Possibly the best DP in the Bay Area, Rick understood film from a physics standpoint; constantly pushed producers to put as many aesthetically improving pieces of gear on a job as possible; and kept up with the latest innovations.
But the guy might have been more pro-union than Harry Bridges. He made no effort to hide his contempt for management, which is production, which is me. It led to some contentious discussions. I found him unyielding, which bugged me because I grew up in a union household and made efforts to abide by work rules even when on non-union jobs.
It all came to a proverbial head during the pre-light day lunch.
A few things to remember. The strike and contract with AFTRA had been settled, and we could now cast union talent. I spoke to Rick on more than one occasion regarding that fact.
A transcript for further edification.
Me: “Do not turn into Norma Rae during this job, Rick. It is no longer an issue.”
Rick: “It is for me.”
Me: “Okay, Goofy. Let me lay it out. I’m your advocate. I don’t care how you feel about this stuff. I’ll hire you as long as you perform which you always do. But that’s me. If you alienate the Lucas employees, and that includes the director, Hal Barwood, the odds of you doing more work such as this are about as good as someone named Fishbein getting a job in the German Government in 1937. Understand?”
Rick: [grumble]
Me: “Understand?”
Rick: [grumble]
A few days later, all the above-the-line people sat down for the pre-light lunch, which did not go well for Rick. Had it not been for the fact that I refused to fire him, he’d have been bounced out onto the studio parking lot. He kept bringing up the strike and George Lucas’ personal wealth. Hal Barwood, a consummate pro, kept diplomatically changing the subject.
Me: “I’ll bring the two principal actors in a little early for some rehearsal.”
Rick: “Speaking of AFTRA talent, did George throw them some of his pocket change to settle the strike?”
Hal Barwood: “Look at that! Is that a firefly inside the soundstage?”
Rick: “Hey, who’s kicking my ankle?”
Rick spent decades in the Bay Area limping around after shooting himself in the foot or having it continuously kicked by producers trying to save his behind. He never got the message to pay attention to lighting and shut up about labor relations.
****
But let’s move onto the lighter side of the job. In addition to Hal Barwood, a talented and professional director, I also got to work with Mike Kitchens, incredibly brilliant AD, Harry Morgan look AND sound-alike, and one of the more entertaining people on the planet. The following exchange between him, and the aforementioned Rick Wise, will be one of the last things I think about before shuffling off to wherever I’m going.
Mike: “How much longer, Rick?”
Rick: “Just a few more minutes. Need to get all those kicks off Darth Vader.”
Fifteen minutes later.
Mike: “How much longer, Rick?”
Rick: “Just a few more minutes. Need to get all those kicks off Darth Vader.”
Fifteen minutes later.
Mike: “How much longer, Rick?”
Rick: “Just a few more minutes. Need to get all those kicks off Darth Vader.”
Mike: “We may have to rethink this, unless you want to enter what we have in a film festival. You could call it “Darth Vader: A Man and His Helmet.”
Rick: “I’m not ready, and we’re still getting some kicks off that helmet.”
Mike: “Maybe we should shoot this like it’s the end of a hard day of massacring and Darth has come home. He’s taken off his boots and hung his helmet on a hat rack.”
Panicked Lucas Employee: “You want to shoot Darth Vader without
his helmet on?”
Mike: “Sure. Why not?”
Panicked Lucas Employee faints. Mike took the opportunity to have the rest of the Lucas staff, except for Steve Dauterman, moved into the kitchen. While not at the same level of omnivorous-ness as the ad agencies I’d left behind in New York City, they never met a craft service table they didn’t like.
After depositing the staff near a constant source of food, Mike went back to work on Rick.
Mike: “I think it’s time to pull the trigger.”
Rick: “I’m still getting some kicks off Vader’s helmet.”
Mike: “Since this is day one of a ten day shoot, I’m going to hazard a guess and say that Darth Vader’s helmet will present this same problem for the next nine days, six hours, and forty-three minutes.”
Rick: “So?”
Before this got worse, I interceded.
Me: “Okay, girls. Shut up. I’ve got the prop department picking up some strip coat black.”
Rick: “That won’t work. Vader will look like he’s got a black ball on his head.”
Mike: “Say that a little louder, Rick. I don’t think the clients in the kitchen heard you.”
Dauterman saved us from a brawl between two late middle-aged men on a sound stage surrounded by Storm Troopers and an actor in a Darth Vader costume. Darth, by the way, needed an apple box to be taller than the Princess Leia clone. For his next statement in the overheated atmosphere, he should get a Congressional Medal of Honor.
Steve Dauterman: “I’m looking at the matte we can pull. There is nothing in there that can’t be roto-scoped in post. I’ve let the VFX supervisor know, and he concurs.”
So passed the job’s biggest obstacle, other than Rick’s continued humming of the Soviet National Anthem. Rebel Assault II got to the shelves and sold . . . more copies than I care to disclose.
Commenti