ADVENTURES ON THE JUNEAU ICEFIELD ( PART TWO )

Now...

and then...

         

    
              In early January l981 Production Designer John Lloyd, tasked with the idea of finding a suitable location to serve as Antarctica somewhere in the Northern Hemisphere for THE THING, had a problem. Long range weather forecasts were unanimous in predicting lighter than average snowfall in the United States. He had taken an early look at possible sites in Utah, Colorado, and Montana ( including the original Glacier National Park location of THE THING FROM ANOTHER WORLD ) but without a guarantee of adequate snow in time for filming that December it seemed useless to pursue any idea close to home. This fact lead Lloyd to pursue leads further and further north until it only made sense to land in Stewart, B.C., the snowfall capital of the world...

                   As spectacular a solution to our problems as Stewart was ( 24/7 access to the set by mining road, accommodations reasonably nearby ), the one thing it didn't offer was a concrete sense of  scale - the immense ocean of ice effect that pushes man and beast alike into insignificance. Luckily, there was a place around that would fill the bill nicely. if  we could figure out a way to film it... 

Dr. Maynard Miller conducting his "classroom" on the Juneau Icefield

                That we were able to film the opening sequence of THE THING on the Juneau Icefield at all was entirely due to the forbearance and wisdom of Dr. Maynard Miller who, beginning in 1946, established The Juneau Icefield Research Program at the University of Idaho which allowed participants supervised access to the site ( and indeed still does, to this day ). John Lloyd had gotten wind of the program and learned that they maintained several small "research stations" with rudimentary accommodations, whose existence was the key to successfully putting a small filming company on the ice for several weeks. Our initial scout of the location in January, 1981 resulted in our not being able to land due to deep recent snow - we ended up just hovering above one of the shacks which was completely snowed in up to the roof line. But what we saw in those few minutes - the camp was located at the top of a rocky promontory with the Taku Glacier spread out below - was enough to convince us that we had to figure out a way to make this place serve as the opening of the film...

Our Home Base - Camp 10 "The Nunatak Chalet"

                In mid March, 1981 John Lloyd and I spent a pleasant afternoon with Dr. Miller at his home in Idaho. After laying out what we had in mind ( a small crew of Fifteen to be flown in by helicopter to film the opening and assorted tie in shots, staying at the camp for a week and a half or so ), Dr. Miller agreed to the basic idea but saw a number of problems. Foremost was the weather - the only possible month for filming would be June, and even then, he promised, we needed to be prepared for storms and "whiteout" conditions that could last for days, which would hamper filming, isolate the crew, and also affect getting off the Icefield and back down to Juneau. Be sure to plan for and expect delays, he admonished. But if we were willing he was game, and would join us to advise, help negotiate the terrain and try to keep us out of trouble. An added bonus - to keep things all in the family his wife also kindly agreed to come and cook ( for all of this we made sure the Millers were properly compensated, and also made a sizable donation to The Icefield Research Program at the University )...

                     Dr. Miller would also function as the camps' "communications officer". This was no small thing in those pre-cellular days. Participants in the Icefield program now regularly blog and post photographs and data daily, but then our only form of communication with the outside world would be by CB radio.We planned to send the film down the mountain for processing by helicopter regularly, weather permitting, but considered it logistically impossible to attempt to have it sent back up to us in a timely way for viewing via videocassette. Not only would  we not be able to watch the dailies ourselves John would not be able to speak directly with anyone at Universal about their reaction to the rushes - for that crucial information we would be dependent on a number of ham radio operators stationed up and down the West Coast to pass what we hoped would be the good word along to us... 

               

Assistant Cameraman Clyde Bryan in foreground

                A spectacular sunny day in Juneau greeted our arrival to film in early June, 1981. Heading up to the Icefield in helicopters we anticipated a leisurely time unpacking and settling in. Not to be. Dr. Miller advised us the weather was about to change - better take advantage of what we had and head out right now...

            To put it mildly, effects of filming at 5000 feet on a group of out of shape inveterate cigarette smokers fresh up from Los Angeles took their toll. Movement was hard, seemingly taking place in slow motion. For ground level shots there was no take 2. Each setup was new, requiring the camera to be constantly repositioned in order to avoid footprints across the virgin snow scape - both ours and the dog's. Simple tasks like the application of decals to the helicopter to determine its identity ( Norwegian or American ) seemed almost beyond our numbed grasp, and seemed to take forever. Oh, well. John had a good feeling about what little film he was shooting, and tomorrow, with extended daylight hours at our disposal...

