Open LibraryDanny Cannon and Billy Petersen, CSI - October 2000
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Images not mine; detail to follow.
You've probably heard of a US television show called "CSI: Crime Scene Investigation". On the other hand, you mighta been with Tom Hanks in the South Pacific since 2000, so...
The primary attached group CSI photo was shot on or close to 10 October 2000, just after the premiere broadcast of CSI's pilot, episode 1. There was no CSI series at the time.
As you can see, the above production pic is signed by Billy Petersen, star of CSI, and dedicated to CSI director/producer Danny Cannon (standing far left). The image was snapped by an unknown CSI set photographer during Las Vegas Strip location work at the New York-New York Hotel & Casino.
The catch? As mentioned, the CSI series had yet to air. Only the pilot, days before.
The story sequence was the much lauded Billy Petersen emotional roller coaster bit, which later landed in CSI's episode 5 "Friends and Lovers". That particular ep was directed by Lou Antonio, known widely as Frank Gorshin's nemesis, the opposite black & white wild man from "the southernmost part of the galaxy" in Star Trek's "Let That Be Your Last Battlefield".
Billy Petersen once said of the roller piece that his CSI character (Grissom) was into coasters from an "(interest) in being able to release things by going back to a child-like state and letting the roller coaster just clear his brain."
Far out.
To be perfectly honest, not sure how or why the roller coaster moment wound-up in Lou Antonio's ep 5...but the much talked about/iconic rail sequence was actually directed in early October 2000 by Danny Cannon.
More about the night of the Petersen/Cannon scene will appear somewhere below. For the time being, allow me to mention another human in the main coaster photo...
And here we go:
My involvement with CSI was somewhere between summer 2000's first days of shooting, right after the pilot was made, til about episode 16 in 2001. I was on the CSI set in numerous Vegas locations, and often visited the CSI Valencia stages outside LA near Magic Mountain, for large chunks of time.
My behind-the-scenes memory of CSI is sometimes bittersweet, but mostly it's pretty killer. As with virtually anything related to entertainment, there were terrible people mixed with some truly positive and spectacular types. Good and bad, as they say.
Be warned, however: not going directly negative, by name. Or specifically negative at all. Why bother?
Simply stated, it's not my desire to publicly air laundry of certain Homo sapiens, either in the CSI tale or from the substantial time spent elsewhere in Hollywood. Avoiding bad stories is the reason I declined numerous requests to create a memoir of my 37 years in and around show-biz. Trust me, like many in town I could name some Hollywood/music-biz peeps and their pathetic, diseased folly that would show you parasites who somehow attained great fame and fortune, anyway.
And let's be serious: you can find a shitty political-type situation anywhere, in whatever business. Ain't just Hollywood, baby. It's humanity itself.
Anyway, let's get on with it:
In the year 2000, a call was received from an old friend who asked me to visit the CSI "Rye Canyon" Valencia stages. I had no idea what CSI was, nor did the world at large. After all, it hadn't had a broadcast yet.
Having been in the business for some time, the CSI set and show seemed kinda like normal decent TV. And I really liked the people.
As you may know, the original cast was led by Billy Petersen (aka William), Marg Helgenberger, Gary Dourdan, George Eads, and Jorja Fox. Interplanetary producer Jerry Bruckheimer was the major catalyst for the series, from his support of the CSI concept created by Las Vegas guy Anthony Zuiker (most called him Tony).
My first day on CSI was excellent. I was grandly introduced to the cast and already knew a large number of active crew. So in a way it felt like a big reunion, with a lot of cool new people in tow.
Billy was very cordial. You could tell he was dead-on, in technique and profession.
I really liked Jorja, right away. And she dug my shoes! Haha!
I was treated very well by everyone on CSI that afternoon, and had an awesome engagement. Little did I know I'd wind-up spending enormous amounts of future time and experience with almost all of them, in some way or another. Partly as random observer of their words and actions, and a little as friend.
The one who stood out was director Danny Cannon, a British dude. No idea what you know about him, but at the time he'd done a few movies like JUDGE DREDD. Danny also did the Harvey Keitel YOUNG AMERICANS, for which he hired Björk to do some lovely musical numbers.
Right then, Danny seemed a little distant. Like he woulda been happier someplace else. He wasn't too interested in talking, but that seemed to be his way with most. Word had it he was previously offered Bruckheimer's CON AIR as director, and refused because he felt he couldn't really bring anything to it.
So Danny's pal Simon West did it instead.
As I'm writing this stuff, I have to skip one hell of a lot of detail. I just can't report some of the things seen and heard and experienced on CSI. It's not...proper. But there remain some random things I'll expunge from my own perspective, without causing pain.
Or revenge.
How I got to know Danny will not be one of them. To put it briefly, there was an incident on set a few days afterward, one that nearly brought the house down. I still cringe remembering.
Nothing to do with me, by the way. Wait, did I mention I started showing-up on the CSI stage, fairly regular?
