Around halfway through the initial period of filming, the idea arose that Peggy might play Bard’s daughter: ‘It was never a plan,’ she says, ‘it just happened. Philippa Boyens asked me to audition and told me, ‘We’ve got this small part. It might be fun for a couple of weeks.’ I was really excited, but found the audition quite scary.’

  Peggy had to read two scenes, in one of which Bard is leaving his family because he has to go away for a while. ‘It was only a couple of pages,’ she remembers, ‘but it was very emotional. The other scene was one with all the Dwarves where I was handing out soup – something we’ve done quite a lot of in this film.’

  ‘And blankets,’ chips in Mary.

  ‘Yes,’ laughs Peggy, ‘our main role in the movie is giving people soup and blankets!’

  The girls prepare to hand out blankets.

  After her audition, Peggy was filled with doubts: ‘I really thought, “I’ve blown it! There’s no way! It’s over for me!” Then, a week later, I got a call from Philippa who said, “You’ve got the part. It’s only small, but you did really well.” And from then on the role just grew and grew and grew.’

  Not only that, but Peggy’s sister soon got in on the act, as Mary explains: ‘They thought Peggy’s character, Sigrid, should have a little sister called Tilda and as we are sisters – conveniently – they thought I might as well play her. I didn’t have to audition, because it wasn’t really a big thing; it was going to be a tiny part, just in the background, but I was excited because I thought it would be fun for us to be in the film together. It was only supposed to be for a week or two and then we heard that they wanted us to come back the next year for pick-ups and it’s just gone on getting bigger and bigger.’

  With a Welsh actor, Luke Evans, playing their father, Bard’s family had to speak with a similar accent. ‘When we got our first script pages we learned that we were going to have to do a slightly toned-down version of a Welsh accent.’ It was challenging, as Peggy admits: ‘Mary and I are from South London and John Bell, who plays our brother, Bain, is Scottish, so it was new for all of us. We had dialect coaches to help us and because Luke’s talking in his normal accent all the time on set, we just picked it up.’

  Of Lake-town, the family’s home, Peggy says: ‘It’s not the most glamorous of places, because it’s dirty, grimy and cold.’

  Not only that, but as the sisters agree their costumes are far from fashionable! ‘They’re not what I’d choose to wear if I was dressing casually to go out,’ says Mary, ‘but they are amazing! Peggy has a waistcoat with a pattern on the outside, but when you look on the inside there’s a different pattern on the lining. You won’t ever see it, but it’s in there and it makes it more special!’

  Talking about the bond between the sisters they play on screen and how close that is to their own experience, Peggy says: ‘I think they are quite tough kids and because, in the story, our mother is dead, Sigrid and Tilda have more of a mother-daughter relationship because Sigrid really has to look after her sister; whereas in real life, obviously we have our Mum so I don’t really look after Mary. There are some similarities between the characters and ourselves, but actually, as siblings, we probably spend more time annoying each other!’

  One of the curious experiences for the girls has been seeing their sixfoot tall father, Jimmy Nesbitt, being ‘Dwarfed’ as Bofur. ‘I’m standing next to him,’ says Mary, ‘and then I’ll look at him on the camera monitor and he’ll look as if he’s the same size as me, which is really weird, but funny as well.’

  Issues of scale mean that Peggy and Mary have only ever acted with their father’s small-scale double, but that hasn’t stopped Jimmy from being around when they’ve been filming their scenes and offering some professional advice as Bofur the Impromptu Acting Coach. ‘He’ll watch on the monitor,’ laughs Peggy, ‘and then come running over in his fat suit; he’ll be out of breath and he’ll be saying, “Girls, you’re doing good, but I’ve just got a few notes …” He likes to help. Except we don’t always take his advice. We’re like, “No, Dad! Go away! Bye!”’

  Sigrid looks forward to throwing a bucket of water over Bofur.

  As Peggy goes on to explain, there’s a scene where Sigrid throws a bucket of water over Bofur. ‘Even though we didn’t actually get to work with each other, you can tell that I am thinking of Dad when I do it – and that I am really happy about it!’

