AD: Thanks for the compliment. Glad you’re enjoying the show.
Did you see the tango? You have no idea how many rehearsals that took! I’ve got two left feet.
I’m smiling as I write him back:
Me: I figured it was a body double. JK. It’s beautiful. Gotta love the great “romantic gesture.”
I don’t even have time to put my phone down before it beeps again:
AD: You’d better keep watching.
I wonder what that means. Looking at the clock, there can be only one more act in today’s show. Right out of the commercial, we’re back with Adam and he is down on one knee, pouring his heart out to Sabrina.
I can’t help but wonder how much of that speech Adam ad-libbed, and if they have a script supervisor somewhere tearing their hair out trying to keep up with his changes. And even now, a part of my mind is still dwelling on my own drama. Perhaps Craig should ask one of our script writers to help him craft his apology to me since he so clearly sucks at it.
Sabrina is suitably moved, but right when she’s about to speak, a loud brash yell intrudes on their moment and, wait, Adam comes barreling into the room. He’s playing twins! The two Adams get into a heated argument and… a gun is pulled… Grayson collapses to the ground. Okay, I did not see that coming. I immediately set my DVR to record tomorrow’s episode, and then pick up my phone again to text Adam.
Me: Holy crap! You played twins? I didn’t know that.
AD: Yeah, right at the end, they wanted to have me go out in classic soap style. I killed myself. And went to prison for life.
It’s not like I don’t see Adam on set, acting every day, but for some reason, it’s bittersweet that I caught his last episode on Days. I start writing a reply:
Me: That’s too bad. I was rooting for the blonde to find happiness, and you were so close to winning her heart.
Then I reread it and come to my senses. The last thing I should be doing is flirting with Adam right now. Flustered, I swipe my finger across the screen to delete it. I need to snap out of this momentary insanity and get back to business. After my little soap escape, the memories of the morning come flooding back. Hogan green-lit our sizzle reel, which means Craig and I have to deliver. At this point, the idea of working with Craig makes my stomach churn, but I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it. Right now, I should be spending this afternoon doing research. I turn off my phone and get out my notebook.
Four hours later, I’ve watched eight different reality shows (how many Housewives franchises are there?!) and have polished off a takeout order of chicken tikka masala (aka, “the usual”) from Gardens of India.
Inspired by my research marathon, I furiously make notes about the show:
Pick 5 main “characters” that really work, focus on their stories
Find a romance (Matthew and Jen?)
Interviews? (I like the format, but don’t want it to seem overly produced or have them end up griping about each other all the time)
No catfights
What’s the main cause of the show? (Save the mountain? Save the town? Revealing what life is like in a small country town?)
I get into the zone mapping out story lines and making lists of production opportunities and potential shooting schedules. Right now I don’t want to think about the faceless person who will get to be in charge of running the show and have the final say for all these things. As I flip pages in my notebook, I wistfully fantasize about myself at the helm:
Fade in: gritty makeshift office
Camera starts on the beautiful snowfall through the window, pans to rugged cramped space that is ground zero for the production team. We hear off-camera dialogue as the camera sweeps the room to land on a beautiful, if clearly exhausted, dishwater blonde, midthirties.
MADDY
All right, everyone, let’s stay focused here. What’s on tap for today? Do we have everything we need for the overnight hike? How’s it coming getting the camera equipment prepped?
PRODUCER #1
Maddy, a couple of camera crews volunteered to go on this shoot, because they have outdoor experience. But I’m just glad I’m not going—it’s going to be below zero every night. And getting all the way to the ridge?
(A couple of producers leaning against a wall snicker. Maddy quells them with a look. The wall behind them is covered in notes, pictures, and a big wall chart with the whole series broken down by episode.)
PRODUCER #2
(needing to jump in)
The Red Camera team used to work on Ice Road Truckers. We should use them.
MADDY
(moving along quickly)
Okay, Red Camera leads the prep for the crew and equipment.
(she refers to her notebook)
And we’ve got Lewis slated to go as producer.
(Maddy looks up at the group, in chairs, on the floor, leaning against the wall)
Where’s Lewis?
PRODUCER #1
He hasn’t responded to any of my texts. We were supposed to meet for breakfast, but he was a no-show.
MADDY
(checks her phone and laptop)
How is this just coming up now?
MADDY
(with a stern look)
We look out for each other, people. Who saw Lewis last?
PRODUCER #3
(from her position on the floor, raises her hand)
We were out shooting footage at a couple of bars, you know… schmoozing with the locals like you wanted us to…
MADDY
(soothingly)
That’s fine, Vanessa. I’m sure it was great. Just tell me what happened. Did Lewis say anything? Did you separate at all?
(They are interrupted by the phone ringing. Maddy quickly grabs her phone.)
MADDY
This is Maddy Carson… yes, Lewis works for me. Is he okay? We were starting to get really worried… oh. Oh no.
(she gestures reassuringly to the worried faces around the room)
No, of course. Yes, just let him know we’ll be by to visit him as soon as we can. Thanks so much.
