You hear about rock stars and boys bands dealing with crazed fans, but what you may not realize is that Disney is a magnet for the odd and sometimes extreme fans. We've had families up and move to the area, just so they could get closer to a performer. This happened when we had a show called Doug. It originally was a Nickelodeon show that Disney bought. They made a movie out of it that did poorly and created a show at The Studios that was short lived. Basically, Disney almost killed the franchise. Nickelodeon bought it back after a couple of years though. For those who are not familiar with Doug, it was a show about a pre-teen boy with a huge imagination. The cast wore various colors of make up like Skeeter was Green, Rodger was blue, Patty was orange. A young girl had a huge crush on Rodger and convinced her mom to move to Orlando so they could get closer to Disney. In fact, the cast member had to start leaving through different doors each day on his way home because she'd wait for him at the stage door. We never knew if she wanted Rodger 'the person', 'the person' who played Rodger, or if she just had a thing for blue people.
Hunchback of Notre Dame seemed to have the freaky fans coming out of the wood work. We had one fan, a young lady, we refered to as cape girl. During the show, she'd spin around with her jacket and pretend to do the gypsie cape routine. But Wait, there's more. She later got hired as a costuming cast member. Let's just say she scared the cast. One day she was in the green room and showed someone the secret compartment in her ring. I kid you not, she said, "This is where I keep my poison to kill people." Needless to say, managment moved her very quickly.
One of our Quasimodo cast members got a fan letter one day. It started out normal. "I love your show. I think you're a great singer. . . " . Then it got odd. She said that 'she was new to the area and we were the closest thing to family that she had and that she was coming back on her birthday to spend all day at the show,' and she gave us the date. THEN it got weird. she asked our Quasimodo cast member, 'are you into paganism ? If you're not, that's okay.' Needless to say, we were a bit alarmed and intrigued. In the greenroom there was a dry erase board that listed who where the equity cast members and who were the gypsies for the day. In the middle of those two lists someone wrote COUNTDOWN TO W##F3N DAY (I don't want to use her name, but let's just say it was not a normal name.) Sure enough, on that day, half way through the day, one of the operations people came to the green room and told us she was there. I have never seen that green room clear so fast in my life. Everyone ran out to the stage to see who this girl was. It scared her and she never came back.
We have a gentleman who insists on putting disney performers on his body. Across his back is a tatoo of one of our Streetmosphere performers. The face of one of the Indy Stuntmen (the German Giant) is tatooed on his knee. During the Star wars Weekends we have a lady fan who has legally changed her last name to Skywalker Quigon Kenobi. She'd come every day to the event and stay all day dressed in her Jedi garb.
The Studios is known for it's special events. StarWars Weekends has seventy to eighty Star Wars characters from various Jedi's to three different type of troopers (storm, sand and clone). Storm troopers wear spandex and plastic armour. Guests tend to get a little frisky with some one in spandex. . . I wonder why? Not all Storm troopers are guys. One of the female storm troopers got pinched by a couple of flirty girls. The Storm Trooper informed them she was a girl and embarassed the snot out of these girls. Supersoap Weekends is a time I was glad to be behind the wall. When the park opens, they do a little rope drop ceremony. During Super Soap, it is like the running of the bulls, or as one of our stage managers put it, the running of the house wives. They open the gates and literally thousands of normally sane individuals turn into steam rollers and book it to the back of the park so them can get numbers for the autograph sessions. While I was working as a runner at a resort, I had to drive a guest to the Studios during Super Soap. The whole way over there she kept saying, " I'm not one of those crazed fans." Then she'd turn to her daughter and say, "As soon as we get out you have to run." Not a crazed fan . . . rriiight. ESPN The Weekend is a testostrone version of Super Soap. It's very amusing to see all these guys try to act calm, cool and collected, but as soon as one of the sports stars walk past, they turn into a twelve year old. That's okay, Mr Armchair Quarterback, no one saw you get all giddy when the cheerleaders came out.
