whit enters in antique underwear and I notice he’s a solid guy and works out. Immediately I self-consciously start comparing myself and I am woefully out of shape compared to him. I pledge to start lifting weights, doing push-ups and at least 50 sit-ups to lose the bicycle tire…okay, scooter tire I’ve accumulated through marriage. Sympathic baby weight I tell myself. God, I feel ugly. Then I slowly talk my way out of the grueling task oriented idea of exercise. I’m a writer I don’t have to look good. I guess my wife would disagree…
In a post-coital haze Richard lies in Victoria’s lap. She’s running her fingers through his hair. In a moment of pure openness and vulnerability Richard begins to tell of a fateful journey his family began to make from Ireland to Liverpool when he was a child. A storm blew up in the Irish Sea and his entire family drowned. He looks like an innocent boy in the dim evening light. Victoria says nothing but the look that washes across her face implies a thousand feelings: compassion, empathy, sensuality, concern, protection, love. Richard props himself up and they kiss each other tenderly.
The Director calls ‘cut’ and talks to the actors briefly. Thom instructs Stephanie to reset the bed covers. All of a sudden Whit starts to sweat and fidget and suddenly jumps up and out of the room. Rebecca calls after him, “Are you alright?”
“Fine---fine! Give me a minute” He shouts back from around the corner. Thom throws his hands up exasperated. The Director tells the crew to break for a moment. I walk around into the ‘green’ room to see what the fuss is all about.
“Quick! Tell me something disgusting, gross, sad, anything.” He says breathless.
“What’s going on, man?” I ask. I look down and he’s covering his underwear with his hands and I start laughing.
“It’s not fucking funny! Now tell me something bad!” He demands.
“Dude. It’s normal.---“ I try to explain.
“Duh, I know it’s normal---but not for me especially on a set.” He replies.
“This has never happened to you on a set?” I say a bit surprised.
“I’m good at compartmentalizing. It never happens.” He says.
“Not even the other day when you were doing the actual love scenes?” I ask bewildered?
“No.”
“Then what happened this time?” I ask.
“I’m not sure. I looked at the mermaid painting and then I just…”
Thom rushes in and I stand in front of Whit. “What the fuck?” He says.
“Have a little compassion---he’s a little nauseous, man.” I reply. “Have a heart.”
Thom shouts, “Christ. Stephanie! Get the Pepto and let’s get this thing shot!”
Rebecca rounds the corner and I try to block Whit.
“What’s the matter? Can I help?” She asks. Then her eyes notice Whit’s hands trying to cover his nether regions..
“I’m not feeling quite myself.” Whit says as he quickly turns his back. Oh, God, she knows.
“Let me talk to him.” She says. So I step aside and make my way into the kitchen. I can see them through the carriage doors. She takes his hands and seems to be very earnest.
Thom yells from the other room, “LET’S GO---LET’S GO!”
Rebecca yells back, “We’re not ready yet! We’ll be there in a minute!”
“I’m the fucking AD!” He yells.
“I know but we just need 60 seconds. Please?” She yells back.   The Director rounds the corner and again Whit turns his back.  Whispering ensues between the two women.  Rebecca tells the director there seems to be a wardrobe malfunction.  Nice cover I say to myself.  The director then asks who's in the bathroom.  "The DP." I interject.  The director tells the AD to give them 5 minutes please and then she attends to the other departments.

Rebecca and Whit whisper for a few moments, nod heads in agreement and she slowly leads him back onto the set. As I sip my cup of coffee and ponder the incident I make an unlikely connection. Poor Whit looked just like a clubbed seal a moment ago so I guess the director’s idea was right on target. He is an animal---at least the lower half of his body since it thinks independent of his brain. Patrick has occupied the bathroom during Whit’s dilemma so there was nowhere for the poor guy to hide. I guess he can take solace in the fact that only the actress and myself know what really happened. When Pat finally appears from the latrine he remarks, “Um, you might want to light a match!”
Thom rushes in from the set. “What the hell? It smells like a cow stall---OH GOD! It smells worse in here!” And he skitters away like a wayward crab seeking shelter. I go back to the set since the air is a little clearer. Rebecca is situated in the day bed. Whit is having last looks with Stephanie.
