We haven't had one of those absolutely wonderful (and unique) on-board safety videos from Air New Zealand for a while, so let's correct that. This one is titled, "Bear Essentials of Safety" -- and it features Bear Grylls, here taking you on his own adventure to help make your flight as safe as possible.
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Last week, I wrote about and posted here a spectacular in-flight safety video for Air New Zealand, "The Most Epic Safety Video Ever Made" that was an extension of The Lord of the Rings I noted that the airline has a history of making wonderful and elaborate air safety videos, including several others based on Middle Earth. Here's a second of those Middle Earth safety videos. It's not as near-operatic as the original, but great fun on it's own -- and would stand out even more if it wasn't for the "Most Epic" one that was, indeed the most epic. A while back, I posted a video that I titled, "The most epic safety video ever made." But that wasn't my name that I gave to the little film, it was what Air New Zealand called their own video. And the thing is -- it is. It turns out, though, that Air New Zealand has a history of making outlandish, funny and extremely wonderful safety videos. I've tracked a bunch of them down and will post them here in the coming days. But first, as a reminder, or for new people to these pages, before we get to the others, I thought it best to repeat that original video. So, here is it is and the article I posted about... "The Most Epic Safety Video Ever Made." * * * And no, that is not hyperbole. In fact, the video itself begins by saying on-screen, "The most epic safety video ever made." And it's being low-key and polite. To be fair, "Epic," in this case, is sort of a tongue-in-cheek reference, as you will see. But it's nonetheless epic in the generally accepted sense, as well. This is far and away like no in-flight safety video you've seen, or likely will ever seen. It's so far away that everything else is in third place. Just leave second place empty. And, honest, that's not an exaggeration. The in-flight video is for the safety explanation aboard Air New Zealand flights, and...well, let's just say as a reminder that New Zealand is where they filmed The Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit trilogies. And we'll leave it at that, and let your imaginations take over.. There are twists and turns here, and a lot of tongue-in-cheek fun, and some surprises. And further, when is the last time you ever saw credits at the end of an in-flight safety video? As a safety video, I'm going to guess that patrons aren't going to be paying the closest attention to what's being told them, which probably isn't ideal. On the other hand, a) most people by now have a pretty good idea of the safety procedures on an airplane, b) in some ways, people are going to watch this much closer than the regular in-flight safety videos they zone out of, and c) this is going to be see FAR more by people who are not on an airplane, so there's no risk of going down in the water. Which brings up the other point. Beyond being the Greatest (and Most Epic) In-Flight Safety Video Ever, this is also a brilliant promotional video for the next film in The Hobbit series. If I had the opportunity to bet all my cash money, it will go viral around the world, if it hasn't already. However much it cost, there will be no need to buy TV air-time (which is so expensive), and you wouldn't anyway, since it's 4-1/2 minutes long. Maybe they'll cut down a 30-second version, but it's really not necessary, and it won't do it justice. This is so wonderful and so smart. Just a brilliant idea, and whoever came up with the idea deserves a major promotion and bonus, and hats off to all the people on both sides of the aisle who approved doing it. So, here, then is the most epic in-flight safety video ever made. Really. No, really. As I always have tried to do on my more recent trips to Chicago -- since I now stay with relatives who live in Evanston, just blocks from the beloved Northwestern University -- I like to walk through the campus which has retained its charm on the shores of Lake Michigan, but added serious construction over the past couple decades. A bit too built up in some areas, in my taste, but with incredibly impressive additions in other areas. (Particularly in the theaters arts and music areas with new stages and performance halls, and also in athletic facilities on the landfill.) To be clear, this body of water is not an inlet from Lake Michigan but a lagoon they built on campus a while back. You can make out Lake Michigan right behind the trees. But this lagoon plays a fun part in family history. Back when I was going to NU in the School of Speech (now Communications), I took a Communication Studies course, and for reasons I don't remember, one day the professor took the whole class down to the lagoon to practice projection. (It wasn't a performance class, so I really don't recall at this point why we were doing this, perhaps to expand our awareness of the use of the voice or...oh, I don't know.) But half the class stood on one side of the lagoon and the rest on the other shore. And for decades after, my father who still be bemused by this and said, "So, just to be clear, I was paying tuition so that you could learn to yell across a lake..." For what it's worth, I thought it was sort of silly at the time, too, though I enjoyed the rest of the class. But that didn't matter. It was always "That class where you yelled across the lake." But hey, as long as we're down by the waterfront, I thought I might was well also include of my buddies who joined me for part of the walk. Anyway, I bring up my walk for another reason entirely, for a reason that will likely mean absolutely nothing to most people, but it was a big deal to me. Over the past few years, as I mentioned, I take this walk through the Northwestern campus. And each time, there's one place I always make sure to stop at -- there is a museum on campus, and I always want to see it. I don't mean I "always want to see it again", I mean quite literally...I always want to see it. At least once. But every single time I've been on