After scouring ads, I took a break and took advantage of a deal to get a free haircut and color.
I had thought I was going to get a completely new do, but instead, they only darkened my hair and snipped here and there, keeping the length for the most part. I was sort of disappointed, and could see they cut a bit, but for the most part, the cute layered bob I was envisioning did not happen. Maybe my face wouldn't accomodate it, I don't know. I leave it to the pros to figure out what works. They liked my length and hair, so I guess I'll just leave it there.
I also asked to be put on a recurring basis on their mail list to get a refresher or new cut in a couple of months. Let's see how this current look grows out. *smile*
meanwhile, I keep scouring the jobs and looking for work. Looking for open auditions as well as background work...did receive a nice little check for some work I did over a week ago. Loving the turnaround on these checks! Will go deposit.
Saturday, March 21, 2009
Another day on SALT
It was a battle to stay awake -- but we did it in some way, shape, or form. One way or another. Exhausted, today was our "final" day filming in NYC for SALT. For now.
A 6:15 AM report call. Jesus. I stumbled in on time but the line was killer long and snaked through the hall and past the women's bathroom and looped through a conference room situated beyond that. It was an indicator of how long today was going to be. I got to play a spectator AND a mourner same day a dual role I had assigned to me all along. Had to change mid-way through the morning and shivered in the thin black dress I wore as a mourner -- although we had been told we'd be brought into the church, we shivered outside instead as a spectator anyway wearing our uptown mourner chic clothing. Finally got to see Angelina Jolie in a scene where's she's walked out in handcuffs covered in dust from the supposed explosion in the church and she looks just as she does in photographs. Fabulous cheekbones and angles. She looks very thin and about my height. I didn't dare take a picture of her although others were trying to be slick with their cell phones. I don't know why, but cell phone pictures are just not the same quality and certainly don't have the same zoom power as a camera would.
The early morning schedule and subsequent huge mob of extras to organize and fit into a scene took time and also took a lot out of us.
In any case, saw the jerkaholic who was waiting patiently to take his photo of Angelina. I wanted to laugh out loud and have him tossed out, but it's Hollywood and one must learn to play the game. I wonder if Angelina even knew about what happened. Must take a page from her book as to how she even deals with these types.
Thursday, March 19, 2009
When In Rome
Last summer I worked for several days on the movie When In Rome as an irate Roman mom/wedding guest. The movie stars t.v. vets Kristen Bell (Heroes, Veronica Mars fame) and Josh Duhamel (All My Children - Leo, Vegas fame). Oh, and Don Johnson (of Miami Vice fame) plays Kristen's dad! My how time flies.
We had to pretend we were in Rome, as typical upscale Romans, celebrating a wedding and the filming took place in one of the older ornate buildings (I believe it was the former Children's Services court building) in downtown Manhattan. I wore a simple pretty dark sky blue dress with a plunging neckline and had my hair done up in a beehive so high and stiff that when a scene called for some fake champagne glasses to fly and break, some pieces went into my hair and STAYED there, I had to pluck them out. To add to the authenticity, I went to my costume jewelry box and put on a necklace from which hung a ruby stoned crucifix and a big gaudy ruby ring.
Let's just say I was hard to miss. We worked an initial couple of days then came back for four days work which were punctuated by the director falling ill and having an emergency surgery, having the production crew actually go to Rome to film some scenes then called us when they came back to finish shooting the scene. We shot those days as overnight shoots and it threw off my body clock for a good couple of weeks after finishing the shoot before going back to normal.
So imagine my surprise when I see a casting call this week for a re-shoot, and they want to shoot a summer exterior. Visions of walking in summer clothing of thin cottony material, and without a coat, hat and gloves, makes me shiver. Then I think, this is a paycheck. Do I put my health on the line in order to pick up a two day paycheck down the line while not having any health insurance coverage? Thus the life of a BG faces one of its many challenges.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
The Truth, part two
After a week or so, got a surprise call from the casting people who I had worked the first Truth gigs for. They wanted some of us to come back as they liked our work from the prior gig.