“So what did you say?” I ask.
“I just told him how awful it was when I had to put my dog down. He had cancer and it was quite an emotional time for me.” She replies.
I look over at the huge mermaid painting and for some reason I can feel the ocean, the tide rising. Then I suddenly realize I should mosey back to the kitchen and perhaps nibble for a moment contemplating dead dogs and clubbed seals…by myself. Reporting from my iCockleshell…peace out.

The Field of a Thousand People (or Eddie gets bit by the bug)

by Sean Donnelly

School is about to start soon as we enter the third week of August. My wife keeps telling me I need to be shopping for school supplies and clothes for Justin, my son, but I can’t shake my insatiable curiosity --- or maybe it has developed into an obsession with this Little BIG film. The Londinium cast and crew have moved to exteriors today and have been blessed with amazing dry, clear weather. Whit shows up with Rebecca dressed in their Victorian finery. He looks dapper and sleepy as usual. Rebecca has to prompt him in his semi-somnambulistic state as the production sets up and they run lines.
“I’ll get it, I’ll get it. I just need a cup of coffee.” I hear him say to Rebecca.
“Sandy was helping me with my lines and we ended up having too much red wine. I’ll be fine. Can someone get me a cup of coffee, Please!” Whit adds.
Eddie Joe hands him a single packet of Advil and Thom retrieves a bottle of water.
“I swear to God you better not puke on her Victorian dress. I’ll kill you.” Thom warns.
Whit gives him a twisted look. “I can hold my liquor, thank you very much.”
The smell of horseshit wafts over and Whit starts to turn a little green.
Thom warns him again. “I swear ---as God is my witness----“
“----I heard you the first time, Scarlett!” Whit replies. He pops the Advil with a bottle of water just as Stephanie walks up with the coveted cup o’ joe.
“Nectar of the Gods.” Whit whispers to himself. Rebecca just shakes her head and chuckles.
The point of meeting is at the Prospect Park horse stables over on Caton Place.
Two stable hands roll out a beautiful carriage and get it ready for a ride through the park. Walker, the owner and driver, has his own morning coat and driver’s top hat. People walking thru that part of Brooklyn stop, stare and take pictures on their cell phones. Patrick and Rebecca answer questions about the project. Whit starts to come to life and the chemistry between the two actors begins to blossom. As the draft horse is harnessed into the carriage the coachman helps the lady into her seat. I watch as they disappear across the Prospect Parkway and into the woods.
I meet up with them about an hour or so later at a tunnel located inside the park not far from the boathouse. I am ‘exposed’ to Stewart Walker, the actor playing Jules Whitby. I first catch his shadowy silhouette backlit by the tunnel and he is creepy as all hell.
Jules has been apprenticed to Edward Muybridge. Mr. Muybridge was an English photographer, known primarily for his important pioneering work, with use of multiple cameras to capture motion, and his zoopraxiscope, a device for projecting motion pictures that pre-dated the celluloid film strip that is still used today. (Thank you Wikipedia). Jules has a prototype of this first motion picture camera and is being paid by an upper class doctor to collect images. These images range from voyeuristic to macabre. Upon my formal introduction to Mr. Walker I am stunned by what a nice guy he is. I know that sounds terrible---never judge a book by its cover but he is dressed in a shabby Victorian suit, stains and dirt covering his trousers and coat, sporting whiskers---a crumpled, dusty bowler and looking like, well, like a murderer. Patrick tells me he is quite an accomplished Shakespearean actor. I ask how the hell did you guys snag him? Stewart chimes in and replies, “They made me an offer I couldn’t refuse”.
“Yeah, it has to do with Foxy Brown.” Eddie pipes up enigmatically….Hmmmm.
Whit shows up with Rebecca fresh from their romantic carriage ride. Whit is not a big guy. Stewart is an averaged sized man. Apparently there is a severe beating about to take place and the bigger guy loses. I ask Pat how it’s going to work? And be…believable? “We’re using the Tom Cruise Effect.” He says. “If the camera angle is at eye level with Whit or lower then he doesn’t look as small. It’s all perspective.”
