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The New Yorker Like residents of other photogenic parts of the city, people who live
between the Brooklyn Bridge and the South Street Seaport have become accustomed
to seeing their blocks turned into movie sets. Film trucks idle day and
night in the street; there’s no parking; klieg lights illuminate
the bedroom windows; and, as one resident put it the other day, "arrogant
guys with a thug attitude tell you to stay off your own sidewalk." Even by local standards, last Tuesday’s shoot, for "I Am Legend,"
a forthcoming Will Smith disaster movie, was remarkable. "I Am Legend"
is, in terms of size, length, and logistics, one of the most ambitious
location shoots that has ever taken place in the city. Since shooting
began, in October, "Legend" has been establishing a new precedent
for the aggressive takeover of public space. The movie camped out in Washington
Square Park for weeks in October and November, restricting access for
most of that time, and occasionally setting off loud explosions in the
wee hours. Tuesday night was the first of six night shoots on Dover Street,
near the Seaport. In addition to simulated gridlock on Dover, there was
to be a panicked evacuation across South Street, and a Black Hawk helicopter
was to land on a two-hundred-foot barge in the East River. At 5 P.M., more than a thousand extras were waiting in two huge heated
tents that had been set up in a lot near some basketball courts. There
were men and women of all ages, and lots of kids, some of whom were doing
their homework at long wooden tables. The film is set in a plague-ridden
Manhattan; the infected extras had hectic splotches of red makeup on their
faces. Some of the extras (or "background artists," as they
were referred to by the P.A.s) were making seven dollars and fifty cents
an hour, and would be working well past midnight. On Tuesday, the temperature
was thirty-four degrees; by Friday it would be in the teens. At quarter past five, a P.A. began going around in the tents, making
sure that the evacuees had their motivations down. "O.K., people,
listen up," he yelled through a megaphone. "You are tired. You’re
on the verge of despair. But you’re not panicked—not at first.
Later, you panic." The fact that the operation was happening at all, especially in a neighborhood that still recalls the real panic and evacuation of five years ago, is a testament to the extraordinary determination of the Mayor’s Office of Film, Theatre, and Broadcasting. Katherine Oliver, the commissioner of the Film Office, says that her
agency solicits studios long before production decisions have been made,
in the hope of luring films to New York. She noted that earlier drafts
of "I Am Legend" had been set in Los Angeles, and said, "I’d
like to think we had something to do with that change." Oliver’s office also offers what it calls a "Concierge Service," to ease the potential headaches involved in restricting traffic, blowing up buildings, and simulating mass panic in the streets; it will assist in arranging permits, complimentary use of the N.Y.P.D.’s special Movie and TV Unit, location scouting, budget analysis, marketing, and, best of all, free access to city landmarks. "The Mayor is all about customer service, and that’s what we
try to provide," Oliver said. "Vanilla Sky" was allowed
to shut down Times Square for three hours, and "The Interpreter"
filmed inside the U.N.’s Security Council chamber (the director,
Sydney Pollack, met with Kofi Annan). The state and the city also offer
tax credits for expenses—lighting, props, catering—incurred
in New York. By five-thirty, the invasion was under way. The evacuees filled Dover
Street, where the crew had constructed a traffic jam, placing cars slightly
askew. By six, the fake traffic jam was causing a real one on South Street.
The people in the real one looked much more annoyed. A crew member shouted, "Stand by!" "Oh, here we go," a young extra said. "Our big moment." "Action!" Some officials had been concerned that the feigned panic might cause
actual panic. And there was always the remote possibility that some terrorist
would use the manufactured commotion as a cover to create the real thing. But, in the end, the only frisson of pandemonium came when Will Smith
appeared on Dover Street, weaving through traffic to get to the barge
with a little girl in his arms. A French tourist let out a scream. "Incroyable!"
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