DON'T LEAVE HOME WITHOUT IT?
But the highlight of highlights had to be the $10,000 hazard fee we had to pay the stunt driver of the Mister Softee Ice Cream truck.
During the car chase scene in Bullitt, the Bad Guy GTO and Steve McQueen’s Mustang both jump a ridiculously steep hill in a neighborhood in San Francisco. It’s in Nob or Russian Hill. As long as I lived in the Bay Area I never knew where one of those neighborhoods started and the other ended. The director decided to duplicate that jump using the Vespa and the Mister Softee Ice Cream truck.
Did I mention that Michael Andretti drove Mister Softee?
Yes, he did. However for the stunt, we hired a SAG certified stunt driver. He received $10,000 per jump given the hazardous nature of the request. The operator of the Vespa, a Bay Area local, had the Bullitt chase scene on his bucket list. No one looked forward to that day more than these two stuntmen, and money did not enter into the equation. Maybe.
The day arrived. The street, clear of cars, save for two which necessitated a tow. Ridiculous because part of the art direction called for automobiles to be parked on both sides of the stretch of the jump. Two irate citizens of San Francisco would be knocking on the production office door a few days later to demand reimbursement of the $227 fine and the $75 ticket. Reasonable requests given that production had only given them TEN DAYS NOTICE.
You can guess how much money the two received as reimbursement.
The expensive vagaries of production dictated the cars on both sides of the street be under the jurisdiction of the company, so spots were filled and the location PAs (The ones hired by me, but no longer available to get lattes and chocolate biscuits, whatever they Hell they were.) hustled up and down the sidewalks warning occupants not to venture out until an ‘All Clear’ could be heard over the megaphone.
I ran from the confines of the motorhome in order to watch the jump. Sadly, I also had a walkie-talkie and the A.D. department enlisted me to help signal the Vespa and the Mister Softee Ice Cream truck from the top of the hill. I asked where the six other 2nd Assistant Directors were and got rebuffed immediately with some sort of gobbledygook from the 1st A.D., a harried Englishman with a shaved head who hailed from L.A. The incomprehensible excuses mounted and I finally broke the stream.
Me: “So they’re out getting lattes and chocolate biscuits?”
Sid Vapid, the A.D.: “If that lazy git of a production manager did his job, they wouldn’t have to.”
Me: “Really? If that lazy git of an A.D. and location manager could lock down a neighborhood with fewer resources than Eisenhower at D-Day, I’d have a spare PA or two. So why don’t you just kiss my—”
Sid Vapid, the A.D.: “Sorry mate, got a set to run. Cheers!”
Whenever anyone from England says “Cheers” to you, they have an image in their mind of shoving an icepick into one of your eyeballs.
I stationed myself on top of the hill looking down the slope towards the camera positions. The San Francisco based stunt man sat on the Vespa and continued to figure out how many laws of physics he could break before he ended up room temperature with an ID tag on his toe. The driver of the Mister Softee Ice Cream truck looked so calm, I thought I’d have to shove a mirror under his nose to see if it would fog.
That’s when I noticed the walkie-talkie lying just to the ice cream truck driver’s right. Sid, the A.D. ran through the instructions over the walkie once more.
Sid: “The call will be Roll A Camera, Roll B Camera, Roll C Camera, and then Background! All that before I call Action!”
During Sid’s clear cut description of the call, I noticed the ice cream truck driver’s walkie cutting out at, oh, every word. Sadly, for all of us, the only word(s) that the ice cream truck driver heard was “Action!”
I figured this out when I heard the gunning of the ice cream truck’s engine and the release of any emergency brake.
Me: “Sid (Not his real name)! The truck is making the jump!
Get everyone off the street!”
Sid: “Who’s the sodding b%$t@rd that sent the truck!?”
Me: “You! I’ll explain later. He’s approaching the crest of the hill.”
What an absolutely spectacular stunt. The driver got several feet of air under the vehicle and before it could take out the entire front end of the truck, it landed on the driver and passenger wheels and flew down the street.
You will have to take my word for it, as none of the three cameras rolled a millimeter of film on the event. The truck hit the brakes somewhere short of Alcatraz and turned around. After stopping for moment to speak with the A.D., the driver continued up the hill for another take, which would net him another $10,000.
