
The 20th Century Fox release continues the story of Larry Daley (played by Ben Stiller), a nebbishy Everyman who's lost his way in the world. As in the first movie, Daley encounters real-life figures from the past who come to life, including Teddy Roosevelt (Robin Williams) and Amelia Earhart (Amy Adams). (Ironically, it's up to Earhart, famous for being lost, to help Daley find his way.) Night at the Museum: Battle of the Smithsonian broadens the setting of the first film, taking the action from New York City's Museum of Natural History to the Smithsonian Institute in Washington, DC. While the opening may have fallen into place easily, Levy still faced the inevitable problems of making a sequel seem new while repeating what audiences liked originally.
"I won't risk unemployment by naming all the bad sequels that come to mind," Levy says. "We wanted to expand the scope of the first film, but I also wanted something thematically richer." Pressed about what makes a story worthwhile, he adds, "I don't look for a moral, I always look for a theme. What is the heart of the movie? It doesn't need to be instructive, just emotionally resonant. Even with the Pink Panther movies, which reward a kind of oblivious but self-believing nincompoop, I can say, yeah, there's something human and true there."
With hits like The Pink Panther and Cheaper by the Dozen, Levy has been one the most commercially successful directors of the past decade. Through his 21 Laps Entertainment, he has also produced both features and television series. "You get to direct one film a year, if that," he says about his workload. "I like being creative on a number of fronts, and producing feeds that appetite."
Levy clearly relishes the nuts and bolts of filmmaking. He worked through dozens of drafts of the Night at the Museum movies, and spent five months overseeing the storyboarding of some 700 special-effects shots in the sequel. He persuaded much of the original cast and crew to return, added new players like Adams and Hank Azaria, who portrays the Egyptian pharaoh Kahmunrah, and upped the stakes by staging much of the film inside the Smithsonian complex.
Battle of the Smithsonian was the first feature to be filmed inside the Air and Space Museum, and it proved a significant test of Levy's ability to capture shots in crowded settings. "You have Ben and his fellow actors and me and a crew of a hundred-plus people shooting an intimate scene with two or three thousand people standing a foot away, applauding after every take. Every actor will tell you that the key to being honest and in the moment is to forget about the camera and people watching, but when you have literally thousands of civilians watching, it takes that much more concentration and focus."
Levy not only had to tie the performances in with special effects, he also had to leave room for spur-of-the-moment improvements. "I don't storyboard performance scenes," he says, "because I don't want to restrict the actors. Ben Stiller and I both subscribe to a highly improvisational shooting technique. As do most of the leads in the film, for that matter—they're all improv geniuses. Telling them to just execute storyboards would be silly."
While Levy starts from a polished script, he and his crew have to be ready to "go off-road" at any moment, sacrificing prep work and even planned special effects for the sake of humor and characterizations. "Our mantra was: Really good plan, subject to change at any moment," he recalls. But he is also trying to establish a pacing that is true to his original vision. "The tone and rhythm of my movies are completely intuitive," Levy says. "I guess because I work so intimately on the script for so long, I hear the rhythm of every scene long before I shoot it. So when I'm filming, I'm really trying to get my actors and later my editorial in synch with the way I've already seen and heard it in my head."
To help maintain that rhythm, Levy employs music on the set, a throwback to silent film techniques. Months before production begins, he fills an iPod with specific musical themes, frenetic or foreboding, for example. Broadcast over the set, his playlists help guide the actors to the moods he wants. Levy found the strategy most effective with Stiller and Steve Martin, both of whom he has directed twice. Calling them "super-funny but super-cerebral," he feels that "music shortcuts their braininess in a way that I think helps their performances."