In the time after the "big incident" settled, Danny and I talked more and more between takes and such. We discovered lots of common ground, but were opposite in part and raised in different nations. I found him highly intelligent and definitely quite talented, mostly as producer.
And producer is what he quickly became on CSI, adding cash to his directorial gig and instrumentally pumping the show's physical success.
He was funny as fuck, too. Great sense of humor.
Then around late August 2000, a big piece of news: it was arranged for me to meet and talk with Tony Zuiker, the guy from Vegas who created the entire CSI pageant off a notepad. Because of a sorta parallel background with Tony, being born and raised in Vegas and attending linked public high schools, etc., I was especially interested in seeing if he and I could work together on something.
Til then I'd never seen Tony on the CSI set. He spent, far as I could tell, a majority of time in the CSI Valencia production HQ.
As it went, the day came for our meet-n-greet. Off I went to see him. I found Tony humorous and cool, if entirely overworked. A guy who reminded me of previous Vegas compadres.
We spoke at length about our Vegas similarities, like the fact that I came from Rancho high, the poor "Northtown" school, and he was a high-end Chaparral campus dude on the other side of town. Haha!
Today, Zuiker has a Chaparral theatre named after him.
In the Tony conversation I discovered we had some old wiring from Rancho, for example a guy who ran against me as VP for the 1983 student council. What a weird connection (I lost). But the biggest link was a major award-winning high school theatrical instructor named Ronald Johns (RIP) who I still personally thank for his excellence in creating a theatre/actor program that relied upon high professional standards, great historic wisdom, and a deep approach to story and character that won many a scholastic competition for Johns and his people.
Not to mention all the top-caliber stage plays Ron Johns did for Vegas' Clark County school system.
By the feel, Tony Zuiker was pretty jazzed that he and I got connected, so he offered to ”sneak” me in front his manager at the time, Margaret Riley, RIP. Tony wanted a writing sample, so I told him about the Ridley Scott thing from long ago, but also pointed out a new project based entirely upon Vegas, specifically North Las Vegas, which was pretty Goddamned wild. He loved the idea of outré Northtown being alive in a script...especially a dark & crazy one. So away we went with my mailing of a hard copy to Margaret the next day.
But before that Tony said, perhaps not exactly in these words (hey, it's been 24 years; not easy on the neurons): "Lance, if this doesn't work with Margaret I'll move you around and in and out and we'll get you going. I want to see you get where I am. You deserve it."
Hm. "Deserve" is a tall word, right? But hey, let's do it!
The meeting with Zuiker concluded and I kinda felt I'd met an old friend. Probably from Vegas genetics.
Let's see...where to go from here? Maybe Vegas itself, where a lot of CSI came to life.
As the eternal clock kept going, Danny Cannon and I became pretty solid friends. In those days I drove a brand new BMW two-door hot rod called M3, earned entirely from my heavy labor with Apple Computer at the time. I would occasionally collect Danny after CSI wrapped, generally late at night, and we'd either dine somewhere fun or hit a hotel bar where we'd talk cinema over cigars and Scotch til the early hours.
One time in Vegas, on CSI's "Table Stakes" ep 15, Danny called from set and asked if I could grab him immediately after wrap. No problem. So I showed at location, which I can't remember as a residence or business place. Anyway, it was a pool. Damned cold around then and in the water was Gary Dourdan, shirtless. For the shot, Marg Helgenberger walked across the deck with a line, "Can I get you a towel, sir?"
Or similar.
When wrap was called, Danny and I made an instant beeline to the car. Clearly he wanted to get the hell outta there to finish a long day. We wound-up at another bar, after a quick dinner. Over some awesome bourbon and a short, light-colored cigar brand I can't remember, we talked about about a period piece he had in mind to write and direct. Strangely, it semi-matched a maritime film story I’d tossed around on the laptop a couple years previous.
Interesting orbit. And on went a cool drinking and smoking chat til 4:45 AM-ish.
Moving on, with dates and times admittedly running back and forth a bit:
As the younger cast knew me fairly well by then, several times Jorja, George, and Gary would join Danny and I at night, often with additional fancy people I didn't know. As I was born and raised in Vegas and knew some sparkly manager peeps, here and there I quietly got us cool VIP seats in various cool places.
Paired with that, one of my favorite Vegas/CSI memories was hauling-ass down the The Strip to a VIP thing, Danny and two amazing 30-ish CSI women packed inside. To everyone's delight as we flew past Caesars, Depeche Mode suddenly blasted "People Are People" off the Blaupunkt...
In the rear passenger-side seat was Lisa Lackey, aka Elizabeth Lackey, a confident Australian actor/model and CSI guest star that I dug right away from her intelligence and humor. Look for a snippet about Lisa, later on.
The woman next to Lisa was another CSI guest star, and I really hate to admit it but I can't remember her name. My bad, as they say. She was quite interesting, though.
