STEVE MINER:
We had a lot of problems because we were the first production to use that generation of the Marks 3-D system and we were perpetually in research and development. Then I realized it's really very simple. You just shoot with two different eyes. And if you want to bring something off the screen, it's just going to take a lot of time to rig the gag and shoot it a certain way. In that sense, 3-D is the simplest thing in the world. But it is very confusing and difficult until you work with it. I didn't know that going into Part 3 and it took months to figure it out.
I wanted to use the process whenever possible, and that included bringing things off the screen—not just instruments of death, but poles and anything that would stick out into the audience yet still fit the action and pace of the film. I was originally told that, with 3-D, you couldn't move the camera, but that turned out not to be true. I used the Louma crane extensively, which gives the film some very unusual camera movements. I think that's one of the film's real visual strengths—you feel that you're really going through places. I tried to design all the shots and sequences so it gives the audience a feeling of depth throughout.
GEORGE HIVELY:
We couldn't run dailies on the set. You could not do it on location at a little donkey ranch up outside of Saugus—they had no facilities for screening footage, and certainly not in 3-D. Nowadays, everybody can watch the playback on video instantly, but back then we had to process them at a lab and then screen them late in the early evening hours. Which was a particular problem here because sometimes we were left really strapped—all a guy had to do on the set was turn one knob on the camera and what looked brilliant flat was garbage when you finally saw at it in 3-D. So I was cutting constantly while they shot, trying to stay up to speed with what I was getting back.
In one of the Friday the 13th series' many homages to Alfred Hitchcock's Psycho, a showering Debbie (Tracie Savage) remains blissfully unaware of pending danger, while her boyfriend Andy (Jeffrey Rogers) suffers a gruesome fate at the edge of Jason's blade.
MARTIN JAY SADOFF:
Everything with the camera, and the Louma crane, was done via motion control: the focus-pulling, the convergence—all by servo motors from this big truck. That was pretty avant garde in an era when everybody still rode with the camera. Every shot was done electronically, by crane.
DAVID KATIMS:
The Louma Crane is like this collapsible pole that they attached the 3-D camera to. You didn't have a cameraman sitting in a chair riding along with it or anything like that—it actually was controlled all from inside a trailer. This allowed the camera to go from, let's say, all the way across a meadow as the pole extends, out to a house, in through the window, and then into a room. All in one shot, and without necessarily needing a dolly track or anything like that.
GEORGE HIVELY:
Did you ever see that movie Short Circuit, with the robot with the two eyes? That's kind of what the camera looked like.
RICHARD BROOKER:
The Louma Crane was actually pretty new technology when we shot Part 3. One day they were setting up a scene, where they built this huge track that went on for about 50 or 60 yards, and put the Louma on it, to bring it in close to a window. And the window was on the side of house that was built on an embankment. It took like six hours to rig this whole thing up. And then they went through a run-through, the whole thing collapsed. The Louma went flying. It damaged the crane and they had to rebuild the whole thing. Everybody was freaking out.
DAVID KATIMS:
Everybody just abandoned being around any powerful people at that point.
PAUL KRATKA:
That was a real crisis situation, because you don't think of people coming close to being injured making a movie. The Louma created a lot of frustration because it's an imperfect device. The crew had T-shirts made one day that said, "I Hate the Louma!"
TRACIE SAVAGE:
I worked for 17 years before Friday. I worked with award-winning directors. I worked with Joseph Sargeant, who directed Patton. I've worked with big names. Then to be on this movie, it was kind of hard to take the whole thing seriously, because the impression I got was that is was just a bunch of kids having a good time. But I don't have any bad memories about anybody. Frank Mancuso, Jr. would drive up in his little sports car every day—this was a 24-year-old kid! Steve Miner, pretty much the same thing. Sure, he took it seriously, but he was a kid with a kid's energy—and that's what made it the most fascinating. And with the 3-D, we were doing something that had barely been done before.
