I Am C-3PO--The Inside Story Page 20

  “Like the silver calf in A New Hope?”

  “Exactly.”

  “But that was so subtle that few people notice it.”

  “Exactly.”

  There was certainly nothing subtle about red. Clearly J.J. had got a thing about that colour. But he was the director. I eventually, in desperation, mocked up an idea in Photoshop. An arm with metal Band-Aid patches, riveted on. I liked it.

  “No. Red.”

  So the design team carried on, until I had a passable copy of the original suit. Though that vital artifact was locked in Lucasfilm’s archive, some communication problem between them and Disney barred David from seeing and measuring it accurately. Which was a shame. The lack of exact data added greatly to the task. David had to use a lot of guess-work and intuition. Most of which worked.

  The best part was his rethinking of Threepio’s head fixings. The thirty-minute horror of lining up various screws and holes was gone. A simple fix had me encased in six seconds. Uncased in three. Now I would be able to see and breathe and cool down between each shot. What a gift.

  Less of a gift for me was the script. I accepted that Threepio was very much on the periphery but I recognised that J.J. had a huge, difficult balancing act – getting everyone back into the story. I would have liked it if my friend had more opportunities to show off his talents and vulnerabilities. I thought Threepio was worth more. But I was already more than pleased to be part of this new enterprise.

  And what a transformation from prequels to sequel. I would never forget the experience of working on the former. Here was utterly different. J.J.’s enthusiasm flowed all over and around the set. Everyone seemed so happy to be there. Every member of the crew had grown up with Star Wars – many not born at the time of the original. Whatever blockbusters they had worked on, they were so pleased to be a part of this one. It made for a real family atmosphere. That included hosts of background artists. J.J. would always welcome the Crowd with genuine affection and respect. He asked them not to share what they saw or heard – not to ruin the surprise. I don’t believe anyone ever did. They would tell me how proud they were to be part of a story so vividly remembered from childhood. They were angry at the drones that tried to snap spoiler photos of the sets and costumes for the newspapers.

  It was a thrill to watch the ranks of stormtroopers going to set, each one draped in a black cloak against prying eyes, each with a concealing black bag in their hand – their helmet. They had the aura of a sinister religious sect on the movie, almost as thrilling a sight as their new white uniforms worn underneath, only revealed for the shoot itself. And the sets were thrilling, too. Where had all the green screen gone? We had reality – no more pretend. We had the real thing all around us.

  But before that, there was the read-through. We sat in a large circle. I don’t know if the others felt as self-conscious as I did, but there was Peter studying the script. Harrison being hilarious and Carrie eventually retiring to a back seat, and Mark sitting next to me. An Artoo unit was in an open packing case on the far side of the group. Eventually, a select photo of the whole thing sped around the world. There we all were. Laughing. Smiling. Talking. Reading. Sadly, the only one with his back to the camera was me. How typical. But I was just amazed to be back again – and touched at the little round of applause from the team, when I chipped in with the first of Threepio’s few lines.

  Carrie took us out to dinner that night. Her now-constant companion, Gary, joined us at the table. His tail wagged briefly as his tongue lolled flaccidly over the menu that he could only dream of being served. The meal was like a therapy session. Both actors were appalled at their roles – Mark in particular. He had brilliantly read the stage directions for us all that day at Pinewood – brilliantly, thrillingly, sight-read them – because he had no lines of his own in the script. He seemed traumatised in the hubbub of The Firehouse restaurant.

  I tried to explain that this was surely the biggest build-up to an entrance – ever. He was still not convinced. Me? I understood that we were there to serve the story, the bigger picture, literally. I had developed the protective mantra of taking what I’m given, to a certain degree. Though it was nice to be back with the originals, I had hoped that somehow Threepio would return to be with his companion, Master Luke. But it was not to be. Though I rarely saw Mark again during the shoot, it was good to have Carrie back on set once more.

  Threepio’s first task was to pull the covers off Artoo. He had been forgotten in a dusty corner of the bunker. This was the moment J.J. first saw the golden droid for real. He was delightfully excited, as one of his fondly remembered childhood figures came to life. Sadly, that innocent moment would be shattered.

