Beverly Hills Dead (3 page)

"Did you ever make it to the West End?"

"I got a second lead in a comedy that ran for a year; then, when they brought the production to New York, I came with it. It ran for five weeks, then closed. The troup went home, and I stayed to look for work on Broadway. I found nothing, and it was bloody cold in New York, so I came out here. At least, I'm not freezing to death."

They talked for a bit longer, then finished their lunch, and Glenna began putting the dishes back into the basket, while Peter dealt with the trash.

"Do you know who I am?" Rick asked Vance.

"You're her husband," Vance said. "I certainly know who
she
is."

Rick laughed and handed him his business card. "Tell you what, Vance," he said, "you tell your boss that your career in the construction business is at an end, then be in my office at eleven tomorrow morning. Do you own a suit?"

"I do."

"Wear it, and bring your English accent, too. I'll leave a pass for you at the front gate. Do you have an agent?"

"No."

"I'll recommend a couple of people."

"Thank you very much, Mr...." he looked at the card, "Barron."

"What's your last name, Vance?"

"Calder."

"Vance Calder. That sounds pretty good. What's your real name?"

"Vance Calder."

"How old are you?"

Vance looked around to see if anyone could hear him. "Nineteen."

"Jesus," Rick said, "I thought you were twenty-five."

"I've always looked older. When I was fourteen, people thought I was eighteen, and so on."

"That's an advantage at your age. From now on, don't tell anybody how old you are; they'll just think you're lying about your age, the way everybody out here does."

"All right."

"See you tomorrow." Rick joined Glenna and walked her back to her car. "Thanks," he said.

"You didn't notice him, did you?"

"No, I didn't."

"I think he's stunning, Rick; very sexy, too."

"He's probably queer, like half the boy actors in L.A."

"Don't you believe it for a moment," she said.

5

Before Rick left the house the following morning he called his assistant director on
Times Square Dance
. "Hi, Billy, I'd like you to set up a screen test this morning, and I want you to direct it. I'm sorry it's such a rush, but it's important."

"Sure, Rick. Who's the girl?"

"Guy. His name is Vance Calder, and he's coming to my office at eleven. I'll talk to him for a few minutes and then send him over to the little stage."

"What sort of stuff do you want?"

"I want a dramatic scene and a comedy scene, then I want you to dress him in cowboy gear--nothing Roy Rogers, just plain stuff--then take him out to the back lot and shoot him handling a gun, throwing a rope and riding a horse."

"Does he know how to ride?"

"I have no idea. Tell you what, for the interior stuff, use the comedy scene on about page thirty of
Times Square Dance
and the dramatic scene toward the end, when he tells Katherine how good she is. In the dramatic scene, have him use an English accent."

"Okay. I can even put the real set back together."

"If it's no trouble. Take the time to light this guy well; he's very tan, so he won't need a lot of makeup. You can pick him up at my office at eleven-fifteen."

"Okay."

"And get the film to the lab tonight; I want to see it before noon tomorrow."

"Will do."

Rick hung up and left for the studio.

When he walked into his office there were half a dozen people seated around his conference table, drinking coffee and eating pastries. "Morning, all," Rick said. "Sorry I'm late, but I have a good excuse."

"What's that, Rick?" somebody asked.

"I'm not going to tell you." Rick pulled up a chair, poured himself some coffee and chose a Danish from what remained. "Okay," he said, "let's get started."

Everybody pulled out legal pads and pencils and settled down.

"As you've already heard, we've postponed
Pacific Invasion
in favor of Sidney Brooks's new original script,
Bitter Creek
."

"It's a great script, Rick," somebody said.

"I think so, too. Unless somebody at this table comes up with some necessary changes because of logistics, I'm not even going to give Sid notes. Anybody got anything like that? Speak now, or..."

Nobody said anything.

"Okay. Let's start with locations."

"There's nothing in the script that can't be shot on the back lot, Rick," somebody said.

"We're not going to shoot a foot of film on the back lot."

"Where do you want to shoot it?" the man who was in charge of location scouting said.

"I want you to tell me," Rick said. "I'd prefer a place where nobody has ever shot anything before."

Everybody was very quiet.

"Manny," Rick said to the location man, "I want you to leave tomorrow on a scouting trip. Call my father at Barron Flying Service at Clover Field and charter an airplane. Look at the Sierras, look at Colorado, look at...I don't know, Montana, some place like that."

"How about Monument Valley?" Manny asked.

"That's John Ford's backyard," Rick said. "He owns it, and he can keep it. This is a cattle and water western, so I want enough grass to support cattle and a river worth fighting over, and Monument Valley doesn't have either of those. I wouldn't mind some snow-capped mountains in the background, either. We're probably going to have to build some early ranch houses, so if you can find some that will do, that'll be a plus. They'll need to be simple, though, maybe even raw. I want you back here in ten days, a week, if you can manage it."

"Anything else?" Manny asked.

"Nope."

"Then I'd better go home and pack and get out my atlas." Manny gathered his things and left the room.

"Costumes," Rick said, turning to Elsa Cameron, the studio's chief staff designer.

"We've got it all in my warehouse," Elsa replied.

Rick shook his head. "I don't want to see so much as a hat or a dress in this picture that has ever been used in a picture before. I want you to research the era, which is the 1870s, get photographs and work from the clothes real people wore."

