All of Brooklyn's a Stage

I take a ride down Shore Road in Bay Ridge, Brooklyn on the way to a doctor’s appointment only to be told by the cab driver that the mansion we motor past was once the home of America’s silent star darling, Mary Pickford and Douglas Fairbanks.  Some might find it hard to believe that New York City (and New Jersey) were the homes of the first movie studios.  Edison’s Black Maria is being restored as we speak in West Orange, NJ.  In 1919 Mary Pickford, Charlie Chaplin and Douglas Fairbanks were the three top stars of the silent era that formed the first Actor’s Film Studio a.k.a. United Artists along with the great film director, D. W. Griffith (Birth of a Nation).  However by that time the filmmakers and the people who financed them all caravanned to California since the weather permitted year round film production.  And film at that time needed a lot of light---a lot---like sunlight.  I call Thom from the doctor’s office and he says if I can get there in a half hour I’ll be able to see Judy Krause perform the Queen’s Monologue scene.  I hustle up to Fort Greene where the art department has once again transformed one of the rooms into a portion of a Victorian proscenium stage.  I know.  You don’t believe me.  But I have to tell you that these guys have used every square foot of their brownstone like a movie soundstage.  I ask Patrick what the dimensions are of the entire floor.  He tells me 850 square feet, give or take.  I know.  You don’t believe me.  I can hardly believe it myself if I hadn’t spent the past two weeks watching these crew people do it.  Once again they used ebay for the materials and some of the faux work.  They used progresso bread crumb packages to create the footlights, bought red damask fabric in bulk and sewed grand curtains.  I see Judy getting into costume.  She is in a lush red velvet medieval dress with long strings of pearls and beads.  I hear the director tell the make-up artist that her character, Catherine Burroughs is a grande dame of the Victorian stage so her make-up has to be period correct.  Judy mounts the stage looking like she walked off the set of Shakespeare in Love or Topsy-Turvy.  She is the perfect actress for this part.  The director gives Eddie Jo the high sign, yells “Places!” the fog machines gurgles and churns.  She’s almost obscured by the mist and just before it clears “ACTION!”.  She begins Queen Gertrude’s monologue from Hamlet.  The director has advised her to play as big as possible as if the space is a 500 seat theatre.  Again, to be period correct the acting style goes against all the modern techniques.  That’s how they did it.  If you don’t believe me watch Mike Leigh’s Topsy Turvy, a fantastic movie about Gilbert and Sullivan’s collaboration and their hit The Mikado.  The filmmakers do several takes and adjustments.  Judy is hustled into make-up where she is stripped bare to her translucent porcelain skin. They move a red velvet chair onto the stage, lower the lights so that Judy glows.  And she performs the same soliloquy as an interior monologue.  Subtle and rife with double meaning, I wonder as the words move effortlessly from her mouth if in recounting Ophelia’s death she is speaking of her own broken heart from her liaison with Richard.  It sets the tone for the rest of the film.  Editing between the two versions of the monologue presents the gulf between the face we present to the world and the private one we choose to hide away.   There are several takes and a dolly in.  I can’t take my eyes off her.  Her interpretation is brilliant.  We break for lunch.  She changes into a pair of shorts and a tank top.  We all converge in the kitchen where the Thom and Ed show is about to begin. 

“Thom.  Did you bring potato salad today?” Ed asks.

“No.  We had potato salad yesterday.” Thom replies.

“So?” Ed says.

“So it loses its appeal if you eat it all the time.  It’s called the law of diminishing returns.”  Thom says a bit impatient.

“Potato Salad never ‘diminishes’ for me.  I could eat it for days.”  Ed says.

Thom jams his hand in his pocket, pulls out a ten spot, throws it on the table like a gauntlet and says,  “Get yourself some friggin’ potato salad.  Path Mark is down the block.”

“It’s not a reflection on you, Thom.  That you forgot, I mean.” Ed says.

“I didn’t forget! I CHOSE not to buy it.” Thom retorts.

“How could you? since you know it’s my favorite?”  Ed says.

“I’m going to punch you in about two seconds.” Thom threatens.

