Read Online Final Cut by Franklin W. Dixon - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Franklin W. Dixon
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would be captured, except for the character played by Jim Addison, who'd escape.
Frank and Joe had walkie-talkies. They were stationed on a sidewalk just off camera. They had to keep any passersby or curious onlookers from wandering into a shot. Hector Ellerby had actually spent a whole minute with them giving them instructions.
"Remember, guys, this kind of scene, with a lot of extras and guns and stunts and cars and fightings, costs a bundle of money. And if we have to reshoot any of it because some civilian gets in front of the camera, then it'll cost two bundles. "So watch the walkers and gawkers, and don't fall asleep, okay? I'm counting on you guys."
"We'll stay awake," Frank replied.
"You can trust us," said Joe.
There had been no further word from the Bayport police about Sam Freed. He was still at large. But neither of the Hardys was especially worried about his showing up on location.
"Maybe he's left town," Joe suggested hopefully but not really believing it.
Before any actual shooting, there were several rehearsals. Police cars raced up, cops spilled out, and heavy gunfire erupted between cops and robbers.
Everything had to be organized to the last detail among a hundred performers, three cameras in various locations, and all the other crews.
During breaks between rehearsals, Frank and Joe met the special-effects wizard, Max. He was a leathery older man in a baseball cap and sat at a big electronic console, where he could set off the small charges that looked like bullets striking targets by remote control.
The Hardys listened as Headcase explained how the actors were supposed to be "shot." They had very light explosive charges taped to their bodies, which were protected by thin protective shields. In some cases, in close-ups, there would also be plastic bags of stage blood designed to burst when the actor was "hit." Other charges had been fastened to walls, to look like bullets smashing into the walls when they were set off by the man at the console.
The special-effects wizard would control all this. But everything had to be carefully planned and gone over again and again, to reduce the possibility of expensive retakes. Ideally scenes like this were shot only once.
Frank and Joe found it all as interesting as did the "civilians," what the crew called everyone not involved in their line of work.
They watched everything from just out of camera range, on the nearby sidewalks.
"Where's Jim Addison?" Joe asked Jerry Morrall at one point.
"Oh, he's not here yet. On a long shot like this, where you can't really see his face, Vic Ritchey can do just as well. Better, maybe."
"How come?" Joe wondered.
Morrall gave one of his ironic smiles. "Well, Ritchey is younger and a little more athletic than Addison, so Addison generally lets Vic do the running around whenever he can. Ritchey really can look amazingly like Jim. Also, it's pretty dull and time-consuming, so Jim would just as soon sit it out." Morrall winked at Joe. "You know what they say, rank has its privileges. First we shoot the whole scene from a distance. What we call the 'master.' And then we start working on reverse angles, point-of- view shots, and close-ups - then Jim'll go to work."
After still more rehearsal, Addison did appear, hopping out of a limo and vanishing into his dressing room trailer. During a break the brothers went to see him and told the actor about Fairburn's old newspaper stories.
"What do you make of it, Jim?" Frank asked. "Does it give you any ideas?"
Addison shook his head - it meant nothing to him. He was too concerned about the scene he had to do to think about anything else.
"Could one of you stick around and go over my lines with me? I'd sure appreciate it."
Just at that moment the Hardys' walkie-talkies crackled, and Trish's voice sounded.
"Frank, Joe, we're about to shoot. Better get to your stations."
"Roger, we copy," said Joe into his mouthpiece. "Sorry, Jim, but we have to hold back the crowds of your
Frank and Joe had walkie-talkies. They were stationed on a sidewalk just off camera. They had to keep any passersby or curious onlookers from wandering into a shot. Hector Ellerby had actually spent a whole minute with them giving them instructions.
"Remember, guys, this kind of scene, with a lot of extras and guns and stunts and cars and fightings, costs a bundle of money. And if we have to reshoot any of it because some civilian gets in front of the camera, then it'll cost two bundles. "So watch the walkers and gawkers, and don't fall asleep, okay? I'm counting on you guys."
"We'll stay awake," Frank replied.
"You can trust us," said Joe.
There had been no further word from the Bayport police about Sam Freed. He was still at large. But neither of the Hardys was especially worried about his showing up on location.
"Maybe he's left town," Joe suggested hopefully but not really believing it.
Before any actual shooting, there were several rehearsals. Police cars raced up, cops spilled out, and heavy gunfire erupted between cops and robbers.
Everything had to be organized to the last detail among a hundred performers, three cameras in various locations, and all the other crews.
During breaks between rehearsals, Frank and Joe met the special-effects wizard, Max. He was a leathery older man in a baseball cap and sat at a big electronic console, where he could set off the small charges that looked like bullets striking targets by remote control.
The Hardys listened as Headcase explained how the actors were supposed to be "shot." They had very light explosive charges taped to their bodies, which were protected by thin protective shields. In some cases, in close-ups, there would also be plastic bags of stage blood designed to burst when the actor was "hit." Other charges had been fastened to walls, to look like bullets smashing into the walls when they were set off by the man at the console.
The special-effects wizard would control all this. But everything had to be carefully planned and gone over again and again, to reduce the possibility of expensive retakes. Ideally scenes like this were shot only once.
Frank and Joe found it all as interesting as did the "civilians," what the crew called everyone not involved in their line of work.
They watched everything from just out of camera range, on the nearby sidewalks.
"Where's Jim Addison?" Joe asked Jerry Morrall at one point.
"Oh, he's not here yet. On a long shot like this, where you can't really see his face, Vic Ritchey can do just as well. Better, maybe."
"How come?" Joe wondered.
Morrall gave one of his ironic smiles. "Well, Ritchey is younger and a little more athletic than Addison, so Addison generally lets Vic do the running around whenever he can. Ritchey really can look amazingly like Jim. Also, it's pretty dull and time-consuming, so Jim would just as soon sit it out." Morrall winked at Joe. "You know what they say, rank has its privileges. First we shoot the whole scene from a distance. What we call the 'master.' And then we start working on reverse angles, point-of- view shots, and close-ups - then Jim'll go to work."
After still more rehearsal, Addison did appear, hopping out of a limo and vanishing into his dressing room trailer. During a break the brothers went to see him and told the actor about Fairburn's old newspaper stories.
"What do you make of it, Jim?" Frank asked. "Does it give you any ideas?"
Addison shook his head - it meant nothing to him. He was too concerned about the scene he had to do to think about anything else.
"Could one of you stick around and go over my lines with me? I'd sure appreciate it."
Just at that moment the Hardys' walkie-talkies crackled, and Trish's voice sounded.
"Frank, Joe, we're about to shoot. Better get to your stations."
"Roger, we copy," said Joe into his mouthpiece. "Sorry, Jim, but we have to hold back the crowds of your
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