The Wandering Monkey

Today is Saturday. On Thursday we filmed the last dance scene, which ended my planned involvement in the movie.  By the last day I'd developed an awful cold, and I spent Friday mostly resting and recovering.  But... some amazing things have developed in those four days.

 

On the first day, I personally did not dance.  Rather, I stayed behing the monitors and reviewed the film, alongside the director, assistant director, and a group of others who have responsibilities or curiousity in watching the film.  I arranged the dancers and gave them personal direction, and I coordinated with the cinematographer Chris Doyle (who did Hero) as to where the cameras were placed and how them moved about the scene.

 

On the second day I had brought out all of my best dancers, anticipating two of the most challenging dance scenes.  As it turned out, the shooting schedule was re-arranged at the last minunte, and we only were shooting a slow-dance scene.  I could have used anyone  for that.  I didn't need skilled dancers.  But there they were, so we went ahead with the scene.  It looked good, but it was not an efficient use of the talent and preparation that had gone into it.

 

On the third day, I experienced thee most surprising and eventful thing of the entire movie.  In the morning we had a dance scene, and in a sense it was getting almost routine.  I arranged the dancers, paired them up, asked them each to do their most favorite style, and so forth.  We shot a scene before lunch, then broke to eat.

 

During our lunchtime, the official choreographer for the film was shooting a small comedie-ballet piece with some people she had been rehearsing for the last two days.  But she still wanted to do another piece, based upon an idea that from the guy who selected the music for the film. This guy had been talking about a "Monkey Dance", or "Cat Dance" which was done by James Cagney in one of his old movies.  He'd been going on about it for a long time, and finally the choreographer had located a download of this movie and watched the scene.  It turned out to be only a ten-second piece, and the dancing was not at all impressive.  But nonetheless, she wanted to go ahead with the concept.

 

As it turned out, the Russian dancers who were there for the comedie-ballet scene had to leave one hour after lunch. They really couldn't stay.  So, she turned to me and said, I want you to shoot this scene.  (When was it going to happen?  This afternoon!  In about two hours!)  Of coruse I said Yes.  I'd met her before and had dinner with her the first night she showed up on the set a few weeks ago.

 

I was to play the Monkey, and for my partner, The Cat, she had chosen a most lovely girl. It was the ballet dancer from the previous piece.  She's Chinese, and she's the featured ballet dancer of the Beijing Ballet Company (or Beijing School, or something).  But in any event, I'd seen her rehease and she is the most graceful being I've even spotted in my life.  And furthermore, she is also quite beautiful. And so the choreographer says, you will be doing this scene with her.

 

So.... WHOOOO HOOOO!!  Hooo, hoo hOOOO!

 

Unfortunately, after describing the scene, she did not feel it was appropriate. She is, after all, a premier ballerina, and she's just done an elegant ballet scene.  To have her doing a relatively campy number dressed as a Cat was deemed all around to not be suitable.  I must say I was dissapointed, because I wanted to meet her and talk with her some more.  But that's not the issue right now.  Right now it's 1 hour and 45 minutes to do the scene.

 

The choreograhper picked another girl from the dancing population, a nice French girl who has done ballet before, and she's now going to be the Cat.  (The ironic thing is, this girl was not actually even supposed to be on set today!  She came with the other dancers to take the bus but she wasn't scheduled.)

 

So they tell me to go into the makeup room.  And's who's waiting in there?  It's Natasha, in the chair.  She's talking to another star in the chair next to her about the basic things of life, specifically the overweight charge they have for luggage when you fly into China.  I pretty much sit quietly in the couch, waiting my turn.  I want to participate in the conversation but I feel I might say something which would sound rather provincial, so I just sit and listen.  A few moments later Ralph Fiennes comes into the room and takes his seat at the makeup chair.  The makeup person does her bit, and the conversation continues.  "So how's this overcharge thing work?" Ralph asks, in a very proper English accent.  I can't believe I'm here, I think.

 

Then finally it's my turn.  I take the chair Ralph had been in, and the Cat takes the seat next to me.  The makeup women go over how they will take care of the makeup for this.  The girl is to be put into an elaborate white-based makeup which makes her looks like a member of the CATS musical.  And I'm going to be put into a Peking Opera monkey face paint.  I had "The Gibbon" variety.

