On a lighter note - RENT IS DUE!
With trash in gutters, graffiti on walls and extras in punk chic, San Francisco dresses up as New York for the filming of 'Rent'
New Year's Eve revelers in party hats and unisex ensembles, heavy on black leather and fanciful feather boas, amble across Sixth Street between Mission and Market. Arm in arm and obviously intoxicated, they merrily step in a mix of snow and confetti. The ball in Times Square is about to drop, and they're heading to watch it on an array of TV screens in the window of an electronics store called the Wiz. Parked by the shop is a black Ford convertible with a New York license plate. On closer examination, a nearby Mercedes, Porsche and Ford Thunderbird also boast Big Apple plates. Even fishier, the cars are all models from the early 1980s.
A passer-by might think he or she had entered the Twilight Zone late Thursday night when this scene was re-enacted. But it was only a movie set.
The stars of "Rent," including Rosario Dawson and Adam Pascal, along with a couple hundred local extras, rode herd over the last genuinely seedy streets of San Francisco for three days. Director Chris Columbus oversaw the mayhem in his usual low-key manner. When someone from the crew brought over a plastic bag filled with noisemakers for his approval, he distributed them to the extras himself.
Casually attired in khakis and an open blue-and-white checkered shirt over a T-shirt emblazoned with 1983 -- the year "Rent" is set -- he looked almost as young as when he shot "Mrs. Doubtfire" and "Nine Months" around here more than a decade ago. A pair of glasses seemed to be his only concession to age.
Columbus, who lives in San Francisco and has an office in North Beach, is the city's biggest advocate for bringing more filming to town. "When I came back from making 'Harry Potter' in London, I was shocked at the lack of film production here," he said.
"Rent" is an adaptation of the hit Broadway musical (itself loosely based on "La Boheme") about struggling young artists in New York's East Village. Because of its East Coast locale, it didn't seem an obvious fit for San Francisco. But Columbus made it work by utilizing soundstages at Treasure Island for interior scenes and dressing up Sixth and Jessie streets to look like Lower Manhattan.
Twenty truckloads of garbage were heaped onto Jessie to give it a grittier look, adding new meaning to the expression about bringing coals to Newcastle. Teamsters spent months accumulating this so-called clean rubbish from Dumpsters and garbage cans outside garment stores. Additional graffiti was painted on a brick wall papered with ads for bogus New York clubs such as the "Hate Shop," which invited people to "bring hate" to a featured event. Right before Thursday's shoot, a set decorator sprayed tempera onto a "No Parking" pole to give it a rustier appearance.
The Wiz, with its bright yellow sign proclaiming "Nobody Beats the Wiz," didn't exist until a film crew created it a few days ago. There was a new awning on Tony's Barbershop advertising "unisex cuts," which aren't quite the rage now that they were in the '80s.
To get ready for their close-ups, other stores underwent name changes so their California locations wouldn't be obvious. Sonoma Liquors became Lach's Market, and Pacific Loan morphed into Alphabet pawnshop. Louis Cruz, who works at Pacific Loan, doesn't mind the Hollywood invasion, calling it "something different." But the store has lost business because of it. Longtime customers are accustomed to pulling up in front of the store with wares to hock. The absence of parking and the presence of police and other security are keeping them away.
Residents of the area seemed pretty blase about the flurry of activity. "I live in a movie, so why should I care," said a homeless woman seeking shelter in a doughnut shop. The one advantage, she added, was that the police were too busy to harass people like her.
A production assistant on "Rent" appeared eager to step into the void. When a local who looked pretty out of it stopped to watch the big party scene, the assistant shooed him away, saying, "I told you not to hang out here," then offering him a cigarette or a dollar to leave.
Club Six underwent the biggest metamorphosis, turning into the Cat Scratch Club, which, in the script, has a raunchy clientele attracted to the idea of S&M, if not the actual acts. On Wednesday, extras waiting for the club scene to be shot lined up wearing an array of bizarre outfits, which most had assembled themselves. Showing off a bracelet embedded with ominous-looking spikes, Ezra Firestone, an 18-year-old from Walnut Creek, said he got it from a friend who had come of age in the '80s. "She has a whole box of bondage stuff.'' Rachel Rotten and Missie Mae dug out miniskirts and fishnet hose they'd worn in other, um, movies. "These are our porn names," said Rotten to clear up any confusion.
Soon the gang was ushered inside Club Six, whose lounge area had been converted into a dimly lit nightclub with a stage built just for the movie. They were handed fake bottles of beer and real cigarettes to smoke while watching Pascal, reprising the part of Roger he did on Broadway, perform onstage. Columbus, who had a couple of his red-haired daughters in tow, instructed everyone to dance in time to the music and to look as if they were having a good time.
Afterward, the extras were rewarded for their outburst of energy by a dinner break. They walked a block to the defunct Old Mint, brought back to life as a combination cafeteria for the cast and place where they got their makeup and hair done.
Meanwhile, the wardrobe department appropriated the alley behind the Mint. The stars' costumes hung outdoors on a clothes rack, each in its own plastic bag, fancy treatment for such funky getups. Dawson, in the starring role of Mimi, an HIV-infected heroin addict, was due to put on one of these outfits the next day for her big scene in an alley, where she attempts to score some drugs.
By coincidence, that same day, "Sin City," in which she plays the leader of a gang of prostitutes, opened at the Metreon a few blocks away.
A cleanup crew would soon descend on Sixth Street to remove all remnants of "Rent." The stores got their names back, and Club Six reopened as a hip, definitely 21st century club. The garbage will not be going to waste. It is being hauled back to the warehouse on Treasure Island where it had been stored. In two weeks, it will be trucked over to a deserted railway station in Oakland, which will be turned into a homeless encampment for another scene in "Rent" -- through the same movie magic that transformed Sixth Street.