“Guys---guys---I’ll take a walk to path mark for the potato salad.” Judy offers.

“You know, Thom, I think you have anger issues.  You should see a professional or something.” Ed adds. Thom does not reply.  He sits chewing vigorously.  Pregnant pause.

“Hey, did you remember to bring the Fresca?” Ed asks quietly.

“That’s it.” Thom says and he grabs his sandwich and smokes and stomps out to the stoop.  Show over.  Whit arrives in cut offs and flip flops Cold Play blasting on his iPod.

“Man it’s hot.  I’m sweatin’ like a cat in a roomful of rockin’ chairs.” He says.  Stephanie turns around and glares. “I’m a member of PETA and I find that offensive.”

“Hey I’m sorry.  It’s just an expression.” He says. “It’s not like a chair could kill a cat.” He mumbles.

“That’s not an apology.” She says and she turns on her heels and disappears.

“Stephanie?  Want some potato salad?” Judy says weakly.  I can tell it’s hot by everyone’s disposition.  I tell Pat maybe we should blast the air conditioners so everyone cools down.  Good idea.  I watch as the amazing crew has completely broken down the temporary stage, lights and paraphernalia and moves in the contents of Richard’s art studio/bedroom bed, bureau, easels, paintings, etc.

Next up is a post-coital scene between Richard and Catherine.  The director arranges them on the ‘porn bed’ as the crew calls it.  It is Richard’s flat in the East End of London.  Catherine asks him if he’s been in a fight as he has cuts on his face.  We’ve already been shown that a young woman has been murdered in the park.  He is mysterious with an air of danger.  Catherine is the type of woman who is aroused by the idea of being with someone dangerous.  The chemistry between Whit and Judy is palpable and sexy. 

“I like it when you frighten me.” She purrs.  Then he moves into position for another go.

In the next scene Richard is painting a small study of Catherine who models for him.  She gives him Charles’ card and tells Richard that Charles wants a portrait for his wife.  Richard has no idea who the wife is but takes the card and decides to take Catherine right there in the chair.  She pushes him away and says she wants to watch him with another first.  This is our introduction to their voyeuristic nature.  

I find a common thread between national fear and voyeurism.  Hitchcock was the master with classics like, Psycho, Rear Window & Vertigo.  Whenever a society grows fearful they bunch up like a school of fish or a herd of caribou.  Sexual repression is rampant and the free expression embraced in a time of plenty seems persecuted during scarcity.  The peaks and valleys of the studio system reflect that.  This is a time when authentic expression through independent films can make their mark.  Sex, Lies and Videotape and Blue Velvet for example. One made during the Reagan Administration and the other during the Daddy Bush era.

Peeping Tom, a 1960 film by director Michael Powell is about a focus puller at a film studio.  At night he kills women and puts the murders on film.  A neighbor downstairs discovers his stash of snuff films and terrified---her curiosity compels her to watch.  1960 may as well have been 1950.  The film ruined Michael Powell’s career and was pulled from theatres within a week as being filthy, nasty and only fit for the sewer.  It was not until Martin Scorsese saw it and found social validation in it. He breathed life back into it and into Powell’s career. It is an underground favorite.  This thread runs through Londinium.  Only imagine this: that the first motion picture camera was used for snuff films…the Ripper murders.

Gosford--No, Prospect Park

I stroll along Prospect Park West at eight, a relatively early hour…for me, that is.  I decided to take my time and drink in a little nature on the way.  This is how New Yorkers stay connected to trees and grass.  I detour into the park as joggers, cyclists and dog walkers pass by.  I meet Thom walking from the other entrance clutching a very tall cup of coffee.

“So what’s on tap for today?” I ask.

“We’re doing the dinner scene.  It’s the largest scene in the film with eight actors --- all the principles and supporting.”  He replies.  “My brother’s house is just across the street and the parlor floor is our set.”

At that very moment as Thom is telling me the history of the house a dog walker lets his large bulldog take a hot steamer literally within yards of us.  Thom has his back to the park patron and his animal and I watch in glee to see how long it takes before the stench wafts our way.

