Monday, February 18, 2013

Lights, Camera, Kugel!

The Faux Kugel
It's always an honor to co-star in an Oscar-caliber short, especially one a son of mine directs.  The youngest is majoring in film at the tiny liberal arts college in beautiful Burbank.  On Sunday, he called on a devoted cast of untrained actors to carry the entire movie... all 60 seconds of it.  Naturally, I made a list of demands.  A luxury trailer, a makeup artist, a wardrobe bitch.
The director and his able assistant 
"Not happening," the director said, shooting down my requests. "I'm sensing this is a low-budget situation?"  "You're catching on."  The SJG provided my own costume, makeup and even handled props.  The kugel in question wasn't a real kugel, but a strange mushy hybrid I threw together.  Butter, eggs, milk, noodles, raisins.  When I stuck it in the oven, one section started to rise and bubble in a freakish, lopsided manner. I removed it just moments before it took the oven hostage, and flattened it with a spoon, like a good kugel master.  Then we took our places. Hubby on the sofa.  The SJG off-camera.  The eldest outside at the door. And action!  "Can he ever be on time?" hubby said.  Cue the SJG.  "The kugel's ready!" I said, in a whiny voice.  Then we paced and crossed to the window, per the director's instructions, to show our mounting agitation.  Ding dong!  Hubby answered the door.
The Uninvited Scottish Warrior 
In stormed a crazed young man in costume, wielding swords.  "I'm Robert the Bruce!" he yelled. "The re-inactment's next door," I said. Then he swore at us, in weird made-up Scottish, and retreated. "Schmuck!" hubby called after him. The End. All done in a single "locked" shot.    

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