"A fake script?" Jane asked, arching an eyebrow.
"Yes,The principal gave us the location and the student extras for free, but there's a catch: we can't tell them what the movie is actually about."
This was typical New World Pictures: stingy to the bone.
Van Nuys High School had agreed to provide the playground, the classrooms, and the student body for zero dollars. In exchange, the production only had to provide a decent lunch. This deal was entirely dependent on the "wholesome" script the producer had presented to the school board.
The real movie, Rock 'n' Roll High School, was a classic Roger Corman exploitation flick: rock music, rebellion, and blowing things up. The plot was simple: Riff Randell, a rock-obsessed cheerleader, and her brainy best friend organize a Ramones concert at the school, causing the totalitarian Principal Togar to have a breakdown. It ends with the students literally blowing the roof off the building.
The administration of Van Nuys High would never have signed off on that.
So, the producers had Ronald write a decoy script titled High School Life.
In Ronald's fake version, a stern but fair new principal arrives to improve the school's atmosphere. She teaches the rock-obsessed students that there is more to life than music. The students realize the value of hard work; some go to college, some get honest jobs, and everyone lives happily ever after.
"Alright, I get it," Jane sighed. She grabbed an eraser, rubbed out the words Rock 'n' Roll High School on the slate, and uncapped a marker to write High School Life.
"Spread the word," Ronald whispered. "If the school staff asks, we're making an educational drama. We're only here for one day, so we just have to keep the lie going until sunset."
"No problem," Jane grinned. "You know, Ronnie, you're starting to sound less like a PA and more like a producer."
Ronald smiled and waved a hand dismissively. "I just want my name in the credits."
Suddenly, a cacophony of shrill voices erupted near the camera cart. It sounded like a flock of angry geese.
"I'd better go handle that. See you, Jane."
Ronald hurried into the crowd and found Jim Cameron besieged. The three lead actresses were circling him, firing questions faster than he could process them.
"When do we start blocking?"
"Where is the director?"
"Should I wear the red jacket or the black leather?"
"Where is Joe? He promised me a close-up!"
Jim looked like a deer in headlights, spinning in circles as he tried to answer everyone at once.
Ronald stepped up to the camera dolly. "Mr. Cundey," he addressed the Director of Photography, ignoring the chaos for a moment. "The extras are rehearsed. We're burning daylight. Why aren't we rolling?"
Dean Cundey was hunched over the viewfinder. He poked his head out, looking at Ronald with amused eyes. "They want a decision. Jim is giving them an explanation. Actors don't want explanations; they want to be told what to do."
Ronald nodded as he understood. On a film set, indecision was death. The script might say "shoes," but the director had to choose which shoes. There were a thousand micro-decisions to be made before breakfast. Jim was trying to justify his choices; Ronald just needed to make them.
He took a breath and stepped into the fray.
"Ladies! Listen up!" Ronald's voice cut through the noise.
He turned to P.J. Soles, the film's star. She was holding two hangers, looking distressed. "Miss Soles, wear the red jacket."
"Call me P.J.," she said, looking doubtful. "The red one? But the black leather cost me a fortune. I bought it at Fred Segal! Rod Stewart was literally reaching for it when I grabbed it."
"The red one," Ronald insisted firmly. He remembered the vibrant red jacket from the dream footage. He needed a reason she would accept. "P.J., we are shooting at sunrise. The ambient light right now is cool very blue. Black leather will look flat and dead on camera. But red is the complementary color to the background. You'll pop. You're the rock 'n' roll rebel; you need to stand out."
P.J. blinked, impressed by the technical logic. "Is that right? Okay, red it is."
Ronald spun to Mary Woronov, the cult film veteran playing the evil Principal Togar. "Mary, Joe Dante promised you a close-up, and you're getting it. It's the first setup."
He snatched the schedule from Jim's paralyzed hands and pointed to the highlighted strip. "See? 'Principal Togar observes from distance.' That's a telephoto lens shot. Just you."
Mary squinted at the paper, satisfied. "Fine."
"And Dey Young," Ronald turned to the actress playing the brainy Kate Rambeau. "You're the anchor for the first shot. We start blocking now. Stand-ins out, first team in!"
The Director of Photography gave Ronald a subtle thumbs-up.
P.J. Soles was the only one with a dedicated stand-in, a privilege of being the highest-paid star on set (thanks to her roles in Carrie and Halloween). While P.J. went to change, the camera crew began the tedious process of measuring focus.
Since film cameras lack autofocus, the First AC (Assistant Camera) had to manually measure the distance from the focal plane to the subject's eyes. The red-haired AC pulled a tape measure from the camera lens to Dey Young's face, shouting out the footage, then marked the floor with T-shaped tape. He repeated the process for every spot the actors would move to.
By the time the blocking was done, everyone breathed a sigh of relief.
"Makeup! Gigi, final checks!" Ronald shouted through the megaphone.
It was 5:55 AM. The sky was lightening rapidly. Ronald felt a bead of sweat trickle down his back. The set was ready, the actors were prepped, but the director's chair was still empty.
P.J. Soles emerged from the school building, wearing the red jacket. She walked over, looking uncertain again. She touched the lapel. "Where is Allen? I really feel like I should ask him about the jacket..."
The crew looked at Ronald.
Ronald's heart hammered. He couldn't stall anymore. He opened his mouth to bluff, to say the director was in the bathroom, anything....
"He's here!" Jim shouted, pointing toward the parking lot.
A lanky figure, standing nearly six-foot-six, shambled through the school gates. With a mop of wild curly hair and distinctive Middle Eastern features, Allen Arkush, the director of Rock 'n' Roll High School, had finally arrived.
Authors Note:-
That's chapter 4.....
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