There Goes My Social Life (16 page)

“Would you like breakfast?” the production assistant asked. After taking my request, she ushered me to hair and makeup for about two hours before I was to arrive for my set call. Everyone's call time was the same, so some of the cast would be in hair while the others were in makeup.

When I first got to see the cast that Amy Heckerling had assembled, I realized—Amy's a casting genius! Alicia Silverstone was cast as Cher; Elisa Donovan played Amber Mariens, Cher's nemesis, with a perfectly spiteful air. (She based her character off girls from her high school!) Donald got the part of Murray, and I loved having another actor from New York there. In fact, all of the roles were perfectly cast: Paul Rudd was Josh Lucas, the college freshman son of Cher's father's favorite ex-wife; Breckin Meyer was Travis Birkenstock, a stoner who eventually gives his bongs to charity and goes to rehab; Dan Hedaya was Cher's lawyer dad, Mel Horowitz; Jeremy Sisto was Elton Tiscia, the object of a matchmaking scheme gone wrong; Wallace Shawn was amazing as Mr. Wendell Hall. This movie taught me that casting is everything. Chemistry is everything. You could hire Brad Pitt and Tom Cruise, but if they don't have chemistry it's not going to work.

Over the course of the three-month shooting, this group of strangers got to know each other so well on the fun and relaxed set that we seemed like family. Amy had such a clear vision, and she was able to translate it to us perfectly. Plus, she knew if an actor required great coaching or needed space. She knew not only how many words to say, but which words to say. She created an atmosphere on the set that I've never seen replicated in all of my years in Hollywood. What moviegoers saw on screen was exactly what happened every day.

When I first arrived on set, the crew set up the shots, and I was given a call sheet. That told me the order of the scenes, which scenes were planned, and what lines we were going to run for that day. The first scene we shot—though it was not the first scene in the movie—was the infamous driving scene. We were driving through Beverly Hills and I had on the
Cat in the Hat
hat.

“Hello, that was a stop sign,” I said.

“I totally paused,” Alicia—as Cher—said.

It was hilarious.

There was another scene that was incredibly fun to shoot, though—honestly—all of them were fun. In that scene, Dionne was behind the wheel driving Cher and Murray (in his BMW) on the freeway. Amy first thought of doing this scene because she's horrified of driving on the freeway—which is really tough to avoid in Los Angeles. When Amy first got her driver's license, a drunk driver coming off of a freeway hit her and injured her pretty badly. She created that scene to show how scary the freeway is. I think we did a good job conveying that fear!

The car that I was “driving” was attached to a camera truck with a rig on it. The producers put a camera in the car for some shots and one outside of the car for others. During that scene—which took us all day to shoot—we were actually on the freeway. Trucks were going by, we were screaming, and it was fantastic. We had so much fun filming that, because we were so over the top.

And another scene that was pretty memorable was the party scene in which Cher and Dionne take Tai to a party where Cher unsuccessfully tries to play matchmaker for Tai and Elton.

I wasn't in that scene, and I'm glad because it took forever to shoot and it was sort of gross! It was famous for its infamous “Suck and Blow” game. The way the game worked was simple: the first person takes a credit card and inhales to create suction so that the card will stick to their lips. Then they exhale slightly so the card detaches from their mouth and onto the mouth of the next person in line. On film, it looked like a sexy game. If the card slipped, you'd be kissing the next player! But it looked absolutely disgusting to shoot. None of the actors was able to maintain the constant sucking or blowing required to make it work. Props drilled holes in the credit card, but it didn't help. Finally they created a fake credit card made of a lighter-weight cardboard. After that didn't work, they applied loads of
Chap-Stick
® to the actors' lips to make it stick. Yuck.

Also, they were pumping smoke in from a machine to make everything look more festive. And many of the extras were smoking fake cigarettes, which have a terrible smell and gave everyone headaches.

