MEMOIR
The Elephant’s Clock
How to finish ahead of schedule
Going to a meeting was always guesswork as to when you would actually get there. Traffic in Jakarta was getting bad and some of the measures the city was taking were good ideas that encountered unexpected obstacles. What we debated in our time off was why would these be unexpected? We came to the conclusion that some white advisors may be at the heart of it, because had it come from an Indonesian these things would never happen.
For example, to get from South Jakarta where our office was to Central Jakarta where the Ad Agencies (our usual clients) were, you had to take one of the major North-South arteries that were clogged with traffic. Our drivers would nonchalantly just shrug their shoulders, breathe out the word “macet,” and smile with tranquility.
What the city came up with is a commuter lane. But I think there it was called an express lane. Same as here, you’d need a minimum of three people in the car in order to legally access it. A lot of working folk used a driver to get around in a car. First because it provided needed employment and one should offer work opportunities whenever possible. And second because of the parking situation. You could not really leave the car unattended; due to limited space cars would have to be shuffled all the time. So you needed one more person in the car besides yourself and the driver in order to get into the express lanes.
So what happened was very predictable. A whole bunch of kids, teens and younger, quickly figured out how they could make money. They waited at the entrance of the restricted lanes. A car would stop, they’d hop in thus becoming the needed third person. They would get paid and dropped off at the end of the zone and would do the same thing in the return lanes. The kids got a lot of rides and it helped everybody out. Sort of, since everybody was doing it, it ended up being pretty much just as slow a ride as before.
Clearly any Indonesian working for the city would have known instinctively this would happen. In the discussions over Bintang beers we all agreed it must be some other white expat new to the place who thought this up.
We arrived at the meeting. Nobody really minded much if one was late since the traffic variables were acknowledged as too numerous and difficult for anyone to calculate. After the friendly and very cheerful hellos and handshakes — all very genuine, thank you! — we sat down to business.
This was about a detergent. A very popular and affordable detergent but this ad claimed a unique twist. “Of course many modern detergents take the stains out of your whites, but only *** (won’t mention the name) will get them to smell fresh and clean.”
Okay, we waited for it.
“Who else to truly appreciate a wonderful smell than Pongo! With his extraordinary nose! Pongo would pick out the fresh smelling garment … with HIS NOSE! Literally.”
Pongo was to be an elephant.
The reaction was predictably ecstatic — what a “brilliant idea,” so “on brand,” and “so clever,” “so … fresh … oh, I can’t believe I just said that,” and what a fantastic find, the name … “Pongo, how did you come up with that?!”
Truth is we were all genuinely happy. As these things go a spot with a lovely elephant on a white set was really not bad an idea, it genuinely could be fun. We were all in.
So here is how it was to go. A totally white set — a white infinity cyclorama and strung across the studio were 1000 white shirts. “Why 1000?” Because that was what the script said. Pongo uses his prodigious nose to pick up the fresh smelling one out of 1000 perfectly white shirts. “It will be in the Voice Over track” as obviously Pongo could not speak. So question now. Would these be long sleeve white shirts or short sleeve? Hmmm… What do you think? Hmmm … I don’t know what do you think? … Hmmmm… I think short sleeves would look better hung from the line. Yes !!! Brilliant again. Absolutely! … And it will be more appropriate to the product demographics, and … this is a warm country after all…
So now it came to how we will do this.
My first meeting was with my production designer, Nandy, an Indonesian who had an amazing sense of humor and with whom we had been through a lot of challenges trying to fit Western views of advertising into a culturally acceptable Indonesian consumer perception. Nandy could make the visuals work and keep the cultural connection. This time he said it was easy — white is white is white — nothing to translate.
The only thing he needed was enough money. There was no cyclorama infinity studio in Indonesia — we could paint the floor white, but building a cyc would be cost prohibitive. How about if we raise some 20ft high wooden frames on 3 sides of the studio and stretch pure white canvas over them. Then the frames can also be used to anchor the white clotheslines on which we would hang the 1000 white shirts using 2000 clothespins.
“I’ll get all this done no problem. You bring the elephant” he said and went off to give me an estimate.
Right, the elephant.
I had to find an elephant, or since this was TV, cast an elephant. Do they have animal actors in Indonesia? Likely not. But a circus maybe or something similar to that? I went to talk to my Unit Manager who said there was a Safari Park that put on shows with elephants for the visiting public. We could go there and see what they have.
“Any other place that we could look into?” I asked.
