LEVERAGE: day zero

Posted on By Wil

Greetings from Portland! I'm here for the next few days to work on an episode of Leverage, playing a character who I have a few things in common with, as evidenced by something that happened earlier today during my costume fitting.

The costume designer is an incredibly kind and easy going woman. She was talking with me about who this character is, what he's like, and how those things would influence his decisions when it comes to his clothes. I was glad to have the discussion, because the clothes I wear for a show are very important to
me. I always work hard to find something that is appropriate for
the character, but that I'll also feel comfortable wearing.

She pulled a bunch of different shirts and things off the racks, and said, "So we thought we'd dress you like a nerd." She didn't say it unkindly, it was just matter of fact, the way you'd say, "You know, I think fish would be nice tonight."

I looked at the clothes she had in her hands: straight-legged jeans, slip-on Vans, a short-sleeved shirt with a collar and buttons.

"So, kind of like what I'm already wearing," I said.

We had a good laugh about that, and for the next few minutes I tried on a bunch of different costumes, all of which could have come out of my own wardrobe.

When my fitting was over, I got to visit with John Rogers and Dean Devlin for a little bit. I should probably get their permission before I blog about our conversation, but I think it's okay to say this: I haven't seen Dean since we played hockey together about 17 years ago, and it's pretty awesome to finally be working together on something.

They had to go do producer-y things, so I walked into the stage to meet with the prop department. On my way in, I stopped and introduced myself to Christian Kane (Spencer) and Aldis Hodge (Hardison), who were hanging out just inside the stage door.

Um, I need to just get this out of the way now: Leverage is the first non-animated show I've worked on in years where I'm such a huge fan, I've already watched every episode and know all the characters. It was a challenge, but I did a good job of not losing my shit while I talked with them, just like I did when I met Beth Riesgraf (Parker) right before I went into the wardrobe fitting. We only talked for a few minutes before I had to get out of the stage and do some prop stuff, but I liked them right away. I left the stage feeling pretty confident that I'm going to have a great time while I'm here.

Now I'm going to go learn my lines and prepare for filming tomorrow.

… I'm not going to lie to you, Marge: I love this.

an all too familiar scene

Posted on By Wil

Sitting in my office, my brain is in that weird writer’s fugue where time blurs and I take -10 to all my passive perception checks. I realize that my dog, who has spent much of the day at my feet, doing everything she can to capture my attention, isn’t there. I’m not sure how long it’s been since I last saw her; it could be a minute, it could be thirty minutes.

I push back from my desk and walk out the open doorway into the hall.

“Ferris?” I call out.

I listen. Nothing.

“Ferris?” I walk to the end of the hallway. From out in the yard, I hear the familiar jingle of her tag against her collar.

I walk across the house and toward the patio. Just before I get to the door that goes into the back yard, I see Riley. She’s lying down as low as she can, watching me. The tip of her tail barely wags. I’ve seen this before; it’s what she does when she is establishing an alibi. If she could talk, she would say, “Just so you know, I’ve been here all along.”

I quicken my pace and into the back yard. “Ferris!” The jingling stops, but I still don’t see my dog.

I’m pretty much speed walking at this point as I cross the back yard. I know she’s gotten into something, but what? We’ve had a lot of construction recently, and though I do my best to make sure anything that kills dogs isn’t in a place where she can get it, I remain paranoid.

I make it across the yard. As I pass the Chinese elm, my brain reminds me that I need to have it trimmed – it’s weird, the things your brain spits out at you in times of potential crisis – and around the corner of the house.

I see her before she sees me. She’s dragged a huge black trash bag off the tops of our cans and taken it to that spot in the yard where she takes everything she wants to chew on. Over the years, it’s been a graveyard for shoes, toys, loaves of bread we didn’t put far enough back on the counter.

I take a breath and use my deepest, growliest, angriest, you-are-in-so-much-fucking-trouble Dad Voice: “FERRIS!”

She flinches, drops the bag, and slinks toward me, head down, submissive.

“Dammit, Ferris. This is not for you.” I walk past her and pick up the bag. It’s full of rags and rolled up plastic. It smells like paint. I’m glad I caught her before she could really tear into it.

I find the top of the bag and cinch it closed, making sure I don’t get paint on my hands.

“Really? Paint? I can understand disgusting old food, cat shit, and all the kleenex and Q-tips you drag out of the trash cans, but paint?”

She looks at me, slowly lifting her head up, perking up her ears as I talk. By the time I finish and pick up the bag, she’s wagging her tail and smiling at me.

I walk past her with the bag, on my way to stuff it inside the trash cans that she can not open. Yet.

She trots alongside me, and sniffs at the bag. She looks at me, expectantly, tail wagging faster and faster as we get closer to the trash cans.

If she could talk, she would say, “Hey, can I have that? It looks like it would be fun to tear apart.”

I shake my head and stuff it into the can.

“No, Ferris. No you can not.”

from the vault: meet me around back in five, buddy

Posted on By Wil

All of my writing energy and creative motivation continues to pour into finishing Memories of the Future, and Mystery Project X, so I'm reaching into the vault for something fun today. This is many years old, so the style makes me cringe a lot, but the content makes me smile a lot more, so lower your expectations and enjoy a trip down memory lane…

meet me around back in five, buddy

Am I the only person who was crestfallen upon finding out that the voice of KITT was not, in fact, the voice of the car, but was, in truth, the voice of actor William Daniels?

(Fun fact: When I was on the board at SAG, Bill was president, and I frequently told Anne that I was "going into a meeting with KITT." She often replied, "in his office? Or did you talk into your watch and tell him to meet you around back in five?")

Back in the day, at Universal Studios, they had a KITT car on display for all the tourists to check out. You could sit in KITT, have your picture taken, and (this was the best part) ask KITT a question that would be answered by none other than KITT HIMSELF!

Most of the people would ask questions about the show, like "what did you do in episode [whatever]?", and all sorts of technical questions about the specifics of his design, like they wanted to stump KITT, or something. BAH! AS IF YOU COULD STUMP KITT. Stupid tourists.

Anyway, I once waited in line for a very long time to talk to KITT. I so badly wanted to get into the car, and say, "Hey, KITT, I was wondering, do you ever cut loose when the people go home? I mean, tell me the truth. You can kick the shit out of the A-Team Van, right? Do you ever just head on over to the backlot and do donuts, just because you can? You know, just to show off?"

It would have been awesome, and my fellow KITT pilgrims who were lucky enough to be around to hear it would have talked about it for decades as it slowly became legend … but I totally chickened out. When I sat in KITT's driver's seat, I panicked and lamely asked, "What's your top speed, KITT?"

The sad thing is, I can't even remember what the answer was.

I got it into my head a few months ago that I should watch some episodes of Knight Rider and CHiPs and A-Team. I guess part of me wanted to see if they held up, but a bigger part of me just wanted to remember what it was like to be ten years old and watching those shows on a giant 26 inch television set from the floor of our den in Sunland.

In their own way, I think they do hold up, but even if they hadn't, I think it would have been time well spent.