You have to realize I haven't thought of this stuff in decades, so CSI recall is sorta piecemeal.
And there's much more to tell about CSI. Like the spectacular little visit the CSI actors and cadre made to Red Square at Mandalay Bay. Most of the cast were there, and though the place closed in 2022, back in 2000 and 2001 it was a marvelous thematic eatery.
Red Square is where I learned a great deal about George Eads and his crazy charisma with a public who really didn't know who he was at the time. Even today it's clear George was born with a hyper-quantum attraction field that works way beyonde Homo sapiens understanding. It was far out to observe.
And, onward:
Later in Vegas I was invited to Billy Petersen's Super Bowl Party on 28 January 2001. The whole CSI armada was there, and it was pretty lively. Billy was an awesome host, a truly cool guy. I mention the gathering because it was the only time I really connected with Billy. Amazing cat, indeed.
A few weeks later:
In March 2001, via excellent old pal Howard Kazanjian, I wound up with a pair of "near-the-stage" 73rd Oscar tickets. A wild stroke. It was the year of Ridley Scott's original GLADIATOR, by the way. It was also the last time for the Academy Awards to run at Dorothy Chandler Pavilion, a fabulous place of history on Grand Avenue.
The tricky part? Howard got the tickets literally days before the 25 March ceremony. Almost no time to plan and get a tux, and I was stuck in Vegas right then.
Now...
As mentioned before, I really liked Jorja Fox. She always kinda reminded me of one of The Go-Go's. Jorja and I talked on the CSI set and stage quite a lot over the weeks and months. She was a peach.
So I of course asked her to hit the Academy Awards, giving almost zero notice. Damn.
Jorja was frustrated to answer that she was tied-up in a CBS/CSI promotional gig, on Oscar afternoon til about 5 PM. But she asked if I'd be interested in taking a female friend of hers, as a sorta blind date.
It was difficult, but I had to pass. And I told Jorja why: I felt it might make an uncomfortable moment for her friend, considering she had no idea who I was and had never met me.
But I of course thanked her for the sugary thought.
With Academy Award deadline approaching, I decided to ask CSI guest star Lisa Lackey along, who I'd spent time with in Vegas and liked quite a bit (see above). I found quickly that Lisa was away visiting her home continent Down Under. I left messages for Lisa in Australia and Los Angeles, but didn't hear back.
So I went ahead and made an Oscar arrangement with a longtime male friend. No space to do anything else. Besides, Danny Cannon didn't want to go, because back then he really didn't dig award shows.
Reckon that's changed by now. Maybe.
In the interim, Danny and I sat in his office a couple days before the night...when the subject of Björk the singer came up. Björk was nominated for an Oscar that year and would of course be there. Danny told me about his time with Björk on his YOUNG AMERICANS movie, and how it was truly interesting to work with her in a studio, recording the film's title song. Danny said if I happened to see Björk at Dorothy Chandler to say "hi" from him and wish her the best on his behalf.
No problem, baby.
Strangely enough, Lisa Lackey called Sunday afternoon a couple hours before the Oscars. She'd literally just gotten off a 23-hour delayed flight from Australia, and only now picked-up my message in LA. She wasn't happy to hear that I'd already gotten a companion, but was quite understanding that I had to book the slot...on top of her being completely jet-lagged from big travel, anyway.
Damn. Sweet of her to call, for sure.
Now...
I could offer a wild and faceted tale about the Academy Awards trip that year...but I'll jot the smaller details and hope you're even interested.
Russell Crowe, winning Best Actor for GLADIATOR: Before the second syllable escaped Oscar presenter Hilary Swank (who I later bumped into, literally) it was my voice first yelling "Yeeeeeaaah!" Still on YouTube, in fact. Hah!
Even later was a random encounter backstage with Marcia Gay Harden, who beamed my way over the head and shoulders of her POLLOCK win. We were just kind of staring at each other, smiling. For 20 full seconds, even.
She's so great.
Next was a thing with Winona Ryder, which was funny as hell. She was kind of...charmingly petite, in the coolest way.
And then of course a collision with God, er, Sir Ridley Scott, resulting in a fabulous yet quick conversation wherein I thanked him for reading my GIL FARRINGTON story, and also the big "Conceptual Image" adventure project of mine he explored at Percy Main.
So I said to Ridley, in conclusion, "Sir, you are truly The Admiral of the Fucking Fleet." Which I stole from Russ Crowe, of course. Save for the "fuck" bit.
Ridley laughed his ass off, warmly shook my hand with a small pat from his left one. Pretty sure he had no idea what the projects were that I thanked him for, but hey: what a chap.
Skipping enormous detail:
Just before leaving Dorothy Chandler, guess who I see? The Swan herself, Björk. As you may remember, that night she wore quite a wild outfit, like a swan. So I rushed over, gently grabbed the swan (by the left shoulder) and said, "Hello, B: Danny Cannon sends his love and best wishes." She was curiously blank-faced for a second, then put on a big smile.
