ON THE MAKING OF RESURRECTION

by Mitch Kosterman

The whole thing was very tricky. The underwater stuff we shot for Resurrection was done in a tank called the "Saucer Tank" at Sony Studios in Culver City, California. Sony Studios is the old MGM Studios near the Los Angeles International Airport. They flew that Mustang down and plunked it right into the tank. Then they plunked Dana and I in there for a thirteen and a half hour day.

There was extensive preparation and there were plenty of experienced divers on hand. I was not one of them. In fact, I had only become a PADI certified diver the day before I flew to California. Dana has been diving for years.

Off camera there were, at all times, at least three support divers: the Stunt Coordinator, a person responsible for my personal air tank, and my Emergency Diver. The Stunt Coordinator was the supervisor of all the divers on set. He played the guy who swims up to Dana's face. My personal air tank was held by a young woman who's only responsibility was to make sure I always had my air. She would get it back to me as fast as possible and kept her face close to mine underwater to check to see if I was "happy". Jimmy, my Emergency Diver, was an amazing fellow who had the single responsibility of making sure I stayed alive and unhurt. He was like my mom. He was continually berating me for not breathing out when ascending. An error that can cause "lunge expansion injury.

For each time I went down to the car Jimmy had to literally jump on my back and ride me down because my wetsuit made me extremely buoyant. For the long shot I just sat in the car with my seatbelt on, but for the shots where I rose to the surface I had to be pushed back under each time. Jimmy pushed me underwater about 75 times.

There were actually five "set-ups". Set-ups are, generally, situations where the camera is going to be and what the actors are going to do. The first set-up was a long shot of me sitting in the car; which was quite wide. This required my longest holding-of-breath bit because we had to take time for the support divers to get out of the shot. There was an emergency bottle of air, called a "Pony Bottle", under my left leg, which I thankfully never had to use.

The longest I had to be underwater was for this scene. Once, I noticed I had been seat-belted into the Mustang for more than ninety minutes. Most of that time with no mask on, so I could hardly see. The blurry vision had the effect of increasing my anxiety about not being able to breathe, which I had to push out of my mind. I had to have the mask off or the lines it left on my face would show on camera in the close-ups.

The second shot was a close-up of me in the car and that was pretty much the same as the first, but my divers could stay closer.

The third shot was of me being pulled out of the car and this is where I had my first problems. My legs got caught under the steering wheel and the two "angels" , who were two more stunt divers come to carry me off to heaven, sometimes pulled on me a little too hard. They wanted me (and them) to get to the surface in a reasonable amount of time, but I wanted to do that without bending my knee in the wrong direction. We got it sorted out after a couple of attempts and we shot it several times from different angles.

After we got that shot, it was time for lunch. I went with my brother Clif, who had come with me as my assistant and driver, to the commissary for our meal. We sat outside in the nice, warm sun watching the famous people walk around. Back home, we were told, it was snowing.

After lunch I hung in the tank and watched while Dana did her stuff. She was much more at home under the water than I. She was an interesting actress for a number of reasons: for her talent and her skill, sure, but also for her endurance and her willingness to do things many pampered Hollywood stars would never dream of doing. Such as a scene underwater, for example.

The fourth shot I did was a more dangerous one. Myself and the two angels were to rise all the way to the surface from the very bottom of the tank. It had to be done in a way that worked for the Camera Operator and got the Director, Stephen Gyllenhaal, the shot he wanted. We messed around with weights in my shoes and the two angels practiced getting me to the surface at the speed that made the Director of Photography happy.

This is scarier than it sounds. We had nine people: the Stunt Coordinator angel, the two assisting angels, myself, Jimmy, my personal air diver, another support diver wrangling all the tanks and hoses we needed, the camera operator and a gaffer. We were all vying for the same space underwater. It was confusing and many details had to be worked out. I had to stay underwater while everything was being arranged.

When Stephen called "action" through the underwater speaker, we all had to be ready to go. This meant having our masks off and air regulators well out of the way. And we had to wait a few seconds for the bubbles to get out of the shot too. The worst part is, without a mask, you can only see vague shapes. This makes it hard to do what the director is asking and can cause a lot of anxiety about where your next breath might be coming from.

In one of the early attempts at this shot, before we got organized, Stephen said "action" and I pulled my regulator, ready to go. Problem was, the others were not ready and were, in fact, not even looking. One of the angels turned to notice I had no regulator in my mouth and did the right thing: he jammed his into my mouth.