  MISS PIKELET,

  DIVA OF THE PIGPEN

  * * *

  ‘She was born to act,’ Nori’s Jed Brophy is talking about one of his co-stars; ‘and, in comparison with her, I feel like a learner. But I have to tell you, her talent has created a lot of jealousy amongst the other actors who are not happy about the fact that she really steals the film.’

  * * *

  ‘She has achieved every girl’s dream,’ says Steve Old, the man responsible for her casting; ‘it’s a classic rags-toriches story: one day she’s just an extra, the next, a star is born!’ At which point it should probably be revealed that Steve’s job on The Hobbit is Lead Animal Wrangler and that the star in question is a three-year-old native New Zealand Kunekune pig named Pikelet.

  Pikelet gets ready to ham it up with James Nesbitt.

  Near-sighted and food-orientated, Pikelet joined the cast along with a number of other animal extras booked for scenes in Lake-town; but fame instantly beckoned, as Steve recalls: ‘We had her on set for a day and I think Peter got quite attached to her and decided to bring her into the office at lunchtime to meet Fran as his new pet. The next thing we knew they had written a scene for Pikelet and Bofur.’

  Pikelet’s co-star, Jimmy Nesbitt, recalls shooting that scene: ‘Frankly, she was better looked after than all of us put together, and given the full red-carpet treatment! Bofur is trying to grab some herbs that the pig is in the middle of eating, but Pikelet has very particular tastes and the only way we could get her to put the stuff in her mouth was to smear it with homemade pesto!’

  Ian McKellen encounters his porky co-star at Beorn’s house.

  But that wasn’t quite the end of the story, because working on a film where multiple takes are often the order of the day had its repercussions: ‘After a while,’ says Steve, ‘Pikelet got tired of pesto and we had to try something else. Knowing that she loves yoghurt, we dipped the herbs in a mixture of yoghurt and green food colouring, which worked fine, except that the camera was really close and Pikelet was chewing away so enthusiastically that the camera lens kept getting splattered with fluorescent green yoghurt.’

  In addition to her scene-stealing looks, Pikelet demonstrated a natural aptitude for a specialized branch of filmmaking, as Stunt Coordinator Glen Boswell explains: ‘There was a scene where I was expecting to have to get a stunt double to stand in for Pikelet on account of her unusual size, shape and weight. But, as it turned out, she had a real talent for stunts and, whilst I think she prefers acting, I’m writing a reference for her to the union to get her on the books for stunt work. I can think of several actors around the world that Pikelet could do some doubling for!’

  So, has fame changed Pikelet? Steve Old thinks she has become something of a diva: ‘She’s certainly enjoying the lifestyle and has become much more demanding: we have to give her more and more back rubs or she just ignores us, and she’s getting quite fussy with her food: whereas we all used to pool our scraps for her and she’d be quite happy, she now turns her nose up at anything other than the very best organic fruit and vegetables. It’s one of the things that comes with the territory, I guess.’

  Pikelet is ready for her close-up.

  Pikelet is looking forward to spending a well-earned retirement on the estate of director, Peter Jackson, but her movie career may not be over quite yet – certainly if Jed Brophy has his way: ‘She is everything I ever imagined an actress to be and let me say this, “Pikelet, if there’s ever a time that you and I could do a film together, I’m up for it. Just get hold of my agent and we’ll work out the details …”’ Jed breaks off for a moment and then, almost overcome with emotion, adds: ‘I have to admit, I’m slightly in love with you, Pikelet!’

  Debbie Logan, Food Stylist

  FOOD, GLORIOUS FOOD!

  * * *

  ‘Once the Dwarves have been at it, a ham in Bag End won’t ever have the look of a whole, perfectly glazed ham – half of it will have been eaten and it won’t be neatly sliced, so much as attacked and hacked with a blunt knife!’ Debbie Logan is about to divulge some of the tricks of the trade of being Food Stylist on The Hobbit, beginning with the fact that as soon as characters start picking up knives and forks, film continuity – and, consequently, food continuity – becomes decidedly tricky: ‘We take regular photographs – albums and albums – of every single plate of food in every take, so we can always recreate what a character was eating in any shot. At times, this can be quite a mission, especially when there are thirteen Dwarves, a Wizard and a hobbit round the table .’

  * * *

  Debbie Logan at work in her kitchen.

