Saints Film in 2009

From today's Variety:

Voodoo Pictures has acquired rights to Alan Donnes’ football tome "Patron Saints: How the Saints Gave New Orleans a Reason to Believe."

Michael Arata and Jerry Daigle are producing. Production’s aimed for next year in New Orleans.

The book, published last year, details the NFL team’s 2006 season after the city was devastated by Hurricane Katrina. The Saints, which had posted a 3-13 record during the previous season, went 10-6 and managed to advance into the conference championship game.

Voodoo Pictures is prepping in New Orleans for its upcoming co-production of "Night of the Demons" for Seven Arts Pictures as well as "Bat Out of Hell" with Parallel Zide.

From a piece by Angus Lind:

This would not be the first movie about the Saints:

His passing rekindled memories not only of his major films, but also of a minor one that was filmed in New Orleans in 1969.

Here, Heston was not wearing a toga. He was decked out in black and gold and wearing No. 17, the jersey of Saints quarterback Billy Kilmer, and standing on the turf at old Tulane Stadium.

It was the filming of "Number One," originally named "Pro," a movie that didn't live up to either of those titles.

"I remember meeting him when he stepped off the plane at Moisant (Airport) when he arrived," said former WTIX "Oldie King" Bob Walker. "My first impression was how skinny he was. Tall, elegant, but skinny."

Walker, like me, was an extra in "Number One," playing part of a "crowd" in the stands, which was actually a bunch of extras herded together in one section to give the appearance of a full stadium.

Looking about as much like a pro quarterback as country singer Lyle Lovett, the mis-cast Heston played Ron "Cat" Catlan, an aging quarterback who had -- get this -- led the New Orleans Saints to a Super Bowl victory a couple of years before.

This was all very amusing as the Saints had only been in the NFL a couple of years and the only thing super about John Mecom's Saints were the halftime shows, the Newcomb coeds sunning themselves on top of neighboring campus dormitories and the beer vendors.

"I marveled at how skinny he was in a Saints uniform," Walker said. "It hung on him like a cheap suit three sizes too big."

As a quarterback, even a quarterback-actor, Heston would have been benched, had he not had the leading role.

"When the cameras weren't rolling we watched him try to throw some passes," Walker said. "His receiver was 10-20 yards away and his alleged passes didn't come close.

"Every pass he threw was a fluttering dead duck that went high, low or very wide. He did not complete a single throw."

Joe Wendryhoski, the Saints center at the time who was also in the movie, was a little blunter.

"Heston was a great guy, very sociable, but he didn't have an athletic bone in his body," he said. "As a quarterback, he left a lot to be desired."

Heston was schooled by Kilmer himself, the master of the wounded-duck passes. But Kilmer's fluttering balls were accurate, and he threw the passes for Heston in the movie.

According to the script, Catlan was an over-the-hill QB who didn't know when it was time to leave the game behind. He yearned for one more opportunity to get to the big game, but his legs and body said otherwise. Booed unmercifully, he still soldiered on, somehow getting it done.

Neither the plot nor the ending is important -- which says a lot about the movie -- but in the final scene, Heston is supposed to be lying on the field, dazed, after being crushed by the defense, which in this case was the "Dallas Cowboys." In reality it was Mike Tilleman, Dave Rowe and Fred Whittingham of the Saints, wearing Cowboy blue and silver.

Neither the producer nor Heston thought the "hit" on Heston looked realistic; they thought the linemen had eased off when they hit him, according to Wendryhoski. Heston then directed oversized defensive tackles Rowe and Tilleman and linebacker Whittingham (a former Golden Gloves boxing champion) to cut loose on him and make it authentic.

Authentic it was. Saints guards Jake Kupp and Del Williams just let the Dallas defense roll on in and smother Heston, slamming him to the ground. There was no need for another take. They had broken three of Heston's ribs, and it was a wrap.

"Number One" was so substandard it was never even released on video or DVD. But its star -- as an actor and a person -- certainly lived up to the title.