“My brother has been restoring it for over a year and now that it’s finished he has graciously let us shoot inside for a day---OOOOHHHH JEEEEEES!”  His face turns white and he literally runs from the spot.  I don’t blame him as I am on his heels to find refuge from the offending poo.  Once inside I am amazed at the grandeur of the home.  Al and Lynn Milano have a spectacular mansion.  And they are extremely generous to let a film crew and large cast take over for the day.  The dining table is period correct and tiger oak with clawfoot legs.  The room is huge with a balcony on four sides looking down on the dining area.  The walls painted a sophisticated Victorian mustard, oak parquet floors and oak staircase with hand carved banisters.  Suspended over the table is a Victorian chandelier with etched glass globes.  Hardly any set dressing had to be done.  I ask Stephanie if the dressers were here and what had been placed.  She said the only thing they added were potted palms to hide any electrical outlets in the walls and two urns.  The actors begin arriving and are sent to the front room where the rack of costumes are located and Ashley and her assistant help everyone into their formal wear.  I take a moment and chat with Patrick.

“I see the dolly track is laid out and you have a camera op today.” I say.

“The entire scene which is about eight minutes long is going to be covered multiple times and constantly moving.”  He says.

“Sounds like an Altman film.”  I reply.

“That’s exactly what the director wants.  And she made us watch Gosford Park so we’d understand perfectly.”  He explains.

“I Love Gosford Park.  Next to M*A*S*H and Nashville it’s one of his classics.”  I say.

“I like The Player myself.”  Pat comments and then he’s off to give orders to the crew.  As the actors file out I notice how amazing everyone looks and how perfectly orchestrated the colors on each person fit.  The men are in Victorian tuxedos with the exception of the gentleman playing Prince Albert Victor, Duke of Clarence portrayed brilliantly by Dennis Davies.  The character is introduced in this scene and then never seen again in the film.  I ask the director about this.

“I wanted to show that these people/characters are connected with royalty and that Richard Rhys is completely out of his element. He is invited for everyone else’s sport---except Victoria, of course. There was a scene in the script where Charles actually meets with Queen Victoria herself but we had to cut it because it would have been too expensive to set and costume dress.  I needed a little bit of royalty to establish their connection instead of just hearing about it through dialogue.”  She explains.

“I keep hearing rumors that the Prince may have been the killer.”  I say.

“Back in the 1960’s there was a theory that Prince Albert Victor might have been Jack the Ripper.  It persists today as a kind of urban legend.  It is documented that Prince Eddie had an art studio in the Whitechapel area at the time and that he took painting lessons from a teacher and worked from live models that were probably hookers.”  She explained.  “He also contracted syphilis and by 1888 was declining in mental health due to the disease.”

“What do you believe?”  I ask.

“Eddie was mentally challenged.  Maybe even very mildly retarded.  His sexuality was in question and so there never seemed to be any interest in women whatsoever and he seemed to be a follower and not a leader.  I don’t think he was capable of the kind of murders committed by the perpetrator and I think the whole Royal cover-up is just high drama and myth.  The only cover-up by the monarchy was the fact that he had syphilis.  They claimed he died of the flu.”

“So who do you think it might have been?”  I ask.

“In fact or in the movie?” She asks.

“In fact.” I clarify.

“There are two suspects that I think certainly could have pulled it off.  One was Walter Richard Sickert, a well known painter of the time.  He did a series of macabre paintings called the Camden Town Murders.  What makes these paintings suspicious is that according to the police records of the time the details are so accurate that the art looks like crime scene sketches.  Also the only original surviving letter from Jack the Ripper ---the imfamous ‘from Hell’ note---has a weave and watermark that is identical to a batch of letters that Sickert wrote during the time of the murders. The other suspect and most likely the actual murderer was a man named James Kelly who was emotionally unstable.  He was an upholsterer in London.  He got upset and went into a psychotic rage killing his wife by stabbing her in the neck.  He was arrested and committed to an insane asylum outside of London.  However, he escaped a week before the first Ripper murders began.  Ship records indicate that he fled to the U.S. in November 1888 right after Mary Kelly’s murder.  John Kelly returned to the insane asylum twenty or thrity years later asking to be readmitted.  He confessed to a series of murders across the United States including New York, Texas and California.  The dates in his confession correspond with newspaper articles about grisly murders in those very towns and states.  No one ever connected the dots since he was always on the move.” She went on.  I find it fascinating.  Apparently there was a horrible murder on Pearl Street in lower Manhattan in 1891 of a prostitute nicknamed Shakespeare.  According to the incisions and wounds on the body they were consistent, almost identicle with the Ripper murders in London.

