Santa Clarita Films

This year the Santa Clarita Cowboy Festival offered a new event - the SCV (Santa Clarita Valley) Film Tour.

Santa Clarita Valley, on the outskirts of LA, is like Hollywood's back yard. It has been used for films since the beginning of the film industry in Southern California. Some have even dubbed this area "Newhall-ywood". (Newhall is one of the several towns that make up the city of Santa Clarita.) The 55 of us who had booked the tour met at Heritage Junction, the old Railway station. There we watched a few clips from movies filmed at the station itself (e.g. Frank Sinatra in Suddenly, Charlie Chaplin in The Pilgrim and John Cusack in The Grifters) as well as scenes from the surrounding area. The most popular clip was that of Kirk fighting a Gorn at Vasquez Rocks, from a Classic Star Trek episode, Arena. After the clips, we filed out to the waiting bus, popping our tickets into a spittoon & getting a brown bag snack in return.

Our guide was E.J. Stephens, a knowledgable and enthusiastic lecturer from the Santa Clarita Valley Historical Society. We spent an hour at the NCIS set at Valencia Studios then another two hours driving around the hills while E.J. pointed out features of interest.

Here are fifteen fascinating facts I learned from the tour:

1. Apart from Melody Ranch (the venue of the Cowboy Festival) there are dozens of other film ranches and studios dotted around Santa Clarita: Valencia Studios, Blue Cloud Ranch, Sable Ranch, Disney's Golden Oak Ranch, Firestone Ranch, to name a few. Many residents are totally unaware of their existence.

2. NCIS is filmed at Valencia Studios. Set designer Lynn Wolverton Parker generously spent an hour showing us the sets and props, which was fun for fans of the series.

3.The final sequence in the very last silent film was shot on the Sierra Highway: Charlie Chaplin and Paulette Goddard walking into the sunrise in the film Modern Times.

4. The hit TV series Justified is not filmed in Harlan County, Kentucky, but right here at Santa Clarita Studios.

5. The high school in Pleasantville is Valencia High School.

6. James Dean possibly ate his last meal at Tip's Restaurant (now Marie Callender's)

7. Some scenes of Twilight (those meant to be Arizona) were filmed in and around the Hyatt Valencia.

8. The Halfway House Cafe (halfway between L.A. and Palmdale) has appeared in so many films that they have a whole page of film clips and stills on their website.

9. The Birds actress Tippi Hedren has a big cat sanctuary called Shambala in the hills. Sometimes you can catch a glimpse of lions on the metrolink train just before it gets into Palmdale.

10. The famous Vasquez Rocks are named after a bandit who hid out there for a while. He was later hung.

11. The man in the Gorn suit is named Bobby Clarke and still lives in Santa Clarita.

12. There is a gibbon preserve up in the hills near Vasquez Rocks.

13. Steven Spielberg filmed most of his first movie, Duel, on the roads around Santa Clarita Valley. At the end of the film, the demon truck falls over dramatic cliff at Mystery Mesa on Agua Dulce Movie Ranch.

14. Mystery Mesa has also featured in Iron Man, Thor, etc. According to E.J., it was saved from development thanks to the presence of "sea monkeys", an amazing type of brine shrimp that can lie dormant for years until water is added and they revive. If a film-maker ever needs a handy cliff, that's the place to go.

15. Beale's Cut (above) was is a deep cut in a pass made by Phineas Banning in 1854 as part of a road he built to provide service to Fort Tejon. Originally made for real stagecoaches, it appears in the 1939 John Wayne film Stagecoach and many others. Today it is on private property. 

Thanks to E.J., his wife Kimi, Lynn Wolverton Parker, the organizers at the Cowboy Festival and the Santa Clarita Valley Historical Society for a great tour!

Richard and Caroline at Valencia Studios

Sweetgrass

This is my Western decade, and I'm embracing it in every way I can. That's why my ears pricked up when I heard one of my favourite film podcasters praise a documentary about sheep farming in Montana. Then last week I went to the Renoir Cinema in Bloomsbury to watch Meek's Cutoff and they showed this charming trailer for the film that had piqued my curiosity last year: Sweetgrass.

