Shooting 007: And Other Celluloid Adventures (44 page)

Winter was fast approaching, bringing the usual shorter daylight hours. The Christmas of 1991 would soon arrive with the film industry entering its annual hibernation period, so the last thing I was expecting was a phone call from America with John Glen inviting me to join him on a new film in Tucson, Arizona. I hardly had the time to answer John’s question before Suzy, listening-in to this ‘private’ conversation, decided she would join me on the trip. How could I say no?

While the film
Iron Eagle
III
passes quickly from memory, the name Tucson and its association with the famous Western films of the past would quickly capture my imagination, knowing that this would make a fitting end to this personal account of my life and career. Filming would start after the Christmas festivities were over and the production manager greeted us at the airport with a broad smile on his face.

John Glen lining up a high-angle shot. These days manned cranes are increasingly rare, with remotely operated camera heads having become the norm.

‘Alec, welcome to America where Christmas celebrations are shorter than in the UK!’

Hello America, I thought to myself, recognising that the tone in his voice suggested that he was not particularly smitten with English technicians or it seemed our way of life. Possibly the poison still lingered in me after my
Jedi
experience, which unfortunately would continue throughout our filming.

With John spending Christmas in Los Angeles, there would be little point in hanging around town where the unit was based, so – short holiday or not – we hired a car and drove 200 miles north where Suzy and I enjoyed Christmas in Arizona. Our journey started with a gentle climb towards the mountains as we headed for the Grand Canyon National Park, where we had our first sighting of a light dusting of snow as we passed through Phoenix. The snowfall steadily increased as the road climbed higher towards the sky. Finally we arrived at the canyon, by which time the conditions had turned into a blinding snowstorm.

We quickly found our hotel before moving into tourist mode; with only two days to view the canyon in all its glory – truly an unforgettable experience – our short stay would be spent taking pictures of the surrounding magnificence from every possible angle and enjoying our first visit to an IMAX cinema.

An unusual snap taken just as a Japanese Zero makes a low pass while filming in Arizona.

Before Suzy returned to the UK we had time to visit Tombstone – cowboy country! To be honest, this would be the highlight of my trip to the States, where film aficionados and historians remember Tombstone as the town where the ghosts of the famous gunfight at the O.K. Corral reside in the cemetery and where gullible tourists like me are reminded of Wyatt Earp and Doc Holliday’s confrontation with the Clanton gang – now embarrassingly portrayed by a team of stuntmen trying to recreate the moment while demonstrating how bad they can be at acting. Strolling down Main Street, we passed the saloon bar, the brothel (now closed), the Bird Cage Theatre and the old barbershop, not forgetting the shabby hotel or legendary Crystal Palace saloon. Sadly, the sounds of gunshots in the background were missing, as were the sounds of a badly tuned honky-tonk piano coming from the saloon bar … youthful images coming to mind as I wandered down memory lane of Hollywood’s history of the Wild West. A visit to the outlaws buried in the notorious Boot Hill Cemetery was interesting, and there I paid my respects to the villains whose past had contributed much to the entertainment of my young years – R.I.P., lads!

I would love to go on reminiscing about past cowboy history but memories soon turn to sadness – perhaps dwelling on past history is not such a good idea, after all. Even so I enjoyed the experience of filming in Arizona, which sadly would end in disappointment with
Iron Eagle
III
receiving mixed reviews at best, as usual due to a poor script and stereotyped characters – possibly one sequel too many? Yep, best to leave it there, I reckon.

Louis Gossett Jr, Paul Freeman, Horst Bucholz and Christopher Cazenove were the names hanging around town on
Iron Eagle III
, while the producer’s actress wife Rachel McLish would take the female lead. Christopher and I had worked together before on
Eye of the Needle
, and the film also provided another chance to work with my old friend Mitch Ryan, a fellow survivor from the awful
Hunting Party
experience in Almería.