The actors are in place and the crew is about to shoot the first master of the entire scene. 

Jerry Marsini plays Vincent Morris a business associate and close confidant of Charles.  He is hosting the dinner party in honor of Charles being chosen by the Queen to head the Department of Treasury.  I understad that Richard was unaware that Victoria would be at the dinner gathering and he cannot help but be infatuated with her much to Catherine’s chagrin.  In order to emasculate Richard, Catherine showers her affection on her sometime lover, Sophie Newhardt played wonderfully by the talented Sandra DeLuca.  Richard is captivated by Victoria as the conversation steers toward the Ripper murders.  Everyone at the table takes the upper class---hands off attitude to the crime.  No one would believe that a gentleman could be responsible for such grisly killings.  Richard counters by suggesting that perhaps the murders are being committed to get their --- the Upper classes---attention.  Perhaps it is a cry for reform.  This further intrigues Victoria while revealing Richard’s humble origins.  His façade removed.  To which Catherine says he would know what a hooker might feel.  Uncomfortable tense silence.  Catherine further emasculates and humiliates Richard to the point that he can longer be the target of their inside humor.  He abruptly leaves.  It is an ensemble scene and all the subtle connections between each character are wonderfully revealed.  We know that Charles and Vincent are having an affair without any dialogue.  It’s all in body language and suggestion.  The Altman style of covering the scene only enhaces the ensemble aspect.  Bravo to all the actors!  During the lunch break the Director makes an announcement.

“We’ve had fifteen wonderful shooting days with Rebecca Damon and this is her last day!  So let’s give it up for her.”  She says.

Everyone stands and claps and a few woohoos from Eddie Joe.

“You are officially shot out and can have your life back!!! And Thank you!”  She adds.

Whit gives her a well deserved hug as the crew moves the dolly track to the other side of the room.  I decide that I’ll spend the rest of the afternoon with Justin but the question will still linger in my mind.  Whodunnit!

 

 

 

 

Silence is Golden

I’ve just finished putting Justin to bed and settling into a mellow hang with the wife when

I get a call from Thom that we will be shooting in the Brooklyn set quite early.  6AM.  Buddy, I’m not breathing at 6 in the morning.  My wife delivered our son at 5:00 and I was asleep folded up like an accordion at the nurse’s station.  I’m no looker but beauty sleep still counts to me.  Thom suggests I meet everyone in the village at about 10:00AM for the next set-up.  I’m going to miss a scene with Judy Krause and I weigh my options.  I love watching her work.  However, it is a small set-up with a stagehand and there are plenty of juicy scenes with her left to shoot.  I opt to keep my vampiric hours.

