Debut, p.11
Debut, page 11
On the morning of the “Have No Fear” video shoot, both dressing rooms at the Film & Television Building on campus were in bedlam. The women’s room was overwhelmed by the need to prepare five female cast members simultaneously. In a pinch, the unoccupied men’s room was pressed into service. The pungent aroma of ammonia and sodium hydroxide permeated the air in both spaces. It was a scent that brought back fond memories. Heather felt at home, at least to some extent.
Anxious to put the band’s disappointing club debut in the rearview mirror, there was no better way to do that, she decided, than to undergo a radical physical transformation. Steve had recruited Bryan Caprio, a promising Brazilian/Italian fashion design student from Otis Parsons, to develop Made in Heaven’s overall look. Three months earlier, they had met on the set of a Chanel commercial, where they discussed the possibility of collaborating. Bryan had brought along help in the form of João and Alejandra, fellow Otis students hoping to break into the industry as makeup artists.
The team was putting the finishing touches on Heather’s new short hairdo. Bryan had turned the chair away from the mirror to better make a dramatic reveal once finished. Heather knew the transformation was dicey but went with it anyway after seeing the quality of his portfolio. Even as an idol trainee, little effort was made to establish a distinct look. The designers would ultimately have their say, she reasoned. When Bryan presented his idea, Heather agreed, feeling the risk was worth the reward. If the concept failed, she could always wear a hat until it grew back.
Bryan’s inspiration came from a dream he had of Anna Karina’s pool hall dance scene in Jean-Luc Godard’s Vivre Sa Vie. He proposed a modernized, voluminous, platinum-blonde version of Nana’s bob from that movie. The look was a variation on the iconic Louise Brooks cut from Pandora’s Box. Heather watched both films in the name of research and instantly fell in love with the concept. “You need to understand. What you see today won’t be the final color,” Bryan explained. “You can’t get from black to platinum in one session. But it will look fabulous for today’s shoot.”
“Okay.”
“It’ll take tremendous effort to keep it maintained. I’m warning you.”
“Got it.”
“The truth is not everyone can pull off this style, but the shape of your head and face are perfect for it.”
“Oh my god, look,” said Mindy as she entered the dressing room along with Erin and Sun-hee. The three stared, eyes shifting back and forth between the mirrored image and the live person. Their mouths hung open in surprised delight.
“Have you seen it yet?” asked Sun-hee.
“Not yet.” Heather bit her lip in anticipation.
“Saejaelyae.”
“You look like a goddess,” said Erin, only half-joking.
Heather’s patience was crumbling. She was tempted to defy her stylist’s wishes by peeking but decided not to anger him needlessly. Seeing the others’ results only increased her excitement. Sun-hee’s hip-length hair had been dyed the color of milk tea. Several strands were crimped to accent her face. Erin’s black, mid-back-length hair now cascaded gently down one shoulder. Mindy’s was trimmed to her shoulders and dyed a classic red with the ends curled out.
“You all look fantastic,” Heather said. Her eyes shifted to and fro as she attempted to take them all in without moving her head. “Where’s Grace?”
“Ta-da,” her friend announced as she slid into Heather’s view from the right. The boundless enthusiasm on display signaled complete satisfaction with the results. Grace had been given a flirty, fierce, chin-length, electro-purple bob with straight bangs.
“Wait ‘til you see the outfits,” said Mindy. “Honestly, they’re better than the ones we had for WeR5.”
Steve’s friend Marielle Brodeur, an American of French-Canadian ancestry, had volunteered to help with costuming. Her day job at a prominent costume rental shop was a vital consideration. Intending to become a costume designer, Marielle saw Steve’s music video as an opportunity to develop her skills. She had taken the girls’ measurements the week prior but only hinted at the ultimate plan.
When Bryan finished with Heather’s hair, the wait wasn’t over. For maximum visual impact, Alejandra insisted on finishing her makeup first. Heather closed her eyes and held her head perfectly still to facilitate the process. Finally, the magic words were uttered as she neared her breaking point. “Are you ready?”
“Do you need to ask?”
