The Brad Pitt problem

I was woken early one morning by a loud knocking on my back door.

I quickly dressed and rushed downstairs where I found Alun, pointing excitedly at his shadow.

“Look,” he said.

How strange, surely he’s noticed his shadow before, I thought, but then suddenly realised why he was excited.

“That’s not your shadow,” I said.

“No Jed, I’ve got a special guest shadow today. It’s Brad Pitt’s.”

“I’m a big fan,” I told the shadow. “I loved you in 12 Monkeys.” To Alun I said, “What’s happened to your shadow?”

“Oh, I’ve given it the day off.”

“Why? How come you’ve got Brad Pitt’s shadow for the day?”

“Because it’s a special story today.”

“It is?”

“Yes, Terry Gilliam is guest-directing.”

“That’s amazing,” I said. I have to confess that these stories do frequently lack focus and would clearly benefit from a world-class director. “But surely he’s too busy to waste time directing us, hasn’t he got movies to make? Operas to oversee?”

“He can’t get any work Jed, the actors and crew all hate him. He insists on reshooting the same scene twenty or thirty times just because the shadow’s in the wrong place, or some similar irrelevant reason. Sometimes he’ll make the cast and crew wait for ten, twelve hours, until the sun’s moved round the sky, just so the shadow falls at the right angle.”

“I thought they could change these things digitally these days.”

“They can, Jed, but Gilliam’s loves nothing more than making his movie stars stand in a muddy ditch for hours on end waiting for the world to rotate.”

“I can understand why Hollywood stars would get irritated,” I said. “They usually expect the world to revolve around them.”

“Of course, Brad Pitt’s shadow loves working for him. He’s the only director to take shadows seriously. That’s why he agreed to be in today’s story, the chance to work with Gilliam again.

“Cut!” Our conversation was interrupted by the director.

“What is it?” I asked. “Did one of us get our lines wrong?”

“No, no, you were both fine. It’s the hamster.”

“The hamster?”

“The hamster in the cage at the back of the scene. It should have been running round in its wheel while you were talking. You’ll have to do the scene again.”

Alun shrugged. “You see what I mean,” he said. “A perfectionist.”

“I don’t even own a hamster,” I said, but Gilliam wasn’t listening, he chased me up the stairs so that we could start the day again.

In all we had to relive the scene twenty times before the hamster finally began to run round in its wheel.

The day progressed in similar fashion. Brad Pitt’s shadow was worked especially hard, with his scenes being repeated over and over again. Apparently the shadow ‘didn’t fit’, Alun’s body shape, and we had to take a three-week break in the story during which time the shadow was forced to binge on food and put on the two stone in weight necessary to shadow Alun.

Normally these stories only take a day, indeed it’s not unknown for me to knock one out over lunch, but this had taken a month and was still barely half-way through.

I was most surprised to be woken early the next morning by a hammering on my back door. I rushed downstairs to find Alun, standing there with his normal shadow.

“It’s Brad Pitt’s shadow, Jed,” he said. “He’s left the story.”

“He’s left the story? But he IS the story. He’s even mentioned in the title.”

“It doesn’t matter Jed, he’s fed up with the way Gilliam has been treating him and has quit.”

“Does that mean Gilliam will make us re-do the entire story with your shadow?”

“No, Jed, Gilliam’s left as well. He only took the job because we had Brad Pitt’s shadow on board. He’s says he can’t be bothered to director a story when it’s just you and me in it.”

“So what happens now?”

“Nothing Jed. There isn’t a story any more. We can get on with our day.” So saying, Alun, and his shadow, turned and walked down towards the bay, where the morning boat would shortly arrive.