It isn't often that I tread over the same material here on Round Seventeen, but it is Christmas time. And once again, you crazy goyim are breaking out the lights, the trees, the wreaths, the carols, the sweaters, the stockings, and the yule time 'knick knacks' -- an all-inclusive name for shit I don't know about it.
You're repeating yourself. So, I'm giving myself that same liberty.
I've gone deep into the mothballs and found an old spot I did for Acura, when it was at the RP& Agency.
We once shot a Lexus spot in an airplane hangar. It wasn't intended to be an all-nighter, but the production crew kept screwing up the set and a 12-hour day turned into a 24-hour nightmare.
Also shot an ABC promo in a warehouse in downtown LA, long before the hipsters and the douchebags with their beanie caps arrived with their overpriced PBR and ear gauges.
For this Elf spot, we hauled our asses up to the Angeles Crest Forest. I made it until 3:30 AM before I fell asleep in the production van with one of the Key Grips. This man's intestines should be posthumously donated to the Smithsonian. Or the Pentagon.
Because he produced a digestive aroma that could, in George Carlin's words, "knock a buzzard off a shitwagon."
I awoke, and bolted from the van in time for the filming of the most crucial scene in the spot.
The car has already stopped. Santa is in his sleigh waiting. There is a moment of tense silence. And then the elf emerges from the trees having successfully irrigated the dry land.
That's when we all enjoyed the biggest laugh of the night. Not because of anything I had written in the script. That rarely produces a chortle. No, after blocking the scene and conducting a few rehearsals, the director, Rick LeMoine, called for action. At which point the elf zips up his elf pants and delivers his one word line, "Sorry."
Apparently, the line was delivered too broadly.
It was too theatrical.
Needed to be a little more subtle.
That's when Director Rick turned to the actor, who stood all of 3 foot seven, and said, "try not to play it so big."
Merry Christmas everybody.
Drive safe.
1 comment:
If the spot was a :60, you could have incorporated a Caganer.
Rick LeMoine's a great guy, BTW. Knew him, and worked with his wife Doris Cassar, during one of my short New York stints. (Short, partly because I had a female version of a Caganer relieve herself on my stoop every morning. And if you think that key grip had foul intestines, you never opened your front door at 8:30 AM to the stench of homeless lady fecal matter.)
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