PAUL KRATKA:
Frank Mancuso, Jr. was very East Coast—he dressed fully GQ then. He definitely was the mystery power figure to me because of my place in the hierarchy on the set. I felt that Frank was unapproachable because my station in life and his station in life were very different. Now, looking back, I can see that he was just a really cool young guy. He had every right to be kind of arrogant and on a power trip, and I don't think he was. His father had instilled a certain degree of humility in him. He knew he was in charge and that was his deal. I never sensed that he was playing that card or that hand at all. Frank was also very laid back. There are a lot of producers who are more in the face of their director, more controlling and micromanaging. For a young guy like Frank, that's quite a statement, to know not to do that. His was just a presence there—he just lended moral support to Steve Miner because of the huge challenges, always being encouraging, saying things like, "You guys are doing great, keep up the good work." And I remember when difficulties would come up, Frank would go off and huddle with the producers to talk about what next play to make, like a football team.
DAVID KATIMS:
I remember the crew gambled every day—a match-the-pot game that could become very vicious. Frank Mancuso, Jr. lost $400 one time, and was grumbling about it as we were walking back to the set. The A.D. goes, "Yeah, but you lost an hour of production time just playing the game, which is worth about $35,000." Frank just says, "Yeah, but I lost." It was a matter of pride. He would spend several thousand dollars just to win a few hundred bucks!
Barely glimpsed in the released film, the electrocution of Chuck (David Katims) was originally planned to be a much more elaborate effect. "They did some really interesting, pronounced makeup that you never saw," laments Katims. "The headband that I wore was scorched, my face had skin that was falling off of it, and blood was dripping out and it was very gory. It's a shame it didn't make it into the finished film."
CATHERINE PARKS:
It was a very unusual camera, and there was always something going wrong with it. We went way over time, at least longer than any of us expected, but it did allow the cast the chance to hang around a lot. On this film, there was a lot of time between scenes to prepare, so we really got to know one another. And the nature surrounding us, it was a really beautiful place to stay. The camaraderie amongst the actors—we were all new to this. None of us had a bunch of credits behind us, so we were all just happy to be working. And Steve Miner was wonderful—he gave us excellent direction. Frank Mancuso, Jr., was lovely, too. Everyone on the set just worked together so beautifully.
And I remember the catering. It was the best catering I ever had on any movie. We had breakfast, we had mid-morning breakfast, we had lunch, afternoon snacks—an incredible array of steak, lobster and pasta. I think I gained about 10 pounds while I was on that show.
LARRY ZERNER:
As a group of actors, we were pretty tight, and all feeling lucky to be there. For most of us it was our first, and only, big movie. We had a lot of down time, and we would hang out in these trailers—hunting wagons, they called them. So we'd be just sitting around, talking a lot and having fun.
NICK SAVAGE:
My nicest memory from being on that film is that I got to sign my first autograph. I was sitting in my trailer and about 50 kids came over, and they all wanted signed pictures. I didn't have any, so I came back the next day with 70 of them. I spent about two hours signing autog
raphs. And these kids were maybe nine or 10 years old, but they had all seen the other two Fridays. I couldn't believe it! I said, "Your mother let's you watch these movies!?"
GLORIA CHARLES:
I remember shooting that first scene in the grocery, and all I could feel was fear because I was going to be talking about condoms. Strange to say that, I guess, almost 30 years later and with what's on TV today. But I was raised in the South by a little ribbons-and-lace mother. Very proper. And I didn't get the script when I auditioned, and then they throw this condom scene at me. To talk about it on camera was really kind of bizarre for me. I think I look more embarrassed in the scene just for talking about a condom, than the guy whose character is supposed to be embarrassed for actually having one.
PAUL KRATKA:
I did think the pairing of all the couples in the film was interesting. I think Tracie and Jeffrey Rogers were like the beefcake couple, and David and Rachel Howard the comic relief, and Larry and Catherine were such an interesting dichotomy—that's not a couple you'd necessarily expect to be matched up. But I thought they went really well together. We all did.