The scenes in the trailer are the opening scenes of the film and that is what brought me back to the Renoir three days later for a screening of Sweetgrass followed by a Q&A with one of the filmmakers. Lucien Castaing-Taylor is a thoughtful, bearded Englishman now based out of Harvard. He introduces the film by warning us that we are in for two hours of sheep with no talking. In fact the film is well under two hours and there is plenty of dialogue between the two main shepherds. But yes, it is mainly watching sheep from the time of shearing through lambing through taking them up into the mountains for the summer and then bringing them back to a holding pen near the train tracks, so they can be shipped off for slaughter.

One of my favourite scenes can be seen in the trailer. In the farmyard, the shepherd rises up on the horizon and calls his sheep. They slow down, turn, one or two of the most clued-up start towards him. Soon a great, woolly, bleating, adorable mass of them flock after the shepherd. Ah. Bless. They know his voice. Just like Jesus says: "My sheep know my voice." Oh, wait. There's a tractor behind them, urging them in the right direction. Lol.

As they swarm after him, the sheep baa enthusiastically and loudly. There is something wonderful about the sound of sheep. They say "Baaa!" but they say it just like a human. It is comical and endearing.

It's no wonder that in the New Testament, 23.5% of Jesus's parables (my guestimate) have to do with sheep. We identify with them. We like them. They are woolly headed, thick and usually hungry. They like to clump together. But they can be ornery critters and spread out, when the mood takes them. Just like us.

In the Q&A after the film, Lucien is his own worst critic. He says the first 20 minutes of the film are the best. They are, but there are some gems in the following hour or so. He says the sound is too rich, dense, textured and dramatic. I think he's wrong on that score. The sound is wonderfully done. Especially when he shows us stupendous wide angle vistas but we can hear John grunting, muttering and urging his horse Jake to "watch your step". And the intense sounds put us right there in the Beartooth Mountains.

In a throwaway comment, Lucien mentions that the shearing scene is distressing for the viewer. Again, I disagree. You can clearly see that the sheep quietly submit to the firm, confident grasp of their shearers. There is something wonderful about seeing the shaggy outer layer sheared off; each swipe leaves a textured track and the sheep look like courdouroy when they're pushed out into the watery spring sunlight. Then the filmmakers poignantly cut to a shot of the newly-sheared sheep standing miserably in a spring snowstorm and the camera holds on them for several minutes. They do not complain, but one of them looks accusingly out at us. That's the distressing scene.

Some of the questions the audience put to Lucien were about the two main shepherds, craggy old John and peevish Pat. Lucien almost batted aside the question, saying he wanted the focus of film to be on the sheep, not the shepherds. I'm with the filmmaker on this one. The humans are prosaic. It's the sheep that are poetic.

People don't usually identify with cattle (unless we're on a crowded tube train) but we do identify and empathise with sheep, and this gives the whole idea of a Western "cattle drive" a new twist. Instead of identifying with the "cowboy" we identify with the critters they are herding. We are the flock being driven, trusting that our shepherd will be patient and loving like Jesus, not angry and frustrated like Pat, who at one point descends to a profane rant that would have Deadwood's Al Swearengen blushing. Pat is tired and bored and sick of sheep and his knees are giving out. At one point this middle-aged man makes a mountaintop phone call to his mother and nearly dissolves in tears. It's not pure self-pity: he's upset because his beloved sheepdog has bleeding paws and his horse is nothing but "ribs and bones".

The myth of the Western is the myth of freedom and choice and the loner riding off into the sunset. And as you watch Sweetgrass you realize that's just what it is: A MYTH. This compelling film shows us that the reality of herding cattle or sheep (or whatever) is that it is a kind of prison. You can't just take off and ride west when you're looking after a flock of critters who depend on you. Sometimes you can't even get a phone signal.