Then we have the Dead Dog Lady. Yes, that's right I said the Dead dog Lady. When she and her daughter come to the park, her husband stays in the car all day. He thinks Disney is evil or something. The mother and daughter go to Beauty and the Beast and sit down front center for all five shows. In her lap is a plastic grocery bag. In the bag is a freeze dried / taxidermied little black poodle. Needless to the say the cast gets a bit un-nerved knowing that there is a dead dog in the front row.
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Monday, June 2, 2008
Indiana Jones Epic Stunt Spectacular
Or as we call it EPIC. The oldest show at the Studios, it opened shortly after the park opened. I can best describe Epic as working in a 'Boy's Club'. A good chunk of the cast has Peter Pan syndrome. . . they refuse to grow up. You never knew what was going to happen next. It took a certian personality to be able to work at Epic: not easily offended, ability to go with the flow and most importantly 'Shy People Need Not Apply'. Not to say that my cast of 'Lost Boys' was difficult to work with, but on more than one of occasion we had costuming dressers get trained at Epic and never come back.
With a cast of close to twenty guys and three girls per day, testosterone and bravado filled the room. And "oh the things you learn about guys when you're the only female in the room." I'll never forget, we were on a long break between shows and only a handful of people stuck around the green room. One of the cast, who grew up in Alaska, started talking about peeing into the wind and watching it freeze. I was eating lunch. All I could say was "Thanks for THAT visual." Working with a bunch of half dressed men, we had a lot of visuals. One of the guys, who had been there since day one, walked into wardrobe with only a towel wrapped around his waist. That's it. Nothing else. We said, "We're putting a load of towels in the washer, we need that one too." He dropped it and kept on walking. Now THAT WAS A VISUAL.
A costuming job at Epic was mostly presetting clothes, replacing worn out costumes, sorting laundry and dressing the guests which were picked out of the audience to be in the show. Sounds pretty easy. . .right. Wrong. Getting the 'boys' to give up a worn out costume was like getting Linus to give up his blanket. The conversations usally went something like this. "You need to try this on." "Later." "You need to try this on." "Why? I have one already." "It's falling apart. You need a new one." "I like my old one." " You look like you were on the losing end of a dog fight." "No I don't." Basically, you had to wear them down. . . in a nice, big sisterly way. One of the worst was Tumbler "P". I called him the brother i never wanted. He harrassed me. I harrassed him. One sure fire way to teach new cast members to put up thier shoes, hats, ect, was to put them in the freezer. The next day he had to wear frozen shoes, but he never forgot to them away again. Everyone expected the clothes to be ripped to shreds, the shoes to fall apart and the hats to eventually disintegrate. It was the unexpected wardrobe malfunction that kept life interesting. Indy has a monlogue where he explains the difference between a stunt double and stunt actor. Indy 'E' happened to be wearing a pair of button fly pants that wouldn't stay buttoned. He did his whole speach not only with his fly open, but his shirt sticking out. Dark brown pants. Light tan shirt tail poking out. Enough said.
I often thought I had the wierdest job in the world. I helped people change clothes during shows. Then, during the show, I'd see the six tumblers walking towards me taking thier shirts off for thier costume change, and think "I like my job." One day, a group of girls (guests) discovered they could stand on the handicap ramp and see the guys as well and started whistling. Amazingly, the guys turned shy all of a sudden. Thier one costume change was by no means a quick change. In fact, they had time to get into water fights, feed the begging squirrels, torment the new dressers and throw each others costumes in to the Mayan cart. (Scene one is a Mayan Temple scene, afterwards the set separates into three sections and rolls off to the side.)
Thier shenanigans didn't stop there. In the green room, if you heard the phrase, "Hanger in flight", you learned to steer clear of the costume rack. They loved to throw the heavy costume hangers at the rack and see if they could make them stay on the rail. They rarely made it. For several years they had a ping pong table and, for a while, full contact ping pong games dominated the greenroom. They'd hit the ball so hard, it'd ricochceted off the walls. Then there was Mote Ball. I am not sure where the name came from, but it's hybrid of a shortened tennis court, using racquetball racquet with elements of jai lai thrown in for good measure. The techs and certian cast members had mini-tournements between shows. The court was actualy a driveway leading to the the stage. The backstop on one side was the high stage wall/gate. The back stop on the other side was what ever car happened to be driving past. The sides were marked out by the Tech break trailer to one side and the tent storing the extra rolling boulders to the other.
