November 26, 2014
Suffering for your art takes many forms.
Last night, while filming an episode for Turn: Washington's Spies, I suffered. And I suffered repeatedly.
I obviously can't say much about the specifics of the episode we were filming. I think I can safety say I was playing a militia soldier.
Yeah. That it's about it.
We started at 3 PM and I knew right away we would shooting into the early morning hours. Nothing new there.
The skies were grey and the weather forecast was hinting at rain and even at a chance of snow. Again, nothing new there, especially for the production team and cast of TURN. We've seen fire and rain....and rain...and sleet..and horseshit.
Randall Wallace, on the set of POINT OF HONOR: "That's what a period piece is: rain, mud and horseshit."
Standing my post last night, in mud and 'snow,' and dressed in rags, I was positioned behind a horse.
I've worked with a variety of animals on a variety of shoots. Horses, cows, oxen, sheep and Teamsters. Teamsters are okay, just don't make any sudden moves and when you feed them keep your hand flat.
The horse last night I standing behind was a sweet creature with a gentle disposition. Unfortunately, for me, however, its digestive system wasn't as kind. To either of us.
I've never been farted on by a horse and checking my current bucket list I can see I hadn't been hoping for this unique experience before I shuffled off my mortal coil.
If you've ever wondered-and why wouldn't you?-it's horrible. Horrible. The curious thing is, horses break wind just like people do, except for the whole raising their tail right before they let loose thing, that is. As soon as you see the tail start to rise, run, get to the chopper.
GET TO THE CHOPPAH!!!
Standing there on my mark last night I began to think about all the horse movies that had been made.
Hidalgo. Seabisuit. Secretariat. War Horse. National Velvet. The Black Stallion. Dreamer. Flicka. Phar Lap.
There have been a lot of horse movies and I imagine, a lot of horse flatulence.
I don't know the name of the horse from last night and seeing as how things turned out maybe its better we remained anonymous to one another. Just strangers who passed in the night. So to speak.
All in all, things could have been worse. I know that and I'm grateful. I am.
It's ironic the actors were given the direction to look miserable and fortunate for me that a crucial part of my costume was a scarf that wrapped around my face. I'll be honest and say I didn't do a lot of acting last night.
It was cold and rainy and horse farts were being blasted into my face. Miserable was not something I needed to fake. The pain in my eyes, the only part of my face that was visible, was real.
So there I stood in the face of adversity at the back end of a horse inheriting the wind. I don't know who took Trigger to the chili cook-off and how much he ingested but that horse broke wind until they yelled 'Cut! New deal!'
Then he was led away and he slipped away into the night as a gentle rain fell. Now a word was spoken.
He just pooted one last time and was gone.
I'll miss the smell of bacon.
I'll miss the smell of flowers in the Spring.
Just keeping it reel.
Copyright 2014
All rights Reserved
Suffering for your art takes many forms.
Last night, while filming an episode for Turn: Washington's Spies, I suffered. And I suffered repeatedly.
I obviously can't say much about the specifics of the episode we were filming. I think I can safety say I was playing a militia soldier.
Yeah. That it's about it.
We started at 3 PM and I knew right away we would shooting into the early morning hours. Nothing new there.
The skies were grey and the weather forecast was hinting at rain and even at a chance of snow. Again, nothing new there, especially for the production team and cast of TURN. We've seen fire and rain....and rain...and sleet..and horseshit.
Randall Wallace, on the set of POINT OF HONOR: "That's what a period piece is: rain, mud and horseshit."
Standing my post last night, in mud and 'snow,' and dressed in rags, I was positioned behind a horse.
I've worked with a variety of animals on a variety of shoots. Horses, cows, oxen, sheep and Teamsters. Teamsters are okay, just don't make any sudden moves and when you feed them keep your hand flat.
The horse last night I standing behind was a sweet creature with a gentle disposition. Unfortunately, for me, however, its digestive system wasn't as kind. To either of us.
I've never been farted on by a horse and checking my current bucket list I can see I hadn't been hoping for this unique experience before I shuffled off my mortal coil.
If you've ever wondered-and why wouldn't you?-it's horrible. Horrible. The curious thing is, horses break wind just like people do, except for the whole raising their tail right before they let loose thing, that is. As soon as you see the tail start to rise, run, get to the chopper.
GET TO THE CHOPPAH!!!
Standing there on my mark last night I began to think about all the horse movies that had been made.
Hidalgo. Seabisuit. Secretariat. War Horse. National Velvet. The Black Stallion. Dreamer. Flicka. Phar Lap.
There have been a lot of horse movies and I imagine, a lot of horse flatulence.
I don't know the name of the horse from last night and seeing as how things turned out maybe its better we remained anonymous to one another. Just strangers who passed in the night. So to speak.
All in all, things could have been worse. I know that and I'm grateful. I am.
It's ironic the actors were given the direction to look miserable and fortunate for me that a crucial part of my costume was a scarf that wrapped around my face. I'll be honest and say I didn't do a lot of acting last night.
It was cold and rainy and horse farts were being blasted into my face. Miserable was not something I needed to fake. The pain in my eyes, the only part of my face that was visible, was real.
So there I stood in the face of adversity at the back end of a horse inheriting the wind. I don't know who took Trigger to the chili cook-off and how much he ingested but that horse broke wind until they yelled 'Cut! New deal!'
Then he was led away and he slipped away into the night as a gentle rain fell. Now a word was spoken.
He just pooted one last time and was gone.
I'll miss the smell of bacon.
I'll miss the smell of flowers in the Spring.
Just keeping it reel.
Copyright 2014
All rights Reserved
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