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He was a good man. I wondered if he wanted to continue being the sheriff enough to run for re-election. I made a mental note to ask him about it when we had more time together.
But that turned out to be a joke. For the next two days, we barely had enough time to breathe, much less see each other. I was dealing with my mother’s unannounced visit and an overflowing call sheet trying to make up for scenes that I hadn’t shot the day of the tyrolean traverse, and Declan was suddenly inundated with plans for the county event, which turned out to be a big Gold Rats meet and greet in the center of town after we wrapped filming in Aster Valley.
On the third day after waking up at Declan’s and saying goodbye to him in a rush of us needing to get to work, I had just arrived at my set trailer when a production assistant delivered the day’s call sheet.
I blinked at it in shock. Right there in black and white, it showed a reshoot of the entire tyrolean traverse scene.
The weather was completely sunny and clear, but the call for that scene was right after lunch when afternoon thunderstorms were more likely to roll in.
Stop assuming bad weather when there is none forecast.
I checked the weather app on my phone and saw nothing concerning in the forecast.
Still. There hadn’t been high winds predicted the other day either. That kind of shit simply happened at altitude. Weather wasn’t nearly as predictable in alpine areas.
“Why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?” Mom asked before taking a sip of the fancy coffee she’d sent someone to fetch for her from town. I’d already told the PAs to ignore her requests, so if they chose to do her bidding, that was on them.
“I have seen a ghost,” I muttered. “The ghost of climbing scenes past.”
I made my way to the door of the trailer, but she called me back. “Wait. Wait. Explain what’s going on.”
I glanced at her. “I told you the only way I’d allow you to come to the set was if you didn’t interfere. Do you remember that?”
“I’m not interfering. I’m trying to stop you from interfering. You have to trust your director, darling. If he wants a scene shot again, that means he didn’t get the film he needed. You know how this works, Finn. Without just the right shots—”
I finished the old line with her. “The film goes from wow to meh.”
It was a mantra she’d hammered into me a thousand times since reading some director’s biography years ago.
“Mom, stop interfering in my career. I mean it. I’m not ten years old anymore. Do you know how it makes me look to even have you here on set with me? Remember how we talked about the importance of rebranding me as an adult actor?”
“I believe the term I chose was action hero,” she said, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “And they don’t think of me as your mother. They think of me as your business advisor.”
I barely contained the eyeroll. “No, they don’t.”
I turned back to the door, intent on finding Nolan’s assistant to ask about the need to reshoot the scene, but the same PA who’d delivered the call sheet appeared again. “We’re switching things around because of weather concerns. Here you go.” She shoved a new call sheet into my hand and took away the old one. This new one showed the tyrolean scene first up this morning after makeup and wardrobe. Great.
At least we’d get it out of the way while I was still fresh. I studied the sheet some more and noticed a blocking session for the cave explosion scene later this afternoon. I was nervous about the scene now that I knew they’d be using real pyrotechnics, but at the same time, I hoped to finally have some of the stunt coordinators on hand to direct me in how to deal with something I was unfamiliar with.
I’d never been on a set with so much seeming disregard for protocol. But in order for the film to get approval for the pyrotechnics, hopefully they’d had to prove compliance with all necessary safety protocols.
I shot Declan a text.
Me: I might have to cancel dinner. We’re going to be blocking the cave scene until late.
Declan: I thought you were doing that this morning. Is it going to take that long? Maybe it’s a sign they’re being cautious.
Me: No. They pushed it back because they want to re-shoot the tyrol.
The three dots appeared, disappeared, and reappeared several times before Declan’s response came through.
Declan: 10-9
I squinted at the screen and realized it wasn’t the same thing as a 10-4. After pulling up my handy police code cheat sheet, I noticed a 10-9 was a request to repeat previous transmission.
