Continued from Part One:
On January 6th, after I left Sacramento, Eric & Gloria took part in massive scenes shot at an old train station with 150 extras. Good thing I missed it – they wrapped at 1 AM. Having already worked two days exposed to the elements from dawn till dusk, I would’ve been a basket case had I taken that third day. Because production was behind schedule, a fishing village scene to be shot on the coast was cut back; my services as a fisherman-extra were no longer needed. Instead I was given a haircut and fitted in a 1940s suit for a scene at the Japanese Tea Garden in San Francisco’s Golden Gate Park.Day Three: Money For Nothing
On January 12th at 6:30 AM, we were shuttled from the Presidio to our base camp in the park. This was a far more civilized setup than our muddy outpost at the American River: large heated tents with plenty of tables and chairs, on paved level ground. Plus the usual all-you-can-eat hot breakfast, cooked to order.
As in Sacramento, the extras were a mix of ethnicities: Japanese, Chinese, Korean, even Filipino. One old man was oddly costumed as a fisherman with a sort of grass apron; his unique job was to be filmed before a green-screen throwing a net. This shot would later be composited into another shot (presumably aquatic). Yeah, go figure.
At last the sun returned; that necessitated a crane to hold an immense black screen to prevent hard shadows on the actors. Still, it was cold and damp; my feet were so chilled in my ancient wingtip shoes that I had to bake them in front of a propane heater; first one, then the other, till the leather began to steam. Wearing a hat was not an option; that would’ve spoiled the hairstyle they gave me. Because so many scenes were scheduled that didn’t involve me, I spent the whole day waiting and was never used at all; we simply ran out of daylight. At one point we spotted Ken Watanabe (The Chairman); having only seen him before in The Last Samurai, I almost didn’t recognize him with hair on his head.
Bundled in my trenchcoat by the heater, I chatted with my fellow extras about Arthur Golden’s novel, the peculiar casting of the film, and what a starring role for an Asian-American actor might look like – a riddle that stumps people I ask every time.
It seems that few Asians have read the book, which should come as no surprise, really. The lives of geishas & dannas don’t represent typical male-female relations in Japan any more than pornstars represent Westerners. Asian activists have denounced Memoirs of a Geisha as an Orientalist Cinderella tale that perpetuates sexist & racist stereotypes. Despite the novel’s air of authenticity, I think it’s very telling that Mineko Iwasaki, Golden’s primary source, sued him for defamation, and that the teahouses of Gion have closed their doors to the filmmakers:
http://www.helloziyi.us/Articles/japanese-on-geisha.htm
http://www.hoashi.com/memoirsofageisha/
Yet among the extras you’d seldom hear a discouraging word; stage-struck wannabes don’t have the luxury of doubts about collaborating in their own oppression. I noted little concern about the fact that the three main female roles were being played by non-Japanese; the common assumption was that a $100 million movie requires big names – and Chinese stars are currently more famous here than their Japanese counterparts. Typical Hollywood logic. The authenticity issue may not be so inflammatory in Asian countries anymore; it’s not uncommon for actors to play other ethnicities in movies there, just like in the West. Personally I'll be impressed if the Chinese actors pull this off. What they're trying to do in Memoirs is like Jennifer Garner playing a Frenchwoman in Arabic. Good luck.
As for how Memoirs might affect the careers of Asian-American actors, that’s another matter entirely. Hollywood is cashing in on stars from overseas playing the usual stereotypes. Any trickle-down effect for American-born Asians will likely be minor at best. The laughably absurd Last Samurai relieved me of any illusion that Hollywood might someday “get it right” for us. In my opinion, creating an original leading role for an Asian-American actor demands imagination beyond anything the corporate media octopus is capable of. As a writer, this conundrum is my Rubik’s Cube.
