On Wellington’s Miramar Peninsula, David Whitley discovers how sci-fi and fantasy films are brought to life at the Weta Workshop.
Brandishing the sword of Elrond, Nat walks over to a very utilitarian looking laser gun. “It needed to look fairly utilitarian – so we looked more at Black and Decker sanders, that sort of thing.”
The gun is the “hero weapon” – the one shown in close ups – from District 9, the 2009 South African sci-fi thriller. It’s passed around the group so everyone can feel how heavy it is. It needs to be weighty so that the actor’s muscle tension is right while carrying it. However, numerous other versions are made with lighter weight materials for the stunt performers.
You don’t just rustle up laser guns in a few hours, it seems. The conceptual designers have to make them right for the world the film is set in, the industrial designers have to generate 3D models from 2D drawings and the painters have to dip into their recipe booklet to add things like alien blood and fake rust. Even the scratches and chipped paint have to be planned to a meticulous blueprint – they have to be the same on each weapon or the audience starts noticing the continuity errors.
The Miramar Peninsula on the outskirts of Wellington is an unlikely place for an insight into the megabucks world of Hollywood movie-making. But the largely residential suburb of New Zealand’s capital, Wellington, is home to the Weta Workshop – which has made props and costumes for the likes of King Kong, Avatar and The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe. Oh, and some little arthouse flicks based on Tolkien books that were apparently quite popular.
Weta is something of an Oscar factory when it comes to the technical detail that makes movie worlds seem real, and the people who work there lead tours around the magic factory when they’re not making sure scabbards look suitably Elvish.
The walls are taken over with vicious weapons, whilst cabinets are full of fake skulls and body parts. Through windows, it’s possible to see the machines that some of the bigger props are made on and peer into the armoury. Weta employs a swordsmith who forges swords the traditional way when they need that look of authenticity – although they use other techniques for sci-fi flicks where imagination rather than realism counts.
Rather unmissable opposite the armoury is Sauron’s costume from the Lord of the Rings films. It’s a fearsome concoction of savage spikes that, apparently, breaks all the laws of design. “They say form should always follow function,” says Nat. “And there’s no way anyone could fight in that. Function is less important than looking awesome in a movie.”
She flicks one of the spikes on Sauron’s shoulder, and it moves backwards with rubbery willing. It may look like vicious armour, but it’s all soft – nobody wants actors to impale themselves or damage their hands on cheese-grater like gloves during a fight scene.