The most awesome thing about working the show for the number of years that I did, was I saw kids with little to no experience come in and learn how to be a stunt performer. Now, I can't watch a movie with out sitting throught the credits to see if I know any of them. I'll always remember a kid from south Florida. He was a high school football star. The first time he sauntered into the trailer, he wore a big cowboy hat and had his shirt halfway unbuttoned. Well, let's just say, boot camp had begun. That training session there were six new tumblers, (I think), one or two new Marions and a couple new Indy's. Thier trainer was Tumbler "O", or as I called him Sargent "O". He ran that bunch of new hires ragged. During training they ran circuits, which consists of climbing the buildings of the market place (scene two sets), running across the tops of the buildings to the Indy high fall, do the high fall and run back to the begining. Between shows they'd learn about throwing punches, the slide for life and three-man pyramids. At one point in time when the Indy high fall wasn't high enough, they went all the way to the roof of the stage and jumped out of the rafters. Absolutely, utterly insane. One day, in the greenroom, they were watching a home video of someone on fire. Only at EPIC does that not seem wierd. That week end one of stunt captians had an unofficial training session at his home on how to do fire stunts.
By the way, the high school football star stuck around for a three four years, then moved to L.A. and became Toby Maguier's stunt double in Spiderman. Not bad, eh. I found an interview with him on You Yube http://www.anthonyplascencia.com/video/stuntman.html Another rags to riches story has to do with a guy who started in costuming. He went to the casting center and told them he wanted to be in costuming at Epic. They tried to taking him out of it. He insisted. His goal was to see what it took to get cast in the show from the inside out. He auditioned, but didn't make it. He auditioned again. He still didn't make it. In between auditions the Indy's would work with him on what he needed to improve for the next time. I believe it took four or five times before he got cast. Once he broke through, he was contracted as a primary Indy stunt double for a while, then he moved to L.A. Long story short, he landed work on a Tim Allen movie as his stunt double. Now, he's Mr. Allen's primary stunt double.
The tell tale signs of an Indy in training: knee pads, elbow pads, butt pads, brand new timberline boots all while wearing eye protection and the leather jacket in 90 degree Florida summers, just so you can learn that dam whip routine. Oh, yeah, throw in a few character performers running for thier lives because they're afraid of being accidently hit by the thing on thier way to the parade trailer.
There are plenty of more EPIC stories to come, so come back and check it out.
With a cast of close to twenty guys and three girls per day, testosterone and bravado filled the room. And "oh the things you learn about guys when you're the only female in the room." I'll never forget, we were on a long break between shows and only a handful of people stuck around the green room. One of the cast, who grew up in Alaska, started talking about peeing into the wind and watching it freeze. I was eating lunch. All I could say was "Thanks for THAT visual." Working with a bunch of half dressed men, we had a lot of visuals. One of the guys, who had been there since day one, walked into wardrobe with only a towel wrapped around his waist. That's it. Nothing else. We said, "We're putting a load of towels in the washer, we need that one too." He dropped it and kept on walking. Now THAT WAS A VISUAL.
A costuming job at Epic was mostly presetting clothes, replacing worn out costumes, sorting laundry and dressing the guests which were picked out of the audience to be in the show. Sounds pretty easy. . .right. Wrong. Getting the 'boys' to give up a worn out costume was like getting Linus to give up his blanket. The conversations usally went something like this. "You need to try this on." "Later." "You need to try this on." "Why? I have one already." "It's falling apart. You need a new one." "I like my old one." " You look like you were on the losing end of a dog fight." "No I don't." Basically, you had to wear them down. . . in a nice, big sisterly way. One of the worst was Tumbler "P". I called him the brother i never wanted. He harrassed me. I harrassed him. One sure fire way to teach new cast members to put up thier shoes, hats, ect, was to put them in the freezer. The next day he had to wear frozen shoes, but he never forgot to them away again. Everyone expected the clothes to be ripped to shreds, the shoes to fall apart and the hats to eventually disintegrate. It was the unexpected wardrobe malfunction that kept life interesting. Indy has a monlogue where he explains the difference between a stunt double and stunt actor. Indy 'E' happened to be wearing a pair of button fly pants that wouldn't stay buttoned. He did his whole speach not only with his fly open, but his shirt sticking out. Dark brown pants. Light tan shirt tail poking out. Enough said.