And then she was whisked-off by some guard, or something. That outfit, though... And funny that she's three months younger than I am, to the day.
If interested, you can see a Nasty Boys behind the scenes bit right here.
I shot it completely cut in the camera, over several days. Ben is not
only throughout but he captured the image where I'm kneeling over a
fried chicken sign.
Hell of a dude.
Now back to the Billy Petersen roller coaster story, bedrock from the image above:
If you look at the photo, I knew everyone pictured. Some were old multi-project friends. Some recent. Many stories, indeed.
As before, that's Danny Cannon on the left and my right hand beside him on the coaster's "camera brick" pipe. Billy's strapped and ready to make his oft-discussed "brain-clearing" trip to the sky.
On that night, which at the time was running late, Danny was totally fatigued and frustrated with the eons it was taking to assemble the coaster's camera mounts. He'd given Billy a lot of cool direction but mostly everyone was sitting and waiting for safe assembly of the camera, after it failed the first run.
The clock went on. The hotel had little customer business that hour and the coaster itself was security closed most of the day. I stayed on set, watching the goings-on with the crew. Wasn't my job of course, but it seemed like a good move, just to scan for possible flaw or error.
I noticed after maybe 20 minutes that Danny had disappeared. Had no idea where he was, or why. Again, not my business at the moment, so I let it go.
But I didn't let it go when people started looking for Danny at minute 35. Things went from the crew basically asking if anyone had seen him to an almost frantic use of walkie-talkies and cell phones.
I left the set STAT, because I kind of had an idea and was also quite concerned. I searched well apart from the coaster, checking New York-New York secluded wings and closed shops.
And then I caught a guy standing way back in a semi-dark hotel arcade, which was otherwise totally empty. I ran up and saw it was Danny, welded to a game. Can't remember the cabinet, but Danny was wildly playing the machine, super-lost in concentration. I started laughing and said, "Dude! The whole company's lookin' for ya!"
He turned right at me, like he'd spilt a coffee. On that we both ran back to the coaster. The crew was happy, and hoped he was fine. Danny told them he'd just been working on a schedule for tomorrow...and then looked at me with a slight laugh in his eyes.
When CSI finished its seasons in February 2015, Danny Cannon had become a major and fantastically wealthy producer/director in US television. He later Executive Produced the well-received series Gotham, among others.
And I lost Danny's friendship, totally. By entirely my own fault.
Danny tried often to be a real pal, including me in a superb New Year gala party, taking me to a private Shane Black
gathering, inviting me as one of eight people to his Wonderland home
for Thanksgiving (not there anymore), watching films together at Laemmle Sunset 5...
In the years with Cannon, I wasn't built in such a way to deal with my personal artistic/Hollywood stuff constantly falling off the shelf and never moving forward...while repeatedly intersecting the sewer-end of human evolution from Wilshire to Franklin. It knocked pieces off my personality and exposed a lotta mental bile.
Yes, everyone has to deal with hardship and bad people when aiming for a career in the Thirty Mile Zone...but even now, in late 2024, and with a huge amount of wisdom from vast sources of years, some of the things that happened (nothing to do with Danny) seem exceptionally odd. Way beyond typical rejection stuff and scummy people that virtually everyone in entertainment has to deal with.
Continuing with the Danny Cannon story:
For years I foolishly tried to get things back in order with Danny. I sent way, way too many lengthy fuckin' e-mails, letters, and apologetic bullshit. Til maybe 2023, even.
Again, whatever. And the truth is, I'm only totally aware today because 25 November 2023 radically changed my entire perspective and ability to observe. Nothing since has been as it was. You might say it was a little like finding a piece of Dave Hargrave's "True Sight" glass.
As a closer to all the above, figured I should mention a certain oddball fact: I've never seen a single ep of CSI.
Not one.
Oh, and the Billy Petersen/Danny Cannon roller coaster production photo? Printed at the CSI Vegas office HQ either the night it was shot or the next morning. It was then given to Billy, who signed and passed it to Danny.
On one of our M3 adventures the same afternoon, Danny left the photo in the rear leather pouch of the car's front passenger seat. I didn't find it til a year later.
Cheers.
You've probably heard of a US television show called "CSI: Crime Scene Investigation". On the other hand, you mighta been with Tom Hanks in the South Pacific since 2000, so...
The primary attached group CSI photo was shot on or close to 10 October 2000, just after the premiere broadcast of CSI's pilot, episode 1. There was no CSI series at the time.
As you can see, the above production pic is signed by Billy Petersen, star of CSI, and dedicated to CSI director/producer Danny Cannon (standing far left). The image was snapped by an unknown CSI set photographer during Las Vegas Strip location work at the New York-New York Hotel & Casino.
The catch? As mentioned, the CSI series had yet to air. Only the pilot, days before.
