Hollywood
Dreams
BY
RICHARD SHINNOW
Tanna Frederick,
the daughter of David and Nancy Frederick, the young woman who graduated from
Mason City High in 1995 and who was in all those Stebbens plays and high school
productions before that, is fulfilling a dream-she is starring in a Hollywood
movie.
Oh, she's been in
a couple of other movies, but those were small parts. Not this one.
In this one, titled ÒHollywood DreamsÓ, Tanna shares the lead with
co-star Justin Kirk who was recently nominated for an Emmy for his role in Mike
Nichols' film of ÒAngels In AmericaÓ.
Around them is a
strong ensemble which includes David Proval (ÒSopranosÓ), Melissa Leo (Ò21
GramsÓ), Paz de la Huera (ÒCiderhouse RulesÓ), Zack Norman (ÒFestival in
CannesÓ), and veteran actress Karen Black ÒFive Easy PiecesÓ.
Frederick's
connection to this film is its director, Henry Jaglom, who is famed in
Hollywood for the thirteen independent films he's made over the last thirty or
so years, films which explore the relationships within families and between men
and women. They met a few years
ago and Jaglom became her mentor.
Last year Tanna led the effort to revive an early play of Jaglom's, ÒA
Safe Place,Ó and starred in it to rave reviews in the Los Angeles' newspapers
and trade publications.
ÒHollywood DreamsÓ is about Margie
Chizek, a young woman from Iowa (sound familiar), who goes to Hollywood with
aspirations to become a star. Not
only has Jaglom based much of his story on his young actress, he has also
incorporated numerous references to Mason City into its dialogue. Although none of the film is shot here,
Iowa figures prominently in the movie.
About a month
before shooting began, I received an e-mail offering me a small part in the
movie and an opportunity to see how ÒHollywood DreamsÓ is made. I took a couple of seconds to think it
over before replying that I'd do it.
Fortunately, when
I arrive in Los Angeles, it is sunny.
It has been raining, and rain isn't good for making movies, but now the
weather has turned nice, again, so the director's spirits are buoyed. They have been shooting six straight
days, but they have a day off, and I meet Tanna and her director for
lunch. He looks very much like the
man I've seen in several of his previous films but, of course, older-around
sixty, I'd say.
Tanna is thinner
than I've ever seen her-camera thin, I call it-because the camera adds weight
here and there. It occurs to me
that if I actually do get on screen, I'm going to look like Dumbo.
They are relaxed
from which I infer that things are going well. My part in the movie is to be Leon, one of two butlers, but
as we talk and the director learns more about me, he and Tanna begin to bounce
ideas off one another and a new character is evolved for me-a writing professor
from Iowa who has written a novel that has been optioned for a movie. I can only hope that life imitates art.
As we part, Tanna
gives me a hug and a 130 page outline of the film which Jaglom uses instead of a script because
it gives him the flexibility his technique requires.
My first day with
an actual movie begins by driving to base camp, a parking lot just off
Interstate 405, from which we are ferried by van up into the hills to a large
house where shooting takes place.
It is on a cul de sac which is already crowded with a generator truck,
two trailers, and assorted other vehicles. Near the side entrance where we go in is a long table laden
with snacks and coffee and tea and soft drinks and water which, I will learn,
are available for whenever we need them.
The double garage is crowded with lights and other gear which overflows
onto the patio.
The house belongs
to Zack Norman, who has known and worked with the director for years, and it is
what most of us think of as pure Hollywood. It's most spectacular feature is the long, stone patio that
runs the length of the house beyond which lies a stunning vista of the San
Fernando Valley-just like in the movies.
At around
$2,000,000 this is a low-budget movie by Hollywood standards where a star like
Julia Roberts gets $15,000,000 just to show up, but it looks pretty elaborate
to me. When I look at the call
sheet that the assistant director gives us, I count 26 people who are involved
in some aspect of the shooting plus the 15 actors who are required to be on
set, today. Besides these folks,
others are involved with the office work, catering services, or driving the 11
vehicles the production requires.
I, like a number of other actors, am being paid the Screen Actors Guild
(SAG) minimum of sixteen hundred and twenty bucks for the few days I'm putting
in.
Shooting begins
at 1:00 pm and ends 9 hours later and Tanna Frederick works in every
scene. This may be her first big
role, but there isn't a hint of indecisiveness about any thing she does. Every line and every expression is
consistently on the mark, even when there are multiple takes. Although Jaglom often coaches or
cajoles others involved in a scene, he seldom tinkers with anything she
does. They've worked on the outline
together, and it's clear that they share a vision of how these scenes are
supposed to look on screen.
I sit or stand
behind the camera set-up or off to the side, watching the proceedings and the
TV monitor attached to the camera through which the director can observe the
composition and movement of a shot.
They shoot on the patio until after sunset, and I'm amazed that they can
keep working with so little available natural light, but they go on until it's
almost dark and getting cold.
Each actor wears
a hidden microphone and each scene is also recorded through an overhead
boom. The director wears a headset
so that he can hear exactly what's being recorded as the scene takes place. A couple of times they must stop as
planes drone overhead.
Around 5 we break
for ÒlunchÓ which is catered to tables set up in the driveway of an adjacent
house. For some reason the only
lighting is impracticably provided by candles, but the lighting crew quickly
brings equipment in and we are
able to see our food which is hot and plentiful and delicious.
