That 4 Friends Movie


Day 04  - Tuesday  


    Another too early morning, made even too earlier by the fact that we have to pack, because we’re moving to Kingsport for new Motel 6 accommodations this evening.  Gina is unhappy with the added pre-breakfast work.

    Today, I’m pretty psyched, since we’re doing our big mission scene at Mission Soledad.  I’ve never been to a California mission, and I’m looking forward to it.  So we lucky few pile into Craig’s van and begin the long caravan to our location. I do my customary passing around of the sunscreen to anyone who wants it (sort of set sunscreen karma – no matter how little you may have left, you have to share it because one day you’ll need to borrow it from someone else).  And there is much discussion and introspection.  For example, this other van driver named Larry, or “Scary Larry” as he is nick-named.  “He’s not scary, he’s nice!” I claim.  “Well,” chimes in another rider, “He’s nice but scary.” Then it’s PA John’s turn, “He’s the kind of guy who will jump at you from out of nowhere and say, 'Hi! How ya doin’?’” which got a huge laugh.

    I mentioned the insanity of the day before, where I have to struggle for 10 minutes before I can get to the restroom.  “Tell me about it!” moaned Craig, who was sent in a million different directions in his van yesterday.  “It was so nuts, and everybody’s wanting the van and the time’s messed up and (Camera Loader) Karen asks me to drive her to the bathroom and I swear to God, I said, 'Uh…uh…Is it number one or number two?’”  We fall apart laughing.  “And she looks at me and says, 'I can’t believe you asked me that!  I’m a 28 year-old woman!  I don’t need Production asking me if it’s number one or number two!’”   

    Eventually we see a long string of bike riders lining the freeway and we realize it’s the real AIDS riders.  It’s amazing, a never ending group of riders, cruising by us as we go off to make a movie based on the same thing at the same time.  Marcy and Tracy immediately check out the wardrobe situation to compare it to their costumes.  “There’s Harry's!” Tracy and I cry at the same time, pointing to a brightly dressed cyclist.  “Which is it?” asks Marcy.  “The Salsa one,” Tracy returns, referring to the official brand name of the outfit (I call it the pretty red and yellow one).  “Lots of chartreuse,” Marcy muses.  “We don’t have any chartreuse.”  And then they’re gone.

    And we’re lost.  We’ve pulled off at some exit the directions request, but we can’t find the road.  And we’ve got several other vans behind us.  So Craig goes through some intersections and pulls off to the side of the road near a field to discuss the situation with some other drivers.  Enya and Stella claw their way out of the van for a cigarette break.  Craig returns and they’re forced to stomp out their newly lit cigarettes and climb back in.  We caravan back to a BP station where Craig defies his male upbringing and will ask for directions.  Enya’s thrilled, crying, “Oh, good!  Time for a cigarette!”  And Craig cries, “ENYA!  DO NOT GET OUT OF THIS VAN!” and he disappears into the station.

    We reach the very nice mission, and it occurs to me that I have chosen today of all days to wear the Michigan J. Frog t-shirt, even though I’ll be spending most of the day inside a very reverent church.  Oh, well.

    More chit-chat while getting our act together.  Somehow, I get on a Bull Durham discussion with the chief driver, Tony.  “Remember that scene in Bull Durham when Costner dares Tim Robbins to hit him with a baseball?”  I asked enthusiastically.  He’s suddenly not impressed and not interested.  I try to describe the scene with more enthusiasm to counter his lack thereof, and he’s still not interested.  I say, “And he--” and Tony says, “I know the scene.  I saw all eight takes of it!” and I stop and look at him, realizing he worked on it.  That’s…so…COOL!

    I see Lonnie in the parking lot and tell him my reaction to the changing of the ADs.  Lonnie smiled and said, “Yes, Todd and I were saying Marilyn’ll be happy about that!”  Which surprised me.  I guess the sit down and shut up story made the rounds…

    So we’re shooting the big mission scene and AD Michael tells me that today’s script revision which I haven’t seen yet revises all the dialog from this scene into the hospital scene at the end of the movie, so we’ve pretty much made our day before we’ve even started.  Sound guy comments that Sound doesn’t really need to be here, does he, and Michael assures him he never really needs to be there, but hey. 

    I go into the mission, a beautiful historic old church, and check out the camera plan.  A practically 360-degree camera turn throughout the church.  And today I don’t have a rock to hide behind.  I asked 2nd Assistant Camera Mario where the monitor (i.e. me) will be, and he points to a tiny 3 foot area in the wall with the 2 foot monitor crammed in and C-stands EVERYWHERE in between.  It looks like the magician’s box after all the swords have been pushed in.  I look at him and ask “What, the cliff wasn’t enough?”  Later, Alfredo’s excuse is “I want you closer to me.”  I tell him any closer and I’ll be behind him.  (Thank you, Groucho.)  And I’m curious how the writer Gregg's going to fit in there, and he does show up, but AD Michael discretely communicated to him the limited space and he disappeared for the first set-up.

    We’re ready to shoot.

    So Jane does her scene, all very beautiful, prayers and tears.  It’s so quiet in the church that Don can’t even use his silencer box on his camera to take still photos, sound can hear the camera clicking.   Then we move out into the field, for another Jane scene, quiet and peaceful, and we leap into vans for Harry’s scene on a city street.

