Striking it Rich in Strange Territory
- 17 Apr 08, 02:53 PM
Posted from: Gold Mine, Grota Rica
Probably the hardest thing I've ever filmed. Bouncing about on the back of a dilapidated truck on a dirt track oddly described as a highway. We were on our way to a gold mine and filming a conversation between Bruce and Dudu travelling along the Transamazon Highway. Bouncing would be an understatement. Thrown around is probably more accurate. As the viewfinder drilled its way into my head, Bruce was on the ceiling and Dudu somewhere else. You get the idea.
The conversation was brilliant actually - but I didn't see much of who was saying what. In the back, Raquel, our Brazilian Assistant Producer, was considering spinal surgery and Sol, our Researcher, was beyond considering anything at all. Zubin lost his hat. The light was golden and reminded me of Uganda. The journey was merciless and then I felt sick. Bruce as always was wonderful and caring. He gave me a previously enjoyed sweet.
We arrived at the mine in semi darkness. All was shadowy and intense. The river ahead was dark. We filmed Bruce as we jumped onto the boat, and slowly moved off. I don't know what happened to the others. Bruce was locked to my lens as we passed dingy dark shacks and upturned trees. Lightbulbs peered eerily from behind makeshift doors. Figures moved. Bruce was Martin Sheen entering Kurt's outpost in Apocalypse Now. He didn't say much. He didn't have to.
This was strange territory. The dark river snaked ahead, the lights of a village dimly reflected - dancing with the fireflies. Quietly we landed and clambered up a muddy track. The sound of a huge generator welcomed us. Then another. As we turned a corner, we entered the film location from every old cowboy town from every old cowboy film ever made. The noise was rich with shouting, generators, distorted music from ancient speakers and the air thick with fumes, open lavatories, barbeques and the expectation of striking it rich.
We wandered about in a daze, our senses hammered. This was so much more rich and exciting than we could have thought possible from the river. Bruce and Dudu wandered about meeting people. James could already see his film, and looked around for more. Zubin looked for his hat.
We were guided to our accommodation, owned by a lovely lady called Russia. One could rent the rooms by the hour. We declined the offer of sleeping on the beds. An hour of carrying cases, food and water for our two-week stay saw us wearily trying to figure out how two people sharing a room could sleep without using the beds.
Hammocks were the only answer and led to the crew leading the way with a fantastic design concept. I borrowed an idea from a friend of mine and we slung the hammocks high, leaving a working space below with a wardrobe area next to it. It took a hammer and about thirty nails to achieve a concept that became the benchmark for the rest of the team. Around midnight, Zubin and I stood back and admired what can only be described as Perfection in a Bordello.
The boys' conceptual design
The girls next door did their best - but their concept needed time and they talked of flower pots. James and Bruce managed a tragedy. But Bruce had a secret weapon. A tent! Probably the most prepared man on the planet. We ate something disgusting from a bag, drank some whisky and retired. The lavatory was a hole in the ground - and we were in the highest risk of all high-risk malaria zones.
The girls are working on it
I left my ablutions till the morning when I could at least see the mosquitos. As I lay in my hammock above the bed with the ghosts of passion and broken dreams I hoped above all that the gold we found was not in the ground - but in the hearts of the people searching in this squalor to find it. I was soon to discover that Conrad was wrong. There are several Hearts of Darkness - and this was to be one of them.
James and Bruce have the 'master suite'
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