Battered, Bruised and Frozen.

Today a handful of Hessians, along with some Continental forces and a strong showing of Britsh arrived early at the Howell Farms in New Jersey to film segements for a New Jersey Network (NJ PBS) show about the battles of Trenton called 'Ten Crucial Days'. It was fuck-all cold this morning when we arrived, and the wool outfits are surprisingly inefficient in such cold weather. My feet were actually getting numb until I broke down and put on my spare pare of hose.

Filming started off easy, just a bunch of marching shots. The script we were given actually said we should be marching 'Arrogantly, yet confidently' - Oooh-kaaay. Anyway no real problems.

The next shot had us Hessians bursting out a farmhouse in disarray and surprise. We would struggle, some would get hit and go down. The remainder would surrender to a pack of Continental troops that would advance. The trouble here was that the farmhouse was full of junk that made it a near deathtrap. Piles of firewood, and a sleigh. with a huge mounting bar. It was dark, and we had to cram ourselves in with loaded muskets (some of us, anyway). Then we had to burst out of a normal sized door to meet fate. This was, perhaps, an accident waiting to happen, and it did. One of our numbers didn't notice the sleigh's mounting bar and tripped over it. He fell and hurt his arm, being unable to get up and in a lot of pain. Mark and I went outside to get some medical help, it was a long time in coming. I stood outside, alone facing a confused camera crew, Continentals, and assorted tourists watching the filming while a couple of folks with EMT training went in to help. I figured it would be best to stay out of the way. But I felt real naked. Having to do something I went over the to Contintental line and told them what had happened so they could stand down while the problem was resolved.

Eventually, he was taken out for some treatment (when the abulance arrived). and the film resumed. We set and order to exit from the building. My role was to be confused, and holding my Mitre. I would put it on, try to cock my musket and take a hit. We did the first take, I took the hit and went down hard against the full barn door, which was free floating. The guy on the other side who had given us out cue was almost knocked over from my impact.

This being a movie, there were several takes. Each time I did the same thing: Run out, put on my Mitre, try to cock my musket, and take a hit, then slam against the barn door and slump to the ground. I don't die light, I got down hard and realistic as I can. I ended up with bruises on my thigh and chest.

We did some more filming assaulting a small creek bridge. Then we went to lunch - probably one of the poorest catered lunches I've had on one of these filmings. A cup of soup, some bread, and a bag of potato chips. Oh and a soda or water. Pretty slim. It wasn't bad soup, but it was a bit limited fare.

Afterwards we did some more fighting scenes, and I took a hit on one, falling to the cold, hard bridge. I lay there as a casualty until cut was called but then they wanted some close-ups of the casualties. So I lay there with my eyes closed as the cameraman went over us verrrrrry closely. The ground was very, very cold.

So here I am, wind burned, sun kissed, bruised, slightly thawed, and dazed. All this for a TV documentary this will be coming out in 2007, if it isn't cancelled.

Somehow, the end of this blog entry needs to be "and what?! Give up Showbiz?!"