Bryan turned the chair around.
She didn’t recognize the person looking back at her from the mirror; the unfamiliar image was startling. True to Bryan’s instincts, an inverted bob consummately suited Heather’s small and delicate facial features. Rather than trimming the bangs straight across her forehead, he left them longer on the sides, like theater curtains on a proscenium. The bob’s front edge was styled to flip under and conform to her jawline. Stacked layers in the back, trimmed to below the tips of her ears, adhered meticulously to the shape of her head, evoking an almost helmet-like effect. Dark liner made her bright eyes pop, especially in contrast to the light-colored hair. The result of this transformation was electric, managing to be at once slightly old-fashioned yet excitingly modern. It both thrilled and terrified her.
“Marvelous. You should show it to Steve,” suggested Grace.
Heather took that advice, leaping into the air as if electroshocked. It didn’t take long to find him. He was on the loading dock supervising two crew members as they packed the equipment van. She stood in silence, wondering if the team would notice. Being totally immersed in their work, they did not. Clearing her throat also failed to gain their attention. Steve was placing a Fresnel lantern in the back of the van when she addressed him directly. “Will this work?” Heather adopted a cute pose and framed her face aegyo style for maximum impact.
Upon noticing her, Steve’s jaw dropped. So did the lantern, slipping from his grasp and shattering on the concrete floor. Neither Steve nor the two crew members reacted. They simply stared.
Heather stifled a laugh as the three remained in stasis. “Are you okay?” she asked while pointing. “That looked expensive.”
“What?” Steve briefly glanced at the remnants of the lamp, which he doubtlessly would have to pay for. “Oh, yeah. No prob. Yeah, that looks good, Heather. Real good.” Steve kept staring. Meaningful utterances escaped him.
“I’ll just finish getting ready then,” she said, indicating the dressing room only steps away. Now embodying her borrowed Nana persona to the fullest, Heather sashayed away from the boys with the sound of Michel Legrand’s “Swing! Swing! Swing!” playing in her head. She understood innately the effect she was having on the audience in question. Her confidence soared.
* * *
The caravan crossed the Mojave Desert north of Los Angeles in the heat of the midday sun. One equipment van, one passenger minivan, two cars, and 18 people made their way to a spot best described as the middle of nowhere. Heather had no idea where they were going. Steve had a specific location in mind but kept it a mystery to everyone else. The minivan carried the five musicians, Alejandra, Marielle, and driver Gil. The two cars each held four crew members and various supplies.
Steve planned to light the set and block action in the afternoon while filming the bulk of the video during golden hour, the period of soft light before sunset. The cast and a skeleton crew would stay overnight at a nearby campground for early morning shots. The rest of the team would return home the same day.
After miles of flat desert, Heather watched a small group of low hills appear on the horizon. In the center of this geographic landmark, two roads met at a T: one paved and one gravel. At this intersection sat a collection of buildings that could have been plucked straight off Route 66 during its 1960s heyday. There was a gas station, a restaurant, and an unlit Atomic Age neon sign. The caravan pulled into the unfenced lot.
As the cast and crew emerged from their vehicles, Steve announced in his best MC voice, “Welcome to Crossroads Movie Ranch.” After receiving initial instructions, the production team expressed their approval and bolted into action. They unloaded the film equipment, erected a cooling station for the cast, and arranged food on the craft services table. As Steve monitored the activity, Heather approached. “How much did this place cost?”
Steve looked at her coyly. “You don’t see a fee collector, do you?”
Heather’s eyebrows arched. “Rolling the dice, I see.”
Steve tapped her shoulder and responded, “I like living on the edge.”
When Gil requested keys to the buildings, Steve simply said. “We only have permission to film outside.”
Heather stifled a giggle. “Permission, huh?”
“They’d have given it to me if I asked.”
“And paid.”
Shandi Perkins had been recruited as director of photography. Steve decided to film the entire video via drone, except for the opening and closing images. Shandi possessed the best skills at the university in that regard. Besides making dramatic overhead shots possible, he believed this technique was most efficient for capturing various angles without wasting limited daylight on multiple camera resets.
