NIGHTMARE BY DESIGN
From Hollywood Reporter -- International Edition,
vol 361 n 49, 02.29.2000
Inside production designer Rick Heinrichs' spooky
settings for Sleepy Hollow
An ominous windmill lurks in the shadows of Sleepy
Hollow and eventually becomes the backdrop for the
film's climactic good vs. evil sequence in which the Headless
Horseman confronts Ichabod, Katrina and Young Masbath. In a
sense, the scene showcases every aspect of the film's production
design. "One of the things we were trying to do,"
explains production designer Rick Heinrichs, "was inspire
a sense of scary portentousness in the village. I think it's
different from Irving's Sleepy Hollow, which is described as
a dozing Dutch farm community. If our Sleepy Hollow is asleep,
it's a fitful sort of sleep, with nightmares."
While the windmill is more fantasy than reality
-- with its "pure Burton Batwing" sails -- Heinrichs
considers the image a metaphor for the town's restless spirits.
"It's a derelict windmill until Ichabod releases the lever
and the sails begin to turn. It's as if it's being brought back
to life. There's a 'living dead' vibe going on."
Heinrichs, who has known director Tim Burton for 20 years since
their days at Disney's animation studio, had hoped to build
the windmill as a single practical structure that could supply
both interior and exterior settings. But safety concerns and
the desire to maintain a controlled theatrical environment made
Heinrichs decide on a combination of several interior and exterior
sets, full-scale and miniature. He built a 60-foot-tall forced-perspective
exterior (visible to highway travelers miles away), a base and
rooftop set and a quarter-scale miniature. The interior of the
mill, which was about 30-feet high and 25-feet wide, featured
wooden gears equipped with mechanisms for grinding flour.
A wider view of the windmill was rendered on a Leavesden soundstage
set with a quarter-scale windmill, complete with rotating vanes,
painted sky backdrop and special-effects fire.
"It was scary for the actors who were having burning wood
explode at them," Heinrichs recalls. "There were controls
in place and people standing by with hoses, of course, but there's
always a chance of something going wrong."
For a final shot of the burning mill exploding, the quarter-scale
windmill and painted backdrop were erected against the outside
wall of the "flight shed," a spacious hangar on the
far side of Leavesden Studios. "The special-effects crew
would set the vanes on fire and put the flames out after each
take. They have a way of sealing things and applying the flammable
material on top, although, after the course of several nights,
it does do a number on the structure. For scheduling reasons,
we shot the postexplosion first, so I was delighted that the
blades fell where we wanted. Cables were used to try to make
them land correctly, but it really comes down to luck."
The flight shed interior served as the staging ground for a
heart-stopping chase sequence, with Ichabod, Katrina and Young
Masbath escaping the windmill conflagration in a horse-drawn
coach, riding into the depths of the Western Woods with the
Headless Horseman in hot pursuit. The hangar's interior walls
were knocked down to create a 450-foot run, with a 40-foot width
still allowing for coach and cameras. Heinrichs tailored the
sets so cinematographer Emmanuel Lubezki could shoot from above
without seeing the end of the stage. "They'd start the
horses at one end, and by the time they gathered full speed,
they had to slow down so they wouldn't smash into the wall.
They were able to photograph only about six seconds worth of
film at a time. Had we tried to do the coach chase outdoors,
it could have been disastrous because of weather and the sheer
size of what Lubezki would have had to light. So we just repeated
the action over and over along the length of our interior forest
set. After being edited, the sequence read as if they'd traveled
two miles."
The film's strong design element necessitated that nearly everything
be built from scratch. "One of the great accomplishments
for us was building a functioning hydraulically powered windmill
with carved wooden gears," says Heinrichs. "Special
effects worried that the teeth would grind down and break off.
They wanted to use multigears running on separate motors. I
thought, 'Windmills have been used for hundreds of years; it's
got to work.' It was magnificent to see.
"There's a theatrical truth to the set that I know the
actors really appreciated," continues Heinrichs, who used
a combination of real materials, painted backings and old-fashioned
perspective techniques to create what he calls "stylized
naturalism."
"(Actor) Ian McDiarmid had just finished
working on Phantom Menace, and he was so delighted
not to be working on a blue-screen stage. There was mood, atmosphere
and actual quality the actors could play off of and react to.
It's as close to old Hollywood as you can get."