    Chris the locations manager tells us it’s a neighborhood where we need to discretely do our work and leave.  Then this other guy (no one really knows who he is but he’s always around) tells us he saw a group of young guys drive by and they did this special hand signal, which he demonstrates, and he tells us it’s the sign of the oldest most reputable street gang.   We nod and he leaves.  It’s me, Assistant Prod Coordinator Keri, Wardrobe Marcy, a few others and Harry sitting in the van waiting for the others to set up the shot.  It’s chilly and windy and I’m working on my notes, still using my broken ruler.  Keri asks me what I’m doing.  I explain my work, but she’s fishing for me to use my NEW ruler that she got for me.  Harry asks her if she’s aspiring to be a script supervisor.  I tell him I’m not aspiring to be one, I’m aspiring to be… and I’m thinking writer, but I realize I’d really rather be the ridiculously pampered writer on this show, Gregg, so I say “Gregg.”  Harry hilariously exclaims with surprise, “You want to be a gay man?!! Why do you want to be a gay man?!!”  He’s practically in my face, “Really?” and I laugh and explain myself a little.  Then someone asks who the mystery guy is and the answer is the medic, and Harry and I both nod and go “Ahhh…”  Marcy asks what we mean, and I tell the story from The Big Fall shoot where the medic was always asking people if they needed sunscreen and finally a grip leans in to a group of us and says “I know you’re all thinking it, so I’m just going to go ahead and say it:  The medic is a geek.”  And Harry laughs, nodding in full understanding, repeating the line, “The medic is a geek.”  This is the first time I see myself in a chatty situation with this Harry guy, and we talk his movies -- mostly him bemoaning that he dies in all his films, and me countering with a list of movies he doesn't die in.

    Scene shot, we go to our Motel 6, and Gina and I discover the vent is venting cigarette smoke from the next room into our room and we’re doomed.  She goes to dinner (our catering truck in the parking lot), and I grab Lonnie to discretely discuss my concern about this pampered writer on the set.  I’m used to having to get out of the way of directors, DPs and producers, but this guy is always in my way at the monitor and it’s starting to interfere with my work.  (And I’m leaving out the fact that he’s plain annoying – always laughing very loudly not only at his own scripted jokes, but everything the actors say, and leaning on my chair or talking to me while I’m furiously trying to remember continuity bits and write notes before I forget).  He suggests I talk to Todd, but instructs me to be v-e-r-y careful and cheerful and don’t pout or sulk.  Boy, he’s got my number. 

    So I find Todd and he’s exhausted but we talk in his room.  Terrified of saying the wrong thing, I blow it right away.  I try the sideways approach, trying to discuss how much support can I expect from him (since scripties usually have all the power of a doormat).  For example, when there’s limited seating somewhere and I need to sit down and get the notes finished, and other people are just sitting around… He’s looking at me blankly.  Duh.  I mean, if it was the camera, everyone would have to move, no question…  He’s looking at me, beyond exhausted and clearly wondering why this madwoman is taking up his valuable sleeping time.  He takes a deep breath and says, “Well, most script supervisors I know bring their own chair,” clearly not impressed with me.  So, completely shot down, I say, never mind that, what I really want to ask, why I’m really there – and my voice is shaking and I’m about to ask him if his buddy pal can lower himself below a doormat that is expected to bring her own chair and get the hell out of my way.  So I explain my dilemma, and I’m near tears because I’m exhausted from work alone plus daily playing the diplomatic balancing act of dealing with the producers’ darling and extremely intrusive writer friend and not wanting to piss anyone off.  Todd, no more impressed with me now than before, tells me to talk to the writer directly but remember he’s a producer now too (say, WHAT???) so he’s entitled to the same respect. 

    I go back to the hotel room, passing Gina who’s getting ready to go across the street to the “mall” with some crew people, and walk directly into the bathroom where I close the door behind me and slide against the wall to the floor, quietly sobbing, which I continue to do (after moving to my bed once Gina’s left) for the next three hours, except for a 30-minute Frasier break, where I resume crying during the commercials.  I keep playing the same pieces of stupid things over in my head.  Gina returns and I’m still sobbing.  I explain to her that not only am I stressed about work, I’m totally bummed that I get no support from the higher ups.  She doesn’t get it.  I explain that my position, while difficult, important and respected, is easily squashed by most people on the set, and I didn’t help things by going into Todd’s room and loudly announcing that I’m whining about his best-pal the writer.  I’m worse off than I was before because now I’m marked as a trouble-maker.  Then she innocently tells me that everybody was in Alice’s room watching dailies, which I should have seen but wasn’t told about, and I cry some more.  Until I remember Harry’s high-pitched exclamation “You want to be a gay man?” and I started laughing.  Poor Gina – she looks at me like she just knows I’ve gone bye-bye.



Waiting   Prod Mtg 1   Art Dept Mtg   Prod Mtg 2   Read Through
Day 0   Day 1   Day 2   Day 3   Day 4   Day 5   Day 6   Day 6.0   Day 7   Day 8  
Day 9   Day 10   Day 11   Day 12   Day 13   Day 14   Day 15   Day 16   Day 17  
Day 18   Day 19   Day 20   Day 21   Day 22   Day 23   Day 24   Wrap party        


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