Knowing I can sleep in I decide to watch a documentary on John Ford written and directed by Peter Bogdanovich.  I like John Ford and I really only know him for his westerns like Stage Coach and Fort Apache.  If someone asked me who directed The Quiet Man --- that quintessential Irish/American pic with John Wayne and Maureen O’Hara that seems to be the Saint Patrick’s Day equivalent of It’s a Wonderful Life, I am embarrassed to say I would not have known.  That goes for The Grapes of Wrath, Who Shot Liberty Valance, Young Mr. Lincoln and How Green is my Valley. I guess I can’t really claim to be a bonafide cinephile.  I find it truly fascinating that the things we take for granted in watching a movie---since the talkies!  That’s 1929, guys, and even before that, we owe to John Ford.  Among directors and movie fans he is considered to be one of the masters of filmmaking.  People like Orson Wells, Ingmar Bergman and Steven Spielberg refer to John Ford as a poet and a master painter. He influenced the likes of Fassbinder, Truffaut and Godard---Giants of the silver screen.  Orson Wells claimed he watched Stage Coach at least forty times in preparation for Citizen Kane.  Ford was the first to make the landscape a character in a movie.  He was the first to use ultra-wide shots of great expanse to convey the world we live in.  He was the first to make an epic.  He was also one of the first to throw dialogue away.  If the moment can be captured in a look or thru body language then the dialogue was trashed.  There are actors out there that I call line-counters.  These people mistakenly think that the more lines they have the more screen time.  To some extent that is true.  If the lines are not delivered well then the editor can significantly reduce an actor’s appearance.  More on that in another entry.  However, it is the brilliant actor who can tell an emotional story with minimal use of words.  The Theatre is for words.  Film is an exploration of human behavior.  Both are fascinating in their own forms if done well.  John Ford started in the silent film era making westerns with a stock company of actors.  A bit of trivia, he was a bit player in D.W. Griffith’s Birth of a Nation.  He was quoted as saying that it is much harder to try and tell a story without dialogue.  I think any aspiring film student should make at least one silent film so they can learn the language of pictures and behavior.  Not replicate a silent film but create a story with just pictures and movement. 

I make my way down to Grove Street where I find a very pared down crew.  Patrick, Thom, Ed, the director and a PA.  Whit is dressed in his great cape and top hat looking a bit imposing and Rebecca dons a beautiful violet taffeta and black velvet Victorian dress.  The scene takes place towards the end of the story.  Victoria has settled into her New York City home after leaving London and Richard.  In a prior scene Victoria was set up by Catherine to walk in on Richard and herself in a compromising position. (See I Spy with my Little Eye blog).  Richard has made the great crossing to seek forgiveness and hopefully reunite with Victoria.  Thom shows me the scripted scene and it is sparse with lines.  The actors rehearse.  Both Whit and Rebecca have problems trying to get the words out with genuine connection.  They ask to huddle with the director.

“Can we just try it without having to say anything?”  Rebecca requests.

“It seems forced.  If you don’t want to cut it can we refashion the lines?” Whit adds.

“Why don’t you guys scrap the script and say what you want to say.  Say what you feel.” She replies.

I watch from a distance and Richard and Victoria begin their scene. And from where I am standing it certainly doesn’t look like much.  The director asks Ed to hook up the video tap and Patrick moves the camera in filling the frame with the two lovers.  Suddenly their entire world is lit up.  In their eyes alone there is so much to feel and glean from a subtle move or a gentle touch.

“ACTION!”  The director yells.  Victoria is on her way out and locking the gate to her courtyard.  Richard quietly moves up behind her.  When she turns she is startled and a plethora of emotions at once contradictory and yet perfectly in sync cascades over and through her.  Richard touches her face tenderly and the look they share says it all.  It lasts a minute or two but it is electric and satisfying.  He takes in every nuance of her face.  The sunlight is absolutely perfect for the shot.  Something in Victoria’s face opens and blossoms.  He extends his arm.  She accepts and they walk down the street together.  When I write it down it seems simple and banal.  There are no words to convey it.  That is why film is a visually visceral medium that has to be seen, preferably big, to be experienced.

“CUT! That was perfect!”  The director says.  “You guys were right on!  Beautiful!”

“You want to get another one?”  Thom asks as he is our AD for the day. 

“I know I have it but we’ll do another one for safety.” The director replies.

“And another for shits and giggles…for me?”  Thom says with an evil smile.

“How was that for camera?” The director asks.

“Stunning.” Pat replies.

“The sound was okay---I’d like another take.”  Ed says tongue-in-cheek.

“There’s no dialogue, idiot---Fuck sound!” Thom adds exasperated.

“I think I want to use my safe word now.”  Ed says meekly. “SPONGEBOB!” He shouts.

I think Thom and Pat are about to bust a gut laughing.

“We’ll have to strip out reference sound anyway because of the traffic.  Whatever we need we can design and foley later.”  The director explains to the PA who is wrangling cords and battery packs.

I ask Whit how he’s doing since it is almost ninety degrees out and he’s layered in wool.  “I think I sweat off my velvet change purse.”  He says gluging water. “ I have GOT to get out of this costume or score an ice cold beer somewhere.  We’re done, right?”

