The day after Matthew took Karolina Kurkova out for a sun-soaked adventure in the desert, the crew had to revise their shooting schedule. They postponed some of the red-haired lady's scenes and moved forward with filming the fight between Duke and Colonel Bludd because Karolina Kurkova had suffered from heatstroke.
During a break in filming, Stephen Sommers approached Matthew to talk about colds and heatstroke.
"Matthew, we've been friends for years and have collaborated many times."
Things were different now, and Stephen Sommers was quite courteous. "You're one of the most dedicated actors I've ever worked with."
Sitting under a large sunshade, Matthew took a sip of water and looked at Stephen Sommers with a smile. "Stephen, just say what's on your mind. No need for formalities between us."
Stephen Sommers hesitated before diplomatically saying, "This movie is scheduled to be released on Independence Day next year, and it's already December. Although post-production is ongoing, time is really tight. A delay of even a few days could lead to a series of schedule changes."
Hearing this, Matthew immediately understood what Stephen Sommers was implying.
During the Iceland shoot, he had inadvertently caused Sienna Miller to catch a cold, which spread through the crew, leading to many people, including himself, getting sick. Now, during the Sonoran Desert shoot, with Sienna Miller absent, Karolina Kurkova had suffered heatstroke because of him.
If he were the director, he'd probably have some complaints too.
Even though it wasn't intentional, it had happened. Matthew nodded and said earnestly, "Stephen, there won't be a next time."
Making a supermodel jump around on scorching sand under the midday sun was fine once, but not again.
Stephen Sommers, having received the assurance he wanted, smiled at Matthew and returned to his director's monitor to continue preparations.
Matthew glanced north towards the shooting location and could still see the crew's base camp. Because of yesterday's overly intense "game," Karolina Kurkova had suffered heatstroke, so as the instigator, he wondered if he should do something to make up for it.
Of course, a million-dollar compensation wasn't an option, as their arrangement was based on mutual agreement of effort and reward.
He quickly thought of the essential items for shooting in hot areas—cooling oil and balm. He decided to bring some to Karolina Kurkova after the crew wrapped up for the day.
As he retracted his gaze, Matthew noticed a group of fans gathered around the outskirts of the set, watching the filming. He turned to his assistant and said, "Have someone bring some water to those fans, and let them know it's from me."
The assistant quickly replied, "I'll take care of it right away."
Matthew nodded slightly and looked at the fans again. There weren't many of them, just about thirty, mostly young people in their twenties.
Chasing stars all the way to the desert—these were definitely his fans, and hardcore ones at that.
Matthew never missed an opportunity to show appreciation to his fans. In this scorching desert, nothing could be more refreshing than a cool drink of water.
His large fanbase wasn't just due to outstanding work; it was also the result of careful management.
A seemingly small gesture often made fans excited enough to lose sleep.
The crew finished their adjustments, and filming quickly resumed.
In front of the camera, Matthew and Jason Statham stood on the golden sand, their faces as hard as stone, muscles showing through the torn military uniforms.
"Colonel Bludd!" Matthew's voice was ice-cold. "You betrayed my team!"
Jason Statham's face remained expressionless, as usual, and he let out a raspy chuckle. "Now you can join your men."
As he spoke, he tore off his military uniform, revealing a black tank top underneath, then pulled out a knife from behind and assumed a close-combat stance.
Matthew also removed his military uniform, tossing it onto the sand behind him, while his hand reached for his waist.
"I caught up with you to make sure you understand…" Matthew's hand suddenly pointed forward, "why you're going to die!"
Bang—bang—
Gunshots rang out, and Jason Statham clutched his chest, looking at Matthew in disbelief. "You… you used a gun!"
Matthew held a black pistol, its barrel aimed directly at Jason Statham's chest.
Jason Statham collapsed, lifeless, onto the desert sand.
Matthew holstered his gun and turned to walk down the sand dune.
"Cut!" Stephen Sommers's voice rang out. "That's a wrap for this take."
Hearing the call, Matthew turned back, reached out, and helped Jason Statham up. Jason brushed the sand off himself and said, "It's getting hot. If the director hadn't called it, I would've jumped up myself."
