The United Methodist Church loomed above the street. Its walls were a grid of brown bricks and its windows were biblical stories frozen in stained glass. The roof was a series of steep pitched sharp angles. Film crew workers buzzed around the building like bees on a honeycomb as they set up lights on tall stands and ran fat black cables to deep humming generators. Other cables ran to trailers where engineers worked electronic boards with twisty knobs and glowing lights. More workers observed flickering monitors and barked orders into radios as they sat in tents that lined the road.
Fox and I had road tripped nearly six hours to watch from across the street. We were among a group of curious onlookers. Cameras clicked and clacked away while the flashes strobed our eyes.
A lean twenty-something man leaned against a light pole in front of us. With his blonde goatee and loose clothes, he resembled Shaggy from Scooby Doo. Instead of solving mysteries, our Shaggy was a production assistant. “When they announce they are shooting you have to be real quiet, ok?” We all murmured in quiet tones like we were in the church instead of looking at it from outside.
I had snapped off a few photos as a fan in a blue shirt with the red and yellow Superman S walked up to me. “Hey, are you with the press?” He pointed at the camera that hung around my neck. I had brought my cousin’s Canon Rebel to capture the highest quality photos possible. (Although, I discovered the fancier a camera, the harder it was to guarantee a proper picture. I had to worry about ISO, shutter speed, and other things of camera-y professionalism.) I settled on clicking the dial to automatic and using it like a point and shoot camera.
“The Press? What?”
Supes said, “Yeah people have been taking and publishing all those good pictures of Henry Cavill as Superman, in the costume.”
“No, I’m not. I’m not even really sure what you are talking about.”
“Oh OK. With a camera like that, I was hoping maybe you had taken some of those pictures.” The August morning sun glinted off of his glasses.
“I wish I had but I’m just here to see the movie get made.”
As if that were his cue, Shaggy started in on a lecture about how we could take pictures of the church but to please not share them. The production didn’t want any unapproved photos leaked to the internet and possibly ruin a moment from the movie.
Supes coughed up, “Does that include cell phones?”
Shaggy said, “I think you’re fine with a cell phone.”
“Well it’s not like you can stop me anyway.” Supes spat this statement at Shaggy like he had a mouthful of poison. Shaggy straightened his shirt that read, “Production Assistant” while Supes took a few pictures of the church with his cell phone and then Supes strutted off.
Fox leaned over to me and said, “Wow, what an a-hole.”
I laughed in agreement when Shaggy’s radio belched some garbled message out its speaker. He said, “Ok they are filming; time to be quiet.” There was silence as we all stared at the outside of the church. The crew had stopped shuffling around. Shaggy’s radio chirped one more and time and he yelled, “Action!” The new Superman movie, Man of Steel, was filming inside the church.
 |
| This is me outside the Methodist Church |
Superman has always been my hero. As a child, my favorite towel or blanket tied about my neck was all I needed to be Superman; jumping off furniture, posing with my hands on my hips, and using my puffed up chest to stop imaginary bullets. I ran with my hands outstretched in front of me “flying” through the house while humming the Superman theme from the Christopher Reeve movies. That John Williams music was a must when I pretended to rip open my shirt and expose that magnificent S. While I no longer run around with a towel around my neck, my love for Superman has remained. I was browsing the internet when I discovered that Man of Steel would be filming in the small town of Plano, Illinois. Plano would double for Smallville, Kansas. It was a drivable distance so there was no reason I could not see Smallville for myself. My broad chested Korean friend, Chris Fox, wanted to join me on the pilgrimage to Plano. I kissed my wife and two kids goodbye and took off with Fox on our journey.
 |
| Fox |
By the time we left on August 25th, 2011, movie websites were flooded with photos of how set builders converted main street Plano into the main street Smallville. I told Fox how I pictured us standing around with the crew while the director yelled action among the repainted and doctored up buildings. Fox reached into his bag and pulled out a fresh baseball that was still in its plastic box. “I’m not much of a Superman fan boy but I hope we get to see Kevin Costner.” (Costner played Superman’s Earthly father, Jonathan Kent) “If we see him and I get this signed, that would be AWESOME!”
We arrived to our motel in Yorkville, Illinois not long after midnight on the 26th. As we checked in, the lady who worked behind the counter encouraged us to go see the set right away. The idea of seeing the set obliterated any road weariness. We took the kind lady’s directions and put them to good use.