  In spite of the brilliant redesign, some parts of the suit still had little functionality, the hands in particular. There was Artoo draped in tarpaulins, there was Threepio reaching forward, there were the steps leading to sunlight above, there was their daylight brightness dazzling straight into my eyes – there was me swearing loudly, as I groped in the blinding darkness. Time after time. There was J.J. listening to my voice, expleting with frustration through his headphones. Simply not correct etiquette at all – it was a side of Threepio the young J.J. could never have imagined in his boyhood wonder.

  How brilliant to meet Brian Herring and BB-8, the magnificent new droid he was puppeteering. I quickly labelled Brian, “Man In Green”, since he was dressed head-to-toe in a coloured suit that would eventually be wiped out in post. His co-operator, David Chapman, was remotely controlling the droid’s perky head from a distance. He was dressed in jeans. I labelled him “Dave”. Brian called me “MIG”, the original “Man In Gold”. Silly stuff – but much in keeping with our larky relationship on set.

  Brian’s scripted, but extemporised, burblings and whistles were whimsical magic. The daft sounds he made were simply hilarious and, in context, completely understandable. I wanted J.J. to sample Brian’s vocal performance for BB-8’s screen voice. That didn’t happen. But it made scenes between us such fun. The only problem was that I had to remember to look at the little round droid at my feet, rather than at Brian’s animated face next to mine. Also, I had to try not to giggle.

  However realistic was the set of the underground Rebel Bunker, it got a bit old after a while.

  EXT. D’qar – REBEL BASE – DAY

  It was a joy. Daylight. Fresh air. Greenham Common – another Anglo-American production. During the Cold War, it had been the local American nuclear weapons launch pad. Our perimeter fence now protected the set from snoopers, rather than the thousands of anti-nuclear protesters who had tried to storm the facility, back then. The missiles gone now, the more benign Falcon parked on the runway instead, the detritus of rebel conflict and giant vine roots dressing the manmade landscape where once, nuclear conflict had threatened to end our world. And yes, to my surprise and a twinge of guilt, there was the Millennium Falcon apparently risen from the ashes at Elstree decades ago. Should I return the pieces I had rescued, now mouldering in my attic? I decided not to mention it. But it was a sweet moment to see the iconic craft once more.

  And a sweet recollection, revisited. A sudden harking back to that interrupted kiss, so long ago, another gooseberry moment, as Threepio obliviously crashed an emotional reunion between Leia and Han – Carrie and Harrison. Would Threepio never learn?

  But here was one of J.J.’s master strokes.

  EXT. Takodana – MAZ’S CASTLE RUINS – DAY

  ACTION!

  “You probably don’t recognise me because of the red arm.”

  I so loved that moment, so typical of Threepio’s misreading of the moment, so typical of J.J.’s inventive thinking. And it seemed as if he had, indeed, heard me.

  Throughout the shoot I had greeted him daily with the phrase, “No Forgiveness!” It was the red arm thing. I still didn’t approve. He was the director. He got his way. Eventually I created some large buttons – ba
dges with a sinister blood-red arm suspended in the dark and those warning words across in red letters. J.J. laughed. But maybe he heeded the warning after all. How amazing – seeing the finished film for the first time at the premiere. There was Threepio, waving to the departing Falcon with his left arm – his once more, gold left arm. A gift from J.J. in post – a sweet and final gift, I thought – wrongly.

  Eventually they wrote the story of the red arm as a comic book – The Phantom Limb. It was a sensitive tale, with some profound thoughts – a story of loyalty and understanding – of memories of memories – of self-sacrifice. I was genuinely touched when I read it. Later, at a Celebration, I was gave a dramatised reading. The audience listened in entranced silence. I think they liked it. So I’m surprised that many fans ask me about the genesis of the notorious red arm. Don’t they know it is touchingly memorialised in this moving account of droids with feelings?

