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Chapter 60: Joining the Production
🕑 Added 2025-06-16 16:28:19 +0000 UTC
After wrapping up his B-movie gig, Henry transitioned smoothly into the Under Siege production team—no fanfare, no fuss.
On day one, the first thing he noticed at the assembly point was that uniformed military personnel were handing out non-disclosure agreements to everyone—cast, crew, extras alike.
Naturally, the stars, supporting cast, director, and producers weren’t present. People of higher rank had their own procedures and privileges.
Still, for a big-budget production like this, strict NDAs were par for the course. But this one? It was thick. Like, really thick.
Now, the average Hollywood actor isn’t exactly a scholar. More than a few suffer from reading disorders. Handing them a document this long without legal assistance was borderline cruel.
Some of the newer faces—Henry included—dutifully flipped through the document, frowning and trying to make sense of it.
The seasoned veterans, on the other hand, barely skimmed the contents. A few pages flipped, a shrug, and then scribble scribble—signature done.
One wide-eyed newbie turned to an old hand, stunned.
“Dude, you’re not even reading it? Aren’t you worried something shady’s in there?”
The veteran took a drag off his cigarette and smirked.
“Nah. These movie NDAs are all the same. We don’t get the script, so we’re not leaking plot details. Basically, just don’t snap photos on set or run your mouth to the press.”
He paused to flick ash from his cig.
“This movie looks Navy-themed, so there’s a military-specific clause too. No cameras without clearance, don’t wander off in restricted zones, follow orders when on base—simple stuff. They’ll explain it all when we get there. No point reading the whole damn thing now.”
With a wave of his signed contract, he strolled over to hand it in.
“Hey, man,” he asked the Navy rep, “you guys got a smoking area onboard?”
“The ship’s safety officer’ll let you know where you can light up,” the Navy guy replied casually. “Just don’t toss butts everywhere—we don’t want to make extra work for the crew.”
“Cool, I’m good then.”
With the old-timer paving the way, most of the crowd followed suit. They didn’t bother reading the fine print, just flipped to the last page and signed their names.
Henry didn’t want to stand out either. But just to be safe, he activated his super-reading and scanned the entire document in a flash. Took no longer than anyone else.
Thanks to the law books he’d read at the public library, Henry now had a pretty solid grasp of American contract law. The NDA was boilerplate, nothing underhanded, so he signed it: Henry Brown.
By the way, since tax season was looming (April 15), Henry had already studied the relevant tax codes and filed his own returns. With his Kryptonian brain, it was a breeze.
At this point, the only difference between him and a licensed accountant or attorney was the paperwork. U.S. law didn’t let you take certification exams without a proper degree. Maybe someday he’d enroll in a correspondence course just to collect a few credentials.
Once the NDA portion was handled, a second assistant director arrived and handed out schedule packets.
“Everything you need to know is in there,” he explained.
“Here’s the key part: We’ll be spending some time filming at the San Diego Naval Base. You’ll be housed in a local hotel during that stretch—covered by the production.
“If you’ve got a second job or side gigs, you’d better get time off now. I don’t care how you get to and from LA, but if you cause delays, be prepared to pay breach-of-contract penalties.
“This isn’t a normal set. The military won’t just ‘give us a little more time’ because someone didn’t show up. Screw this up, and you’ll be on the hook for damages you can’t afford in ten lifetimes. Got it?”
A few of the more eager newbies replied quickly:
“Yes, sir!”
The first day wasn’t a trip to San Diego just yet. Everyone stayed at the Warner Bros. lot for wardrobe and camera tests.
Naturally, the main cast had it rough. They needed multiple outfits for various scenes—even duplicates of the same uniform for continuity. The director was already shaping the film’s tone during these early sessions.
Extras like Henry had it simpler, but don’t underestimate background roles.
Even if they had no lines, no names, and no written backstory, the script still specified exactly how many people needed to be in each scene and what kind of roles they were filling—military, civilian, hostage, or bad guy.
In a film like this, there was a clear divide: those waiting for the hero to save them and those trying to stop him.
Most productions kept background actors compartmentalized. You wouldn’t want the same guy playing a good guy’s sidekick in one scene and then showing up as a villain getting punched in the next. Even if most viewers wouldn’t notice, some obsessive fans would—especially those who frame-by-frame movies looking for Easter eggs or bloopers.
And let’s face it: pointing out goofs online was becoming its own sport.
To avoid embarrassment (and Reddit threads decades in the future), studios preferred to use the same extras throughout, altering their appearance with makeup or costume changes.
Henry was surprised to be handed a submarine crew uniform—a role typically reserved for members of the villain team, and often filled by stunt professionals due to potential fight scenes.
He wasn’t part of a stunt team. Just a solo freelancer.
Which made the look the props guy gave him all the more awkward—like a mix of pity and confusion. Henry half-expected someone to pop in with a clipboard and ask if he’d washed his rear end in preparation.
Fortunately, that didn’t happen.
And just like that, the hidden Kryptonian in Hollywood officially became part of the Under Siege production crew.
Comments
Isaac Roldan
Bruh, just thought about Henry just popping off in iconic movies having fun like Terry crews in white chick's. The range of being an enforcer to a out of pocket character in movies just sounds like a fun time. (The scene with the Russian in punisher comes to mind too)
