[This was originally posted on X DOT COM. Putting it here for posterity.]
There was this guy called The Wizard. He was one of those amazing characters you only find in Hollywood.
He could, and did, make anything at the last minute.
The same day even.
I say he could make anything but it was mostly wardrobe related items. Something we always got from him was sports jerseys.
We’d be doing some pro sports related project. These always got produced before the start of the season so it could be aired in time for the first games. So we’d be doing, say, an NFL spot. And we’d have the actual NFL players. But we’d need jerseys.
The team won’t give us their jerseys. And you can’t buy the jerseys before the season. Due to last minute trades, the companies that make “authentic” jerseys for fans don’t manufacture them until right before the season. They don’t want to make a bunch and then be stuck with them after a player is traded.
But The Wizard could do it. He could make the starting line for Dallas Cowboys with a 48 hour turnaround. He’d even make duplicates.
My wife the costumer would use him for patches (for companies, law enforcement, military etc.). She also used him for custom t-shirts. Maybe there was a scene with a 5k fun run. He’d kick 100s of t-shirts out in a day.
He’d also do decals, and even fake IDs and credit cards for the prop department.
He was one of those New Yorkers who ends up in LA and never really assimilated to the laid back West Coast culture. He always sounded angry and bitchy but he was just his New York self.
One time I had a director who wanted the banana from the cover of that Velvet Underground album embroidered on the back of a Levis jacket. So I picked up the phone and called The Wizard. I can’t remember his real name, because I always called him “Wizard”.
“Hi Wizard this is Rambo Van Halen and I need the banana from the Velvet Underground album cover on the back of a Levis jacket.”
And in his heavy New Yawk accent he said something like “Hey Rambo, I just saw your wife! And yes I can make you a patch BUT DO YOU FUCKING REALIZE THAT THE FUCKING BANANA IS AN ANDY FUCKING WARHOL PAINTING AND THEY WILL SUE YOUR FUCKING ASS OFF IF YOU USE IT?”
Now, I did know this. But when a director asks you for something you get it. I’ll let the lawyers figure out the Andy Fucking Warhol clearance issues. I tell him as much--that’s it not my problem just please get the patch and we need it tomorrow.
He responds with a “Sure not problem” but then he launches into a 20 minute tirade about all the fucking hack directors stealing other peoples art and what a terrible artist Andy Fucking Warhol was and how the fuck why would you rip off the art of a ripoff artist like Andy Fucking Warhol. I’m listening on the phone and laughing my ass off. I’m laughing so hard everyone in the (open floorplan) office is staring wondering what’s so funny.
After his little outburst he again agreed to do it, we settled on a price, and he delivered 24 hours later. But by that point the director had forgotten all about the shot with the hot chick in the Levis jacket. So we never shot it and we never got our asses sued by the fucking Warhol Foundation.
The Wizard got sick and died. I think it was cancer. I heard about it after the fact. I had moved up past the phase where I was calling people for shit. By the time of his passing I was asking other people to call people for shit.
We needed some random prop and I told my production team to call The Wizard. Because he’s the best.
And he can get it done.
Because he’s “the guy.”
And someone told me he died. And there was no more The Wizard.
I was driving home today. Sweet Jane came up on the playlist. And I thought about The Wizard.
I miss that guy. But I’m sure someone took his place.
There’s always room for another Wizard in Hollywood.
I wonder how common this is. I worked with a NY transplant at a client in SoCal, Fucking Tony. He would walk into the office and greet us with "Hey, you guys okay in here? You need some more fucking chairs in here or something?"
Rumor is the laid-back Californians didn't like his New York ways, but they couldn't get rid of him because he got shit done.
Damn he was like one of those US immigrant Scandos who speaks old Swedish because he's been cut off from the mother tongue for 150 years. Almost no one in NYC has a New York accent anymore. You have to go out to Nassau county or the northeast Bronx to find the rare specimen these days.
I can do various NY accents - Brooklyn, Queens, Bronx and sometimes I slip into my childhood accent - sort of a Bronx/Brooklyn mashup since that's where I grew up. But find one in the wild? Not in years.