Read Online We Don't Need Roads: The Making of the Back to the Future Trilogy by Caseen Gaines - Free Book Online
Authors: Caseen Gaines
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laughing about it after almost three decades. “I disobeyed the rules. They wouldn’t remember that because I never told them I was out of town.”
Some of the actors who worked most closely with Stoltz had a feeling that something was off-kilter within a week of the announcement. Tom Wilson remembers there being an odd atmosphere and uncomfortable buzz around the set in the first few days of 1985. Christopher Lloyd also had a sense that things were not clicking the way they should have been. “I felt for Eric. He was a really good actor,” he says. “Although he was doing the part well, he was not bringing that element of comedy to the screen.”
As surprising as the announcement was, some on the crew had sensed that a big change was forthcoming once shooting resumed after the Christmas holiday. “There were signs, especially the last week or so,” Cundey says. “When we would set up a shot and we would shoot Chris Lloyd’s angle, but we wouldn’t do the reverse on Marty. I’d say, ‘Don’t we need the angle?” andBob would say, ‘No, no, no, let’s not worry about that.’ It didn’t take long for me to see that we were saving our energy for what would come next.”
“I got a phone call from one of the producers—I don’t remember if it was Bob Gale or Neil—basically saying, ‘Larry, don’t change the set from 1955,’” production designer Larry Paull says. “They said they weren’t done with it, there may be some changes, and they couldn’t go into it any further, but I was to stop what I was doing.”
The formal announcement came during the late-night “lunch break,” around 10:30 P.M . After Zemeckis dismissed Stoltz from the set, the cast and crew were assembled. The full production team of the director, Bob Gale, Neil Canton, Kathleen Kennedy, Frank Marshall, and Steven Spielberg were present, an unusual show of force that tipped everyone off that something serious was imminent.
“We have an announcement,” Zemeckis said into his bullhorn. “It’s probably going to be shocking—kind of good news, bad news.” The crowd was starting to grow uneasy, he could tell. “I’ll give you the bad news. We’re going to have to reshoot most of the movie because we’ve changed the cast and there’s going to be a new Marty: Michael J. Fox.”
The director saw the reactions. They weren’t gleeful, per se, but they didn’t seem to be as angry or worried as he had feared. Someone from the crowd shouted, “That’s certainly not the bad news!”
“Okay, well, then that’s the good news. I guess the other good news is that we’re going to continue on.” He paused. “So it’s only good news and good news.”
With only a half hour designated for break, things quickly returned to as close to business as usual as they could be afterZemeckis’s megaphone address. However, while Zemeckis and company had planned a surprise for their crew, an unexpected surprise was still in store for one member of the inner circle. After the announcement, Neil Canton’s pager went off. He went to the nearest pay phone and dialed. “Hurry home.” It was his wife. He did as instructed, excusing himself, racing out of the mall parking lot, and heading westbound on California Route 60. The next time he would return to work, he would not only have a new leading man, but also a baby daughter.
Eric Stoltz’s name remained on the production report for the following day, but with no call time or code letters written in to indicate that he was requested to report on set. When the next week began, two strokes of Wite-Out were applied to the call sheet, eliminating
Marty
and
Eric Stoltz
from the top of the cast list. Michael J. Fox would be reporting for duty that Tuesday to the mall, exactly where Eric Stoltz had left off. There could be no greater sign that things were going to continue as seamlessly as possible than that.
But much to the production team’s disappointment, there was some collateral damage
Some of the actors who worked most closely with Stoltz had a feeling that something was off-kilter within a week of the announcement. Tom Wilson remembers there being an odd atmosphere and uncomfortable buzz around the set in the first few days of 1985. Christopher Lloyd also had a sense that things were not clicking the way they should have been. “I felt for Eric. He was a really good actor,” he says. “Although he was doing the part well, he was not bringing that element of comedy to the screen.”
As surprising as the announcement was, some on the crew had sensed that a big change was forthcoming once shooting resumed after the Christmas holiday. “There were signs, especially the last week or so,” Cundey says. “When we would set up a shot and we would shoot Chris Lloyd’s angle, but we wouldn’t do the reverse on Marty. I’d say, ‘Don’t we need the angle?” andBob would say, ‘No, no, no, let’s not worry about that.’ It didn’t take long for me to see that we were saving our energy for what would come next.”
“I got a phone call from one of the producers—I don’t remember if it was Bob Gale or Neil—basically saying, ‘Larry, don’t change the set from 1955,’” production designer Larry Paull says. “They said they weren’t done with it, there may be some changes, and they couldn’t go into it any further, but I was to stop what I was doing.”
The formal announcement came during the late-night “lunch break,” around 10:30 P.M . After Zemeckis dismissed Stoltz from the set, the cast and crew were assembled. The full production team of the director, Bob Gale, Neil Canton, Kathleen Kennedy, Frank Marshall, and Steven Spielberg were present, an unusual show of force that tipped everyone off that something serious was imminent.
“We have an announcement,” Zemeckis said into his bullhorn. “It’s probably going to be shocking—kind of good news, bad news.” The crowd was starting to grow uneasy, he could tell. “I’ll give you the bad news. We’re going to have to reshoot most of the movie because we’ve changed the cast and there’s going to be a new Marty: Michael J. Fox.”
The director saw the reactions. They weren’t gleeful, per se, but they didn’t seem to be as angry or worried as he had feared. Someone from the crowd shouted, “That’s certainly not the bad news!”
“Okay, well, then that’s the good news. I guess the other good news is that we’re going to continue on.” He paused. “So it’s only good news and good news.”
With only a half hour designated for break, things quickly returned to as close to business as usual as they could be afterZemeckis’s megaphone address. However, while Zemeckis and company had planned a surprise for their crew, an unexpected surprise was still in store for one member of the inner circle. After the announcement, Neil Canton’s pager went off. He went to the nearest pay phone and dialed. “Hurry home.” It was his wife. He did as instructed, excusing himself, racing out of the mall parking lot, and heading westbound on California Route 60. The next time he would return to work, he would not only have a new leading man, but also a baby daughter.
Eric Stoltz’s name remained on the production report for the following day, but with no call time or code letters written in to indicate that he was requested to report on set. When the next week began, two strokes of Wite-Out were applied to the call sheet, eliminating
Marty
and
Eric Stoltz
from the top of the cast list. Michael J. Fox would be reporting for duty that Tuesday to the mall, exactly where Eric Stoltz had left off. There could be no greater sign that things were going to continue as seamlessly as possible than that.
But much to the production team’s disappointment, there was some collateral damage
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