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It's the last night of shooting at The Tribune. I almost hate to see it all go. I've met a stageload of great people committed to the magic of movies, warts, crazy hours and all.
But we've a long night ahead of us, so no time for tears.
The current shot involved Mr. Impossibly Handsome Reporter (Randall Batinkoff) purring on the phone about a bottle of Cristal and Jennifer Lopez's character. I can't hear the dialogue, which is probably just as well. I mean, why test drive a Jaguar when you can't afford to buy it?
Once again, our intrepid pod people reporters do their pantomime of what we do. Not everyone has returned. Ms. Aching Feet Coffee Girl is missing as are Mr. Taos Archeologist and Mr. Cold Rice Delivery Guy. Word is that his buds came to pick him up last night around midnight only to be surprised at the news that his soul belonged to "Bordertown" for three more hours.
Funny Grandma Receptionist has also not returned, and I am sorry for that. She was so believable as a receptionist. And funny. And a grandma. I miss our seven-second fake conversations for the newsroom pantomime. Sigh.
This shoot goes by relatively quickly -- 1 1/2 hours for 40 seconds of the film. It stops momentarily to remove an ABQBiz mug from a desk and to perch a plant atop a computer screen. As if.
The next scene involves our heroes, Martin Sheen and Jennifer Lopez. As usual, Sheen has already arrived, smiling broadly, chambray shirt.
Here comes Lopez with Marc Anthony. Her hair is curly and caught up in a clip. She has white capris again and a loose, sleeveless pink frilly top that looks much like a window valance.
The scene is another one involving the rejection of her story about the hundreds of Mexican women being killed. Lopez must let loose her wrath on our computers and file cabinets. Hmmm, wonder if the bosses knew about this scene.
Imagine how surreal it is to be working at your desk while hearing Jennifer Lopez arguing and slamming things about. Leave my desk alone, Jen.
Posted by jglenn at June 22, 2005 05:09 PM
Mil gracias for confirming my presence for my family, friends, and colleagues who were thinking maybe I was just running away for a day. My partner in the scene, and I, kept each other (and some other extras) entertained with stories we made up using paste-up sheets we picked up off someone's desk, stories about using trespassing laws to make Saddam into an illegal alien and forcing him to eat Fruit Loops, all the while "arguing" silently about whether to include a photograph of a huge Dorito in the shape of Saddam's head in the "article." I think we may have left, on a desk, one of the sheets with hand-written notes about proposed salaries of $900K+ for one of the other reporters -- things and people were getting pretty loopy by 2:30AM. I suspect we were WAY more animated than the actual residents of your newsroom on most days, but that's show biz. Or so I understand. My family and friends are appropriately impressed that I was within feet of J Lo and Mr. Sheen off and on for hours, and hours, and hours, and . . . I suspect that exhausted my 15 minutes of fame and I must now return to the ignomy of everyday life for those of us whose everyday lives aren't sprinkled with stardust.
Posted by: Mr. Taos Archaeologist at June 23, 2005 12:37 PM
Tribarazzi: Joline Gutierrez Krueger