Yesterday, 09:39 AM
This one hits hard, the closest person I know that has passed away too soon.
Lyndell was my first boss in the film industry on Wizards of the Lost Kingdon II. Lyndell wanted nothing to do with me when the show's Art Director foisted me upon him. He handed me a broom and said get sweeping. I think I was referred to as a waste of skin. I started as unpaid intern. About two weeks later, Lyndell went to the bosses and told them I really should be getting paid for all the work I did.
We spent the next twenty years or so working together. On most jobs, he was my boss. For a number of shows, when we were both learning the ropes in the Union world, he was my partner. Then he became my boss again as people realized just how great a carpenter he was and put him in charge of projects. But he was unflinching in his perfectionism which cost him, as well.
One of the earliest stories I have of him and why I thought I could never be a carpenter happened at the Corman studios probably in my first month. I was walking through the Bone Yard where old set pieces were kept. Lyndell had set up a table to do some work, cigarette in one hand and machete in the other. With casual strokes, he lopped at a block of green foam. In an instant, a sitting panther emerged. It seemed effortless. If that was what you needed to do to be a carpenter there was no way I was going to make it. Later I learned that nobody does that, only Lyndell.
He used to carry around this box that carried a pipe he had carved. If you asked nicely, he would show it to you. It was from a piece of burl and all around the bowl of the pipe he had carved Tolkien figures complete with Smaug. He had carved it in such a way that there was an opening for your fingers between the 3D figures to actually hold the pipe. At one point, Lyndell was offered Ten Grand for the pipe.
I have never had bigger fights on set than I have had with Lyndell. There was a time on the film The Bodyguard that Lyndell had lost his driver's license and since we were partners, I drove us to work. We got into a knock down drag out fight about tolerances for gaps between floor boards. His tolerances were far tighter than my own. But that was to be expected. He worried how he was going to get home and get back to work the next day. He shouldn't have worried.
Because if anyone had your back it was Lyndell. On the film Tremors, knowing I had higher aspirations in film, Lyndell placed me with the shooting crew as the on-set carpenter so I could see up close and personal how films were made. It was an invaluable experience for me.
When I got in trouble with our bosses, we kind of drifted apart. But if there was ever a chance for him to bring me on a film, Lyndell would pick me up. We worked on some really big films together.
Lyndell always had health issues. There was one particularly grizzly experience when they had to shock his heart to get it into rhythm. He was awake for that. I can't remember, but I think he a defibrillator installed in his chest. At one point, while working, he fell from a ladder and shattered his hand. The X-ray showed a ton of metal holding all the bones in place in his wrist. That spelled the end of his film career.
He was always an artist. He loved to sculpt but settled on painting because he could produce. His latest subjects have been hyper-real depictions of antique motorcycles. He was a big hit at a local motorcycle show in Ventura called Chopper Fest. According to his wife, because of the health problems, he'd been unable to paint for the last six months or so. According to her he was looking forward to getting back to work once he got through this surgery.
I'm currently really pissed at Lyndell. I wasn't down with him yet. My plan was to go down to see him during his recovery. Now, I'm going down for a memorial service.
We did work together one last time. When I made Iron Crotch, I brought Lyndell on board to help out. No pay, of course. But I think he had a good time. He got to meet Master Tu. He got to see my flail around trying to make shots work. We had lunch with the Tu family in the back garden area. We quickly fell back into our old patterns of discourse as if no time had passed at all since last we were together.
I looked forward to getting into a film festival in Los Angeles so we could watch the film together.
Lyndell was my first boss in the film industry on Wizards of the Lost Kingdon II. Lyndell wanted nothing to do with me when the show's Art Director foisted me upon him. He handed me a broom and said get sweeping. I think I was referred to as a waste of skin. I started as unpaid intern. About two weeks later, Lyndell went to the bosses and told them I really should be getting paid for all the work I did.
We spent the next twenty years or so working together. On most jobs, he was my boss. For a number of shows, when we were both learning the ropes in the Union world, he was my partner. Then he became my boss again as people realized just how great a carpenter he was and put him in charge of projects. But he was unflinching in his perfectionism which cost him, as well.
One of the earliest stories I have of him and why I thought I could never be a carpenter happened at the Corman studios probably in my first month. I was walking through the Bone Yard where old set pieces were kept. Lyndell had set up a table to do some work, cigarette in one hand and machete in the other. With casual strokes, he lopped at a block of green foam. In an instant, a sitting panther emerged. It seemed effortless. If that was what you needed to do to be a carpenter there was no way I was going to make it. Later I learned that nobody does that, only Lyndell.
He used to carry around this box that carried a pipe he had carved. If you asked nicely, he would show it to you. It was from a piece of burl and all around the bowl of the pipe he had carved Tolkien figures complete with Smaug. He had carved it in such a way that there was an opening for your fingers between the 3D figures to actually hold the pipe. At one point, Lyndell was offered Ten Grand for the pipe.
I have never had bigger fights on set than I have had with Lyndell. There was a time on the film The Bodyguard that Lyndell had lost his driver's license and since we were partners, I drove us to work. We got into a knock down drag out fight about tolerances for gaps between floor boards. His tolerances were far tighter than my own. But that was to be expected. He worried how he was going to get home and get back to work the next day. He shouldn't have worried.
Because if anyone had your back it was Lyndell. On the film Tremors, knowing I had higher aspirations in film, Lyndell placed me with the shooting crew as the on-set carpenter so I could see up close and personal how films were made. It was an invaluable experience for me.
When I got in trouble with our bosses, we kind of drifted apart. But if there was ever a chance for him to bring me on a film, Lyndell would pick me up. We worked on some really big films together.
Lyndell always had health issues. There was one particularly grizzly experience when they had to shock his heart to get it into rhythm. He was awake for that. I can't remember, but I think he a defibrillator installed in his chest. At one point, while working, he fell from a ladder and shattered his hand. The X-ray showed a ton of metal holding all the bones in place in his wrist. That spelled the end of his film career.
He was always an artist. He loved to sculpt but settled on painting because he could produce. His latest subjects have been hyper-real depictions of antique motorcycles. He was a big hit at a local motorcycle show in Ventura called Chopper Fest. According to his wife, because of the health problems, he'd been unable to paint for the last six months or so. According to her he was looking forward to getting back to work once he got through this surgery.
I'm currently really pissed at Lyndell. I wasn't down with him yet. My plan was to go down to see him during his recovery. Now, I'm going down for a memorial service.
We did work together one last time. When I made Iron Crotch, I brought Lyndell on board to help out. No pay, of course. But I think he had a good time. He got to meet Master Tu. He got to see my flail around trying to make shots work. We had lunch with the Tu family in the back garden area. We quickly fell back into our old patterns of discourse as if no time had passed at all since last we were together.
I looked forward to getting into a film festival in Los Angeles so we could watch the film together.
As a matter of fact, my anger does keep me warm