Shooting 007: And Other Celluloid Adventures (13 page)

Lesley and I finally decided to get married, and the wedding took place at the same church where I had sung as a choir boy. The elderly verger greeted me with my best man John Campbell, his expression clearly registering that we had met somewhere before, though he was not sure where – he didn’t ask and I didn’t tell! Sadly my old choirmaster Mr Elliott was no longer around to discuss the good old days.

It was sod’s law that soon after we had got married the film industry entered one of its periodic slumps, which happen from time to time. However, this time the camera crews at Pinewood Studios would be made redundant; ‘Last in, first out!’ came the cry, and I was the first to leave the studio. Fortunately, the head of Pinewood’s camera department, Bert Easey, offered me a second unit working on
Sea Fury
as a sort-of wedding present, which would help to boost our meagre funds after the nuptials. So now I found myself working on a Dutch tug filming in the North Sea, assisting my camera operator Austin Dempster, with whom I had worked before on
The Battle of the
River
Plate
.

Filming in the North Sea in February guarantees relentless seas, but these were the ideal conditions required for our back-projection plates for the film
.
Throughout the day our little tug battled its way through mountainous waves, leaving me permanently nauseous and soaked to the skin. Austin, of course, loved the experience; he enjoyed sailing.

One memory which stands out from this dreadful experience is of Austin standing at the bow of the tug, clutching his handheld camera as the little boat pitched up and down in the waves. Undaunted, my fearless camera operator carried on filming, his only comfort coming from smoking his ever-present pipe, with my soaked body giving support to his bulky frame as the conditions continued to deteriorate. Eventually an enormous wave came over the bow with such force that I was picked up and tossed down the deck, leaving Austin to his fate. Soaked to the skin, I looked around to see if Austin was still with me; there he was, standing upright – magnificent, imperial – as if nothing could move him, totally unaware of what was happening around him, pipe in mouth, still grasping his camera and filming. I doubt he even realised that I was no longer supporting him.

My friendly camera operator adored the sea. The same could not be said of his assistant, who would remember this experience as the perfect storm where most of the time was spent cleaning the camera of the salt water that found its way through the protective covers wrapped around the equipment. I decided that this would be my last adventure at sea, a promise which I have managed to keep to this day.

The only reason I include this small item in my story is to show the nature of our employment, where camera crews are sometimes asked to do the most ridiculous and at times dangerous things without question or hesitation. Later you look back and wonder if you were mad, or could it be that we are privileged to be part of this beautiful industry?

Walt Disney’s exciting family adventure would take Harry with crew to the tropical island of Tobago, where sunshine comes guaranteed every day, with John Mills as the father of the Robinson family enjoying the company of Dorothy McGuire as his on-screen wife, as well as the usual Disney favourites completing the family Robinson. These included James MacArthur, Janet Munro, Tommy Kirk and Kevin Corcoran, with Cecil Parker playing Captain Moreland and Sessue Hayakawa joining in the fun as the wicked pirate chief.

Writing about famous actors and the joys of travelling around the world, one easily forgets the price that you pay with your family life. In my defence, generous financial compensations were awarded as some recompense for these separations, which contributed much to the family bank balance in the hope that one day we would be able to buy our first home. This was the case with
Swiss Family Robinson
.

Often the loser in this arrangement, this time Lesley, now my wife, joined me in Tobago while the house-hunting took a backseat. Settling down in the surroundings of the Blue Haven Hotel, Lesley would get on with the business of working on her suntan, allowing me to play on the right wing of the Walt Disney football team. On rest days we played so-called ‘friendly’ games with over-enthusiastic local teams who were committed to beat the Brits, come what may, which usually ended up in a physical do-or-die encounter on the field of battle. The star of the film, John Mills, was team manager and occasional cheerleader. However, my tale stars the second-unit camera assistant, Jimmy Devis, our strong, reliable right back who held the Disney line in defence as we faced up to the notorious Tobago Marauders, who were rather inclined to take all this much too seriously.

The Disney football team in Tobago while filming
Swiss Family Robinson
(1960). John Mills (team manager in the white shirt) stands on the right; I’m crouching second from the left in the front row, with Jimmy Devis standing behind me. The man standing on the left was the unit stunt arranger – obviously expecting a dirty game!

One game stands out when Jim claimed that he was constantly being kicked by an opponent, which the local referee apparently saw as normal, choosing to ignore Jim’s plea for protection. With no help coming from the ref, Jimmy decided to blow the whistle himself and went seeking retribution. Recognising Jim’s outrage, the laughing villain decided it might be wiser to stay clear of our wounded hero and quickly took flight. Our champion had other ideas and went off in hot pursuit of the bare-footed scoundrel. Jim was now desperate for revenge.

