As far as I know, there are no guys doing Gary's job in the industry. But if there were, I hope they'd be just like him.

I had the idea for the character way long ago. I think it was one of the first ideas I scribbled down when I started thinking about ideas for FFF stories. But I could never think of exactly what I wanted to do with him.

I'm also pleased I was able to toss in a reference to an earlier story.

---

Teardrops

Ronnie and Tom shared a table in their company's open-concept office. Two artists were assigned to each of the boomerang-shaped Ikea tables on the fourth floor of the converted warehouse. New hires usually brag to their friends about how they don't have to be stuck in some cubicle. Although after a few weeks, they wished they had a way to take a discreet nap on mornings when they came in hungover, when they just couldn't look at the same frame they'd been working on for months as the director for the film continuously changed his mind about what colour the sky should be on the alien world that Captain Amazing had journeyed to in pursuit of Dr. Sinister.

Ed, the producer on the show was at the table whose peak touched Ronnie and Tom's, going over the notes from their most recent production meeting.

"They've decided that Captain Amazing can't breath the air on Planet X."

The artist he was talking to was wearing a vintage Captain Amazing t-shirt. "But that's stupid. Captain Amazing's citadel is in orbit. If he can survive in space, he can survive on Planet X."

"Maybe the air there is poisonous to him."

The artist gave Ed a look that showed clearly what he thought of the notion. Ronnie tried to stare at his monitor and pretend he couldn't hear the argument. He'd only been there a few weeks and hadn't really got the lay of the land yet.

"Look, anyway, his Citadel isn't even in the script. His home is in an American military base inside a mountain. Like in Stargate."

"Don't even get me started about that."

"Mark," said Ed, throwing his hands up in the air, "I know you're a huge Captain Amazing fan. You asked to be on the project knowing how these things usually turn out for the really hardcore fans. The director wants these changes, so our job is to figure is how to do them."

"So are they going to reshoot the scenes on the planet's surface?"

"Nope. No budget for that. He wants us to do something with the existing footage. Maybe put a helmet on Captain Amazing. Like, a big glass bowl like spacemen wore in the old movies, or something."

"A giant fucking bowl? Are you kidding me?"

But they were interrupted by someone Ronnie hadn't seen before. He was listening to big headphones like a DJ might use, the cord snaking inside his jacket, and walked straight between Ed and Mark, forcing Ed to take a step backwards to avoid a collision.

"Morning, Gary," Ed said.

Gary waved vaguely over his shoulder. He wore tore jeans and a tattered Winnipeg Jets jersey. He also had the only mullet that Ronnie had seen in more than six years.

"Who's that guy?" he whispered to Tom.

"Who? Gary? Oh yeah. I guess he's been on vacation since before you started."

Gary walked into one of offices along the west wall, the ones occupied by senior staff. The door banged shut behind him.

Tom continued, "Gary is a tear specialist. He's major hot-shit in the industry, apparently. We got Gwyneth Paltrow's last show solely because she refuses to have anyone but Gary do her tears."

"But what's a tear specialist?"

"What's a -- oh man you kids straight outta school. They never teach you guys how things really work. What's the hardest thing about being an actor?"

Ronnie shrugged. "Staying married?"

"Aside from that. The hardest thing is faking tears. Pretending to cry. In the old days, the nineties, they used to have all kids of tricks. Hold a slice a onion in your hand. Soap opera actors used to keep pins in their pants pockets and jab themselves in the leg when they needed to cry. I mean, some people can cry on demand. But it's like being able to roll your tongue. Either you can or you can't, and there's no changing it."

Ronnie nodded.

"Nowadays, we just add in tears in post, the same time we're removing fat rolls and zits. A good tear specialist can make the difference between an Oscar and having every blogger on the planet making fun of your crying." Tom emphasized his disdain for lousy crying with air quotes.

"And that's all he does? Tears?"

"That's why he's a specialist."

"I'm surprised there's that much work for it."

"Oh, they're going back and fixing the crying in all the old movies for the dvd releases. We're working on Old Yeller right now." He turned his LCD monitor so Ronnie could see it. The frame was from when the boy has to shoot his dog. "I'm roto-ing out all the tears so later on Gary can add new, better ones."

Tom turned his screen back and went on with his work, Ronnie with his. After ten minutes, Ronnie pulled out his earbuds, leaned over and tapped Tom on the shoulder.

"What's up?"

"Can't they just do tears with software? There's no plug-in for Max?"

"Oh, there's some off the shelf packages but they aren't up the level of a Gary. Not yet. You want to win Best Actor, you gotta go to someone like him."

---

Gary sat in his chair, feet up on his desk and drawing tablet in his lap. His computer was set up with two monitors; on one, was a still frame of a dour looking, middle-aged man behind a desk. Some politician. American, Gary guessed by small flag, the only decoration on the desk. On the other screen was a 3D model of the scene the tracking guys had put together last night. For a change, the camera rigging wasn't half-bad. All of Gary's bitching must have been getting through to them.

