Busey gives birth in Reno

“Okay, here’s how you recognize Gary Busey. The first thing you notice about him is his teeth—they’re big. Then you notice his unsettling intensity. He has an insane glint in his eyes, yet he is strangely likable. According to Gary, doctors have told him that he ‘was born with the energy of 10 men who have normal jobs.’ Whether from incessant cocaine use or a congenital condition, Gary Busey is just a little off.”
—www.buseyworld.com

OK, let’s set the scene. It’s a sunny, sunny day when photographer Dave Robert and I turn off into the warehouse district where the pilot for a possible new cable series is being shot. We park near a sign that says Doggy Day Care. Then we head into the looming darkness that is the set for The Shadowlands.

We are here because Gary Busey is here. Busey, Academy Award nominee, occasional Promise Keeper and all-around weirdo, stars as Onticree, an evil, oppressive ruler of an alien universe, in the pilot for this series being developed and produced locally by Matthew Kilburn, president of Gamma Films.

Kilburn produced the award-winning film The Harvesters in 1999. I know this from reading the press kit, which also says that “The Shadowlands will provide positive economic impact to the region as it continues to look for and utilize local cast, crew, warehouse (soundstage) facilities and support services.”

This is good. Reno needs all the positive economic impact it can get. But that’s really not why Dave and I are here. We are here for Busey.

We enter and immediately run into people we know, local people. Busey is nowhere in sight. He is dressing.

“What are you doing here? What is it that you seek?” one such local person asks me.

“Same as you. Here to see the star.”

The set is relatively quiet. Dave is cautioned repeatedly to be careful about taking Busey’s picture. Here are the rules: Don’t take any pictures when he’s rehearsing. Don’t take any pictures when he’s acting. Don’t take any pictures when he’s changing. Maybe Dave had better just wait for stagehands to give him the nod before he takes any pictures at all.

Dave is fine with this, by the way. Photojournalism is Dave’s day job. At night, he shoots rock stars. He’s taken photos of U2, Ozzy, Marilyn Manson, Elton John, Union Underground and dozens of other bands.

I talk to a few of the locals, like Dave Richards of Reno, who’s playing Busey’s page. Actor Robert Blake’s son, Noah, was supposed to play the page. But the deal fell through. A couple of hundred actors auditioned and Richards got the part.

“They tell me I’m the right-hand man,” Richard says. “All my scenes are with Gary Busey.”

One actor goes over lines while someone stencils an alien emblem on the back of his shaved head. Makeshift walls are painted a bland beige. Piles of sand lie in one area, an old mattress in another. The coming Busey scenes, though, are being shot on a loveseat atop a dais.

Amy Mesner, who does public relations for Gamma Films, reminds me that the pilot is being shot in 24P/HD, the same digital film technology being used by Lucasfilms on the next Star Wars prequel. After the pilot is finished, it will be shopped around to interested broadcasters. The initial release of The Shadowlands could be sometime in December.

Gary Busey appears out of the dressing room. I barely notice him. He’s looking a little heavy. Rotund, even. I’ve been told that Busey hasn’t agreed to any interviews except possibly at Saturday’s “wrap” party. So I don’t approach Busey. Yet a staffer pulls me into the dressing room.

“He’s very temperamental,” I am warned in a stage whisper. “He just reamed us out over the Gazette-Journal’s photographer.”

The rules for photos are repeated. I restate my confidence in rock star photographer Dave.

Busey finishes going over lines with a woman, obviously doing some improv: “You have served me well … go polish my boots.” She smiles hesitantly. Busey yells: “Be ready for anything!” Then he heads for his stage.

“This white tape on the camera, is it my eyeline?”

I hear murmur, murmur in response.

“Mr. Director? Captain, sir? Where is my eyeline?”

Murmur, murmur. Busey is so loud and assertive that all else pales, fades into the, umpf, shadows. I decide he’s perfect for the role of bad guy Onticree even before I’ve seen a minute of filming. The star reclines on the divan, and the cameras start rolling. The room gets silent. Almost. Turns out that there’s a bit of howling from the adjacent Doggy Day Care.

“Damn dogs,” someone mutters.

The first scene is a disaster. Busey globs all over his lines and restarts and messes up.

“Let’s do it again right now!” he commands. He ascends the dais and stops, turns and addresses the minions with a magnanimous wave of his arms.

“I just want to say that I know your hearts are in this picture-making,” he says. “And I come here as a gift to you, to the community. I want to support you in any way I can. I’m very giving that way.”

The room is again nearly silent but for the yowling canines. Then, someone starts clapping and soon, many are applauding. Busey, in the meantime, adjusts his fake belly. “Need any help with that package?” someone asks, laughing—and, chuckle, chuckle, everyone is at ease. Busey reclines on the couch once again, wondering if his character would be better off barefooted. He is told that the black things on his feet are already quite nondescript. The shooting resumes.

After two more tries, Busey decides that he has done it. His lines are right on. He’s also devised a few quirky new moves by the alien leader. Like pointing a scepter fiercely at the camera and jerking himself awake by shaking his head much like a ferocious terrier with a rodent.

Then Busey and Kilburn perch on tall chairs at the edge of the set.

“So, buddy, how’d you like that?”

“It’s great, really. It’s really taking form.”

Busey’s voice is loud, intense, excited.

“We’re giving birth to something here," he says. "I can feel it."