Gopher It

"Being a production assistant is a shit job," said the woman interviewing me for a production assistant position with the movie "What Dreams May Come." She explained, "There's no glamour. Everybody dumps on you. You get treated like shit. Do you still want the job?" Of course. The movie was being filmed at Glacier Park, MT, a mere two hours from my home. Plus, it starred Robin Williams and Cuba Gooding, Jr. My first day was a crash course in production assistant skills. The second assistant director showed me how to plug in my earpiece to the radio. After four tries, I walked out of the trailer feeling pretty darn official. My first call over the radio left little question that I would play an invaluable part in the production. "Okay, hold in the big button and say 'Karen, what's your 20?'" instructed my boss. Nervously, I complied. Karen answered that she was returning from the catering truck. "Okay, now tell her you're on your way to help," said my boss. On the other side of the lodge, I found Karen toting several plates of food. I carried the plates for her then handed them back to her when we reached the stars' trailers. My first day, my first task, and I was already touching fame and glamour in the aweinspiring form of a dry, toasted bagel destined for Robin's trailer. The first day was hectic and long, typical of what was to follow for the rest of the shoot. Work days ranged from 15 to 20 hours, the longest days usually being Mondays and Fridays due to Screen Actor's Guild regulations. My main responsibility was to keep people from peering over the hill and ruining the shot. I also made sure only cast and crew went down the path to the set, even though I didn't know everyone on the set. A critical skill of being a PA is knowing who's who, especially who signs the checks and who has the power to squash you like a bug (which is most anyone on the set). With my typical grace, I hassled the Unit Production Manager (oops) and angered the producer's daughter. On the bright side, I met my first grip, a profession I've always wondered about when watching film credits. When he was catching his breath at the top of the steep hill leading down to set, I asked him what a grip was. "An electrician provides light, a grip molds and shapes it," was his reply. I'm betting he didn't know either. Judging by what I saw during the rest of the production, grips handle everything involving construction, onset improvising and heavy lifting. After the day's shoot wrapped, a massive amount of equipment remained at the bottom of the hill. When they're not molding and shaping light, grips lug tons of equipment — with the P.A.'s help. After lugging 50pound sandbags and crane weights up the hill, I was dead tired and damned sure that I never wanted to be a grip. The next three days blew by, literally. The location was on top of a mountain, smack dab in the middle of a wind tunnel. When I watch movies in the future, I'll always pay more attention to the weather. Although the sun was shining and the setting was ideal, the wind blew dust, tents and small woodland animals across the mountaintop at dangerous velocities (I don't think there is a safe velocity for an airborne woodland animal). Through it all, Robin Williams and Cuba Gooding, Jr. persevered, acting their parts in warm weather wardrobe despite the presence of cold, biting winds. Thanks to the wonders of microphones, their recorded dialogue lacked the telltale whistle of wind that drowned out real conversation. When the scenes ran at dailies three nights later, the only reminders of the wind were the fluttering of William's raincoat on screen and the windburn on my face. The next location at Two Medicine Lake gave me my first chance to deal with groups of spectators. Despite trees and the yellow caution tape that kept fans from seeing anything, they were transfixed purely by the lure of showbiz. Some fans remained for hours, chatting pleasantly with me, offering me their binoculars when a grizzly sow and her cubs wandered out. Being on the other side of the yellow tape made me a part of the production. Shockingly, some people seemed to envy my job, even as I ran coffee to the set and did every other gopher task known to man. After a particularly bad day of getting chewed out by the guy from craft services, who caters the productions, a teamster, a producer and a grip, I had endured just about enough Hollywood glamour for one lifetime. As a newcomer, I didn't quite grasp the nature of filming. It was a unique environment, a dark cloud of time pressures and logistical concerns hung persistently over the production. With everyone under such pressure, there was an unofficial rule on set that anyone could chew out anyone else and the next day there would be no hard feelings. The trend continued throughout my time on set — producers would yell at me one day and chat pleasantly with me on the next. By the end of my tenure as a P.A., my skin had thickened. Still, by industry standards I was still a pansy. Despite the drudgery of toting film mags, directing traffic, fetching coffee and other vital tasks, I got to see what went on behind the yellow line. Every day had something new to offer, whether it was a new stunt, a new special effect or some bizarre happening. One day we set up a treadmill behind fake poppies to create the illusion that Williams was running incredibly fast. The next, the production ground to a halt while the art director verified that the stuntwoman in a nude scene was proportional to leading lady Annabella Sciorra. Another highlight was the shot in which a bird of paint (you'll know the scene if you've seen the movie) defecates on Robin's face. The shot was achieved by filling a condom with multicolored pudding (which was quite tasty) and puncturing it with a pneumatic device. After two errant splatters, the third was successful. I'll forever be able to tell my family and friends how I ate the same fake bird feces that splattered Robin Williams. Or maybe I won't. My favorite moment throughout the shoot involved a young autograph seeker and Adam Bryant, Robin Williams's photo double and an incredibly nice man. On that particular day, both Williams and Bryant were in makeup and wigs intended to make them look 15 years younger. Throughout the day, people kept mistaking Bryant for Williams. When the crowd cheered and waved at him, he graciously explained he wasn't Robin Williams but he would try to make it up to them. Later in the day, a young boy asked Bryant for an autograph. After taking the pen, he asked, "Do you know who I am?" The boy replied, "Yeah, you're Robin Williams' stand in." Bryant gladly signed the pad. Working around Robin Williams and Cuba Gooding, Jr., I can't deny being starstruck but I did my best to remain professional. When I found myself standing next to the celebrities, I kept quiet and tried to remain in the background, though I would have talked to anyone else standing next to me. I wonder how stars deal with the fact that nearly everyone, no matter how they try, treats them differently. Celebrities must maintain a delicate balance between their private and public lives. On set, I came to appreciate not just Williams the actor, but Williams the father. When he would leave set with his family after a long day of filming, I cringed inwardly as hordes of fans sought autographs and called out "nanoonanoo." Of course, I lost track of how many times fans asked Gooding to "Show me the money." I'm not entirely certain what lessons I learned during the filming. I know now that it's a faux pas to hitch a ride in a car occupied by Cuba and a producer, although they both were very nice about it. I learned never to take the word of a spectator on set. Trite as it sounds, I realized that celebrities are people, too. Perhaps the best advice I can pass to those who find magic in movies is that movies are best enjoyed with a bag of overpriced popcorn and a soda. On the other side of the caution tape, it's just another day at work. Nick Wickersham is a 1999 graduate of Harvard University. He has decided to forego a movie production career.