I'M RUBBER, YOU'RE GLUE
This excerpt is about the making of HOUSE (aka HOUSE - Ding Dong, you're dead)
One rainy afternoon, two gentlemen from Northern California appeared,
both with their portfolios seeking employment on House. The
first was Tony McVey, a sculptor whom had proven himself by working
with stop-motion luminary, Ray Harryhausen. In addition to his
portfolio, which was exciting because of the nature of his work, he
had brought along a carpet bag. After he turned the last page of his
portfolio, he reached into the carpet bag and presented two
stop-motion puppets: A Tyrannosaurus Rex, and a traditional Medieval
Dragon (neck and head only). My heart stopped. I had never held a
stop-motion puppet in my hands and this opportunity transcended the
interview that was being conducted.
Tony informed us that only the extremities (head, hands, feet) had
been sculpted/molded/cast and everything else was 'built up' meaning
that using upholstery foam and thin sheets of latex cast in a flat
plaster mold of reptilian scales, he carefully built up the muscle
forms then covered them with the latex skin. He had skillfully
gathered the thin, scale-y, latex skin in natural wrinkles where they
would occur which only added to the realism of the piece. It was
impressive to be sure. I hoped that I would have the opportunity to
work with Tony because it would have been my plan to pester him for
information constantly, but it was not to be. Tony's pay rate was
outside of what James could afford, so Tony would be spared my
incessant questioning for the next 10 weeks of his life; he was safe.
The second gentleman was Richard Snell. I don't know what happened
during that interview, perhaps having just been turned down by Tony
McVey left a bad taste in James' mouth, but whatever the reason,
James was not responding well to Richard. And to tell the truth, I
didn't get it at all. Richard's portfolio featured clean sculptures,
some light mechanics, skillfully painted maquettes and things – he
even had an over-sized mechanical dragonfly for which he had done all
of the sculpture/molding/casting painting as well as the mechanical
design and construction. James was unimpressed by any of it, and was
not disguising that fact. Richard, unfazed by James' reactions,
continued.
Reaching into a paper bag he had brought with him, Richard snapped a
pair of beautiful fangs he had made into his mouth. Richard revealed
that his grandfather was a dentist and had taught him how to make
exquisite custom teeth that were, by casual observation, better than
any fangs/teeth I had ever seen. James sat, unmoved.
Richard was not to be ignored and went into what I call
“full-salesman mode.” After James became dismissive of Richard's
sculpting, mechanical, and dental skills, Richard reached back into
the bag and handed a custom-tied wig to James. Richard went on to say
that he was a “wig master” (meaning he knew how to block and tie
custom wigs – a process too involved for me to describe here) whom
had furnished wigs to many important clients including Dolly Parton.
James held the wig in his hand, examined the tiny knots that held the
individual hairs into the delicate netting, and handed it back to
Richard. James had been swayed a bit, but not quite enough to bite.
However, Richard wasn't done, not by a long-shot. He reached into
his bag and produced a small, black case, he opened it and produced
something that was unheard of at that point: custom painted, opaque
soft contact lenses.
To put this in proper context, you have to understand that before
that time, custom contact lenses were predominately made by one
company in Los Angeles under the supervision of Dr. Morton
Greenspoon. They were made of hard plastic, hand-painted and sealed
with a thin layer of acrylic. They were expensive to make and
painful to put in an actor's eyes.
And there sat Richard Snell, with the first comfortable alternative
to the process. If there had been a game show-type board, it would
have started flashing “WIN!” Richard opened a small bottle full
of saline solution and “poured” an orange lens with a vertical
cat eye pupil painted on it and put it into his eye. It was
impressive. He then went further and put a pair of lenses into
James' eyes. James went to a mirror and looked at his orange cat
eyes and smiled. Richard was hired on the spot.
As Tony and Richard left, Rick Brophy asked James why he had hired
Richard. James said that the soft-contact lenses alone were reason
enough, but Richard did have skills that were needed for the project,
even if James didn't like him. It never got better between James and
Richard.
Within a couple of weeks, James and Rick had rented a shop space.
Located at what was called the “Golden Mall” in Burbank, which
was home to struggling boutique shops, questionable eateries and
liquor stores before the grand re-gentrification of the 1990s.
Homeless people shuffled around like zombies from a George Romero
movie in contrast to the nearly non-existent foot traffic from
shoppers.
The space itself was not rated as a manufacturing zone (which is
what, technically, makeup effects studios are) which was evident by
many things. First of all, it was located upstairs, over a
used/collectible book shop. Next, most of the floors were carpeted.
At the top of the stairs was a large landing that must have been
designed as a reception or waiting area for whatever business should
have been conducted. There was one corridor than ran the width of
the building from front to back and on either side were rooms
(probably offices) with wood paneling. James assigned room-functions
(sculpting, mold-making, etc) and then assigned people into these
rooms.
Since the space was empty, the first order of business was building
tables. Our “runner” was also James and Rick's assistant, a
woman I had seen around campus at CalArts named Bobbi Heller. In
retrospect, I'm sure that it must have been a very frustrating job
for her to keep driving around Los Angeles picking up hardware and
supplies and returning to Burbank only to discover another 100 things
that had been forgotten, however, she didn't appreciate her all too
frequent trips back and forth to the hardware store.
The tables, made primarily of 4' x 8' plywood on top of a 2”x4”
wood frame were designed by Larry Odien who had blown us all away
with his excellent portfolio that demonstrated unparalleled skill in
both the art and mechanical departments. A native-Californian and
ex-surfer, Larry was easy-going, enthusiastic, and an effective and
frequent problem-solver. Under Larry's direction, the rest of us cut
wood, drilled holes and bolted (rather than using screws or nails)
the heavy duty tables that would be burdened with large sculptures
and even larger molds.
Once all of the tables had been put into place and a small wooden
foam oven was built, we were all assigned duties and rooms and the
work began in earnest.
While we waited for actors to be cast for the demon children, the
witch and the zombie-version of “Big Ben” (whose living
incarnation would be portrayed by actor Richard Moll), we began
working on things that we didn't necessarily need actors in order to
begin. Steve Burg, Howard “Howie” Weed, Brent Baker, Bill
Sturgeon and myself began sculpting creature gloves for a scene where
the protagonist, Roger Cobb (played by William Katt) would be
threatened by primarily unseen creatures on the other side of a
medicine cabinet.
After a couple of days of casting each others arms, we began
sculpting. Meanwhile in the lobby area, Tracy and Barney Burman had
been set up with a long metal armature for a tentacle that was to
join the medicine cabinet creatures that would attack Roger Cobb.
However the most impressive of these projects was a Marlin fish wall
trophy that was to come to life.
If there was one person that I would have to shine a light on and
dump praise upon during House, it might have to be Eric
Fiedler. Where it came to that Marlin, Eric was an impressive one-man
band.
Once he received a fiberglass taxidermy form of a Marlin, Eric went
straight to work sculpting. Within a short few days, he had the
sculpture completed, he made a quick mold of the eye area then began
the process of making a large resin eye that was expertly painted.
He molded the sculpture in fiberglass, cored the mold (again, using
fiberglass) molded the core (I could go on and on), etc...The bottom
line was that Eric nearly single-handed made that entire puppet and
it looked amazing.
So for those of you reading this blog regularly, you see that I'm going into much more detail about certain projects and of course there will be links to photo and video galleries.
Thanks to my family, my friends, my co-workers, my students and my fans. Time to begin another 30 years!