Another memorable scene was when Donald's character Murray got his head shaved. The producers didn't want him to actually shave all of his hair because they wanted him to be able to shoot other scenes set chronologically before the party—scenes are always shot out of sequence. So at the party they shaved only the top of his head, leaving hair on the sides so he could wear baseball caps and look like he still had hair. When Donald announced that he looked like George Jefferson, Breckin and Paul absolutely cracked up. From that point on, any time they wanted to humble Donald, they'd just knock off his hat and call him George. I loved shooting this scene, because playing Dionne—Murray's girlfriend—I absolutely threw a fit.

“Why did you do this to your head?” I yelled.

“Because I'm keepin' it real.”

That line wasn't in the script, but Donald had heard some kid in his neighborhood say it, so he thought he'd try it out. I thought it worked, so we kept going. Amy loved it and kept it in the script. An unplanned aspect of another scene happened by chance, when Amy and I were talking on set and I happened to sneeze.

“That's not for real,” she said. “That is the most delicate yet squeaky sneeze I've ever heard.”

“Yeah,” I said. “It is.”

“Okay, we're putting that in,” she laughed.

In the movie, I sneezed and Alicia said, “Dee, when your allergies act up, take out your nose ring.”

As the director, Heckerling was there every step of the way, watching every move we made and everything we did. “This is what I want,” she'd say. Or, “That was good but this wasn't good.” Or, “We have to do that!”

The camaraderie was helped by the fact that everyone was really young and excited to be on set. Alicia and Brittany were only eighteen years old at the time, while Donald was twenty-one—they were at least close to the ages of their roles. I, on the other hand, was twenty-seven!

Alicia brought her dog to set and fussed with it all the time.

People would ask, “Hey Stacey, do you have a dog?”

“No,” I said. “I have a kid.”

“What? You have a child?”

“Yes, I do,” I said. “I have a child, not a dog.” I guess they were surprised because I was playing a high school student. But by that time Austin was five years old. Even though I didn't look it, I was in a much different stage of life from most of the actors and actresses. I didn't really hang out with the cast except Amy and Twink, who played Miss Geist. That's why it was nice to have my own trailer, where I could focus for the time I was on set. Then I had to go home and be a mommy. My mind was always on different things—babysitting, playdates, ABCs, making ends meet for my son.

Pretty soon, my life settled into a new routine. I'd have to be at the set by 6:00 or 6:30, so I'd get up at 5:00. I'd leave Austin with Matthew and his mother, who would take care of him while I worked. Every day was full of scenes, but the Screen Actors Guild rules say that they have to give you twelve hours off work before they put your next call in. In other words, whenever they wrap, they can call you twelve hours later. If they don't give you enough time—which is called “forcing your call”—they have to ask you if you're willing to come in. The plus side is that they have to pay you more.

Though the schedule was pretty full, it was never monotonous or boring because we had different scenes every day. Plus, each scene required a wardrobe change. In
Clueless
we had so many wardrobe changes that getting all of the clothes tailored to us took almost a week. Every time we put on a new outfit, a wardrobe assistant snapped a Polaroid of us to show to Amy. She ultimately had to approve every outfit, which had to coordinate with what everyone else was wearing.

Costume designer Mona May—a brilliant fashion artist—had her work cut out for her on this film. She said I already knew what kinds of clothes looked good on me and had a developed sense of style, probably because I was older than everyone else. She created wardrobes from scratch for the others and then taught them how to wear these amazing clothes none of us could have afforded. In fact, Mona's fashions defined the movie even though style in the 1990s was a little suspect. Back then, kids wore flannel shirts, drab jackets, ratty jeans with holes so they could let their long johns show. They tried to replicate the industrial look of Kurt Cobain and Courtney Love by digging through the offerings at their local thrift stores. This could've been a reaction to the 1980s, when hair was almost an architectural feat—defying gravity with its high poofs and “wings” on the sides. In the 1990s, no one seemed to own a brush or care about high fashion.

