WAR OF THE WORLDS Cast Diaries

H.G. WELLS' THE WAR OF THE WORLDS

THE WAR TO END ALL WARS

THE MOVIE VERSION OF H.G. WELLS' CLASSIC NOVEL "THE WAR OF THE WORLDS"

A PENDRAGON PICTURES PRODUCTION.

PRODUCED BY SUSAN GOFORTH

DIRECTED BY TIMOTHY HINES

THE CURATE (JOHN KAUFMANN).

ANTHONY PIANA AS THE WRITER

JACK CLAY AS OGILVY

Wow!

Wow! is the right expression for WAR OF THE WORLDS. Working with Tim Hines was an exciting experience. He is consumed with filming this story, and doing so in its Victorian context rather than in a diluted modern adaptation. Tim's vision, his passion, his commitment, and astounding energy were career highlights for me. I loved working for him and only hope my performance half measures up to his inspiration. He is, of course, wonderfully supported and encouraged by the radiant Susan Goforth, who believes with equal passion in this WOW project. The mounting excitement over the appearance of the film is well founded. I can only say, wow!

H.G. WELLS'

THE WAR OF THE WORLDS

CAST DIARIES

Pendragon Pictures presents the major motion picture, H.G. WELLS' THE WAR OF THE WORLDS, produced by Susan Goforth, directed by Timothy Hines.

STENT (DANIEL SOMERFIELD), OGILVY (JACK CLAY), & HENDERSON (W. BERNARD BAUMAN)

TAKE IN THE AMAZING SIGHT OF THE MARTIANS IN THE PIT ON HORSELL COMMON.

Fans of Classic

Sci-Fi Movies

Will Love This Film!

ANTHONY PIANA AS

THE WRITER

Looking for Lawrence

“See that ridge about 200 yards away? I would like you to start off camera right -- running and making your way to the top of that ridge -- and run down off camera left. This is going to be a ‘Lawrence of Arabia shot’, can you see it? The light is just perfect- so let’s do this!” -- Director Tim Hines says with a gleeful anticipation of capturing the shot of the day --

My Victorian dress shoes slip busily on baked cracked dirt from the 90-degree day. With excitement and wool flapping from my period three piece suit, I begin an anxious jog. I make my way to off camera right -- the base of the ridge. Emotionally I prepare, recounting the moments before, the terror of seeing these foreign creatures emerge from the pit, the horror of the incinerating heat ray. My friends, neighbors, local townspeople taken in a swift passing -- men on horses, children on bicycles -- all vanished before my eyes. The smell of burning heather and clothes -- the broken state of flight I have taken on foot leading me over this ridge now…

The Assistant Director gives me the “go” sign. Images of camels and Peter O’Toole race through my mind as I approach the incline. I approach what I’ll shortly find is a steep hill --

DARLENE RENEE SELLERS

AS MRS. ELPHINSTONE

"So vain is man, and so blinded by his vanity . . ."

How fortunate I felt to discover a project with so many giving people. Cast and crew was all lovely, good natured, down to earth folks dedicated to creating a true-to-book rendition of the H.G. Wells story. Refreshing.

One particularly enjoyable day, we found ourselves subject to the elements. Director Timothy Hines was wise enough to recognize that the weather refused to bend to his will, and he kindly sequestered the talent away to the safety of our trailers. The gifted Hair and Makeup crews had performed miracles that morning in transforming us into our Victorian representations, and so we found ourselves somewhat limited in our choice of entertainment. The brother, the quintessential perfectionist, dedicated himself to his studies. Meanwhile, Miss Elphinstone and myself occupied our time with trimming newspaper hats. We had just settled the radio dial on Bach (having considered the Clash, the Doors, Johnny Cash and P.Diddy) and discussed a kettle for tea when we were called to the set. Despite our collective insistence that filming needed to resume, the skies opened up and the downpour began. Out came the umbrellas, and the first to be covered was not the director. Nor the crew. Not even the investors. The initial umbrellas went to the cameras. Subsequent bumbershoots went to the talent.

BELOW: THE WRITER LISTENS INTENTLY TO

OGILVY DESCRIBE THE ERUPTIONS ON MARS

Losing the Light

Day one of shooting. Scene (Writer collapses from exhaustion) -- parched lips -- sun beaten back -- knees that have passed there prime -- walking through a golden field of wheat -- oxblood suspenders hang from tattered wool -- catching my eyes from rolling back -- with a unseen slip, then fall -- back laid out on a bed of straw and dirt -- one last flash of horror from events left behind -- then darkness." And cut,” Director Tim Hines says in a brisk voice, which I’ve come to anticipate. Crewmember voices drift in and out. The moving of the camera -- a different angle -- losing the light of the day, I lay still for the final close up -- eyes closed and slowly fall into a dream.