A brief drive across Highway 35 brought us into Plano. The middle of town looked like a spaceship landing zone that was trying to be covered up by the government. Main Street was lit up with huge floodlights insuring that the downtown set was in perpetual daylight. A ten foot fence, covered in thick black tarp, surrounded the entire downtown area and police officers guarded all the gates into the set. The set held the secrets of Smallville and it wasn’t going to give them up without a challenge.
Fox and I drove a few laps around the perimeter trying to root out a weakness in the defenses. None were to be had. Finally, Fox suggested we pull up and talk to two of the police officers.
“Hey, officers. What’s going on here?” I played dumb, hoping they would offer up some info.
Wide smiles broke across their mustached faces and one of them said, “This is a movie set. They’re making the new Superman here.”
“Really? Here?!”
“Yeah, where have you been?” He wasn’t buying my act.
“I’m from out of town and saw the place all lit up. I wanted to know what was happening.”
“Yep, this is the new Superman.” He still had his smirk on his face that said, “Not on my watch.”
Fox asked, “Have you guys seen anyone famous?”
The other officer spoke up, “No they only come in during the day and we’re stuck working the night shift. But it is still pretty exciting.”
I admitted defeat. “Thanks guys! That is awesome!”
“You’re welcome,” they said as I rolled my window up against the warm August night air then drove on.
Fox and I got up early the next morning and made our way back to Plano. The town reminded us a lot of our hometown, Prairie City, Iowa. Plano had an ice cream shop, several churches and the standard baseball fields. The quaint houses had lush, green, well mowed yards. It held all the charm of a Norman Rockwell painting, yet it had a buzz to it; an energy. It was as if the town was on the edge of its seat, waiting to stand up and cheer. Residents were drawn to the center of town like ants to a dropped piece of candy. Something special was happening in their town and they wanted to be a part of it.
The two of us had followed some of these people to the Methodist Church where we found the crew setting up for some interior shots. We had been watching and taking pictures for a good part of the morning.
“CUT!” Shaggy yelled to the crowd. I let out a breath, not realizing I had been holding it.
“Has anything happened?” A blonde girl in her late twenties clenched a stroller that held a sleeping little boy. A tall skinny guy was on her heels.
Fox replied, “Not really. They keep calling ‘action’ and ‘cut’ but not much has happened.”
We got to talking with her and found out her name was Deanna. She was a hairstylist from the nearby town of Naperville and she and her husband had visited the set several times before and during filming. She explained, “When they first built up the set for downtown, they let people come look at it. Here’s my camera if you’d like to see the pictures.” Fox and I stood there holding her small
 |
| Photo Courtesy of Deanna Tickle |
digital camera and looked over the pictures of storefronts and restaurants that had been reworked to look like Smallville: buildings repainted with Smallville on them, a realty office with listings of real local homes but all the addresses were changed to Smallville, Kansas and even a Smallville 7-11, which had been built specifically for the movie. Deanna even had pictures of Amy Adams as Lois Lane standing around the 7-11.
“Here’s your camera back. Wow, those are some good pictures. We were hoping to see the set like that while we were here but they have it locked down pretty tight.”
“Yeah they wouldn’t let anyone in as soon as they started filming. Although, there have been some neat things. They blew up a car the other day and there have been helicopters flying around.” Deanna held a hand over her eyes against the sun as she looked back towards the downtown area. There was a playground between us and downtown but we could still see the black tarped fence glaring at us, mocking us for not being able to see what it was hiding.
Fox noted that Shaggy wasn’t calling action or cut anymore. The crew scrambled to get lights moved and held meters; testing the light quality. The hot August sun had moved from morning to noon and the lighting was changing as the day progressed. I said, “I guess they are moving the light rigs around to compensate for the changing sunlight. I’m sure the light quality inside has changed so they have to make up for it by moving the lights.”
Fox said, “Let’s go get something to eat. I’m pretty thirsty too.”
I agreed. “Yeah they aren’t really doing much out here.”
We ambled our way down to a Casey’s, a red roofed convenience store. We used the sidewalk right next to the fence and tried to see through any holes or seams in the tarp. Only the backs of buildings were visible although the tops of the buildings that lined Main Street protruded above the fence like squared shoulders of hunkered giants. Some of the buildings were facades. They were fake buildings where only the fronts had been constructed to look good for the camera shots from Main Street. From the back, they were one wall held up by large wooden braces.
Casey’s sat on a corner next to a gate to the downtown set. A boxy green delivery truck sat in front of the gate with “Smallville Sentinel” painted across its side. I paused a moment to revel in those words. They were a reminder of why I had come. There stood a piece of the mythical town and it wasn’t made of ink and paper from a comic book. It was made of real metal, sitting on a real street. I was standing a mere fifty feet from Smallville. I smiled knowing I was close enough to heave a rock onto Main Street.
