Canadian Film Digest (Nov 1972)

The Canadian Film Digest group and after the meal rotated around from table to table. It was less crowded and more personal and casual in this fashion. The main topic of conversation was the critical reaction. The response was essentially two out of three favorable from the Toronto dailies. But the box office was all favorable, soit was felt that the trip was a success in Toronto. That only left New York, Los Angeles, and countless others to conquer. And so they set off to do battle with communication once more. Young Winston was marching, alll November 1972 Page 11 SUBSCRIBE NOW! ! ! Here’s how to keep up with what’s happening in the Canadian Film Industry in one easy lesson: Subscribe NOW to the Canadian Film Digest Send $7.50 for one year or $12.00 for two years To: Subscriptions Toronto 5 Covering all aspects of Distribution, Production, and Exhibition in Canada. The Canadian Film Digest 175 Bloor St. East Remember: The Yearbook is included in your subscription. Notes From Nevada: On Location with Matthau and Siegel BY LLOYD CHESLEY Preproduction: Original title was The Looters, from a novel (a project that once interested Peter Bogdanovich). Donald Sutherland was set to be the lead in midsummer, but other engagements forced him to delay, so Universal dropped him and found Walter Matthau. The script was then partially re-written to tailor it to Matthau. The lead character is now done more tongue-in-cheek (I feel) than it may have been in the earlier script. Charley Varrick is the working title, but Siegel prefers The Last of the Independents. Expense: The financial success of Dirty Harry earned Siegel a bigger budget here — just under $3 million. Siegel talks facetiously of Matthau costing most of it. The scene being shot (between Matthau and co-star Andy Robinson) occurs inside a trailer, yet 2bout 3540 of the film’s crew of over 50 members were there: hanging around and performing duties to fulfill union regulations: three men were needed to affix a gelatin to a window with gaffer tape; eight men crowded around a camera for a shot — only three were needed and there was barely room for Siegel. Money appears ‘‘wasted’”’ in other ways: a Greyhound bus and driver sit at the location all day to drive some of the crew home — I rode in it with only ten other people; the lunch was quite royal: fruit and vegetable salads, spare ribs, potatoes, macaroni, two types of pie and soft drinks. But Siegel is a fast, economical worker. He’s three days ahead of schedule, and seemed to waste very little time between takes (between scenes is something else, as in all films). And, while he was filming this interior scene, he had a second unit out doing a car on fire. Crew and Relationships: The set is not especially raucous or jocular. Siegel’s mellowness (and refusal to worry about things visibly) seems to make for a subdued atmosphere. There are three types of crew members: old-timers, young long-hairs, and semi-cowboy labourers. They all get along well, Siegel has very little relationship with the lower crew members, though he is amiable. His relation to his actors and cameraman is most important, Siegel and Matthau constantly joke with each other, putting the other down with a sleepy, cynical wit. Siegel is a “comforter” — putting his arms around his actors to talk to them, and around Matthau’s wife, as he tries to cajole her into stopping her ‘pestering’ on the set (she wanted to catch some early plane, thereby necessitating an earlier quitting time so Matthau could leave earlier. Others on the Set: A unit photographer who will shoot about 5,000 exposures during the course of shooting. A nurse (union regulation). A continuity woman. These were the only two women seen that day. A set decorator who is rarely present at the place of shooting — he’s usually at the next set to be filmed, preparing it. The screenwriter, Dean Riesner, was not present at any of the movie’s shooting. The Setting: A trailer park in Dayton Nevada (supposed to be New Mexico!). The climate is sunny, with dry sage-brush hills. The crew is centred around a rather old trailer (to be used in this scene). Its body has been cut and _ for Charlie Verrick tailored in such a way as to easily facilitate camera movements: break-away walls; extra platforms, etc. Production Notes: I don’t believe Matthau was wearing any make-up (he has a ruddy complexion), but his teeth had make-up to tone down their whiteness. The lights used were left on for the entire day, rather than bothering