After waiting for some time as the crew set up and discussed logistics, it was time for us to head down to the track and get assigned to certain groups. For the runners, we had groups A, B and C and I was in group C. We were only instructed to go HALF of the track, but running it several times quickly covered the amount of what would have really been at least twice or three times around the whole track. We did many takes, each run going a little farther, a bit longer. I am not a runner and not graceful at it by any means, but I was a good sport and gave it my best. It wasn't so bad as long as there was a quick break inbetween each take. Then we had to be careful on how we suddenly "died" and fell where we stopped in mid-run, careful not to hurt anybody or trip up anyone behind us in the process of 'dying'. Before long, we were snacking on fruit and bread and drinking water. We got most of the filming in before breaking for lunch which involved sandwich wraps, potato/tuna/macaroni salads, chips, cookies, soda, juice, coffee and tea.
Eventually, it was time for another guy to pick up the megaphone and make the speech about how second hand smoke was somehow better or just as good as running according to a quote from some anonymous cigarette executive. And he ran with us, he was a bit portly, and did his best to say his lines without being totally winded but it was tough. He would miss a part or mess up his speech or his megaphone would suddenly go silent. Eventually we made it through and they had us just lie silently in place, 'dead' on the track, until he got it right because it was useless running over and over again by this point.
***************************************
I guess 'taking one for the team' and lying in that milk DID bring something positive after all.
Then I asked, "Will I be in liquid or hanging upside down from something?" The CD laughed and said I wouldn't be and that I would play a pedestrian since I already did the milk one.
Happily I said yes, and thus I found myself at the Brooklyn Armory on a glorious sunny day, going to the gym accessed by a side entrance and changing into gym clothes I brought with me for the gig. I tied my sneakers, and got myself inspired by observing the PA's set the multiple camera angles up while separating our group into smaller groups and giving us our assignments. I would be a runner, part of the last group joining the rest of the runners already on the track running/chasing some pro runners who are getting surprised that all these mysterious people in orange socks and headbands are joining them.
After waiting for some time as the crew set up and discussed logistics, it was time for us to head down to the track and get assigned to certain groups. For the runners, we had groups A, B and C and I was in group C. We were only instructed to go HALF of the track, but running it several times quickly covered the amount of what would have really been at least twice or three times around the whole track. We did many takes, each run going a little farther, a bit longer. I am not a runner and not graceful at it by any means, but I was a good sport and gave it my best. It wasn't so bad as long as there was a quick break inbetween each take. Then we had to be careful on how we suddenly "died" and fell where we stopped in mid-run, careful not to hurt anybody or trip up anyone behind us in the process of 'dying'. Before long, we were snacking on fruit and bread and drinking water. We got most of the filming in before breaking for lunch which involved sandwich wraps, potato/tuna/macaroni salads, chips, cookies, soda, juice, coffee and tea.
Eventually, it was time for another guy to pick up the megaphone and make the speech about how second hand smoke was somehow better or just as good as running according to a quote from some anonymous cigarette executive. And he ran with us, he was a bit portly, and did his best to say his lines without being totally winded but it was tough. He would miss a part or mess up his speech or his megaphone would suddenly go silent. Eventually we made it through and they had us just lie silently in place, 'dead' on the track, until he got it right because it was useless running over and over again by this point.