Richard and Victoria stroll through an isolated part of the park as Jules, hidden in the shadow of a tunnel records their stolen kiss on his camera. Did someone say blackmail? Richard notices that someone is watching and dashes off to defend Victoria’s reputation and safety. Living on the streets of the East End, Richard fights dirty. He downs Jules quickly with a blow to the knees. Once on the ground Richard pummels the poor guy’s face taking a few hits himself. Blood starts flying. Victoria tries to persuade Richard to stop. As I’m watching a small crowd starts to gather and someone goes to get the police. Richard pulls a dagger and threatens to cut Jules’ throat. Eddie, a retired cop, heads off the police before they get to the tunnel. I think to myself what idiot can’t tell that we’re making a movie and fetches the police. We look like a roving band of Tim Burton actors, for Chrissakes. The actors keep acting. Eddie keeps talking---stalling the cops. Pat keeps rolling. Lannie keeps recording. All the while the possibility of being shut down and run off is looming. God! I want a cigarette. As the take ends we all watch as the cops saunter away and Eddie escorts them to their cruiser. That was close! The Park people show up just behind the cops and I think this is it. We’re gonna get thrown out of here. Eddie tells them we have a permit. He calls over to Thom. Thom tells them we have a permit but it is in the production truck. When the park people tell him to go fetch it he wanders off like Prissy going to fetch the doctor for Miss Melanie. It’s all about biding time. We get thru another take as Thom slowly disappears from the park in search of the Holy Mayor’s Office Permit. Pat tells me we’re just about done, we almost have the scene covered. The foot traffic picks up. Rebecca jumps in and turns on the charm for the pedestrians. So does the director. In between takes/set-ups they engage with the crowd to keep them from tattling on us. Whit tries to be invisible. Stewart has the hardest job since he has to fall again and again into the dirt and take the punches and burst the blood capsules. When we’re ready to roll Rebecca kindly asks the crowd to hold until they hear “cut”. Everyone seems amiable enough. Eddie continues to sweet talk the park people. As I watch them do the scene again and again, I instantly become a Stewart Walker fan. He is the consummate professional---an incomparable actor. He is specific in his choices. His intentions are laser clear. I absolutely, wholeheartedly believe this guy. He gives me the Conway Twitties not in an overt way but in the way that makes you uncomfortable and you’re not quite sure why. Someone needs to give this guy a break! He is an undiscovered movie villain. A celluloid gem. I can’t wait to see what he does in his other scenes. We wrap up our little production and break for lunch in the park. I find out that Stewart also choreographed the fight scene. It looked quick and vicious from my perspective. Kudos to the actors.
Thom wanders back wheeling a large cooler filled with chicken cutlet and turkey sandwiches. He also carries an official looking clipboard. We all find a shady area and begin to knosh. Whit sits under a tree looking over a different script. Eddie Joe picks it up. There is a lull in conversation since everyone is ravenous from our close call with the authorities.
“Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf….a reading”. Eddie Joe announces. He begins to act out both the George AND Martha parts in a particularly acerbic scene.
“Jesus Christ! Can’t I eat my lunch without an alcoholic rant!” Thom interrupts.
“Clam up, Bette Davis.” Pat says. Everyone is stunned and terrifically entertained by Eddie’s impromptu performance. After he finishes the scene Eddie turns and stares at Thom for minute. “Ya know, Thom. I think I’ve been bitten by the acting bug…you think you could give me a few pointers?”
“I hate you, Eddie” Thom says as he stomps off to smoke a cigarette in another part of the park.
Lunch ends. The actors go back to the house for a quick costume change. The crew hangs out in the park on an elongated break. I am supposed to run to Office Max as per a text my wife sent me. It can wait. We have to remain inconspicuous or the park people might run us off again. The location guy, Mark, escorts us to a field in the center of the park behind the ballfields. He’s assured the Director, Patrick and Thom that upon three different scouting trips that the field is almost empty. We walk down a woody trail that opens up to a meadow clearing and there before us are a few hundred people playing Frisbee and sunbathing. It is late summer, afterall. If I didn’t know better I’d think we were in Central Park. Thom flips out. “IDIOT! You picked the field of a thousand people to shoot this friggin’ scene!” Mark defends his job as does the Director. He did everything that was required. Rule #1---Expect the unexpected. Eddie just laughs and Patrick instructs the crew to try and nicely ask people to move their blankets and clear a swath across one end of the field. Most people cooperate, others grumble and reluctantly move their stuff. This scene is supposed to be like the end of Pride and Prejudice when Mr. Darcy crosses that beautiful English field at dawn to collect Ms. Bennett. In Londinium, Victoria has accepted an invitation from her friend, Mrs. Potter Webb to holiday at the Webb estate away from the public. Victoria sends Richard a note telling him that she is in the country. Richard procures a horse and makes the hours long ride through the night to reach her by the next afternoon. The lovers are reunited and free from public scrutiny. As Richard makes his way across the field the timing couldn’t be more impeccable. The sunlight hit that magic angle when everything is bathed in golden amber. Stunning and brilliant! Ms. Damon is shot out for the day.
