Michael McGarrity - Nothing But Trouble

Usher pushed the laptop away and reached for a tablet. “Are you up to pulling an all-nighter?”

Johnny laughed. “Hell, besides rodeoing, that’s what I do best.”

Up and ready to go at four a.m., Kerney checked the second bedroom for Johnny and found it empty. At the mercantile building the caterers had breakfast ready and Johnny and Malcolm Usher were sitting together, chowing down on scrambled eggs and bacon.

With his breakfast plate in hand Kerney walked toward an empty table, only to be waved over by Johnny. He sat down with the two men, both of whom had circles under their eyes and slack looks on their tired faces. “Long night?” he asked.

Johnny managed a smile. “You could say that, but we got a lot of good work done.”

Usher nodded in agreement.

“Why the early wake-up call?” Kerney asked Usher.

“We’ve got daybreak and early-morning scenes in the script,” Usher replied. “We can’t plan for them correctly unless we know what the light will be like at that time of day. The same applies to our evening and nighttime shoots.”

“We may be doing the rodeo scenes after all,” Johnny said.

“That’s good news,” Kerney said.

“If Charlie Zwick can find the money in the budget for it,” Usher cautioned.

“Will that be a problem?” Kerney asked. If Johnny got what he wanted, maybe he’d stop bitching about his story idea getting all screwed up.

“I think we’ve worked it so it won’t be,” Usher replied.

Kerney nodded. “If you’ve got a minute, can I ask how you plan to use me on the film?”

“You’ve read the screenplay?” Usher asked.

“Several times.”

Usher laid his fork beside his plate of half-eaten scrambled eggs and bacon. “Your job is to tell me what real cops would do. Anything that has to do with police procedure is your domain. If you see me planning to do something that’s completely screwball, tell me or my assistant director. Examples might be how the police would position themselves or restrain somebody-that sort of thing. The fewer glitches we have when we’re shooting, the smoother things will go.”

“That sounds easy enough,” Kerney said.

Usher downed the rest of his coffee. “But please don’t get upset with me if I don’t use every suggestion you make.”

“It’s your movie,” Kerney said. “I’m not here to argue.”

“How refreshing,” Usher said, giving Johnny a pointed look. “Enjoy yourself, Chief Kerney. I think you’ll find it fun to see how movies get made, although sometimes it can be real boring.”

Usher left and Johnny leaned back in his chair and broke into a big grin.

“You look pleased with yourself,” Kerney said.

Johnny drained his coffee. “If the rodeo scenes get overhauled the way Usher and I brainstormed them, I’m going to be a happy camper. Maybe you did me a favor yesterday after all. The more exposure my clients get in the film, the better the chances that I can get them bigger product endorsement deals and more acting jobs.”

“Are you trying to becoming a movie mogul?” Kerney asked.

“I don’t see why not,” Johnny replied. “There’s a lot of money to be made in motion pictures.”

“Well, you’ve got your foot in the door,” Kerney said. “But from what I’ve heard, making movies is a risky business.”

Johnny dropped his napkin on the table. “It’s no more risky than anything else I’ve done. Hell, you can’t get anywhere if you don’t roll the dice.” He pushed his chair away from the table. “Our first stop is at the ranch. It’s quite a spread. Old Joe has sunk a fortune into it. I can’t wait for you to see it.”

“I was there yesterday,” Kerney said, “and had lunch with your parents and Julia.”

Johnny’s eyes widened in surprise. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

“I haven’t had a chance,” Kerney said as he walked with Johnny out the door.

“Did the old man talk to you about me?”

Kerney shook his head. “No, he didn’t.”

“That’s just as well,” Johnny said with a laugh, “since he doesn’t have much good to say about me anyway.”

On the drive to the Granite Pass Ranch, Kerney sat in the backseat of an SUV with Charlie Zwick, the producer, who quietly wrote notes to himself. When Zwick put his pen away, Kerney asked what arrangements had been made for standby emergency personnel during the filming. Charlie explained that full-time medical services would be on-site and that the unit production manager, Susan Berman, would coordinate with the local volunteer fire departments for ambulance services to be made available. Private security officers would handle all traffic and crowd-control issues.

They arrived at the Granite Pass Ranch road, where the day’s work began. In the predawn light Kerney stood with the crew and listened as Usher sketched out what he wanted for two scenes that occurred early in the movie. The first one would be a shot of police vehicles on the road to the ranch house. Usher, his assistant director, a young man named Marshall Logan, and the cinematographer, a guy named Timothy Linden, talked about starting with an establishing shot that would show the police cars coming into view, and using a following shot as the vehicle passed by on the way to the ranch. They’d need a camera dolly and a crane to make it work.

As the first touch of pink coated the underbelly of the clouds on the eastern horizon, Usher had made his camera decisions and talked to his lighting specialists, Buzzy and Gus, about how he wanted the scene lit.

Interested to learn that exterior daytime shots needed artificial lighting, Kerney eavesdropped and found out that the angle and intensity of the sun created problems that had to be controlled in order to get the proper effect on film. In addition, lens filters might be needed to either heighten or dampen the sunrise effect.

While Usher was busy with Buzzy and Gus, Roger Ward, the transportation captain, staked out an area for the various equipment vehicles that would be brought to the location. He told Kerney at least a half-dozen trucks and the police vehicles to be used in the scene would be at the location several hours before the cast arrived, so the crew could set up.

After the art decorator and construction coordinator selected the placement for a wrought-iron ranch sign that would be erected, Usher did a three-sixty walk around the site. When the sun had fully crested the mountains, he assembled the group and asked if anyone saw problems that needed to be addressed.

“We’re going to have problems with dust on this road,” the photographer said.

“We can dampen it down with a water truck,” Susan Berman, the unit production manager, replied.

“Maybe we don’t need to do that,” Usher replied. “The dust could be a nice contrast to the serenity of the opening shot. Emergency lights flashing, cutting through the haze. Sirens wailing. The morning sun cresting the mountains.”

“They wouldn’t approach with lights flashing or sirens wailing,” Kerney said.

“Why not?” Usher asked.

“To retain the element of surprise,” Kerney answered.

“So how would the rancher know the cops were coming?”

“The dust would give them away,” Kerney answered. “Any rancher worth his salt always keeps one eye on the weather.”

Usher grinned. “Excellent.” He flipped through his shooting script. “Although I think we’ll keep the flashing emergency lights for dramatic effect. But instead of the rancher hearing the sirens, he sees the dust cloud from the road and emergency lights as the cop cars approach.”

“That would work,” Susan Berman said, checking her script.

“Okay,” Usher said, “let’s run through everything we need here one more time and then move on.”