The story sequence was the much lauded Billy Petersen emotional roller coaster bit, which later landed in CSI's episode 5 "Friends and Lovers". That particular ep was directed by Lou Antonio, known widely as Frank Gorshin's nemesis, the opposite black & white wild man from "the southernmost part of the galaxy" in Star Trek's "Let That Be Your Last Battlefield".
Billy Petersen once said of the roller piece that his CSI character (Grissom) was into coasters from an "(interest) in being able to release things by going back to a child-like state and letting the roller coaster just clear his brain."
Far out.
To be perfectly honest, not sure how or why the roller coaster moment wound-up in Lou Antonio's ep 5...but the much talked about/iconic rail sequence was actually directed in early October 2000 by Danny Cannon.
More about the night of the Petersen/Cannon scene will appear somewhere below. For the time being, allow me to mention another human in the main coaster photo...
Believe it or not, that's my personal right hand
on the extreme left side, grasping the mount and standing beside Danny.
(The other pic was snapped later via New York-New York's roller coaster cam system...while I took a ride with Judy Crown, early CSI's very nice key hair stylist, and other crew. That photo was stashed in a Vegas storage unit for many moons...hence the scratchy spots.)
And here we go:
My involvement with CSI was somewhere between summer 2000's first days of shooting, right after the pilot was made, til about episode 16 in 2001. I was on the CSI set in numerous Vegas locations, and often visited the CSI Valencia stages outside LA near Magic Mountain, for large chunks of time.
My behind-the-scenes memory of CSI is sometimes bittersweet, but mostly it's pretty killer. As with virtually anything related to entertainment, there were terrible people mixed with some truly positive and spectacular types. Good and bad, as they say.
Be warned, however: not going directly negative, by name. Or specifically negative at all. Why bother?
Simply stated, it's not my desire to publicly air laundry of certain Homo sapiens, either in the CSI tale or from the substantial time spent elsewhere in Hollywood. Avoiding bad stories is the reason I declined numerous requests to create a memoir of my 37 years in and around show-biz. Trust me, like many in town I could name some Hollywood/music-biz peeps and their pathetic, diseased folly that would show you parasites who somehow attained great fame and fortune, anyway.
And let's be serious: you can find a shitty political-type situation anywhere, in whatever business. Ain't just Hollywood, baby. It's humanity itself.
But to be absolutely fair, on this earthly globe
a tiny percentage of living genetic experiments (aka humans) are truly
worthy and noble, logged into history (or maybe forgotten) since the
Sumer cuneiforms. People of merit.
I was lucky to meet a few of those
stalwarts via age and travel...and of course, via CSI.
Anyway, let's get on with it:
In the year 2000, a call was received from an old friend who asked me to visit the CSI "Rye Canyon" Valencia stages. I had no idea what CSI was, nor did the world at large. After all, it hadn't had a broadcast yet.
Having been in the business for some time, the CSI set and show seemed kinda like normal decent TV. And I really liked the people.
As you may know, the original cast was led by Billy Petersen (aka William), Marg Helgenberger, Gary Dourdan, George Eads, and Jorja Fox. Interplanetary producer Jerry Bruckheimer was the major catalyst for the series, from his support of the CSI concept created by Las Vegas guy Anthony Zuiker (most called him Tony).
My first day on CSI was excellent. I was grandly introduced to the cast and already knew a large number of active crew. So in a way it felt like a big reunion, with a lot of cool new people in tow.
Billy was very cordial. You could tell he was dead-on, in technique and profession.
I really liked Jorja, right away. And she dug my shoes! Haha!
I was treated very well by everyone on CSI that afternoon, and had an awesome engagement. Little did I know I'd wind-up spending enormous amounts of future time and experience with almost all of them, in some way or another. Partly as random observer of their words and actions, and a little as friend.
The one who stood out was director Danny Cannon, a British dude. No idea what you know about him, but at the time he'd done a few movies like JUDGE DREDD. Danny also did the Harvey Keitel YOUNG AMERICANS, for which he hired Björk to do some lovely musical numbers.
Right then, Danny seemed a little distant. Like he woulda been happier someplace else. He wasn't too interested in talking, but that seemed to be his way with most. Word had it he was previously offered Bruckheimer's CON AIR as director, and refused because he felt he couldn't really bring anything to it.
So Danny's pal Simon West did it instead.
As I'm writing this stuff, I have to skip one hell of a lot of detail. I just can't report some of the things seen and heard and experienced on CSI. It's not...proper. But there remain some random things I'll expunge from my own perspective, without causing pain.
Or revenge.
How I got to know Danny will not be one of them. To put it briefly, there was an incident on set a few days afterward, one that nearly brought the house down. I still cringe remembering.
Nothing to do with me, by the way. Wait, did I mention I started showing-up on the CSI stage, fairly regular?
In the time after the "big incident" settled, Danny and I talked more and more between takes and such. We discovered lots of common ground, but were opposite in part and raised in different nations. I found him highly intelligent and definitely quite talented, mostly as producer.