MADDY
(hangs up the phone, turns to her worried staff)
Lewis is gonna be fine. He’s at the hospital. But he fractured his leg, slipping on some black ice last night, so he’s out. We can’t push back the hike or get behind in the schedule, so here what’s going to happen. I’ll be the producer on the hike.
(she silences the startled murmurs with a strong look)
I know it’s dangerous, but I’ll be fine. I know these mountains like the back of my hand. You…
(pointing at producer #1)
… are going to man the field interviews. You…
(tossing her notebook at producer #2)
… will get these action shots done—we need it for the opening credits and show intro. The rest of you stick to your regular assignments. Get back here for our calls. Stay on top of it, people. We’ve got a show to produce.
(she waits a beat)
And I’ve got to pack.
Energized by my extreme capability and calm (fantasy or not), I decide to stay up as late as I need to get the concept fully mapped out. I take out my trusty label maker so I can create a tab for the Wolf-related section of my notebook. I don’t know if it’s the coffee, or the curry, or the fact that I am in a zone with this idea, but inspiration strikes and I know I have the perfect name for the show. I eagerly punch the letters into the label maker, feeling a little giddy. I hold the notebook away and look at my handiwork: Never Cry Wolf. It’s perfect.
Scene 002
Ext. Highway location shoot—day
It’s a new day and I am back in the trenches, knee-deep in problems. I’m sort of regretting staying up until 2:00 a.m. working on Never Cry Wolf (I can’t stop saying the name) since Murphy’s Law is in full effect on the set of The Wrong Doctor this morning. The actors’ hair/makeup trailer went to the wrong location, so the head makeup artist is throwing something of a tizzy on the travel coor
dinator and me (guilty by association). Either way, Stella made herself heard that she does NOT work under these conditions. How can she be expected to put on the stunt makeup, the bruises and the scars and the tattoos, when the heat of the day—it’s only 8:00 and already about 85 degrees—will make it sweat right back off?
There is more to her tirade, but I offer to go get Frank and flee as fast as I can. I text him to let him know there is a fire to put out in the makeup trailer and head over to the set to see what the holdup was there. The director and Victor are moaning and groaning over a few set pieces that got blown over in an unexpected windstorm last night. It’s going to take set design at least an hour to get things repaired enough to shoot. None of the close-ups can be shot until later in the day when they’ve had more time to get new pieces brought in from the building warehouse.
Fantastic. Well, at least the silver lining is that Stella doesn’t have to panic so much about the makeup wagon. I text Frank to make sure he knows about the holdup and to see if perhaps the delay will help Stella chill out.
My phone immediately chirps with Frank’s reply:
Frank: Nothing will do that. But thanks.
I laugh because it’s true. Stella is definitely high-maintenance, but she’s one of the most talented artists I’ve ever worked with. You’d think she really beats Billy up in the trailer before he comes to set, with those realistic black eyes and bruises.
A bit at loose ends since we have time to kill, I finally listen to Craig’s messages from yesterday. They are all variations of “I’m sorry” and “Don’t you see the bigger picture?” and “Please let’s put this behind us and move forward with Wolf.” I’ve got to say, it’s nice that cool, calm Craig seems so out of sorts. I know I have to be an adult and have a mature conversation with him about how he hurt me and how I don’t know if I can trust him, when what I really want to do is unfriend him and ask my friends in gym class never to speak to him again. I know, it’s not high school, and that’s why I am taking time before I make the call. I have to find my big-girl pants first.
I dare to wander back toward the trailers to make sure things have settled down with Stella, and I see her dragging a shirtless Adam Devin out of his trailer. I hear a string of Spanish curse words as she grabs a nearby apple box, turns it on its side, and shoves an acquiescent Adam into a sitting position.
“I don’t know how they expect me to see in that cave you call a trailer. Frank thinks I can work miracles? Ya vamos a ser! I can’t just slap a tattoo on you in the dark and think no one will notice. The fans, they notice.” Adam’s character has a tattoo high on his right shoulder, near the base of his neck. The tattoo is a critical element of the show’s plotting for this episode. Lucas sees it by accident, recognizes that it’s a military tattoo, and realizes that Ahmed is actually working undercover.
“Ah. Maddy, you’re back. I need your continuity pictures. Mine are in that chingado trailer, and who knows when we’ll see it again.” Stella keeps track of her own continuity, but she and I always compare notes. I love that she’s as meticulous as I am, and she appreciates my backup, especially on days like this.
“Did Frank let you know that set is running behind today too? You’re fine on time.” I focus on keeping my eyes locked on Stella. They do not roam even a little toward half-naked Adam, other than to nod hello.
“No manches. Bring me the pictures.” And she returns her focus to prepping Adam’s shoulder. Duly chastised, I go and fetch my book. I’m back within minutes and they are both right as I left them. Adam patiently sitting still, Stella doing her prep work, still bitching.
“They don’t just give out Emmys for nothing, you know,” Stella complains. As far as I can tell, Adam has said very little, but he keeps nodding and biting back a grin. I have my photo book open to the close-ups I’d taken of the eagle tattoo.