We did one more segment where we were gathered around the two spokesguys, the portly guy and the guy who had the megaphone on the prior milk and restaurant shoots, and they trash talked each other as we tried hard not to laugh and roar on cue to show our 'support' and enthusiasm. As they took some time to set up the scene, I got buzzed for a potential gig I had already confirmed on -- the casting person for that gig wanted me to confirm...again. So I tried to make a quick call. The casting person asked simple questions that had already been answered, and I advised I was on set. In anticipation of anyone calling for a potential gig, I had left my availability with my cousin in case anyone called at my home. My cousin texted me that the casting assistant wanted to hear the confirmation from me. Fine. Successful in relaying my confirmation, I was told to call another number in a couple of days to then re-re-confirm! Holding in my surprise, I thanked them for calling, and we said goodbye and hung up. The production crew was finally ready to shoot the trashtalking scene. Some of the background was oblivious to the crew filming and were chatting and cracking jokes. One of the PA's lost it and basically told them to "shut up". Then after several more takes, it was finally a wrap. Luckily I had my bag with me hidden behind some seats nearby and I was one of the first females in line to get signed out. I briskly walked to the train station, my orange socks still on, when a curious passersby asked what was going on inside the Armory. I gave a quick explanation that it was for a commercial for an anti-smoking campaign. They were satisfied with the answer and I was free to navigate my way back to the train station where people did doubletakes on my orange socks. What? Has one never seen orange before? Maybe the designers need to bring it back as a new color trend in clothing!
***************************************
Little did I know what the next assignment would be, the final commercial so to speak. The one where I would be a pedestrian. I found myself wandering lower Manhattan, in the South Street Seaport area, to find the holding area for what would be the final day. As I walked in, I saw some men getting body paint work done -- they had tights on and looked a bit like wrestlers. I wondered what was going on. I would soon find out.
We gathered in a holding area that had no heat, and we waited while they set up the breakfast table of muffins, bagels and light snacks. After that, we got an announcement as to what would be going down. They had groups of jumpers, of pedestrians, and those who ....would be wrestling in applesauce. Yes, applesauce.
The crew got one of those rubber jumper gym type things and got air into it, then got these huge drums of actual applesauce (they were yellow drums that read 'organic' applesauce, whew, whatta relief it's organic!) and poured them in slowly, with the crew recording our faces for surprise, curiosity, and the participants about to get into the applesauce were yelling, cheering and clapping.
We broke for lunch. We waited for the crew to get fed and they came in fits and stops. It took a while before we finally were able to get to the food.
The production crew tried to hold off on the moment of truth -- when the ten to fifteen individuals were to get into the rubber playpen and 'wrestle' or 'fight' in the applesauce, outside, in the cold. It quickly became apparent that my swim in the milk would be nothing compared to being outside covered with applesauce with a bitter sharp wind coming nearby while on the pier of the South Street Seaport while the spokes guys with their megaphones were forgetting their lines as they shivered. Everyone was turning blue or purple. The wrestlers came in for a bit, and one bald one that looked like Mr. Clean was shivering and turning purple as he hoisted one of the announcer guys and spun him carefully in the muck as people wrestled or flung some applesauce out that hit us pedestrians -- and I had my just dry cleaned coat on! I tried to dodge it as much as I could while the director yelled for us to get closer to the mess that was happening. No pedestrian in their right mind would get CLOSER to something obviously looking messy wet on a windy cold day. The applesauce started to ooze out of the inflated contraption and the PA's got big scoopers and shovels to scrape it off the ground and poured it right back into the goop as people wrestled. So it was a mix of dirty city sidewalk mixed with the applesauce and people were getting it in their faces, hair and clothes, and gosh I hope they didn't taste it.
More takes were done, despite having at least three PA's running around with hand-held cameras for multiple angles done at once as well as the main camera focusing in on the action. We saw the applesauce wrestlers shivering and the wrestler finally said "No more," and walked off the set. The director was heard to say that if he heard one more person asking if this was a wrap the PA's were instructed to release that person on the spot and without pay.
The portly spokesguy came out again to do a couple of sound bites and get our audience to make some noise to tape. After another fifteen or twenty minutes, it was over, and we all bolted for holding.
We had been advised at some point prior to coming to this last gig that some people who worked the prior candy and milk gig would be able to pick up their check from that gig as long as they provided the production company a xerox copy of their official I.D. for them to keep. Otherwise, we would have to wait to go and pick it up at a designated time and date at their offices. I was fine with picking it up from their offices, and got signed out and marched myself back to the train station -- but not before stopping off at McD's for a small fries as a small celebratory "finally!" for myself.
