Lorenzo,s Oil Documentary
Here is a short amusing story from Virginia USA..
Some time ago there was a movie released called “Lorenzo’s Oil”. The movie starred Nick Nolte and Susan Sarandon and was based on a true story about their severely handicapped child and their struggle to help him survive. The film was made after I had shot a documentary on the family some time earlier and it was aired on TV in the States.
The family were truly remarkable people and they had a house up in the Virginian Mountains, the location, which is secret , was in a winter sports area.
We made the film at the height of the skiing season, very deep snow, five or six feet of it, and it kept on coming down in almost white out conditions.
One small anecdote from the mother. Their house was on the side of a mountain and on the rear terrace they had a spa pool, they tended to use this all year round and it was constantly on a simmer mode in the winter, very pleasant ..and that’s what the local wildlife thought too.
One evening the family, mum and dad, went out onto the terrace for a bit of a soak and found two old brown bears sitting in the tub, as if they owned the joint..It took about half an hour of yelling and banging metal pans etc to persuade Mr and Mrs Bruin to push off, which they did very reluctantly.
Apparently the tub was out of action for a long time due to the grease and dirt that had entered the filters..
However we finished that part of the doco and the time came to drive down to Richmond for the filming of another section.
The soundman and the Director were chain smokers and we opted for them to travel in their own vehicle, a large van, along with the equipment and baggage….the rest of us, myself, my assistant and the Producer would travel in a normal saloon car.We had a walkie talkie in each vehicle for on the road communication…good planning ..
Where did it all go wrong
When we flew into the States we knew we would be going into the mountains and attempted to hire some FWD vehicles…no chance, every one of them was rented out. So we opted for a normal vehicle.
Perhaps that was the moment..
On our way down the mountain we ran into another small snow storm and as we rounded a bend the car just kept on travelling in a straight line…straight towards a flimsy fence and what looked like a massive drop..
This was it, the driver had no control whatsoever and we were about to smash through the barrier when we were saved.
We ran full tilt into a large truck coming up the hill.
There is a sequence of events when two vehicles collide. .The small screams from the passengers as they see their lives flashing before them and then there is the awesome sound of metal tearing…this is followed by a strange silence..
And so it was with us.
No-one sustained bad injuries, just a bruise or two. We pushed and kicked the doors open and stepped out into the snowstorm. It was possible to hear the flakes of snow hit the ground…that’s how silent it was up in that mountain forest.
The drop at the side of the road was several hundred feet into a ravine.The four of us stood in some form of shock at the fate we had cheated and all gave a silent little prayer of thanks for our saviours.
And then the door on the truck slid open and six of the biggest mountain men I had ever seen slowly began to climb out. They were very quiet and very peed off., you could tell that by the way they just glared and flexed their fingers.
I had the sudden and bright idea to call our other vehicle and get them to drive back up the road to offer some form of assistance. They had gone ahead and had also switched off the radio, so that they would not be bothered on the journey.. Clever eh.
The mountain men were still silent and still glaring. The two groups stood facing each other, then one of them spoke.
“You fucked our truck”
That’s when I knew we could be in some form of trouble.
Let me describe these fine mountain fellas. Did you ever see the group Z Z Top?
The three foot long beards, the pulled down droopy felt hats and the overcoats that trailed on the ground.
Thats what they looked like and these boys were not going to start singing, you could sense they wanted blood, an Englishman’s blood, particularly mine. .at least that’s what it felt like to me.
Suddenly they started to shuffle towards us and in spite of the rather high pitched and plummy apology from our lady producer they kept on coming.
At that moment another miracle occurred. in the shape of a State Trooper.
Out of the constant dumping of snow a police car emerged, A very tall man , made taller by his wide brimmed hat climbed out..The mountain men stopped and the trooper took charge of the situation, he restored order to chaos, helped us clear the road by pushing both the vehicles to one side and then arrested us.
We were vagrants, technically. Our bags were in the front car which was now many miles away, our passports and ID papers were in a bag in the back of that car. We had no means of identification. Bingo… Arrested.
The trooper piled us into his station waggon along with a mountain man and took us off to his local lock up. .about twenty miles away. And he put us in a cell.
Yep…behind bars, just like in a western movie.
The mountain man tried to curry favour with the cop, “You remember me trooper” he said “I fixed the shingles on your roof last year”
The trooper, who was sitting at his desk never even looked up at our fellow prisoner, he just said “Yep, you charged me for it and the darn roof still leaks”
I think that brought the plea bargaining to an end.
As it was a Sunday it took some time for the trooper to find a judge to come and say wise words or sentence us to the electric chair, whatever they do in Virginia but eventually one turned up, still wearing his pyjamas under his top coat, he arraigned us and then fined us, except we had no money or credit cards, yes, they were all in the other car.
As it was a Sunday in the UK also we could not raise an executive at the TV station to vouch for us either..The judge eventually relented and let us go having extracted an I.O.U from the producer to cover our fines when she could eventually be reunited with her credit card, which by now would be in Richmond.
Before we left we had some fun,we had our pics taken wearing handcuffs, locked in the cell and with the trooper pointing his gun at us, but now we were free to go.
Except we had no money and Richmond was about 120 miles away.
The trooper eventually got us a ride with a big black guy who turned up in a battered old station waggon and asked for 200 bucks for the journey..We had no option we took it, payment on delivery.
The snow was still coming down and it seemed we drove down that freeway sideways, first this side and then the other side.. It was a 120 mile skid. .But we made it..