“I need you back at the top of the ridge.” So I make my way back to the ridge, through the unforgettable kisses of the thistle -- on top once more. “Okay I need you to step your way towards the camera until I say stop” – then and there lightning hits. I am the first person to have now conquered the “Ridge." From 200 yards away I reply to Tim -- “I can’t do that” -- “Okay step down towards your right then,” replies Tim. “I can’t do that.” “Anthony I just need a shot of you coming towards the camera.” “Tim, I can’t do that.” “What do you mean,” asks Tim, wondering how to communicate from afar -- “There is nothing in front of me or in back of me, just cliff.”

Thankfully I was understood with much laughter and grinning smiles -- not only did we get our shot -- our light – and story linked -- we ended the day with a great deal of joy -- I would come to find that most of our days would conclude in the same manner.

clawing with hands -- gripping with knees. I remember Tim painting our late afternoon “beauty shot” of me gliding over the ridge, unbridled, like a stallion with open field ahead of oneself. As I find footing with thorn-like plants and loose rock, I asked myself briefly if Tim or anyone had ever walked to the top of this ridge, all the time knowing my main goal is to get to the “Ridge”. With scuffed leather and sweat I make it -- make it to the now “holy ridge” -- which is 2 yards in length and 1 yard in width -- without hesitation I must complete my run off camera left --

With now a new drawn terror -- I slide down the opposite incline into the awaiting arms of a thick, dense field of thistle bushes. They wrap themselves and tug at my wool not to go -- finally off camera – “and cut!” I can hear in Tim’s voice we got it -- we got the picture we all strove, shot-by-shot, to capture throughout each day of shooting --

experimenting with long periods of solitude, as Wells had done with his main character -- then finding the chaos and bustle of the metropolitan streets as refuge.

The Actors Instrument -- my voice, body, emotions, and imagination now would start their journey. I was now prepared to uphold the demands of making such an epic film, as well as acting out the attention to details which the novel, the fans and Director Tim Hines demanded. These events, actions, and undertakings would then lead me up to my first day of shooting -- regardless if it was a war against daily fatigue -- a war against losing the perfect light -- or the war of bringing Wells’ words to a physical incarnation -- we had after several months finished filming the first ever adaptation of H.G. Wells’ 1898 novel ‘The War of the Worlds’ -- that is something I will always remain proud of…

Herbert and Me

The text, this is where I take my first step. This is a time were I must get out of my own way and read my script over and over until the spine is as flexible as fresh taffy, constantly finding my openings, my way to the Writer. An actor is a detective.

Who was H.G. Wells? I read about his childhood and early parental influences that would come to shape his world -- occupations he flirted with and how he found his way to becoming a writer -- lovers and wives -- his attempts at not only understanding Great Britain, but mankind itself -- catching insights of his own personal habits, oddities and reactions he had to his surroundings. But fascinating above all was his ability to foresee man’s eventual achievements and breakthroughs, as well as the forthcoming destruction that would take place -- and how this would change him as a writer. I would spend days walking the country sides of England --

RIGHT: ANTHONY PIANA AS THE WRITER

JOHN KAUFMANN

AS THE CURATE

We were filming a scene where The Writer and I find an abandoned house. Inside, we find some food and hide from the Martians. Just as we’re eating our first real food in days, the house begins to shake and the roof suddenly caves in on us. To get the effect, there were complicated and elaborate mechanical effects on set. These would be combined with CGI and miniature enhancements. Amongst the variety of set special effects, were devices that were designed to dump mountains of debris into the scene.

Naturally, this made me a little nervous.

Tim had everything set up, and they had practiced where the debris would fall. It was one of those scenes you wanted to get right. “You’re sure they won’t hit us?” I asked Tim. “You might get hit with a stray piece, but it won’t hurt,” he promised. “I don’t want to get hit with any rocks,” I said. “They’re not rocks!” He said. They’re lighter than that. He could see I was still a little skeptical, but he was focused on getting the shot. “Here!” Tim said from above, grabbing a chunk of debris. He held it a few feet over my head and dropped it. “Did that hurt?” “Kind of!” It wasn’t a rock, but it wasn’t Styrofoam, either. “You’ll be fine!” He said. “Let’s shoot this!” Any fear you see on the screen in that scene is genuine. Maybe that was Tim’s plan. That was when I realized that Tim wouldn’t ask me to do anything dangerous in a scene that he didn’t first test out on me in advance. For the record, I didn’t get pelted at all in the scene.

