Forrester Young wanted a smaller cigarette.
The prop man—everybody on the set called him Props—was summoned and the problem was explained. But Props didn’t understand. He turned to his assistant, who was also his daughter. He said to her, “Aren’t cigarettes cigarettes?”
“These cigarettes are too big for the frame,” the director said. “Forrester’s face is getting overwhelmed.”
The prop man’s daughter said, “Filterless.”
“No,” said Forrester Young. “No!”
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What Props did back at his workbench was nip a quarter inch from both ends and conceal the tiny logo with a light brown paint. Then he traced on another logo a little higher up.
He showed the new, smaller cigarette to his daughter. She held up crossed fingers, ever hopeful. They left their cramped-but-neat workspace and headed for the set.
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The director studied the cigarette, comparing it to his brand. But he offered no comment as he passed it along to his assistant and sent for Forrester Young.
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When Forrester Young emerged from his trailer, he was given the cigarette. He asked for a mirror. The make up lady held up a small mirror, and Forrester Young brought the cigarette to his mouth and pretended to smoke. He took his mark and told the director he was ready for a take.
The close-up camera was put into position. The director asked for quiet on the set. Props lit the cigarette for Forrester Young with a disposable lighter. The director whispered, “Action.”
“Listen to me, baby,” Forrester Young said to the female lead who wasn’t really there because she hadn’t been cast yet, but who was going to be a blond and would be edited into the scene later on. “I have to go away for awhile. It isn’t …”
But before he could say another word, laughter erupted on the set. There was brown paint on Forrester Young’s lips.
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Props turned his visor around catcher’s style and brought the overhead light down closer to his left shoulder.
His daughter stood behind him, watching. He could hear her breathing. He was frequently asked to make miniature version of common household items, like telephones, milk cartons, cameras. The reduced scale of a given prop—a doctor’s stethoscope, a police officer’s firearm, a judge’s gavel—had a way of making a smallish actor appear full-size on screen.
Props pinched the tobacco out of a cigarette without tearing the paper and removed the filter. He stood the empty paper cylinder on its end beside the pile of tobacco and turned his attention to the filter.
With a sharp razor, he sliced into the filter. The way the tightly wound cotton fiber expanded and pushed through its wrapping reminded him of how his morning newspaper unfolded itself after he’d roll the elastic off of it.
Forrester Young had said the cigarette not only had to be smaller lengthwise, it also had to be smaller in diameter. As Props hollowed out the filter, he heard Forrester Young’s deep resonating voice in his ear, carefully instructing him, telling him exactly how much filter to leave, how to repack the tobacco, close the opened filter and piece together the new cigarette. Once done, he set to taking apart and making a second cigarette.
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In his driveway, Props—his name was Martin Fahey—told his daughter he wanted to stay in the car for a few minutes longer. She had driven home that night because they took turns every other day and it had been her turn. Before she got out of their car she asked her father if he wanted her to sit with him.
“No,” he said. “I’ll be in in a minute. I just feel like we got home too soon today.”
His daughter said, “I didn’t go over the limit.”
He smiled at her and told her she should go inside.
He found a book of matches in the glove compartment. He lit the second smaller cigarette that he had made, remembering how pleased Forrester Young had been with his cigarette and how well the scene came off and how, years ago, you used to be able to smoke in movie theaters. He once made it a point to see every movie that he worked. And, really, people smoked in movie theatres. He smoked a pipe back then, like his father, but he gave it up for Lent and found that he didn’t miss it.