What happened when we caught up with the rest of our team is another story..
Some time ago there was a movie released called “Lorenzo’s Oil”. The movie starred Nick Nolte and Susan Sarandon and was based on a true story about their severely handicapped child and their struggle to help him survive. The film was made after I had shot a documentary on the family some time earlier and it was aired on TV in the States.
The family were truly remarkable people and they had a house up in the Virginian Mountains, the location, which is secret , was in a winter sports area.
We made the film at the height of the skiing season, very deep snow, five or six feet of it, and it kept on coming down in almost white out conditions.
One small anecdote from the mother. Their house was on the side of a mountain and on the rear terrace they had a spa pool, they tended to use this all year round and it was constantly on a simmer mode in the winter, very pleasant ..and that’s what the local wildlife thought too.
One evening the family, mum and dad, went out onto the terrace for a bit of a soak and found two old brown bears sitting in the tub, as if they owned the joint..It took about half an hour of yelling and banging metal pans etc to persuade Mr and Mrs Bruin to push off, which they did very reluctantly.
Apparently the tub was out of action for a long time due to the grease and dirt that had entered the filters..
However we finished that part of the doco and the time came to drive down to Richmond for the filming of another section.
The soundman and the Director were chain smokers and we opted for them to travel in their own vehicle, a large van, along with the equipment and baggage….the rest of us, myself, my assistant and the Producer would travel in a normal saloon car.We had a walkie talkie in each vehicle for on the road communication…good planning ..
Where did it all go wrong
When we flew into the States we knew we would be going into the mountains and attempted to hire some FWD vehicles…no chance, every one of them was rented out. So we opted for a normal vehicle.
Perhaps that was the moment..
On our way down the mountain we ran into another small snow storm and as we rounded a bend the car just kept on travelling in a straight line…straight towards a flimsy fence and what looked like a massive drop..
This was it, the driver had no control whatsoever and we were about to smash through the barrier when we were saved.
We ran full tilt into a large truck coming up the hill.
There is a sequence of events when two vehicles collide. .The small screams from the passengers as they see their lives flashing before them and then there is the awesome sound of metal tearing…this is followed by a strange silence..
And so it was with us.
No-one sustained bad injuries, just a bruise or two. We pushed and kicked the doors open and stepped out into the snowstorm. It was possible to hear the flakes of snow hit the ground…that’s how silent it was up in that mountain forest.
The drop at the side of the road was several hundred feet into a ravine.The four of us stood in some form of shock at the fate we had cheated and all gave a silent little prayer of thanks for our saviours.
And then the door on the truck slid open and six of the biggest mountain men I had ever seen slowly began to climb out. They were very quiet and very peed off., you could tell that by the way they just glared and flexed their fingers.
I had the sudden and bright idea to call our other vehicle and get them to drive back up the road to offer some form of assistance. They had gone ahead and had also switched off the radio, so that they would not be bothered on the journey.. Clever eh.
The mountain men were still silent and still glaring. The two groups stood facing each other, then one of them spoke.
“You fucked our truck”
That’s when I knew we could be in some form of trouble.
Let me describe these fine mountain fellas. Did you ever see the group Z Z Top?
The three foot long beards, the pulled down droopy felt hats and the overcoats that trailed on the ground.
Thats what they looked like and these boys were not going to start singing, you could sense they wanted blood, an Englishman’s blood, particularly mine. .at least that’s what it felt like to me.
Suddenly they started to shuffle towards us and in spite of the rather high pitched and plummy apology from our lady producer they kept on coming.
At that moment another miracle occurred. in the shape of a State Trooper.
Out of the constant dumping of snow a police car emerged, A very tall man , made taller by his wide brimmed hat climbed out..The mountain men stopped and the trooper took charge of the situation, he restored order to chaos, helped us clear the road by pushing both the vehicles to one side and then arrested us.
We were vagrants, technically. Our bags were in the front car which was now many miles away, our passports and ID papers were in a bag in the back of that car. We had no means of identification. Bingo… Arrested.
The trooper piled us into his station waggon along with a mountain man and took us off to his local lock up. .about twenty miles away. And he put us in a cell.
Yep…behind bars, just like in a western movie.
The mountain man tried to curry favour with the cop, “You remember me trooper” he said “I fixed the shingles on your roof last year”
The trooper, who was sitting at his desk never even looked up at our fellow prisoner, he just said “Yep, you charged me for it and the darn roof still leaks”
I think that brought the plea bargaining to an end.
As it was a Sunday it took some time for the trooper to find a judge to come and say wise words or sentence us to the electric chair, whatever they do in Virginia but eventually one turned up, still wearing his pyjamas under his top coat, he arraigned us and then fined us, except we had no money or credit cards, yes, they were all in the other car.
As it was a Sunday in the UK also we could not raise an executive at the TV station to vouch for us either..The judge eventually relented and let us go having extracted an I.O.U from the producer to cover our fines when she could eventually be reunited with her credit card, which by now would be in Richmond.
Before we left we had some fun,we had our pics taken wearing handcuffs, locked in the cell and with the trooper pointing his gun at us, but now we were free to go.
Except we had no money and Richmond was about 120 miles away.
The trooper eventually got us a ride with a big black guy who turned up in a battered old station waggon and asked for 200 bucks for the journey..We had no option we took it, payment on delivery.
The snow was still coming down and it seemed we drove down that freeway sideways, first this side and then the other side.. It was a 120 mile skid. .But we made it..
What happened when we caught up with the rest of our team is another story..
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