Time enough for coffee
He is patient and curious.
He has great hands which seem to be constantly searching.
He does not need to have anything done makeup-wise.
He is prepared to do all the scenes, even the ones outside… despite it being at least -13.
Our metaphysical monster has claws, that poke, gouge, snag, reach, all the qualities of a surgical swiss army knife that grows out of your hand.
Nature has used this facility.
Sometimes with not so happy outcomes.
Though in fairness, it’s not as bad as it looks… yes a bit of aluminium caused a minor conjunctival laceration, but Matt, the ‘up for a joke’ eye doctor here in Virginia, enjoyed the idea of my winding Billy up and laid the plaster on heavy.
A hiccup to our plan for total efficiency.
We have all been staying at the same hotel, the same place we have breakfast, the same as the production office, the rehearsal space, the wardrobe, my Claw world, all handy here in the centre of Virginia… but there was a previous booking which the hotel has to honour.
By lunchtime today, we’d all packed our bags and vacated… that the other party could take over.
An unmarked trailer pulls up and the ‘wolf’ cage is taken into the masked off pool area, plus trolley loads of towels and spanking tables. The mind bogles.
Late afternoon finds me in my workspace, prepping claws, where I am unexpectedly visited by a corpulent ‘Bo Peep’, complete with ringlets, plastic crook and stuffed lamb… she’s wandering very lost. She looks around… at my table of creature bits and there’s an “Oh my!” intake of breath, with swelling of significant bosom… I wonder if she thought the claws might be part of the ‘wolves’ weekend of frolics?
We might not be using the pool after… not without all its surfaces being thoroughly scrubbed!
Filming in the dawn today… got to drive Crowley’s car which is an early ’80s white caddy, complete with broom broom engine, brown leather upholstery, walnut dash, chrome switches.
The instructions read:
Start ten minutes before you want to go anywhere.
The brake light came on half way here… they’re a bit soft.
Don’t lock the doors… you’ll never open them again.
Plates are legal, but no tags & no insurance, so don’t get stopped by the coppers.
Started the engine – great clouds of exhaust push out into the lot. Can’t find the best defrost setting, so get out and scrape off the accumulated frosting with the trusty credit card.
Sitting like a child on the bench seat, I’m in another era; one of absolute certainty… before Kennedy & King and 911.
Can’t see out however, as my breath has now frozen into spiked finger patterns on the windscreen… more scraping.
At least ten minutes, but it is minus -11.
I push the lever into drive and move off in stately fashion.
It’s like driving a boat, while sitting on a sofa.
I’m a stunt driver.
She’s in very good condition for an old girl, low mileage – someones pride and joy, judging by the paintwork – kept under sheets in the garage, save for the Sunday & Highday drives. That proud owner is unlikely with us… driving a similar white caddy in the sky no doubt.
It becomes immediately apparent that the brakes aren’t soft, they just don’t work… as I approach the stop light and try to ease to a halt, nothing happens – so I just cross it at walking pace, waving apologies to the cars that had been expecting to proceed on green. But we’ve got the take… apparently, it looked just right for ‘old man driving’.
Afterwards breakfast at The Royal Cafe (unchanged since the day the caddy was wheeled off the production line)… we all have the bacon & egg special, with handheld tech gadgets on the side, while the more mature Max just enjoys his veggie omelette & the ambience.
Spent the day being driven around Minneapolis, here’s where the building blocks are being cemented into place. Once we’re in The Iron Ranges, the logistics will become more difficult.
It all seems easy right now, I have light, heat, secure space & wifi… I know that it won’t be so easy, when we’re shooting outdoors at -32.
mississippi, minniapolis, minnisotta.
Till about 1830, this was mostly Indian territory… successive ‘agreements’ meant that the native peoples had less possession of this place, were pushed away.
That they were in this place is now barely visible, no ghost singing heard on the wind, that whips between the tall buildings.
But you can buy reproduction moccasins from the mall gift store – I don’t think however, that they’d be as effective in the conditions outside as the original elk versions, that hark back to the stone age… the point at which the potential of that greatest of human inventions was first understood… the needle.
No glamorous Beverley Hills office, with polished desk and intercom… instead, meetings in Coffee Corner, Cuzzy’s Diner, hotel apartment, anywhere that has Wifi, somewhere to sit and beverages
Day goes to night… coffee to beer… decisions get made, things continue to form, the curve balls are fielded.
Mr L has arrived and Billy, Robbie & Nick’s had dinner with him… the mood is very positive. Maybe enhanced just a bit by the drinks consumed.
I own the Street
Gate-Rise over breakfast
I’m leaving, on a jet plane…
The go ahead came through on Friday evening. Very excited and couldn’t sleep.
Saturday, I travelled to London… After a final fish curry at Shilpa’s (a favourite), back to David’s, where his bunk bed holds me for a few wakeful hours.
This morning… at stupid-o-clock, to Heathrow… and now I don’t want to purchase Victoria’s Secret’s lingerie, even if it is duty free.
Midnight US – 6am UK, and I’m lying on a sofa bed in a hotel in Minneapolis, talking through storyboards. Earlier, we watched most of the Oscar ceremony at Jakk, the producers house… it’s all gone very surreal for me.
Tomorrow/later today it begins in ernest.