3/13/23
Newsletter #274
The Crack of Dawn
When I directed Hercules in the Maze of the Minotaur (1994) I worked with Peter Jackson’s special effects company, WETA. The FX supervisor was Richard Taylor. Richard is exceptionally bright, creative, talented, and has since gone on to win – get this – five Oscars: three for the Lord of the Rings films, one for The Hobbit, and one for King Kong. Needless to say, the guy is really good at his job.
During pre-production Richard came into my office and showed me two sets of drawings for the mechanical minotaur head that would be worn by an actor and was the centerpiece of the movie. It was terrifically complicated with 28 servo motors controlling all the movements of the face that would be operated remotely by five people at a control panel. So I looked at the two sets of beautifully drawn depictions of the minotaur and immediately chose the one on the right. Richard’s expression drooped and he said, “Really? That one?” I said, “Yeah. It’s terrific. I love it.” He said, “I like the other one.” I said, “Yeah, well, I like this one.” He shrugged, “OK.”
Meanwhile, it was tough casting an actor as the minotaur. He had to be big, capable of handling this heavy, unwieldy minotaur head, and be able to act. The casting director, Diana Rowan, kept sending in big Samoans and Tongans who were just not right and we both knew it. And production was quickly approaching. Then Di found him — Anthony Ray Parker. Anthony was six-and-a-half feet tall, completely ripped, handsome, with a commanding, low voice, and – get this – he was from Saginaw, Michigan. I hired him on the spot. His major concern was that his voice would be replaced. I said, “I think you have a great voice. I’ll make sure to get all of your lines clean (meaning, not wearing the minotaur head).”
Production was now rapidly coming at us. A week before shooting Richard Taylor and some of his guys showed up in Auckland with the minotaur head (they were located in Wellington). It was a wonderful, finely-crafted, severely complicated item with a million wires coming out of it. Except that it was the wrong design. I said, “Richard, I chose the other one.” He looked at me for a long time, then finally said, “I like this one better.” I said, “I know. You said so when you showed them to me. But I chose the other one. Remember?” Suddenly, he remembered, and said, “You did choose the other one.” I nodded, “Yes, I did.” He was immediately stricken with horrible panic and said, “I can’t change it. There’s no time.” I said, “I know. Luckily, this is a great design, too. It’s just not the one I chose.” Richard looked away, shook his head and said, “How did I do this?”
The minotaur head worked perfectly and really looks like it’s talking, with six different lip movements, eyebrows that raised, the brow furrowed, nostrils that flared. It’s a masterpiece. And Anthony Ray Parker, who had to breathe with a little oxygen tank, gave a Shakesperian performance, muffled though it might have been. I did in fact get a clean track of Anthony doing all of his lines, and we put it into the film as we edited.
Word came down during post that the powers-that-be didn’t like Anothony’s voice and I should dub him. Mine is not to question why. We did the post sound in L.A. and had Barbara Harris’ Loop Group, who were the best in town. Watching a professional loop group work is fascinating. In any case, the group’s barritone, a middle-aged black man, who was replacing the minotaur’s lines, asked me, “What are you hearing?” I said, “How about Orson Welles?” He said, “Got it.” He nailed it right away, and it’s perfect. It’s subtle.
I felt a little bad for Anthony Ray Parker until I saw him in The Matrix, which was akso also shot in New Zealand.
He did fine. And he’s good. My fellow Michigander. What on earth was he doing in Auckland at just the moment I needed him?
The universe, from what I hear, never makes a mistake.