Being Brother Patrick of St. Joseph in Abdul Taib Mahmud: An Untold Story-Part I

          

             

Alex passed the phone to Michele who works for Film Makers Company who in turn was hired by Pixbugs Studio, in charge of Production, to do the casting and wardrobe.  She informed me that auditions would end in a few days, so I made an appoint­ment for Thursday afternoon.  I dropped off one of my sons at St. Joseph Secondary School, slipped on my Covid-19 pandemic face mask and arrived at their office.

After filling in my per­sonal details and measurements, Michele passed me my lines.  A lot of lines.  I had a mo­ment of panic.  Although I have been an extra in four feature films, including Indochine, which won an Oscar for Best Foreign Language Film, I’ve never had to interact and exchange lines with other actors before (not even in plays, although I’ve been a stage manager for several Penang Players productions).

I did take part in two French documentaries, one on Somerset Maugham and the other Joseph Conrad.  For both projects, I extensive­ly researched my subjects and expounded upon what I had learned, their ties to Sarawak.

 

Exchanging dialogue with an­other actor is quite different.  You have to listen closely, react accordingly, and speak your lines on cue.  The church scene was a very long dialogue sequence between Taib and Brother Patrick at a crucial junction in the film.

Not sure I was up to it, I considered bailing on the project, but Sam, who was Michele’s boss, came over and gave me a pep talk and encouraged me to try out since I was there.  Due to Covid-19 there weren’t that many expatriates in Kuching in my age category who could (or wanted to) act.  Ok, so may­be they were desperate.

Michele gave me some time to mem­orize my lines.  She then filmed me as I stated my name, age, height, and previous acting experience.  I then had to act out four emotions: Happy, Sad, Angry and Excited.

“Have you ever done this before?”

“No,” I replied, but found it fun.  The less fun part was remembering my lines which I kept flubbing, even skipping whole paragraphs, but eventually I got the hang of it.  After a few takes they convinced me that I did fine.

At home, I still contemplated bailing since I was in the middle of a long writing project and didn’t want to break my momentum.  Then I figured someone else would get the part.  That didn’t happen.  Late Friday,  I got the call.  I was in.  So was Alex.

                                                                                               

          

Jocelyn-Art Director and Melissa-Makeup Artist studied my face—an unnerving experience having two young ladies conferring back and forth on the flaws of my face up-close and per­sonal and what they would need to do to make me look more like Brother Patrick since a total facelift was out of the question (and out of their budget).  Alex got the same treat­ment.

  Brother Patrick

  Brother Charles            

Rehearsals went well since we could look at our scripts if necessary.  The school rally song went horribly wrong.  Some of the students knew it by heart, the rest of us were clueless.  Someone found the music and the words on YouTube, so we tried to follow along.  Later I asked my son if he had a copy of the school rally and he passed me a notebook that had the words on the back, so I cut it out and kept a copy in my car.  Turned out there was more than one version, so I had to amend it accordingly.

         

A Taib Production Talent group was set up on WhatsApp to keep us informed of production details and shooting schedules.  Plus, a second group, Cast for Untold Story, to ease com­muni­ca­tion between the director and the principal cast, which included updated copies of the script and video references for the main characters so they could see the facial expressions and mannerisms of those whom they would portray. 

I suggested a few editing changes in my lines to improve emphasis, which were readily accepted and caused additional updated scripts.  Alester and Bernie were very accommodating.

Filming would take place on Wednesday, Sarawak Day, at Carmelite Monastery, and then on Saturday and Sunday at St. Joseph.  By Tuesday most of the lines that I had mem­orized got changed.  They were changed again when we were handed the new script on Wednesday.

I was told to bring black shoes, not to wear my wedding ring, and was given a pair of round glasses, which made it difficult to see, but gave me a rather nice Harry Potter look.

           

No one said anything about a white t-shirt to wear un­derneath the white cas­sock.  For some reason I thought the cassock would be dark…burgundy perhaps.  Luckily, they had a spare t-shirt.  Later, I realized that I had over­looked that detail buried within all the other messages.  I then brought a spare t-shirt for Garrett, another Brother involved with the Sunday shoot, who was under the impression he was to wear a white dress shirt, not a white t-shirt.  Miscommunications happen.

Melissa slicked back my hair and did the makeup.  Meanwhile Ezmir and I ran through our lines.  Once we were ready, we were driven to the set, to the chapel at the Carmelite Monastery.  For the shoot that morning there was only three actors, but 30 for production! Most were from Pixbugs, some from Film Makers, others were freelancers.  

                                                           

                                                          

                                                            
While they filmed the two students shyly entering the chapel, sitting on a back pew, and then making their way up the aisle towards my character, I had plenty of time to go over my lines.  Sam from Film Makers dropped by and told me that he was glad that I got the part, which made me feel good.  I didn’t ask how many others I had beaten out just in case I was the only one.  (I think there was one other person who came in second place…Covid-19, what to do?)

Later, I found a secluded place in the monastery so I could practice rising from a seated position and saying my lines—out of eyesight and earshot of everyone else.  Or so I thought.  Suddenly a door opened, and I found myself face to face with an elderly nun who gazed sus­pi­ci­ously at me dressed in a cassock.  She said she heard someone talking and thought I needed to be let in.  I apologized for disturbing her and explained my presence.  I hoped that I had her bless­ing and not a curse for disturbing her peace as I went back to rehearsing my lines.   

                                                                                                                      

Finally, I was allowed inside the chapel and guided to the second pew and briefed.  For effect, smoke was created by waving a carpet, which added to the stuffi­ness inside.  With the cameras rolling, I would start by kneeling, then I would sit back in my pew.  Two students would appear at my side.

                                                           

Surprised at seeing them, I would stand to greet them and then listen to their formal request to leave classes early on Fridays to attend prayers at the mosque.

           

                                                                                                                                                                                                                 

Occasionally they would forget to let me up while they conferred on the various takes, adjusting the prayer beads, and making sure that the cross draped over my hand appropriate­ly.  I felt the pain in my knees and lower back since I was kneeling in an awk­ward angle to get the right height among the pews for the cameras, which were moved to various positions.  I was perspiring from the strain, which the director noted and duly apologized.

                                                                      Beheaded on the Road to Nation­hood—Part II 
Somerset Maugham and Me—Part I-V 

Joseph Conrad and Me