             We awoke the next morning to thick fog, effectively grounding us for most of the day. This would become the "new norm" for the remainder of the shoot - the weather would suddenly improve, allowing for an hour or two of hit and miss filming, and then close back down again until ? The uncertainty of the situation, despite being forewarned, was driving everybody crazy ( with the exception of Jed, who was having the time of his life ). There ought to have been some romance in the notion that we were stranded in one of the most exotic locations in the world, but the cramped quarters, the idea of not being able to see five feet in front of your face, and the omnipresent stillness together felt oppressive. Parallels with the plight of our fictional counterparts in THE THING did not go unnoticed. Someone joked to John that the extended down time would qualify as field research into the effects of isolation and boredom. John, who was frustrated by the delays and just wanted to get on with the work and get out of there, didn't seem particularly amused. The filming proceeded piecemeal, grabbing a shot here and there when we could... 
                         

                  In a scene reminiscent of the final tableau in THE THING FROM ANOTHER WORLD we huddled around the CB radio to receive the verdict on the inaugural batch of dailies. We couldn't hear what was being said - we knew information was being passed from ham radio operator to ham radio operator up the West Coast, and were hopeful that nothing got scrambled. Dr. Miller began scribbling on the pad in front of him. The first word:

                                                                                             RE- SHOOT 

               Exactly what we didn't want to see. Dr. Miller began writing down scene numbers - 108, 108x, 109 ect, about twenty in all - virtually the complete inventory from the first two days of filming. We were thunderstruck. The problem, as relayed to us, was a spot on the lens that John's editor, Todd Ramsay, thought was too distracting and that infected all of the ground level footage shot of Jed being pursued. Knowing how difficult filming had been John was loathe to scrap what amounted to the first several days work without having an idea exactly how distracting the offending spot was, but, unable to view the dailies himself, was flying blind - dependent on one person's indirect word...

                We considered sending John down by helicopter to Juneau to have a conversation by phone, but the weather as usual was not co-operating. We finally decided we needed at least one other person whose judgement we respected to weigh in, so I suggested that we have Verna Fields, Universal Vice President and ace editor of JAWS and AMERICAN GRAFFITI, look at the film ASAP and render a verdict. The only question John wanted answered: was there any way we could we live with the problem? Dr. Miller relayed the word down the coast, and we waited... 

                    ... a few hours later, the considered judgment came back: Yes - no need to re-shoot. Good news this, for the weather seemed to be getting worse - Dr. Miller had gotten word about an extended storm front that he felt was capable of grounding the helicopters for a week or so and make travel off the Icefield impossible, except on foot. Best to try and finish up quickly ( the object of every one's concern was a grayish elliptical dot in the lower right third of the frame that can be faintly seen from the ground during the chase in the original release prints as well as early laser disc issues - it seems to have been scrubbed clean in the film's recent digital incarnation ).

              Being the most expendable member of the filming company during the next, brief break in the weather I made a run for it and escorted the  largest batch of film down to Los Angeles for processing. I was able to relay word up the coast early the next morning to the company that everything looked fine   ( not just fine, actually - the footage was spectacular ) - the signal to get off the Icefield before the next wave of storms and head home...

              




                 THE FLIGHT FROM HELL






               If you want to know what truly, deeply, strikes fear into the heart of John Carpenter sidle up to him sometime and quietly speak the two words  "Grauman Goose" and watch him recoil in spasms of terror...

The "Goose"

               After scouting Stewart, B.C. one Friday afternoon, in a hurry to catch our flight in Ketchican, Alaska down the coast to Los Angeles in time for the weekend, we arranged to charter a WW II era seaplane, the famed "Grauman Goose" for the short 10 minute trip. John was seated in front with the pilot, Larry Franco and myself in the back. Taxiing out onto the open waterway we contented ourselves with thoughts of a semi-relaxing weekend when we heard a huge CRASH, the plane shuddering, turning sideways and coming to a stop...

               We had collided with another seaplane. Bobbing up and down on the water, we looked out the hatch and saw one wing cutting into the other, forming a large v shaped wedge. One of the propellers seemed bent, but I guess we considered ourselves lucky that there wasn't an explosion ( I envisioned the propeller cutting through the cabin a la THE CROWDED SKY). After the two pilots spent a few minutes yelling at each other they pulled out canoe paddles and pushed the planes apart. We began to limp back to the dock. Ah, hell - with the plane obviously out of commission we were going to miss our connection, have to spend the week-end in Stewart, and... 