CATHERINE PARKS:
I think given Vera's character, she would have approached any relationship very slowly. You know, she comes from a Spanish family, where the women are chaperoned. I also thought she would be a serious sort of person who wasn't into the practical joke thing. So she was saddled with this blind date with Shelly. But then they bonded in a way, especially after the scene in the grocery store and being picked on by the motorcycle gang. I think shared experiences like that bring people together. So I played Vera as if she did see the good in Shelly. And despite the fact that she was supposed to be a babe, I don't think Vera's character knew that or felt that way about herself. I think she had her own set of insecurities she was dealing with.
LARRY ZERNER:
The only thing I couldn't figure out about Shelly was that they never show him with any other luggage. He's able to pull all these practical jokes out of nowhere. My "whole world" is in that little box. How I got the spear gun and the hockey mask and the fake ax and the wet suit all in there, I'll never know…
"I only remembered the cast by how I killed them," laughs Richard Brooker. "Oh, you were the poker. You were the spear gun…"
DAVID KATIMS:
When the material is lacking, you have to rely on yourself to make the character interesting. Chuck was definitely going to be made a comedian, so I expected to work on some of the physical comedy that we could have come up with. But, unfortunately, that was pretty much abandoned. Not that it would have made a ton of difference, but really, if we had gone with this guy as a real stoner, and using that as a comedic foil, it would have been a lot of more interesting. Have him be so wasted that he is avoiding Jason by accident, out of a drug stupor. Smoke a joint and fall on his face and have an ax fly by, things like that. Not that the movie needed it, as obviously it was very successful. But why not make it even better?
No one wanted to get into that. Steve Miner was not on top of his directing game yet. I remember him saying, "Well, try doing it different" without having a clue as to what in particular. Because my thinking is, "I'm an instrument for you, tell me how you want me to play it and I'll give it a shot." I am sure Steve's gotten much better. And he was a nice enough guy. I just didn't have the balls to say, "You know, it really would work better this way." I just did whatever they said.
TRACIE SAVAGE:
The key priority was making sure that the 3-D effects worked. It didn't matter how the lines were delivered. It didn't matter if we stumbled or fumbled. It didn't matter if our performance was not perfect. We never did a second take because "the actor" felt it could be better. The main concern—and it was a good concern—was making sure the 3-D effects worked. And it was a very technical, very difficult thing to do. It could take two to three hours to set up lighting for certain scenes. Then we'd do one take and it was, "Okay, moving on!"
LARRY ZERNER:
It quickly became clear that most of the time the performances didn't matter. When we were shooting that scene at the convenience store with the gang members and I had to throw a wallet at the camera, it was, "Hit the camera!" Then after 10 takes it was, "Hit the camera, asshole!" I didn't have the temerity to stand up and ask to do anything different. I did have one big improv moment, though. Remember when I say, "Bitch" after being rejected by Vera? I said that one line right before Steve Miner was going to say "Cut!" And everybody laughed. So they kept it in.
PAUL KRATKA:
At times it was palpable—you could feel Steve Miner was adhering to a certain schedule and that he was aware of the budget. One time I was frustrated that I didn't get to do another take. And his comment was, "Paul, I have to be candid with you. I'm just trying to get this thing in on time. This is not the type of movie where you get endless takes to do what you think feels good in performance. It's Friday the 13th." It could be frustrating. Even though it's a silly horror movie, you want to do multiple takes so you can try different shadings. There was none of that on this film.
DANA KIMMELL:
When we shot the very last scene, where the cops take me out to the police car and I go crazy, they weren't happy with the first take. Steve Miner was so funny. I asked, "Okay, Steve—what do you want me to do?" He just said, "Uh, just do something… different." So I just went nuts.
