Movie: Crush

Year: 2011

Stunt Double

Stunt: Stairfall 

Location: Los Angeles

Have you ever been in a situation that you immediately regretted, but there was no way out, so you just had to suck it up and do it? If you haven’t, congratulations—you’re making better life choices than I am. Totally kidding, I loved my stunt career.

When I was a new stuntwoman, I said yes to every job I knew I could physically do. Especially if it didn’t require much more skill than “throw yourself at something and survive.”

I had spent my short stunt career listening to seasoned pros talk about their first stair falls or car hits or fire burns like they were rites of passage. So when I got my first call to do one, I didn’t even let the stunt coordinator finish explaining—I was already shouting, “YES!” before I even knew what I was falling down. Honestly, I was just excited to finally be able to start a story with “My first stair fall was…”

At this point, I was only in my second year of stunts, which still makes you a rookie. My friend Luci, who had been in the business longer, always said, “You can’t call yourself a stuntwoman until you’ve been doing it for five years and making a living.” She was right. Until then, you’re just a human crash test dummy with potential.

Getting called for this stair fall wasn’t just another gig—it was a chance to earn my stunt street cred. Who is Shauna Galligan? I wanted to be Shauna Galligan is great—hire her!

The day arrived, and I had a call time of 5 p.m., which meant my big moment wouldn’t come until around 4 or 5 a.m. The glamorous part of stunts: Sitting around all night trying to stay awake. There’s not much rehearsal for a stair fall—you just count to three and launch yourself into what is essentially a violent game of Plinko with your body.

I got to my trailer and saw my costume: very short, see-through lingerie. No socks. No slippers. No dignity. At least I had a wig, which I convinced myself counted as head protection.

I found the stunt coordinator, Chuck Borden, so we could go over the fall. That’s when I saw the stairs.

Hands down, some of the roughest stairs I could’ve asked for. Narrow, leading into a basement. One side was jagged, unfinished cement. The other side was open with a sharp wooden handrail—and a ten-foot drop to even more cement. I’m 5’9”, which meant I had to tuck tight and roll straight, or I’d either get shredded by cement or fall off the side.

I had the entire night to sit in my trailer and imagine all the ways I could get hurt. Every time I started to relax, my brain whispered, Hey, what if you land on your face?  I stress-ate snacks until 3 a.m., finally dozed off, and was woken up at 4 a.m. by a loud BANG BANG BANG on my door.

Still half-dreaming, Shauna you are needed on set immediately. No pads—because lingerie. Meanwhile, my friend Chris Brewster, who had to do the fall first, got to wear pants and a jacket because men always get more costume coverage. Unfair. He did his fall and said, “It’s not too bad… but it’s sketchy. Sorry you have to go padless.” Great. Love that for me.

The cameras were ready. Lights set. Time for my 4:15 a.m. date with gravity. I stood at the top, counted my steps in, and told myself: Make it look ugly, make it look real, and for the love of God, don’t fall off the side.

How do you do a stair fall? Count to three. Go fast. Dive-roll. Let the stairs punch you in places you didn’t know could bruise. I’ve always envied stunt performers who get to fall down carpeted stairs. All day long, buddy. But sharp wood, cement, and metal? They have feelings, and they don’t like you.

The nerves hit. Why did I take this job? Why am I a stuntwoman? Is it too late to become a librarian? They say people fear death because they don’t know how they’re going to die. Well, I knew exactly how I was going to get injured, and that was worse. I think.

3…2…1… ACTION!

No thinking. Just doing. Five big steps in. Jump. Dive-roll. Tumble, tumble, tumble. Every sharp wooden step kissed my body with the tenderness of an abusive relationship. But I landed at the bottom, not in a crumpled heap of regret. Success! I laid there, acting hurt until they yelled CUT. Then I jumped up like nothing happened and ran up to watch playback.

Director: “Great job! Let’s do one more for safety.”

Ah, yes. One more for safety. My least favorite sentence. It’s always the one you regret because it’s always the one that hurts worse.

Annoyed even more but this time not by me but by the director wanting another take. It’s like Directors think we are made with metal bones. It doesn’t hurt them let’s keep beating them up NBD. This time, I knew how bad it felt, which somehow made it worse.

3…2…1… ACTION!!

Run. Jump. Dive-roll. The first stair hits—ouch. The fall feels longer. Suddenly, my body finds NEW things to hit. This time, I scraped my entire side down the unfinished cement wall, then smacked into the wooden railing on the other side. My thigh instantly swelled up, giving me a third butt cheek.

CUT!

I hobbled up the stairs, this time actually in pain, to check playback. They were happy with both takes. Praise be. I limped back to my trailer, peeled off my wig, and inspected the damage. It was now 6 a.m. My night was over.

Next stunt? Getting hit by a car while riding a bicycle. Sounded way less painful than those damn stairs. As long as my third butt cheek could squeeze into wardrobe, I was good to go.

If you know you’ve made a bad choice but you have no way out, no matter what the life situation or stunt. These few things I have learned apply to most if not all situations and I hope these help you like they have helped me as I learn and grow as a mom, stuntwoman and capable bad to the bone human being. Goals, right? 

Here’s how I push through and make it work:

1.Own It and Reframe It

Instead of spiraling into regret, flip the script. Tell yourself, “This might suck, but I’m going to get something out of it.” Whether it’s a lesson, experience, or just a wild story to tell later, find the silver lining.

2. Commit 100%

Half-assing something painful just drags it out and makes it worse. Whether it’s a stunt, a job, or a commitment you regret, go all in. If you’re going to take the hit, make it count. If I half-assed any stunt, there are way more chances I could get hurt (and hurt others) if I don’t go 100% with confidence. 

3. Focus on the Payoff

What’s the long-term gain? Will this give you credibility, experience, resilience, or even just bragging rights? Keep your eyes on what you’ll get from pushing through, not just what you’re suffering through.

4. Control What You Can

You might not be able to change the situation, but you can control your mindset, preparation, and response. If you can’t avoid pain, minimize unnecessary damage—mentally or physically.Channeling your inner stunt person creates strength and resilience. How would a stunt person act in this situation to accomplish the ideal outcome? 

5. Laugh at the Absurdity

Humor makes everything more bearable. If you’re stuck in a ridiculous situation, find a way to laugh about it. It won’t hurt less, but at least you’ll be entertained. Like being lit on fire then jumping through glass then getting hit by a car in one take. I mean, that’s crazy! Let’s do it and make it epic. No other way to think about it. Or you will die. 

6. One Step at a Time

When something sucks, don’t think about how bad the whole thing will be—just focus on the next move. In a stair fall, it’s jump and roll. In life, it’s breathe and move forward.

7. Know That It Will End

Painful situations feel like they’ll last forever, but they won’t. Remind yourself: In a few hours/days/weeks, this will just be another thing I survived. And you’ll be stronger for it.

8. Take the Lesson and Move Smarter Next Time

Once it’s over, reflect. Did you learn something that will help you avoid this situation in the future? Growth isn’t about never making mistakes—it’s about making better ones.

Whatever you’re pushing through, just remember: pain is temporary, but the story (or the lesson) lasts forever.