                 ...with a tremendous ROAR the pilot guns the engines and we begin to pick up speed - we are attempting to take off after all. John turns to look at Larry and myself, eyes wide with a "what the fuck" look, and then, saying nothing, turns back to stare straight ahead. Larry and I look at each other, and then as one out the window. The V shaped indentation is still there, and we can see the wing wildly vibrating - the engine with the bent propeller is also making some sort of a gurgling noise, and appears to be streaming oil. But up we go...

                  ... and then followed the longest eight or nine minutes of our young lives, Not a word was spoken - we all knew we were about to die. At one point I looked down and saw the airport runway almost directly beneath us. What's the pilot trying to do, circle, and ?... No.We drop out of the sky into a steep, nearly vertical dive, the engines screaming, like something out of a Chuck Jones cartoon. I envision the wings ripping off one-by-one as the pilot pulls out at the final second, at last touching earth...

                John, his face a whiter shade of pale, exits quickly and without breaking stride makes it into the airport bar, still not speaking until the first beer was gone. And then : "Oh, My Lord..."

                 The flight, however, did supply something of a bond between the three of us - whenever things got particularly dire on the movie, one of us would look at the other and solemnly invoke  "The Goose" - a sure sign that things could be worse...

Larry Franco pondering the aftereffects of a ride on "The Goose"

          FILMAKING 480 - THE BLUE BARREL


                 The question: how to "tie in" two disparate locations shot six months apart and make them seem as one? The answer: a single prop, one blue oil barrel taken with us to the Juneau Icefield and used by John to signal the approach of civilization...

Filmed on the Juneau Ice Field June, 1981

   

The next shot: filmed in Stewart B. C. December, 1981

                 A graceful, seamless transition from the Icefield to the friendlier confines of Outpost 31....             




               ANOTHER CAMEO APPEARANCE ?

                  Put this under the heading of informed speculation : The approach to the spaceship was shot on the Ice Field using doubles, with crew members dutifully filling in...

                I am reasonably sure the Palmer figure is special effects co - ordinator Roy Arbogast.The Norris figure is either prop master John Zemansky or Jed's trainer Clint Rowe. But when I looked at the shot recently I was struck by something very familiar in the body language and walk used by the crew member playing MacCready, and I think there is an excellent chance it's John himself  - I remember him trying the hat and jacket on in front of a mirror in the wardrobe department when in the process of deciding what to bring ( Kurt had not been cast at the time ), and I think he was the most natural fit for the job...             

TALES FROM UNIVERSAL'S CRYPT ( PART ONE )

                   At one point during production on THE THING John Carpenter was approached by legendary Universal Studio Producer, Executive, and Impresario Jennings Lang to see if he could come up with an idea for a movie to go along with a new "gimmick" Lang  was very excited about.

              Lang had recently been involved with the introduction of SENSURROUND, which created a massive low end bass rumble to go along with its debut motion picture EARTHQUAKE. I remember, as this film was initially mixed at the sound department and the bugs worked out, the premises regularly being evacuated by scared looking employees - the building literally felt as if shook itself apart right down to the foundation, an uncomfortable feeling for those living in Southern California who had experienced the real thing. Things usually abruptly subsided as one or more of the massive woofers were blown halfway across the mixing stage floor... 

Director Mark Robson and Jennings Lang on the set of EARTHQUAKE

               The new companion process Lang was developing was called LIGHTSURROUND, and was being designed to simulate the visual effects of a full scale thunderstorm including lightning. With the film ideally in 3D, he explained, the physical apparatus in the theatre would consist of two elements : (1)  a large, silver metallic ball suspended from the roof at the center that would rotate on cue, splaying bright light around the theatre and, most importantly, (2 ) a machine positioned in the projection booth that on cue would shoot a real bolt of lightning directly over the audience's head and onto a graphite "dot" located in the center of the screen. Exciting stuff this, he said, but he didn't have a story to go along with any of it - he wanted to get something underway quickly, wasn't interested in science fiction, or anything too horrific - did John have any ideas?

           Asked by John afterward for my thoughts, all I could come up with was some sort of John D. McDonald-esque murder mystery set in the Florida Keys during a hurricane...
    

