In LA for B5, Part 3

digresssmlOriginally published December 9, 1994, in Comics Buyer’s Guide #1099

Wrapping up my journal of my trip out to Los Angeles for the filming of “Soul Mates,” an episode I’ve written for the syndicated SF series Babylon 5:


Wednesday, Nov. 2. Activity on the set is usually in full swing by 8 a.m., but I run late this morning because I decide to bring in some rolls of film to be developed. I want to see how the pictures are coming along, since I’m using 400 film and working without a flash to try and be less “disruptive” (since I am now convinced that that one producer, who told me not to take flash shots, hates me.) I bring it over to the Beverly Center mall, to a one-hour film developing place. I then wander over to Brentanos Books to kill some time.

There, by staggering coincidence, I run into Blair Volk’s boyfriend, Vince. Vince, who’d seen me on the set snapping pictures, assumes that I’m the show’s official photographer, and is amazed to find out I wrote the thing.

Blair, who plays one of Londo’s wives, undergoes heavy make-up each day since Centauri women are bald (as opposed to the high-haired Centauri males.) Blair’s own hair is so long that the make-up folks wound up giving her a bald prosthetic with a small hole cut in the back. So she’s a Centauri woman who’s bald except for a long ponytail. Blair had thought she looked ugly in the make-up (she’d kept it on Halloween night and answered the door in it, freaking out neighborhood kids). But Vince had found the bald look on her genuinely attractive, which she considered a bit disconcerting.

Vince asks me to pass on a message to Blair: That he’s gotten the book she wanted.

Today they’re filming a sequence in the Medlab. Richard Biggs, who plays Doctor Franklin, is valiantly trying to get through a speech where I wrote that a patient’s “metabolism is deteriorating exponentially.” It may seem like nothing, but, when you’re standing there with a camera on you, a whole crew watching, other actors waiting on your cue, and then you have to deliver a line that has three five-syllable words practically in a row, it can be kind of daunting. Doesn’t help that during every walk-through rehearsal, the crew keeps commenting loudly, “Exponentially? What’s exponentially?” Math majors all.

On the one hand, I can’t help but think, “Hey, Richard, consider yourself lucky you’re not on Next Generation. Try wrapping your tongue around ‘There’s a geometrically escalating tachyon decay in the auxiliary warp generator.’” On the other hand, assailed by guilt since I hate to inconvenience anyone, I keep offering to come up with easier ways to say it. “No, no, I can handle it,” says Richard easily.

To some degree, it’s a matter of pride. Furthermore, it’s been drilled into the actors that what’s on the page is what gets said. B5 scripts are carefully crafted, and one never knows when a key phrase might show up again, or have major ramifications in the show’s five-year story arc. So it’s hands-off the wording, even if the one who wrote the words is standing right there saying, “Change it. See what I care.”

One of the actors spends a whole day in a coma. Great work if you can get it.

Yet another crew member sees my Lion King vest and asks if I worked on the film. “No, I bought it at Disneyland,” I sigh. Another disappointed look.

I go over to Blair between takes and say, “Blair, Vince got you the book you wanted.”

“Oh, good,” she says in her thick Yugoslavian accent (similar to Mira Furlan, who plays Delenn.) Then she frowns. “How do you know?”

Just to be a total creep, I flatten my voice into my best Hannibal Lecter monotone, and fix her with an unblinking gaze. “I know everything about you, Blair.”

“No, come on, really,” she says.

“Really,” I continue. My eyes are starting to itch, but I still don’t blink. (That’s how Hopkins did it.) “I sit outside your house all the time. I followed Vince, then I came here after I got bored.”

She’s looking at me real weird. Not worried, in particular. I know she’s got a black belt in karate, and, if she ever needs back-up, Vince is built like a Dodge 4×4. So she doesn’t scare. But she is perplexed. At which point I drop the act and tell her what happened. I had her going there for a while.

I resolve not to pull a similar stunt in the future, though, even if the opportunity presents itself. Stalking jokes don’t go over real big in Hollywood. Besides, it could backfire. I might really scare someone. Furthermore, if I’d tried it on, say, Claudia Christian, she’d probably just deck me to play it safe.

That evening is the season debut of Babylon 5‘s second season. In point of fact, the previous week’s episode was also a first-run: the cliffhanger “Chrysalis,” which got zero publicity since, I presume, Warners wanted to wait and make a big push for Bruce Boxleitner’s debut as Captain Sheridan, rather than Michael O’Hare’s swan song as Commander Sinclair.

Shooting is expected to run late, so arrangements are made to screen a tape of the episode, “Points of Departure,” in the conference room. Pretty much the entire crew is there. It’s fun watching a show with the crew, because they applaud all the names you ordinarily ignore. Richard Biggs stays for a little while, but the only cast member to remain for the entire show is Peter Jurasik (Londo.) The screening doesn’t start until about 8:30 p.m., although the on-air feed starts at 8 p.m. in Los Angeles. What an incentive. Come work on Babylon 5 and be the last person in your neighborhood to see the latest episode.