Yet the truck was indeed a Smallville Sentinel. It guarded the bustling entrance to the set. It sat with a unit of uniformed cops and yellow shirted security personnel who lorded over the gate. They halted everyone approaching the gate to check IDs and ask, “What’s your business on the set today?” I glanced over to the blacked out fence as the smile on my face faded. Yeah, I could throw a rock into Smallville, but that rock would see more of it than I ever would. Everything was so secret and so locked down that there was no way I would get to see the celluloid world that was just behind the black visqueen. I had wanted to see cameras rolling, technicians running around and actors plying their trade. I thought to myself, “I hope something exciting happens because I didn't drive all this way to look at cops and fences.”
With that in mind, Fox and I grabbed our drinks and our food. While I paid, Fox asked a few people in Casey’s if they had heard or seen anything of Costner. They hadn’t. We walked back past the fire station that was next to the park. Then we cut through the park to join the crowd that was still milling around by the church.
Deanna saw us coming and ran up to us, “Oh my God, you guys missed it! Henry came out and was being filmed walking out of the church door over and over.” I glanced at the empty church door and steps. Deanna jammed her camera at us. “Here! Look!” The camera heckled me with
 |
| Photo Courtesy of Deanna Tickle |
image after image of Henry Cavill, dressed in a yellow flannel shirt and jeans, as he loped down the cement stairs and onto the front sidewalk of the church. I handed the camera back to her in disbelief.
Her eyes sparkled with delight as she flipped through pictures. The happier she got, the more I felt sick to my stomach. I should have known they were going to film outside. They had quit filming inside. The crew wasn’t adjusting the lights for interior shots, they were adjusting them to properly light the shot of Henry, as Clark Kent, walking out of the church. I studied film in college, I labored to watch all the special features on my DVDs and Blurays so I knew how a production worked. It was the simplest arithmetic to know the shoot was moving outside. I had my chance to see cameras roll on Henry and I had blown it for a drink of Chicago Bears Edition Gatorade and a greasy slice of gas station pepperoni pizza.
My knees turned to tapioca so I plopped my butt onto the curb as everything started to sink in. I was never going to see Smallville and I wasn’t going to see any filming other than what little I had seen at the church. Clark Kent had been 30 feet from where I had been standing and yet I let something as contemptible as hunger and thirst keep me from seeing him. I sat there moping while I stared at the craggy cement of the street as I grew furious with myself.
A bike squealed to a stop on the street in front of us. I pulled myself out of the quagmire of should-have and would-have to see it was Supes mounted on the bike.
Supes asked us, “Hey guys, how’s it going?”
“We just missed Henry,” Fox replied.
“You didn’t get a picture of him?” He pointed at my camera.
“No, we weren’t here.”
“Oh man, that sucks! Well, I’ve met him. He’s a nice guy.”
I stood up. “That’s a nice ID. How did you manage to get that?” A lariat hung below his smug face. It held credentials. The kind that got you onto movie sets.
A smirk smeared its way across his face, “Yeah, I’m part of the security for the movie. Sorry for the ruse earlier today. I wanted to make sure you weren’t with the press like I mentioned. They keep releasing pictures we don’t want people to see.”
I saw a chance for some info. “Do you know if he’s finished filming over here?”
“No man, I’m just here to make sure people aren’t taking photos of stuff they aren’t supposed to. See you around.” Supes rode off on his bike.
I said, “Man, that guy really is an a-hole,” then sat back down on the curb.
I was contemplating how I should have brought my little Kodak instead of the attention grabbing and overly complicated Cannon when Deanna ran up to us. I had been so lost in my own thoughts I hadn’t noticed she was gone. “Henry is filming at the fire station!” She pointed across the park to the back of the fire station. She wasn’t lying, there was a small crowd of the production crew and a guy pointing a large movie camera at the back door.
My heart pulled itself out of my stomach as Fox clamped a hand on my shoulder, “Here's your chance.”
We made our way through the park toward the fire station where Henry was repeatedly filmed walking through the back door. The film crew made sure each take was properly captured. Once the crew was satisfied, Henry turned and walked toward us. I had not followed Henry Cavill’s career very closely. I only started paying attention to him because he was cast as Superman. He had been in some movies and some TV series that I hadn’t seen. But none of that mattered. At that moment, he was the most important person on the planet.
Henry, still dressed in the flannel and jeans from Deanna’s pictures, walked towards us with a powerful grace. His broad shoulders, dark hair and square jaw said he was Superman but his quick smile flashed good looks that said he was a movie star. Fox was beside me as I fired my camera like it was a machine gun, capturing his every step toward us.
