“North Shore Fish” had all the ingredients for a great movie — a gritty frozen fish factory, high school sweethearts rekindling their affair, and a cast stacked with talent. But let’s be honest: the general consensus — and you can find it in reviews online — is that Tony Danza tanked it. I don’t mind saying so myself. Still, working on it was an experience.
It was a comedy at heart, and some of the cast were natural comedians. Tony Danza and Rusty Schwimmer kept everyone laughing between takes. We’d spill outside during setups, summer sun on our faces, listening to stories and cracking up while grips and electrics wrangled cables. Tony enjoyed telling us stories about his friend Sammy Davis Jr.
And then there was the day Tony Danza turned up on his day off. No scenes scheduled. No reason to be there. Yet suddenly he’s swooshing onto set, shirtless, in cut-off denim shorts that defied gravity, rollerblading like he’s auditioning for an ‘80s music video. It was pure Tony — always needing to be the center of attention, always a little over the top.
Mercedes Ruehl, on the other hand, was a completely different vibe, Talented, intense, and… selective about who she’d take direction from. We’d established that her character wore a kerchief on her head in the fish plant scenes, which was later replaced with a hair net sort of cap. Day three rolls around, and she walks on without it. The director tries to explain that he can’t shoot without, no luck. So I step in.
I quietly reminded Mercedes that this wasn’t just a random accessory; it was part of the character, agreed on by wardrobe, producers, and the director. Changing it now would mean reshooting 2 days’ worth of material. She paused, considered, and finally agreed. From that day forward, she only took special direction from me. (Still not sure if I was a hero or just a convenient human shield.)
When the press came to do their behind-the-scenes interviews, Mercedes even talked about me on camera. I still don’t know if it was a sweet gesture or a power move aimed at the director — maybe both. But that’s film sets for you: part circus, part soap opera, part improv comedy.
Looking back, “North Shore Fish” wasn’t just another job. It was a reminder that on any given day, you might be putting out continuity fires, dodging rollerblading TV stars, or becoming the unexpected confidante of an Oscar-winner. All in a day’s work behind the slate.
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