Tracking Shot by Colin Campbell (best book reader .TXT) 📕

“But they aren’t going to really hit me, right?”

“D’you think they really hit John Wayne?”

“I don’t know. He was a big guy.”

McNulty let out a sigh and took Alfonse to one side. The far corner of the parking lot had been dressed to look like a roadside leading between a pair of industrial units. Fake street signs and lampposts completed the deception. Anything identifying it as Fresenius Medical Care had been removed or covered. This was the car chase and fistfight scene where Detective Alfonse Bayard catches one of his main suspects. Alfonse was nervous about how close the punches were going to land. McNulty waved his doubts aside.

“Just think, Yakima Canutt.

“Is that a calming thing? Should I chant it?”

McNulty blew out his cheeks. “He’s the stuntman who taught John Wayne how to fight.”

“He fought for real?”

McNulty turned sideways so Alfonse could only see one side of him, then faked throwing a punch at his own head. The fist missed by six inches but from Alfonse’s perspective, when McNulty threw his head back, it looked like a solid hit. McNulty looked at the actor. “Movie fight.” He clapped his hands. “Add a slap in sound effects and you’ve got a punch.”

Alfonse didn’t look convinced. “And our stunt guys know how to miss.” He raised his eyebrows. “This is Titanic Productions we’re talking about.”

McNulty appreciated Alfonse’s concerns but pushed ahead. “Trust me. If they wanted to hit you, they’d hit you.”

The arc lamps came on along one side of the set. Diffusers were moved into position to soften the light, and reflectors angled on the opposite side to bounce some of it back into the scene. A rusty old car had mounted the curb on the fake street and a shiny Crown Vic was angled across the road in front of it, final positions after the car chase that hadn’t been filmed yet. Larry didn’t want to risk damaging the cars before the close-ups. F.K. Parenteau supervised the grips laying a dolly for the tracking shot that would run the camera alongside the actors until Alfonse caught the suspect. Then the angles would be adjusted for the fight. Randy Severino would normally have covered some of this but Larry hadn’t hired a replacement, and the Arriflex still hadn’t been found.

The film cartridge was snapped onto the camera. The second AC snapped the clapperboard a couple of times to make sure it was loud enough. Amy Moore finished touching up the stuntman’s makeup and waved for Alfonse to come for the same. McNulty nodded that the actor was almost ready, then gave him a pat on the back.

“Don’t forget. Cops don’t punch. You’ve got more fine bones in your hand than any other part of your body. You start thumping someone in the face you’re pitting small bones against the strongest bone they’ve got.”

Alfonse nodded. “Forehead. Got it.”

McNulty tapped his forehead. “If God wasn’t worried about our brains, he wouldn’t have protected them with hard flat bone.” He feigned a boxing guard then a slap. “Defend and slap across the face. The shock opens their eyes.” He grabbed Alfonse’s forearm and twisted it around his back. “Then it’s on with the cuffs before he knows what’s happening.”

Alfonse took a slow, deep breath. “The stunt guy does know about the slap?”

McNulty leaned in and spoke softly. “Don’t slap him too hard. He might forget to miss you.”

He glanced toward Amy and nodded. “Thank God I didn’t wear makeup on the beat.”

Alfonse smiled and walked to the makeup chair, speaking over his shoulder. “That’s not what I heard.”

TWENTY-FOUR

Larry didn’t arrive until the fight scene was in the can and they were setting up for the car chase. Having the producer on set during a potentially expensive sequence made everyone nervous. McNulty deflected some of that by taking him to one side and explaining about the red van and the hillbillies.

“Rats?”

McNulty nodded. “In a blocked well next to the cabin.”

Larry shuddered, then his eyes lit up. “You think they’ll let us shoot down there?”

McNulty didn’t get a chance to tell Larry what he thought about their chances of filming under the cloverleaf. The producer had been called over to sign off on the stunt team’s plan for the in-chase collisions. Larry insisted on one last run-through with toy cars on a clear stretch of sidewalk. F.K. threw his hands up and looked at the sky. They had maybe two hours of good light before matching with the earlier scenes, which would actually come later in the edit, would be impossible. When it came to cinematography, there was only so much you could do with lights and reflectors.

McNulty watched the preparations. A camera car sat ready along the nearside between the industrial units. The chase cars were positioned at the start of their run. A trash bin on wheels had been rigged with explosives to fake a crash as the cars drove past. Yellow electrical tape had been stuck to the floor to show each car its projected route, ensuring they were never closer than two feet. The angle of the camera would provide the collisions with the sounds added in post-production, just like with John Wayne.

Once Larry had agreed he came over to McNulty. “I can’t watch this. Gives me palpitations.”

McNulty led Larry away toward the production vehicles. “Well, if you get any dents I know a place that’s cheap.”

Larry stopped and looked at his technical adviser. “That’s not funny.”

McNulty stopped as well and they stared at each other in the middle of the parking lot. “And neither is what we’re going to do later tonight.”

Larry shook his head. “You sure about this? You were already nearly rat food.”

McNulty sighed. “That was a mistake. Going down there on my own.”

“You’ll be on your own tonight.”

“No I won’t.”

Larry shook his head again. “I don’t like it.”

McNulty stood firm. “You’re the one who wanted to spin this in Titanic