Deanna shrieked right next to me, “HENRY! HENRY! Can I get a picture of you?!”
Henry stopped and smiled at Deanna, “Of course you can.” I stopped taking pictures and gazed at him. I had never heard Henry talk before. I knew he was British and expected his deep voice to have the flair of an English accent but it held more than that. He’s a native of the Channel Island of Jersey and his accent held a slightly different tone than a typical English accent. It was thicker and more robust. Even with the accent, he had the vocal styling required to play Superman.
Deanna ran up to him with her own smile spread across her face. She gripped him in a big hug then held her camera out yelling, “Will someone take a picture of us? Please?! Anyone?!” Before Fox could move, I dropped my camera around my neck and grabbed hers. She gasped a “Thank you!” Her hand was shaking so bad that as soon as the camera hit my hand she let go and it dropped to the ground. Her eyes lit up in panic, “Oh no! Oh no!”
I bent down, picked it up and turned it on, “We’re good. It still works.” Henry patiently waited and softly laughed as Deanna quivered next to him. Her enthusiasm was contagious and he slid his arm around her as she snaked hers around his waist. She secreted her other hand to his stomach, getting a feel of his astonishing physique.
I snapped a couple pictures of them and Deanna’s face beamed with appreciation. She looked at Henry and exhaled a, “Thank you,” while I handed her camera back to her.
“Henry, can I get your autograph?” I reached into my pocket and pulled out my In-Case-Of-Famous-People marker.“I don’t have anything to sign so will you sign my shirt?” I decided long before I went on the trip that I wasn’t going to be one of the fan boys that wore a Superman shirt to hang around the set. I am a nerd but I still have some self-respect. However, I did wear a blue t-shirt that resembled the blue of Superman’s costume. I figured that was close enough to count as being fan without going over the top.
Henry took the pen from my trembling hand and kind of cocked his head in confusion, “Sign your shirt?”
“Yeah, it’s all I got.”
He laughed, “Ok. Where would you like it?” I pointed to the left side of my chest. He leaned in, “What’s your name?”
“Jim Minteer.” I looked at Fox and he snorted a laugh.
Henry reached out and started writing on my shirt. I looked down and saw Henry’s forearm as it held my shirt in place while he inscribed his name. It was thickly corded with muscle, with deep grooves running around his forearm towards his elbow. Henry’s brow furrowed in concentration while the clicks and whirrs of cameras peppered the air. The pen steamrolled its way across my chest as sun beat down on the back of my neck. He finished the autograph and handed the marker back to me. I shook his hand, “Thank you so much! Thanks for being Superman.” He nodded a “You’re welcome,” then one of his handlers marched up and told him he had to go. He strode away with all of us taking pictures of his back.
Deanna got one last word with him, “We can’t wait to see the movie!”
Henry looked back at her over his shoulder and said, “Me too.”
He disappeared into the small village of campers and trailers that had been set up by the Methodist church. I studied the scrawled black words on my blue cotton chest. “To Jim. Best, Henry Cavill.” I read it once, twice more then looked back up at the blank street where he just stood and I elbowed Fox in stunned glee. I had just met Henry Cavill. I had just met Superman.
Deanna poured over her camera. She pistoned her camera into her husband’s face, “Oh my God! We just met him! That was Henry! That was awesome!” I realized at that moment I had my camera around my neck while Henry signed my shirt. I didn’t have a single picture of our meeting.
The tapioca feeling was trickling back into my knees. “Please tell me you got some pictures of that.” I pleaded with Deanna.
“I got some, yeah!” I bolted over to her. It was not a picture of Henry and I posing together but it caught the moment of the signature. The tapioca vanished.
“I got some too,” some guy yelled. I walked over to him and he got similar pictures from the signing as well. He introduced himself as Andy.
“You guys are lifesavers!” I threw each of them a high five.
I had taken some photos of Deanna holding out her camera while she stood next to Henry, begging people to get a photo of her. We swapped email addresses and promised to send each other copies of our Henry encounter. Andy entered our info into his phone and promised to send us his pictures as well.
A small crowd of curious people gathered round to see our pictures and hear the story of our brush with Henry. Deanna showed her pictures to those that asked, “I yelled at him to take a picture and he was so nice. I dropped my camera but it still worked.“ While she spun her tale, Andy gave illustration with his photos as well.
