Shooting 007: And Other Celluloid Adventures (9 page)

Writing of concerns about directors and cinematographers brings to mind an uncomfortable situation when I once asked myself who was right and who was wrong.

As Harry’s camera assistant I quickly recognised the good and the not-so-good side of his character. Perhaps his temper was a legacy from family genes, though in hindsight this problem possibly came from not understanding others’ difficulties – it was usually the difficulties of those accountable for the daily call sheet schedules that were perennial hotbeds for the guv. The few words that Harry sparred with Guy would be a spit in the ocean.

Even so, my allegiance to Harry would remain steadfast whatever the cost; others would scoff at this but I believe my observations are fair and unbiased. From all I witnessed over the years, I feel that Harry was right in most situations which irritated him, but with his hidden frustration burning away inside he found it difficult to control his inner feelings, which could quickly turn to resentment, finally boiling over to anger in seconds. Should a repeated ‘how long, Harry?’ enquiry be made concerning the lighting time, a terse quick reply would come, resentful and irritated whether justified or not. This was soon followed by genuine regret at his initial reaction, which had probably been over the top, now too late to repair the damage. I could read Harry’s mind when his behaviour suggested something was irritating him; others would hardly recognise the danger signals.

Contraband Spain
was directed by Lawrence Huntington, with Richard Greene, the hero in the story, assisted by the pretty Anouk Aimée, going in pursuit of the smugglers and counterfeiters on the French–Spanish border responsible for his brother’s murder.

With our filming completed in Spain, we travelled to Dover to complete our location work. As we were filming in the docks at night it soon became clear that things were not going well for Harry, with the tell-tale signs of his frustration giving cause for increasing alarm. The night of the long knives would soon be with us!

The first assistant director, Denis Johnson, was a big man in stature; he was a polite, friendly colleague, liked by everyone and could take the odd unpleasant remark from Harry in his stride without getting too upset. It was well into the early hours when Harry’s latest crisis finally surfaced, certainly not helped by Denis’s enquiry, ‘How long, Harry?’

Unable to control his frustration any longer and troubled by the usual problem of an over-ambitious call sheet – Denis’s call sheet – Harry finally snapped, verbally attacking the one person he held responsible for this unachievable schedule. Denis would now suffer the spite of Harry’s tongue, which would prove to be a terrible mistake for Harry. The normally polite, calm and unassuming Denis suddenly turned on him, furious at the disrespect shown in front of the unit. He was not prepared to take any more of Harry’s rudeness and the resulting embarrassing scene would play out to its end. In the aftermath of Denis calming down it was clear to all where the general sympathy would lie, leaving Harry to suffer in his own discomfort. Personally, I was shaken by the madness of it all, which made it impossible for me to defend Harry’s latest outburst, but with dawn – the guilty party responsible for the latest scheduling crisis – breaking on the horizon, Harry’s position was not a happy one.

There were many reasons why
Contraband Spain
would leave a bad taste in the mouth, most of which came from production demands with the scheduling, hence my reasoning about who was right and who was wrong. Other concerns would inevitably surface which I dare not go into, though there were times when the scene behind the camera was more interesting than the one we were filming. Temperaments are difficult to handle in a highly charged industry when you are constantly under pressure in one way or another, yet somehow we manage to survive, shrugging it off like water falling off a duck’s back.

I was both surprised and disappointed when Harry went off to film
The Secret Tent
without his usual camera crew, but obviously he was embarrassed about all that had gone on before and needed time to get over it. With the sudden disappearance of my only contact I was left wondering if it would mean starting all over again.

Fortunately, this happened at a time when the film industry was busy, with opportunities to work on other films and meet up with new colleagues – names that I could add to my short list of contacts, which was always an important issue for me. However, on this occasion the number of new contacts would be extremely limited as I instead found myself on one of the many two-man camera crews working on John Huston’s
Moby
Dick
– a massive film by any scale.

Although my contribution would be small I would experience the rare opportunity of whale hunting, with stuntmen doubling for key actors, their sole intention being the killing of one whale in particular, given the name Moby Dick. Filming in a turbulent Irish Sea made handheld camera work extremely difficult if not virtually impossible to control; at times the only thing I could do would be to support the camera operator who had the near-impossible task of capturing the spearing of Herman Melville’s legendary whale. Although the rough sea was of little help to the killing of Moby Dick it certainly made the sequence visually more interesting, with the waves battering our little boat as it pitched up and down. At least this offered a rare exciting experience of the chase, even if it was with an artificial whale.