But Mona turned that grunginess on its head. Inspired by her European roots, she took the high fashion world and adapted it to fit normal teenage bodies in a beautiful, feminine way. Her pieces included knee-high and thigh-high stockings, berets, and Mary Janes. In fact, I still love wearing thigh-high stockings, and put them on every chance I get!

In the 1980s, I was a punk rocker, so all that plaid was especially great. I loved the thigh-highs and the shoes, but the hats were just stunning. Women just haven't worn hats since the 60s so those hats became characters unto themselves. Though some say mine may have looked like they were inspired by Dr. Seuss, they worked. Plus, they made me feel glamorous.

In this film, Alicia had sixty outfit changes, and I had fifty.

“Why do we need this many clothes?” Alicia complained during about the thirty-seventh fitting, but I always loved it. Ever since I was a teenager—maybe before—I loved fashions and designers. Of course, when Alicia saw the film, she understood the costume requirements. The film inspired the clothing of the last half of the 90s.
Vogue
named our movie the “fashion movie of the year,” and the
New York Times
said that it was “best enjoyed as an extended fashion show.”

But as visually stunning as the costumes were, the script was just as dazzling.

Whatever was said in this movie just seemed to catch on in pop culture. Some of Cher's lines were so funny and memorable. For example:

“You see how picky I am about my shoes, and they only go on my feet,” explaining why she's a virgin.

“Do you prefer ‘fashion victim,' or ‘ensembly challenged'?”

“Dionne and I were both named after great singers of the past, who now do infomercials.”

But my favorite line in the whole movie belonged to me. When Amber was complaining in physical education class, she said, “My plastic surgeon doesn't want me doing any activity where balls fly at my nose.”

I immediately replied, “Well, there goes your social life.”

To this day, people will come up to me and say that line—I always laugh.

Amy had a great ear for the way teenagers back then were talking, but she earned it. She went to classes, plays, and debates at Beverly Hills High School, to skateboarding contests, and to clothing stores so she could eavesdrop on conversations that kids were having at the time. The resulting script revealed this California Beverly Hills lingo to America. For the first time, people heard the
Clueless
lexicon, which then became a major part of every teenspeak. If you watch the movie now, you can't really appreciate the innovative slang—because much of it has become such an ingrained part of our language. (Sort of like watching the original
Star Wars
isn't as impressive now, since they forged the path in special effects!) But here are several phrases and words that
Clueless
introduced to the culture:

CLUELESS
DICTIONARY

Whatever
(
exclamation
): a dismissive word used to end an argument or indicate a lack of interest in continuing the conversation

As if
(
conjunctional phrase
): a phrase that means “there's no way I'm going to do that”
Baldwin
(
noun
, but can also be used as an
adjective
): a guy who raises your social status if you date him

Betty and Barney
(
nouns
): a pretty girl and an ugly guy

Postal
(
adjective
): crazy, nutty

Hello!
(
exclamation
, but not a greeting): did you hear me? Are you listening?

Jeepin'
(
gerund
): cheating

Monet
(
noun
): someone who looks good from afar, but—like the impressionist paintings—is a big mess up close

Totally
(
adverb
): completely

Buggin'
(
adjective
): upset or confused

Bonehead
(
noun
): an idiot

Keepin' it real
(
phrase
): used to say you aren't putting on airs or pretending to be more than you are.

The movie came out a year after we wrapped. Our premiere was in Malibu, just down the Pacific Coast Highway on the beach, and I bought a red Chinese dress cut off really short into a mini dress. When I arrived—with Matthew—the energy was electric. Members of the press were everywhere, so reporters would call out my name as I walked by to ask me questions about filming the movie. MTV set up on location, with Daisy Fuentes and Jenny McCarthy doing on-the-sand interviews with the celebrities. Luscious Jackson, a popular band in the 90s, performed on the beach while people served food and drink to partygoers from colorful striped cabanas.

But the real magic happened when they began showing the film. It was exhilarating to hear everyone laughing so hard. I could tell this film was going to be a huge hit.