I got home, cleaned up the spots of applesauce off my coat, and took a quick shower, went to bed early, and packed my bag to get ready for the next acting gig.
The Truth...? Baby you can't handle the Truth.
One for the books is the infamous truth.com anti-smoking campaign ads that you see from time to time on television or in viral where usually a mob of people suddenly show up somehow and do something wild or frenzied.
In the four commercials that were filmed almost guerilla style over the course of several days, I found myself as an upscale snobby restaurant patron, where I just merely sat at the bar and was served pretend pinot g, and had to gasp in pretend snobby indignation. The lead guy who had the megaphone remarked about my reaction to him, apparently my look of pretend disgust looked pretty convincing and threw him off a bit.
When it was time for lunch, we had to walk over to holding which was a couple of blocks away, and when we got there, the Production Assistants or PA's walkies went off and we heard that everyone had to come back to set. We each grabbed a sandwich, water, some chips, and quickly headed back, biting and chewing into our lunch as we headed back to set. We sat in a temporary place next door, as they were still setting up, and barely sat down to take a bite of food when the PA's order us to head back into the set. I said, "oh no!" and a PA took pity on me and said to take a minute but hurry. So I tore into three mini-chicken drumsticks/wings, swallowed some water and left the rest of my nice plate behind to go next door to set.
The idea of it was: someone, a diner at this fancy restaurant and bar, suddenly gasps and yells, "It's PEPPER!" and we hear screaming and yelling and a bunch of people come tearing through the restaurant in bright orange shirts along with several people in 'hasmat' suits squeaking as they stormed out of the place holding up carefully the pepper grinders. Then the megaphone guy appears along with another holding up a sign declaring a quote about some cigarette executive talking down the dangers of second hand smoke and compared it to black pepper.
So it was very dramatic and over the top and made its point. We consider black pepper to be harmless, sneezing aside. No one's ever gotten cancer or died from using it.
The second commercial was more interesting and much more physically demanding. In this one, I got to be one of the orange mob and wear this orange tshirt that screamed prison inmate or construction worker. We had been asked prior to taking the gig whether we were lactose intolerant or diabetic. If any of us were, we were advised that we could not take the gig. We were told we might be eating candy and drinking milk for the commercial. Interesting. We were told to bring a change of clothes and a towel, wear comfortable shoes, and to wear clothes we didn't mind getting 'a bit dirty'. So I guess I'll just keep the Gucci and other bling at home.
The production company had us meet in a supermarket they rented for an overnight shoot. There is something spooky yet weirdly fun and space-agey about being in a supermarket and seeing all the different colored packages all lined up so nicely, row by row. And besides you, the fellow background and the production crew, there are no customers with shopping carts moseying down the aisles and then rushing all at once to the registers to form lines. The place is as quiet as a church except for the faint whoosh of water that comes out of the sprinklers that line the fresh veggies and salads to keep them pert and crisp.
Some background individuals, giddy from god knows what, took it upon themselves to suddenly view the fruit in the veggie aisle as props for juggling -- and badly. Dropping apples, oranges, and laughing as if they were being very clever for coming up with the idea. Bad idea. They would drop the fruit, bruise it, put it back, pick up another one. I asked them to stop as people buy and eat that food and it would be all bruised and that wasn't right. Ignored, I signaled to a PA who seemed to be looking at these juggling dorks and advised that dropping the fruit was bruising it and could the PA do something? Like furtive five year olds, they put the fruit back, shrugging sheepishly that they were 'only juggling' and would put the food back -- but that was not the point. One bright extra juggled apples right in front of another PA and promptly dropped them, and actually blushed for being 'singled out'. In every case, it was someone attempting to impress a member of the opposite sex or simply get attention. I wondered if their parents ever told them how it was not nice to play with your food. Maybe they thought it wasn't technically their food, so they could do what they liked and let the next person who bought it be the sucker.