And producer is what he quickly became on CSI, adding cash to his directorial gig and instrumentally pumping the show's physical success.
He was funny as fuck, too. Great sense of humor.
Then around late August 2000, a big piece of news: it was arranged for me to meet and talk with Tony Zuiker, the guy from Vegas who created the entire CSI pageant off a notepad. Because of a sorta parallel background with Tony, being born and raised in Vegas and attending linked public high schools, etc., I was especially interested in seeing if he and I could work together on something.
Til then I'd never seen Tony on the CSI set. He spent, far as I could tell, a majority of time in the CSI Valencia production HQ.
As it went, the day came for our meet-n-greet. Off I went to see him. I found Tony humorous and cool, if entirely overworked. A guy who reminded me of previous Vegas compadres.
We spoke at length about our Vegas similarities, like the fact that I came from Rancho high, the poor "Northtown" school, and he was a high-end Chaparral campus dude on the other side of town. Haha!
Today, Zuiker has a Chaparral theatre named after him.
In the Tony conversation I discovered we had some old wiring from Rancho, for example a guy who ran against me as VP for the 1983 student council. What a weird connection (I lost). But the biggest link was a major award-winning high school theatrical instructor named Ronald Johns (RIP) who I still personally thank for his excellence in creating a theatre/actor program that relied upon high professional standards, great historic wisdom, and a deep approach to story and character that won many a scholastic competition for Johns and his people.
Not to mention all the top-caliber stage plays Ron Johns did for Vegas' Clark County school system.
By the feel, Tony Zuiker was pretty jazzed that he and I got connected, so he offered to ”sneak” me in front his manager at the time, Margaret Riley, RIP. Tony wanted a writing sample, so I told him about the Ridley Scott thing from long ago, but also pointed out a new project based entirely upon Vegas, specifically North Las Vegas, which was pretty Goddamned wild. He loved the idea of outré Northtown being alive in a script...especially a dark & crazy one. So away we went with my mailing of a hard copy to Margaret the next day.
But before that Tony said, perhaps not exactly in these words (hey, it's been 24 years; not easy on the neurons): "Lance, if this doesn't work with Margaret I'll move you around and in and out and we'll get you going. I want to see you get where I am. You deserve it."
Hm. "Deserve" is a tall word, right? But hey, let's do it!
The meeting with Zuiker concluded and I kinda felt I'd met an old friend. Probably from Vegas genetics.
Let's see...where to go from here? Maybe Vegas itself, where a lot of CSI came to life.
As the eternal clock kept going, Danny Cannon and I became pretty solid friends. In those days I drove a brand new BMW two-door hot rod called M3, earned entirely from my heavy labor with Apple Computer at the time. I would occasionally collect Danny after CSI wrapped, generally late at night, and we'd either dine somewhere fun or hit a hotel bar where we'd talk cinema over cigars and Scotch til the early hours.
One time in Vegas, on CSI's "Table Stakes" ep 15, Danny called from set and asked if I could grab him immediately after wrap. No problem. So I showed at location, which I can't remember as a residence or business place. Anyway, it was a pool. Damned cold around then and in the water was Gary Dourdan, shirtless. For the shot, Marg Helgenberger walked across the deck with a line, "Can I get you a towel, sir?"
Or similar.
When wrap was called, Danny and I made an instant beeline to the car. Clearly he wanted to get the hell outta there to finish a long day. We wound-up at another bar, after a quick dinner. Over some awesome bourbon and a short, light-colored cigar brand I can't remember, we talked about about a period piece he had in mind to write and direct. Strangely, it semi-matched a maritime film story I’d tossed around on the laptop a couple years previous.
Interesting orbit. And on went a cool drinking and smoking chat til 4:45 AM-ish.
Moving on, with dates and times admittedly running back and forth a bit:
As the younger cast knew me fairly well by then, several times Jorja, George, and Gary would join Danny and I at night, often with additional fancy people I didn't know. As I was born and raised in Vegas and knew some sparkly manager peeps, here and there I quietly got us cool VIP seats in various cool places.
Paired with that, one of my favorite Vegas/CSI memories was hauling-ass down the The Strip to a VIP thing, Danny and two amazing 30-ish CSI women packed inside. To everyone's delight as we flew past Caesars, Depeche Mode suddenly blasted "People Are People" off the Blaupunkt...
In the rear passenger-side seat was Lisa Lackey, aka Elizabeth Lackey, a confident Australian actor/model and CSI guest star that I dug right away from her intelligence and humor. Look for a snippet about Lisa, later on.
The woman next to Lisa was another CSI guest star, and I really hate to admit it but I can't remember her name. My bad, as they say. She was quite interesting, though.
You have to realize I haven't thought of this stuff in decades, so CSI recall is sorta piecemeal.
