ACHIEVING verisimilitude
Since his days working with Steven Bochco on "Hill Street Blues," Gregory Hoblit has strived for verisimilitude when it comes to telling stories about the law. "I want to make it right," he says plainly. "I want to get all the cop stuff right, the courtroom drama, the law. Over the years audiences have become sophisticated and they know if you are playing fast and loose with them, or not."
Obviously laws are different in every state, but the filmmakers took great pains to be authentic in their depiction of the action. Not only is Hoblit experienced in crime drama, producer Chuck Weinstock is himself a "lapsed attorney" who worked as a lawyer under Mayor Koch and Mayor Dinkins in New York City. The filmmakers also relied on the services of attorney Bob Breech, who previously worked for Hoblit on the popular series, "Hill Street Blues" and "L.A. Law." According to Hoblit, Breech has "great story sense."
"Bob knows the law inside and out," says Hoblit, "and he understands how to get the best out of a scene dramatically while attending to all the legal aspects at play."
"The politics, the etiquette of the courtroom, it's all very complicated," says Ryan Gosling. "Bob was a big help."
The filmmakers also took advantage of technical advisor Peter Weireter, a chief hostage negotiator with the Los Angeles Police Department, and his colleague Sgt. Lou Reyes, who helped with several of the opening scenes. While the filmmakers did take some license, Hoblit is quick to point out that bending some rules can work, but only if filmmakers take care not to go so far as to do a disservice to the profession being depicted on screen, which in the end, does an even greater disservice to the script.
A major focal point in the film is the Rube Goldberg-like machines, big and small, which adorn Ted Crawford's home and office. These brass and wood pieces serve as dramatic metaphors for the story as well as for the intricate workings of the sociopath's diabolical mind.
Writer Glenn Gers came upon the idea of using a rolling ball machine in the story while playing with his five-year-old son who likes marble mazes. The marbles roll through a labyrinth of confusing tracks only to come out in unexpected places.
According to several versions of Webster's dictionary, a Rube Goldberg machine is a device that "accomplishes by complex means what seemingly could be done simply;" or something "having a fantastically complicated, improvised appearance."
"These toys, along with the stunning piece of machinery that's Crawford's GT Porsche, even his house, they are all reflections of his personality and his inner wiring," agrees Gregory Hoblit, likening Crawford to a surgeon or Swiss watch maker.
On the written page, the mention of a Rube Goldberg-like device requires the reader to call upon a vivid imagination, but it is an entirely more complicated endeavor to recreate such an apparatus for practical use. No computerized visual effects here.
"It's always best when you can find an external sign to show the inner person," says Gers, "but when I wrote the paragraph, I never really imagined the complex machine they would have to build. When I saw it on stage, I kept apologizing to the guys who had to build it," he laughs.
Producer Chuck Weinstock and production designer Paul Eads began the search for any kind of gadget that might fill the bill by scouring the Internet. To their amazement, they discovered a variety of clubs and rabid fans all over the world whose hobby it is to design and build their own adaptations on Goldberg's theme.
After long examination and discussion, the filmmakers settled on using Dutch artist Mark Bishoff's sculptures as Crawford's work. It had taken Bischoff, a music teacher, over ten years of loving labor to complete his intricate rolling ball machine.
"His work was stupefying," says Hoblit. "To think he worked after giving cello lessons all day to create the caliber of piece he did, with the size of the tracks, the quality of the wood, the complexity of the pieces, all of us sat in my office, looking at his video, oohing and aahing. But then the question became 'how are we going to get something that big out of his basement and across the Atlantic?'"
"We asked him to send us some samples of the rings, the balls, anything to use as a template," recalls Weinstock. "He acted as a consultant through the manufacturing and assembly process. Whenever we had questions, he was there to help."
The filmmakers and Bischoff reached an agreement in which Bischoff would furnish the movie with his designs in order to construct a smaller version of his much-admired piece. The artist even sent the production a small table-top piece to borrow for the shoot.
Executive producer Hawk Koch hired special effects coordinator Larz Anderson to build several configurations of Bischoff's designs. Anderson and his team were honored and excited to step outside the normal realm of their duties of pyrotechnics, explosives and mechanical effects to build the 8-foot sculpture along with a same-size "stunt double" version. Together with Eads they designed the kinetic brass sculpture and its wooden base to compliment the dynamic architecture of Crawford's unique house.
The large sculpture measures 8 feet high x 8 feet wide x 2 feet deep and uses two 12-volt electrical motors operated via remote control. The manual desktop version is about 14 inches x 32 inches x 12 inches wide.
"Working on this project was like being a kid again," reports Anderson. "Everyone wanted to contribute their ideas. It's not often you get asked to build a giant puzzle. It wasn't an easy piece to move, especially once it was assembled, because it weighs about 250 pounds. But the hardest part was keeping people from touching it and playing with it or taking the balls once it was on set."
But no one could keep Hoblit, his cast and crew from spending long breaks between set ups, staring at the rolling balls as they made their way through the intricate maze.
"Greg would stand in front of any of those machines, start watching and that was it," jokes executive producer Hawk Koch. "I'd say, 'Come on, Greg, we have to work,' but he couldn't move. The machine has its own kind of rhythm; it lulls you into a meditative state. It's pretty amazing."
Hoblit imagined a giant erector set when he first read Gers' description in the new script, but even he was unprepared for the beauty and immenseness of Anderson's creation.
More Production Notes:
THE ORIGINS OF FRACTURE CRAFTING THE SCRIPT THE MALE LEADS THE LEADING LADIES SUPPORTING CAST FILMING FRACTURE