“Oh yeah, we’re done here.”  I say and he walks away quickly to find some shade.

We all jump into various vehicles and head back to the Brooklyn Brownstone for lunch.  Whit and Rebecca are done for the day.  Since Rebecca only lives in the next neighborhood she decides to go home.  Whit meets Sandy and they drive back to Brookyln together AC at full blast.  The next scene is in a historic parlor in a well-known building in New York.  It is the location for Charles and Victoria’s New York mansion.  Keith and Bill meet us at the location.  We have to be quick and we have to be quiet.

Dr. Willoughby walks the Citizen Kane-like interior through these massive oak pocket doors to Charles who is nervously awaiting news of Victoria’s health.  The Doctor informs Charles that  ‘she lost the baby’.  Again, I watch in rapt attention as a profusion of emotions and discoveries wash across Charles’ face.  It is evident that he did not know of her condition.  And it is quite clear that he was not responsible for her pregnancy.  But his deep devotion to her remains intact.  I’m not sure if he is weeping from the hurt of betrayal or from the fear of losing her or from the deep disappointment that Victoria had to step outside their marriage to find fulfillment. I vote for all three.  And once again silence is golden.

 

 

 

Beauty is in the Eye of the Beholder

Good Lord Boyet, my beauty, though but mean,


Needs not the painted flourish of your praise:


Beauty is bought by judgement of the eye,


Not utter'd by base sale of chapmen's tongues…

[Loves Labor Lost] 1588, Shakespeare.

 Beauty is in the Eye of the Beholder…thru the camera…by the audience.  All beholding a movie and hoping it provides an escape into adventure and beyond the tough realities of the day.  Or bring us closer to our own humanity.  That being said I want to say a few more things about the art of cinematography.  While some directors and cinematographers like to wing it, so to speak.  That is, to use the camera as a recording instrument and capture as much footage in a free and experimental way much like a documentary.  Others prefer the more traditional structure of planning and mapping out how to use the camera, lights, actors etc., as efficiently as possible in order to glean the performances necessary to tell a great story.  Not that one way is better. It all depends on the project and the vision behind it.  Stanley Kubrick was known for taking 100 takes of the same scene/set-up because he wanted to get it right.  It was incredibly frustrating for the actors involved.  I think Sydney Pollack in Eyes Wide Shut made some interesting comments about the way Kubrick worked --- being a director himself.  At the other end of the spectrum is Clint Eastwood with Million Dollar Baby who does maybe 2 or 3 takes at the most and then moves on.  Both movies are equally wonderful examples of exemplary filmmaking. In watching the unfolding production of A Rogue in Londinium, I have been privy to the mechanics of getting this huge undertaking in the can.  The director is very specific in her planning of scenes and such working with Patrick who is the cinematographer as well.  Since she is an accomplished artist herself she has utilized the storyboard in almost every scene.  The drawings themselves are little pieces of art and are incredibly helpful in communicating what she wants.  Patrick is then able to compose a beautiful frame based on the boards.  And if you look at some of the edited scenes and compare them to the sketches, the shots are almost verbatim.  Storyboarding, especially on costume dramas is a tool that helps to cut down on time.  While everyone is standing around in costumes (possibly a tad uncomfortable) under lights that are trying to recreate historic atmosphere it would be counterproductive to wander around trying to figure out where the camera goes and then where to place the lights so they look authentic.  The actors get testy and the crew gets cranky and then the whole morale of the thing can go into a nosedive.  Trying to resuscitate everyone can take twice as much energy.  And we are all trying to go green these days, aren’t we?  Even on a physical level.

Once on the set the Director frees up.  She is open to ideas from the DP as long as they match the thru-line of the scene.  Patrick comes up with ideas to combine shots while keeping the intention intact.  However, she gets a lot of flack from the producers about coverage. Now, I know she is trying to cover her butt.  Others think she is spending way too much time on scenes.  During a break I ask her how she tackles the issue. 

“Sometimes I know exactly what I want.  Other times I want to see what the actors bring to the scene.  The actors are the most important element since they are telling the story.  I want the performances to be as nuanced and truthful as possible and if it means I take the extra time and set-ups with the DP to get what I want then that’s what I am going to do.” She answers.

