By Meredith Perri
It started out innocently enough. My freshman roommate received a text message from one of her friends from home Tuesday night. Simply put, it said Ryan Reynolds would be on Newbury St. filming for his new movie “R.I.P.D.” In a giddy haze, I agreed to go with her and our other roommate to stalk the alleyways and side streets between Newbury and Boylston St. in an attempt to see a movie star in the flesh.
The next morning, we started the trek to Newbury St., speed walking to the extent of running out of breath. All three of us were anxious at the prospect of just being near the star of “The Proposal” and “Definitely, Maybe.”
As we turned the corner near Urban Outfitters, though, we didn’t see anything that would prove the information we received was correct. There weren’t any cameras or trailers. Nonetheless, we continued walking down the street and waiting for someone we passed to scream in a high-pitched voice of how she saw Ryan Reynolds. That didn’t happen.
What did happen? We came across three trucks parked in between one of the side streets that said Universal Studios on them. This was when we knew we weren’t just right, but we were close to the set.
Two blocks down, in front of the Nike store, we noticed about two dozen people just standing around – some looked elated, some looked like they just wanted to get lunch. But they weren’t letting people walk down the street.
A hushed awe fell over the crowd, both excited and peeved alike, as someone yelled, “Rolling!” and a tow truck dragged a mustard colored car out of an alley with Reynolds sitting in the passenger seat.
Within seconds of the car passing through the street, people rushed by to continue on with their days. My roommates and I, however, kept exploring. We walked down to the next block, Dartmouth St., purely because the car Reynolds was in had to come from somewhere.
We were correct again. This time there were even fewer people and the security didn’t mind if you stood right near the alley that Reynolds’ car was being pulled through. Such was the case when they did another take of the same shot.
Reynolds’ car came by and the only distance between him and his fans was the space the tow truck had formed when it pulled through.
Reynolds looked out as a group of about twenty people, mostly girls, gasped and squealed as he smiled and waved before once again disappearing into the abyss of the alley.