He used his stylus to rotate the model of the scene, until his view was from behind the desk. He wanted to get a sense of what the politician would be facing. He rotated the camera around again until he was facing the guy once more.

Gary tapped out a rhythm on his chin with his stylus. He'd been jamming on his drum kit before they'd called him in for this so-called emergency project. Some politician caught in a sex scandal had filmed a statement to be broadcast tomorrow, but had been unable to muster up the waterworks his handlers wanted.

He decided on a single tear, dribbling down from his left eye. A lone teardrop sometimes spoke way more than a waterfall.

He set up the parameters for the tear, where it would appear and then slide down the guy's cheek before finally disappearing under his cheek, leaving behind its wet streak. He tuned the gravity in the software so that the tear would linger just for a moment before vanishing. The rendering software could take care of the basic tear; Gary would come back later when the render was complete and touch it up. The software never did the reflections right. If you zoomed into a teardrop, you would see in it a reflection of the world that was causing the tear in the first place. The software and the hacks always overlooked that. The human brain would register the difference, though, if only on a subconscious level.

---

Ronnie looked up to see Gary leaving his office, DJ headphones still on.

"I'll be back in a few hours when my render is done," he said to no one in particular.

After he was gone, Ronnie leaned over to Tom. "He was here for, what, a half hour? We've all been putting in twelve hour days lately."

"Hey," said Tom, "you get to be a rock star, you can work like that."

---

Gary took the shot glass full of whiskey and dropped it into his pint of beer. When it settled on the bottom, he picked up the glass and started chugging. He set the emptied glass on the bar with a thunk; the empty shot glass inside rattled.

The bartender ambled over and said, over the loud AC-DC tribute band, "Another one, Gary?"

Gary looked at his watch. The render would be going for another hour. More if some asshole interrupted it. "Fucking A, man."

The bartender poured the glass of beer, then a shot of Johnnie Walker Red Label.

"How's work going these days?"

"Same old, some old, Bob, you know." Gary picked up the shot glass and sniffed it, moving it around in a small circle under his nose. "I'm kinda getting a bit tired of it. Nothing seems like a challenge anymore."

"Time to move on?"

"Maybe, but the money's good."

"Oh hey, I saw one of your flicks the other night on TV. City of Angels -- you worked on that one, didn't you?"

"What a shitty movie that was."

"Your stuff wasn't bad."

"I guess not," Gary shrugged, "Nicolas Cage would've been more convincing if they'd given me more budget."

"That's always the way."

They both looked over at a sudden commotion. At a table across the bar, a woman had stood up, knocking over a couple of glasses on the table she'd been sitting at, and one of them had hit the floor and shattered. The guy who was presumably her boyfriend also stood up. They were both waving their arms angrily, but Gary and the bartender couldn't hear what they were saying over the music. Eventually, the woman spun on her heels and stomped out of the bar. The guy made a rude gesture to her retreating back and sat heavily back down onto his chair. He picked up a glass half-full of beer and took a drink.

"One of those nights, I guess," said the bartender.

"She was faking it."

"Faking it?"

"Crocodile tears. She's probably got another guy and the waterworks were just an emotional shot at this guy."

"You're the expert."

Gary knocked back his depth charge and belched while Bob prepared him another. He thought about the woman who'd stomped out of the bar. If the scene had been recorded at a decent resolution, preferably with three cameras at different angles, he'd really have been able to do wonders with her crying. Strip out all of her sorry excuses for tears and redone them from scratch. When Gary was through with her, she could have broken the heart of a statue.

He shrugged to himself and glanced at his watch to see when his render would be done.

"Bob, you better line me up another one after that. I'm expensing this anyhow."

6 responses to "Week #22 - Teardrops "

Erinn the Bold wrote: Tuesday, 13 May 2008 00:42 Dana, I thoroughly enjoyed reading this story. And I do mean thoroughly. Good on you.

Karen wrote: Tuesday, 13 May 2008 12:03 Loved this! I also rolled my tongue when they talked about it. And it was great to see Captain Amazing back in action! Woo!

D.J. wrote: Friday, 16 May 2008 13:27 <i>He wore tore jeans</i> I think you mean "torn." :P This is a great story, though! I just want to see more of it ...

D.J. wrote: Friday, 16 May 2008 13:28 What? I can't use formatting in my comments? /walks away grumbling

Dana wrote: Friday, 16 May 2008 13:58 I wrote a very, very trivial javascript sanitizer. If you really want, I can probably change it to allow things like italics and bold through. I'm already hacking on the code because I have to write a spam filter :/

Astrid wrote: Thursday, 22 May 2008 16:49 Yes, I too am wondering if there's already a Gary out there, busy working on all those US election-year tears. (Do Canadian politicians cry less at election time than their US counterparts?) Hmm. Veeeerrry interesting... Great concept, Dana!

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