“Hold still, mijo.” Adam does as directed, holding unnaturally still as I approach. Stella lays the premade tattoo on Adam’s shoulder, and we compare it to the photos, getting the placement exactly right.
“It looks a little high on this side. I think it should be here.” I run my finger along his spine, so focused on my obsession with getting the continuity perfect, it sneaks up on me that I am actually touching Adam’s sun-warmed back. I try to cover my instinctive flinch as I pull away, but nothing gets by Stella. “He’s not going to bite, you know.”
Adam risks Stella’s wrath to look over his shoulder at me. “Yeah, Maddy, I’m not going to bite.”
“Turn around,” Stella commands, and she adjusts the tattoo as his shoulders settle into stillness.
I am feeling a little useless and am about to walk away, when Adam says, “So you thought the tango was enough to win Sabrina’s heart, huh?”
“Those moves were impressive. Did the show send you for weekly lessons?”
“Are you kidding? No. They brought in a choreographer for a couple hours the day before. Megan and I only had two days to learn the dance.”
“Seriously? You did a dance like that with what… four hours of rehearsal? How many takes did you have to do?”
“Takes? Plural?” Adam gives a bark of laughter that apparently moves his shoulder and earns him a smack from Stella. “I wish. We do everything in one take there. No time.”
“Wow! Now I am really impressed. You were really good,” I say.
Adam turns his head slightly to look at me without moving his upper body at all. “Thanks,” he says seriously. “That means a lot coming from you.”
“You’re welcome.” I feel slightly awkward about the compliment. “So, what was the backstory? If you hadn’t died, you would have gotten the girl? Soaps are dangerous that way. It gives people the idea that men sweep you off your feet like that in real life.”
Stella snorts and then starts muttering under her breath in Spanish.
“What do you mean, Maddy? Real men don’t tango or sweep women off their feet? I would beg to differ. Right, Stella? Tell her.”
“Oh yes,” says Stella. “I used to tear it up on the dance floor—salsa, tango, merengue, you name it… real men definitely know how to dance.” She lets out a slow whistle.
“See?” Adam says to me, and then looks up at Stella. “And what do you mean ‘used to,’ Stella? You’ve still got moves.”
“Claro que si. I could teach you about life and love in one dance, mijo.”
“Promises, promises. One day you’re going to tease the wrong man and he’ll take you up on your big talk.”
“Well, then, he would be the right man, now, wouldn’t he…” Stella laughs knowingly and Adam joins in.
I have to shake my head to get the somewhat disturbing image of Adam and Stella tearing up the dance floor out of my mind. “All I meant is that scenarios like that are unrealistic; they are the fantasy. In real life, you can’t just ask the girl to dance in front of the whole town and have it solve all your problems.”
“No one said it solved their problems. It was just Grayson’s way of making a statement to Sabrina. A statement bigger than words. Anyone can say ‘I love you.’ In fact, that was the thing with these two characters. They’d both been through the wringer and had no reason to trust their words anymore.”
“Yeah, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had to stop guys from sweeping me off my feet into sexy dances.”
“Maybe you go to the wrong places,” Adam replies.
“Or no places. You work all the time,” Stella interjects, to which I maturely respond with an eye-roll.
“Or with the wrong guys,” Adam adds.
I know when to take cover and change the subject. Besides, the least of my problems with Craig is that he doesn’t dance. “Well, anyway, it was a rare treat to get to catch Days. I used to love that show so much. And it was fun to see you.”
“Yeah, what did you do for the dark day? I imagine you, everywhere you go, unable to resist taking notes on everything around you. Sitting at a Coffee Bean, noting which hand the customers use to open
the door, what shoulder her purse rests on, how many cups are stacked next to the register…,” Adam teases.
“Ha-ha. No, I just had a meeting with Hogan… and Craig in the morning. It ran later than I thought, so I just worked from home in the afternoon.” It feels weird to even mention Craig’s name.
“Ah, with the big cheeses, huh? Are you already plotting who’s coming back next season? I hope you put in a good word for me.” Adam laughs.
“No, if you must know, we’re pitching a new show.” I find myself telling Adam and Stella all about the idea for Never Cry Wolf, leaving out Craig’s treachery. They both seem really into it.
“Don’t tell me you’re going to leave The Wrong Doctor, though?” Adam asks.
“Oh no, no, this is just something on the side. I’m not even sure it’s really going to happen. This is still my job.” I want to squash any gossip that I may be leaving before it travels through the set faster than it would through Harriet’s beauty parlor.
“Well, I think the show sounds amazing, but I’m glad to hear you’re not leaving. We need you around here. Right, Stella?” Adam risks Stella’s wrath to shift as he looks up at me.
“Oh, dios mio, I need you to stop moving,” Stella mutters. “I think I’ve got the picture down now. Maybe you should leave so this one can concentrate on being still. You’re distracting him.”
“Yeah, no problem. Frank’s texting me anyway. I’ll see you on set.”
The truth is, I’m the one who’s distracted.
Scene 003
Scared Scriptless Page 16