  A phone call. Customs officers at London’s Heathrow Airport were intrigued. What exactly was inside the package addressed to me? Package? What package? I had no idea. I wasn’t expecting anything. It seemed that a company, suspiciously called “Bad Robot”, was sending me something from California. I asked what it said on the customs declaration. There was a pause.

  “Fudge Brownie Mix.”

  Suddenly, I understood why the authorities were suspicious. I could hear the approaching police sirens. Jail time threatened. I laughingly explained who I was, what Bad Robot was, who J.J. was, and about his persistent generosity. They seemed to believe me and the box duly arrived. Indeed, it contained everything required to make a batch of delicious chocolate treats – with nothing added.

  J.J. denied trying to get me arrested. Well, he would, wouldn’t he?

  55 rogue

  It was Lucasfilm. I wasn’t expecting a call.

  “He’s a huge, huge Star Wars fan and he’d love to meet you.”

  It seemed they were making a Star Wars spin-off story. The director was a chap called Gareth Edwards – a huge fan. I assumed he wanted an autograph, or a selfie.

  “Why doesn’t he come round to the flat for a cup of tea?”

  And so he did. What a lovely man, so exuberant, full of boyish enthusiasm for his new project. I didn’t ask what it was about – these things are hush-hush. But he couldn’t contain himself, in his need to lay out the full story for me, and it was really full. I didn’t time his flow of words. I managed to hold on to the plot for a while, but eventually just let the whole, darkly exciting thing wash over me. Then I suddenly caught up.

  “Sorry. What did you say?”

  “And I’d really love you to be in it. Just to have Threepio walk through a scene…”

  “What a neat idea.”

  “Because you are so much an icon of the Saga, it would be really important…”

  “I’d love to do it.”

  “It would be just a cameo but I’d be really, really grateful…”

  “I’m saying, yes.”

  “I know it’s not what you would normally do but…”

  “I said YES.”

  He stopped. He had arrived under the assumption that it would be a difficult sell. He’d wound himself up to having to convince me. Now, he was stunned that I had been a pushover. But I loved the idea of this Hitchcockian moment. Why would I ever have said no to him? He looked relieved.

  “Now would you like a cup of tea?”

  It would just be one day at Cardington, deep in the English countryside. We drove up to the huge, imposing structure – a giant, lofty tin shed 180 feet tall. It had been a zeppelin hangar in the days when airships were the thing. On a dreary, grey day, it looked rather threatening – in keeping with what was happening inside.

  The scene they were shooting was clearly very serious – lots of pilot types discussing strategy. I wandered off to find the two master-brains and helpers, David and Jonathan, in my E-Z UP tent. What a joy to see them again after our fun together on The Force Awakens. As ever, David couldn’t wait to show me the little refinements he had added to the suit. For a better effect, I got fully dressed and eyes lit to walk out of my tent. Very few people had seen me arrive in the morning. Now, heading towards sunset, the whole population of the colossal shed seemed to pause, to gaze – many seeing Threepio live for the first time. The effect was palpable, and very reassuring to my sense of pride in the character.

  We shot various set-ups of troops running towards the giant exit doors, me just trying to keep up. Magically the grey skies cleared for a lovely sunset. The exit faced west. Finally, I stood there as the beautiful gold light flooded in and hit my suit. I said my two cents’ worth. Gareth’s lines, completely in character, leaving Threepio confused, bewildered and irritated – as ever.

  INT. YAVIN 4 – HANGAR – DAY

  ACTION!

  “Why does nobody tell me anything, Artoo?”

  Typical. But now I was out of a job, again. Sad – it had been such fun.

  Fun too, earlier. Gareth had told me there was another droid in his film – K-2SO. Sounded like some dry-cleaning product to me. But I had a tinge of concern. Was I about to be upstaged by another BB-8-type ball? Alan Tudyk was cruising the food truck. Actors can generally be found near food outlets. Never sure of where the next meal is coming from, it’s wise to stock up when you have the chance – and it’s free. Now we were both nibbling away at some comfort junk.

