“I have observed that in most species there is a primal instinct to perpetuate themselves. Until now I have been the last of my kind. If I would be damaged or destroyed, I will be lost forever. But if I am successful with the creation of Lal, my continuance is assured. I understand the risk, sir. And I am prepared to accept the responsibility.“
- – Data
The Next Generation makeup lab was a hole in the wall. It wasn’t even in the wall. It was a shack cobbled together on the stage behind 8 and 9. You know that footage of Persis Khambatta getting her raven locks shorn by Fred Phillips for TMP? That’s the shack… and I loved it. Who would ever guess? Big TV production… the makeup lab would have to be in a flashy setup on the Paramount lot… wouldn’t it? Nope… makeup artists are an interesting breed. Life is a cross between the army, and the circus. You go where the job is, and you set up your camp… wherever that may be. I’ve made people up using the toilet as a makeup chair and with light coming from a single unshaded bulb. I’ve made actors up in the middle of the woods, in a speeding car, in an airplane, a swamp, and a kitchen… so making molds, sculpting, and running foam latex in a shack could be seen as a step up in some cases. You got out, and you got under, and if there are no amenities… like electricity, you made electricity… no water? You brought it with you. You learned to be self contained and self sufficient. You thought ahead and you thought on your feet. A Shack? I love it!
Mike and Jerry! We had a lot of fun! Look how Mike is wearing a small smile. That’s his makeup face. I’ve never seen him lose his cool. Not once not ever. That’s Jerry on the right. I still have to tell you about when Jerry, as a makeup infatuated kid, accidentally stole the face off of Abraham Lincoln at Disneyland. You don’t know what it’s like to have hot mouse breath on your neck.
Mike Westmore, Jerry Quist, and I laughed a lot. All three of us tended toward the boisterous, all while making aliens happen. We’d scream and laugh, and even sing songs. This could be a problem, as our “Dogpatch” style shack was on a soundstage. Someone else’s soundstage. Not even Star Trek. Before I knew what “Wayne’s World” was, we were interrupting Garth and Wayne trying to get the shot. The “Wayne’s World” soundguy had a wig-wag light put on our makeup lab work bench. It helped a little, but not being allowed to laugh makes laughing more uncontrollable.
Word came down through Mike that an impending script had Data build his own progeny. It was called “The Offspring“. The idea was that it would start life as an androgynous mannequin. It would be golden and featureless, akin to a giant Academy Award. The face and pectoral adornment seemed straight forward. The question was the approach to erasing the actor’s naughty bits. The first thought was a foam latex pair of skin tight shorts which would be blended into the actors skin. I thought that it was important to maintain the musculature structure of the buttocks and the anatomy of the lower abdomen. A foam pair of shorts would effectively erase that. Since I had an opinion, it became my task, that along with the overall application of the head to toe makeup.
Mike sculpted Lal’s face and robo pecs. What a funny little face! Oddly sweet! I snapped these shots outside between the soundstages.
Ultimately we would create a sort of foam G-string that would just barely cover the genitalia and fill in the butt-crack (Yes I get paid to do this!). Undoubtedly it would be easiest if casting would provide us with a woman with little or no breasts. No such luck in that respect. We ended up with Leonard Crofoot, who had an ample unit needing to be bound. The poor guy. Once glued in, there was no peein’ nor makin’ any doody! No way, no how! Remember that since I would be putting the makeup on all by my lonesome, the application would take about five hours, add to that a fifteen hour shooting day! You heard me, skippy! No facilities for about twenty hours!
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