Just about an hour north of Tucson, on the outskirts of a small town called Florence, surrounded by four prisons (”They tried to change the name to Prison City,” says Deputy Chuck Hunter), Morgan Creek Productions is shooting the final three days of its summer comedy ”Stay Tuned.”
The movie, starring John Ritter, Pam Dawber, Jeffrey Jones and Eugene Levy, is about TV addict Roy Knable (Ritter) and his wife, Helen (Dawber), who get sucked into a cornucopia of hair-raising adventures inside their television set.
Today`s scene involves the evil ”Spike” (Jones) tying a corseted (and, in real life, pregnant) Dawber to a wagonload of explosives on the railroad tracks. Along comes-you guessed it-a vintage locomotive that seemingly blows up the actress. So, we have a woman in her lingerie tied to a barrel of explosives on a railroad track screaming for her husband to rescue her. Far as I can tell, that`s indecent exposure, illegal possession of explosives, attempted murder and disturbing the peace. But then again, this is Hollywood, Old West-style.
Dressed in a black frock coat, Western hat, double-breasted red blazer and boots with spurs, Spike moseys on down the railroad tracks, with his convincing red wig and fake mustache in place. He checks his pocket watch and declares:
”Howdy, Ma`am. Reckon the 3:10 to Yute otta be along any minute. Funny thing, the train don`t exactly (pause) stop here.”
Tumbleweeds blow by during the third take of the spaghetti-Western scene, and the crew is anxious for a wrap for lunch.
Ritter talks, out of harm`s way on the sidelines, as his leading lady remains tied to the wagon of explosives, calling in the distance: ”I don`t know where you are, Roy, but get your butt back here.”
Can`t she see that he can`t possibly rescue her at the moment? The wind machine blows tumbleweeds and Ritter warns me to watch my eyes, as ”it could get a bit dusty.”
With his four-day stubble, blue jeans, poncho and boots, Ritter looks half-gringo/half-Mexican. But his sense of humor is pure norteamericano. ”I go into the TV with Pam Dawber, and we go on all these adventures and try to stay alive. It`s like making about 17 movies all in one, but it`s a lot of fun.”
Ritter says he loved the script when he read it: ”I think some of your readers might identify with a guy who maybe watches a little too much TV, but he can`t stop. It`s about being a `doer` and not being a `watcher.` That`s what can happen if you watch too much `Three`s Company.` You go to hell. So, kids, just say no!”
Dawber chats easily between takes, her pink-corseted figure hidden beneath a bright red, calf-length duffel coat. She poses for a picture with a fan and, though she`s fighting off bronchitis, self-effacingly jokes about her pregnancy: ”I look like a flounder from the side!”
Speaking of children, Dawber notes that she probably won`t let her 3-year-old son see this movie, which Dawber says includes some pretty scary situations. Besides today`s railway explosion, the actress has encountered wolves in the Arctic and 1930s-style gangster shootouts.
Lunch-country ham, mashed potatoes, and macaroni and cheese-is delayed until 3:10 p.m., as getting the shot is more important than grazing.
The on-set medic, Scott Stravitz, stops over for a chat. ”We got rattlesnakes, scorpions, Gila monsters, black widow spiders-all the local critters. I`m one of the few people on the set they don`t mind paying for not having to work.” The Tucson native says he mainly treats the crew for injuries. ”The stuntmen are prepared. Medics on the set are a relatively new idea.”
The big moment. The crane with the cameraman and his assistant hovers over the stack of explosive barrels. Huge clouds of black smoke rise in the distance from a vintage freight train, with the Galiuros mountain range in the background. Engine ”666” blows its whistle and rolls down the tracks toward the explosives. A hush falls over the set.
Prop man Ken Surney warns: ”Fifteen seconds to impact. Plug your ears and open your mouth-and watch for falling debris!”
KA-BOOM!
A huge explosion fills the air. Gee, this movie-making business is beginning to be kind of fun . . . but it`s 5:30, and as the sun sets in the west, it`s time to hit the dusty trail back to the hotel.
And for all this shooting, a full day`s worth will probably result in only 3 to 7 minutes of film that will appear in the finished movie. That is if it doesn`t end up on the cutting room floor.
Ritter is a very funny guy. Keeping a conversation with him on track isn`t easy. One is easily derailed by his ad libs. He`s also a man with a social conscience. ”I was born in a shack and raised by a toothless hag,”
jokes the son of country singer Tex Ritter.
Asked where he imagined himself to be five years from now, he quickly responded. ”Folsom Prison. Probably working on an appeal.”
Joking aside, he stressed his happiness with the present: ”What I`m doing right now is a dream. Heaven is right here.”
Being on a movie set is sort of like being at a party without cocktails, the friendly chatter occasionally peppered with moments of silence when the cameras are rolling. The good part is that as a journalist you don`t have to wake up at 4:30 a.m. like most of the cast and crew. But then you don`t get paid anything near what a movie star gets, and you don`t get a credit at the end of the movie that only people in Hollywood stay seated to watch.
