They had transformed the plaza into an open-air market with booths displaying a variety of wares. It was a major production today; they’d hired hundreds of extras. This was where Laurent was supposed to shine. He’d done an adaption of William Shakespeare’s tragedy
The premise for today’s scene was that Rick was suspected of having stolen documents from a Cuban official’s home. He was in the process of trying to give those documents to MI6 and the CIA. The Cubans and Russians would do anything to prevent this because it would uncover their plans to place nuclear missiles within striking distance of the US. There was a manhunt to find Rick that involved both Cuban police and Russian KGB.
This was the climactic end of my character. Rick was chased into the plaza, then handed off the documents and was told to make for the port. He’d been signed on as a crew member of a tramp steamer headed to South America and then to Africa before returning to Europe. The plan was that by the time he arrived back in Europe, the heat would be off and he’d be safe.
Unfortunately, Rick was spotted. He attempted to use the crowd to lose his pursuers. When he thought he was safe, he made a run for it, only to find a Russian had blocked his escape. Rick was shot. This gave the good guys their chance to leave the plaza with the stolen documents.
Laurent was being a dick, as usual. We ran through a number of scenes leading up to the ending, and we had to shoot each of them multiple times. He wanted to get different camera angles to help build the suspense. The day had been ramping up to the final dash across the plaza.
“Places, everyone! This is it!” Laurent yelled to get everyone’s attention, and then he looked at me. “Don’t screw this up.”
I ignored his jab and got ready. The shot was being filmed from three angles. One was a long shot that showed the whole plaza; the second was from above and behind; and the final one was tighter: it was head-on as I burst out of the crowd. The Russian would step forward, come into the frame on the side, and then would shoot me.
Being tall, I had to duck down so I didn’t stand out in the crowd.
“Action!”
From up high, you could see me force my way through the crowd. In my wake were three Cuban police officers. I pushed into the clear and ran for freedom. A big man in tourist clothes turned and stepped towards me. I looked back, and the police had just come out of the crowd and shouted for me to stop. As I turned forward again, the Russian raised his arm with what looked like a cannon. I skidded to a stop, and that was when I heard the shot.
In the plaza, the sound rang off the walls of the surrounding buildings. The crowd reacted as one as screams erupted and people tried to get away. I looked down, and blood had spurted from the center of my chest as I slumped to the ground. The Russian took two steps towards me and shot me again. This time I collapsed on the ground. The camera closest to me came forward and tilted down to capture a close-up of my body while blood pooled around it. My lifeless eyes stared at the perfect blue sky.
“Cut!”
Laurent, Kitty, and Roger all walked over to where they could watch the playback. I assumed they were done with me, so I got up. The special-effects guys had me take off my shirt so they could remove the blood packs. I was covered in stage blood, which required a shower to get off.
When I came back, I found everyone yelling at each other. The stunt coordinator was livid.
“I won’t be a part of it. What you want to do is too dangerous. Without my sign-off, you won’t have any insurance coverage, and they will shut this movie down,” he threatened.
Roger, the producer, and Kitty, the assistant director, both looked worried. But Bob, the studio watchdog, didn’t seem concerned at all.
“I’m the director, and I don’t think the last scene worked. It needs more drama. The kill shot has to be up close and personal,” Laurent said.
“You can’t use that gun to take the shot, then. David would be seriously hurt if you stick the gun against his head and pull the trigger,” the stunt coordinator said.
“There is no way I’m doing that,” I said, stepping forward.
Gun safety had been hammered into me when I learned to shoot guns for
“Oh, dear God! I didn’t want you from the beginning. I knew that when I needed you for a serious scene, I couldn’t count on you. You just don’t have the experience a role like this needs. I’ve had to hold your hand the whole way, and that has hurt the movie, if you ask me. I’ll never allow them to dictate who will play key roles in one of my films ever again.
