Yet more stories from the movie set.
I’m not a scaredy cat by most people’s standards. During all of my misspent youth, many people saw me cross the line from dangerous to downright stupid. The only reason I’m still alive is that God looks out for cocky morons.
However, the one thing that chills me to the depth of my soul is… heights.
It’s an actual condition called acrophobia. Anything higher than a kitchen step stool will send a chill down my spine and it’s time to call 911.
Motion picture scenic artists and set painters usually don’t fear being up high. I saw one, a woman, dangle from the side of a 30 story glass building in Miami to paint out a large window because the angle of the camera was causing an unwanted reflection.
Signwriters (sign painters) such as me are attached to the paint department, and our pay grade is the same as anyone who uses paint.
Although we are specialists, we are sometimes lumped in with the scenics.
It’s rare that a foreman will require us to paint sets or climb up a ladder.
But if you want to put in enough hours to make the bigger paycheck, you had best volunteer if there isn’t enough signwork that day. I have experienced that numerous times, but I’m usually standing on solid ground when I do.
When a crew arrives on set, the painters who like going high (yes, there are sickos who are into that) will jump at the chance and free me to work where I like to… as low as humanly possible!
We were crewing on a large budget show (“Just Cause”) in South Florida and we were running out of manpower because two others were filming at the time. “Bad Boys” was one working nearby and they had stolen half our painters, offering a better pay deal.
So, we had caught up on most of the signs that needed creating and two of us had been conscripted to paint the inside of an old train terminal which was to be turned into “the bus station.” You will see it in the opening scene.
When I stepped in the door, something tweaked in my stomach. The walls and ceiling were about 30 feet in the air, and there were two one-man electric lifts and a bunch of ladders waiting to be manned.
My boss looked at me and pointed to one of the lifts, then went on and assigned the other crew.
Thirty feet doesn’t seem like a lot if you are on the ground looking up.
When you are standing on a 3’ x 3’ metal grate swaying like a palm tree in a hurricane, it’s like being on the top of the Empire State building.
My friend and co-worker John Gonzalez (known as “Payday”) saw how white I was turning and let out a little laugh.
“Payday” was a union stagehand from Orlando who normally worked on big shows like operas in the large venues. They have no fear. He was a BIG guy… 6’5” and probably 300 pounds.
“Look, you take this low section of wall the foreman gave me, and I’ll man the lift…”
Oh thank God! A reprieve from sudden death!
“Payday” pulled all his 300 or so pounds up onto the lift and hit the switch.
“Rrrrrrrrr! Rrrrrrrr!” Nothing. Did not move one inch. Apparently we had hit whatever the load limit was. He looked at me with great sadness. “Sorry.”
There was no choice. Up I went, all the way to the ceiling, swaying to the beat of someone’s portable radio. For several hours.
I painted with one hand and white knuckled with the other.
At the end of the day, the brush in my hand was welded to my fingers and my other to the safety handles. I still haven’t recovered.
Thom Caraccio ([email protected]) is a retired musician and retired motion picture scenic artist living in West Palm Beach, Florida who hails from Columbus. He graduated from S.D. Lee High in 1968 and still considers Columbus his real hometown.
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Quality, in-depth journalism is essential to a healthy community. The Dispatch brings you the most complete reporting and insightful commentary in the Golden Triangle, but we need your help to continue our efforts. In the past week, our reporters have posted 33 articles to cdispatch.com. Please consider subscribing to our website for only $2.30 per week to help support local journalism and our community.
