Monday, December 22, 2008

Backstage with The Masters of Illusion

About a month ago I found myself on the lot of Ren-Mar Studios shooting an episode of the new magic television series entitled Masters of Illusion. Ren-Mar is the old Desilu television studios where Desi Arnaz and Lucille Ball really pioneered the current day television sitcom with I Love Lucy. I know that I'll be stepping on a few sacred comedy toes when I say this, but I never really cared for that show. Now, comedy is a big part of my career, and I fully appreciate and respect Lucy for her contribution to the world of comedy and know full well that some of her routines have become, and should be considered, classics.

It was just her incessant whining!

It seems like every time I turned on that show as a kid, and even now, as an adult, when I try to endure an episode, I can't get past her whining and crying to Ricky. She's crying because she can't be in Ricky's show. She's whining because she can't go shopping. Shes sobbing at the outcome of that particular episode's "wacky mix-up" with that inhuman, high-pitched "Wwwhaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa" thing that just grates my nerves. And I don't think it was all just Lucy. I think that it was her crying coupled with the domineering and controlling nature of Ricky that really turned me off. Lucy cried and Ricky did nothing to get her to shut up! Instead he just continued to exercise that macho and suave Cuban persona that got him into trouble even OUTSIDE of the show's plot lines. I understand it was a different time then, and that it was a "man's world." This was what allowed Ricky to strut around unchecked, oozing his Cubanness in public and over the airwaves exciting American women into a frenzy causing them all to want to get a hold of his maracas. No one questioned that he was out thumping other women's bongos in real life behind Lucy's back. It was almost EXPECTED of him. Men did these things out in the open then.

And, so, because of his arrogance and her whining, I prefer to appreciate Lucy's comedy through isolated clips of her classically funny routines.

So where was I?

Oh yes! So I was at Ren-Mar Studios in Los Angeles shooting Masters of Illusion. This is a 13-week series consisting of different magicians presenting different styles of magic in each episode. The show is supposed to debut on January 5th on Fox's MyNetworkTV, and I was lucky enough to be included in the 6-day shooting schedule, as were a lot of my performing friends.

By the time my shoot day rolled around, it was Thursday of that week, and by this time the producers and crew members had had three days to understand how they wanted the whole production to roll that day. We all had our production assistants, and mine, Ryan, was very helpful in getting me whatever it was that I needed.

We all had a dress rehearsal on stage for the production crew and the director. Mine was at about noon. Because my performance clothes were in the wardrobe department being pressed and my shoes were being shined (thank you, Ryan), I walked through my 10-minute set in my street clothes. A crew member stood in for the volunteers that I would have up on the stage during the actual shoot that night in front of a live audience. I ran through the two routines I would be performing later that evening, and had the crew laughing st my antics, even though they were somewhat downplayed for the rehearsal. My big finale, when I disrobe to reveal my Superman-style outfit with the chosen card emblazoned on my chest, was reduced to me holding up the costume on a wooden hanger and announcing to the unseen director, "...And I end up wearing THIS."

The director's voiced boomed down, as if from Heaven, "That's great, Shawn. There's just one thing I'm going to ask that you do tonight."

"What's that?"

"Because we haven't cleared the rights to your music, I'm going to ask that you don't talk over the music when it's playing tonight."

I should explain for those of you who have never seen my act. The finish to my show is a routine I call "Magicman" where I attempt to find a volunteer's selected card over and over again. My attempts to locate the card become more and more extravagant and more and more strange with each card I find. None of them are the selected card, however. Finally, music from the movie Superman begins to play and I disrobe, in the style of Superman, to reveal the correct card on my chest. It's kind of like what it would look like when Superman, himself, switched from Clark Kent into his crime-fighting alter ego if you were allowed in the phone booth while he changed. Except for the fact that Clark Kent is in a LOT better shape than I am.

From what I've heard from other performers with music who participated in the Masters shoot, NONE of our music had been cleared and all of us will have substitute pieces playing -- pieces that the production DOES have the rights to -- in the final edited version of the show. This is a fairly common practice, and it didn't bother me at all. I mean it would have been GREAT if MY music played during my segment, but a comparably dramatic piece will do. The reason I had been asked not to speak during the music was because they will have to remove the track with my music to substitute their own, and if I had been talking during that time, my voice would disappear with the music, and home viewers would see my lips moving, but nothing would be coming out. Actually not MUCH different from my EVERYDAY life, now that I think about it...

