We’ve rehearsed this, but it’s go time and the mood in the prep tent is focused and somber. 

Meticulous preparation goes in to a fire stunt like this. For weeks I’ve been practising breath-holds while swimming lengths of a 25m pool under water to build my lung capacity. 

We’ve rehearsed our performance repeatedly with our stunt department and the camera department, like a carefully choreographed dance. Safety teams watch and learn every detail as any deviation would be a sign of trouble. When fire goes wrong it goes VERY wrong, VERY fast!

We start dressing into our layers of Nomex base layers which have been soaked in fire retardant gels and kept over night in a freezer. The cold takes my breath away. Our costumes go over the top as well as fire resistant gloves. A thick layer of the frozen gel is slathered over my head, face and neck and the final piece of the jigsaw is put on; a silicon mask. It has tiny windows at the eyes and a straw sized hole to breathe through. I keep my breath slow and calm. Any rise in heart rate will burn through too much oxygen and I’d struggle to draw in enough air through the tiny opening. 

My visibility is restricted to a cloudy one metre spot directly in front of me. Gel drops on to my eyelid. I’m led to the set like a blind person being helped across the road. 

The set is quiet. Instructions are hard to hear under the mask and any message I need to convey is done in clumsy sign language. I’m in a sensory deprived world of my own. 

Directed by our stunt coordinator, the Special Effect Team (SFX) start applying a petroleum accelerant mixed with glue so that it sticks to our costume. The fumes rise up and sting my throat and lungs. I must stay calm. The breath hold is coming. 

Everything is in place. Every person on the set, from every department, is poised. Even the costume department have asked their trainee to watch so she can learn the process. Fire stunts like these don’t happen very often. 

My stunt coordinator starts the final count down,

‘READY?!’

I take a slow, deep breath and hold. In case the ‘popper’ goes early I want my lungs full. I bite down on the straw so no burning fumes can get in to my lungs. 

‘3… 2… 1… light them up.’

The front 3 performers who will do the stunt with no mask are lit. Leant forward so the flames don’t lick up into their exposed faces.

‘Ready and… 3… 2… 1… ACTION!!!’

A fire ball explodes behind me but I’m facing outwards and I can’t see anything... I start my action. 

I hear my boss shouting,

‘1…’

The accelerant catches, I look down at my arms and see the flames lick up around me, higher and higher until I’m completely enveloped.

‘2…’

The fuel burns at around 2870° and I’m in the heart of it. All I see is a wall of red and orange and I continue my performance. 

‘3… 4…’ 

I become aware of the blood curdling screams of the 3 performers at the front. The sound is terrifying. But I need to focus on myself. 

‘5… 6…’ 

My cue to drop to my knees as rehearsed, slowly collapsing from the agony of the heat. 

I block out everything but the sound of my boss’ voice. 

‘7… 8…’ 

My hands go down and I crawl a couple of feet forward. 

The costume trainee runs off in tears thinking she just witnessed something go terribly wrong. But this is our job, what we are trained to do, what we accept. 

‘9…’

I collapse on my front. Dead. 

‘10… OUT! OUT! OUT!’

Our primary safety teams run in with the extinguishers clearing their own path through the fire as they go. But I’m not in the clear yet. I still need to hold my breath. Fire and fumes are still all around us. 

Another 10 seconds passes. I raise an arm with a thumbs up. I haven’t felt any heat come through my costume and I’m ok but I still hold my breath. The fumes from the extinguisher are lingering.  

I feel a tap on my shoulder as a cue to stand. Up on my feet and out of the mist of fumes, I pry the breathing tube open with my tongue, exhale the built up carbon dioxide and take a long, slow breath in. It’s hard not to pant after a long hold but I need to keep calm under the mask. I give a double thumbs up to let my team know I’m breathing again and I’m ok. 

Now I’m a smouldering mess of fire ravaged clothes and black soot covers everything in the scene. Under the mask I’m smiling like I’ve just achieved enlightenment. I’m buzzing!!! I want share my elation but I’m completely shut off from the outside world except some basic hand gestures.

It’s not until I reach the prep tent and with the help of my team that the mask eventually comes off, nearly an hour after it went on. Only then do I find out that everyone else is ok, it went perfectly and they got the shot. 

I’d already been working in the stunt industry for 4 years by that point. I’d doubled actors on marvel films, worked on Star Wars productions and if even done a few other ‘gags’ (stunts). But it was at that moment, in my mind, that I had earned the title and could now call myself a Stuntman!