Our tall sailing ship, Captain Ahab’s
Pequod
, had restrictions on when she could or could not put to sea. Should the wind speed be above 10 knots the ship would remain in harbour as filming was not possible. Memories come to mind now of the gambling that took place on board. There were three card schools, the top school with the likes of John Huston, Gregory Peck and others all playing poker, wagering a small fortune. Moving along the deck one would find a school of moderation for the less wealthy, before finally coming down to the lowest form of life – camera crews with a top bet of two shillings, which probably suggested that you had a very good hand.

When my small effort was completed, it was followed by a trip to the Canary Islands, where I would join up with the main unit who were already filming there, and my first experience as part of Oswald Morris’s camera crew.

As for the film, I loved it – simply brilliant, even if that is to disagree with the odd biased commentator who for reasons of their own could not shower praise on this masterpiece.
Moby
Dick
was a classic of its time: an ambitious, challenging epic with wonderful performances enhanced with Oswald Morris’s cinematography. The film was loaded with well-known names and played to full houses wherever it was shown. Gregory Peck’s Captain Ahab was a man determined to kill Moby Dick whatever the consequences, in a personal vendetta after losing his leg in a previous encounter with the great white whale. With Richard Basehart, Leo Genn, James Robertson Justice, Harry Andrews and Bernard Miles, the cast goes on and on with this memorable movie.

The phone rang! It would seem that Harry Waxman was back in town, asking me to meet him at Pinewood Studios. Apparently
Contraband
Spain
was now past history, conveniently forgotten with the passing of time, and still no explanation as to why I had been dumped in the first place. I thought it best not to ask and just act as if nothing had happened. Even so, Harry was clearly embarrassed by that unfortunate incident – could this be a new dawn breaking with the guv?

All of the madness had come from trying to meet what Harry considered an impossible schedule at the expense of the quality of his work. It was a compromise which Harry always struggled with but now left me wondering where his next challenge would come from.

Once again Harry would team up with Guy Green for
House of Secrets
, in a period where films could now be made in a number of different formats. Hollywood’s CinemaScope system was clearly ahead in this race but soon competition would arrive with the new VistaVision process favoured by the Rank Organisation; with our interiors being filmed at Rank’s Pinewood Studios this guaranteed VistaVision getting the nod for the film
–
one of the first British films to use this new process.

To reduce the noise of the camera motor, VistaVision cameras were housed in large cumbersome blimps – nearly impossible tools to work with. The poor camera operator almost needed an extension implant in his neck just to operate this ridiculous tool. However, that problem would quickly be resolved with a periscope viewfinder which was hurriedly designed to ease the camera operator’s pain. The film ran through the camera gate from side to side (each frame now eight perforations long instead of the usual four), which would present new challenges for the camera assistants, and, as with all new equipment, other problems would inevitably surface.

On location in France filming
House of Secrets
(1956). Guy Green directs at right (crouching forward), with actor Michael Craig in the light overcoat standing behind Guy. Jimmy Bawden was camera operator with cinematographer Harry Waxman standing to the left of the camera. Other recognisable technicians include continuity lady Tilly Day (silver hair, wearing sunglasses) and Bob Asher, the first assistant director, standing with hand on his hip, while I crouch beneath the Vistavision camera. My personal moment from hell came on this picture, where I was responsible for an entire day’s filming being ruined.

Harry Waxman, who always enjoyed the challenge of technical debate, disagreed with Guy regarding the size of close-ups in this new format. I tuned in to this interesting discussion as two respected cinematographers offered differing opinions. Sitting on the fence, I could see both points of view, though in the end silently favoured Guy’s visual explanation over Harry’s theoretical one; the camera operator would compose the framing to the director’s liking.

Our filming started in Paris, where the first scene required the camera to hang over the edge of the first stage of the Eiffel Tower. The thought of this new and expensive piece of equipment falling from that height was really terrifying, particularly as the cost of the camera alone was rumoured to be in excess of seven hundred thousand pounds. With all the security ropes which the cautious grip used in tying it down, the camera operator could barely get near the camera, but this was understandable and we were all very paranoid when using this new, very expensive, equipment before returning it to ground level.

I promised earlier that my story would remain as honest as memory allows. With this in mind I am now obliged to tell of a sickening incident where there is no disguising what really happened. In short, I was responsible for ruining an entire day’s filming. My feeble excuse was to put the blame on the new VistaVision camera – it was a different monster from a camera assistant’s point of view – but even that pathetic explanation could not be a defence when you consider how the problem could have been prevented. It is necessary that I mention this horrible incident, which still haunts me even in retirement; it requires as honest an explanation as possible.