He pulled out a kretek cigarette and gave me a very long, kind, and polite answer that translated into western culture as “No.”
So I went to see the elephants. The place was up in the volcanic mountains south of Jakarta. I drove there on the wrong (British) side of the road through spectacular green of luxuriant valleys and exquisitely defined geometry of tea plantations. Beautiful.
I had called ahead to introduce myself, our company, the purpose of the project, and the fact this will be on the new national commercial TV. All was well received and so was I on my arrival. I was taken to a seat in the performing outdoor theater. To my surprise I was told not to sit in the front but rather higher up to better appreciate all that was going on. They were so right. The ensemble view allowed to see how the elephants performed together and which one was more likely to best take directions.
That one! I said — once the show was over. Forgot its name but it certainly was not Pongo. I had found myself fully taken in by the majestic animals and most of all by the infectious happiness of the public. Elephant — Brilliant!
So it was done. We had our star. He was magnificent and the most versatile performer of the group. We knew the date, we knew where they would need to bring it, and at what time. We all agreed that being on time would be key, given were limited schedule. Being on time was no problem. They do many performances; they need to be at all sort of official events so they understand schedules. It was all very professional and their paperwork was impeccable. Done deal.
I went back to Jakarta quite happy taking in the surrounding beauty and anticipating the amazing liveliness of a city that truly never slept and that overflows with humanity. The next day I went to the studio to see how Nandy was getting on.
This studio was in the middle of the metropolis but in a large courtyard overrun with banana, papaya and mango trees. Flowers were everywhere any day of the year since there was only one season — summer. Everything grew. The place was a brick structure of about 13000 sq ft of clear floor space with a bamboo lighting grid about 24 ft overhead. It had been built by the state for the domestic film industry but remained unused for quite a while. We managed to lease it on a yearly basis. Coming to the work there was like walking into an oasis. First thing we did is to get the night watchman’s goats out of the studio and have coffee. I preferred Balinese coffee while Nandy loved Sumatra — we usually had his.
The wooden frames were up. Now — a detail — they don’t use pine in Indonesia. It’s not really in abundance there. So Nandy built out of the usual construction lumber — teak. It could have lasted for a century. The set was going beautifully. He also told me he was buying 1238 white shirts. I asked why 1238? He said we needed an additional 200 shirts to replace any that get dirty and to maybe fill out some spaces.
“So what about the 38?” I asked. He handed me a bunch of receipts and looked at me long enough for me to remember we had 38 people on our crew. Right! Good thinking.
The day came. The studio was an impeccable infinity of pure white. The shirts were hanging on rows after rows in a beautiful repetition that echoed the music by Phillip Glass that was playing as the agency and clients walked it. All good — the place was already lit and the Director was working out which shirt was to become the “hero” for Pongo to pick.
All good but Pongo had not shown up yet — well… they still had about 10 minutes to their call time. Rony our PA was going around with coffee and snacks and the camera was getting placed on the crane.
The 10 minutes went by. I felt a pang, because I knew these guys were not late unless something was wrong. My heart started beating faster. I went outside and walked out to the road to maybe see them coming. As if that shortened the time.
Nothing. Another 10 minutes went by. I went back inside and made sure everyone was kept busy in order to avoid the worry of the star being late. By now I was worried. There was no plan B. Did I make a mistake to choose only one elephant? Where was I to find a backup from? Not that I could have offered that as an excuse. Where is that elephant? I went back outside.
I stretched my neck, walked out into traffic, told people that came looking for me that it would be any minute now… Still no elephant. It was now over half hour late. I started avoiding going back into the studio as giving assurances seemed to create more doubt and panic than anything else. I decided to stay outside.
After what seemed an eternity I saw something that looked promising. A pickup truck with a trailer and on the trailer there was something that … looked like an elephant. It looked smaller than I expected but I told myself they were still quite far away. They were coming! Finally!
As they got closer the elephant did not get any bigger. As they drove by and turned into the studio gate, the elephant was only a yard or so away from me. I was speechless. Was this the elephant I cast? Wait, why do I remember it being bigger? Is it me? I looked as they drove towards the studio staring into a fait accompli and thinking how are we going to get out of this one?
I walked after them and they were unloading a lovely elephant. But it was SMALL.
This was not the one we chose at the park.
I said “this is the wrong elephant.” The three trainers were hustling to get Pongo out of the trailer and dust him off. The animal had ridden in an open trailer from the mountains to here. Still he was SMALL!