Had
Iron Eagle
III
been my last contribution to the world of cinema then Tombstone, with all its flashbacks to my younger days – I am a dreamer, after all – would have been the perfect location to end my career. However, there was one more episode still to come, leaving me grateful for one last picture before my retirement – a word never to be mentioned in my script …

Returning to the UK with little expectation of any more films being offered, my intention was to relax at cliff-top house, near Saunton Sands in north Devon – our home by the sea and the perfect setting to consider the aspects of my life which so far were little more than scribbled notes. I was busy at the time so I had jotted them down, planning to fill in the detail later. This would not happen yet: my reliable old friend ‘coincidence’ reappeared, resulting in a strange sequence of events which led to the unexpected offer of a television series.

It all began with a phone call from Jimmy Devis, who mentioned that Al Burgess, a colleague from the past, had also bought a house in nearby Croyde, where it would seem we were now neighbours. I phoned Al, suggesting we meet up for a drink at the local inn, but he was busy setting up a television series on which he was the associate producer so it would be more convenient if I saw him later that day.

The ‘coincidence’ I refer to came after my call to Al; apparently his cinematographer Norman Langley phoned withdrawing from the production,
Moving
Story
. Of course doubting voices will say that this was just a coincidence or just plain lucky that I called Al at that time. Perhaps it was; on the other hand, it would be easy to say I was lucky enough to be in Devon in the right place at the right time, over 200 miles from our usual home in Buckinghamshire. I would also doubt that my name would have been in the frame to take over from Norman when Al first started looking for a replacement.

I realise this question of fate or destiny – call it what you will – is difficult for many to accept, but what they see as nonsense somehow works for me. As a young man I too was an unbeliever in such things and quickly passed them off as coincidence; later in life I would have reason to think more about all the incidents which occurred at key moments without reason or explanation. In any event, I suddenly now found myself working on another television series…

Moving Story
, written by Jack Rosenthal, told the story of a group of removal men led by Warren Clarke who played the character Bamber, so-called because he was a mine of useless information and was not slow to bore his colleagues with his knowledge. It was a nice enough series which eventually ran for a couple of seasons, but as it continued I realised I could no longer ignore the fact that the energy which had served me well in the past was noticeably on the decline. In all likelihood this was the moment when I first accepted the possibility of my retirement. There – I had finally admitted it.

With
Moving Story
soon to end, the intention was to retire in the promised land of Devon, but again that would not happen. John Glen had other ideas in his personal script, which obviously differed to mine …

Settling down in the calm of retirement, I was mindful not to record any past experiences, both at work and in private, in a way which might be seen as exaggerated. Over the top they are not, although I will admit to taking a little licence here and there to keep the reader’s interest, at the same time quietly acknowledging my personal beliefs. To some the experiences will appear strange, or even laughable to others. I understand that, but my life could never be dull working in an environment with such exciting people around me, actors and technicians alike, who all played their part in my interesting journey through life.

This brings to mind an interesting lady I first met while we were filming in Budapest, an extraordinary spiritualist going by name of Mari Deseõ. I sat there spellbound, listening to this lady’s broken English, taking in everything she said. It was a casual, friendly conversation and not preaching in any way; nor was I brainwashed, but what she did say would leave me with ideas which would change my life in an extraordinary way. I would not recognise the effect of this conversation until later, when a series of coincidences would now make me remember that past experience, which is where I leave this issue …

In humility, I can say that I enjoyed a successful career even if I was lucky to survive my personal disaster on
House of Secrets
, which I still have every reason to believe was a lesson I had to experience if only to succeed in the end. Sadly Harry Waxman and Guy Green were no longer around to help me achieve my goals, both having moved on to pastures new, but writing of my past experiences would help me in the transition from an exciting working environment to the slow unimaginable boredom of retirement, where it would be easy to switch off and disappear into emptiness. The computer also helped in no small way but only with the help and expertise of my wife, whose hair became greyer by the day as I tested her technical patience.