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TV & Film - Articles |
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| Watching the Parade (Part I) |
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By
Peter Haig
One of the first jobs I had in the movie
business was working for Hunt Lowry. He was
a co-producer on the Roger Corman film
Humanoids From the Deep. The year was 1979
and he must have been in his mid twenties. I
had been hired as the Second Unit Production
Manager and 1st AD, mainly because I had had
lunch with Jon Davison a few days earlier at
a small Chinese restaurant on Argyle Street
in Hollywood. I doubt the restaurant is
still there although you’ll probably find
numerous Thai versions within walking
distance. Jon had recently produced
Airplane, directed by the Zucker brothers,
after several years working for Roger Corman
in marketing and advertising at New World
Pictures. His short tenure there had
resulted in Roger making more money from his
four-wall distribution efforts with pictures
like Piranha and Avalanche than he ever had
before! They were so successful that Jon,
I’m sure working for minimum wage since
starting with New World after graduating
from NYU several years earlier, got up the
nerve to ask Roger for the raise he felt he
deserved. Or maybe he just needed to pay the
rent. Roger’s answer was predictably Roger.
“Jon,” he said confidentially, “let me tell
you something about Hollywood. Everyone is
dispensable.”
So Jon accepted an offer he had secretly
tucked in his back pocket to go work for the
Zuckers. He was working with the young team
that had seen success with their first
feature, Kentucky Fried Movie. But he didn’t
get paid for the next year and a half while
they raised money. Well, set-the-project-up
is probably more accurate as they got Howard
Koch involved and Paramount took Airplane on
and made a fortune! I doubt that Jon or the
Zuckers have ever looked back. But I
digress. I was explaining the main reason I
got my first job in Hollywood was lunch with
Jon, a former NYU classmate of mine who I
knew had successfully made the transition
from film student wannabe to Hollywood
somebody.
After two months in LA I was getting
interminably frustrated at travelling to and
from my bartending job at Hamburger Hamlet
and inevitably passing blocks filled with
production vans and star wagons at least
once a week. Somebody was making movies and
it wasn’t me. Worse, I suppose, was whenever
I went into any 7-11, anywhere in town, and
reached for a Slim Jim or bag of Doritos, I
was staring at the headlines of Variety or a
Hollywood Reporter. I guess I could have
consoled myself with the fact that at least
I had made it to tinsel town! But the
burning question in my mind was how was I
gonna make it in Tinsel Town. Which drove me
to look up and phone Jon, who I had known at
school but couldn’t really count as a
friend. I wondered if he’d remember me when
I made that call, and I can’t remember for
the life of me today how I got his number.
Of course, I was delighted when he asked how
I was doing and offered to take me to lunch,
even though it turned out to be at Chow Fats
Tainted Dragon.
After all the catching up was done, and I
was eagerly crumbling my fortune cookie and
carefully unfurling the thin slip of paper
within while he blissfully let his lay on
the plate, he told me to go see a friend of
his, Hunt, who was producing this picture
for Roger. “Tell him I told you to call, and
tell him you know how to drive a stake bed.”
I remember distinctly, after thanking him
profusely for the lunch and job tip, as I
got up to leave, he added, “By the way
Peter, have you ever been on a real movie
set?” “Of course,” I affirmed. Although, as
the thoughts whirled through my head, I knew
the only actual feature I had worked on was
a documentary called Out of the Closet, shot
in one week on which I was the assistant
cameraman, part of a crew of three that was
supposedly making an intelligent documentary
about gay rights.
You see, the art of making movies, in some
form or fashion, seems to ever revolve
around manipulating the truth. Somehow, I
think, there’s a connection there with
drama. It’s all just a journey to the Land
of Oz, and lo and behold… although we all
want to go home… look, there’s the man
behind the curtain!
And so I confess. I lied. The main reason I
got that first job is not really because I
knew Jon Davison, but because I said I knew
how to drive a stake bed. Yes, I was hired
as the 2nd Unit PM and 1st AD. But mainly
because they needed someone to drive a
truck, the stake bed, filled with Rob
Botin’s special make-up fx materials, latex,
and molds, and rubber suits that would
become the Humanoids, half man, half fish,
that climbed from the sea to threaten a
small coastal fishing town and life as we
know it! They needed someone to pick up
Rob’s supplies from his garage in El Monte
and drive them up to Mendecino, well north
of San Francisco by 8:00 am the next day. I
was hired on the spot.
How do you break into Hollywood? How do you
get started? How do you manage that career?
How do you get to the top? I’ve been asked
to contribute some thoughts, a blog, an
article, some comments, a perspective on how
to get into the movie business. And I’ve
accepted and embark upon this mission with
enthusiasm because I’ve been working at it
myself for the last thirty years! Which
should, by all rhyme and reason, make me
some sort of expert. But Hollywood is a
fickle lady! There are a few things you can
count on… there is no such thing as a slam
dunk in the movie business… the check is in
the mail… and if it was that easy, everyone
would be doing it!
I dare say that most people would agree on
the basics – it takes passion, talent, and
luck, and not necessarily in that order, nor
in proportionate amounts.
I ain’t got the roadmap, but I’ve got some
tips. I can tell you the difference between
the Martini and the Abby Singer. But
nowadays you can find that information on
the Internet. In the tradition of Hollywood,
my ambition is monumental. I plan to cover
everything. I’ll start at the beginning, and
be very general. What do you do if you want
to work in film. And I plan to get very
specific. What can you do if you want to
become a producer, a director, a director of
photography, a production designer, etc. I
hope to become more informative and talk
about what you can do to advance your
career, get a better agent, switch from
designing to directing. But no promises…
except that, if anyone has a particular
concern, please ping me an email. I’d be
happy to let readers steer this
conversation. After thirty years, if nothing
else, I hope I’ve learned to listen.
Peter
Haig can be contacted
here.
Read Part
II
Copyright
June 2008 Peter Haig. All rights
reserved.
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