THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1996, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Thursday, March 7, 1996 TAG: 9603070065
SECTION: DAILY BREAK PAGE: E1 EDITION: FINAL
TYPE: Column
SOURCE: Larry Bonko
LENGTH: Long : 151 lines
WHEN GEORGE CLOONEY of ``ER'' trades his stethoscope and green scrubs for a cape and cowl to play Batman in the movies later this year, his co-stars on the NBC series will wish George well, carry on without him and never miss a beat.
So spoke Anthony Edwards not long ago when the man who plays the earnest Dr. Mark Greene on network television's highest-rated program met with TV writers in Los Angeles.
Edwards reminded the press that ``ER'' is an ensemble of polished actors. Not a one-man show. ``We are better as a group than as individual actors and realize the series is bigger than any one person.''
That includes hunkster Clooney, who will reportedly earn between $25 and $28 million in a three-picture deal for Warner Brothers, which also produces ``ER.''
The cast will rally 'round to fill in for Clooney, said Edwards. ``Because of the mutual respect we have for each other, no one in the cast is feeling anything but happy for those who have opportunities and success on other levels.
``However, we expect George to light up the screen when he returns.''
Making movies must seem downright leisurely to Clooney after the breathless pace of ``ER.'' It takes only eight days to film each episode of ``ER'' on claustrophobic sets built to resemble the Linda Vista Hospital in Southern California where they shot the pilot exactly two years ago this month.
``You have no windows,'' said Edwards - balding, virtually chinless, 33 years old. ``You have the feeling of being stuck underwater in a submarine for 14 hours a day or in a Las Vegas casino where there is no sunlight, no clocks. It gets a little batty.''
``The filming is chaotic,'' chimed in co-executive producer Lydia Woodward. ``It's a mess with maybe 50 people in the crew and 50 extras involved most of the time. The show is a testament to the actors' ability to concentrate and focus.''
``ER'' is television's first wildly successful drama for the easily-bored, short-attention-span, born-with-a-remote control-in-their-hands Generation X.
As ``ER'' begins Thursday night at 10, the emergency room doors fly open. ``Possible cardiac arrest!''
The doors open wide again.
A drug smuggler from Bolivia swallowed a half kilo of cocaine wrapped in condoms. Will he survive if the condoms burst?
The doors pop open one more time. ``He came in with respiratory distress. When we were taking vitals, he crashed.''
Time to spark him. Defibrillate.
Trauma. Trauma. Trauma.
``Complete lunacy,'' said Edwards of the filming at Warner Brothers studios in Burbank, Calif. To give the show the look of a real trauma center, the sets have ceilings and four walls. That's unlike traditional open sets which make it easier to move the actors, camera, lights and sound equipment around.
On the ``ER'' set, cast and crew are constantly elbow to elbow with each other. The cast feels relief when ``ER'' leaves the sound stage bunkers and goes on the road.
This is a series set in Chicago, at the fictional Cook County General. When the script calls for scenes in the Loop, on an elevated train near Wrigley Field or outside a snowy Chicago landmark hotel, the cast and crew packs up and goes East.
No fooling the ``ER'' audience. No fake file-footage Chicago. No medical mumbo jumbo in the dialogue.
What's it mean when they call for a CBC on ``ER''? Complete blood count. When they say MI? Myocardial infarction. Heart attack.
By now, after watching ``ER'' for almost two full seasons, viewers know that one of the first procedures ordered for a patient in trauma is. . . what?
Blood gases. Bingo! It's a test to measure levels of oxygen and carbon dioxide levels in the blood.
``They're hip,'' said Edwards of the ``ER'' viewers including those who take to the Internet to re-live every scene of every episode.
Daniel Greene, a student at George Washington University, has set up his own ``ER'' page on the worldwide web (Danny(AT)SEAS. GWU.edu), cataloging the liveliest dialogue. (The bible for ``ER'' fandom is ``Behind the Scenes at `ER' '' written by Janine Pourroy and published by Ballentine Books for $15).