campus, the Block Museum has been closed. Either that was the one day it wasn't open, or they were closed for lunch, or they were closed for renovation, or they were closed to put in a new exhibition. Whatever the reason, it's always been closed. Always. So, I've never seen it, and it looks very nice, and has a good reputation for a small museum on a college campus. But this year ...are you ready? -- it was OPEN!!! O joy! I told the receptionist how thrilled I was to finally get in, and explained why. She laughed and said, "Yes, we do seem to close a lot" -- but really, she was just being polite. They don't close that often, just often enough when I'm there. Alas, they only had one exhibit, but when I rolled my eyes at my timing again, she said, "Oh, no, it's a good one." And it was. "Caravans of Gold, Fragments in Time: Art, Culture and Exchange across Medieval Saharan Africa." It look at the Trans-Saharan trade culture from the days of antiquity, how the gold and even salt were such major factors in the area, and how historians and archaeologists have been able to put the past in perspective, often from only fragments. It wasn't a deeply-extensive exhibit, but respectably comprehensive, and very well presented, along with interesting video interviews of archaeologists talking about the area and this exhibit. It will be traveling to the Aga Khan Museum in Toronto this Fall -- and to any folks reading this in Washington, D.C. (and yes, this means you Nell Minow, who I know not only lives in the area, but even went to the beloved NU briefly, and we had a class together -- but she transferred to be with her longtime boyfriend who is now her longtime husband. But I digress...), the exhibit will be there in the Spring of 2020 at the National Museum of African Art which a part of the Smithsonian Institution. The exhibit got a lot of funding, but notably some came from the Buffett Institute for Global Studies. Yes, it's that Buffet, but only in being the same family. Not Warren Buffet, but his sister Rebecca Buffett Elliott who went to Northwestern and about two years ago gave the university a massive donation for that Global Studies institute. And when I say "massive," that's not hyperbole. It was $101 mlilion. Mainly, I love the extra "$1 million" so that it wasn't just a flat, dull $100 million... Anyway, I finally made it to the Block Museum on the Northwestern Campus. All is well... Just a few cherished memories of and inside Notre Dame Cathedral looking out over Paris from photos I took on a family trip around 1966, .Even as a little kid it was enthralling to approach and wander through, and the sense of history could be felt in every nook. I wish I had more pictures and better ones, but I'm glad for the ones I do have and even more grateful for having been there. And, having been a kid, I'm just glad they're framed well and in focus.
I've been seeing billboards and TV ads for a few weeks now promoting the remake of the movie based on Stephen King's novel Pet Sematary. They've caught my attention more than most remakes since (during my early, dark days when I was a kid and didn't know better and did movie publicity) I was the unit publicist on the original film of Pet Sematary. I'm not quite sure why they feel a remake is needed so soon after the first one -- it's not like it comes from another era, mind you, but 30 years ago in 1989 -- but they do, and so be it. One notable difference between this new version and the original, which is why I'm glad I worked on that one, is that the original had a screenplay by Stephen King himself. And since we shot the movie in Maine, not far from where he lived -- which was in his contract that we film in the state -- he visited the set periodically. We didn't talk a great deal, but did on occasion. And since I was always wearing my Cubs hat and he's a well-known Boston Red Sox fan, that always served as a good conversation opener. Our conversations, though not many, actually lead to probably my favorite story. Of any story I've ever told. My brother John was a bit of a curmudgeon. He hated things that were popular. (Once, when he came to Los Angeles for a visit, I asked if he wanted to go to Disneyland. When he said no, I asked why not, and he said, "Because I'm afraid I might like like it.) On the other hand, his wife loved reading books by Stephen King. She would ask John to read them, but no way in the world would he read a novel by Stephen King. Even if he had the time in the middle of his medical practice, Stephen King wasn't just a popular novelist - he was probably THE most popular current novelist in the world. Stephen King would not be read. But she didn't let up. And finally, John - the good husband - gave in. Okay, one Stephen King book. He read Firestarter. And he loved it so much that he finished the book in two days. Probably hating every moment that he liked it so much. Well, as fate would have it, not long after that, I was hired to work on Pet Sematary. As I said, when, Stephen King would visit the set we'd generally talk about baseball or (of course) the movie, since I was also interviewing him for the production noes I was writing on the making of the film. One day, though, I said I had a funny story for him, that I thought he would appreciate. I told him about my brother. I said he hated anything popular. I explained how my sister-in-law couldn't get my brother to read his books, specifically because they were popular. I went into great detail about who John was, and why the last thing on earth he wanted to do was read a popular Stephen King novel. And then I explained that John finally broke down, read Firestarter -- and absolutely loved it. Loved it so much that he finished it in two days. Now, you must understand, this is the Best Possible Reaction that any writer can ever have. It's one thing to be praised by fans - but it's something else entirely to have someone who is so deeply predisposed to hate your books that he's fought off reading them for years finally read one and love it so much that it's devoured. Stephen thought for a moment after being told all this, trying to figure what to say. It was clear he felt wonderful by John's reaction - which is