"Leap of Faith", was Re: Clouds of "Monarchs"

John Fleckenstein john.fleckenstein at wadnr.gov
Fri Feb 8 11:20:27 EST 2002


So where's Debra Winger in all this?  I've been looking for an in with her for years.  I'll never find a bunch of monarchs in this part of the country.  But maybe if I catch a bunch of sheep moths and give her a call???

wistful in Olympia
John


>>> "Chris J. Durden" <drdn at mail.utexas.edu> 07-Feb-02 10:39 AM >>>
Nature faking? For heavens sake this was just a piece of fiction, like many 
other good stories.
    I as the person responsible for co-ordinating the capture, sustenance 
and release of the butterflies, in the same county in which they were 
captured, have some comments on how this came to be.
    In 1991 a call from the Texas Film Commission requested information on 
"when was the best time for butterflies in the area around Amarillo". 
Having found that, in Texas, butterfly diversity and abundance is closely 
correlated with the average rainfall peaks, even in dry regions, I 
consulted the published 1931-1970 records and determined that for Amarillo 
and adjacent Caprock Country the prime time should be late July.
    In 1992 I was asked to set up a mass release of butterflies for a scene 
in a movie to be shot for Paramount Pictures in the vicinity of Amarillo in 
July. Having had some experience with the stocking from the wild, of 
temporary exhibit tents, I accepted the challenge. I recruited friends and 
relatives to work on the project. Our dealings with the production company 
were through a professional animal handler (famous for his "tortoise" which 
appears in this movie and a number of others). Thorough negotiation I 
obtained a hansom hourly wage for my assistants (students, instructors, 
several PhD's), which ensured their loyalty and dedication far beyond the 
call of duty, later in the project when we were hit by adversity.
    We were flown into Tulia where we were located in a motel where the 
advance party had set up net tents to house freshly collected butterflies. 
The butterflies were dying. Questions produced a history of insecticide use 
at the motel. Net tents were relocated to the county park (where the scene 
was shot). No more problem with butterfly death.
    Conference with the location manager and art director produced the 
information that the butterflies were supposed to rise en-mass out of the 
grass when hands were clapped. I had heard of nothing like this but, fine, 
a quaint device of fiction for entertainment - no problem. Years later I 
find out on this list that there is actually a phenomenon where in Rhodes 
in a particular valley, "butterflies" (tiger moths) do rise out of the 
grass when the hands are clapped, and this is a featured attraction on some 
tours.
    The butterflies were supposed to be monarchs! I suppose the concepts of 
the moths on Rhodes and the winter congregation of Monarchs in Mexico were 
confused in the mind of the script writer.
Impossible, so it was agreed to use a medly of larger species.
    We stocked the net tents with an estimated 4,000 butterflies taken by 
net and bated trap in the area, and were eagerly awaiting the shot to be 
filmed the following morning. We retired to the local restaurant for 
steaks. As we emerged from the restaurant at dusk we saw the county 
mosquito control truck trundle by. We guessed just where it was headed - 
the golf course adjacent to our stock tents. A call to the sheriff headed 
them off and we retired for the evening. About 11:30 a call from our 
watchman at the park alerted us to heavy winds and rain. A thunder storm 
was destroying our stock tents and blowing away the butterflies.
    My crew rushed out to the park where we unbent poles and salvaged an 
un-torn tent to house the stock we were retrieving by the handfulls from 
their refuge between the tussock grasses. We worked much of the night. In 
the morning we had about 2000 butterflies that had not escaped.
    Special effects had constructed a funnel net, a little larger than the 
scene, with the end open, but closable by dropping a chain weighted net. We 
intended to recapture as much stock as possible for the expected retakes.
    Cameras roll! The set is dead quiet and everyone seems to have a camera 
or video camera in hand (forbidden on the set, as Paramount owns 
everything). Nothing for a moment! The butterflies just sit in the boxes 
under the end of the stage. My crew members toss them in the air and the 
flock rises out over the field of sunflowers. The scene is complete, "Cut!" 
and the net falls over the end of the funnel. Dead quiet for the longest 
time. Then the whole crew bursts out with applause. No retake needed. A few 
of the larger butterflies were retained for close shots later. These were 
chilled for handling. Then everything was released. My crew had a wonderful 
time. I earned two more fieldtrips to Rondonia, some books, cabinets and 
taxes, and the memories of three weeks of vacation when I ran off with the 
circus.
    Sure the idea is hokey, but if it stimulates a few more people to 
notice butterflies, it was worth it.
.................Chris Durden

At 11:57 PM 2/6/2002 -0500, you wrote:
>The recent talk of "clouds" of butterflies reminded me of a movie I saw
>recently---
>
>LEAP OF FAITH (1992) in which the local sheriff (Liam Neeson) seduces an
>evangelist conspirator (Debra Winger)
>away from the road show (led by Steve Martin).
>
>He invites her out to his ranch, claps his hands, and she is fascinated
>by the
>large numbers of fake butterflies

No - all real and live.

>  that rise from the grass at his hand
>clap.
>He calls them Monarchs, but the closeups show Tiger Swallowtailoid
>creatures.

*P. muticaudatus* - our Tigers are larger than the little ones you have in 
New Jersey.


>But the butterflies apparently convince her that she is better off with
>the
>sheriff.   There must be a message in all that nature-faking.

This just shows how sight records cannot always be relied upon! Context 
often biases the observer and the observations suffer. Who would expect 
such a rich fauna in the middle of the Great Plains, but everything was local.


>Mike Gochfeld
>
>
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