By mid-afternoon, the film crew had set the stage for The Actor and The Aussie to bring about the demise of their friendship. Last things first, right? In the industry, perfectly logical.
The scene was being shot entirely outdoors, with spacious segments of lawn surrounding the narrow strip of equipment-laden framed area. I determined, based on L'il Man's ease into the day, that I could set up my own personal camp some distance away from the center of the foray, to view the action from afar.
Set, lighting (yes, even in broad daylight), props . . . all manicured for perfection to achieve a backdrop sufficient to the emotional exchange about to occur.
A rehearsal ~ once. Twice. Three times. Then, The Director stepped in. A bit of role play was necessary . . . role play that landed my son in the waterfountain behind him at The Directors heavy-handed push! A chuckle erupted from among the forty-five or so people, set crew, on hand. A merry-hearted, chuckling director checked on The Actor's well-being. The affirmative nod and broad grin said all was delightfully well.
The Leading Lady's mom turned to me just before they shouted "Roll 'em!" and took the baby out of my arms. In the blink of an eye, I was free to venture close to the screens, as they transmitted the film, the projection of the acting being performed about 60 feet away.
The entire crew, and all bystanders felt the electric energy between two characters as "Action!" was shouted out. My vantage point granted me a close-up of how the scene was viewed in a type of final edit.
Voices raised, anger stirred, The Actor and The Aussie pushed their characters to the max, while we all watched, mezmerized, knowing we were seeing something magical in front of us.
As the scene closed out, and the camera caught The Actor's visage, painfully contorted in utter frustration with his friend, my eyes filled with hot, stinging tears, and a lump in my throat informed me I'd not long have control over keeping those tears contained behind the dam of my eyelids.
A voice suddenly whispered in my ear: "My, those boys are HOT!" It was The Aussie's mum, in her brogue, sharing her own personal emotional reaction to the scene.
All of my sentiment was immediately channeled into a spontaneous reaction of uproarious laughter. I certainly hoped my son wasn't [yet] "hot" was my inward thought . . . and then realized she meant it in an entirely different fashion. Hot as in good - skilled.
Ah well. What do stage moms know about proper terminology on set, eh?
We were soon to find out, as the scene played out before us time and time again . . . you see, The Director ultimately, gregaiously shouted out "Now we're cookin'!!"
Yeah. Now we're cookin'!