Meanwhile back at the Fort Greene brownstone Stewart is in make-up for his scene scheduled at dusk. The location is Fort Green Park. We wander in just before dark. Picnic-ers are still spread out on their blankets staring at the cast as they wander through to a less populated area in the park. The Arabic dagger quickly slices through Jules’ throat and fake blood starts to spray and run down his neck and clothes. It actually looks pretty real. Everyone is on edge. If a cop walking by sees us, and the fake blood we could be in a lot of trouble. Eddie assures us that we’ll be fine. If anything happens he’ll talk us out of it. These are old school mechanical effects. No CGI here. To some that might be a flaw but to me the old editing techniques seem much more real than computer generated effects. Patrick and his SFX guy have rigged a small exterminator can with clear fishtank hoses applied underneath a latex gash with tiny holes affixed to Stewarts neck by good old fashioned spirit gum. From where I am standing it looks authentic. The pressure from the exterminator can forces the fake blood through the hose and holes simulating a severed jugular. AWESOME! As per the director the camera moves according to the Tom Cruise Effect and what I see on playback is exciting! We finish and Stewart is covered from his neck down in blood, dirt, leaves, etc. looking like a victim of the French Revolution. Our picnic-ers give us a rousing round of applause. Rule number 1 – expect the unexpected. Who knows what kind of crowd tomorrow will bring…after all…tomorrow is another day…(so sayeth Scarlett). I guess I'll move like Prissy and stop at Office Max.

The Alchemical Wedding

I happen by the Londinium set only to find that the director has instructed that any non-essential crew not be allowed. Apparently all of the love scenes have been scheduled today. And when I speak with Patrick out on the stoop he tells me that the director hired an all female (skeletal) crew for some of the more intimate scenes between Richard and Victoria. Damn! and I came prepared with my iflip. I decide to lunch with the producers. While dining at 67 Burger in Fort Greene, the best burgers in Brooklyn by the way, I decide to bring up some of the theories that many Jack the Ripper films, books, television shows seem to probe or reenact. According to Scotland Yard near one of the murder scenes the killer scrawled in chalk across a wall “The Juwes are the men That Will not be blamed for nothing.” According to some of the literature and lore associated with the rites and traditions of Freemasonry Hiram Abiff was a master builder and his knowledge helped build the temple of Solomon. Jubela, Jubelo and Jubelum were three ruffians that murdered Hiram Abiff for his secrets of manifestation. The three names were originally from the root Gebal which was a city in phonecia. The “JU” or “JUWES” was a play on words/meanings perhaps to incite violence against the Jewish population in London at the time OR to let the authorities know that they were dealing with someone who was educated and at the very least middle class. Any gentleman could have written those words. It may not have been the actual murderer. In any case to prevent riots the head of police ordered it washed away – evidence destroyed. From the limited amount I know of Freemasonry it is a fraternity of service. Anyone I know associated with the group has at some point volunteered their time and talents in service to humanitarian causes. This dark cloud that has been born over the group is the latest craze of the entertainment industry thanks to Dan Brown and his conspiracy books. Not to take anything away from the author as it is great reading and quite entertaining.
