David Blaine: Drowned Alive? Part VI
Posted By Paul Kotik on 8 May 2006
Tick Tock
With exactly 24 hours left to get it all right, it’s gut check time at Lincoln Center. Everybody has a script. Most people have the latest version. The run-through starting at 8 PM tonight is a full dress rehearsal for the Grand Finale.
The crowd has been moved back from the sphere, but presses against the outer barriers. My new buddy A., the US Marine and Deputy Sheriff, is off-duty but shows up anyway. Eight years in the Corps and a Middle Eastern war under his belt taught A. a bit about things like endurance, and pain – he’s now a Blaine fan. The security contractor he part-times for has thirty hard men deployed tonight and will maintain that force level until the event ends.
The area around the sphere is now a television sound stage. Show business rules the roost. Kirk Krack stands on the ramp, alone with David Blaine in the cameras’ cross-hairs. A monstrous boom with a remote-operated camera swoops over the set, finding those impossible shots, while a helicopter hovers absolutely still about 1,000 up and to the east. Pedal-to-the-metal Big Time Network Television.
Copyright 2006 Paul Kotik/DeeperBlue.net
The run-through is in real time, with the narrator's voice booming over the massed loudspeaker arrays. The spectators are eager participants, obliging the master of ceremonies with lusty roars, whistles and catcalls. The action pauses for commercial spots, the ones that will pay the bills and rake in the profits for tomorrow’s broadcast. It wraps a few minutes ahead of schedule, with all setups paid off and all loops closed. The suits at ABC will love that – a few more minutes’ commercial time to sell.
The script is in continuous revision – that’s de rigeur for productions of this sort. The version played out this night served as my come-uppance.
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