Day 49 of 91
Hana and Allan Green are set-visit veterans. They’ve visited me on several shoots. On every shoot. They know what shoes to wear. I can see it on their faces as soon as we arrive: They’ve never seen anything like this. No one has.
Ninety-minute set-ups between stunts, no problem. They love every minute.
Then, one problem: I have no idea how to introduce my mom to Harrison. He and I haven’t chatted much after the first meeting and I’m not sure he remembers me.
I figure to wait until he’s done with his coverage and swoop in. But the scene is riddled with technical issues -- a flaring light on a jib keeps getting stuck, easily kicked to VFX on any other production -- and the day passes awkwardly. No good opportunity.
An opening comes during a reset and I choke and miss the moment. They call lunch, which six hours after a late call, is at 7pm, and Harrison is whisked away. I feel awful. My parents, yawning with jet lag, are spent. Then it’s the weekend. They fly home Sunday. My mom says it’s fine, she’s had a ball -- but I know I have, finally and completely, failed as a son.
I get each of them a coffee. They decide to stay a bit longer.
We come back from lunch and, given the reluctant jib, Harrison wraps almost immediately. I grab my mom’s hand and lead her out the door.
I can see Harrison against a pink sunset sky -- iconic lighting follows him -- too far ahead and nearing a waiting golf cart. About to lose him.
Someone from wardrobe flags him to check a shirt -- Harrison bananas back around toward the porta-potty -- where I call out to him: "Harrison!"
He looks at me, not sure why I’m bothering him at the end of his day. Or ever really.
"I’d like to introduce you to my mom."
A pause as the information settles.
Then, his lopsided grin. "Of course."
His day-to-day dreamy self shifts in an instant to the sharp focus reserved for those who merit his most high-wattage attention. He spends several minutes with her, as sparkling as when the camera is rolling. There in front of the fetid porta-potty, I watch my mother chat with her movie star crush of 35 years, striving for casual and failing adorably. For the first time in my life, I get a glimpse of what she must have looked like as a teenager.