Sylar and Bennet, Live in Griffith Park
“I’m sitting in a railway station, got a ticket for my destination…”
Zach and I warble, approximating harmony if never fully achieving it.
We’re driving around a suburban street (there’s no other kind) in Santa Clarita. More accurately, we’re being towed in a “Company” car. We don’t actually do any of the driving ourselves, we fake it. Acting, I believe it’s called. Sylar and Bennet are on a mission to find Steven Canfield, who has the ability to create black holes — not of the Landlady variety, of the astrophysical variety. Vortexes.
While the cameras role, we drip contempt for each other. When the cameras stop, and we are towed back to our starting place to repeat the scene using a different lens or a wider angle, or because Zach messed up; we bust out our Simon and Garfunkel repertoire, rusty and limited though it is. I feel sorry for our director, Anthony Hemingway (great name, great guy, great director) who has his headphones on and is subjected to harmonies that are remarkably Gregorian.
Everyone else who is wearing headphones discards them immediately, partly to avoid the “singing,” partly to avoid that special embarrassment of overhearing something you weren’t supposed to and really didn’t want to hear in the first place. Val, our script coordinator, Ken, our sound mixer, and Adam, our writer/producer, are also wearing headphones to listen to the scene that’s in a different car from the tow car in which they are riding.
At first, they are mildly amused and curious. By take five, they yank their headphones off so fast they get earburn. Zach and I don’t mind. To us, “The Boxer” never sounded so good.
“In a clearing stands a boxer and a fighter by his trade.” Maybe we’ll take it on the road.