I said, “this was not the same elephant we chose!” They tried to tell me it was. I was confused. Was I wrong? No! The trainers did the polite Indonesian thing and kind of played deaf continuing to walk and work around me.
I walked to the elephant. I said, “Look! It’s not the same one. This one is too small! Look I’m right next to it. I can lean my elbow on it’s back. Look I’m leaning on it!”
Their shoulders slumped and their heads dropped.
“It’s not the same one is it?” I said.
“No it’s not, we are sorry.”
“Where is the other one? The right one?”
“He … he did not want to come.”
“Who, the elephant?”
“Yes, he did not want to come”
I guess that’s a truly realistic point. What do you do if an elephant is bent on not coming? Maybe he hates to ride. Maybe he got angry. He did not want to come, that’s all.
One of the trainers continued, “But this one is really a good one! He will do everything! Yes he is small but he takes very good directions. We know him. It’s easy for us to work with him.”
I did some quick thinking. Nobody had seen this elephant live. I was the only one at the show. Yes there were pictures but thankfully there were no people standing next to it. Only other elephants? Who could tell?
“We’re going in I said” and we all briskly proceeded inside with the small elephant gently trotting between us while he was announced with conviction “ Here is Pongo!”
Everybody went into action. The director went to talk to the head trainer about what we need to do. The script person was glued to them as the translator since the director did not speak Indonesian and the trainer did not speak English or said he didn’t. The script person was an exceptional script supervisor and prior to this profession used to teach English in the public schools. The camera was being set up for the master shot, Nandy was making sure everything was as white as things can be, Rony made more coffee.
One of the trainers standing next to Pongo slowly approached me and whispered:
“This is a very good elephant. He can do this very well but … there is one thing”
“One thing? What?” I said not knowing what to expect.
“He is very good as I said… but … he won’t work past 5PM” the trainer whispered.
“Really? What do you mean 5PM? What he carries a clock?” I said amused by the idea.
“Well, you’ll see” he said and moved over to Pongo who was swaying slowly from one side to the other. He looked happy, I thought.
We started rolling and things were going well. Pongo was cute, had a great disposition and did really well with the path he needed to follow to the hero shirt, stop, smell it, pause, and gather the shirt with his trunk, walk away. At one point we needed to stop for lunch and Pongo had his lunch also. After lunch we came back for the close-ups and more hand held shots.
Things again were great and everybody was having a day like kids on a field trip to the zoo. No problem with the camera being a couple of feet away from the elephant. Actually no issues at all.
I looked at my watch and it was getting to be past 4:30PM — Hmmmm… what did they mean he won’t work past 5PM? As things were advancing I started keeping an eye on the trainers. At about 15 minutes to 5 they started looking at me. Then giving me signs we should try and wrap it up. As 5PM got really close their gestures became more visible and obvious.
The director came to me to ask “what’s going on?” — I told him “They say the elephant won’t work past 5PM” — “What do you mean?” he asked. “I don’t know, they didn’t say more.” He went back to the clients.
Everybody decided, “We have it. Let’s just do a few more variations for safety.” And I immediately saw the alarm in the eyes of the trainers. I convinced them to just try and go through the motions. We had what was needed and more. This was just a bit of cherry on the cake, theater for the agency and clients. They took a deep breath and just pointed at the watch. It was a little past 5PM.
We went ahead with some options. Pongo was kind of okay at the very beginning but quickly started to be a bit reluctant. The trainers did their best to motivate him but he was not enjoying it anymore… It was only a few minutes past 5PM.
Then it happened! Pongo became an elephant again — Lifted up his trunk and let out a blood curdling trumpeting call. The sound guy ripped off his headphones. He stopped and trumpeted again — almost as a warning — and the trainers backed off. Then our star broke into a run and charged the clothes lines and shirts. He tore it all down. Ripped the lines out of the walls, threw the white shirts in the air and trampled them. We all stood with mouths open, paralyzed. The crew shielded the equipment with their bodies. But it had nothing to do with us it seemed. He was just taking it out on the set. There was nothing left of the 1000 shirts, the studio was a mess. And then the theatrical ending.
The elephant defecated in the middle of the studio. Huge green dung bricks piling up. All of us were watching from one end as if this was a nature show. How can a small elephant shit so much stuff. One more deafening trumpet and then Pongo walked out of the studio.
It was 5:18PM.
WRAP!
One of the shorter and better days of production ever.