My character, the Curate, in response to the Martian invasion, has developed a rather complicated set of psychological dysfunction, amongst which is a kind of an eating disorder: When he’s frightened, he deals with it by eating. Well, when you’re trapped in a house surrounded by Martians, you’re pretty much frightened all the time. So I would eat anything I can get my hands on. The longer we were in the house, the more pathological my eating became. We had a scene where I’m eating this big brick of moldy cheese. It was Camembert or something, I think. During the scene, I would just stuff my face until I could feel it oozing between my teeth and I was drooling cheese down my chin, and we’d finish the take and I’d call for the cheese bucket, so I could spit it out (I guess it was sort of a cheese-spittoon). It’s hard to understand what somebody is saying when their mouth is full of cheese. It sounded more like “shhesh bushie!” But they knew what I meant. I don’t know that I’ll ever crave Camembert again.

MRS. ELPHINSTONE (DARLENE RENEE SELLERS) AND MISS ELPHINSTONE (JAMIE

LYNN SEASE) LOOK TO THE SHORE AS A MEANS TO ESCAPE THE MARTIANS.

"One of the ladies, a short woman dressed in white, was simply screaming."

Eventually the rain ceased and we found ourselves at the "Sea Near Tillingham" preparing to film the Brother and Miss Elphinstone dragging the hysterical Mrs. Elphinstone down to the shore. Moments before the camera rolled, the director addressed the three of us, "Mrs. Elphinstone firmly believes the world is over if you leave England. The Brother and Miss Elphinstone realize the world is over if you don't. Make it real, be careful." The Brother kindly and characteristically answered, "Don't worry Tim, we'll keep Mrs. Elphinstone safe." "I'm not worried about her," joked the director, "But the costume is vintage." Of course. Camera first. Costumes second. Cast third. The scene was carefully rehearsed, Miss Elphinstone and The Brother are pros, and I count myself very fortunate to have had the experience to perform stunts in a number of previous projects. Our struggle down the hill, though highly emotional, was very controlled and entirely safe. The condition of the costumes on the other hand, required constant vigilance. Each piece was painstakingly researched, acquired, and built to be accurate to the book. Wells was very particular about the white dress. It needed to stay white. It deserved second billing.

"'Point the revolver at the man behind,' he said, giving it to her, 'if he presses us to hard. No!--point it at his horse.'"

The crew traditionally has all sorts of pet names for the cast. My personal favorite is "Show ponies." Oddly enough, on this project, one of the most important cast members was in fact, a show pony. Or rather, a show miniature horse. Robbie, the actor portraying the Elphinstones' pony "Ruffian Stew," was absolutely brilliant. By the end of his first day of filming, we all wanted to take him home. Ironically, during the mass exodus from London, Wells infers that a horse was more valuable than the rider. True to the text, on his days of shooting, the pony was the most revered talent on set. So to review, Camera. Then pony. Then costumes. Then cast. Quite right. Unless of course you're considering Robbie's stunt double. Robbie did the majority of his own scenes, but there were times when Joseph was called in and hitched to the cart to pull the three actors.

"Every soul aboard stood at the bulwarks or on the seats of the steamer and stared at that distant shape, higher than the trees or church towers inland, and advancing with a leisurely parody of a human stride. It was the first Martian my brother had seen, and he stood, more amazed than terrified, watching this Titan advancing deliberately towards the shipping, wading farther and farther into the water as the coast fell away."

And then of course we must consider the Tripods. After all, the Martians and their technology are probably the most famous characters in the project. During the filming of the Thunder Child sequence, I was much relieved to have read through the novel twice, and to have been properly acquainted with the art departments designs for the walking machines. For on this particular day of filming on the paddleboat, the terror of the Martians was portrayed to us by green screen, cue flags, green poles, and the director's flailing right hand in the air accompanied by his exclamation, "Here comes the Martian. Be afraid. Show me fear. Ulla!" No one disputes that Tim is a talented director. His skill at eliciting true responses from his actors is immediately obvious. His dedication to recreating the fighting machines exactly as Wells described them is almost disturbing. His flailing right hand however, is not, nor will ever be, scary. Thank goodness for the magic that is CGI and miniatures.