We heard Stephen yell "cut" and in the blurry world beside me I could see the angel who gave me his regulator, now had no air. He looked around a couple of times then pulled the regulator out of the mouth of the other angel beside him. I watched the two of them share the one air source in PADI rules style. Very reassuring to see. In seconds, of course, the emergency divers had sprung into action and there were regulators floating in front of all our faces.

We eventually got a procedure established that worked for safety and got Stephen the shot he was looking for. For each shot I would look at the support divers and angels, who would each give me a thumbs up, then I would look at the Stunt Coordinator, and he would also give me a thumbs up. I would then turn in the direction of the camera and give an "okay" sign. Stephen would give instructions to roll the camera and ask me to start my count. I would count "one, two....three", taking a deep breath on each number. On three, we would pull our regulators and the support divers would swim quickly out of the shot.

When we finally felt comfortable about the process of getting us to the surface for the perfect shot, we tried it a couple of times and found the bubbles, that we were expelling on the assent, obscured my face. Stephen asked us to do it "without the bubbles". After being told the danger of ascending with a lungfull of air, Stephen asked, "Can you finish with the bubbles before you go up?". Of course, those bubbles represented the air in my lungs that I needed to breathe but, trusting the Stunt Coordinator, who had not injured me so far, I thought we could give it a try.

Once again I was reminded: If it sounds dangerous, it probably is dangerous.

After I finished my count and the four of us breathed out most of our air, I counted "beats" in my head. When I had counted to where I should do my rehearsed "turning my head up to look beatifically toward God in the light on the surface of the water" bit, I looked up to see a surface that was incredibly far away. I moved my foot and through the wetsuit boot I could feel I was still on the bottom of the tank. Because I had no air in my lungs I was far less buoyant and I had not risen at all. It was a twenty foot swim to the surface...and I had empty lungs.

I gave the PADI "short of air" signal by banging my fist against my chest and pushed the angels away from me. I did this hard so they would know it was an emergency and because I was quite sure they could not see me give the signal. I also think I panicked a little.

I knew my emergency diver could see me because he was swimming toward me like a rocket with my bright yellow regulator held out in front of him. Unfortunately, I could see he wasn't going to make it to me in time, or, at least, I wasn't going to count on it. I kicked like...well...like my life depended on it. As I neared the surface I felt as though I was trying to stretch my lips out of the water.

It seemed to take forever, even though I know it was only a few seconds. Just before I broke the surface I involuntarily took a premature breath and sucked a batch of dirty tank water into my lungs. I flipped on my back, where my wetsuit held me afloat, and spewed the contents of my lungs into the air. My brother looked as though he was about to jump in, but I waved him off.

On the side of the tank I could see the producer, Alan Barnette, as he rushed to the edge of the tank to see if I was okay. I asked for a couple of minutes to get my head together and apologized for ruining the shot. Alan said, "Don't apologize for having to breathe." I just coughed.

I noticed the angels had suffered much the same fate as I. Stephen decided we could "live with the bubbles". I laughed and let Jimmy ride me back down. At the time, I just tried not to think about it.

The third dangerous situation made me angry. It was the last shot and I wasn't even supposed to be in it. It was a shot showing the angels lifting me up and it was supposed to favor one or the other angel. I suggested we get the Stunt Coordinator to put on my jacket and he could do it in my place. They would just have to be careful about the frame. No dice. Stephen wanted me there "just in case". So, down I went again.

This was very late in the day; we would wrap less than an hour from then. Everyone was tired and a little punchy-including me. Dana had left hours ago.

The Director of Photography was operating the camera. He got so caught up in getting the shot that he forgot I wasn't amphibious. When I started to rise, and he clearly didn't have himself in the right spot, he decided to "cut" and take another shot at it. Problem was, I had already given my air away and had pretty much committed to swimming to life on the surface. The DOP wasn't thinking as I was and, when he decided to abort the shot, he pushed me back down to the bottom of the tank. He let go after I struggled a bit, but by then I was in serious need of a breath. I think I screamed out some air.

Before I could summon my strength to lunge at the DOP and seize his air, Jimmy was there stuffing my own regulator into my mouth. I never knew air could taste so good.

We did it once more and that was it. Everyone thanked everyone else and my brother and I headed up to the Universal Hilton. Exhausted, I checked in and had to explain my face to the woman at the counter. I hadn't noticed the sun, but it had burned my face bright red.