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.