Anyway, once my rehearsal was over, I had the rest of the day to just prepare for my evening performance, write, watch some of the other rehearsals, and wander the studio. I decided to pack up some of the props that I wouldn't be needing that night and load them into my car so I would have less to clean up after my evening performance. As I walked across the studio to the lot where I parked my car, I walked by a very attractive woman who, I could tell by her provocative style of dress, was probably shooting something in the studio across from ours. She was engaged in conversation with a director or producer or manager or something, and as I got closer, we made eye contact briefly. As I passed, my mind raced to place her face. Was that Britney Spears? I walked out the front gate of the studio and made a left to walk down the street to my car. Holy Crap! There was a line of about 100 teens and young adults lined up outside the studio.

Yep, it was Brit, all right, and this group was here to be a part of her new M-TV video that they were shooting in the studio across the way.

Our audience was let into the studio at about 6:30 PM, and we all began to prepare for the shoot. We got our performance order and we went to make-up. As we drew nearer to the beginning of the evening's show, Ryan appeared and informed me that the sound department would like to talk with me. It seemed that they were trying to decide on how to wire me up with a microphone so that I could be heard during my entire routine. Remember now, I was going to be taking off my clothes during my performance, and I have one more line to say to the volunteer after I'm left standing in my "Superman" costume. It was that ONE LINE, and how to mike me for it, that was giving the sound department headaches. They could give me one mike, but if they attached it to my coat, my coat will then be shed, and I would have no mike for the final line once I was in my costume. If they attached the mike to the COSTUME, the next question was where to hide the transmitter. It couldn't be put into my jacket, because, again, the jacket will be coming off, and we don't want the transmitter just hanging there. And even then, if they attached the mike to the costume, it would have to be under my outer layer of clothing for most of my act, and that would make for unsatisfactory sound quality. We discussed various options, and I was excused while they thought about it.

I was called back to the sound department many times, and each time we all found it more and more humorous, because every time I went there, they would have a great idea, and as we discussed each idea, we would realize that it wouldn't work after all, and I would be excused again. Finally, a resolution was discovered. I would be fitted with TWO microphones. One on my outer layer of clothing, and one underneath attached to my costume. When my jacket came off, the first mike would be discarded with it and when I was standing there in my spandex outfit, the second mike would already be there ready to take over. Problem solved.

Now came the hilariously awkward process of wiring me up while standing in the spandex outfit. Thank God no one was backstage with a camera, because the last thing I need is a video popping up on YouTube showing me with my pants down around my ankles while two very muscular and beefy men shoved a transmitter encased in a makeshift pouch of Grip's tape into my red Speedo underwear and ran a small microphone wire through a popped stitch in my costume located precariously close to me bum, up my back and over my shoulder to be clipped on the collar of my spandex costume. An odd looking scene to the random passerby, to be sure.

When this particular episode airs, look for the transmitter sticking out of my butt.

Masters of Illusion was a great experience, and I was very happy to be a part of it. The entire production staff made my 12-hour day there very comfortable and all of the producers made a point of telling me how much they enjoyed my set.

Some other memorable moments that happened backstage:

+ David Williamson, one of the funniest comedy magicians out there, watching escape artist Mark Cannon onstage from the video screen backstage with a very "concerned" look on his face while Mark attempted to escape his restraints before a bed of knives plummeted down on him. Williamson stood there with his arms crossed, intently watching the screen. As soon as Mark's first hand was freed after much struggling, Williamson's expression changed to one of relief as he said, "Oh good! He's going to be all right! He'll be fine." He looked at me and said in an accusatory tone, "YOU wanted to see the spikes drop, didn't you!"

+ Magician and funny man Dave Cox walking down the ramp backstage leading from the performing area to the crew area, and, wearing patent leather shoes, slipping and going down right on his butt. I thought, witnessing the fall and heading over to see if he needed help, that he might be seriously hurt. He was fine and was able to perform his funny Evil Hypnotist Monkey routine that night.

+ Illusionist Nathan Burton's dance team being seriously fooled by a "lead choreographer with the production" (really an imposter played by an associate of David Williamson's) that wanted to go over all the girls' dance moves and disapproving of much of it.

+ Spirited conversation with my friends Jonathan Levit, Johnny Ace Palmer, and Bruce Gold, all three of them great magicians and a part of the series, during dinner before the evening show.

Great memories, lots of fun, and we got to shoot a TV show together. Is this a great job, or what?

--Shawn

Shawn McMaster
Conjured-Up Creations
P.O. Box 973
Newbury Park, CA 91319
(805) 480-0703
(805) 990-0600
www.conjuredupcreations.com

1 comment:

Dan Trommater said...

So... you and my other friends Jonathan Levit and Doc Eason all get this gig... no one bothers to try to get Dan involved...

No, no. Don't worry about me. I'll be fine all alone here in the Great White North.