Cinema Canada (Apr-May 1978)

Sylvester Stallone with Bob New, John Watson and Pen Densham The script called for a whole fleet of rare period trucks from the thirties, all looking new. So, you advertise, track down and repair twenty or so classic vehicles rescued from old barns across America, and assemble your collection in Dubuque. Two thousand miles away from Hollywood’s facilities, the production company takes over a large empty factory, touches up the outside to enhance its thirties look, uses it as a set, and utilizes the inside for all the specialty trades, creating areas for production offices, wardrobes, paintshop, props, carpentry, special effects, etc. A scene requiring several hundred actors is to be shot against a background which includes a threestory building, looking very white and new. It won’t work for the era, so the building is painted a smokestained brown, while production goes on around it. The film includes riot sequences where hundreds of inexperienced extras battle each other; the props department devises and manufactures hundreds of’ realistic-looking weapons — axe handles, tire irons, rocks, rifles, tree branches as clubs, etc., made of foam rubber and balsawood. The crew who worked with Laszlo Kovacs, the DOP, had worked with him on many previous movies, and the value of this was proven in time saved. Lighting changes and camera setups were always accomplished with minimum fuss and direction, but not everything worked smoothly. When Norman was working with a large group of extras he was fitted with a wireless mike, patched into a loud speaker system. The plan went well until the pressure of shooting sent a few private and less-than-complimentary observations about the intelligence of a certain stuntman ringing around the set. The plug was pulled. At one point, when the shooting was on a rooftop, an electric generator caught fire. Instantly, the crew had extinguishers in action, seemingly pulled from nowhere. Jewison and Stallone, who co-wrote the script, worked well together. Jewison would have his vision of a scene, but he would allow Stallone to explore its potentials. It was fascinating to watch Stallone improve the effect of a scene. From take to take, he would push for more emotion from his character, finding new ways of showing the feelings of Johnny Kovak. Jewison controlled his set fairly tightly. You were always aware of his presence, and a voice which could float from a whisper to a whipcrack. He is very much of an actor himself — he played every part in the movie through his own mind before committing the real thing to film. Undertaking the combined roles of producer and director required Jewison to view the filmmaking process both creatively and financially. This control enabled him to fine-tune his vision far more effectively than if he had been a director working for a producer. At lunch he would be catching up on the latest on his budget position, and at the same time worrying if anyone had taught his actress to operate an industrial sewing machine, for scenes to be shot later in the week. Stallone was very committed to the concept of F.I.S.T. This was to be his first movie since Rocky. He told me he felt the story had bones, a solid foundation. I discussed scriptwriting with him; his theory for a film is that it should begin at a high point in the life of its character, a moment which will hold the audience and propel them into the film. In Rocky, it was a boxing fight where Rocky gets mad and wins his fight. In F.I.8.T., Johnny Kovak quickly becomes involved in the injustice of a man who is fired on the whim of a belligerent foreman. Stallone also likes his films to come to an emotional peak, to leave the audience with a strong impact. Rocky is a prime example again. It is very difficult to assess or total the input received from the F.I.S.T. process. I was delighted to find that I understood and communicated well with the Hollywood filmmakers. Their problems were the same as my own when producing, only on a far more massive scale. That scale was much less difficult to comprehend as I saw it peeled back like an onion. Day by day, layer by layer, I was able to follow the structure of the production from its initiation right the way through to a screening for “Time” magazine reviewers in New York, a procedure no less nerve-wracking for Jewison than for any other artist when facing the unpredictable reaction of the critics. The process gave me confidence in dealing with scale. I saw people working on this sweeping drama who were similar to myself in their outlook and philosophy of film. I discovered that there is no such thing as Hollywood magic, just people who have trained themselves to work to the highest standards of their profession and who have explored the financial strength that a larger market gives. I saw mistakes and successful experiments, anger and laughter. I saw time wasted and time gambled with, and won when the weather cooperated. I was also reinforced with the reality of the film game — a large budget is no guarantee of success. The best bet is a confident belief in high quality standards, and a commitment to entertain the audjence with every essence of the movie’s potential. ....All the stuff we do here. | April-May 1978/21