  In order to be able to provide sustenance for Mr Baggins’ guests, Debbie had a catering unit set up as close to the Bag End set as possible, with two ovens, fridges, freezers, sinks with hot water and a large, three-tiered trolley for transporting substantial quantities of food from kitchen to table.

  Debbie describes the process of producing movie food as ‘developmental’, a word suggesting a great deal of preparation and considerable flexibility: ‘Never knowing much in advance what will be needed, I always make sure I have a hell of a lot of food ready and standing by. The food stylist’s great fear is always that you’ll either be asked for something that you’ve overlooked or for more of something that you don’t have. One day, during the Dwarf feast shoot at Bag End, Peter Jackson decided the Dwarves were going to be throwing eggs around and I was calmly asked if I happened to have a hundred hard-boiled eggs!’

  One of the golden rules of the food stylist’s job is never throw anything away. ‘The very moment you get rid of something,’ laughs Debbie, ‘someone will say, “What happened to that slice of pie that was on so-and-so’s plate? We need it so as to be able to match with the last shot.” You never assume any scene is finally done with and you never, ever, get rid of anything until you absolutely have to. There have been times when I’ve had to keep food considerably longer than would usually be desirable, such as a scene in Bilbo’s pantry that featured some chicken bones on a shelf with fat dripping onto the floor, that had to be re-created three or four times with a month-long gap between shoots. But because it was such an important continuity detail the carcass was kept in the freezer a long way past its use-bydate – even for a prop!’

  A selection of fine cheeses on display at the Hobbiton market outside the Green Dragon.

  There was also a plentiful supply of cheeses: ‘I had a Dutch Gouda that I bought in March 2012 and which was still in the fridge the following July, by which time it was well and truly aged! Sometimes, with less durable products, recycling is a necessity: when Balin and Dwalin are investigating the contents of Bilbo’s larder and come across something smelly that they assume to be mouldy cheese, Dwalin throws it over his shoulder. Since it was, in fact, a rather expensive New Zealand cheese called Kikorangi Blue, I had to salvage what I could between takes.’

  Things often tended to get a bit messy in Bag End: ‘One of my favourite items was a pretty-looking rectangular lattice tart that had a pastry base, a layer of raspberry jam and diagonal strips on top that were dusted with icing sugar. It had only been on the table a few minutes before one of the Dwarves broke it into three pieces, so it was back to the kitchen for a duplicate! On another occasion, much to my horror, Fili got up and walked the length of the table delivering beer, treading on all the food as he went. I can’t quite remember how we managed to re-set the table after that, but I guess we did. At the end of such a day, I’d always have to assess what we’d lost and make sure it was replaced before the next day’s shoot

  Anything that actually had to be consumed by the cast was obviously cooked fresh, and in the case of the Dwarves’ feeding frenzy in Bag End that meant a lot of food, all carefully themed, as Debbie recalls: ‘Each part of the story has its unique drama, indicated by a colour palette designed by Set Decorator, Ra Vincent, that also applied to the food. So, for Bag End, we worked with earthy colours and simple, homely food. In addition to the chickens and ham hocks, there were sausages, black puddings, fruit, boiled and roasted vegetables, pies, tarts, scones and several different kinds of rustic bread, specially baked to our designs by the local baker.’

  This sumptuous feast had to be sourced, prepared and displayed at two different scales – all the while protecting it from ravening Dwarves

  The big issue, as for so many departments on The Hobbit, was scale. ‘Every item of food,’ explains Debbie, ‘had to be made twice, once at normal Dwarf scale and again as a 1.38 smaller-scale version for Gandalf. I worked out the dimensions using a pair of callipers with a pivot point in the middle so that when one end was adjusted to touch the circumference of a pie, for example, then the smaller gap at the opposite end of the callipers would indicate the circumference of the small-scale version.’

  Such computations led to some amusing experiences: I spent some time in a kitchen suppliers sitting on the floor, measuring pie, cake and bun tins with my callipers until the manager finally came up to me and asked what I was doing because they’d been observing my weird activity on the store’s CCTV.’