“The producers seem to give you a lot of crap about coverage.”  I say.

“I respect them.  I know that time is money.  But I also know that one cannot force a performance.  And although I try to cooperate with them a great deal they are not as versed in editing as other producers.  In that way, I hope that they trust what I am trying to do and that I will bring in a project that has quality even if it takes a little more time than we thought.” She replies.

“So when you have set-ups that record the same bit of dialogue it seems like you can’t make up your mind about what you want.  Is that true?”  I boldly ask.

“Sometimes.  But at other times I want to see if the actor surprises me.”  She says.  “If I am surprised and moved and inspired by a performance then the whole thing is worth it.”

“Don’t you think that you’re coddling the actors a little?”  Again, another bold question.  She’s going to hate me by the end of this interview.

“I will do whatever I can to make an actor feel safe and relaxed enough to give me the performance I want.” She says.

“Isn’t that the actors job, though?”

“Maybe.  Have you ever tried acting?  I’m not talking about the high school play.  This kind of work is really taxing because it is usually shot out of sequence.  So you have to find those emotions at the drop of a hat.  Then you have to match that to what you may have done a week ago…again and again, take after take.  It’s hard work.”  She says.  Touché…The one thing I can vouch for is that she and the AD scheduled scenes that never went beyond twelve hours on any given day. 

The current scene under the lens is with Judy (playing Catherine).  She has just come offstage from playing Gertrude in Hamlet.  Victoria and Charles greet her in her dressing room at which point Charles asks Catherine if she knows of some poor artist willing to paint Victoria’s likeness.  Socially conscious Victoria would rather offer the money to an unknown painter rather than contribute to the hubris of having a John Singer Sargent in her living room.  Since Catherine and Richard are friends ‘with benefits’ she recommends Richard for the job.  Victoria has no idea that she will be meeting the mysterious man in the street from several nights before.

I watch as the grips set up the dolly for one of the scenes later.  I ask the DP what makes him choose a dolly move over a static shot or a jib shot. 

“The scene is intimate.  Two people are having a conversation.  A slow dolly move in makes the audience member feel as if they are leaning into the conversation.  They are an active, intimate part of the scene without knowing it.”  He says. 

We break for lunch and Thom and Eddie are unknowingly enacting the odd couple yet again. 

Felix:  You know I pick Oscar up and I tell him I’ve got a lot on my mind and I really want to be of help to the director so I’m going over things silently as I drive and what does he do?  He starts talking.

Oscar:  You spend way too much time alone, Felix.

Felix:  That does not mean you can just gab away when I specifically ask you to be quiet.

Oscar:  I’m just being friendly.

Felix:  You just talk because you can’t help it.

Oscar:  You don’t want me to talk to you?

Felix:  Yes. When I ask you not to---and especially if I am in the scene. I want to go over my lines but I can’t if you’re just chatting in my ear about nothing.

Oscar:  Coffee is important, Felix.

Felix:  Not when I have to do a scene!!!

Oscar:  Well you should’ve done your preparation before picking me up.

Felix:  I have to leave now because I’m going to hit you.

Rebecca is in stitches and Judy can’t contain herself with laughter.  This, my friends, is the sideshow…Dolly in.   It may even be richer than the one we’re filming.

“It’s certainly funnier!”  Judy exclaims.

Whit walks in wearing a full beard and jeans.  His eyes are dark and menacing.  He looks incredibly creepy today.  Everyone picks up on it.  In a scene later that day he frightens Catherine.  He has arrived with the appropriate energy. 

The next set-up is when Richard finally visits Catherine after her performance and they share a glass of absinthe.  Richard has been scarce and distracted.  During his absence  Catherine has found out that Victoria has a thing for him and they are spending quite a bit of time together.  Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. I won’t give the scene away but Catherine begins a hateful dance of seduction ending in Richard on the street with what looks like blood on his clothes and hands. She is screaming murder at the top of her lungs.  It is one of the most provocative scenes I’ve ever witnessed and I hope it makes it into the final cut.