The first commercial assignment for that night was to run like mad through a pre-mapped course through the front of the supermarket right before you reach the registers, grab a bunch of bagged or assorted candies, and act like crackheads for candy, shoving some in your mouth, semi-fighting over some candy then rushing through certain aisles towards the back of the supermarket and out of sight of the numerous cameras placed throughout the pre-mapped area that captured all the action. We ran several times, grabbing candy like a lunatic and running like mad, yelling and hollering like maniacs to the back of the supermarket. It was chaos but that is what the director was looking for. We went out with a roar and grabbed candy, and on one of the first runs, my legs were kicked out from under me and I literally fell on my ass, my legs up in the air. Lucky I was wearing jeans. The problem was there was a huge crowd of people pushing and running, and all I could do was tuck myself up in a ball and watch this sea of legs jump over me and the subsequent knocked over shopping cart that another actor had to conveniently throw on its side as part of the 'enthusiasm' to reach for the candy that was stacked within it. Within seconds, three sets of hands grabbed me and lifted me up and we all ran like lunatics screaming down the canned food aisle towards the back. We hear "CUT!" and "Back to one!"
One of the AD's came over to me and singled me out, "YOU were the one who fell," and I was thinking, "Oh shit, I fucked up," but instead I nodded and said, "Yeah, got my legs kicked out from under me by someone," and he just practically high fived me, gave me a thumbs up and said, "That was TERRIFIC! It looked great on camera!" And I was like, "Really?" And he said it looked really good and showed the chaos and it was just right. Realizing he wasn't kidding but was truly delighted with how it looked on his side, I relaxed and smiled and said, "Ohhhh. Good!" He asked if I was OK and I said yes, and I was, I landed nice on my ass and not on my tailbone or thighbone which was perfect and not painful. He trotted back to his crew and I thanked the ones who helped pull me up.
The second time, my foot got stepped on, hard, on the outer part of the arch, which was a bit painful but nothing was broken and, best part, I didn't fall once after that first time. Each time got better and more fun. One guy grabbed for the candy bin like on the third or fourth take and found he had a head of lettuce in his hand, had to make the most of it and just run with it. Another guy ended up with a huge eggplant, no one knows how THAT got in the candy bin but he just took off with it. The image of seeing him run with the eggplant was a sight to behold. The head of lettuce was thrown up in the air and leaves from the lettuce came showering down. One guy grabbed a container of candy, opened it, and just poured it into his mouth as if he was a thirsty man in the desert about to drink lush delicious clean water and I went to grab it but he was too tall and kept it out of my reach and I just ran, howling with the rest of my orange shirted brothers and sisters, as the night went on.
We took a break for 'lunch' in the middle of the night and the production company had rented out some time at a nearby diner where we ate some fresh hot prepared food served buffet style. It was ethnic, lots of potatoes and sausage, there was salad, some pasta, and dessert looked so yummy but I stayed away from it. I grabbed a ginger ale from the tub that was there full of sodas and water, and the food line moved quickly, everyone found a seat and we all paired up and laughed, joked, and talked about what we had just done and about how some of our fellow background people were a bit too method. In a couple of instances, some were picking up loose candy that had fallen on the floor and were cramming them into their mouths, as if in hopes that someone famous might see them being so dedicated to the role of a frantic candy junkie.
When we got back, it was when the challenges really began. The second commercial part involved milk. Yes, milk. And lots of it. We were no longer candy junkies but MILK junkies, and we again had a new pre-mapped way of getting to the 'milk' section. It involved grabbing dedicated gallons and half gallons of milk, opening them and taking big swigs and passing them around, except no one really did and milk started spilling in the aisle. People had big spills (no pun intended) running into the milk and a couple of people swerved into the jelly aisle and got some minor cuts.