As the production crew scurried about like ants, Heather assessed the film lot. Something told her she’d seen it before. “Hey. This is like that Red Velvet video!”
Sun-hee, who stood nearby, agreed. “You’re right. ‘Ice Cream Cake.’”
Steve approached them, his complexion noticeably paler than before. “What do you mean?”
“You’ve heard of Red Velvet, right?” asked Heather.
“Yeah,” he responded, sounding about as unsteady as a drunk on roller skates.
“Their video for ‘Ice Cream Cake’ was filmed here. I think.”
Steve appeared vexed by this news and demanded proof. Several phones searched for signals, but the remote location made establishing a connection difficult.
“If I can get on higher ground, I might be able to pick something up on mine,” suggested Heather. The crew erected a ladder at Steve’s behest to access the roof. Once there, Steve and Heather resumed signal hunting. What they found was weak but enough to allow for a substantially buffered view of the music video. Sure enough, Steve was able to recognize the place. “That’s the Four Aces Movie Ranch, not far from here. I swear I’ve never seen this video before. This is a disaster.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I’ll be dismissed as a copycat. I’m screwed.”
“K-Pop groups steal from each other constantly,” said Heather.
“Not me. Besides, if I wanted to be cliché, I’d have filmed at Vasquez Rocks. And what the hell is a Korean girl group doing in the middle of the California desert, anyway?”
Heather adored the irony. “As a matter of fact, I’ve been asking myself that all day.”
Steve ignored the comment. “I initially designed this concept for Radial Elliott and didn’t have time to change it. What am I going to do?”
“At least ours is a band, not a dance group.”
“That’s not enough,” he responded. “I need a new wrinkle to make it mine.” Heather watched as Steve began pacing what would have been the canopy of the gas pumps if the set had been an actual service station. The sun was starting to take its toll on her stamina. She opted to leave for the shade. As she descended the ladder, Steve cursed while stumping his foot on some protrusion. Once back on the ground, Alejandra handed Heather a portable fan to keep cool. She found a spot in the shade to wait. Minutes later, Steve joined her. “I got it!” he said. “We have a drone.”
This scant response offered no explanation at all. Before she could inquire further, Mindy approached, asking, “Where do you want us, boss?”
Steve pointed above his head, indicating the roof of the gas station.
Heather’s eyebrows arched. “Up there? Are you serious?”
“Yup. Pretend you’re the Beatles, but instead of central London, you’ll sing to… I don’t know…coyotes.”
Heather looked baffled. “Do coyotes like K-Pop?”
“They’re surprisingly cosmopolitan, I’m told.” Steve instantly barked new orders to the crew. “Jason, get the band equipment on the roof. Have a team help you. I need inkies and diffusion there too.”
Meanwhile, a tent had been erected to serve as a makeshift green room for the band. Inside, the girls were gathered around a portable cooler as the stylists touched up their hair and makeup. When it came time to dress, Heather admired their new outfits. Marielle had been given a set of parameters to forge the group’s identity. The goal was to project an image of confidence and control. Fun, flirty, and sexy without coming off as either too trampy or cutesy. Balance was key. Other than that, she was free to be creative. Her outfits consisted of pieces borrowed from the rental house but custom-tailored for each member. Sun-hee’s look emphasized femininity. It included a flared leather skirt extending to mid-thigh and a high-necked, short-sleeved top that exposed her slender midriff. Grace exuded confidence in skin-tight leather pants with a tank top and studded leather jacket. Erin’s garb was playful, with a flat-brimmed baseball cap, a leather, raglan-sleeved princess cut dress, and hose. Mindy’s spirited outfit consisted of shorts and a cowl-neck blouse. Marielle used a faded blue jean jacket in tandem with a pencil miniskirt and black blouse to reflect Heather’s charm. All five members wore unique pairs of heeled boots. The predominant material was black leather, with white and navy-blue cotton fabric splashes to tie the ensemble together.