And there's much more to tell about CSI. Like the spectacular little visit the CSI actors and cadre made to Red Square at Mandalay Bay. Most of the cast were there, and though the place closed in 2022, back in 2000 and 2001 it was a marvelous thematic eatery.
Red Square is where I learned a great deal about George Eads and his crazy charisma with a public who really didn't know who he was at the time. Even today it's clear George was born with a hyper-quantum attraction field that works way beyonde Homo sapiens understanding. It was far out to observe.
And, onward:
Later in Vegas I was invited to Billy Petersen's Super Bowl Party on 28 January 2001. The whole CSI armada was there, and it was pretty lively. Billy was an awesome host, a truly cool guy. I mention the gathering because it was the only time I really connected with Billy. Amazing cat, indeed.
A few weeks later:
In March 2001, via excellent old pal Howard Kazanjian, I wound up with a pair of "near-the-stage" 73rd Oscar tickets. A wild stroke. It was the year of Ridley Scott's original GLADIATOR, by the way. It was also the last time for the Academy Awards to run at Dorothy Chandler Pavilion, a fabulous place of history on Grand Avenue.
The tricky part? Howard got the tickets literally days before the 25 March ceremony. Almost no time to plan and get a tux, and I was stuck in Vegas right then.
Now...
As mentioned before, I really liked Jorja Fox. She always kinda reminded me of one of The Go-Go's. Jorja and I talked on the CSI set and stage quite a lot over the weeks and months. She was a peach.
So I of course asked her to hit the Academy Awards, giving almost zero notice. Damn.
Jorja was frustrated to answer that she was tied-up in a CBS/CSI promotional gig, on Oscar afternoon til about 5 PM. But she asked if I'd be interested in taking a female friend of hers, as a sorta blind date.
It was difficult, but I had to pass. And I told Jorja why: I felt it might make an uncomfortable moment for her friend, considering she had no idea who I was and had never met me.
But I of course thanked her for the sugary thought.
With Academy Award deadline approaching, I decided to ask CSI guest star Lisa Lackey along, who I'd spent time with in Vegas and liked quite a bit (see above). I found quickly that Lisa was away visiting her home continent Down Under. I left messages for Lisa in Australia and Los Angeles, but didn't hear back.
So I went ahead and made an Oscar arrangement with a longtime male friend. No space to do anything else. Besides, Danny Cannon didn't want to go, because back then he really didn't dig award shows.
Reckon that's changed by now. Maybe.
In the interim, Danny and I sat in his office a couple days before the night...when the subject of Björk the singer came up. Björk was nominated for an Oscar that year and would of course be there. Danny told me about his time with Björk on his YOUNG AMERICANS movie, and how it was truly interesting to work with her in a studio, recording the film's title song. Danny said if I happened to see Björk at Dorothy Chandler to say "hi" from him and wish her the best on his behalf.
No problem, baby.
Strangely enough, Lisa Lackey called Sunday afternoon a couple hours before the Oscars. She'd literally just gotten off a 23-hour delayed flight from Australia, and only now picked-up my message in LA. She wasn't happy to hear that I'd already gotten a companion, but was quite understanding that I had to book the slot...on top of her being completely jet-lagged from big travel, anyway.
Damn. Sweet of her to call, for sure.
Now...
I could offer a wild and faceted tale about the Academy Awards trip that year...but I'll jot the smaller details and hope you're even interested.
Russell Crowe, winning Best Actor for GLADIATOR: Before the second syllable escaped Oscar presenter Hilary Swank (who I later bumped into, literally) it was my voice first yelling "Yeeeeeaaah!" Still on YouTube, in fact. Hah!
Later, "an enchanted moment" in the front row
after the show, with Juliette Binoche. Amazing. She was... What can I
say? Qui est d'une beauté luxueuse, éclatante...?
I don't speak French;
just pretending.
Even later was a random encounter backstage with Marcia Gay Harden, who beamed my way over the head and shoulders of her POLLOCK win. We were just kind of staring at each other, smiling. For 20 full seconds, even.
She's so great.
Next was a thing with Winona Ryder, which was funny as hell. She was kind of...charmingly petite, in the coolest way.
And then of course a collision with God, er, Sir Ridley Scott, resulting in a fabulous yet quick conversation wherein I thanked him for reading my GIL FARRINGTON story, and also the big "Conceptual Image" adventure project of mine he explored at Percy Main.
So I said to Ridley, in conclusion, "Sir, you are truly The Admiral of the Fucking Fleet." Which I stole from Russ Crowe, of course. Save for the "fuck" bit.
Ridley laughed his ass off, warmly shook my hand with a small pat from his left one. Pretty sure he had no idea what the projects were that I thanked him for, but hey: what a chap.
Skipping enormous detail:
Just before leaving Dorothy Chandler, guess who I see? The Swan herself, Björk. As you may remember, that night she wore quite a wild outfit, like a swan. So I rushed over, gently grabbed the swan (by the left shoulder) and said, "Hello, B: Danny Cannon sends his love and best wishes." She was curiously blank-faced for a second, then put on a big smile.
