New Mexico is like a small town, buzzing over the latest tidbit of news about the filming of the movie The Milagro Beanfield War, in Truchas, a village north of Santa Fe. Nothing else is going on this end of summer; the politicians are laying low and school hasn’t started. Newspapers report on the latest from the set. The question of the day is whether Redford is 49 or 50.
The movie is about water. Not exactly, but because I write about water and the movie is about a fight over water, I get assigned to write about the film. Robert Redford is directing the movie. With the blessing of my boss, I go off in search of Robert Redford, purely in the name of information.
It’s on
I take the interstate north, put on my “Out of Africa” tape and cruise on over to Truchas. I arrive in late in the afternoon where it is green and quiet. One or two cars are on the road. At the intersection though, suddenly there’s activity and I see cars parked along a dirt side road. I drive down and walk back up to where workers are constructing a church and storefronts. I ask for the publicist, giving the construction worker my little speech about who I am and how I want to interview Robert Redford. “There’s 200 people on this production and I’ve never heard of him,” he says.
When I get to the main lot all I see is a truck being painted to look like its a forest service truck. A friendly guy named Leonard is more helpful and directs me where to find the 1st AD, the Assistant Director I had called at the beginning of my search. A stern woman with a clipboard warns me that they are on a tight schedule. I scoot by her and continue my search for the 1st AD.
I find a super parking spot next to the entrance where they’ve scraped off a field for the set. An extremely polite policeman comes up and in the way cops talk just before they hand you your ticket, tells me I can’t park there as shooting begins soon. He directs me to where to park. I ask him to hold my camera, since it’s so far to the parking spot, hoping he’ll say yes and let me in when I get back. It works.
I see a California-looking guy sitting in a truck so I figure everyone is on lunch break. When I ask where to find the AD, he says “All the ADs wear headsets.” I don’t see any, just lots of young men wearing surfing teeshirts, or no shirts at all. They’re all tan.
Sonia Braga’s hair
A security guard notices me. He’s a guy named Reggie who has been hired out of Taos for the job. He says I can’t go on the set until the security chief lets me on. The chief gives the ok, and Reggie escorts me on the set. Turns out he knows John Nichols (the author of Milagro Beanfield War and a resident of Taos) and the other producer Montesuma Esparza. Reggie says Nichols is a good guy, adding that Nichols’ wife is beautiful, “great hair.” He tells me I can take pictures as long as I stay out of the way when they’re filming. He points out the female lead, whose name, “Sonia Braga,” is printed on the back of a director’s chair. I have no idea who she is but she also has terrific hair. Another chair back says “Robert Redford.” I take a picture of his chair just in case I don’t get the real thing.
I’m in
Reggie and I talk about the El Paso water suit. He’s up on the issues. He says he writes and has worked on video production. As we are talking, Robert Redford walks about ten feet in front of me. No small talk, no hiya folks, just down to business. I take a couple of shots. He’s wearing jeans, a long-sleeved white shirt and a white “Out of Africa” hat. Definitely star quality. Great posture.
A fat man with a camera begins taking pictures of an old man in makeup. I think it’s a pretty good idea myself and casually walk over to a fake adobe house. Redford is quietly talking to some of the crew. I get a great shot just as I hear an authoritative “Who’s that?” I know he means me. I give him my standard speech and my card. “Mr. Redford doesn’t like a lot of photos being taken,” he says, adding that the official photographer is the (fat) guy. Then another AD comes up and starts questioning me. I’m ready to head home anyway.
I’m out
Reggie is waiting outside by the police car. When he sees me being led off the lot, he shakes his head. “You should have waited for Robin Miller, I could have gotten you an interview,” he scolds. I feel like I’ve let him down. “Did they take your film?” he asks. No, I say. “Well, at least you got that.” He assures me he won’t get into trouble because he checked with the 1st AD. “It was the 2nd AD who threw you out.” I thank him and head down the dusty road back to my car, passing the polite policeman on the way. “Did you get your pictures?” he asks.
It’s been a long day and I didn’t get to interview Redford, but I got his picture. Back on the road, I shove a tape in the deck and head for Santa Fe listening to “The Best of the Beach Boys.”
OMG! Redford is 87
Delightful! So very you! Love the photo, too!