STEVE SUSSKIND:
It can be tricky working for friends. They can be overly complimentary, or overly difficult and expect a lot out of you. But Steve Miner was very easy-going, very open to suggestion. In fact, so much so that while I was watching him, and looking around at seemingly nothing happening—crew people diddling around and stuff like that—I'd think, "My God! If I were the director, I'd be saying, 'C'mon people, let's go! We've got a film to make here!'" But I never saw him lose his temper or be short with anybody.
The 3-D added hours to everything. One day, the only thing I did was sit down on the can, take a swig of booze and walk out of frame. No dialogue, nothing. And at first, the booze was just iced tea in a Jack Daniels bottle. Then I remember the property master cracking open a brand new bottle of Jack Daniels for the shot, and was about to pour it all out. I don't know whether he suggested it or I suggested it, but we both came to the same conclusion at the same time. I said, "If I really don't have any dialogue, it seems a shame to pour all that Jack Daniels out and put in iced tea. Why don't you just leave it in there?" So when I pull up that bottle of Jack Daniels, unscrew it and take a swig, that was real whiskey. I can just sit there, do a dozen takes and get smashed. And, by the way, that "plop-plop" sound effect after my character gets up off the john? I didn't know about that, and I really didn't like it, because I don't wipe my tush. I just pull my pants up and get up. And I don't even flush. Disgusting!
LARRY ZERNER:
The only preparation for the 3-D they had us do before the movie began was, they said, "You have to learn to use a paddleball." In a sort of homage to the original House of Wax, they were going to have a scene where we were all paddling into the camera. But then they ended up cutting that all out anyway, because no one could really do it. At least, we couldn't do it right into the camera. So then I told them I could juggle, and that's when they added the juggling scene instead. I was actually a pretty good juggler at the time—I had studied juggling with a guy who was one of the best jugglers in the world—so it worked out and was really fun.
Part 3's final draft screenplay originally featured a return engagement for the character of Abel (David Wiley). Seen here warning heroine Chris and Rick of pending danger, this footage was excised from the theatrical release version for editorial reasons. It remains unreleased.
STEVE MINER:
Actually, I'm really lazy. But I plan ahead, and have good people working with me, so that makes it easy. I've also been lucky in that I've been able to work with a lot of good actors. I've always felt that you have to give actors room and deal with them as partners
rather than as actor and director. With great actors, all you have to do is get out of their way.
RICHARD BROOKER:
Steve Miner said to me, "Don't ask me what your motivation is. Just kill her!" He would say that Jason is like the shark in JAWS—but I don't necessarily agree with that. I studied acting for many years, and if you're playing a silent role and you can't express yourself with emotions, then what's the point? It doesn't matter whether you talk or not. If you're playing a role like that, the way you move and your body reactions can create a certain kind of character, which I think, hopefully, Jason in Part 3 is.
CHERI MAUGHANS:
I walked on the set the first day, and when the writers got a look at me they made a beeline right for Steve Miner. I knew what they were saying—I didn't fit the stereotype the way it was written, which was a fat girl who couldn't stop eating and had pimples in high school. That would have been who they would have cast. But Steve wasn't afraid of what anybody was going to say. And he wasn't afraid of his writers, obviously.
PETRU POPESCU:
I didn't see that anybody had a distinct sense of authority on the set. That made it a pleasant process, but it would have been a stretch it to say anyone was the author of this. It was a job. Creatively, I don't think that Steve Miner really got much out of this movie. I don't think anyone did. And obviously some of these people were just lucky to be there.
I could tell that these people—almost every one of them—operated with the audience in mind to such an extent that it was completely different than the artistic world I had been raised in, in which there was an elitist feeling that an artist does what an artist wants to do, and either the audience discovers that, or to hell with the audience. Here, there were people who were unashamedly preoccupied about how these youngsters in the audience would respond. That was very interesting, of course, if only in an engineering sense.
Crystal Lake Memories: The Complete History of Friday the 13th (Enhanced Edition) Page 25