Fox and I stood around and injected our own bits to the story, “Yeah, the camera was off but it still worked,” and, “You bet Henry was really nice, even after Deanna hugged him.”
 |
| Photo Courtesy of Andy Schein |
We beamed as people told us how lucky we were to have met him. The crowd dispersed as people trickled away to get more pictures of the production. Eventually it was Deanna, Andy, Fox and I left mulling around.
I said, “We actually met him! Now, I can’t believe we have to wait two years for the movie to come out.”
“It’s going to be two years?” Fox asked.
“Yep. It will be June of 2013 before we get to see it.”
“That’s a long time but it will be worth it. I promise to get my pictures to you,” Deanna stressed before she left. The smile hadn’t left her face. She spun around, grabbed her stroller and sauntered away with her husband as her hundredth retelling of seeing Henry faded into the distance.
Andy, Fox and I hung out a bit longer. Andy was a dark haired guy and he held a digital point-and-shoot camera. He regaled us with stories of photographing other sets in the area. “The crew had a highway locked down while filming a scene but I was able to walk through a cornfield and get about 30 yards away to snap some pictures of Henry and Kevin Costner.” I asked him why he would do that and risk being caught by security or the cops.
 |
| Photo Courtesy of Andy Schein |
With a mischievous gleam in his eye, he responded, “Anything for a good photo.”
Fox asked him, “So, is Kevin Costner still around?”
Andy shook his head, “No. He was done filming two days ago. Although, I did hear a great story about him. He went to buy ice cream at the ice cream shop across town and there were kids playing baseball in the park nearby. Costner yelled at them asking if they wanted ice cream. Of course they wanted ice cream so he ended up buying some for all of them and hung out with them while they ate it.”
Fox barked out, “Damn it! I was hoping he was still around. I really wanted him to sign a baseball.”
“I’m sorry,” Andy said, shrugging his shoulders.
A soft bass beat started to permeate the air. The three of us went quiet and looked at one another. Andy grinned and said, “Helicopters!”
The whump whump whump got louder until is was reverberating off the buildings, shaking the windows. Two black bulbous military helicopters blasted their way across the sky. They were chased by a long black helicopter with a large white round pod hanging off its nose.
“That’s an IMAX camera!” Fox yelped as he pointed to the pod. The helicopters charged their way over our heads and banked over the downtown set.
Andy spoke up, “Yeah it is. They are filming parts of this in IMAX. Let’s go check them out.”
The three of us hustled down Main Street, past the Casey’s store and down to a house laden residential area as the helicopters landed in a thunderstorm of dust behind some houses. The black tarp stopped as the fence gave way to backyards and we could see where the two black helicopters squatted on their skids in an empty lot.
We waited a few beats but nothing happened. Evidently, the crew had just been parking the helicopters in the empty lot, not filming any action. Andy snapped a few photos when a yellow shirted security lady bellowed that we couldn’t take any pictures.
We left the lady squawking behind us and Fox said, “Wow, that was kind of a bust. I was hoping to see some army guys running around and doing cool stuff.”
Andy said, “If you want to see something cool you should check out the Kent farm house. It’s only a few miles outside of Yorkville. I think you guys would like it.”
We had to pull off the side of Old Schoolhouse Road to look at the Kent farm house because another Yellow Shirt guarded it. The house was a two story that sloughed off white paint like it had a peeling sunburn. It was framed by large trees and had a barn that gave an exclamation point to the farmscape. Black plastic covered the entire front of the house like a visqueen band aid. Deanna and Andy both said the crew had blown up the front end of the house for the movie. While I thought the house would be out in the middle of nowhere, it peered at the Whitetail Ridge Golf Club across the highway. Houses lined the concise fairways and chunky, yet well manicured greens, leaving the farmhouse in anything but isolation.
I snapped a few photos. “Fox, this is where Clark discovers his powers and where Jonathan and Martha mold him into Superman. He learns who he is here. To Superman, this is home. And here we sit, right in front of the place." I looked over at Fox, "You know the best part of all this?”
Fox shook his head.“No. what?”
“Everyone is going to get to see all this in the movie but we got to see it for real. We are part of a select few that can point at the screen and say 'We were there.' I mean, we might not have been able to see all of downtown but who cares? We got to meet Superman himself and now we are sitting in front of the most iconic part of Smallville. It doesn't get much better than this! I can't wait to see how they show Smallville in the movie.”
Fox gazed at the house out his window.“Yeah, it will be great to see Costner walking around this place.”
I barked a laugh while Fox took the camera from me and looked at the pictures from the day. I shifted the car into drive. The road to Yorkville stretched out before us and so did a two year wait to see Man of Steel on the silver screen.