I often thought I had the wierdest job in the world. I helped people change clothes during shows. Then, during the show, I'd see the six tumblers walking towards me taking thier shirts off for thier costume change, and think "I like my job." One day, a group of girls (guests) discovered they could stand on the handicap ramp and see the guys as well and started whistling. Amazingly, the guys turned shy all of a sudden. Thier one costume change was by no means a quick change. In fact, they had time to get into water fights, feed the begging squirrels, torment the new dressers and throw each others costumes in to the Mayan cart. (Scene one is a Mayan Temple scene, afterwards the set separates into three sections and rolls off to the side.)
Thier shenanigans didn't stop there. In the green room, if you heard the phrase, "Hanger in flight", you learned to steer clear of the costume rack. They loved to throw the heavy costume hangers at the rack and see if they could make them stay on the rail. They rarely made it. For several years they had a ping pong table and, for a while, full contact ping pong games dominated the greenroom. They'd hit the ball so hard, it'd ricochceted off the walls. Then there was Mote Ball. I am not sure where the name came from, but it's hybrid of a shortened tennis court, using racquetball racquet with elements of jai lai thrown in for good measure. The techs and certian cast members had mini-tournements between shows. The court was actualy a driveway leading to the the stage. The backstop on one side was the high stage wall/gate. The back stop on the other side was what ever car happened to be driving past. The sides were marked out by the Tech break trailer to one side and the tent storing the extra rolling boulders to the other.
The most awesome thing about working the show for the number of years that I did, was I saw kids with little to no experience come in and learn how to be a stunt performer. Now, I can't watch a movie with out sitting throught the credits to see if I know any of them. I'll always remember a kid from south Florida. He was a high school football star. The first time he sauntered into the trailer, he wore a big cowboy hat and had his shirt halfway unbuttoned. Well, let's just say, boot camp had begun. That training session there were six new tumblers, (I think), one or two new Marions and a couple new Indy's. Thier trainer was Tumbler "O", or as I called him Sargent "O". He ran that bunch of new hires ragged. During training they ran circuits, which consists of climbing the buildings of the market place (scene two sets), running across the tops of the buildings to the Indy high fall, do the high fall and run back to the begining. Between shows they'd learn about throwing punches, the slide for life and three-man pyramids. At one point in time when the Indy high fall wasn't high enough, they went all the way to the roof of the stage and jumped out of the rafters. Absolutely, utterly insane. One day, in the greenroom, they were watching a home video of someone on fire. Only at EPIC does that not seem wierd. That week end one of stunt captians had an unofficial training session at his home on how to do fire stunts.
By the way, the high school football star stuck around for a three four years, then moved to L.A. and became Toby Maguier's stunt double in Spiderman. Not bad, eh. I found an interview with him on You Yube http://www.anthonyplascencia.com/video/stuntman.html Another rags to riches story has to do with a guy who started in costuming. He went to the casting center and told them he wanted to be in costuming at Epic. They tried to taking him out of it. He insisted. His goal was to see what it took to get cast in the show from the inside out. He auditioned, but didn't make it. He auditioned again. He still didn't make it. In between auditions the Indy's would work with him on what he needed to improve for the next time. I believe it took four or five times before he got cast. Once he broke through, he was contracted as a primary Indy stunt double for a while, then he moved to L.A. Long story short, he landed work on a Tim Allen movie as his stunt double. Now, he's Mr. Allen's primary stunt double.
The tell tale signs of an Indy in training: knee pads, elbow pads, butt pads, brand new timberline boots all while wearing eye protection and the leather jacket in 90 degree Florida summers, just so you can learn that dam whip routine. Oh, yeah, throw in a few character performers running for thier lives because they're afraid of being accidently hit by the thing on thier way to the parade trailer.
There are plenty of more EPIC stories to come, so come back and check it out.
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