A Big Apple

Friday the 22nd August. We notice that the street parking on Revay utca has been taped off - but the tapes don't look terribly official... nonetheless, something is clearly afoot. We wonder what it will be.

Saturday morning it's a bit noisy a bit too early. Music and a strange tinnily nasal Hungarian voice fill the street. Roused unnecessarily early from slumber I take a peek outside and discover that they are making a film. Closer inspection reveals that Revay has become W45th St in New York and in the middle of the street, in front of the stationary yellow cabs, the flatbed truck with a grand piano on the back (how does that fit into the story?), the NYPD police car and behind NYPD barriers a man is dancing to the aforementioned music... in the spray of what is obviously supposed to be a high pressure water leak (but in best Hollywood style is merely a fire-engine powered fountain).

	The pneumatic drill has no hose and the man with the pickaxe is being very careful not to dig up the road - and the dancer really seems to be enjoying himself; it's clearly refreshing in the spray - or it would have been had they been shooting on one of those days when it was 38C here. Today it's a bit chilly and I suspect that there is more acting going on than there might have been.
	But the man with the comic-book hero face just keeps on dancing. I wonder what sort of film it is - obviously some sort of feel-good flick. Except that I doubt he does. In and out of the cold water he goes. Action. Happy dancing. Cut. Cold shivering and a vigorous towelling down and maybe a shudder of relief as he steps into the warmth of the hot-air blower specially provided. Over and over and over again. Art hurts.
	By early evening the poor chap has been done in long shot, tracking shot, and close up from so many angles they finally have whatever they want. What do they want? What is this "feel-good movie" going to be about? The presence of the green-screen and through-the-windshield camera work suggests some gritty dialogue and tense action in and around the police car. Perhaps dancing-man was a water-terrorist who deliberately sabotaged the water supply and was only dancing in celebration at his success and New York's finest have nabbed him at last.
	I'm dying to know what this is all about and grab the big camera and very long lens to take a peek at the shooting script. The grand piano clearly plays a significant role in the story but I am none the wiser.
	At long last I spot another copy of the script on a table about50m away... a tricky shot this but there it is. It's an ad, a Diet Coke ad. I still have no idea what the piano's about, but the rest of it makes sense now. In the sweltering heat (of about 20C) Coke refreshes, although side effects may include St Vitus' dance...