Started bad. Didn’t get much better. Made a reservation for a Dodge Intrepid at the airport rent-a-car. My buddy cop said those were the new model cars and we could make them look good.
Go to the airport, walked a half a mile to the counter and they told me they don’t have any more Intrepids but they could offer me a minivan for same price. Obviously that’s not going to work.
What a waste of time.
No other cops would show. We used a Crown Vic from down the street plus my younger brother’s Taurus. Everyone showed up late. Some extras didn’t show again. I decided my cameo would be a cop on the scene, since I needed some cops and didn’t have the extras. Fucked by the extras again. That could be the name of my book.
Steve Carson, our first AC, also became a cop.
The scene was the morning after the clown has killed a family a few doors up from our protagonist. Our choice was to use the next house up, which I had permission to use.
But I liked the one two doors up better. Rich Herard, our police advisor advised against it.
I outranked him.
We ran crime scene tape all in front of the house, parked two fake police cars there, and began shooting. I even commented on camera that it would be funny if the people who owned the house came home to their new crime scene.
Not five minutes later, the lady of the house pulls up, ready to have a coronary because her house looks like a crime scene. At least I know it looks believable.
The bad new is that she’s pregnant. I hustled over and explained what was going on and she was cool with it. Even moved her car for us.
Then the guy who owned the house with the pregnant wife comes home and is a dick. Five minutes after he gets home and I talk to him, he’s out back mowing his lawn(and the grass didn’t look that long). Ten minutes later and he’s out front loudly raking his leaves. How do you spell COCK, boys and girls?
We started doing all the shots. A car drove by just about every take. A fucking plane took off every other take. Some nimrod with a hammer was pounding away at his house.
Not a lot of fun. I’m not in love with all the stuff we’re getting, but it will have to do.
We rush down to the side of the house where Detective Peters(Frank Lama) tells Lynn what he believes happened regarding the hitman clown. And we're losing light fast.
We try to do Frank's side of the convo but he keeps tanking his lines. Can't remember. In his defense it's a lot of lines in one chunk, and he's doing double duty acting and directing on another movie, but we just don't have time.
End up just letting him hold his script below camera line so he can glance at it when he needs to. Then we get some good stuff on Jacky's side just so we're safe for any cutaway. Say what you want about Jacky, but I can't remember a time she was unprepared with her lines.
We eat, move on.
Did the scene where J.P. and Frank knock on the door, looking for Jacky’s character. Rich Herard did return duty as another cop with them. Set up the screen to double for daylight. Went okay.
Afterward Mun pulled me aside as there was a littler personal conflict going on that I didn’t know about. He tells me that the night before he and Rick went out. Rick got drunk and said that “we” weren’t happy with the shots he was getting. That “we” wished Gil had been available. Mun says if I’m not happy he’ll take off—no problem.
I don’t know what the fuck Rick is talking about. I tell him it was just Rick being drunk. The stuff looks good, and the stuff that doesn’t look good is not his fault—we’re so limited by the equipment we’re using in the locations we’re using them that it’s a miracle we’re getting ANY good stuff.
Think we straightened it out.
Funniest blooper of the night. We’re doing the scene where Jacky gets a call from Phillip after she and Rick are mugged. Phillip’s not there because we only need Jacky’s side of it. So I’m reading Phillip’s lines so Jacky has something to respond to.
We do the take a couple of times, and one time when Jacky asks, “Phillip, what are you doing up so late?” I respond seriously, “Buttfucking your mom.”
Jacky opens her mouth to respond with her line, and then it sinks in. We were all tired, exhausted, and everybody burst out laughing. Took five minutes for us all to compose ourselves.
Anyway, we finish up. There’s a shitstorm coming for tomorrow.