The compass and the square are the symbols of a Freemason. If you perceive them as two equilateral triangles missing their base lines – one pointing up and the other pointing down you have the Mogen David or the star of David, symbol of Israel and the Jewish people. However a six pointed star has deeper significance within the art alchemy that predates the old testament and can be traced to ancient Egypt and possibly before the rise of the pyramids. “As Above, so below”. Anything that happens on the spirit plane will manifest on the material and any thoughts projected from the material plane take flight in the spirit. It is the mantra of manifestation and the work of a magus (or magician). I am not talking about slight of hand but true magic working with the forces of nature. Pay it Forward, Creative Visualization, Power of Prayer, Thoughts become Things, etc. In Numerology Six is the symbol of Love. And Love is the elixir that fuels intention and moves mountains. Some of the greatest love stories are of people who have overcome impossible circumstances to achieve their desires whether it is the desire to be together or the desire to accomplish something together or for someone.
In Alchemy the soul is feminine and represented by the moon. The Spirit is masculine and represented by the sun. An Alchemical wedding occurs when the sun is united with the moon. The Soul is the where the ‘below’ is and the Spirit is where the ‘above’ is. When a person unites the will of the soul and the intention of the spirit there is enlightenment. Stay with me here as I will get to my point as it relates to the movie. I did a little more research on my own and decided to look up old New York Times articles from 1888 and onward---anything that made reference to the Whitechapel murders. I found about four different news stories where various inspectors and physicians associated with the jack the ripper murders had been interviewed ten and fifteen years after the killings. All spoke of an upper middle class gentleman who was a medical student who had friends in high places. Apparently this poor chap was bitten with a religious fervor that exacerbated an underlying psychological condition. The sins of prostitutes and the sins they caused made this young fellow cut them up and eviscerate them as a kind of penance. Being a medical student and privy to studying cadavers desensitized him. Whoever he was he was a true sociopath, indeed. Apparently a few months after quietly being committed to an insane asylum on the outskirts of London the alleged killer committed suicide. Jack the Ripper was caught, he was identified but that doesn’t sell newspapers. Keeping his identity and whereabouts quiet helped fuel social reform. The powers that be at the time may have tapped into the social subconscious including their own to help bring about change and that change spread.
Getting back to the union of the sun and the moon and Richard and Victoria. The songs and tales of the medieval troubadours were really alchemical recipes in disguise. The unattainable or unavailable (i.e.married) woman creates the tension for unconsummated love. That place between courting and hoping to consummate is where unending waves of creative energy are born and is the material that transmutes the man or the pursuer (doesn’t matter what gender you are or the gender of your affection). The feminine is how a man connects up and through her to his spiritual ideal. When I say feminine it could be an actual woman or a metaphor for the great mother. When Richard meets Victoria in the street he is wounded but it begins his upward movement towards an ideal of himself i.e. who he hopes to be in order to win Victoria’s heart. He will be changed regardless as to whether he wins her heart or not because in the pursuit is the redemption.
Now if we look at the world’s fascination with Jack the Ripper and who he was we stare into the great void of mysteries…another name for the feminine or the yin or the shekinah. Staring into it and really feeling one’s way through it leads one to the other side and into the light. This is where lead can be transformed into gold. Where base emotions, theories and study and ideas can take root and bring about solutions, redemption, reform, invention innovation to change reality, as we know it.
I see it in action as we finish up our elongated lunch and wander back towards the Fort Greene brownstone. We see some of the female crew outside drinking coffee and realize they are on break. Patrick enters the set to find the director to make sure everyone is decent before we are allowed to enter. The actors are in robes in the kitchen and they look pleasantly exhausted. Whit seems like he could fall asleep at any moment but he is instantly alert when we sit down and start talking. There is a quiet sensitivity in the air. Ms. Damon is subdued and perhaps a bit dazed as she sips her tea near the end of the table.
“Everyone doing okay?” Patrick asks.
“Yeah, we’re fine. It’s all good.” Whit replies and he looks over at his acting partner to make sure she really is okay.
As the chit chat ensues I sit and watch them. She seems a bit more vulnerable than usual and Whit is distracted. He constantly checks to see if Rebecca is indeed okay. When questions are posed he answers for them both. When the director walks in and says break is over Whit collects her and they walk away together. My intention is not to read anything into it other than the acting. They have to stay in character in order to get through the scenes. I find it an interesting observation since I’m not allowed to watch the actual love-making. I guess I’ll have to wait until the footage is ready to be viewed, get my suit pressed and the rice ready to throw. See you at the reception.