Day Four: Double Duty
I was asked to return the next day as a stand-in, this time for Thomas Ikeda (playing Mr. Bekku, Sayuri’s dresser). It was another damp, chilly, gloomy morning in this idyllic setting of ponds, arched wooden bridges, and exquisite Japanese gardens. Totally Zen, totally freezing. At a pagoda I waited by the heaters with Madison (Ziyi Zhang's stand-in, an actress based in L.A.), watching Rob Marshall prepare a scene involving a rickshaw crossing a bridge. When it became obvious that I wasn’t even needed for this scene, I was returned to the holding tent. Because we had many other scenes to shoot first, they asked if I’d dress up and be an extra for a while. That sounded better than doing nothing – until I changed into the costume: a kimono, tabi socks, and sandals – definitely not winter wear. Once again I had to park myself by a heater, alternately warming my hands and feet between takes.
While waiting, I got acquainted with Laiman, Gloria’s brother-in-law, also from Sacramento; and Eli, a strapping Korean-American hunk chosen as the rickshaw driver for Ziyi and Michelle Yeoh (Mameha, Sayuri's mentor). Eli radiated the cool machismo of black & Latino dudes – it was ironic to see him of all people in a coolie hat, pulling a rickshaw. But he took it in stride and seemed unashamed of appearing in this film. For me, it was a job (just when I needed one): stand here, walk there, come back, wait, do it again. The 2nd A.D. had to tell us extras to quit walking like Americans (i.e., casually sauntering, arms swinging). You could say we had to “walk with a Japanese accent”.
Lunch was better than ever; the buffet included lobster ravioli, roast turkey w/stuffing, king crab legs, a full salad bar, and cheesecake for dessert. Had my kimono not been belted so tightly, I would’ve gorged myself. I was very eager to change back into my own clothes, for warmth and easier pee-breaks. A few hours later, my wish was granted, and I became a stand-in again, clad in my trenchcoat, beret, gloves, and thick rubber-soled shoes. Ahh.
While I snacked at the craft services table, young Chiyo & Pumpkin were filmed running to geisha school. Late in the afternoon, preparations began for a scene at the Baron’s Estate (the Tea Garden entrance). Three 1930s luxury cars were brought out, including a Pierce-Arrow and a Maybach SW 38; extras were nattily dressed as servants and guests in both Western & Japanese garb. The last minutes of daylight were used to film the arrival of Sayuri & Mr. Bekku.
After sundown, Madison & I were summoned to sit in the Maybach with a chauffeur for a green-screen shot. Since I was again taller than the actor, I slouched to compensate. I chatted in German with Klaus, the car’s very protective owner, who told me it had been flown here from Germany just for this film and would soon be sent to Japan for more exterior shots. Valued at half a million dollars, this car was a restoration project of the Wilhelm-Maybach-Schule in Heilbronn: http://www.wms-hn.de/news/aktuell/maybachgefuehle/index.htm
Because the car’s 70-yr. old windows had permanent streaks, they were rolled down for the shot – moving reflections would be added digitally, along with the background, a bamboo forest. When Ziyi was filmed in full geisha drag, peering out in wonder, she was a sublime spectacle of exotic glamour. It was impossible not to stare. To simulate motion, crewmen behind scrims waved panels to cast shadows on the car, and another man jostled it, using a long 2x4 as a lever. After several takes, we were wrapped.
I was actually relieved not to work on the film again last week in Saratoga and Muir Beach. As you see, filmmaking is a world of sharp contrasts: luxury and discomfort, pressure and tedium, beauty and ugliness, brilliance and stupidity. And though I hesitate to bite the hand that feeds me, I do sniff it suspiciously. Had Memoirs of a Geisha been made seventy years ago, the stars most likely would've been white actors in yellowface; so you could say there has been a sort of glacial progress. Yet the studios here and abroad continue to traffic in stereotypes for unwitting audiences. Memoirs could well be a huge popular success, with moments of heartbreaking splendor. But is this the kind of mainstream visibility Asians in America have been hoping for? http://www.bol.ucla.edu/~tiffloui/love.htm
What century are we living in again?
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