                     ... but we didn't get much of a chance to flesh any of this out. Word came back from testing in the field that the lightening bolt itself was a little unreliable - seems that it would hit the dot on the screen most of the time, but would occasionally veer off short of its target and strike the nearest metal object - a seat back, an audience members wire rim glasses, say... despite the creator's assurance that he would work to make the process 100 % reliable, Lang reluctantly consigned the idea to the dustbin of motion picture history... 

COULD THIS MAN PLAY PALMER ?

Rob coming out of THE FOG, 1980

                       Having had a taste of  The Roar Of The Greasepaint by appearing as an actor in front of the camera on THE FOG, Rob Bottin initially made a concerted pitch to John Carpenter and myself to play Palmer in THE THING. We were surprised by his request ( when John first mentioned it to me I thought he was kidding ), and skeptical of his ability to pull it off - he already had the massive responsibility of the effects work heaped on his twenty two year old shoulders, much of which was scheduled to be shot with the principal actors. Undaunted, he told me he was deadly serious about playing the role and would take acting classes if need be, but as pre - production rapidly advanced it was clear to all that it was an impossible idea to pursue ( I don't recall whether Rob actually read for the role, but I remember him lobbying hard for the chance )...

              

                  I was the custom then ( and, indeed, now ) for studio casting departments to pay very close attention to up and coming comedians performing at nightclubs around Hollywood, with assistants dispatched nightly to monitor the proceedings at watering holes like THE IMPROVISATION. When THE THING first crossed the desks of executives at Universal they wondered whether, given the roles' comedic potential, it would be advantageous to consider one of the best and the brightest for the role of Palmer...

Charles Fleischer

Jay Leno

Gary Shandling

                  Jay Leno met and read for us. A recent film of his, AMERICAN HOT WAX, was screened. Gary Shandling and Charles Fleisher ( later to become the voice of ROGER RABBIT ) also met, among others, but the concern always was whether they had the dramatic "chops" in order to pull the entire role off...       

                   A veteran casting director, Lynn Stalmaster, had given me a great early piece of advice -  "When in doubt, always go for the actor" - which is just what we did with David Clennon. David had recently appeared in MISSING, the Costa-Gavras film for Universal, and was one of the first actors in the door - an early and enthusiastic selection by John and ourselves, and one we certainly never regretted...

THE CAST AND CREW SCREENING

The original program given to invited guests on June 11, 1982 

           
             
               THE THING cast and crew screening was held thirty years ago tonight on the evening of June 11, 1982. We had some trouble finalising the date. Universal's largest showcase, the Alfred Hitchcock Theatre, was then in nightly use trying to accommodate the turn away throngs of invited guests to E.T. THE EXTRATERRESTRIAL ( which also opened theatrically this night amid reports of record-breaking box office ), but for one evening they agreed to relinquish their hold and moved to three smaller screening rooms nearby ( the same rooms where we had tested the alternate ending for THE THING several weeks earlier ).


               John, in Tennessee for pre-production on FIRESTARTER, could not attend. Many of our mutual friends and colleagues did , as well as large contingents of Rob's special effects crew and David Yewdall's sound effects team. One of the six 70mm prints made for release was pressed into service for the first time...

... and the back

                   While the screening was taking place I did what producers are supposed to do, pace the lobby and walk aimlessly around the studio - this night it was easy to sense an electricity in the air, some sort of palpable energy, but it was not directed at us - the buzz on the lot among the night shift, the studio gate guards, our own assistants, the publicity people assigned to work our screening was all about E.T. and the expectation that it would become the highest grossing film of all time. Word had spread that wherever it was playing showings of the film were sold out for the entire day - an unheard of proposition in an era before online ticket ordering and reservations - and that people were standing in massive lines for five or six hours. In this giddy, increasingly celebratory atmosphere it was almost as if  THE THING was an afterthought, the screening taking place in a near vacuum of anonymity, something already discounted and consigned to oblivion. I smiled as I thought of the film in terms of a poor relation...

               The most enthusiastic response to the film that night came from the loyalists - Rob Bottin's gang loved it, as well they should, and thought it fairly represented the year of punishing work they had put into it. They were the rock stars of the evening, the execution of the effects universally praised by everyone. Ditto, acclaim for the sound effects team and their impeccable performance.
  