Dirty 21-Mile House

In 1852 a man named William Host built a tavern on the stage route from San Jose to Monterey. The same year he sold it to a certain William Tennant, and he became landlord of the 21-Mile House, so-called because it was 21 miles south of San Jose. You can find a marker of this historic site on the NW corner of Tennant Ave and Monterey Hwy in Morgan Hill. According to the plaque:

This famous tavern and stage stop was located 21 miles from San Jose on the road to Monterey. The 21-Mile House was built in 1852 by William Host beneath a spreading oak that later was called the Vasquez Tree. The house was sold to William Tennant in November 1852. Now destroyed, this stopping station was a place where horses could be changed, fed, and stabled, and where tired and hungry passengers could refresh themselves.

One famous visitor who refreshed himself at the 21-Mile House was William H. Brewer (right, in the chair), a California state geologist who went up and down California recording details of life and landscape between 1860 and 1864. His journal is called Up and Down California in 1860-1864; The Journal of William H. Brewer.

Brewer and his party stayed at the 21-Mile House three times, each time camping out rather than staying inside the tavern. Brewer's entry for a blistering May evening in 1864 reads:

We got to the 21-Mile House and camped under the old oak trees. We had camped there before, once in ‘61, and again in ‘62. The spot seemed familiar and awoke pleasing memories, and that night, on the ground under the trees, sweeter sleep came than had for many a long night before...

Another visitor, Alf Doten, was less impressed. Arriving one October night in 1862, he and a friend dined and slept in the tavern. The next day, Doten gave it a scathing review in his private journal:

Oct 3 1862... got there at sunset - put up there – got a dirty supper – served up in a dirty manner, on a dirty table, in a dirty house, by a dirty waiter – when bedtime came, we turned in to two dirty little beds, in a dirty little room & slept cold, not having enough bed clothes, & fleas & bedbugs giving us Jesse – waked up an hour or two before daylight from the cold – some ½ doz other travellers there, all in the same uncomfortable fix - all got to shouting to each other and "carrying on" - no more sleep...

Oct 4 1862 ... Rose very early - after dirty breakfast, paid our dirty bill of $5.00 & left - won't stop there again, I guess...

But in April of 1863 Alf was passing through again, and had no choice but to give it a second chance. Apparently his experience this time was more pleasant, probably due to the fact that his musical talents were appreciated:

April 29 1863 ... After breakfast I started for Fred Lucas's - rode Kit with banjo rolled up in my overcoat & lashed behind saddle, carpet bag ditto - led Georgie ... couldn't ride Kit very hard on account of her being heavy with foal - stopped occasionally on the road to let her have a bite of green grass & cool off - at 6 PM I arrived at the "21 Mile" house & put up for the night... after supper, at request of Mr Tennant, the landlord - I gave them some banjo and songs in bar-room...

April 30 1863 ... My bill was: horses 75¢ each - $1.50 and 2 meals $1.00 & a bed 50¢ - Total $3.00 - left about 8 1/2 oclock...

But in May of the same year he found things 'dirty' again:

May 9 1863 ... at 2 PM arrived at 21 mile house - got dirty dinner, served up in dirty manner by Miss Maggie Tennant in a dirty dress & frowsy hair - knew me - Had quite a chat together - Took me into parlor - got me to write off the words of "Open thy lattice to me" for her - I rode on... 

A Starbucks now stands in the place of the tavern.

Rango Cheatsheet

Rango "Cheatsheet"! Impress your friends & family by identifying these film references in the film Rango!

Breaking the 4th wall: characters use forefinger to draw a square (the "fourth wall") no less than three times in the film. Also, lots of self-conscious screenwriting terms and phrases like "Every story needs a hero", "What our story needs is conflict", "It is metaphor", etc.

Here are the film references I spotted starting from the beginning:

Cat Ballou/Blazing Saddles: musicians singing story are visible to us and to the players in the film.

Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas: when Rango is flung against a windscreen

Big Lebowski: Chameleon/rock creature sounds like Jesus Quintana ("dios mio!")

