In
one critical scene, Jimmy visits a brothel called the Laughing
Lotus in search of his boss. It's located down a dark, covered
alleyway - a perfect set-up for a mugging. And in fact, after
Jimmy leaves the brightly lit brothel and passes through the
dark alleyway, he is attacked and beaten unconscious once he
emerges on the far side. Denault intended
to mix practical and set lighting to illuminate this scene, but
those flickering house lights needed to be fixed. He foresaw
one solution: the electricians could go down the street and rewire
everybody's house into the production's generator. But that chore
seemed too daunting. "I was looking for the magic bullet," he
says. "One of our producers, Nicolas Simon, was also a producer
on Cyclo [see AC Sept. '96],
and I asked him how they dealt with those driving shots at night.
He said, 'We had to rewire all of the lights on the street.'" Deflated, Denault realized
there was no way around it. In the end, he notes, "Scotty
Miller and Josh Van Praag, the best boy, had their work cut out for them. A lot
of the pre-rigs on this production were about rewiring whole
city blocks. We had a great crew, most of whom came
from Thailand. There's no way we could
have pulled this off as quickly as we did, and on such a grand
scale, without such an amazing team. Sprite, our dolly grip,
and the rest of the Thai crew were incredibly fast, always thinking
ahead, and very pleasant to work with."
Like
many of the night exteriors in City of Ghosts, the Laughing
Lotus setup would be very dark, punctuated by pools of blue,
pink and green light, reflecting the general feel of Phnom Penh
at night. "At night, nothing exists - there's no such thing
as available light," Denault remarks. "You
have a street that's lit by one 15-inch fluorescent light, and
that's it. You walk into a restaurant, and it might have a single
two-foot fluorescent tube. The popular color of fluorescents
there, called 'daylight,' has a bluish tint, so every place feels
blue and dim. The exceptions to that are the brothel interiors,
which have a lot of pink fluorescents." He adds that because
the brothels are flush with money, they also have an abundance
of lights.
Denault's main goal in lighting the Laughing Lotus
exterior was to "recreate that feeling of darkness. I wanted
the feeling of everything falling off into shadows." He
started by putting as many lights inside the neighboring windows
as he could. The covered alley itself was lit with only a single
small fluorescent. An off-the-shelf mercury-vapor light was affixed
to a utility pole in the street to light the action when Jimmy
is mugged. "The front of the building facing the entrance
to the alley was lit by an HMI Par from the roof across the street," he
says. "We gelled it to match the fluorescents that we had mounted on
the wall. This created some light at the end of the tunnel to
silhouette the action against. The trick was trying to keep something
in the background brighter than the foreground action and trying
to keep much of the frame dark. The most important thing we did
was put bright lights inside as many houses along the street
as we could, so that it looked darker on the street. The Cambodian
location person, Nuth Ly, was key in getting access to all of those houses."
Denault shot most of City of Ghosts on
Kodak Vision 200T 5274 and Vision 500T 5279, but for the mugging
scene he used Vision 800T 5289 and set his Cooke S4 lenses at
T2.8. The Laughing Lotus scene, like many of the film's night
exteriors, rides the edge of darkness, with a palette of pink,
green and blue punctuating the night. Enhanced by rapid cutting
and unusual camera angles - including a gutter-level POV shot
from Jimmy's perspective - the sequence has a nightmarish, disorienting
intensity. Denault was operating the
camera that day because A-camera operator John Pirozzi was off shooting second unit. "Matt said that's
when he knew I was really down with the movie: when I was lying
in the garbage with him," Denault recalls
with a laugh.
Throughout
the shoot, he adds, "Matt's eye was the unifying thing.
He is very good photographer; his eye is really alive. When we
walked into a place, he'd often point out something that I hadn't
noticed. It might have made the location scouting process a little
bit harder, just because he was looking for a certain thing,
but a lot of the film's look is really due to his taste."
Among
the film's locations were Wat Oudong,
the royal burial grounds and former capital of Cambodia; Phnom Chisor, an ancient Braham Temple; and the Bokor Hill Station, an abandoned casino built by the French
in the 1920s. Situated atop a cliff overlooking the Gulf of Thailand, the casino was a Khmer
Rouge stronghold in the 1970s; they fended off Vietnamese invaders
who scaled the cliff to do battle. Even now, the army's graffiti
and crude drawings remain on the interior walls - details left
intact for the film.
Remnants
of war that the filmmakers hoped were not still intact were the
landmines. These had been scattered on the grounds outside the
casino, where several scenes were to be shot. (Eerily, one such
scene depicts a prisoner's forced march through the minefield
and his explosive death). Even today, landmines kill two Cambodians
per day; not so long ago, the toll was 200 a month. "Cambodia has the second highest
penetration of cell phones, after Finland," notes Denault. "That's because it's so expensive to run wires
anywhere - no one wants to go digging in the ground or cross
fields that haven't been crossed."
In
fact, the cast and crew were advised not to stray from the established
path when filming outside the casino. At the same time, they
were assured that the grounds were safe; because it's now officially
a government park, the property had been swept for mines. Denault recalls, "Even
though it had been cleared once, we had it cleared again. There's
always this nagging chance that they couldn't have found everything.
Mines are really hard to detect. They're mostly made out of plastic,
and the amount of metal in them is about the size of a pen clip." Working
in the area was "the most nerve-wracking aspect" of
the entire production, he adds.
There
were other challenges as well: intestinal parasites; a bone-rattling,
two-hour drive up the mountain to the casino every morning, and
back down again at night; and the fine, red dust kicked up on
unpaved roads that got into everything, including a few film
canisters. But for all the hazards, the country cast its spell
on everyone. "It's so friendly and warm," says Denault. "I
was so sad when it was time to leave. As a culture, there's much
more of an emphasis on people instead of things, because they
don't have things. The environment is all about hanging out and
talking. When we'd scout locations, people would insist that
we stay and have something to eat. We'd look around and see that
there was nothing there, but they'd still insist - they'd share
their last thing with you. It was eye-opening."
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