In addition to the new commander, there are new opening credits, and a new voice over the closing credits: Harlan Ellison.

Thursday, Nov. 3. Last day of shooting. By this point, a couple of the assistant directors are expressing amazement to me that I was patient enough (or perhaps they’re simply too polite to say “stupid enough”) to sit through an entire week of filming, with nothing to do—no function to perform—except watch them light the scenes and film them. They don’t believe that I was never bored, even though I wasn’t.

It can be very tedious for all involved. There’s a certain sequence of events. The director walks the actors through the scene. (If it’s early in the day, the actors are only in partial make-up, and not in costume. Today there are scenes with Londo’s wives, and I still can’t get over these three bald women in blue and white striped bathrobes. It continues to remind me of Schindler’s List.)

They then put “marks” (pieces of tape) on the floor, so that the actors know where to stand or where to move to. Then they light the scene while the actors finish getting into make-up and costume. Then they run a dress rehearsal through, one or more times. Then they shoot the Master Shot, which is a long, uninterrupted take. And then they shoot “coverage,” which is close-ups and reaction shots, and they have to reposition the camera and lights for every single one, which is why there’s so much waiting time involved in making a film.

I’ll bet that in the future, it’ll be very different. I think computer editing systems will become so sophisticated, that all they’ll need is the master take (or, at most, masters from a couple different angles). The editing systems will then be able to zoom in for close-ups, produce them without a diminishment of focus or clarity, adjust for light, angle, etc. I mean, why not? Perhaps it’s simplistic, but I can’t help but figure if they can work such computer wizardry these days with stuff that isn’t there—just imagine what they can do with stuff that is.

Jane Carr, who plays Timov, one of Londo’s three wives (getting to play a bossy, bald SF character just like her renowned former co-worker in the Royal Shakespeare Company, Patrick Stewart) is today filming her character’s first appearance in the show. Typical of the out-of-order production of most shows. Vir (Stephen Furst) is there to meet her, with security chief Garibaldi (Jerry Doyle) happening upon the scene. She makes her entrance, starts giving Vir lip, then looks at Garibaldi and says, “Who is this?”

When I’d been writing the sequence, I’d originally had Vir introduce Garibaldi—and then found I was stuck. I couldn’t come up with a snappy or interesting response for the wife, and besides, it slowed down the scene. So I backed up and had the wife look at Garibaldi, say, “Who is this?” and then, before Vir can get out a word, Timov promptly blows him off with a simple, “No, never mind,” and walks away, Vir in tow.

Factor in Jane’s clipped, British delivery, plus that she’s about two heads shorter than Jerry Doyle, and you’ve got the crew snickering wildly with every single take.

The producer who I’m sure hates me comes towards me, and I think, “Oh jeez, what’d I do now?” And he waves this paper in my face, an advertisement that had just been put together. It reports that in the overnight ratings, the season debut of B5 had jumped anywhere from 50 to 100% over the previous four weeks.

“That’s great,” I say.

“Having a good time on the set?” he asks.

“Fabulous.”

“Good!” And he goes off to show the banner to other people. At which point I realize that either he’s forgotten he hates me or—more likely—he never did in the first place and I, in my usual bizarre combination of insecurity and self-aggrandizement, had blown matters out of proportion. Nice thing to be eating my heart out over for a week.

I hang out at the special effects make-up, taking shots of Bill Mumy being made-up into his Minbari character of Lennier. I intend to use them for a slide show at upcoming conventions. A make-up guy spots my Lion King vest and asks if I worked on the film.

“Yes,” I say firmly.

“You did?”

“‘Hakuna Matata’—that was mine. I came up with that,” I tell him.

His eyes are like saucers. “Wow. Really?” For the second time in two days, I can’t keep up a fabrication. “No, no, I bought it in Disneyland.”

I think I’ll burn the dámņëd vest and be done with it.

The last scene to be shot is the most elaborate: a large, involved sequence in a banquet hall. The set decoration is fabulous. There is a portrait of Londo that’s got to be about 30 feet tall. Almost every principal character is there, plus several dozen extras.

There’s no margin for error here, because the episode must be completed today. It can’t be that, if they don’t get all the shots they want, they finish it up the next day. The next day it’s a different director and a different script. The pressure is all on director John Flinn. The actors contemplate staging an elaborate gag for the cameras (all falling down dead, one after the other). But, as it’s getting on towards 9:30 p.m., the “suits” are showing up to make sure that the production wraps on time. The contemplated gag is scrapped.

In the scene, a character is injured. Everyone is to react with shock and confusion, while Bruce Boxleitner toggles his comm link and barks, “Medlab, this is Sheridan! Emergency team, immediately!” Fade out, end third act.

Things are kept moving. Tension isn’t exactly mounting, but it’s palpable. No one wants to screw up. Difficult to keep loose in this kind of deadline tension.

Camera set up. Lights are set. Sound, film rolling. “Action!” shouts John.

The character is injured, goes down. Panic. Confusion. Extras are trying to crush forward to see what’s happened, major characters are trying to revive the fallen one, and above the shouts of consternation, Bruce hits the comm link on his hand and, in his best hero voice, bellows, “Medlab! This is Sinclair!