to ‘turn them on and off. A sharp bell-alarm was sounded by one crew-member at the start and finish of each take. Siegel has no rehearsal period before production, but before shooting a scene he rehearses once with the actors in his trailer, and then has one walk-through (with blocking) on the set. While lunching with him, he juggled his shooting schedule around slightly, in order to adjust to the eccentricities of an elderly woman cast in a character role. Much of the repartee between Siegel and Matthau was I-Spyish insulting, often in the form of Jewish ethnic cracks (Siegel, born Jewish, is agnostic). The area was littered with cables, stands, platforms, lumber and many tracks. Description: It’s a clear Nevada sky brushStroked with white clouds. Brown hills are polka-dotted green as the sagebrush and you can hear a brook actually bubble behind you. But in front of you are five tracks, thirty men and women and an old trailer covered in black felt and surrounded by lights. Every now and then you can hear the cackle of Andy Robinson, the screen’s newest top villain, or the sleepy Suggestions .of master actiondirector Don Siegel. And if you listen closely you might hear the thoughtful, slurred voice of Walter Matthau. Then the rehearsal is over. An order for quiet is barked from inside the trailer. It is repeated over a bull-horn by an assistantdirector in a civil-war hat. There is quiet from all within thirty seconds, ‘‘Rolling”’ from inside the tent, “Rolling”? over the bullhorn. A loud bell clangs for a long moment. Then everyone is still and tense, listening to the scene they can’t see and reacting to what they barely can hear, ‘‘Kill it.”” The bell rings twice. ‘“‘Cut” over the bullhorn. And action resumes outside the world of the movie again. And Matthau led a round of applause each time she finished the scene successfully. More trouble came during that scene as the sounds of mini-motorcycles (ridden by two ten-year-old daredevils), barking dogs and planes _interrupted. But finally they got it and the boys work ended ahead of schedule as Siegel always manages to be The Name of the Movie: The book was called The Looters but Siegel has used little of that book. He decided on Last of the Independents. But the studio heads like to feel they contribute something, so they changed it to Charley Varrick, This time Siegel doesn’t mind, although he has been plagued by losing titles he likes, most especially Friday, Saturday and Sunday, which became Madigan. Item: Dirty Harry had another ending in which Harry keeps his badge. Siegel didn’t like it, but Eastwood insisted. By the time they got to shooting, Siegel had so tutored Eastwood in the character and story that the actor didn’t even ask to have his ending shot. Donald Siegel: AS we came on the set he ambled from where he was working to greet us. “A great director has to know everything. Take rocks for example.’’ He bent to the ground and picked some up, tossing them into a nearby river, commenting on wind, weight and arthritis. His style is easy, almost somnambalistic, his eyes half-closed, his speech a measured chawl. Yet he is known for the highest action films today. Amongst the many crew members he almost looks like he’s in the way. Before a shot he quips, ‘‘Let’s shoot it; no one’s gonna watch it anyway.” He is known for a temper he likes to control. He knows he must keep everyone at ease with his own mellow manner. Besides, his career is so filled with hassles and fights that he has carried, it isn’t worth it to worry. “Show me the man who shoots the most and I’ll show you the greatest artist.’’ But he only does a minimum of takes. “Y’m lazy. I get bored.” Actually he has been trained in the lowbudget school, to do his best work coming in days under schedule. He is enjoying financial luxury for the first time in his career. He eats his lunch from a fridge in his own van. “Studios like to save money. That stuff’ll get you ptomaine poisoning.’ His present financial Stability, since Dirty Harry, and the power it has brought makes him feel younger than ever. He likes to live dangerously. That’s why he picked Michael Butler, age twenty-six, as cameraman. Butler, from commercials in New York, has never done a feature. But he likes to ‘take chances, too. One evening Siegel caught a particular shadow of the sun. He changed the scene to one shot at the unheard-of length of over five minutes, to take advantage of what attracted him. While we were on location, a second unit crew was out filming a burning car. “What do you tell them?” ‘“‘Good luck.” Siegel began directing in the second unit department and knows that that crew’s job is to tailor their footage in the style of the primary unit. He rarely uses a second unit, but now that he’s sixty he feels the need and wisdom of that luxury. He sees Charley Varrick as a reaction to Dirty Harry. His tone is light, and it deals with action, not violence. Any violence is quick and mostly there are spectacular chases and crashes rather than brutality. But for Siegel, the action is used to describe chardcter: how a man can handle himself, for example. Not one foot will be shot in the studio, This way he can be far away and safe from studio heads. Also it makes everything feel more realistic, so when you go out a door, you are indeed outside. He moves his camera to aid his actors. He likes natural performances and has his actors speak over each other for that end. He has them speak in movement, again for naturalism, and also to increase the pace. He treats his discovery Andy Robinson like a son while directing him, his arm around his shoulder. With Matthau, the older professional, it is cool team-work, well tempered with kidding and insults. Presently he is interested in two projects: an anti-war film set in Africa before World War II, showing how British and Italians who work there together must fight each other. Another project is a novel called Strange Peaches. They are still best of friends, but it appears. Siegel and Clint Eastwood have decided to go their own ways artistically. He disputed Playboy’s intent to do a spread at the Mustang Ranch, a whore house in Sparks, Nevada. A location for the film, it does not feature Matthau, which Playboy wants to do. Although he is also producing, he doesn’t like to mislead potential viewers, even for so lucrative a hunk of publicity. Walter Matthau: He really walks that way: hunched over, ambling, the pleased smile of a little boy on his face. He is very mellow and professional. Neither spectators nor having his body wired with microphones bothers him. anymore. He is totally intuitive. He feels he sets up a definite rapport and style with a director but does so unconsciously. He prefers not to watch the dailies. He may find himself at home acting like a character he is playing. He feels too much intellect gets in the way when playing a role. He likes to take it easy. Between work he reads, walks, tosses a frisbee. Mostly he likes to kid around; there is more kidding, the more serious is the film. Today he had to go into and come out of a small bathroom in one Shot. While inside he saw a can of shaving cream. He applied a huge amount to his nose and came out calling “‘Make-up!’’ Often he gets bored in the middle of a big production, like Hello Dolly. Mostly between takes and during lunch he occupies himself with his little son, Charley (about nine), playing with him with incredible affection and pride. He doesn’t like violent films and claims he is the reason Siegel is toning things down. He hasn’t done any Stunts since his first film, The Kentuckian. During that he broke a finger. “‘The reward for stunts is forty-five dollars per week workman’s compensation.’ He works warmly with Andy Robinson, helping and coaching paternally as they work together to find their relationship. When asked about his film with Carol Burnett for Martin Ritt he said, “It’s a kind of tragicomedy — like life is.” His plans may include a four-part anthology, Ya Know! Can’t Hear You When The Water’s Running. He would direct Jack Lemon in two segments and then they would switch for the other two. Siegel has found himself becoming like Matthau in gesture and action, he says. Day Two: After the fifteenth take of a shot I asked Matthau what kept him going. ‘‘Money.” He doesn’t change a reading each time he does it as he would in the theatre, In the theatre each night offers a change of audience, a change of chemistry. ‘‘Movies have nothing to do with grips, gaffers, nurses, drivers, etc. They are not creative.’’ His sense of humour is always showing, but he seems to believe all this. ‘‘I don’t like acting much.” ‘What would you rather do?” ‘‘Movies.’”’ Movies offer money, nice places to go, with his family if he wants, and nice people to work with. Stories: He told a friend how much he earns. His friend said, ‘‘Walter, how did you ever push your way intoit?’’ Arthur Miller was asked how much he earns. He answered some large amount. “‘What for?” ‘‘Writing.” ‘All that for writing?” “‘Yes.”’ “I shoulda done that.”