People got treated while the rest of us moved on. After several takes, we were all shivering and people were not as energized -- we did take after take. Finally, the director advised if they could get six people to 'take one for the team' and instead of involving everyone, for these six to sit and lie down in pools of milk by the freezer section. After a short silence, I was one of the six picked and we had to lie down as if we just 'died' of an overdose and landed in the milk. The girl next to me was shivering and stuttering "fuckfuckfuckffffuckfuck" and she was cold. I tried not to laugh through my own shivering teeth and thought about Bermuda, some place warm and hot, and these liquid lapping at me was really warm clear blue ocean water.
After several takes, it was one more shot -- and I decided I would pass on this last piece. A PA came over and shook my hand, saying thank you, and something along the lines of my being hardcore and a professional. I was dripping but grateful it was over. As I grabbed some papertowels to start sopping up the milk from my clothes and hair, I watched for a few seconds some brave souls who decided to stick around for the final shot which was to guzzle as quick as they could from half gallon containers of milk. One or two had a gallon. One woman managed to ingest half a gallon of milk before they yelled cut and we were wrapped.
We all whooped in appreciation and headed back to holding, which was a couple of blocks over. The early morning was windy and cold and being soaked in milk only made it more urgent to get back to holding and get toweled off and into dry clothing. I had the presence of mind to bring a plastic bag to hold my wet clothes in and boy did it feel soooo good to get dry and change clothes. During the chaos, my favorite shirt, which I had brought with me to change into, had disappeared. I went back to where we were filming to see where it could be and asked every PA there. No one knew. I was disappointed only because it was a favorite shirt. I was disappointed and a bit annoyed, and headed back to holding to see if it would magically reappear there, asking everyone who passed by me about my shirt and giving a description. Then good news. It was found by a PA who had witnessed it being tossed into the brush nearby the holding area.
When I told my aunt about it, she mused that someone may've taken a liking to me and probably was going to walk off with the shirt as a kind of 'prize', then heard people talking about it and tossed it out of fear. Then I told my cousin and a fellow actor and they thought it was creepy and possible too. That creeped me out even more.
Interestingly, I love milk, love to drink it, and this experience will not keep me from drinking it further. Milk does a body good!
In the four commercials that were filmed almost guerilla style over the course of several days, I found myself as an upscale snobby restaurant patron, where I just merely sat at the bar and was served pretend pinot g, and had to gasp in pretend snobby indignation. The lead guy who had the megaphone remarked about my reaction to him, apparently my look of pretend disgust looked pretty convincing and threw him off a bit.
When it was time for lunch, we had to walk over to holding which was a couple of blocks away, and when we got there, the Production Assistants or PA's walkies went off and we heard that everyone had to come back to set. We each grabbed a sandwich, water, some chips, and quickly headed back, biting and chewing into our lunch as we headed back to set. We sat in a temporary place next door, as they were still setting up, and barely sat down to take a bite of food when the PA's order us to head back into the set. I said, "oh no!" and a PA took pity on me and said to take a minute but hurry. So I tore into three mini-chicken drumsticks/wings, swallowed some water and left the rest of my nice plate behind to go next door to set.
The idea of it was: someone, a diner at this fancy restaurant and bar, suddenly gasps and yells, "It's PEPPER!" and we hear screaming and yelling and a bunch of people come tearing through the restaurant in bright orange shirts along with several people in 'hasmat' suits squeaking as they stormed out of the place holding up carefully the pepper grinders. Then the megaphone guy appears along with another holding up a sign declaring a quote about some cigarette executive talking down the dangers of second hand smoke and compared it to black pepper.
So it was very dramatic and over the top and made its point. We consider black pepper to be harmless, sneezing aside. No one's ever gotten cancer or died from using it.
The second commercial was more interesting and much more physically demanding. In this one, I got to be one of the orange mob and wear this orange tshirt that screamed prison inmate or construction worker. We had been asked prior to taking the gig whether we were lactose intolerant or diabetic. If any of us were, we were advised that we could not take the gig. We were told we might be eating candy and drinking milk for the commercial. Interesting. We were told to bring a change of clothes and a towel, wear comfortable shoes, and to wear clothes we didn't mind getting 'a bit dirty'. So I guess I'll just keep the Gucci and other bling at home.
