7/24/23
Newsletter #406
The Crack of Dawn
Although I think that the relationship between the director and the 1st AD is crucial, other issues can easily override it. At the top of the list would be a temperamental lead actor. Should you have such a thing, then both the director and the 1st AD will usually have to work in tandem to deal with that situation. Let me quickly add that most actors, lead or supporting, are generally a joy to work with. They too have a variety of issues to deal with: this one is frightened of the camera, that one can’t remember their lines, this other one can’t hit their marks, but those are standard problems and easily resolved. But if your lead actor is crabby or snotty or obstreperous or hung over or just tired, that becomes problem #1.
I’ve told this story before, but since it’s sort of the highlight of my directorial career, I’ll repeat it. 80-year-old Anthony Quinn played Zeus in Hercules in the Maze of the Minotaur, and 30 years later he still wins the award for the Most Temperamental Actor I’ve ever worked with. Our first day of shooting together was on a barn set interior with one horse in a stall. Mr. Quinn was determined to make me and the producer look like young, inexperienced idiots. He not only wouldn’t do anything I asked him to do, he would intentionally do the opposite. If I wanted him to enter camera right, he’d come in camera left; if I asked him to sit, he’d stand, or worse, wander around. I had carefully storyboarded the scene, and those immediately became worthless. Quinn had part of the set rebuilt for his entrance. Even though it fucked me up, it was worth it to watch the face of Eric the producer as Quinn explained how the set needed to be rebuilt, right now while we were supposed to be shooting. I wasn’t privy to the deal, but Quinn was getting about a million dollars for four weeks’ work. Therefore, every minute he was there was the most expensive thing in the movie, and he knew it.
It's amusing, I think, that as the director of the fifth of five movies, I got him last; but as the 2nd unit director, I worked with him first. His first day on the movie was with me shooting shots for the front title sequence. Since it was 2nd unit and there was no dialogue and I had very little to shoot, it was a pleasant, easy day. This first day of main unit shooting with Quinn in the barn was a bloody nightmare. The day ended with Quinn bellowing, “David Lean moved a thousand horses at my suggestion on Lawrence of Arabia.” I grinned and said, “I only have one horse, Mr. Quinn, but I’ll move it anywhere you’d like.” For the first time that day he smiled. He had called all of the previous directors, “boy,” up until that moment. Now he started calling me “son.”
Which was swell but didn’t solve my problem. I had a pile of storyboards for his upcoming scenes, and he had just made it perfectly clear that he wouldn’t go anywhere I wanted or do anything I asked him to. Worse still, he wanted to go to the part of the set that hadn’t been built yet. So, I lay there in bed in the hotel thinking, “How do I get him to do what I want?”
For the most part, movies are shot like this: you get a wide shot of the whole thing, then you get closer shots. The wide shot, also known as the Master, establishes the geography of the scene – where is everybody? She’s at the window, he’s on the couch, and the other person comes through the door. Whatever. But the editor never stays on the wide shot. Once we know where everyone is, it cuts to close-ups and stays there. Therefore, spending much time shooting Anthony Quinn in a wide shot is mostly wasted. Anthony Quinn’s close-up is what’s important. So let’s begin with his close-up, which is the money shot. He was 80 years old and didn’t have a lot of energy (though he certainly had enough to make trouble), and had specifically told me so. Therefore, starting with his close-up – which just isn’t done – would get him at his freshest. So I made it an honor. “Ladies and gentlemen, we will begin with Mr. Quinn’s close-up, right there at that tree.” We were on location in a beautiful, moss-covered forest outside Auckland, New Zealand, at night. We were actually shooting night for night, with Anthony Quinn. A stupid production idea. Once Hercules became a TV series, they never shot night for night ever again.
Anyway, Quinn’s double stood at the tree and the scene was lit. It was a rather lengthy dialogue scene with Hercules. Quinn had already remarked to me that he was having difficulty learning a lot of dialogue, and this was a lot of dialogue. Although it was pure expository nonsense, it was actually important to the plot – “The minotaur is your brother, Hercules” – and to break it up so he wouldn’t have to learn the whole scene, I had him exit halfway into the scene.
Mr. Quinn stepped to his mark next to the tree and we shot his close-up. Halfway into the scene he exited. Cut. It was great. Let’s shoot another one for fun. The second one was also great. He was feisty and fresh, and his makeup was perfect. Terrific, print both of them. We backed the camera up to the medium two-shot of Zeus talking to Hercules — which would usually be shot first — which begins with Zeus entering and hitting his mark next to the tree. My mark. The one where we just shot his fresh, terrific close-up. I said, “Mr. Quinn enters from here, hits that mark, then Hercules enters, hits that mark, they talk, then halfway in, Mr. Quinn exits.” It was all perfectly clear. So, Mr. Quinn. Anthony Quinn, two-time Oscar-winner, saw the situation, and I didn’t have to say it out loud. As we were about to shoot the scene, he looked at me, smiled and nodded. He was going to enter where I wanted him to, and hit the mark I set. Why? Because we had already shot his terrific close-up there and he had to match it – or reshoot his close-up, and that wasn’t going to happen. And he knew it. Plus, I had broken the scene in half, so he only had the know half of it.
I had Quinn out of there in three hours. For the rest of the shoot, he was mine. He did exactly what I told him because he knew that I was doing my very best to get him out of there as soon as possible. And I kept starting with his close-up, which he liked.
I’ve kept using this method, sometimes. When needed. Bruce Campbell is all for it, too. Bruce wishes he could always get his close-up first.
As a director, it may be my best idea.