CAMELOT Theatrical Special Effects

There is a long-standing argument between Yanks and Brits as to whether Reuben Lucius Goldberg (Rube Goldberg, 1883-1970) or William Heath Robinson (Heath Robinson, 1872-1944) was the originator of the ridiculous mechanisms that now bear each of their names on opposite sides of The Pond. It's possible that both men, and several other artists as well, independently conceived the concept of "unnecessary complexity" as a reaction to the technological tidal wave of the 1890s when machines took over the world. I just try to remember to say "It's a Rube Goldberg" when I'm in the States and "It's a Heath Robinson" when I'm in England.

These devices are compelling in their operation, not in their purpose which is always ludicrous. There are several annual competitions: the official and the Purdue University among them, which inspire inventors all over to come up with the least efficient ways of accomplishing a mundane task. The rules almost always require a minimum of 20 steps to do something that could normally be done in one; last year's winners at Purdue built a machine that required 125 steps to replace the batteries in a flashlight. The more steps the merrier and if they involve a parrot, a mousetrap, an eggbeater and an umbrella, that's typical.

I use the term "Goldberg-Robinson" to describe two theatrical phenomena. The first involves the plots/premises of the plays themselves which tend toward situation comedy in most cases: someone doing something simple is confounded by complications. If you are a theatre critic, you have an easy job: most plays are built around simple problems as viewed through the mind of, let's say, Cosmo Kramer of "Seinfeld." Take the play I'm in now, Frederick Knott's "Wait Until Dark." What are the most inefficient ways to get a man to give you back a doll or for a blind woman to call the police? No, asking him for it and dialing the police station are not among the options: you need to stretch that situation out to two hours involving three crooks, three murders, smashing all the lightbulbs in an apartment building, ammonia, lots of gasoline, a safe, several knives and a refrigerator. Goldberg and Robinson would be proud.

The second phenomenon usually occurs as a result of something I call "Midnight Engineering" when a gag just isn't working and the curtain goes up tomorrow night. This is when we live-theatre special-effects artists earn our money. In the motion-picture industry, the cameras stop rolling and money gets thrown at the problem until a team of engineers comes up with an answer. (Note: there is no such thing as the answer in special effects.) But in live theatre, the answer usually requires us to stay up late and rummage through the shop, garage and house at two o'clock in the morning looking for anything that might become part of what might make something look like what the director wants the audience to see. That's why "Geraldine," the ivory figurine concealing a stiletto in this show, consists of a plastic-cast doll sawed in half, a spring, a clothespin, a plastic gag knife blade, the hose adapter from a kitchen-faucet sprayer, nuts, bolts and lots of superglue. From the back it looks ridiculous. From the front, it actually caused several audience members to jump out of their seats and audible and soul-satisfying gasps.

The "Goldberg-Robinson" inventions were all about implementation with the result being obvious. The special-effect designer's world is all about result with the implementation, no matter how silly, being our little secret.

Now for the greatest Rube Goldberg-Heath Robinson effect ever created, here is an ad for the Honda Accord. You can believe your eyes: nothing here is CGI although many of the parts are gagged. The entire two-minute spot is shot in real-time and everything you see is done with actual Honda Accord parts (they disassembled two of them) and done in one take. There are no computer graphics or digital tricks in the film. Everything you see really happened in real time exactly as you see it. The spot took 606 takes. On the first 605, something, usually minor, didn't work so they had to set the whole thing up again. The sequence cost six million dollars and took three months to complete including engineering. What I love the most is that it's live theatre!

posted by C. J. # 3:48 PM