Gil Parkhurst, an exchange student from England, was tasked with photographing the band for promotional purposes. He mercifully chose shaded areas around the lot to pose each member. A picturesque spot near a magnificent Joshua tree was selected for the whole group shot. Poor Meadow, a freshman film student tasked with production assistant duties, was assigned to stand in for the band members on the broiling hot roof as Shandi practiced her drone maneuvers.
As the sun dipped towards the horizon, the intense heat marginally weakened. Steve ordered the band in place, which was easier said than done. Their heeled boots proved a hindrance to ladder climbing. “I really didn’t want to die this way,” complained Erin on her wobbly ascent.
“Wait ‘til we climb down,” said Heather.
Once on the canopy, Erin continued to find fault with the working conditions. “Eww, it’s filthy here,” she said as she approached her bass amidst the dust and debris.
“Welcome to glamorous show biz,” responded Grace.
Steve stayed on the roof long enough to block the scene, then returned to the ground to discuss his options with Shandi. To capture the best light, there was just enough time for one practice run with the musicians in place. The plan was to go through the song several times, focusing on medium range and close-ups of each member. This would be followed by a wide-angle master shot to capture the entire group at once. If timed correctly, this master would coincide with the setting sun when the sky looked most sumptuous. The cast rehearsal revealed a slight hitch. Since the members were all of different heights, Shandi was forced to adjust the drone’s altitude each time she flew from one musician to another. Steve instructed the three shortest members, Heather, Grace, and Erin, to stand on apple boxes to even out the cast. This adjustment delayed the first take by 15 minutes.
Since the on-camera mics were dummies only and not recording, Heather and Sun-hee were allowed to sing out loud in time with the music playback. This method, Steve felt, would produce the most natural-looking results. Mindy was told to play the drums live as her timing was spot on each take. Steve was less concerned with guitar and bass-playing accuracy since they would be less noticeable on camera. Instead, he encouraged those musicians to interact with the camera as much as possible.
Shandi used different flying patterns to give Steve plenty of editing coverage later. They managed to play through the song three times before a surprise visitor arrived. Upon finishing the close-up run, a cloud of dust in the distance signaled the imminent arrival of a vehicle. It was the first one they’d seen all day. The white Jeep Cherokee slowed to a crawl as it approached the crossroads. The driver stared conspicuously at the crew, vehicles, and equipment covering the breadth of the lot.
“Looks like we have company,” said Erin. The production team held their breath as the Jeep lingered at the intersection for an eternity before turning onto the paved road and speeding away.
“What do you suppose that means?” asked Grace as the band watched from the roof.
“That our luck’s about to run out,” Heather surmised.
“All right, let’s finish this,” shouted Steve urgently from his chair at the playback monitor.
The showpiece master shot was designed as a single take, with the drone starting in a hover position directly in front of the band. As the song built to its climax, the drone was to pull up and back, revealing more and more of the surrounding terrain. The first attempt was aborted as the propellers vibrated noticeably on ascent. The second attempt went smoothly, but after watching the playback, Steve remained unhappy. “The sun’s still too high, and the sky’s too bright,” he explained over the walkie-talkie. “Relax for a bit, but stay in positions.” As they waited patiently, the white Cherokee returned. This time, instead of driving by, the driver pulled into the lot and stopped near Meadow. The two exchanged words before she pointed out Steve’s location.
A tall, overweight man in his mid-30s wearing a trucker cap and a Houston Astros shirt emerged from the vehicle. Out of curiosity, the band peered over the lip of the roof to witness the confrontation. The driver approached Steve and asked, “What production company is this? I didn’t hear of a booking this weekend.”
“Miracle Pictures,” responded Steve.
“Miracle Pictures?” the man responded with a smirk.
“You know what they say. ‘If it’s good, it’s a Miracle.’”
The driver looked neither amused nor convinced. “I’ll have to call this in.” He dialed a number on his phone. As the guy waited for someone to pick up, Steve looked at Heather with a sheepish grin. The man shook his phone in frustration. “Damn service out here. Stay put. I’m driving into town to ask Freddy.” He returned to his Cherokee and disappeared down the desert highway.
