The Theatrical Firearms Handbook

Kevin Inouye

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2014
• ISBN:
  9781317859819
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Media & Performing Arts
• Subtopic: Acting & Auditioning

The Theatrical Firearms Handbook is the essential guide to navigating the many decisions that are involved in the safe and effective use of firearm props for both the stage and screen.

This book establishes baseline safety protocol while empowering performers and designers to tell their story of conflict in a way that makes the most of both established convention and current tools of the trade. Within these pages are practical instruction couched in the language of theatre and film, making firearms technology and concepts approachable to dramatic artists without any dumbing-down of the subject material. It contains over 100 illustrations

This handbook is equally at home within the worlds of academic training, professional performance, and independent or community theatre and video productions, and is an invaluable resource for fight choreographers, props designers, backstage crew, directors, actors, stage managers, and more, at all levels of experience.

CHAPTER 1

Basic Firearms 101

As swift as pellet out of gone

Whan fyre is in the poudre ronne

And swiche a smoke gan out-wende …

And hit stank as the pit of helle …

—Geoffrey Chaucer, “House of Fame,” 1380

The very definition of a gun has changed throughout history, and continues to fluctuate depending on the context of the discussion. In the United States, the federal Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms (BATF or ATF) has a very specific working definition of firearm—as they must—and it is one that we need to know in order to protect ourselves from litigation or arrest. Despite the “What’s in a name?” proclivities of theatre artists, in issues of technical or legal definition precision is key. For the BATF, a firearm is actually a specific part of what most of us would call a gun: the receiver, or sometimes just the lower receiver. This is the part that is legally controlled most tightly on a federal level, and that cannot ever be legally classified as anything other than a firearm in the United States, regardless of how you may take it apart, weld it shut, or otherwise modify it. The BATF definition is about manufacture and use, both original intended use and applied use of the whole or key parts. In one extreme 2004 case, a 14” shoelace was declared an illegal machine gun when it was used to make a legal semi-automatic rifle into one that could fire on fully-automatic. Sometimes the distinction between a non-gun/ dummy and a “firearm” (the receiver) is just a matter of drilling a few holes in a piece of bent steel sheet-metal (with the AK series rifles). Any specific definition will inevitably result in some fairly arbitrary distinctions somewhere in the field.

On the other hand, if you go to the armory at Colonial Williamsburg in Virginia, the very one raided by the British in their attempt to disarm colonials prior to the Revolutionary War, you will encounter a different set of terms. Walk up the spiral stairs and you find yourself in an airy round chamber whose walls are lined with firearms; muskets, pistols, carbines, rifles and more (plus some lovely swords, pikes, and other weapons). Ask the informative historical interpreter who minds the space how many guns they have there (as many tourists can be heard doing), and he’ll say “One.” The rest, to his best understanding of period terminology, are muskets (smooth bore military long arms), rifles (civilian hunting long arms with rifled barrels) or pistols. For what it’s worth, his definition differs slightly from that of the gunsmith down the street, who uses gun as a catch-all term but acknowledges that for some it would be assumed to mean the smooth-bore civilian shotgun of the time, which might also be called a fowling-piece. Even without resorting to slang, there are a great many names that have been used in any given society for their weaponry, and firearms are no exception.

This is part of why I use the term firearm rather than gun, despite the latter being more a part of our common vernacular these days, although even this definition excludes some items that may be functionally very similar, such as air guns, fictional (or real but experimental) laser weapons, rail guns, and more. The rifle Lewis and Clark took on their expedition into the unexplored (by Europeans, anyway) wilds of America was actually a highly effective Girandoni Air Rifle (a gun, but not a firearm), as it gave them more rapid shots than the conventional firearms of the day, and without concern for sources of gunpowder or problems of humidity on their journey.

For the most part, though, what we discuss here are handheld weapons that utilize the rapid, explosive expansion of gunpowder to propel a projectile (or multiple projectiles) at high rates of speed towards a specific target. This rules out lasers, bombs, and other ranged weapons whose tactical use and design concepts might overlap some, but it gives us a more manageable focus. Some would advocate referring to a firearm as a tool rather than a weapon, as that allows for the other uses of firearms (hunting, sport, collecting, etc.) and makes it sound less like something you need to regulate. It is a tool, in that it is just a mechanical device. To some playwrights it is certainly the deus ex machina, akin to Medea’s fantastical dragon, able to resolve plot complications as fast as a speeding bullet, and I find for the audience and the actors it needs to remain just a device; keep the power in the characters, not the prop. So call it a tool if it helps in the moment, but for our discussion involving dramatic storytelling, it is an instrument of violence used in armed conflict or to hurt others; it is a member of that sub-set of tools known as a weapon. The term theatrical firearm may be a bit too officious to ever enter common usage, but it is rapidly becoming the accepted proper label, if only because it has been adopted by the Actors’ Equity Association (AEA, the professional union for stage performers).

