Page 41 - AVN September 2016

him he’s my half-brother, so I’ve kind of
weaved this web ...”
Carrera muses, “The interesting thing
about this movie is that it points out
the gaps in logic of this kind of moral
structure that sometimes comes along
with religion. Because here you have this
pastor who claims to care about the weak
and the downtrodden, and claims to love
everybody, and yet when it comes down to
it he’s pushed just as easily to sin but he
won’t even confront it. Lana and Xander
are honest with themselves about who they
are.”
For Carrera, “This was a good
opportunity to act—I really love acting.
Which is something I didn’t realize until I
got into pornography.”
The call comes for quiet on the set—
another dialogue scene, this one involving
the preacher and his kin. Corvus is also
there—but literally outside looking in.
The crew busily tries to figure out the best
way to implement Armstrong’s vision and
capture the family praying while Billy peers
in a window, as well as a shot from Billy’s
point of view. Production manager David
Lord serves as a stand-in for Armstrong
while he checks the camera angles. As
he mimes a prayer, Lord looks as if he’s
worried he’ll be struck by divine lightning.
“Oh, it’s so weird,” he jokes.
Once that’s in the can, it’s time for
dinner. Evening is approaching—everyone’s
been here for hours and they will stay well
into the night, but spirits are high. It’s the
last day, and the consensus is this will be a
job well done.
The Preacher’s Daughter is scheduled for a
September 14 release from Wicked Pictures.
Morality Plays Opposite page, a confrontation between
Alexis Fawx and Xander Corvus. Above, Mercedes Carrera as
Lana, the town hooker.
Blood Will Tell
In the set for Wicked’s DNA
“Hello?”
Phone rings, caller ID says Brad Armstrong.
“Tod! Brad Armstrong. What are you doing next
Thursday? I have a movie I’m shooting, I’d like
you to play a part in it.”
“Are you sure? The last time I was in a movie for you it
didn’t work out so well.” (Author’s note: I was dreadful. My
performance didn’t make the final cut, and rightly so.)
“Heh. You’re perfect for this one. Quick non-sex role.
Can you make it?”
“Sure.”
The next day, the pages for the movie, titled DNA, drop
into my email box. My character is a clone, reconstructed
from a DNA sample taken after he was diagnosed with
Alzheimer’s, by request of his daughter. Confused and
childlike. He has two lines. I think this is within my
abilities. Okay, how do I do it? I remember Elsa Lanchester
at a long-ago screening saying she wanted the Bride of
Frankenstein to jerk her head around like a curious baby
bird. No, this is a father figure. He would move slowly,
carefully, trying to remember. I put off getting a haircut and
don’t shave.
On the set, while waiting for my scene, I am jolted by
Small Hands’ explosive performance as an angry customer
of the cloning company. Turns out the clone he ordered
didn’t live up to his expectations, and he is Not Happy.
More like Outraged. Furious. Borderline violent. Impressive
performance. The acting bar is being set high here.
Sex educator Ashley Manta is playing my daughter.
When the Small Hands scene wraps, I am brought to
the makeshift wardrobe room and given my costume: a
shapeless beige top and matching drawstring pants. “Go
barefoot, they all do,” Armstrong directs. “Asa was barefoot
yesterday.” Jessica asks Ashley and me if we want to run
lines. Sure. We crowd together, a tight circle oblivious to
the activity around us. Jessica bears down on her lines,
businesslike, not exactly hard but professional. Ashley
is enthusiastic and happy. Seems us clones only have a
72-hour shelf life. I decide to act as if my character doesn’t
comprehend this. I brighten up when Ashley invites me for
ice cream and try to build that with my exit line, “Can I get
the kind with the colored sprinkles on top?”
We run through it several times. It’s an emotional scene.
Ashley has reconstituted her father, but she only gets him
for 72 hours. She and Jessica both know this, but I don’t.
And I may never know. And all I have to do is be happy
about ice cream and ignore all this life-and-death business.
We go to the set and Armstrong blocks the scene. Jessica
and I walk in through a door and meet Ashley, and Ashley
jumps up and hugs me as Jessica explains the protocol
to her. I follow the sound of the voices, and react quickly
when I’m offered the ice cream. After some notes and a
change of camera placement so Ashley and I can exit easily,
we take our positions to start the scene.
Behind the door, Jessica and I chat, quietly, getting ready.
“Action!” We walk out, Ashley jumps up, throws an arm
around me. I try my best to look confused, only following
the sound of the voices. I keep looking at Jessica, trying to
not focus, when I hear my cue line: “Hey dad, want to go
out for some ice cream?”
Full attention on Ashley: “You bet!”
On our exit, Brad has a sudden inspiration: “Tod, on your
way out, repeat the line about the sprinkles. Like you don’t
remember from a minute ago.”
Bombshell. This drops the floor out of the scene from
happy family reunion to temporary/nothing’s changed/
tragic. It’s an effective change that adds a lot of resonance
to the scene.
Back to one. Once we’re hidden behind the door, Jessica
says, “Excuse me a minute” and retreats to a corner of the
stage, back turned. I see her stand straight and take deep
breaths. The emotion of the scene is hitting her hard. She
comes back, smiling, and says, “Let’s go.”
“Action!”
Safely out of camera range, Ashley and I share a look.
It was tough, it was an emotional scene, but WE DID IT.
We’re still holding hands. “Cut!” Jessica walks up, smiling,
teary. “I’m so glad that’s over. That was tough.” Ashley and
I reach for her and we fall into a three-way hug, drained,
exhilarated, and triumphant.
Maybe I’ll make the final cut this time.
—Tod Hunter
DNA is scheduled for a September 30 release from Wicked Pictures.
Send in the Clones Top, Jessica Drake, Asa Akira and Small Hands. Bottom,
director Brad Armstrong and Drake in the laboratory.
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