Edwards plays the mostly-in-control chief resident Greene. In my interview with Edwards, here is what he said of Greene:
``What happens to him feels real to the people watching. He's good at what he does but he loses some patients. He's a great guy but his wife leaves him. We're alike in only one way. We're the same height. I have great respect for him because Greene does emergency room medicine so well. . . . ''
Also meeting the press was Eriq LaSalle, who plays the moody, unforgiving Dr. Peter Benton and Noah Wyle, cast as the overeager med student John Carter.
LaSalle on Benton: ``We have some similarities. I'm hard on myself as is he. I'm hard on other people. Critical. I am obsessed with trying to make what I do the best it can be. A perfectionist thing. We share that. But we are very different in that I have a sense of humor. Benton doesn't allow himself that. I like and admire him.''
Wyle on Carter: ``He's clumsier than I am. But he's better at math and science. We both like to work hard, pay attention to detail and are self-critical. . . .''
Two years ago, who ever heard of Wyle and LaSalle?
Clooney (Dr. Doug Ross) was just another Hollywood hunk looking for the big break. Who remembers him from ``Roseanne''? From ``Sisters''? Edwards had some time in the Hollywood sun thanks to his work in films (``Top Gun'') and 10 episodes on ``Northern Exposure'' as the man in the bubble. But he was no household name.
Nor was Sherry Stringfield (Dr. Susan Lewis), all but forgotten in her role on ``NYPD Blue.'' Nor was Julianna Margulies, who plays the back-from-the-dead nurse Carol Hathaway. Today, all are as famous as being on America's highest-rated TV show can make them.
The ``ER'' actors are obliged to stay with the show for five years, and that includes Clooney, who replaces Val Kilmer in ``Batman and Robin.'' That long commitment scared Edwards away from working in a series before now.
``I had a fear of television. I was afraid that I would become bored with a series or the series would destroy me as an actor. I've known other actors who worked on shows four and five years, and looked like they've been dragged through hell,'' he said.
Edwards put aside his fears when he read the first script from the show's creator, author Michael Crichton. Crichton put ``ER'' together in league with Steven Spielberg after Tony Thomopoulos found the script gathering dust at Spielberg's Amblin Entertainment.
``ER'' has helped NBC to become a prime-time powerhouse, the No. 1-rated network in 1995-96 making hundreds of millions in profits. More will come in two years from now when ``ER'' moves into syndication. Turner Broadcasting bought the cable rights for $1.2-million per episode.
When the ratings come out every Friday morning, said Woodward, the smiles get bigger and bigger at Amblin Television, Warner Brothers and NBC. ``ER'' has averaged a 22.6 rating, 37 share and is seen in 60 million homes
The producers plan ``ER'' in blocks of five to six episodes at a time. ``We tell the writers to balance out the medical and personal aspects of the scripts,'' Woodward said.
It takes the ``ER'' crew a week to set up an episode after the script is approved, eight days to shoot it and five days in post-production.
When Clooney temporarily takes leave of ``ER,'' the movies will have a new Batman and ``ER'' loses its joker. Remember the terrific ``Love's Labor Lost'' episode, when Greene failed to save the life of young woman about to give birth?
During the tense delivery scene, Clooney had the prop masters remove the stunt baby doll and slip a rubber monster doll into camera range. Clooney is forever covering telephones on the set with slippery surgical lube stuff.
The laughs are welcome, said Edwards.
``When they yell, `Cut!' after some particularly serious, tough trauma scene, we'll go and goof off somewhere,'' said Edwards. ``Have fun. Play basketball. You have to do something to break the tension of working on such a demanding show inside a sound stage from 6:30 in the morning until long after it gets dark.''
Could the hours be any worse in a real trauma center? ILLUSTRATION: NBC color photo
Anthony Edwards
by CNB