It's hot, I know, but this picture will come as no relief. It was taken by an old friend of mine, who is also my forthcoming visual f/x man, during a shoot - last winter - for a new series.
It seems that on the first day of shooting the man behind it all – the legendary writer, I mean – showed up on set with an antique box, given to him (as a birthday present) by another writer of the same genre. She had purchased it at a junk shop in her native city which was owned by a practioner of this one religion (associated with the city). She was told that it would bring good luck to all who owned or came in contact with it, provided they follow one simple rule: never open the box. He brought it along to the shoot for that very reason, and with the same warning.
It was enough for everyone but this one intern (who attends the university with the name of the town/shooting location) – I guess intelligence doesn't ensure common sense or self-control.
What was in the box?
Nothing, or at least nothing visible to the naked eye. Within minutes, however, there were strange goings on. Gear and lights would flicker on and off, sometimes recording images and sounds neither of the cast or crew. In one case, scaffolding collapsed just before the camera rolled, nearly injuring a dozen or more extras.
The final straw, at least for the legendary southern-born actress (who had herself starred in the adaptation of the writer's first novel), was the children.
Several of them had begun acting up on set and off, speaking in voices that weren't their own, and taunting certain adults in town – including local clergy.
“Do something!” she said, in a heated call with the suits.
Knowing they had a problem on hand, the affected were sent to a hospital in the nearby city for evaluation, where after a battery of tests it was concluded that nothing was physically or psychologically wrong with them.
Meanwhile, a team of religious leaders (including the founder of the southern California megachurch), celebrity mediums (including the son of the late psychic, who appeared numerous times on this one former talk show, and predicted – along with her son – my eventual return to Hollywood [there is a tape, in other words – two, actually]), and exorcists (including the former law enforcement officer turned author) was assembled.
They didn't all get along, of course, or share the same perspective, but the consensus view was that the box had contained the departed spirits of a slave ship, sunk in the Gulf of Mexico during the 1700s. On board were also convicts, being transported away from the mother country – these, it seems, were the troublemakers.
The pastors prayed for the souls of the dead, and the mediums urged them to go toward the light. Five exorcisms were performed, three on cast, two on crew (whose confidentiality will be respected).
And by the end of seven days, it was all over. A party was held in the town square, and members of the cast and crew, along with locals, commingled in the late fall sun. Shooting began again.
Which brings us to the night of the photo. The forecast was for a cold night, but not unseasonable. The thermometer dropped from 40 to 30 to by the time this picture was snapped 20. Within minutes, clouds gathered overhead, and snow began to fall - lightly, at first, and eventually at a crushing rate. The cast and crew could barely make it back to the vans before being buried alive. When the night clerk at this one motel where some of them were staying left work, nearly all the rooms had tv sets sitting out on the balcony.
I don't know about you but I'll be watching the premiere today. The rumor is that some of the footage – of ghostly voices, and images – made it into the final cut.