The production company had us meet in a supermarket they rented for an overnight shoot. There is something spooky yet weirdly fun and space-agey about being in a supermarket and seeing all the different colored packages all lined up so nicely, row by row. And besides you, the fellow background and the production crew, there are no customers with shopping carts moseying down the aisles and then rushing all at once to the registers to form lines. The place is as quiet as a church except for the faint whoosh of water that comes out of the sprinklers that line the fresh veggies and salads to keep them pert and crisp.
Some background individuals, giddy from god knows what, took it upon themselves to suddenly view the fruit in the veggie aisle as props for juggling -- and badly. Dropping apples, oranges, and laughing as if they were being very clever for coming up with the idea. Bad idea. They would drop the fruit, bruise it, put it back, pick up another one. I asked them to stop as people buy and eat that food and it would be all bruised and that wasn't right. Ignored, I signaled to a PA who seemed to be looking at these juggling dorks and advised that dropping the fruit was bruising it and could the PA do something? Like furtive five year olds, they put the fruit back, shrugging sheepishly that they were 'only juggling' and would put the food back -- but that was not the point. One bright extra juggled apples right in front of another PA and promptly dropped them, and actually blushed for being 'singled out'. In every case, it was someone attempting to impress a member of the opposite sex or simply get attention. I wondered if their parents ever told them how it was not nice to play with your food. Maybe they thought it wasn't technically their food, so they could do what they liked and let the next person who bought it be the sucker.
The first commercial assignment for that night was to run like mad through a pre-mapped course through the front of the supermarket right before you reach the registers, grab a bunch of bagged or assorted candies, and act like crackheads for candy, shoving some in your mouth, semi-fighting over some candy then rushing through certain aisles towards the back of the supermarket and out of sight of the numerous cameras placed throughout the pre-mapped area that captured all the action. We ran several times, grabbing candy like a lunatic and running like mad, yelling and hollering like maniacs to the back of the supermarket. It was chaos but that is what the director was looking for. We went out with a roar and grabbed candy, and on one of the first runs, my legs were kicked out from under me and I literally fell on my ass, my legs up in the air. Lucky I was wearing jeans. The problem was there was a huge crowd of people pushing and running, and all I could do was tuck myself up in a ball and watch this sea of legs jump over me and the subsequent knocked over shopping cart that another actor had to conveniently throw on its side as part of the 'enthusiasm' to reach for the candy that was stacked within it. Within seconds, three sets of hands grabbed me and lifted me up and we all ran like lunatics screaming down the canned food aisle towards the back. We hear "CUT!" and "Back to one!"
One of the AD's came over to me and singled me out, "YOU were the one who fell," and I was thinking, "Oh shit, I fucked up," but instead I nodded and said, "Yeah, got my legs kicked out from under me by someone," and he just practically high fived me, gave me a thumbs up and said, "That was TERRIFIC! It looked great on camera!" And I was like, "Really?" And he said it looked really good and showed the chaos and it was just right. Realizing he wasn't kidding but was truly delighted with how it looked on his side, I relaxed and smiled and said, "Ohhhh. Good!" He asked if I was OK and I said yes, and I was, I landed nice on my ass and not on my tailbone or thighbone which was perfect and not painful. He trotted back to his crew and I thanked the ones who helped pull me up.
The second time, my foot got stepped on, hard, on the outer part of the arch, which was a bit painful but nothing was broken and, best part, I didn't fall once after that first time. Each time got better and more fun. One guy grabbed for the candy bin like on the third or fourth take and found he had a head of lettuce in his hand, had to make the most of it and just run with it. Another guy ended up with a huge eggplant, no one knows how THAT got in the candy bin but he just took off with it. The image of seeing him run with the eggplant was a sight to behold. The head of lettuce was thrown up in the air and leaves from the lettuce came showering down. One guy grabbed a container of candy, opened it, and just poured it into his mouth as if he was a thirsty man in the desert about to drink lush delicious clean water and I went to grab it but he was too tall and kept it out of my reach and I just ran, howling with the rest of my orange shirted brothers and sisters, as the night went on.
