We shot it all in one day. I used my Smith Family clout to sneak us all onto CBS’s backlot on Radford Avenue in Studio City, which was where we filmed the show and only a fifteen-minute drive from our house. This backlot had once been the home of Republic Pictures, the low-budget studio that launched the careers of John Wayne, Gene Autry, and Roy Rogers. It still had an Old West street, complete with a post office and a saloon with those swinging shutter doors, that was perfect for my purposes. （Twenty years later, it was reconfigured into a contemporary New York street for Seinfeld’s exteriors.）
I reveled in re-creating some Sergio Leone trademarks, such as framing a shot through the sheriff’s straddled legs as he prepares to take on the other gunfighter. Dad pulled some excellent, hammy villain faces when I did the obligatory close-up of the bad guy’s squinty eyes. I was also pleased with how well we pulled off the special effect of Clint’s hat being shot off his head. It was entirely analog. We hooked a wire to his ballcap, and as he sat down on the edge of a water trough, Dad was lying flat on the ground behind the trough, out of sight, and simply yanked the wire to make the cap fly off.
The tension mounted as we marched our way through the shot list. None of us wanted to be the one who ruined one of the last setups in my carefully programmed sequence, as a single screwup would mean having to start all over again with a fresh film cartridge. But we had rehearsed so well that we nailed every shot and got the film done on the first pass! Clint, Cheryl, and I were relieved. Dad was the only one who wouldn’t have minded a do-over. He was having the time of his life, playing the heel while making a movie with his boys on that famous western backlot.
About the only complication I encountered was an issue with the talent . . .
CLINT
Hey, I immediately liked the concept Ron had for Deed of Daring-Do when he pitched it to me. I liked the gunfight and I liked that the film would be entered in a competition. But c’mon, I was the lead and this was going to take up some of my valuable time. More than just a lark in our backyard. I was used to getting paid for this amount of work.
We needed to have a talk. Kodak’s Teenager Filmmakers Contest offered cash prizes to the top three finishers in each category and I knew that Ron needed me, so I was in a great bargaining position. Acting as my own agent, I told Ron that if he wanted me in his film, it was going to take what we in the industry call gross points—say, 50 percent of them! Otherwise, he was welcome to scout out Toluca Lake for another boy to play his lead. I was not about to endure another Wild Country–style negotiation disaster.
My brother and I shook hands and he gave me a call time to report for work. Shooting in continuity made the process more thrilling and suspenseful; as we got close to the finish line, there was real pressure not to screw up. It felt like a two-minute drill, with Ron as the quarterback.
And guess what? Our little film cashed! Most of the other kids, intimidated by the time and editing constraints, did animated or claymation films. Deed of Daring-Do was one of the few live-action entries. The judges sent Ron a certificate lauding the film for its “good storyline,” “effective use of camera angle,” and “very good cuts.” That’s a better review than the one he got in his hometown paper for Apollo 13. Personally, I was pissed that we came in second, but still—not bad, given that there were thousands of entries.
Best of all, though, second place meant serious prize money: one hundred dollars. When Ron received the good news, he wasn’t up in his room for more than two minutes before I bounded up the stairs and demanded, “Where’s my fifty bucks?” Honestly, I was giving him a break, because he also won a case of Kodak Super 8 cartridges, which I had no interest in splitting with him. Ron resisted my petition for payment. I was forced to call in Dad to mediate. Our testimony lasted only a few minutes before Dad ruled in my favor. Ron forked over the greenbacks. I went out and bought baseball cards, while my big brother went on to have a billion-dollar filmmaking career.
RON
Clint’s demand was ballsy, but a deal was a deal and we split the money. It wasn’t as important to me as finishing in the top three. This wasn’t a local contest; the submissions had come in from all over the country. It was such a validation for me, a rocket boost precisely when I needed it.