MOVIES - ON THE SET - Here comes a toy story of a different stripe - The makers of 'Mr. Magorium's' don't shy from kids, chaos or zebras.
TORONTO — The thing about having a zebra in your film is that if you need one, you're going to need two because zebras are herd animals. And for the second zebra, you'll need a pony so he'll have someone to hang with while the first one is shooting. But even with his entourage present, a relatively non-diva-like zebra is perfectly capable of balking at simple stage directions -- "sit on couch," for example -- choosing instead to break an irreplaceable Tiffany lamp that has already been established in previous shots. Also a coffee table.
Which is why most directors, especially first-time directors, choose not to include a zebra in their films. They tend to avoid animals in general, as well as children and big, fussy sets that require a million camera setups.
Zach Helm, however, figures if you're going to make your directorial debut, you might as well do it with a movie called "Mr. Magorium's Wonder Emporium," which is about a magical toy shop. And if you make a movie about a magical toy shop, then you will need a zebra or two. Not to mention a goose, a lemur, dozens of children and a set so full of toys, so evocative of whimsy and wonder, so floor-to-ceiling magnificent that every shot is a ballet of execution -- but the light technicians, not to mention the stars, will occasionally grow faint from the rising heat.
Last year, the vivid heart of every child's ultimate dream beat in a Toronto soundstage for seven glorious weeks. "Mr. Magorium's Wonder Emporium," which opens Nov. 16, is about a toy store that rebels when its ancient but still lively original owner, Mr. Magorium (Dustin Hoffman), decides to pass it on to his comely but insecure assistant, Molly (Natalie Portman). The action takes place almost entirely in the store, and although some of the magic was later provided by computer graphics, the store is undeniably, certifiably real. A warehouse of toys, an explosion of toys, an FAO Schwarz by way of Willy Wonka wonderland of toys. Indeed, the set contains 10,000 of them, rises two stories and occupies 7,000 square feet of floor space.
Amid the rubber ducks and Legos and puppets, it's difficult to spot the bank of monitors and phalanx of director's chairs that mark where Helm, his assistant directors, producers, various actors and technicians huddle. Helm is a quiet sort of director, not prone to jumping up or shouting instructions. He prefers to meet with the cast an hour before filming begins to sort through scenes, and chat quietly with them between takes to offer suggestions or reassurance. With kids and toys and zebras, the last thing "Magorium" needed was a screaming director.