Matthew joked, "I've still got bullets in my gun…"
Meanwhile, Stephen Sommers picked up a megaphone and announced, "Everyone, reset! We'll resume filming in ten minutes."
Matthew returned to the resting area, where the makeup artist quickly came over to wipe his sweat and touch up his makeup.
In such hot weather, even with only a thin layer of foundation, actors couldn't just wipe away the sweat.
The next scene was still a one-on-one fight between him and Jason Statham, but the approach would be entirely different. Duke had just resolved things quickly with a firearm, but the next scene would involve a close-quarters fight.
Stephen Sommers had designed two different approaches for this scene and hadn't decided which to use. So, he opted to shoot both and decide during post-production based on how they fit the overall storyline.
Filming close-quarters combat wasn't as simple as before. An action scene was broken down into dozens of shots, with the longest being just four or five seconds. Most shots involved Matthew and Jason Statham each performing a single move before the take was declared done.
Excluding the midday break to avoid the sun, this scene took the entire day, from morning until evening, to reach the final stage.
"Action!"
At Stephen Sommers's command, the filming began again.
Matthew's camouflage vest had long since turned into rags, which he casually tore off and threw aside, revealing his perfectly sculpted muscles. Jason Statham, shirtless, also displayed an impressive physique.
Both men's faces were marked with injuries, though Jason Statham's was worse—his face was twisted, and blood was slowly oozing from a cut above his brow.
The fight had reached its final moments, and their knives were long gone, lost somewhere in the sand.
As blood from Jason Statham's brow trickled past his eye, causing him to squint involuntarily, Matthew pounced like a leopard, crashing into Jason Statham like a tank. He grabbed Jason by the waist and slammed him onto a green mat laid on the ground.
Matthew pinned Jason Statham's throat with one hand and clenched his other hand into a fist, repeatedly punching the mat beside Jason's face.
"This is for John…"
"And this is for Djokovic…"
He muttered with each punch, as if avenging his fallen comrades.
Finally, Stephen Sommers's voice came through, "Good! That's a wrap! We're done for the day!"
Matthew released his fist, took a deep breath, and stood up before helping Jason Statham to his feet.
Jason glanced back at the mat, where the spot next to his head had a visible dent from Matthew's punches—a somewhat shocking sight.
For the sake of the shot, Matthew had used nearly 80% of his strength.
In this scene, Duke was filled with rage, so his punches couldn't be anything but powerful.
"If you had missed by even a little," Jason Statham said, rubbing his face, still a bit shaken, "I would've been disfigured."
Matthew chuckled, thinking to himself that at worst, he'd just look more like Gerd Dā.
He patted Jason Statham's arm and said, "To soothe your wounded spirit, I'll treat you to some cold beer tonight."
Jason Statham immediately smiled, "It's a deal."
While the crew was still packing up, Matthew left first, heading to his makeup trailer to remove his makeup, shower, and change clothes. With a group of bodyguards, he took an off-road vehicle back to the crew's base camp. He instructed the temporary catering team to prepare some cold beer for the evening, then returned to his trailer to find a few boxes of cooling oil and balm, intending to deliver them to Karolina Kurkova personally.
The crew members were staying in trailers, with separate areas for men and women on opposite sides of the camp, several hundred feet apart.
Matthew changed into lighter clothes, put on a sunhat, and left his trailer. Brown Williams and a few bodyguards were already waiting at the door.
The sun was nearing the horizon, and the weather had cooled considerably. Carrying a paper bag with the cooling oil and balm, Matthew headed towards Karolina Kurkova's trailer.
He hadn't walked far when Brown Williams suddenly moved closer and whispered, "There's something behind us."
Matthew, with his strong nerves, didn't look back. Brown Williams continued in a low voice, "Someone's following us. I just checked—they don't seem to be part of the crew."
At the same moment Brown Williams approached, two of the bodyguards behind Matthew had moved closer, using their large frames to completely shield him.
Brown Williams added, "When we pass the next trailer, turn left and go behind it to lose the stalker's sight."
Matthew nodded slightly, fully trusting Brown Williams in these matters. He was a seasoned veteran who had survived countless battles and counterterrorism operations.
"Chris, Ronald, Blatt, Bernardo,
Beasley, protect Matthew!" Brown Williams ordered. "John, you come with me—we'll circle around and catch that guy."
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