               The reaction elsewhere was decidedly mixed - strong differences of opinion seemed to break down along generational lines. I was confronted in the lobby afterward by a visibly angry Albert Whitlock, who thought the film was unnecessarily weighted toward gore and violence at the expense of almost everything else - he said his wife had to leave the theatre during the kennel scene and chose not to return. He found much of the film offensive, the first time I had heard this word used by someone closely connected with us to describe this movie...

                  Kurt Russell had seen THE THING several weeks earlier. I was the first person he spoke to when he left the screening ( John was in Tennessee ). His initial reaction was not positive, believing that much of the hard work, the relationship work done by the actors from rehearsal on was left on the cutting room floor in favor of what he called the "ick" factor. I think it is fair to say that most of the cast who saw the film this night felt the same way. There was general agreement that Rob's work was superb but maybe too good in that it overwhelmed the film and reduced them all to "pawns" as one put it  ( I think thirty years intervening time has notably changed and softened their view as it has at the same time increasingly validated John's decision-making ).


              The reaction among friends was more positive, but scarcely the ringing endorsement we had hoped for. Most thought the film powerful, but at the same time too dark and depressing - as one put it, John "had taken things one step too far". Several said the THE THING was unpleasant to sit through, something to be endured  rather than watched, not words one cares to hear describe the film two weeks before release. But the dominant storyline of the night was typified by the reaction of a close professional colleague, a producer of note, who came up to me with a "what can you do" expression on his face, shrugged with his palms up and said " Well, it isn't E.T."


                As if on cue, the three smaller screening rooms to our left opened up, ejecting a small sea of smiling, happy people, standing in marked contrast to our rapidly diminishing group of supporters. I was envious - it seemed we were caught in the wake of a phenomenon we hadn't counted on and were faring the poorer for it. Oh well, the great majority of reviews ( mostly print ) were yet to come - maybe they would see the light and help turn the tide... 

THE SOUND

                    Thirty years ago this week THE THING began it's final sound mix at what was then the best facility in Hollywood, Samuel Goldwyn Studio's Stage A. Having won the most recent Academy Award for RAIDERS OF THE LOST ARK the room was constantly in demand, the chief reason being the talent being brought to the table by the late Bill Varney  and his capable associates Steve Maslow and Gregg Landaker.

L to R: Bill Varney, Steve Maslow, and Gregg Landaker with their  Academy Awards for THE EMPIRE STRIKES BACK

                     John had previously mixed ESCAPE FROM NEW YORK with the men and thoroughly enjoyed the experience. We were scheduled for a full six weeks ( time was needed to make six track stereo masters for the 70mm prints, two track Dolby stereo masters for regular release as well as separate monaural masters for theatres not equipped for stereo, as was the custom then ) after the crew completed work on POLTERGEIST ( which, as it happened, was of interest to us - we held hopes that the audience that went to see POLTERGEIST might come to see THE THING a month later )...

                  Initially Universal made a concerted pitch to have us stay at the studio ( having recently upgraded their facilities and built the brand new Alfred Hitchcock Theatre), and have the film mixed in something called "Ultra-Stereo" as they planned to do with one of their other signature summer attractions, THE BEST LITTLE WHOREHOUSE IN TEXAS. It certainly would have been easier to stay on the lot with all that was going on ( Rob's effects work was still in full swing, his operation a few minutes away ), but we made the case that it wasn't the equipment that made the difference, it was the skill and the instinct of the men who were utilizing it...

                   Our approach to monster sound - making was essentially the same as the method pioneered by the legendary sound engineer Murray Spivak on KING KONG - combining organic (animal) sounds, changing pitch, slowing them down, speeding them up, thinning, sharpening, running them backwards and anything else we could think of until we ended up with something we liked and seemed to fit - really, a process of sound shaping, of trial and error...

                     Work on this aspect began just after principal photography commenced, shepherded by David Lewis Yewdall and Colin Mouat. Originally the search was on for a signature sound for the monster, one you would have heard initially on the audiotape recording Copper finds at the Norwegian Camp, and again later. This concept was abandoned as we moved from the notion of the creature as one final form entity to the deconstructionist idea it could be anything, which certainly opened up avenues for audio experimentation. As John began editing the film these experiments were salted in to see if we were headed in the right direction, and were fully fleshed out on the mixing stage, with it's array of sophisticated processing equipment ( all analog ), some eight months later...