And then she was whisked-off by some guard, or something. That outfit, though... And funny that she's three months younger than I am, to the day.
Closing out the Academy Awards
affair, I ran into Ben Bratt on the way to the exit. He sat behind Tom
Hanks that night and was knocked-out that I was there at all. But he
well remembered our time together on Dick Wolf’s ”Nasty Boys”.
Hell of a dude.
Now back to the Billy Petersen roller coaster story, bedrock from the image above:
If you look at the photo, I knew everyone pictured. Some were old multi-project friends. Some recent. Many stories, indeed.
As before, that's Danny Cannon on the left and my right hand beside him on the coaster's "camera brick" pipe. Billy's strapped and ready to make his oft-discussed "brain-clearing" trip to the sky.
On that night, which at the time was running late, Danny was totally fatigued and frustrated with the eons it was taking to assemble the coaster's camera mounts. He'd given Billy a lot of cool direction but mostly everyone was sitting and waiting for safe assembly of the camera, after it failed the first run.
The clock went on. The hotel had little customer business that hour and the coaster itself was security closed most of the day. I stayed on set, watching the goings-on with the crew. Wasn't my job of course, but it seemed like a good move, just to scan for possible flaw or error.
I noticed after maybe 20 minutes that Danny had disappeared. Had no idea where he was, or why. Again, not my business at the moment, so I let it go.
But I didn't let it go when people started looking for Danny at minute 35. Things went from the crew basically asking if anyone had seen him to an almost frantic use of walkie-talkies and cell phones.
I left the set STAT, because I kind of had an idea and was also quite concerned. I searched well apart from the coaster, checking New York-New York secluded wings and closed shops.
And then I caught a guy standing way back in a semi-dark hotel arcade, which was otherwise totally empty. I ran up and saw it was Danny, welded to a game. Can't remember the cabinet, but Danny was wildly playing the machine, super-lost in concentration. I started laughing and said, "Dude! The whole company's lookin' for ya!"
He turned right at me, like he'd spilt a coffee. On that we both ran back to the coaster. The crew was happy, and hoped he was fine. Danny told them he'd just been working on a schedule for tomorrow...and then looked at me with a slight laugh in his eyes.
When CSI finished its seasons in February 2015, Danny Cannon had become a major and fantastically wealthy producer/director in US television. He later Executive Produced the well-received series Gotham, among others.
And I lost Danny's friendship, totally. By entirely my own fault.
While
I've had years of issues with some truly foul people in Hollywood,
shit-crawling serpents you'd never want to give the time of day, what
happened between Danny Cannon and myself was all about me.
In the years with Cannon, I wasn't built in such a way to deal with my personal artistic/Hollywood stuff constantly falling off the shelf and never moving forward...while repeatedly intersecting the sewer-end of human evolution from Wilshire to Franklin. It knocked pieces off my personality and exposed a lotta mental bile.
Yes, everyone has to deal with hardship and bad people when aiming for a career in the Thirty Mile Zone...but even now, in late 2024, and with a huge amount of wisdom from vast sources of years, some of the things that happened (nothing to do with Danny) seem exceptionally odd. Way beyond typical rejection stuff and scummy people that virtually everyone in entertainment has to deal with.
As a
woman I greatly admired once said, who I was lucky to casually know,
"There is no 'karma' necessarily in the movie business. Terrible people
succeed all the time. Truth and justice do not prevail." That was Lynda Obst,
on Charlie Rose. You're likely familiar with Lynda's A-List movies,
books, and magazines.
I liked to call her, "My fave astrophysicist
disguised as tasteful high-end producer."
Sadly, Lynda passed
away 22 October 2024, two weeks after the first version of this CSI
tale. Still tough to think about.
RIP, Lynda.
Continuing with the Danny Cannon story:
For years I foolishly tried to get things back in order with Danny. I sent way, way too many lengthy fuckin' e-mails, letters, and apologetic bullshit. Til maybe 2023, even.
Again, whatever. And the truth is, I'm only totally aware today because 25 November 2023 radically changed my entire perspective and ability to observe. Nothing since has been as it was. You might say it was a little like finding a piece of Dave Hargrave's "True Sight" glass.
As a closer to all the above, figured I should mention a certain oddball fact: I've never seen a single ep of CSI.
Not one.
Oh, and the Billy Petersen/Danny Cannon roller coaster production photo? Printed at the CSI Vegas office HQ either the night it was shot or the next morning. It was then given to Billy, who signed and passed it to Danny.
On one of our M3 adventures the same afternoon, Danny left the photo in the rear leather pouch of the car's front passenger seat. I didn't find it til a year later.
Cheers.
- Addeddate
- 2024-11-24 17:25:19
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- ASG-Danny-Cannon-and-Billy-Petersen-CSI-October-2000-III
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