"This is going to be fun," Elsa said.

"Then go get started," Rick said. He turned to Ruth Gannon, the casting director. "Ruth, I expect you've already got a list of actors for every part."

Ruth slid a memo across the table, and Rick caught it and slid it back. She looked surprised.

"I want this film cast with a lot of actors who've never been seen before in a feature film; look for stage actors and people new in town, maybe some old-timers who haven't worked for a long time. Look at acting teachers at the schools around town for middle-aged types; look at kids in their classes. I want fresh faces."

"Okay," Ruth said. "Who do you have in mind for the leads?"

"For the girl, the young widow, I want a young character actress, not gorgeous but not unattractive, one who's willing to bring her looks down a peg for the part. As for the male leads, I'm testing an actor today who may be right for the second lead; I'll know more tomorrow. Again, I want fresh faces, even for the star's role."

"I'll go call some agents," Ruth said.

"Call the acting teachers first. See who among their students they recommend."

She gave him a wave and left.

His associate producer, Howard Cross, spoke up. "Who do you want to shoot it?"

"I hear Basil Weathers is shooting something at RKO."

"He's a Brit and a first-timer here. You want a Brit to shoot a western?"

"I want a fresh eye; a Brit would kill to shoot a western. Find out when Weathers wraps on the RKO film, and if it's soon, get him over here to see me."

"I'll call his agent. What about lighting?"

"We'll let our cameraman pick him."

"Right. Anything else?"

"I'm going to produce and direct. I'll give you single-card coproducer, though."

"Okay."

"I want you to handpick the stunt guys on this one. There are going to be some rough scenes, and I want them to look really rough."

"I'll take care of it."

"That's it, then. Keep me posted." With everybody gone, Rick started on the paperwork on his desk. Vance Calder wasn't due for an hour.

Calder was announced and brought into Rick's office at eleven sharp. He was wearing a Savile Row suit and expensive linen and shoes. His hair was beautifully cut. The two men shook hands, and Rick sat him down on the sofa and took a chair.

"I hope you haven't made any plans for the rest of the day," Rick said.

"No, I'm out of work now."

"Not for long. An assistant director I like is going to come and get you in a few minutes, and you're going to shoot a screen test, two scenes from a film we've just finished shooting, one with an American accent, one English. The clothes you're wearing will be fine, and that will save time."

"All right," Calder said.

"Then he's going to take you out to the back lot for some outdoor stuff, and we'll provide you with the proper clothes. Have you ever ridden a horse?"

"I had a pony as a child, spent a lot of time pretending to be Tom Mix. I rode to the hounds a couple of times in my teens and didn't die." His accent was stage English now.

"That's a start," Rick said. "Tell me, how does an out-of-work actor with a construction job come up with that suit?"

"It was made when I was a working actor, in London. I think I may still owe the tailor for it."

The door opened, and Rick stood up. "Hi, Billy. Vance, this is Bill Thomas. He's going to direct you today. Billy, this is Vance Calder." The two young men shook hands and started to leave the office, but Calder returned.

"Rick, there's something I have to tell you. I lied to you yesterday, and I don't think that's a good way for us to start out."

"What did you lie about?"

"My real name is Herbert Willis. Calder is my mother's maiden name, and she had an uncle named Vance. It was legally changed in London a couple of years ago."

"Herbert Willis, huh? Glenna's real name is Louise Brecht. Keep both of them to yourself," Rick said.

6

The following midmorning, Rick got a call from Billy Thomas. "The stuff I shot yesterday is back. You want to me to clean it up or you want to see it raw?"

"Raw, as soon as possible."

"I'll have it put up in your screening room in half an hour."

"See you then."

In half an hour Rick walked into the screening room between his and Eddie Harris's office. Eddie was already there.

"What, you weren't going to invite me?"

"I figured you'd already know," Rick replied. "You know everything that's happening around here."

"I hear you offered Sid Brooks's agent a hundred and fifty grand for his screenplay. That's a big raise over the last picture."

"The last one was an adaptation; this is an original. Besides, you said to be generous, and I didn't want to get into a negotiation."

Bill Thomas came in and sat behind them. "We're ready," he said.

The lights went down, and the film popped onto the screen. The scene hadn't started yet, and Vance Calder was pacing nervously up and down.

"Uh, oh," Eddie said. "He's green."

"Oh, shut up, Eddie."

Bill Thomas's voice came from offscreen. "All right, places."

An actress walked into the frame, and Calder turned to face her. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Quickly, he was very still.

"Action," Thomas said.

The scene began, and Rick was struck by how suddenly calm the actor was. The two traded lines, and the girl turned her back. Vance took her shoulders, turned her back and delivered the funniest line in the movie.

Eddie Harris laughed out loud, and so did Rick.

The scene continued for two minutes, then Thomas yelled, "Cut. Print."

"How was it?" Vance asked.

"We won't need another one," Thomas replied. "Next scene, places." Calder, who had begun pacing again, took a breath. "Action."

This scene, the dramatic one, played more slowly, and Calder used his own accent.

"Is he a Brit or an American?" Eddie asked, surprised.

"What, you didn't know?" Rick replied.

The scene ran a little over three minutes, then Thomas cut but left the camera turning. "Face the camera, Vance," he said.

Vance faced the camera.