It is important that we, as storytellers involved in the portrayal of armed conflict, are able have an agreed-upon definition of firearm. This is in part so that we can articulate the ways in which what we typically use are NOT actual firearms, when called upon to do so by school administrators, insurance companies, locations managers, police officers, or others concerned with the safety and legality of our actions. That is part of why I prefer the term firearm in our line of work, as technically some of the props that I use could be considered guns (like airsoft guns), and I’d rather tell a school administrator “None of these are actual firearms” than “Some of these are guns, yeah, but not like bullet-shooting guns.” The general definition of gun is simply a weapon designed to fire a projectile, by any means; I can readily argue that neither blank-firing props or airsoft guns are firearms, but would have to concede that the later was indeed designed as a gun, and that term doesn’t reassure the safety- or liability-conscious. “Guns” could include Nerf guns, water pistols, air guns, paintball guns, crossbows, slingshots, spear guns, or even a straw used to shoot spit-wads. While none of these are inherently weapons, that is a term defined more by use than design—especially in legal terms, where it is important to be able to charge someone with assault with a deadly weapon when they use a hammer, while at the same time not having to regulate all hammers as being deadly weapons. So yes, I could hit someone with a cheap plastic foam-dart toy and be accused of assaulting someone with a gun, technically. Semantics make a difference, especially in court or insurance reports.

Figure 1.1 The Governor’s Palace at Colonial Williamsburg; Best. Wallpaper. Ever.

For the record, what we will be using in theatre is best just referred to as a prop (originally an abbreviation for “theatrical property”). It may or may not be a gun, or a firearm, or both, or neither, but for our use it is a prop, and not a weapon. To distinguish them from the fans, snuff-boxes, telephones, rubber chickens, or other props involved, I use the term theatrical firearm prop when I want to be especially correct about the term for the item itself. I consider the term theatrical firearms to designate the field that includes their handling, staging, and use as well as props issues.

HISTORY

In the beginning, fire created light. Then man discovered that it also created heat and pressure, and when put in an enclosed space with only one exit, the ensuing pressure could propel things in that direction. This basic principle now drives everything from our internal combustion engine cars to espresso machines. It also became the driving force in shaping warfare over the last few centuries.

While firearms (along with fireworks and gunpowder in general) originated in China, we’ll be focusing mostly on European and American innovations, as that’s where gunpowder really came into its own as a facilitator of efficient death and destruction. Given that this book is written in English, the vast majority of plays and movies you the reader will likely be working on are going to be set in places either within those borders or armed with weapons designed there. That said, if your production of Mulan actually gets to build and fire replicas of the ancient Chinese fire-lance, you have my envy, and I welcome you to contribute to any future editions of this book.

In the fourteeth and fifteenth centuries, gunpowder became an important part of battle for Westerners. This was not at first due to any practical efficiency, since other weapons had much better accuracy, reliability, and faster reloads at the time, but for sheer intimidation factor the cannons and “hand-gonnes” (spelling was a highly subjective thing back then, but think small cannon mounted on a pole) of the medieval battlefield were hard to beat. They made loud noises, belched fire, and created clouds of noxious smoke. To the mostly Christian armies fighting other Christians, or occasionally Muslims or the odd pagan tribe, it was as though God himself might smite you where you stood. As the technology improved, firearms became an important part of siege warfare, eventually surpassing catapults, trebuchets, and other medieval siege equipment in their ability to compromise castle walls or the hulls of ships. The basic design was essentially the same for ages, however; a metal tube with a small touch-hole in the back end, either mounted on a wood frame or stuck on a stick like a spear head. Gunpowder was poured down the barrel, then a projectile inserted, and then fire was applied to the touch-hole, which may have been primed with additional powder. Ignio Ergo Boom.

Figure 1.2 “Guard your pan and stand readie.” De Gheyn’s musketeer tries to prevent errant sparks from his lit match hitting the exposed priming charge prematurely.

