Chaos on Set

Henry strolled leisurely into the chaotic filming location. But the bustle before him seemed somewhat different from what he had imagined.

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Normally, at the start of the workday, the crew would be preparing for filming while the actors got their makeup done. If the costumes had special requirements, they would also need fittings and changes.

Naturally, the order went from leads to supporting roles, then background actors. If there were enough makeup artists and the leads had dedicated makeup artists, they would split up and work simultaneously.

But no one was getting makeup done now. Many people were gathered around the location scheduled for filming today, shouting loudly.

Henry walked over to several background actors who had arrived earlier and had been watching the commotion for a while. "What's going on? I thought we were shooting a big scene today. Why is no one preparing?"

"Seems like that big scene ran into trouble."

"What kind of trouble?"

"The stunt performers said the safety measures for today's scene aren't good enough, so they refuse to shoot."

Henry said in surprise, "They can do that?" Then he asked, "Didn't they sign contracts?"

Several old hands who had spent years in Hollywood looked at Henry as if he were making a fuss over nothing. "You're new here, huh?"

"Yeah, I only came to Los Angeles last Christmas. I guess that counts as new," Henry answered honestly.

The people who had been mocking him froze for a moment, then said awkwardly, "You really are new." They did not add anything more cutting.

One Hollywood veteran who liked instructing others explained, "Stunt performers get paid more than we do, but the rest of their contracts are pretty much the same. Of course there are penalties for breach of contract. But they have one additional clause.

"If the safety measures are insufficient and there is a risk of injury, they can refuse to perform unconditionally. The problem is, what counts as 'sufficient safety measures'? That can't be clearly written into a contract."

Henry said in astonishment, "It's hard to imagine Hollywood having a contract with such an obvious loophole. Are these really Americans? You could drag in a lawyer's pet dog and it could draft harsher terms than that."

The older actor continued explaining, "If you think about it carefully, it isn't hard to understand. Stunt performers shoot dangerous scenes. If the production deliberately cuts safety measures to save money, then uses huge breach penalties to force stunt performers into action—

"If an accident really happens, who takes responsibility? As long as someone on the team is willing to testify that the injury was caused by the production forcing the actor to perform, they'll have to pay a goddamn astronomical sum in compensation.

"Besides, when someone has doubts or even resists performing, they're more likely to make mistakes. In a stunt scene, wouldn't that be fatal? Who would dare force someone on set?"

With that, Henry understood. At the end of the day, this was filmmaking, not a documentary. Everyone pursued the most realistic shots, but that did not mean they would actually kill someone just to film a murder scene.

If they did, everyone from the producer to the director would be slapped with a murder charge and sent on a prison tour. California still retained the death penalty, but it had not carried out an execution in a very long time.

Likewise, those scenes that looked extremely dangerous on film were all shot in safe environments. No matter how crazy Hollywood was, it would not dare write off a human life for a single shot. At least, such a thing could not become routine.

...Yes, it just could not become routine. That meant Hollywood really had done things this crazy before.

While Henry was still watching the show from the edge of the crowd, the lead actor's stunt double at the center of the dispute suddenly turned around, flung the same denim jacket worn by the lead actor into the director's face, and left without looking back.

Some people stared in shock, some cursed furiously, and others whispered among themselves.

It was hard to say who was angrier about the stunt double's sudden walkout: the producer, the director, or the leader of the action performer team. All three were practically losing their minds.

The bald old white man in a suit, who looked every bit the part, sprayed saliva at the director as he roared, "If you can't shoot it, then go back to the studio and build a set. I'm not agreeing to keep applying to the government to close off streets for filming. Do you know how much that costs?"

The director, meanwhile, lashed out at the producer and the action team leader. "I will not compromise on this shot! This is the biggest scene in my movie, the climax of the entire film!

"If you don't want to apply for another street closure slot, fine. Just let me shoot the scene I want according to plan today. I don't care who does it, but I refuse to have plastic models and mannequins in my movie, with explosions handled by firecrackers."

The action team leader, who could not even hold back his own performer, also wanted to curse someone out. But he could not direct his anger at the producer or director, nor could he vent it on his own people.

Because the people left were all doing prop department work, responsible for behind-the-scenes stunt tasks. Some were fat, some were short, and the only usable performer had just stormed off.

As the owner of a third-rate action team that had scraped by in Hollywood for years, the jobs they usually got involved playing villainous goons beaten up by the protagonist.

Otherwise, they would strap firecrackers and blood packs to themselves, acting out being shot or killed. At most, they would prepare props for decapitations and fake limbs, then splash around a lot of red paint.

This time, they had finally landed an action scene involving a car chase and explosions. For their team, this was an opportunity to improve their reputation.

If they pulled it off well, wouldn't better opportunities come knocking, inviting their team aboard?

In Hollywood, only a small number of people with a keen eye would invest in an uncertain future. Most judged the viability of people and projects by their past credentials.

After finally designing an action plan with several prop department buddies and getting the director's approval, the actor suddenly refused to do it!

What the hell was that supposed to mean?

The team leader wanted to roar more than anyone else. He knew the street closure permit only covered the morning, ending at noon.

Most of his other performers were working on other film crews. Who could rush over at the last minute to fill this role?

And who could he even reach at a moment's notice? Did they think everyone had nothing to do in broad daylight, sitting at home waiting for a call?

Nearly driven to question his entire life by the producer and director's tirade, the action team leader finally forced out an idea. "How about we let the male lead do it himself? Afterward, we can promote it with the gimmick that 'all the exciting scenes were performed by the actor himself.'"

Then the man, clearly no longer young but still powerfully built, was immediately scolded into the shape of a dog. He hunched himself up and trembled.