Sergio Leone's "No Name" Trilogy:
(Fistful of Dollars, For a Few Dollars More & GB&U)
Spirit of the West = The "Man with No Name" i.e. Clint Eastwood
Rattlesnake Jake = Lee van Cleef
Good, Bad & Ugly (Il buono il brutto il cattivo) = bird's cry used to bleep swear word
Once Upon a Time in the West = squeaky windmill from opening sequence

Django: the gattling gun in Rattlesnake Jake's tail

Star Wars IV: visual echoes of Mos Eisley Cantina in the Saloon
ALSO the fight in canyon is like final Death Star canyon sequence

Jabba the Hut (Star Wars IV) & Buford the Barkeep (Rango)

True Grit: Rango calls little girl Priscilla "Little Sister"

Jurassic Park: dinosaur/bird uncovers someone on the toilet

Chinatown: Ned "The Mayor" Beatty mimics John Huston's villain AND
Chinatown: theme of water in desert, drowned man in desert, etc...

The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance: hero is a fraud

High Noon: hero discards badge/star

Apocalypse Now: bats/helicopters fly out to Wagner's "Ride of the Valkyries"

I have heard there are also references to Ghostbusters, Planet of the Apes & Deliverance. (But I didn't get those...)

Scandal in Frisco! (1884)

from The San Franciscan March 1, 1885:

A woman passed along Kearny street, one afternoon this week, who attracted a good deal of attention.

People did not turn and look after her because she was very beautiful, famous for her genius, notorious for her misdeeds, or because she was doing anything unusual. She was just walking along on the proper side of the pavement, like the rest of the people. Her face was far from handsome, and not by any means bright. She was past the age when men compete for the favor of her attention. Yet this unknown, middle-aged, commonplace woman drew as much notice as if she had been a great actress or criminal.

She wore trowsers.



(Joseph T. Goodman, from The Sagebrush Anthology: Literature from the Silver Age of the Old West)

1860s Minstrel Shows

I've been prospecting for primary source accounts of Minstrel Shows in the early 1860's... Here are a couple accounts lifted from Alf Doten's journals.

Sept 18, 1861- [San Francisco] Stephen & I went to Tuckers Academy of Music this evening - a sort of free and easy place - no ladies there - pretty good house - about 500 present - women waiters carrying round drinks cigars, &c that were ordered, among the audience - a long, varied and amusing performance - commenced with the male & female minstrels - 16 of them in all - Only 2 of them blacked, the tambourine (Walter Bray) and bones - ladies all in short skirts and tights - guitars, flutes, banjos, violins, &c - songs & grand chorus - jokes, conundrums &c - curtain fell - then followed lots of dancing, and songs, by single performers - pas de deux &c - whole wound up with a very laughable burlesque, entitled Norton the 1st or the Emperor of a day...

Oct 20 1862 - arrived at San Francisco a little after 11 oclock... Went up to Cofrans for supper - Hadsell there also - after supper he and I went to the Bella Union - full house - good company - male & female minstrels, about a dozen of them - Ned Buckley as "Brudder Bones" was the only one that was blacked up - gave us lots of songs, ballads, conundrums, fancy dances &c - Grand walk around - J H O'Neil gave us some of his No 1 jig dancing & the girls showed considerable leg - especially Miss Amanda Lee, who showed a splendid pair of the finest fat legs I ever looked at - in dancing she showed them completely up to her hips and we could see almost everything...

Sunday 14 Dec 1862 [San Francisco?] - At 7 oclock went to the "Athenaum" - in Stark's Theatre - free & easy - crowded house - 2 girls waiting upon the crowd with liquors, cigars &c - 2 & 4 bits admittance - Frank Medina & Gus Carl proprietors... jig and hornpipe by little Frank Medina, son of tother Frank - only some 8 or 9 yrs old - National song by Mrs Thomas - "We know no North, we know no South" - whole concluded with very laughable farce called the "Persecuted Dutchman" - Audience were well-pleased, and threw money upon the stage to Miss Paullin, also to little Frank, when they danced solo...

