Written By
Ted Nicolaou
During the Making of Subspecies
September – December 1990
NOV 22 — Thurs —Thanksgiving Day — Continued: Crew call was 1 PM. We’re ready to begin shooting at 4:30. We knock off the first scene without problems, and begin setting the lights and readying the Steadicam for the sword fight. The cast is in a lighter mood, playful and focused on the work. Perhaps they’re feeling optimistic, seeing the light at the end of the tunnel, a few more weeks of work and we’re done. Perhaps it’s the controlled environment of the studio, with its spaciousness and green room upstairs. There’s still too much alcohol consumed on off hours at the hotel. Though I drink with them for the camaraderie, the truth is I’m a lightweight; marijuana is my preferred vice. The effect of alcohol I hate most, and the one I strenuously avoid is the bed spinning out from under me when I close my eyes to sleep, so in all these weeks with the cast, I’ve only been drunk a handful of times.
We roll on the first setup of the sword fight about 8:30 -- I estimate that with good luck and economical shooting, we can finish this sequence in about 4 hours. The first bit of action involves Michael leaping off the platform after Karl frees him from the chains, taking up a sword, helping Laura off the bed where Radu has just violated het, and rushing to fight Radu. Anders arrives in his makeup and stands off-camera with his sword to give Michael an eye line. We shoot two takes that are pretty good, but there’s one moment I want to be certain the camera catches, so we set up for a third take. The camera rolls, I call action, Michael leaps off the platform, and suddenly there’s a loud metallic CLANG off to the left. We all look at Anders, standing there with a sheepish, guilty look. His totally fearsome magical-looking sword has broken in two, the blade sheared off at the hilt.
I ask Viorel and the prop guys if we have a double for the sword. They shake their heads. Are there any other longswords to be had? Yes but they’re in the prop warehouse, which is locked at this hour and the Man With the Key has gone home. There’s a welding shop at the studio, but it’s closed too and its Man With the Key is gone too. I summon the Production team and Jimmy the AD, who’s put in a special appearance tonight, and tell them to find the key, break into the prop warehouse, I don’t care how they do it, but bring me some swords, quick. They rush off to see what they can do, or to at least give the appearance of doing something. They return a short time later with a few puny looking swords, none with the gravitas of a Radu weapon. They’re also lighter weight than Michael’s sword, so the difference in weight could pose a danger to them both. One of the prop guys comes back with a solution. They’ve found a welding shop in town that’s open, and rush off to repair Radu’s sword, saying they’ll be back in an hour. It’s 9 PM. To not lose time we change our plan and go to work on the aftermath of the sword fight, the shots of Michael disarmed, fallen back by the fireplace, taking up the burning spear, and plunging it into Radu’s chest, followed by the final moments of Michael beheading Radu. Unfortunately, with lack of time and problems with the props, these shots have to be done in closeups instead of 2-shots.
At 10:15, we have one more setup to complete this sequence. But the crew has other plans. They gather around Nelu the production man and tell him they’re tired of working for the day and insist that we wrap. They’re exhausted. One of them fainted. Ten hours is enough. They can’t take it anymore.
I’m a sensitive person. I empathize and feel some responsibility for everyone who’s contributing to the film. If the crew is exhausted to the point of fainting, there’s definitely something wrong. Maybe it’s because they don’t get a meal break. Or water on the set. Maybe it’s the money they’re owed and the only power they have is to stop work. In all this I can’t be angry with them. Anyone with a heart can see that everybody here needs money desperately. The financial transactions are between Ion and Charlie Band. I know the money usually comes later than promised, and usually when someone visits us with cash, but I trust it will come. Charlie wants to finish this fucking movie as much as I do.
Maybe I sound like some kind of a Nineteenth Century water cures kook, but I’ve been ragging on Ion about water on the set from the first day of preproduction. I repeat my plea to Valentin now, and he agrees. But Ion refuses to spring for the 25 dollars a day.
After some pleading on my part, and with Vlad’s encouragement, the crew agrees to work another half hour so we can finish this sequence with the beheading of Radu. We leave the sword fight for another day. Radu’s sword never comes.
After we wrap I take Valentin aside and tell him that unless Production works out something to satisfy the crew, we’ll never finish Michael’s scenes by the time he leaves.
We’re basically improvising now, adjusting our daily shot list in response to chaotic happenstance. No one’s making call sheets for the cast and crew anymore, so everyone comes to me to ask when they need to be on set. In addition to trying to direct the film and to keep a tally of the scenes and shots we’ve left behind, these questions are starting to drive me crazy. The drivers need their schedules, so they come to me. What’s the location for tomorrow’s festival scene? I don’t have a clue.
I call Ion as soon as we get back at the hotel. I tell him that if we can’t make the crew happy enough to work, we might as well stop shooting right now. I tell him I can no longer deal with organizational details that Production should be taking care of. He calls me naive. I start shouting. He’s impossible to reason with. And he carps back at me for being too friendly to the crew and smiling too much.
A little later, reflecting on this with a cooler head, I’m sure Ion is suffering too, waiting for money that’s always late, dodging demands that he cannot meet. I also ponder something that hasn’t occurred to me: am I the asshole here, driving the crew too hard, thinking only of the film with disregard for its toll on everyone around me? My only excuse is that after all we’ve been through for this film, and the quality I can feel in much of it, I’m hell-bent to see it to the end.
The cast and I settle in for a lurk in the lobby. We call room service and order up some sandwiches and wine. The waiter overcharges us by at least 1000 lei, and when we ask for the bill to break it down, he brings us a receipt that neither he nor we can decipher. We pay without contest, beaten into submission by the persistent schemes of these fledgling capitalists.
STILL MORE TO COME. . .
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Ted Nicolaou
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