We took a break for 'lunch' in the middle of the night and the production company had rented out some time at a nearby diner where we ate some fresh hot prepared food served buffet style. It was ethnic, lots of potatoes and sausage, there was salad, some pasta, and dessert looked so yummy but I stayed away from it. I grabbed a ginger ale from the tub that was there full of sodas and water, and the food line moved quickly, everyone found a seat and we all paired up and laughed, joked, and talked about what we had just done and about how some of our fellow background people were a bit too method. In a couple of instances, some were picking up loose candy that had fallen on the floor and were cramming them into their mouths, as if in hopes that someone famous might see them being so dedicated to the role of a frantic candy junkie.
When we got back, it was when the challenges really began. The second commercial part involved milk. Yes, milk. And lots of it. We were no longer candy junkies but MILK junkies, and we again had a new pre-mapped way of getting to the 'milk' section. It involved grabbing dedicated gallons and half gallons of milk, opening them and taking big swigs and passing them around, except no one really did and milk started spilling in the aisle. People had big spills (no pun intended) running into the milk and a couple of people swerved into the jelly aisle and got some minor cuts.
People got treated while the rest of us moved on. After several takes, we were all shivering and people were not as energized -- we did take after take. Finally, the director advised if they could get six people to 'take one for the team' and instead of involving everyone, for these six to sit and lie down in pools of milk by the freezer section. After a short silence, I was one of the six picked and we had to lie down as if we just 'died' of an overdose and landed in the milk. The girl next to me was shivering and stuttering "fuckfuckfuckffffuckfuck" and she was cold. I tried not to laugh through my own shivering teeth and thought about Bermuda, some place warm and hot, and these liquid lapping at me was really warm clear blue ocean water.
After several takes, it was one more shot -- and I decided I would pass on this last piece. A PA came over and shook my hand, saying thank you, and something along the lines of my being hardcore and a professional. I was dripping but grateful it was over. As I grabbed some papertowels to start sopping up the milk from my clothes and hair, I watched for a few seconds some brave souls who decided to stick around for the final shot which was to guzzle as quick as they could from half gallon containers of milk. One or two had a gallon. One woman managed to ingest half a gallon of milk before they yelled cut and we were wrapped.
We all whooped in appreciation and headed back to holding, which was a couple of blocks over. The early morning was windy and cold and being soaked in milk only made it more urgent to get back to holding and get toweled off and into dry clothing. I had the presence of mind to bring a plastic bag to hold my wet clothes in and boy did it feel soooo good to get dry and change clothes. During the chaos, my favorite shirt, which I had brought with me to change into, had disappeared. I went back to where we were filming to see where it could be and asked every PA there. No one knew. I was disappointed only because it was a favorite shirt. I was disappointed and a bit annoyed, and headed back to holding to see if it would magically reappear there, asking everyone who passed by me about my shirt and giving a description. Then good news. It was found by a PA who had witnessed it being tossed into the brush nearby the holding area.
When I told my aunt about it, she mused that someone may've taken a liking to me and probably was going to walk off with the shirt as a kind of 'prize', then heard people talking about it and tossed it out of fear. Then I told my cousin and a fellow actor and they thought it was creepy and possible too. That creeped me out even more.
Interestingly, I love milk, love to drink it, and this experience will not keep me from drinking it further. Milk does a body good!
Dedicated to the Undedicated
I figured, why not write about my adventures in the land of a BG (background) or Extra player on a film or television set? I know I'm not the first to work this idea and certainly won't be the last. So I take this on as a curious side project, see what comes of it, and hope those who by chance or personal invitation read this get a good chuckle or two.
I know I have. And the experiences overall? It's been good. Really good.
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