Decades ago, I was working at Raleigh Studios as a production coordinator for the Director Tarsem. I don’t remember what job we were doing.
My Mom was flying to California for a visit, and had booked a car service to pick her up. Since I was going to be working all day, I suggested she come by the studio and see what I did for a living. It wasn’t going to be too exciting, but her arrival would coincide with lunch, and I could then give her the keys to my apartment.
So mom showed up on set in early February, wearing her full-length mink coat. It was snowing back east, so she dressed appropriately for the East Coast, but not the West. Since she was in a town car with a driver and luggage, the guards let her drive through the security gate.
She comes into a dark studio, sees me, we hug and say hello, but are whispering since we are recording sound.
Mom watched for about five minutes and got a little bored. We were running late for lunch, so I suggested she wander around the studio, as it’s the oldest running studio in Hollywood, built in 1908. While it’s not as recognizable as Paramount across the street, or Universal with it’s backlots, it’s still pretty interesting. I tell her we will break for lunch in 20 minutes and to join us.
She disappears out the door, into the bright sunlight wearing her mink.
We break for lunch. Mom has not returned. We eat, and no one has seen my mom. It was the days before everyone had a cell phone, and she’s nowhere to be found. Her town car is still waiting for her, but the driver has not seen her.
Lunch ends, 45 minutes later. We head back onto stage. I’m getting concerned. How could she have gotten lost on the lot?
Another hour goes by. Her town car is still waiting. I walk outside, very concerned now that something bad may have happened.
As I’m looking around for her, the huge elephant doors open to the stage opposite, and Meryl Streep and Goldie Hawn walk out, with their assistants, followed by a hundred well-dressed extras. They were filming the movie “DEATH BECOMES HER” and had just broken for lunch. My mom, not knowing protocol, had wandered onto their set, dressed perfectly for a big party scene, and was shepherded around by Second A.D.s . She appears in the movie for a split second if you know when to freeze frame and where to look.
She waved, walked over to me, decided she’d had enough for the day, got in the car, and went to my apartment. And that’s the power of her Mink coat. (It’s since been recycled and made into two handbags)