At this point both teams were more than happy to take the opportunity to rest from the scorching sun, with play set to continue once Jim and friend had run out of steam, kissed and made up, so keeping everyone happy. Eventually, our wilting champion, unable to keep up with his fleeing adversary, returned covered in sweat. Slumping beside me, he struggled to suck in air, catching his breath and claiming that he was dying. No volunteers came forward to give him mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. Fortunately Jim survived the ordeal while his opponent, still full of energy, continued to run off into the distant horizon and was not seen again.

Swiss
Family
Robinson
was a big film by any standard, which required two full units; at the request of director Ken Annakin, Ernie Day now joined Harry Waxman’s team as first-unit camera operator, while the second-unit cinematographer, Paul Beeson, also enjoyed the benefit of a full camera crew. In keeping with the spirit of a Walt Disney movie, the film had a variety of animals running around the island, drunken pirates fighting each other, the normal family quarrels of young love with the rivalry of brothers, tigers trapped in pits and, not least, an adventure with a giant 20-foot anaconda waiting in the jungle should anyone be foolish enough to get near him – which brings to mind a terrifying close encounter while filming the snake.

On location with Ernie Day (camera operator) and Harry Waxman sitting in the background with the dark glasses while Ted Underwood (grip) relaxes on the grass.

James MacArthur as Fritz and Tommy Kirk as Ernst, with their focus puller trying to grow a moustache.

In one scene James MacArthur was wrestling the snake in a leech-infested swamp, but while the anaconda was supposedly tranquillised it was still alert enough to have a go at the actor, who had been advised to keep the snake’s head down in the filthy water. With the struggle taking place not helped with the actor’s greasy hands, the snake managed to wriggle free from his grasp and was lost from sight; at this point the actor sensibly made a very hasty retreat from the swamp.

A nervous silence fell as we all looked around, wondering where the snake would eventually surface – not least Ernie and me, who were filming close to the action when the reptile disappeared from sight. Suddenly a splash came with the snake’s head reappearing roughly 6 feet from the camera lens. I did not have time to check the distance as this re-emergence guaranteed instant pandemonium, with Ernie and me back-pedalling fast in retreat from its jaws – what fun!

So much happened in a Disney script that putting all this action together required both units to work closely together, which, I am sorry to say, did not happen. What soon became clear was that the combination of Harry Waxman and Paul Beeson working together had all the signs of bad chemistry. Even more worrying was that the two cinematographers could barely ‘exist’ with each other, let alone discuss mutual problems, which in turn would be unhelpful to our filming. Obviously this suggested that both parties had crossed paths before and now they found themselves working together on the same film.

Problems started to emerge from a lack of doubling-up on several pieces of equipment, nothing too serious, I hasten to add, but the situation was not helped by Harry’s insistence that the main unit should take preference – a comment which could only add more fuel to the silence of the two similar-minded cinematographers. Knowing Harry as I did, I knew it would be necessary to tread carefully before releasing any equipment to the second unit without Harry’s authority, but unknown to both Harry or Paul, Jimmy Devis and I decided to handle this delicate problem of sharing equipment quietly by ourselves. Now I was back on my ‘beware watch’, praying that nothing would go wrong, and somehow we managed to get away from all this madness around us. Harry controlled his feelings and kept them to himself, which again was unusual for the guv; even so, I had my reservations about all this nonsense and stayed alert to the situation.

When they had completed their filming the second unit returned to the UK, but even with the atmosphere now more relaxed it never became clear why Harry and Paul, two knowledgeable cinematographers, had so much ill-feeling towards each other. The reality is that I cannot remember the two speaking to each other throughout the entire film – past history alone would have the answer to this sad chemistry.

It was some years later and long after Harry had passed away that I visited Paul in hospital, still curious for an answer to this question of ill-feeling between the two. Tactlessly, I popped the question: ‘Why?’ The pleasant atmosphere suddenly cooled as the conversation went quiet. Paul thought about this before turning his piercing eyes straight at me. Had I overstepped the mark in asking that stupid question? Paul eventually smiled – more a grin, I thought – as he thought about my question. Sadly no further comment came, suggesting that there were past issues which Paul was not prepared to discuss, and I would never know the reason for the terrible atmosphere between them. To be honest, I found it disturbing that two such distinguished cinematographers were unable resolve an issue so damaging to them both. No winner would come from this clash of personalities.