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I was lucky enough to direct Christopher Plummer in my first film. He was the absolute BEST. A story...
The film was called "Danny Collins" - an Al Pacino flick that didn't make a huge splash but one which I was extremely proud of. At the last minute, Chris Plummer decided to join us and play Al's best friend and manager...
I was petrified. I'd spent a ton of time with Al so I was no longer as nervous around him as I once was. But Chris, I'd never met. And he was showing up just before we were to start shooting.
The first time we met was at Al's house. When you make a movie with Pacino he likes to have cast over to read and talk about the script. Before the shoot, on weekends, anytime - I spent more time at Al Pacino's house than my 15 year old self would have ever imagined possible.
That day, I sat on Al Pacino's front porch with Al Pacino and Christopher Plummer and listened to them shoot the shit, telling stories about what it was like to fly on the Concord, as huge stars, back in the day...
I was barely present, mentally. I was nervous and worried we would run out of time getting to the script.
I think about that a lot sometimes. That I was on that porch, half-listening to those stories, and I was worrying about nonsense...
I think about that a lot sometimes. That I was on that porch, half-listening to those stories, and I was worrying about nonsense...
That first day, I could tell Chris was thrown by my age. The movie was about an older man and I think he just assumed I'd be older. He had one request for me...
He was not a young man and hoped we wouldn't have to shoot very late at night. He was a perfectionist and an all-time pro and he worried about getting tired and forgetting his lines...
The first night of shooting, the FIRST night, we got delayed and were forced to shoot until 3AM. I had no fucking idea what I was doing.
He never complained. He never missed a line...
He never complained. He never missed a line...
For the rest of that shoot, I lived every day on set determined not to keep Christopher Plummer shooting late. Whenever he was shooting, I raced as fast as I could. I didn't want to break my promise (again) and I didn't want to be responsible for him losing his way in a script...
On his last day of shooting the crew cheered for him. I went over to tell him what it meant to me that he'd done the film. He put his hand on the side of my face and told me that I was "a good boy" and "a great director."
I knew I was neither, but it meant the world to me...
I knew I was neither, but it meant the world to me...
A month later Chris invited me to see a one man show he was doing in Los Angeles at the Ahmanson. I sat there, for almost two hours, as Chris did a non-stop, nearly two hour, performance without a single hitch - it ran LATE into the night.
Afterwards I was lucky enough to go backstage and see him (and meet Shirley MacLaine!). I finally got a minute alone with him...
I said, "Chris, for the last two months I've spent every day shitting myself ,worrying about you forgetting lines if we went too late. You just did a 2 hour monologue without taking a breath and now you're partying backstage with half of Los Angeles..."
He just winked at me.
He hadn't been worried. He just hated shooting late...
He hadn't been worried. He just hated shooting late...
He was an extraordinary talent, and an extraordinarily kind man... and those two things rarely come in the same package.
Wishing I could go back in time to that porch, and listen to those stories again.
Wishing I could go back in time to that porch, and listen to those stories again.