 

Makeup begins.  It starts on the eyes.  I hate that part.  They take this eye-liner type pencil thing and run it under the rim of your eye.  I've done it once before for an ameteur musical piece back in college. My eyes always involuntarily snap shut whenever they do that.  It just does not feel natural.  "You haven't done makeup before..." the makeup woman says, "... I can tell."

 

It's one hour and thirty minutes into it, and the facepaint has taken form.  It is outstanding.  The woman said she's never done such a facepaint on a foreigner before, and there were some changes she needed to do. I have much deeper eyesockets and a prominent browridge, and Chinese generally do not have this.  But in the end, it was a fantastic effect.  The pattern of the makeup must have been formed for good reasons over decades or longer.  When I put my eyes into a snarl, I look like a dangerous animal. When I move my mouth to either side it looks like my whole face is moving.

 

The director comes in. The day's shooting is being held up for longer than anticipated.  The sun is down already.  They have been waiting for us on the set, but there's no rushing this process.  The director takes out his camera and does a snapshot of me.

 

Finally we are ushered out and into wardrobe, which is a black leotard, leather cap, and tail.  Then, we go onto set.

 

The Cat and Monkey enter the set, which is an elaborate wooden building interior built into a soundstage.  Everyone of the extras is standing around the room, wearing their tuxedos, suits, evening gowns, and so forth.  The Cat and I walk into the clearing at the center of the room and take a bow.  The makeup on both of us is very impressive, and everyone applauds.

 

We go through a quick rehearsal.  The thing is, we rehearsed this just once or twice.  We go through it again, and just for fun and to keep in the mood, I run about on using my hands and such to simulate being a monkey.  "I like that!" the choreographer says.  "Do that for the last sequence instead of the 'walking in arms bit'."

 

So, with this much preparation and the entire crew and cast looking, we begin.  When shooting a scene, you first do one or two rehearsals.  You run through the scene, everyone does their bit, the music plays, and the director and choreographer and everyone goes through the motions and makes sure it all works.  We do two rehearsals, and inbetween I still keep in the 'monkey' character by bouncing around the set, poking the Cat, running away like a monkey, and so forth.  Everyone looks very amused by all this.  I'm loving it, I must admit.

 

We shoot the scene four times, from two different angles.  Each time I manage to remember and execute the routine just fine.  My experience dancing and my background of playing drums has been invaluable in this regard.  And it's not all that hard for me.  I just have to run around and pretend that I'm a monkey, and do some proper dance for a little bit.  The take a bow at the end and walk off stage.

 

I don't think it's all that much.  It's only about 15 seconds of screen time.  But I'm having fun and everyone seems to enjoy watching it.  And the makeup really makes the scene.  It would not have worked but for that.

 

So finally it's over after six takes or so.  The director actually comes up to me and says, "That was really good.  Really star material."  I'm just thinking, "I'm just a monkey!"

 

The day ends, and I keep the makeup on as I go home.  Everyone is coming up to me and nodding at me as I go by.  Even Ralph, who normally is very reserved and intense into the concentration of his character, gives me a smile.

 

Thursday is the last day. I've got a bad cold, and I just do the best I can.  Everyone has been there a long time, and we finish the last dance scene of the last day and all make a mad dash for the bus.

 

For some reason, the "Wrap Party" takes place on this night, even though the movie does not wrap for another week and a half.  I go home and rest, eat, shower, change.  I gather my strength and head out to the party.

 

It's held at the Paramount, the same place at which we had our Chirstmas Ball over one year ago.  Most everyone is there.  I see the director, crew, assitant directors, and so forth.  Then, finally Ralph and Natasha show up.  Everyone has their cameras out.  I have up to this point resisted asking for a picture with Ralph, because I am supposed to be on this set as a professional.  But now I think it's time to ask.   I'm hanging out with a friend of mine who works as a model out here. She asks for a picture with herself and Ralph, and of course he says yes.  So I ask if I can have one as well.  He says of course.

 

I go up to him and prepare for the picture, and he actually says to me, "It was a pleasure seeing your work."  I said, "Really?"

 

And so it goes.  The director and producer are sitting at a table across the room.  They are looking off in my direction.  I raise my glass to them, and they raise theirs to me. 

 

And that's a wrap for Mr. Jimbo.

 

-J