Fair Game Blog — The Not-So-Secret Service
Craig MacNee
I head to work on Friday morning under the impression that I am merely going to be driving the picture car (a Jeep Cherokee) down to Washington, D.C., then getting the train back up to New York the same day. However, when I arrive at the production office, Doug asks me whether I want to shoot behind the scenes and assist him on set.
Thirty minutes later I’m driving south on I-95, video camera in the passenger seat, armed with fresh batteries and HD-DV tapes.
And then it dawns on me. I’m completely ill prepared for anything more than a night. I have no clothes apart from the ones on my back and absolutely no toiletries.
Fortunately, appearing like a mirage upon the horizon is a monstrous Walmart. I enter this behemoth of a store seeking some underwear, socks, and toiletries. I walk around for what seems about three miles. People may be piling high fructose corn syrup into their shopping carts here, but at least they’re probably burning a few calories trying to find everything. I leave the store with all the provisions I need, including enough batteries for my mic to survive through a nuclear apocalypse and a few packets of those little half-sock things, which I always believe are a good idea but I never actually end up wearing. Dammit! Why do I always buy them?
I arrive in Washington in the evening and get a good view of the lit-up Capitol building as I arrive. I’m going to be staying not too far away from this majestic building, along with D.L. and A.L. in Doug’s cousin’s house. Besides shooting behind the scenes, one of my other main duties on set is to answer Doug’s BlackBerry, which can usually be found attached to his hand like he’s evolved a new appendage. I also take it upon myself to make sure I have a can of Diet Coke ready to proffer him at opportune moments, as it seems to be his fuel. I’ve never seen him actually eat anything larger than a cashew.
We arrive at the first location. There is a bigger crew than we had for the “bandit shoot” we did in upstate New York earlier, with actual trailers and craft service vans this time, but the whole production is still relatively small. The filming begins with a car being rigged up with a camera for some driving shots. I begin my behind-the-scenes filming, which involves a lot of lurking and loitering, trying to capture the creative process. When they start shooting, I literally stand right behind the camera crew. It sometimes feels a bit like filming an elaborate dance routine, following these guys as they shoot.
After an hour or so, we move to the second location: a park bench that sits between the Lincoln Memorial and the White House. It’s also the haunt of a bunch of Secret Service vehicles, whose drivers insist that we only film in the opposite direction from them. Strangely, they also insist that none of our equipment can be set up underneath the trees. I can’t quite comprehend how obstructing falling leaves is an issue of national security but it seems best to comply given that these guys are all over the place here. It’s both disconcerting and reassuring at the same time. What most strikes me, however, is their total lack of secrecy. They wear uniforms and drive squad cars, for Pete’s sake! Or maybe they’re just the decoy for the secret secret service. I’m keeping my specs on for homeless guys with earpieces.
Naomi Watts and Bruce McGill share an important scene on this bench. James Pavitt, the Deputy Director for operations for the C.I.A., compels Valerie to encourage her husband to stop his campaign against those in the White House who outed her. It’s an amazing experience to watch and listen to the process. Especially since I’ve radio-miked Doug so I can hear all the direction he gives the actors. It seems like being a Director is a little bit akin to being a sports coach; it’s about infusing the actors with that extra ounce of energy in there performance and stressing exactly what is working and what is not. It’s quality control.
Engrossed by the action, I find myself drawing closer and closer to the actors (or maybe I’m just zooming), until I start to become convinced that it is only a matter of time before one of them calls me out on my presence and throws a Christian Bale-esque tantrum. Thankfully, such fears prove unwarranted.
Did I mention that it rained? And didn’t stop the whole weekend? All I was wearing was a T-shirt and a thin jacket because it had been sunny in New York when I left. Typical. Coming from Scotland, I’m usually impervious to wet weather. However, what you always forget is that when shooting a film you are virtually stationary and exposed to the elements for something like 12 hours straight. There’s a reason you see all these directors wearing those huge, fur-hooded Michelin Man jackets. It gets really, really cold out there.
In the evening, we break into an even smaller unit: Doug, perilously hanging out the back of a minivan operating the RED; Eric, pulling focus; and Avram, driving the van. Behind them I ride in the picture car with Peggy, location manager extraordinaire, as we drive around Georgetown and pretend to be Joe and Valerie arguing in the car… Your move, Sean and Naomi.
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