Once the day's work commences at 11 a.m., the stage overspills with technicians, actors, carpenters, electricians. A scene is being shot just off the Fitz's stage, in a tiny room made up as Guy Noir's office. The theater's basement, too, has been transformed into various settings. It's as crowded as an ant farm. People are always squeezing by each other, carrying cables and props and big yellow trunks full of who knows what.
But when it's time to rehearse a sequence, the hubbub subsides. Seated maybe 15 feet from the actors, Altman looks at two video monitors. He likes to film with two cameras simultaneously, and the monitors show him the view from each. Two other monitors relay the same information to Ed Lachman, the film's veteran cinematographer.
The rehearsal begins, and as many as a dozen crew members crowd around the two sets of monitors. They watch as intently as the engineers at Mission Control during the shuttle launch. The chief lighting technician, the production designer, the camera assistant, the prop master, they're all there, whispering and pointing at the screens. They're looking for glitches, for things that never should make the movie -- the shadow of a microphone boom, an unwanted reflection in a mirror -- or just for things that don't look good.
This movie is being made quickly. It has a shooting schedule of 25 days, and Altman is finishing it a few days early (the day you read this, in fact). But even for the briefest scene, rehearsals and then filming can take hours. Altman maintains a stream of chatter to keep cobwebs from forming. He'll sing a few lines of "Don't Get Around Much Anymore," or ask an onstage musician how much a saxophone costs.
Peering at the monitor, the director takes a sudden dislike to a prop that is affixed to the wall.
"That dart board has been in every set of every movie I've ever made," he growls.
"We can put a deer head and antlers there instead," suggests a crew member.
"Or dogs playing poker," says another.
"We remember your request for that dart board," the first adds.
"That'll teach you something," Altman replies. "Not to pay attention to my requests."
Streep and Tomlin, who play the Johnson Girls, a midwestern singing-sister act, finished their scenes the previous week and are long gone. So, too, Lindsay Lohan.
Did we mention Lindsay Lohan? She plays Streep's daughter, who doesn't want to join the family business of old-timey music. The streets of St. Paul haven't seen so many paparazzi since Jesse Ventura got elected. "It's definitely quieter now," a crew member says with evident relief.