                          I wish I could recount with specificity exactly what went into, and in what proportion, the making of each individual sequence, but the fact is memory fails me. I do know that were looking for a sort of high pitched, painful, shrill sound for the introduction of the dog - thing which called for the extensive use of bird calls and and a pig squeal, all heavily processed. In the Blair Monster we were looking for a large, definitive, square sound and you certainly hear a great deal of lion ( and for those of you who find some similarity with KING KONG's final roar, you are correct - it was our tip of the hat)...

                     Benning's roar was created by custom recording human screams  and then have them individually synthesized by a gentleman named Craig Harris. These were later combined on the mixing stage with other, non human sounds and additionally processed to give you that haunting, forever lost in hell effect. You also hear the result of this particular processing in the off-stage, human sounding screams at the beginning of the kennel sequence, as well as during the Norris transformation...

                    Wherever possible, a special effort was made to custom record background tracks on location during breaks in filming. Many of the wind tracks heard ( including the steady state wind always present at the Norwegian camp ) were made this way. Also specific sounds indigenous to the location - helicopter start-ups, tractor engines idling, flamethrower whooshes etc. Despite the rigors of location filming there was very little dialogue replacement  done - less a dozen lines in all, a tribute to our production sound mixer, Thomas Causey... 

                      When we played back the completed kennel sequence for the first time we looked at each other and shrugged. There was something missing - despite all the meticulous work the scene fell flat. Our salvation lay in a track our music editor, Clif Kholweck, found at the last minute. The low drone sound that begins as MacCready and Co. slowly approach is a sound effect, actually background air conditioner hum sharpened, shaped, and eventually pushed to absurd levels ( the reveal of the dog - thing ) before being taken out on the first shotgun blast. But what the hell, it worked, and the scene came alive... 

                     This sound proved to be so effective we went back and added it to Clark's initial approach and confrontation to the kennel...

                       ... as well as MacCready's final confrontation with the Blair monster ( the sound begins as Mac drops the dynamite and is woven in and out until the first explosion ). Astute listeners will also hear part of Morricone's plucked-string cue "Contamination" thrown in for good measure...

                     My favorite sound effects story from THE THING is as follows... I asked one of the sound editors, Colin Mouat, how they came up with the ultra - realistic background sounds of the dogs howling in the kennel. He replied that he had his children gather together the neighborhood dogs on a Saturday morning, put them inside his house, turned on the recorder, left, and donned a hat and full trench coat. Pulling up the collar to hide his face, he then proceeded to furtively move around the house, tapping on windows and rattling doorknobs. The resultant hysteria is what you now hear ( I was assured the dogs were amply rewarded with waiting treats )...

Bill Varney

                 THE THING never sounded better than in Stage A, and it was for that reason we chose to have the first screening of the completed film there for Universal's President Ned Tannen. A crucial event, we invited a few close friends and relatives to help fill out the space. Ned was shown to the center seat in front of the mixing console, the sonic "sweet spot". The memory I will always carry with me was Bill Varney sitting at the controls,  watching the production executive sitting directly in front of him, and constantly making minute level changes in reaction to Ned's body language throughout the movie -  in essence providing him with his own custom mix in an effort to put our absolute best foot forward, the very definition of a professional at work...

CASTING GARRY AND COPPER

Lee Van Cleef

Jerry Ohrbach

Kevin Conway

Lee Van Cleef was an initial consideration, having just worked with John on ESCAPE FROM NEW YORK. Jerry Ohrbach was thought highly of on the strength of his recent work in PRINCE OF THE CITY. Kevin Conway came in to meet and read the part beautifully... 

Richard Mulligan

Powers Boothe

Richard Mulligan was a surprise submission from his agency at the time. He had gotten hold of a script and thought the role would be a great change of pace from his current work on the T.V. series SOAP ( not unsurprisingly, we also gave some thought to the idea of his playing Palmer ). Powers Boothe was mentioned as we kicked around the idea of playing the role younger, in an age range more contemporaneous to Macs...

Michael Ploog's original storyboard for Garry's death...

...and a literal definition of " hands on ". That's Rob Bottin's hand in the shot...

William Daniels

Brian Dennehy

             From my woefully incomplete notes : veteran actor William Daniels was submitted for the role  but it was Brian Dennehy who came within a whisker of playing Dr. Copper - a last second, back and forth decision made by John in favor of Richard Dysart ( I am somewhat surprised in retrospect that Brian didn't end up somewhere in this movie - he was considered for a number of roles, and we both liked him a lot...)