The most involved
scene of the night takes place in the spacious living room and involves 8
actors and requires 11 takes and there is some fraying of emotions, but Jaglom
keeps after what he wants, insisting and insisting until an actor gives it to
him. Even late in the
evening, there isn't the slightest reduction in his intensity or attention to
detail. Except for lunch, he's the
only person who hasn't had a moment of break, but 8 hours later he's going as
strong as he was when the day began..
Yesterday Jaglom
told me that I'd be doing something onscreen today, and my nervousness woke me
this morning at 6:30. I work on
this article for an hour or so, then go to have my Òhead shotÓ taken in the morning
by the producer's husband, Adrian, who has generously offered to do it for
free. A head shot is just that, a
photo of my face which is required by SAG.
Adrian is an
Aussie transplant who has worked for years as a film editor and, more recently,
as a director. During the hour I
spend with him at his home he talks movies and more movies. As he shoots my photos, he gives me
tips on how to energize myself before a scene. It reinforces, again, what a powerful affliction the movie
virus is.
I get to the set
at 2 and sit around until almost 9 when Jaglom calls me forward from the edge
of the set into the lights. The
butterflies in my stomach all take flight. I have just watched Melissa Leo, who plays Bee, Margie's
aunt from Iowa, and Karen Black, who plays Luna, a disdainful Hollywood drama
coach, play a wonderful, mostly improvised scene together.
Now, without
prior notice, the director wants Black and me to do a scene in which my
character, Leon, the theatre professor from Iowa, is ridiculed by Black's
character for not training Margie effectively for the movies. It takes place at a party, so each of
us holds a glass of wine and stands only inches from the other.
ÒNow Karen is
going to say this to you,Ó Jaglom instructs, Òand then we'll see what you come
up with.Ó This might seem cruel to
some, possibly an embarrassing set-up for me, but I know that it isn't. It reflects his confidence that I will
come up with something that will work, the same confidence I've seen him
demonstrate with others so many times.
Three days ago, my character and this scene did not exist, but now Karen
Black and I are about to bring them to life.
It is a good
scene for me, because I know how I would react if someone were to deride Iowa,
to put down the training that Margie would have gotten at the University of
Iowa, the same university, I chide Luna, that Tennessee Williams attended back
in the 40's, the university famed for its Writers' Workshop. My reply to her is forceful and natural
and the director tells us that he likes it a lot and I have now completed my
first scene in the movies.
In the next scene
Tanna delivers a beautiful long exclamation of Margie's hopes and dreams of
becoming a famous actress. Then,
the director yells cut and turns to those of us who are watching with a pleased
smile. It is almost ten o'clock,
but the night has ended on a crescendo that sends the actors-us-energized and
babbling out to the waiting vans.
The next day I
hang around the set, watching, and occasionally getting into a conversation
with the other actors. Since they
don't know that I am essentially an imposter, they chat easily about the movie
at hand or others that I've seen them in.
They are all otherwise ÒnormalÓ people who are committed to a life of
make-believe-it's quite wonderful.
Karen Black, who
I first saw in ÒEasy RiderÓ in 1969, is just as exotic as I had expected, and
David Proval is so physically Richie Aprillo, the character he played in the
ÒSopranosÓ, that I can't disconnect him from that role. When I talk with Justin Kirk, I find
that he is from Minneapolis. There
is a deep quietness about him that I can't help but like. Here, he is playing Robin, Margie's
romantic interest, but just last night I saw him on HBO, playing an anguished
dramatic role with Meryl Streep in ÒAngels in America.Ó
Later in the
afternoon Eric Roberts and his wife come in. No written dialogue exists for Roberts, so Jaglom is
improvising, again. Roberts asks a
number of questions as he tries to get a grasp of his character, but the
director gives him as little as possible to keep the sense of his character
being a newcomer to the action of the film.
When the scene
finally begins, Roberts launches into a long, completely unrehearsed bit that
Margie breaks into with comments about Iowa, pigs, and her grandmother
Chizek. It is so convincing that I
wince with embarrassment. When the
actor leaves a few hours later, the crew claps, apparently in homage to his
star status.
In the evening we
are shooting a party scene for which an elaborate table with real food is
set. While the scene is being
prepared, Tanna emerges from the dressing room in a one beautiful dress after
another which the director emphatically does not approve of. Finally, with the fifth selection, he
is happy-effusively so-so they can go ahead with the scene. It leaves me wondering just how many
dresses they had available back there for this particular scene.
There are a
number of attractive women on the set, the make-up girls especially, but also
production assistants, but none of them could wear these dresses the way that
Frederick does. I know that she
was required to lose ten pounds for this film, and this is the payoff for she
is so slender and elegant that each dress seems to have been made just for her
and just for this particular scene.
It's A Wrap
The last evening
we work until midnight. Although I
have no scenes, I wait around, still enjoying the experience, chatting between
takes with one or another of the 20 or so people I'm on a first name basis
with. In the last hour or so, I
can see the actors' weariness.
Tanna and David Proval are quietly learning lines for the next rather
involved scene, but Zack Norman doesn't even attempt to get his down, so the
director feeds them to him as his scene goes on.
Then, finally,
the last shot of the movie is completed, and the actors who still remain begin
to leave, a band of gypsies scattering into the glittering Los Angeles night,
some to new roles, some to uncertainty, some on the way up, some on the way
down.
For me, it's back
to Iowa and the reassuring predictability of my ÒrealÓ life. Jaglom has promised that we will have a
local premiere of the movie back in Mason City, and I'm looking forward to it. I can't wait to see and hear how all of
the work that went into ÒHollywood DreamsÓ will come together on the big
screen.