  Even larger-scale issues were the order of the day at Beorn’s house: ‘I had difficulty getting up onto one of the outsize chairs, let alone being able to reach the table to re-set the food. Still, I made some interesting discoveries, such as the fact that if you scale up a size five chicken’s egg, a size nine egg is roughly 1.38 larger; also, that a grapefruit-like fruit called a pomelo, that’s so large you can barely hold it in your hand, looks as if it’s the size of an orange when it’s on Beorn’s table.’

  Beorn’s honeycomb was made using a special stamp which would allow Debbie to produce it at two scales.

  Because Tolkien describes Beorn as a bee-keeper (with hives of huge bees ‘bigger than hornets’), honey was clearly an essential part of the food to be offered the Dwarves: ‘We got some honeycombs and I had a stamp made so I could remake the holes to a larger scale, then we broke off chunks and put them into a big bowl with several litres of runny honey and served it up with Dutch honey cake and brazil nuts.’

  ‘Every item of food had to be made twice, once at normal Dwarf scale and again as a 1.38 smaller-scale version for Gandalf.’

  By far the most superior menu was that created for the luxurious Elven spread provided at Rivendell: ‘The Elves are largely vegetarian,’ explains Debbie, ‘so there was a lot of fruit: star anise, egg-shaped red tamarillos, orangey-yellow persimmons and Cape Gooseberries with their lovely translucent skin. I produced various-coloured marbled eggs and there was salmon caviar in little boats of blanched white onion-skins decorated with pea-tendrils; parcels made out of banana leaves containing polenta; syrup cake with silver dust and pyramids of delightful little decorated sponge cakes that Gandalf had to keep eating. Elegantly displayed on beautiful porcelain and silver swan-shaped dishes, it was a far cry from the bunfight in Bag End!’

  Gandalf enjoys another one of Debbie’s delicious cakes.

  Inevitably, all kinds of foodie things were hardly – or never – seen, such as vegetables and other soup ingredients carried in the Dwarves’ backpacks along with Elven lembas bread. There were also major food preparations for sequences that were left on the cutting room floor until rescued as part the Extended Edition DVD: ‘For the Old Took’s party, I cooked roast meats and vegetables with apple sauce and there was a pig on a spit-roast in the background; while at the Green Dragon there was a roasting goose (made of inedible silicone by the prop department to avoid having fresh meat out all day in the sun) and a lot of ‘ploughman’s lunches’. There were also a number of stalls, including one selling breads that, because they were only props, were baked using greater quantities of salt so they could be preserved without freezing. Another stall for the young hobbits sold boiled sweets, toffee-apples and toffee-carrots that had to be potentially edible but which, in the case of the carrots, proved amazingly difficult because getting toffee to stick to a carrot is easier said than done!’

  Edible toffee-apples and toffee-carrots were two treats on offer to young hobbits.

  One thing I had always to consider was the use of seasonal items, because it’s all too easy to rush out and get stuff when it’s on the shelves without thinking about what’ll happen if you need it again in six months’ time when it’s no longer available. Fortunately, in most emergency situations there was the big supermarket next door to Stone Street Studios and they eventually got used to me running in the back door, saying: “Hey, can you give me two hundred bread rolls?” or “I want ten kilos of those tomatoes – no, not those, they’re far too small!” Needless to say, they thought I was kind of nutty because most people went in there to buy what tasted good, I went in to buy what looked good!’

  Life as a food stylist is anything but predictable, as Debbie admits in recounting just one bizarre happening, when else but during that Bag End Dwarf-fest: ‘We were setting up the pantry for the scene where it is laden with food supplies and had almost finished when the Director of Photography came in and said, “Guess what?” It turned out the order of shooting scenes had been altered and they now wanted to film in the pantry empty! So we loaded the trolley back up and I kept it really close by, near the dining room part of the set. They were shooting Bilbo standing in the pantry looking astonished at the devastation wreaked by the marauding Dwarves and I suddenly noticed, there in the background, all the Dwarves sitting around the table, tucking into food – from the trolley! The food that I had carefully sorted, labelled and arranged for the pantry had been put on the table, dived into and ransacked! Of course, my brain was racing: the next scene was the full pantry and half the stuff on the trolley had gone! I rang the butcher and, mercifully, he had some scale sausages that were ready to go; so then it was back into the kitchen, crank up the ovens and spend the next couple of hours cooking, cooking, cooking!’