NOVEL NEXT Chapter 7.5: Rapid Fire
Chapter 7.5: Rapid Fire.
Leavesden Studio, UK. January 2002.
[The three actors playing the Dursleys sat around the dining table eating their food. Fiona Shaw, who played Petunia, fussed over Harry Melling as Dudley, who was eagerly scarfing down the food that had long since gone cold. I was in the kitchen area of the set, pretending to fry some greasy bacon.
Richard Griffiths, reprising his role as Vernon, cleared his throat. “Now, as we all know, today is a very important day. We should all be in position at eight o’clock. Petunia, you will be -?”
“In the lounge,” said Aunt Petunia promptly, “waiting to welcome them graciously to our home.”
“Good, good. And Dudley?”
“I’ll be waiting to open the door. May I take your coats, Mr. and Mrs. Mason?” Melling recited, sure to spray out crumbs of unswallowed food. Fiona as Petunia lovingly dabbed him around the mouth.
“Excellent, Dudley. And you?” Griffiths’ tone suddenly became disgruntled and aggressive.
“I’ll be in my bedroom, making no noise and pretending I don’t exist.” I kept my back turned while fiddling around with the pan. My speech was flat and toneless to convey that this wasn’t the first time we were having this conversation.
Right on cue, the loud recorded bark of Hedwig’s owl was played over the speakers.
“Third time this week!” Griffiths complained to me when I reached his side and scooped more fried meat onto his plate. “If you can’t control that owl, it’ll have to go!” He continued as I moved on to the others, setting Fiona’s portion, then Dudley’s last.
With the plate emptied, I went to my mark at the counter where Harry’s breakfast was placed, two slices of toast and some lukewarm tea. Far smaller and away from the Dursleys. I picked up the slice.
I kept my voice even, but let just a little pleading slip out “She’s bored, If I could just let her out at night -“
“I want more bacon.” Dudley interrupted me obnoxiously.
I stalled the untouched piece of bread near my mouth. Looked incredulously at Dudley, then at Petunia. “Get the frying pan.” She sternly commanded me to make more food.
I sighed, lowered the toast but still held on to it and irritably said my line. “You’ve forgotten the magic word,” I affected Alan Rickman as Snape and curled my lip in distaste.
Just like in rehearsal, the three were flawlessly in sync. Dudley gasped and fell off his chair. Petunia gave a small scream and clapped her hands to her mouth. Vernon planted his hands on the table and made to get up. “I warned you!”
Petunia placed a calming hand and made Vernon sit back down with a grumble. With a rude jerk of her head, she tossed me out. “Don’t you dare threaten Dudley!”
Not without my toast, I left through the back door. A secondary camera on a jib followed my path. I crossed the fake lawn and stood at my mark. I snorted through my nose, my face still in a frown. I Considered the toast I still held, after a moment I ripped it in two. One half went into my pocket, the other I shoved into my mouth. This was my own improvisation.
I looked offscreen to where the bush with Dobby’s eyes peeking out would be, and jolted in surprise. Just then Dudley’s jeering voice floated across the lawn, “I know what day it ~” he sang tauntingly.
My stare didn’t deviate from the bush. “Finally learned to count the days of the week, have you?” I sassed back.
Dudley scrunched his face in anger, waddled up to me Today’s your birthday,” sneered Dudley. “And none of your freak friends even sent you a card!”
I clenched my jaw, but ignored his bullying. In the original adaptation, it was actually Harry who’d confided in the Dursleys about his worry - which really didn’t make any sense given their dynamic.
“Why’re you staring at the hedge?” he said suspiciously.
Dobby would disappear at this point, so I shifted my eyes to Dudley with my most unimpressed front. “I’m trying to decide what would be the best spell to set it on fire.”
Dudley panicked and stumbled back. “You c-can’t - Dad told you you’re not to do m-magic - he said he’ll chuck you out of the house -“
I fully faced him, hunched over slightly, and menacingly began wiggling my fingers. “Abra cadabra! Nitwit, blubber, oddment, twea-!”
“Mum!” howled Dudley while racing back to the house.
Petunia rushed to the door and swung it open. Dudley crashed into her and tattled on me. She swaddled him, shot me a venomous glare and slammed the door shut.
“Happy birthday to me….” end scene.]
Leavesden Studio, UK. March 2002
The first set renovations completed were the Diagon Alley extensions. Namely the Borgin and Burke’s interior as well as Flourish and Blotts.
The entire Weasley cast was on set for the first time, as were Emma, Felton, and I. Jason Isaacs was also here with his platinum wig. “Let’s get this done in one take, shall we, old boy? I don’t quite fancy multiple tussles.” He joked at Mark Williams, who was the actor for Arthur Weasley.
Mark air boxed, “I wouldn’t want to wrestle with me either!”
We got the Lockhart autograph and photo shoot scene done. Given the amount of takes for it, I was certain that Kenneth Brannagh had hugged me in this life more than anyone else - which was a little sad to think about.
We successfully shot the Arthur versus Malfoy fight scene and quickly moved on to the post Knockturn alley rescue scene.
The entire time we were filming all the Diagon Alley scenes, something was niggling at the back of my head.
[Covered in grime and soot, I hurriedly ran into the pleasant-looking street of Diagon. Spotting the familiar forest of red hair just barely poking above the milling crowd, I pushed my way through to them.
Julie Walters, noticing that I’d elected to use a more scared portrayal this take, immediately clued on and adjusted her own performance. “Harry! Where have you been?!” she rushed forward herself and tightly swaddled me in an embrace. What a pro!
