Finding the Missed Path. Mark Rashid
Читать онлайн книгу.
the first was to stand tied to a hitch rail; the second was to carry the lead actor, John Diehl (suffering from a gunshot wound) through the desert; the third was to stand still near a fence while John dismounted.
Because Rusty’s tasks were things he already did pretty well, we spent the majority of the pre-production training time with some of the other horses whose tasks were going to be a little more involved. As a result, when it came time for Rusty’s performance, we had only actually gone over the things he was to do a couple of times, and that was almost two weeks prior to the day of his performance.
As was often the case during the filming, what the script called for and what the director actually wanted were two different things, and as it turned out, that was the case on the day we filmed Rusty. As I mentioned, according to the script, Rusty’s first scene was to carry John through the desert with John hunched over in the saddle, acting as if he’d been shot. What the director actually called for was for Rusty to carry John to a specific spot in the desert, stop, and then stand perfectly still while John fell out of the saddle onto the ground.
Because we hadn’t rehearsed any of that, I had to quickly get on Rusty before the scene was to be filmed, ride him out to the spot the director chose for his “mark” and teach him how to be okay with someone hanging on his side while grasping his neck, and then falling to the ground. We had less than five minutes to work it out before the cameras rolled.
Many horses probably would have had trouble with the kind of awkwardness from the saddle that we had to use in order to have the scene look realistic, but Rusty had no problem with it at all. He walked slowly to his mark, stopped exactly where he was supposed to, and stood calmly while John struggled out of the saddle and then fell face first onto the desert floor. We shot the scene three different times, and each time Rusty was as good as gold.
The next scene was in a different location. The script called for Rusty to be filmed while saddled and standing tied to a hitch rail outside a remote line shack. There was to be no other action in the scene. However, the scene just before that was where the bad guy shoots John inside the shack. The director decided he wanted John to stumble out of the shack and more or less drag himself up to the hitch rail where Rusty was tied.
In and of itself, that doesn’t seem like that big a deal, except for the fact that everything at the location was temporarily set in place. This included the line shack itself and the hitch rail that Rusty was tied to. In other words, the hitch rail was only set in the ground about 6 inches and not designed to actually hold a horse should he decide to pull against it even slightly. For that reason alone, I made sure Rusty wasn’t hard tied to the rail, but rather we just looped the rope attached to his halter over the rail. Still, even with the rope looped over the rail, all he really had to do was set back just a little against it and the whole hitch rail would come right up out of the ground with him attached to it.
I stood with Rusty just out of the line of the shot as the cameras rolled and John stumbled out of the shack. He came out so awkwardly that Rusty immediately went on alert, head high and nostrils flared. John hesitated at the door for a second before he began to drag himself in Rusty’s direction. I moved slightly so Rusty could see me. He glanced in my direction, relaxed, then looked back at John and never moved. John dragged himself up to Rusty, then while wrapping his arms around his neck, petted him as if Rusty was going to be his salvation. The scene went so well that it only had to be shot twice.
The last of Rusty’s scenes that day was one for which we had actually planned on using a different horse. It was one of the most important horse scenes in the film and was to be the movie’s opening scene where the story’s main horse character, a Mustang looking relatively thin and injured, is standing in the open desert at night by himself.
Throughout the movie this character is played by my horse, Rocky, who was in such good shape during filming that even with makeup and special lighting he still looked much too healthy for this particular scene. Because Rusty has basically the same coloring and markings as Rocky, and because Rusty at the time was roughly 75 or so pounds lighter than Rocky, we decided to use Rusty as the stand in.
Again, the script was pretty specific about how the shot should look, with the camera fairly close to the horse while the filming took place. This would have made things pretty easy from the standpoint of working with Rusty because even though he was to be completely unrestrained—no halter or lead rope—as well as being in the middle of the open desert with no fences for miles in any direction, it meant that I could at least be close enough to him off camera so he could see me, and I could give him direction to help him stand still while the cameras rolled.
But the director once again had a different idea. Instead of starting relatively close, say within 15 or so feet from Rusty, he wanted it to start with what is known as a wide shot. This meant that the camera would be at least 50 yards away from Rusty, which meant I couldn’t be anywhere near Rusty during the filming, otherwise I would be in the frame.
I honestly had no idea how Rusty would feel about all of this. After all, it was dark, we were in the middle of the desert, there were huge lights everywhere shining into big square reflectors to give the impression it was moonlight, and there were strange people coming and going carrying cables and light stands and more lights and more reflectors and more cables. Still, Rusty seemed quiet enough, but then again, I was standing next to him, he was haltered, and I was holding his lead rope.
To be on the safe side, I asked one of our assistants to go to the trailer and bring back the set of hobbles that were on my saddle. We also brought Rocky and Dash over, the two other horses we had along with us, and had the wranglers hold them out of frame but, we hoped, close enough so Rusty could see them—over 50 yards away.
The director showed us where Rusty would need to be in order for them to get the shot. I put the hobbles on, took his halter off, then lay down on the ground about 10 feet from where Rusty was standing, close enough for him to know I was still with him, but low enough to the ground so I was obscured from the camera by the low-growing brush. They began rolling. Ten seconds went by, then twenty, then thirty, then a minute, two minutes, and three minutes. Rusty stood quietly the entire time. Finally, I heard the director yell, “Cut!”
They repositioned the camera for the second shot, which was to be half the distance from the original. This time, however, I would not be covered by brush if I lay on the ground near Rusty, and the hobbles he was wearing were also in plain sight of the camera. This meant that they would need to be removed, and the closest I could be to him was around 30 feet.
It’s important to note here that we had only had Rusty for about three months by the time filming began. When we first got him he had been pretty out of sorts and more than a little leery of people. He had been difficult to catch and physically stiff and sore. We had not really done much “training” with him up to this point because we were so focused on helping him feel better physically. We had, however, been treating him with the same kindness and understanding with which we treat all of our horses, and he seemed to be responding in a positive way to what we were offering. But to be honest, while I hoped that would be enough for him to have the confidence to be able to do what we were asking, I really had no idea if he would.
I stood next to him with a lead rope draped over his neck while they reset the camera. I took a deep breath and stroked him on the head, then on the neck and shoulder. The first assistant director yelled, “Here we go,” the signal that the camera was set and they were ready to shoot. This meant that I would need to remove the rope from Rusty’s neck and move out of the frame to my spot.
I hesitated a bit as I took the rope off his neck and gave him one last pat on the neck. “We’ll need you to stay right here, partner,” I heard myself say in a voice so quiet that I wasn’t sure if I actually said it out loud or if I just said it in my head.
“Here we go,” the first A.D. said again. He was telling me I needed to get out of the shot.
I petted Rusty on the head one last time and then slowly backed away from him. “Let me know when I’m clear,” I said to nobody in particular.
Rusty watched intently as I backed away from him, but he didn’t move. I backed