Size Matters Not: The Extraordinary Life and Career of Warwick Davis by Warwick Davis Page B
Authors: Warwick Davis
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after all I’ve put you through, it’s yours.”
We’d passed the test; we’d both won our parts, fair and square. I still prefer to be cast against fellow actors today, so that I have to win the role as opposed to being given the job straight out.
This meant I had to forget about college; I was now going to play the title role in a major movie and would be away for eight months. This was going to be an extremely demanding production and I still didn’t realize quite how massive a challenge it would be. And I had no idea this film would make me famous. When I told Daniel the good news, his response was “Wicked! I’ll be best mates with a proper star!”
This would be my first role with my face on camera. In the Ewok costume I had overexaggerated the emotional expressions to bring them out in the physical behavior of my character and Ron warned me about overacting. “I want you to watch a few James Stewart movies,” he said, handing me VHS copies of It’s a Wonderful Life and Rear Window . “I want Willow to have a matter-of-fact style, like Stewart.” Ron would prove to be instrumental in turning me into a “proper” actor. I think the fact that Ron had also started young – he had become a TV star at the tender age of five – meant that he was more than qualified to take me under his wing. He supported me every step of the way and always wore a smile, no matter how difficult and trying the days became.
Work began before we’d even signed the contract; there were numerous costume and wig fittings and I needed to be measured for props, such as weapons. I also went through a barrage of mental and physical health checks. It was kind of like being an astronaut. It seemed as though there were hundreds of people who were preparing me for this great adventure – which, of course, there were.
Then there were the dozens of sword-fighting and fencing lessons, not to mention the baby-handling classes. Various mothers brought their babies to Elstree thinking their child was going to be the star (the whole film centers around a lost baby, which I take care of). These infants were in fact the rejects from the castings and were handed over to me to practice holding, calming down, changing, and how to carry them while running down a mountain being chased by a sorceress’s evil minions.
While the fencing lessons were terrific, b I was horrified to learn that I also had to learn to ride a horse. My sister had once tried to teach me. She sat me on the thing, gave it a whack, and it trotted off down the street with me perched unsteadily atop, unable to do anything to stop it.
“Couldn’t a motorcycle be magically transported into the film?” I implored. Alas no. To make matters worse, when I was introduced to the trainer, she mistook my name for “Merrick.” It rapidly developed into one of those awkward situations where I didn’t correct her straight away and so it soon became impossible. Forevermore I was “Merrick” to her.
It was a nightmare – my short legs stuck out at right angles. “You just don’t have the equitation, Merrick,” the trainer told me. I didn’t know about that, but one thing I knew for sure was that I couldn’t control the damn creature and it would canter wherever it wanted, despite my yells. After two weeks of lessons I looked like one of those plastic toy cowboy figures that you sit on horses with their legs fixed in a permanent U-shape.
Val came over to London about two months before we were due to start shooting so we could rehearse. This would hopefully mean that when we were on location we would be able to knock out solid performances of each scene in one or two takes, saving time and money.
Val and I were together the whole time he was in the UK. He was loads of fun and completely crazy, a real maverick and totally unpredictable. He constantly improvised his lines, which really kept me on my toes. He was always thinking about his
We’d passed the test; we’d both won our parts, fair and square. I still prefer to be cast against fellow actors today, so that I have to win the role as opposed to being given the job straight out.
This meant I had to forget about college; I was now going to play the title role in a major movie and would be away for eight months. This was going to be an extremely demanding production and I still didn’t realize quite how massive a challenge it would be. And I had no idea this film would make me famous. When I told Daniel the good news, his response was “Wicked! I’ll be best mates with a proper star!”
This would be my first role with my face on camera. In the Ewok costume I had overexaggerated the emotional expressions to bring them out in the physical behavior of my character and Ron warned me about overacting. “I want you to watch a few James Stewart movies,” he said, handing me VHS copies of It’s a Wonderful Life and Rear Window . “I want Willow to have a matter-of-fact style, like Stewart.” Ron would prove to be instrumental in turning me into a “proper” actor. I think the fact that Ron had also started young – he had become a TV star at the tender age of five – meant that he was more than qualified to take me under his wing. He supported me every step of the way and always wore a smile, no matter how difficult and trying the days became.
Work began before we’d even signed the contract; there were numerous costume and wig fittings and I needed to be measured for props, such as weapons. I also went through a barrage of mental and physical health checks. It was kind of like being an astronaut. It seemed as though there were hundreds of people who were preparing me for this great adventure – which, of course, there were.
Then there were the dozens of sword-fighting and fencing lessons, not to mention the baby-handling classes. Various mothers brought their babies to Elstree thinking their child was going to be the star (the whole film centers around a lost baby, which I take care of). These infants were in fact the rejects from the castings and were handed over to me to practice holding, calming down, changing, and how to carry them while running down a mountain being chased by a sorceress’s evil minions.
While the fencing lessons were terrific, b I was horrified to learn that I also had to learn to ride a horse. My sister had once tried to teach me. She sat me on the thing, gave it a whack, and it trotted off down the street with me perched unsteadily atop, unable to do anything to stop it.
“Couldn’t a motorcycle be magically transported into the film?” I implored. Alas no. To make matters worse, when I was introduced to the trainer, she mistook my name for “Merrick.” It rapidly developed into one of those awkward situations where I didn’t correct her straight away and so it soon became impossible. Forevermore I was “Merrick” to her.
It was a nightmare – my short legs stuck out at right angles. “You just don’t have the equitation, Merrick,” the trainer told me. I didn’t know about that, but one thing I knew for sure was that I couldn’t control the damn creature and it would canter wherever it wanted, despite my yells. After two weeks of lessons I looked like one of those plastic toy cowboy figures that you sit on horses with their legs fixed in a permanent U-shape.
Val came over to London about two months before we were due to start shooting so we could rehearse. This would hopefully mean that when we were on location we would be able to knock out solid performances of each scene in one or two takes, saving time and money.
Val and I were together the whole time he was in the UK. He was loads of fun and completely crazy, a real maverick and totally unpredictable. He constantly improvised his lines, which really kept me on my toes. He was always thinking about his