Dead stop.

The cast starts to howl. Bruce sags forward, his face in his hands. John Flinn comes from around the camera and starts to strangle Boxleitner. It takes about ten seconds for the full hilarity of the moment to spread outward, through the packed room, as everyone realizes that Bruce has just identified himself as Michael O’Hare’s departed commander.

Claudia and Jerry are both shouting, “Christmas reel! That’s going on the Christmas reel!” referring to the annual gag reel.

It takes a few minutes to get everyone composed. Bruce is shaking his head, saying, “I don’t know where that came from! I swear!” I don’t think he did it on purpose, although if he did, it was certainly well-timed, since things are a lot more relaxed after Bruce’s fluff.

They wrap filming, everyone applauds—

—And that’s it.

I have a plane to catch in a few hours. I hang and chat with people a few minutes. Claudia, like the assistant directors earlier, is amazed that I hung out and just watched for a week. “You must really be an incredible fan,” she says.

I am, in a sense: a fan of the process that takes the stuff I put down on paper and turns it into a TV show that will be seen in millions (God willing) of homes.

And, if nothing else, for those fans who always ask, “Are you going to be writing something for Star Trek on TV?” I can now reply, “No, I’m too busy writing for Babylon 5.”

See, I’ve got this idea for another episode…

(Peter David, writer of stuff, has just found out that his episode has been moved forward in the running order. It’s the seventh episode of the season, to air starting the week of December 12. Check your local listings.)

17 comments on “In LA for B5, Part 3

  1. Jeffrey Synclair, John Sheridan , Joe Strascynski (spelling?)… J.S. , J.S. and J.S. coincidence? I do not think so.
    .
    John Sheridan is my favorite lead character in any Sci-FI series.I love B5 and it is a shame the telepath war storyline was never shown in TV, a movie or books (hint, hint). The final book of the Bester trilogy gave us some clues but a lot is still in the air. In my opinion your Centaury trilogy was the best of the three followed by the Technomage trilogy.
    .
    You also wrote Gray 17 is missing, right?
    .
    Is there a chance that you can share some pictures from your visit to the set?

    1. No, the J.S. initials are no coincidence at all.

      And yes, Peter wrote another B5 ep, but not “Gray 17.” It was “There All the Honor Lies.”

      1. I’d assumed that was sarcasm – ‘G17 is missing’ is considered by many to be the worst episode of B5 ever filmed. Even JMS (who wrote the episode) has admitted that episodes like G17 are what happen when you commit to writing an entire season single handed…

        I think both PAD’s episodes of B5 were just spiffing 🙂

      2. The episode was ringing a bell in my head and I thought it was because PAD wrote it but now that you mentioned the “worst episode” comment I remembered that is why it was ringing the bell. Apologies to PAD.

  2. I forget most of the time that your Centauri trilogy wasn’t filmed, Peter, so strongly does it color my memories of B5. Those novels really gave the show something special after the “end” of the story in film. Is the third book of that trilogy still going for $50+ online?

    Thanks for posting these old columns. They’re great to read.

  3. I always found it odd that they would air the last few episodes of one season for the first time right before the new season’s episodes. It reduced any talk if the “season ending big moments” to a week. There was no summers of “how will they get Picard back from the Borg?” or “who is the blonde Romulan?” like TNG had.

    1. I also found it odd, but REALLY liked it. I loathed those end-of-season cliffhangers that Trek kept doing. I had friends that refused to watch the episodes until just before the next season started because they refused to wait months for what was basically the second half of and episode.
      .
      In B5, the next seasons events usually picked up right after the events of the last season. It was nice to have happening with air times as well.

  4. Was it in a “Things I wish I’d done” kind of column that you mentioned a line of dialogue that you would have liked to have Peter/Londo speak?

  5. On an off topic and sad note, I was looking at the website of Aggiecon which takes place not five miles from where I’m sitting. I can’t attend except perhaps for a few hours on Saturday as I’m a tax accountant and taking even that much time off right now is problematic. The guest of honor was going to be Dwayne McDuffie…
    .
    Actually he’s still the guest of honor. Based on what I read on the site, the organizers didn’t want to remove that honorific from Mr. McDuffie’s entry. It’s sad but educational when things like this point out that life is fragile and you have to do what’s important now because it could all fall apart tomorrow.

  6. I seem to recall reading JMS saying that he was pretty sure Bruce had muffed the take on purpose, to take the heat off Flinn with the suits — once it was blown and they clearly *had* to go overtime, the pressure was eased.
    .
    Anybody else remember seeing that somewhere, or am I going crazy? (Not that the two are necessarily exclusive, of course.)

    1. Not sure about JMS saying that, but Peter definitely did as part of his introduction to the episode in the Other Voices script books.

      1. That’s probably what I was thinking of, then, since I have those books on my bookshelf. Thanks.

  7. This ep was one of my favorite from the entire season. It never fails to make me laugh in all the right places…and to worry a bit for Londo.
    Jane Carr was AWESOME. I wish we got to see more of her.

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