May 21, 1863 [San Francisco] evening I went to Gilbert's Melodeon - male and female minstrels &c ... songs, music, choruses, jokes &c  - Johnny De Angelis & Joe Murphy were blacked up - Grand medley walk around - best I ever saw - overtures, ballads, solos &c - Farce of the "Two Gregories" - whole concluded with the comic ballet of "the Vivandiere" - between pieces Md'lle Fleury, a French lady of fine operatic talents, appeared and sung, in all four ballads - "Napolitaine," "Don't let the Roses Listen" in English and two others in French - sings splendidly but speaks very poor English - The dancing was best I ever saw - Miss Lotta [Crabtree] is an A No 1 jig dancer but the comic little capering rogue of the evening was Jennie Worrell - She beats all I ever saw in her line - she danced some very comic, dashing, rattling, capering jigs and sung several comic and Irish songs - The whole performance was highly satisfactory and all the fun one could ask for one evening - No vulgarity...

Dec 26, 1863 [Como, Nevada] Evening performance Bryant & Case's minstrels - our troupe - doors open at 7 1/2 oclock - Martin & I played big drum, cymbals & fife in front of door half an hour - full house - 50 cts a ticket - lots of ladies present - at 8 oclock curtain rose - 8 of us on the stage - Cross's hall - Overture - sang several songs - plenty of gags, jokes, conundrums &c - Walk around by the company - I led the whole performance with violin - Lindsay played 2nd violin - Andrews did banjo a little - bones & tambourine - part 2nd, I & Lindsay were in the orchestra - solos, overtures, songs & dances, & little funny acts - were much applauded throughout the entire performance - Martin the Wizard followed with his trick  of the "magic rings" - then ventriloquism - & wound up with his dancing figures - the benches were then cleared away & we had a few quadrilles &c - I played - Lindsay helped some - we got nothing for it - The whole performance was a perfect success and a decided hit ... had terrible time washing black off tonight -

above: Martin the Wizard and his "magic rings" circa 1863

Mark Twain at work

I love these two glimpses into Sam Clemens' relaxed way of working. Both are taken from notes to the online collection of letters at the Mark Twain Project.

Mr. Clemens was a believer in personal comfort while at work. On hot days in particular he cast aside formalities—and a considerable portion of his clothing as well. At the outset he bought a comfortable lounging chair with a writing board hinged on to the arm, and it was no infrequent sight during the summer to find him nestled cosily in that chair, a pipe in his mouth and only a negligee shirt, trousers and socks in evidence as costume. His collar and shoes would most likely be in a waste basket and his hat, coat and waistcoat wherever they chanced to land when he cast them off. 
(Earl D. Berry, 1869)

And there was Mark Twain in a little back room, with a sheet-iron stove, a dirty, musty carpet of the cheapest description, a bed, and two or three common chairs. The little drum stove was full of ashes, running over on the zinc sheet; the bed seemed to be unmade for a week, the slops had not been carried out for a fortnight, the room was foul with tobacco smoke, the floor, dirty enough to begin with, was littered with newspapers, from which Twain had cut his letters. Then there were hundreds of pieces of torn manuscripts which had been written and then rejected by the author. A dozen pipes were about the apartment—on the wash-stand, on the mantel, on the writing table, on the chairs—everywhere that room could be found. And there was tobacco, and tobacco everywhere. One thing, there were no flies. The smoke killed them, and I am now surprised the smoke did not kill me too. Twain would not let a servant come into his room. He would strip down his suspenders (his coat and vest, of course, being off) and walk back and forward in slippers in his little room and swear and smoke the whole day long. Of course, at times he would work, and when he did work it was like a steam engine at full head...
(from “How ‘Innocents Abroad’ Was Written,” New York Evening Post, 20 Jan 1883)

above: Mark Twain looking very relaxed indeed!