"Spray blinded my brother for a moment. When his eyes were clear again he saw the monster had passed and was rushing landward. Big iron upperworks rose out of this headlong structure, and from that twin funnels projected and spat a smoking blast shot with fire. It was the torpedo ram, THUNDER CHILD, steaming headlong, coming to the rescue of the threatened shipping."

On my last day of filming, word reached set that another production of The War of the Worlds had been announced. We were undaunted. "What we're doing," Tim explained, "is the book. And that has never been told. Well's himself would be pleased with the footage we have. From day one, we have refused to compromise." Like the Thunder Child itself, Pendragon was proving to be the torpedo ram determined to take on the massive alien machinery that is big budget blockbuster moviemaking. So despite the talent of the producers/directors/actors/artists/crew/and pony - I came to realize that the true star of the film has always been, and will remain, the original Wells story.

"UNHAND THOSE LADIES YOU BRUTES!"

THE CURATE (JOHN KAUFMANN) GROWS SUSPICIOUS OF THE WRITER WHILE

TRAPPED IN THE COLLAPSED HOUSE BURIED WITHIN A MARTIAN PIT.

JAMES LATHROP AS

THE ARTILLERYMAN

I developed the character of the Artilleryman initially out of my own military experience, drawing upon my memories of being activated for desert storm and serving in Saudi Arabia at that time and the mix of emotions that always brings out in me. As the Artilleryman enters into battle for the first time he is young and outwardly confident, but is quickly broken down as his fellow mates are violently killed all around him. Overall there is a wonderful arc to the character of the Artilleryman. He moves from the utter shock and horror in the massive destruction he sees all about him, to finding strength in teaching the writer how to survive, to finding a resolve in surviving in the world under the complete domination of the Martians. In the resolve of war and survival the Artilleryman never gives up, even as he loses his own perspective.

I also drew from another close-to-home experience when my brother was called into active service for both the recent Afghanistan and Iraq operations. Before he deployed to Afghanistan he wove me a bracelet out of two 5 foot lengths of parachute survival cord and melted the ends together so they are fused permanently together on my wrist. It has kept me in constant reminder of all the troops deployed everywhere – the soldiers who are in the face of constant danger and far away from their families. I’ve been wearing that bracelet constantly for the past two years, and I still wear it today.

I spent a lot of time trapped in a caved-in house with the Writer. The set was amazing. A perfect replica from the descriptions in Wells' story, with many breakaway and hydraulically operated sections. But, in it's collapsed state, it was designed so that we literally couldn’t stand up inside. That’s where I got to know the Writer quite well. He has to use force to keep my character from devouring all our food rations. And of course it’s an interesting challenge staging realistic and frightening fight scenes in such a space. It’s quite intimate, really. After each day of filming, it took some time to stretch out our legs and get used to walking upright again. And for a while it would be strange relating to the Writer as upright bipeds. We really did get a little stir-crazy in there.

Tim got so excited when he first saw me in costume. I remember him saying, “It’s The Curate!” As if it defied the laws of physics that I was really standing there. I came to realize that Tim was living two lives as we shot the film: that of an adult, professional filmmaker, calculating lighting, blocking scenes, directing actors, and that of a giddy boy who had somehow been transported into a world where the characters from his favorite storybook had magically come to life. He was so thrilled to be living in this world that it his enthusiasm was deeply infectious.

I trusted his direction during the filming because it was clear that his knowledge of the Curate went beyond the book. Tim himself had read many books on the subject of Wells' inspiration for the characters. His depth of research in preparing for the movie was staggering. But that's not what I'm referring to. To Tim, these characters had lives of their own, and he’d had conversations with them, followed them around, ate dinner with them. In all the years he’s been a fan of the book and dreaming of this project, I’m sure there was always a part of him secretly living in the world of Wells' book. I think he was thrilled that he could return the favor and invite all these characters into his world.

"What are

these Martians?"

ABOVE RIGHT: THE CURATE (JOHN KAUFMANN).

BELOW RIGHT: THE ARTILLERMAN (JAMES LATHROP).

THE FIRST AUTHENTIC MOVIE ADAPTATION

OF THE 1898 H. G. WELLS CLASSIC NOVEL.

THE FIRST AUTHENTIC MOVIE ADAPTATION

OF THE 1898 H. G. WELLS CLASSIC NOVEL.

Fans of Classic

Sci-Fi Movies

Will Love This Film!

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