Over time, and with advances in metallurgy, guns became lighter and more portable, with slightly more ergonomic stocks for use by Renaissance foot soldiers or mounted horsemen. Larger versions became staples of fortifications, armed ships, and support units. Gunpowder was refined to improve consistency and explosive power. The hand-held or stick-mounted source of flame became a slow and hot burning rope “match,” which could be applied more consistently and safely with the use of a trigger that lowered it onto the touch-hole of a matchlock musket. Ramrods were built to be carried in the stock as a part of the gun, and pre-measured powder charges could be carried on a bandoleer for ready access. All of this was designed to improve the firing rate and accuracy while reducing accidents, something that is always a concern when dealing with loose gunpowder. The match-lock was in turn replaced over time with innovations like the wheel-lock (picture a wheel like you’d find on a disposable cigarette lighter, but bigger and mounted on a spring, wound up and then released by the trigger to make sparks), or the flint-lock (which creates sparks through the dropping of a sharpened flint against metal), and eventually cap-lock percussion firearms, which use primers containing a fulminate mix to achieve the initial ignition of gunpowder. None are perfect—flint needs to be regularly replaced, expertly knapped, and is another potential source of accidents (it’s sharp!). Percussion caps are best for consistency and simplicity, but they need to be kept dry, are small and easily fumbled under pressure, and at times pieces of copper from the percussion cap are sent flying off to the side when detonated.

Pistol’s cock is up and flashing fire will follow.

—Shakespeare’s Henry V (2.1. 45–47)

All of these styles were originally and predominantly muzzle-loaded firearms, where the components were poured down the barrel and tamped down with a ramrod. A trained soldier might be able to get off three shots per minute, and they were used militarily in rank and file volleys. You might notice a different rhythm to some muzzle-loaders, where you can hear the slight double-beat of the priming charge (the powder in the pan just outside the touch-hole) followed by the much bigger boom of the main charge of powder that is compressed in the rear of the barrel. That’s when it works as it should—misfires are not uncommon. The phrase “a flash in the pan” comes from this, describing the times when the priming charge fails to ignite the primary charge, resulting in just an external fizzle and no real effect.

Figure 1.3 A selection of muzzle-loading pistols: clockwise from top, a caplock built from a kit, a “Duck’s foot” three-barreled pistol (to repel boarders, perhaps) and a replica wheel-lock at the bottom.

Most of these muzzle-loaders were smooth bore, but the more precision pieces began to use rifling, a spiral groove on the inside of the barrel that gave the projectile a spin. Thus the term rifle. This spin makes the flight path more accurate, just as it does with a thrown football. If you ever visit Colonial Williamsburg, there’s a gunsmith’s shop just off the green that faces the Governor’s Palace, and there you can see the jig they use for rifling the barrels of their muskets. It took quite a while for these to become standard in military use, as smoothbore muskets were easier to mass produce and more reliable under the less-than-ideal conditions of sustained battle—often the caliber of the musket ball was significantly smaller than that of the musket’s bore, allowing for continued function even as the weapon became dirty from prolonged use. For rifling to work, it required a more precise fit. At the time, battles were fought by standing in long lines or ranks and firing barrages at each other from fairly close range, so accuracy was not the chief quality they looked for in an infantry weapon anyway.

Against the arquebus there is no rule which is good, but if you have to deal with someone who knows much about taking aim, be advised to be as distant as possible; and because there is no fencing other than distancing yourself, it is necessary to take care to not flee continuously, but rather by weaving, that is snaking, here and there, so that if it is possible he will lose his aim, and the shot will be in vain; and if a man sees the flash in the pan, let him go to the ground, because still many have survived by such means.

—Antonio Quintio, 1614, Translated by Jherek Swanger.

Since I won’t be covering muzzle-loaders much el...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Half Title
• Title Page
• Copyright Page
• Table of Contents
• Foreword
• Introduction
• Chapter 1: Basic Firearms 101
• Chapter 2: Arming Your Actors
• Chapter 3: Acquiring Props
• Chapter 4: Backstage Protocol and Gun Wrangling
• Chapter 5: Looking the Part
• Chapter 6: Staging Your Shootout
• Chapter 7: Shooting Your Shootout
• Chapter 8: Troubleshooting
• Chapter 9: Consequences
• Chapter 10: The Realities of Modern Combat
• Chapter 11: Covering Yourself: Professional Standards and Legal Issues
• Appendix A: Glossary of Terms
• Appendix B: Diagrams of Representative Models
• Appendix C: Additional Resources
• Appendix D: Sample Checklist and Waiver
• Index
• List of Credits