Feeling another set of arms scrabble around my frame “Are you alright?” Emma was clearly taking lessons from her co-star and was improvising well too.
I smiled involuntarily. “I’m fine.” This wasn’t acting as much as a genuine response, but Chris liked it a lot, so I’d chalk it out as a win.]
It was only after the Diagon scenes were done did I realize what was bothering me. They’d swapped out Bonnie Wright as Ginny. They looked similar enough initially that I hadn’t quite made the connection - but as the scenes carried on, it became apparent they weren’t the same person.
I saddled alongside her at the catering table during lunch. “Hey, I don’t think we’ve formally met yet. I’m Bas.”
She dropped her sandwich onto her plate and wiped her hand on her shirt. We shook hands. “Oh, um, I’m Karen. Karen Gillan.”
Now… wasn’t this interesting?
Durham Cathedral, UK. April 2002.
Karen’s role and involvement as Ginny became even more apparent when I found out we’d be doing the Valentine’s day scene in the great hall.
[Heart-shaped confetti rained down over us. I wiggled my head to shake it all off, showering Emma and Rupert sitting on either side of me. ‘Oi!’ ‘Harry!’ They each protested loudly.
“What’s going on?” I peered around the pink stained Great Hall.
“Happy Valentine’s Day!” Kenneth Branagh as Lockhart flamboyantly shouted from the teacher’s podium. “I thank the forty-six people who have so far sent me cards! Yes, I have taken the liberty of arranging this little surprise for you all - My friendly, card-carrying cupids!” Lockhart clapped his hands and through the doors to the entrance hall marched a dozen house-elves. “They will be roving around the school today delivering your valentines!”]
In an act of foresight I hadn’t predicted, the production team had correctly assumed that wider audiences wouldn’t agree with the actual humiliation of little people. It was only appropriate when they were being paid to get made fun of, apparently.
So instead of having dwarves dressed as cherubs handing out valentine’s cards, they’d switched it to Hogwarts house-elves via post production VFX.
The same three and four-foot actors who’d been previously hired to portray the goblins were hobbling around in gray bodysuits. Everyone of them had been employed through Warwick Davis’ company Willow Personal Management. Supplying short supply work for those with shorter stature since 1995.
I’d gotten acquainted with Diane Gibbins, too. She’d done the motion capture for Dobby.
[“Please, Hermione, tell me you weren’t one of the forty-six,” said Rupert as Ron. Emma feigned innocence and began digging around in her bag, avoiding eye contact, and didn’t answer. The rest of the Gryffindor students sat around us on the table began jeering and elbowing each other teasingly.
“Oy, you! ‘Arty Potter!” shouted a grim-looking elf, dodging around milling students to get to me. I locked eyes with Karen playing Ginny, with a beet-red face, squeaked and avoided my gaze. “I’ve got a musical message to deliver to you,” the elf said while threateningly waving a piece of pink parchment at me.
I grabbed my bag, turned on my heel to escape, and hissed, “Not here!”
Right as I reached my mark, the short actor tackled my knees and knocked me over. “Stay still!” I landed hard on the discreet mat blended with the floor. I dropped the bag and all my school props, wand and Riddle’s diary included went spilling out.
“Let me go!” I snarled. The actor ignored me, sat on my legs, cleared their throat and began reciting the poem.
“His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad…” By this point, the various students had formed a loose circle around the central action of the scene. Two cameras were trained on us. One for the artsy aerial shot for those sweet cinematography points. The other zoomed in on the central players in the scene, including me scrambling on the floor like the loser in a wrestling match.
Thankfully, this take didn’t send my wand out of reach, and I was just able to palm it.
“Causing another commotion, Potter?” Felton in Draco mode alongside his posse stepped into the circle. Draco stooped low and snatched the diary. “Can’t cry to mummy so you write in here instead?” was the vicious taunt.
Ron stepped forward and brandished his broken wand. “Hand it over, Malfoy,”
“When I’ve had a look,” Felton lazily swung the book back and forth. I knew in the background that Ginny would be terrified and hypnotically tracking the diary’s movement. Eagle-eyed movie goers would likely catch it, and I’m sure more than a few YouTube videos would be made on it down the line, too.
“Give it back. Or I’ll call a prefect!” Hermione also spoke up in support of me and bolstered Ron.
I glanced up at him and a sea of unfriendly laughing faces (since Harry’d already been outed as a parselmouth). I waited for the camera to finish panning and reach its final destination. When it did, I acted losing my temper, knocked over the actor on my legs, hopped back on my feet and jabbed my wand “Expelliarmus!” ]
“Freeze!” the director Chris Colombus ordered.
The scene and all the actors froze. A simple trick to maintain visual continuity. A stagehand ran over and replaced the prop diary that Felton was holding with one that was on a fine tether. Movie magic wasn’t the same as the real stuff.
“Places and Action!” we returned to our roles.
[The book was yanked out of his grip in Rupert’s direction. Ron caught it with a “Wicked!”
With an aggrieved expression, I hurriedly stuffed all my spilled belongings back into my bag, shouldered through the ring, and made my exit out of the scene. My two little minions stumbled in tow while squawking their lines.
Draco sneered at a fresh target. “I don’t think Potter liked your valentine much!” Ginny covered her face with her hands and ran.]
None of this was in Kloves’ original script. In fact, Ginny, as a character, always felt like an afterthought for him. But in this rendition of Chamber of Secrets, the end foreshadowing would be done with greater justice, rather than a few throwaway lines and scenes near the conclusion of the movie.
Maybe it’s too early to count my chickens, but I hoped this also meant I’d avoid that horrific shoelace scene that belonged in the cringe hall of fame.
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