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I felt so happy for Declan and Tess. The pregnancy had brought some health scares, so knowing the baby had safely arrived was cause for celebration. After celebrating my way through an omelette, a cup of fruit, and a giant vat of coffee, and trying unsuccessfully to call Declan with my congratulations, I finally arrived at my trailer to find the day’s call sheet.
And it was complete bullshit.
Location: Hideout shack
Exterior shot of Ladd sneaking around shack and approaching mouth of cave.
Location: Mountainside cave
Interior shot of Ladd confronting Mona near stack of gold bars.
Location: Mountainside cave
Interior shot of Ladd, Mona, and Murdoch arguing.
Location: Mountainside cave
Exterior shot of Ladd pulling Mona out of cave as cave explodes behind them.
I reread it several times. The explosion was supposed to be the shack only, not the cave, and it wasn’t scheduled to happen until late next week when we wrapped filming on location in Aster Valley.
Never in my entire career had I come across such an unprofessional and unorganized shoot. This was completely unbelievable.
I shot off a quick text to Declan, congratulating him and telling him I had some stuff to talk to him about that night. Part of me wanted to call him and cry on his shoulder about it all, but he was dealing with Tessa and the baby. And I didn’t want to start what I hoped would be a long and happy life together by giving Declan the impression I was a child. I wasn’t.
I was going to handle this like an adult.
When I knocked on Nolan’s trailer, one of the PAs answered. “He’s already up at the site for this morning’s shoot,” she said. “He sent me back to grab him a jacket because it’s windy up there.”
Instead of going straight to the site, I went ahead and reported to makeup and wardrobe, hoping like hell I could talk some sense into Nolan once I got to the set location. I was happy to film everything except the explosion scene. That shit wasn’t happening until and unless he could convince me it was all legal and set up according to official safety protocol.
I’d reached out to my union rep the day before and asked several hypothetical questions. Now I was armed with some language about safety protocol and my rights. And I was interested to find out how the hell the stunt coordinator had signed on to such a shoddy production. He had a good reputation in the industry, but his complicity with Nolan’s corner-cutting was mind-boggling.
Once I’d been to makeup and wardrobe, I got a shuttle to the site higher up the mountain. I found Nolan right away.
“Nolan, I’d like a word, please,” I said when I noticed him finishing up a conversation with a crew member.
“You look great, you look great!” he said, bouncing on his feet. “Look at this gorgeous day. Could it be any more perfect? I don’t think so. No, I do not. What do you have for me, Finn?”
He patted my shoulder like we were best buds. “I’d like to talk to the stunt coordinator about the explosion scene. It’s my understanding we’re only permitted to blow up the shack, so I think I have misunderstood the blocking we went over the other day.”
“Heh, no. That’s… we’re going to change the blocking this morning. See, it’s all changed. I had some great ideas, absolutely fabulous ones. It’s going to be amazing. Trust me. You’ve never seen anything like this.”
I stepped away from him so I could meet his eyes. “That’s what I’m afraid of. I’ve never seen anything like this. So far this production isn’t adhering to union safety protocols, so I just want to make sure—”
“Don’t be such a fucking square. Jesus, Finn. There’s annoying principals, and there’s you. Stop whining like a baby. Follow the damned script, and let Joel get the shots we need. Don’t use your head. Let us be the brains of the operation, m’kay? Okay. Great chat, great chat.”
He began to wander off, calling for Joel’s attention.
“I’m walking off the set, Nolan,” I said in a calm, professional voice. “If you can’t respect my contractual rights to safety protocols during filming, I am within my right to walk away from the production. It’s breach of contract, and you’re in it.”
He turned back to me with a narrow-eyed glare. “Remember our deal, kid? You do this for me, and I’ll give you Merchant of Fucking Venice. Got it? But if you insist on giving me hell over every single fucking aspect of this—”
“You mean The Taming of the Shrew,” I said, knowing with absolute certainty he didn’t mean either one. How had I been so gullible? I’d believed his ridiculous promise even though the man was known for filming action movies.
Kix had been right. And I’d been a fool.