He sang “Ain’t No Mountain High Enough” as he passed by. He even smiled and waved.
****
The shoot ended a day later with the last of the scenes needed to put together the film festival entrant, “Bullitt Redux.” While the crew from L.A., after diving into the hotel swimming pool at 3am, left for southern California, Yours truly and the production staff returned to the office to wrap the job and get the London contingent back across the pond.
The job wrapped smoothly, especially for such a large one. Credit goes to Joyce Quan, who dealt with the accounting and Petra Janopaul, who dealt with more production details than I think actually existed on the job.
I’ll even credit myself for putting up with the bunch from England who did seem more interested in the results of The World Cup than the seven figure job on which they worked. I worked on it. Petra and Joyce worked on it. I know I saw parts of the art department working on it. Even caught a glimpse of the 2nd A.C. changing a lens one of the days.
I still don’t know what a Gang Boss does.
We packed up the office, a temporary set-up in San Francisco’s Presidio, and I started my next gig, an episodic television show for John Wells of West Wing fame.
But not before a few things happened.
About a week after the shoot, I received a long email with a request to explain about 20 purchase orders and their attached invoices. One example:
P.O. #XYZ212 – Hotel Unknown – Room Service for Tuesday 6/12 $453.27
Room Service for Wednesday 6/13 $377.02
Room Service for Thursday 6/14 $298.98
Room Service for Friday 6/15 $477.55
Room Service for Tuesday 6/19 $822.88
Room Service for Wednesday 6/20 $375.30
Room Service for Thursday 6/21 $654.01
Room Service for Friday 6/22 $468.24
GRAND TOTAL A LOT
NOTE FROM GORGEOUS ENTERPRISES: Given the out of town crew was on Per Diem and got most of their meals during scouting and shooting, what do we attribute these charges?
And another:
P.O. #XYZ277 – Bob’s Electric – Installation of 220V Service $750.00
Removal of 220V Service $750.00
GRAND TOTAL $1500.00
NOTE FROM GORGEOUS ENTERPRISES: Since your country is on 110V service, is there any reason to install and then remove, just a day later, a 220V service?
And one more:
P.O. #XYZ243 – City of SF – Removal of streetlamp $1200.00
Replacement of streetlamp $1200.00
Nuisance Fee $ 100.00
GRAND TOTAL $2500.00
NOTE FROM GORGEOUS ENTERPRISES: Streetlamp removal?
To reiterate, there were 15, if not 20, P.O.s called into question. Closing the office and completing the wrap, did not stop me from an obligation to look through the purchase orders and the invoices another time. I reviewed them the first time during the official wrap. Every single one had been signed off by Caliguletta, the line producer.
Multiple conversations took place with the head of the accounting department. I’ve consolidated them.
Me: “I’ve reviewed the P.O.s and the invoices and found nothing the second time through that I didn’t find the first time. Caliguletta signed off on the lot of them. I didn’t see any missing signatures.”
Angry Accountant: “The job is $100,000 over budget. How do you explain that?”
Me: “We spent more money than what was in the budget.”
Angry Accountant: “This is no joke. You’ll need to re-actualize the job.”
Me: “Okay. Let me see if I can rent a couple of the offices we used for the shoot, and I’ll check Joyce and Petra’s availability. As soon as I tie that up, I’ll request—”
Angry Accountant: “We’re not spending any more money on this job.”
Me: “You don’t know how great it is to hear that. I don’t think that sentence left Caliguletta’s lips the entire time she was here.”
Angry Accountant: “Oh, so it’s the line producer’s fault, is it?”
Me: “Yes. That’s their job. The P.M. can tell you how the money got spent, but only the line producer can tell you why. I think you need to check with Caliguletta.”
Angry Accountant: “She quit a couple days after the shoot.”
Me: “That should tell you all you need to know.”
Angry Accountant: “So you won’t re-actualize the job?”
Me: “Not for free.”
A few days later the executive producer from Anonymous Content and Gorgeous Enterprises had me on the phone. I delineated the excess on the job which Caliguletta seemed perfectly fine approving. As far as my own transgressions, I admitted to a lack of haute cuisine and offered the Teamster’s fine for the absence of a Gang Boss be withdrawn from my salary. They demurred, but did insist that my next job for either company had better have Wolfgang Puck manning the hot truck.
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