  So, this was the new droid on the block. Should I have felt threatened? No chance. Tall, elegant Alan was a hoot from the start. We hit it off together. I loved our bantering encounter there, and at the wondrous premiere, that would be many months away. Of course, he had to admit that ILM would paint over his physical performance, so he wasn’t actually real, like me. It seemed some people are happy to go digital. I said that wasn’t quite the thing. He winced. I was just being jealous.

  I liked Rogue One. A lot. With one exception. The young Carrie Fisher moment. Inside my head, I was silently shouting at the back of her white dress and bunned hair – begging her not to turn around. But I did like the reaction from a surprised audience when Threepio turned up. He would have been proud. I know I gave Gareth a hug. Not sure if he ever got an autograph.

  Or a selfie.

  56 lost

  After the rollercoaster of The Force Awakens, it was interesting to see each scene in The Last Jedi, fully written and plotted in advance.

  Rian Johnson, the gentlest of directors with a Teddy Bear quality, had a way of listening to the cast with great respect and kindness. Of course, he didn’t always follow suggestions, especially if it was me.

  He always wore a face of quiet content. As a fan, he was living the dream; thrilled and excited to be directing this latest episode of the Saga. But he was so self-contained that it was Jamie Christopher, the ebullient First AD, who was a memorably jolly voice on the set. And we had real scenery again. Once more, the Design Department had excelled in their creativity. Always my favourite set – any one with a flat floor.

  INT. RADDUS – CONTROL ROOM

  Such a super spaceship setting, with Billie Lourd being wickedly funny during rehearsals. She’d clearly inherited her sense of humour from Carrie. And there was Oscar Isaac again. Watching through Threepio’s eyes, I could study his acting technique, just so natural, chatting away as we rolled up to “Action!” gently segueing into whatever the scripted lines were. I delighted in being part of the scene with him and Laura Dern, so lovely, in spite of the cocktail dress and mad blue hair. The chemistry between them on set was visible. Though I had very little to do, I felt very much included in their scenes together. And it was fun to see the script build up Poe’s gentle irritation with “Shiny”. It made us both laugh.

  More awesome than funny, was to stand close to a stunt guy. Hit by Leia’s blaster, he was smashed backwards into the wall, yanked on a hydraulic harness. Each time he picked himself up, ready for the next sho
t – literally. Each time, Threepio raised his hands in surrender. He is in awe of stunt actors. So am I.

  Other sets were spectacular but not easy. Filming in the tunnels was horrible, underfoot was horrible, bumping into the chiselled walls was horrible. Even with the hidden red LEDs marking the path, it was horrible. It was a real labyrinth, okay when lit and peopled with crew, but returning from an on-set press interview, all the lights were out, the crew gone home. I was actually lost inside a sound stage – a bewildering moment. But, thinking back over the day’s scenes, where I had stumbled around, I eventually managed to navigate myself out, and home.

  INT. CRAIT – MINE ENTRANCE – DAY

  The surface was awful for Threepio to walk on, and probably also for everyone else, including BB-8. Eventually, it would be changed for the glossy glamour of Canto Bight. But that was later. And I wouldn’t be on that set – well, not in the usual way. How good to see Carrie back, happier with her script than last time. Nice to see Mark, too, but he seemed less happy perhaps. He was mostly doing his thing on a Celtic island, or on the back lot surrounded by shipping containers pretending to be a Celtic island. These massive steel boxes formed easy walls around different open-air sets. They had proved to be a good defence against prying eyes and peeking drones. There was no group read-through this time.

  My first encounter with Carrie was in the medical centre on day one. Shot first in the schedule, this moment would come after Leia’s out-of-ship, in-vacuo experience. So now she was lying there in recovery, as Oscar, John, Kelly Marie and Threepio argued whether to mutiny – or not. I peered over at the cot, on the far side of the set. Was it Carrie? It certainly looked like her. But surely they wouldn’t have her asleep all day? What if she started snoring? Of course, it was a prop figure.

  So perfect, so still in its tranquillity.

  It was eerie.

  57 Carrie