Life Lessons

The sky was a deep-space black, awash with a dusting of powdered diamonds and the truant moon was nowhere in sight. Redford’s assistant, Robbie, was accompanying me as I tailed the pick-up truck that carried the flaccid hot-air balloon and its wicker basket along the I-25 highway, taking us south from Santa Fe (where she and I were involved in the making of The Milagro Beanfield War) toward the hot-air balloon capital of America … Albuquerque, New Mexico.

We pulled into a dew-leaden field as the horizon began to glow a ribbon of deep magenta. I helped unfurl the rip-stop nylon as others secured the gondola, double and triple checking connective links.

Our captain pulled a switch and a blast of air began to ripple through the fabric. Then he sparked the pilot light that ignited escaping gas and the searing flame drove heated air into the billowing balloon, giving form and lift to it. Robbie and I joined the captain in the gondola, ropes connected to sand bags were disengaged. A small gust of wind took us laterally for a couple of feet, scraping the ground, shuddering and tipping our vessel slightly, the wicker creaking in protest. Ever so gently we found ourselves frictionless and lightly rocking, free of the earth, arising untethered … a flight commenced! The ground crew waved and called out “Bon voyage.” Leaning over the railing I saw them become specks, scurrying around, jumping into the vehicles and beginning to follow us. Up, up, and away, into the Great Wide Open we rose. Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye a blur that was a hawk, shot within spitting distance directly past us and in a nanosecond, whiplashing, I spun around instinctively to reach out and follow it. We, editors work with and around this reflexive reaction to either visual or psychological movement all the time. Whether it’s predator or prey I’m after, somewhere in my DNA I’m programed to follow in attack mode (some say the best defense can be a good offense) but at a thousand feet up, following would definitely be hazardous to my health. And the logical part of my brain wrestles to override a previous archaic instinct and my systems are overwhelmed with a bio-chemical shutdown mode as a bolt of anxiety swept through my body, feeling as if I’d jammed my finger into an electric socket and swallowed a furball dipped in battery acid. All this in the “blink of an eye” (Thank you Mr. Murch!).  I kid you not, it did take more than a few deep breaths to settle the heebie-jeebies. But then, when our captain shut down the jetting flame, the quietude was symphonic and the soothing turquoise blue sky assuaged any nerves that might’ve wanted to protest. There are streams and rivers in the sky composed of breezes and winds, gentle and blustery and it’s always good to find either as prevailing in the direction you want to go. Clear sailing with a buoyant balloon … we were just a few enraptured drifters riding the air currents. And after all was said and done … unforgettably cool!

The sky was full of magical light in New Mexico. And it was that light that Redford argued with the studio to obtain. Of course, they wanted him to shoot in Los Angeles on the studio lot. If it were strictly a fiduciary concern we most certainly would’ve. But ultimately, everyone and the film itself benefited from his success in getting to take the full production to New Mexico.

Virtually every day someone in the cutting room would call out “Sky alert!” and we’d all drop what we were doing, step outside and behold yet another example of one of nature’s glories. Rolling cumulus clouds bathed in that magical light! Or perhaps rainbows, often double and occasionally triple tiered, framing a bucolic high desert terrain. Sometimes a distant corner of the mesa would be darkened with a gathering storm, majestic in its’ own right but with sheet lightning giving a pulsing inner glow to the roiling clouds while set against the desert and mountain backdrop … jaw dropping!

One day, I was taken aside by Redford and asked to fly up to Sundance on the following morning to assess the feasibility of our continuing post-production at his resort after the shoot had wrapped, then, to let him know what I’d concluded that same evening at dailies. While I was game, I told him, I was skeptical of getting back in time for dailies. Nodding, he said “I’m betting you can!”

As dawn broke the next morning, I was picked up by a Teamster who, instead of driving me to the Albuquerque International Airport, to my surprise, took me to a small regional airport outside of Santa Fe where we drove onto the runway and right up to a purring Learjet. I was greeted by one of the pilots who offered me some light refreshments and told me that he was ready if I was and that I could have my pick of any or all of the eight available seats as I was the only passenger.

And yes, I was waiting when Redford and crew arrived to dailies that evening!

And yes, we continued post-production at Sundance!

Redford had many strengths, however, being on time for appointments was not one of them.

While we were in the middle of the director’s cut, a voiceover recording session at BYU’s facility had been booked but the time to depart the cutting room in order to make the session punctually had come and gone. I thought it prudent to offer to cancel, facetiously adding “…as the only way we could possibly make it would be to take a helicopter!”

Redford’s eyes lit up, “Great idea!” he declared and sprang into action. He grabbed the phone, gave some instructions and I kid you not, 30 minutes later a helicopter was setting down outside of our cutting rooms.

“Eric, have you ever ridden in a helicopter?” he asked. “I’d be lying if I said I have,” I replied. “Well then,” he said, “let this be the first,” and with a twinkle in his eye he added, “You’ll be riding shotgun, next to the pilot!”

The Bell 47G is one big glass fishbowl where I could see past my feet and follow the terrain as we rose, just a few feet above the snow. Initially, I was feeling okay as it was fairly smooth sailing and Redford seemed happy to finally be able to address the voiceover approach to a chaptering structure for the film … Suddenly, we crested the mountain and were met with a wall of wind that buffeted us sideways, lurching the Bell 47G, what I considered, drastically! Looking past my feet I could see the sheer drop of a couple thousand feet to a rocky terrain as we continued to be jostled and a million butterflies rose up, flapping their wings in the pit of my stomach. The pilot made some adjustments and the helicopter settled back down with Redford chuckling, flashing that megawatt smile as we soared away from the Wasatch Mountains, making our session with minutes to spare.

Technology has facilitated the interfacing of the Director and Editor across distances great and small. However, something intangible is lost with the lack of eye-to-eye contact, the sharing of space in a room and the breathing of the same air. While working on location, though one might feel a disconnect with one’s friends and family, there is also the possible view of seeing it as an adventure to be embraced.

“The road is always better than the inn.”

“When you come to a fork in the road … take it!”