pretty impressive, considering all the acclaim that Stephen King has had in his renowned career. And then he leaned over, looked at me and said - "Tell your brother, I apologize. I don't set out to write popular books. It's just that people buy them." (Not long after, I was back home in the Midwest and visited my brother who lived in Wisconsin. And I told John this story. His face lit up. One of the biggest smiles I've ever seen him make. "Stephen King said that about me???!" he asked. Yes - Stephen King said that about you. He laughed out loud, and said, with much pleasure, and an acknowledgement of his own inexplicable reaction to popularity - "You know, he's probably right." And he kept smiling.) I didn't take all that many photos of the production -- most of my pictures were of my trips around Maine on my days off, most notably to Arcadia National Park, Baxter State Park (which I particularly wanted to go to because L.L. Bean sells a 'Baxter State Park Parka'), Campabello Island, where FDR lived when he came down with polio, and had his recuperation there -- and was the subject of the classic play and subsequent movie Sunrise at Campabello (both starring Ralph Bellamy, who as whimsy has it went to my high school, New Trier. But I digress...) Interestingly, it's actually located in Canada, but has been made into an "International Park." I did take a few photos, though. This below is 'Jud Crandall's House,' where the taciturn character played by Fred Gwynne lived. I've previously told the stories of working with him on the film, which you can read here if interested. The short version is that I quite liked him. He was a bit crusty, but personal and direct. He'd done a great deal, was an accomplished artist, hit some highs and lows in his career, and didn't take kindly to fools, but if you were straight with him, he was good to be around. And contrary to what he may have said later in public -- perhaps it was to be diplomatic, perhaps he came to accept things -- at that time, he didn't hold much appreciation for The Munsters. He was grateful for the good it brought him, but it seriously mucked up his career after that, and he didn't want to talk about it. And this is the house from behind. It's only this rear that the production did additional work on -- the structure existed before we got there, but had to be filled out for the movie's needs. We filmed in an area known as Hancock Point, which is a bit outside the town of Ellsworth, about 25 miles from Bangor. The town leaders wanted to give the Key to the Town to the movie company, and since the breakfast "ceremony" for that took place at a local restaurant pretty early in the morning, none of the filmmakers wanted to get up that early. And so I -- as unit publicist -- was given the honor. I had to make a little speech, was very gracious (and meant it) and was presented with the key. I figured that since none of the people on the movie cared enough to go themselves to get the key, and it was presented to me...I would keep it. And still have it. I'm not sure what it will open up for me if I ever go back to Ellsworth, but I'm ready, just in case. I also recall that it was a big enough deal for us to film in the state that the governor showed up one day. (Checking records, since, no, I didn't remember, it was John McKernan, Jr., a Republican.) He told a wonderful story about Hancock Point that I included in the press kit. The short version was -- Back in World War II, the Germans wanted to get spies infiltrated in the U.S. so, Hanock Point being one of the easternmost parts of the country, they got a U-boat close enough to land and dropped two men off. They were dressed as locals and went walking through the point into town -- and almost immediately were spotted and arrested, but everyone knew everyone in that small, taciturn village that any stranger instantly stood out. One last photo. It has nothing to do with Pet Sematary, but it came during my time there and is one of my favorite pictures, although it's helped by the background. On one of my day's off, I decided to drive through the countryside. At one point, I passed a farm, and saw a large group of cows on the far side of the field. I stopped the car, and got out to look at them. What can I say, I like cows... And then I soon noticed something unexpected. It turned out that cows are incredibly curious. Because one-by-one, a cow would turn, spot me, and sloooooowwwwllly walk across the field to check me out. And then another. And another. And another. And... Well, I decided to wait to see what would happen. And this was the result. We all communed there for a while -- it would have been so rude of me to leave right after they had made the notable effort to graciously stop by and visit -- but then eventually it was time for me to head on. From their end, I'm guessing they returned back to the far side of the field. Perhaps discussing the whippersnapper in a Cubs cap. I have a lot of very good memories of working on the film, and some off-beat one, not just on the set, but traveling around the state. This includes some wonderful country-dining, a lot of blueberries and blueberry pie (Machias in northeast part of the state is the wild blueberry capital of the U.S.), going to a Triple-A minor league baseball game in Old Orchard Beach for the Maine Phillies, several trips to Freeport, the flagship home of L.L. Bean that's open literally 24/7 every day with countless factory outlet stores from other companies built-up around it, eating at "lobster pots" -- seemingly almost as ubiquitous and inexpensive there as McDonalds -- most memorably Bob the Lobster, understanding from the eerieness of parts of the state where Stephen King's stories come from, dismal Mexican food and an absence of a lot of ethnic food, and seeing a concert in town by Noel Paul Stookey -- Paul, of Peter, Paul and Mary -- who lived down the road in Blue Hill. I wish the remake well. But I'm very glad I worked on the original. |
AuthorRobert J. Elisberg is a political commentator, screenwriter, novelist, tech writer and also some other things that I just tend to keep forgetting. Feedspot Badge of Honor
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