Today’s Essay
I recently spent two very long days
on the set of a new sci-fi movie to be released sometime next year. I have not
been on a movie set in nearly twenty-five years, when I was cast as the
“Mexican” in a western mini-series. With my intention to find more work in the
film industry, I decided that spending time on a movie set to refresh my
understanding of the film process. An opportunity to work as an extra presented
itself and so I took two days off from my job to work the crowd scenes.
Without giving away the plot, some
of the scenes of this movie involve a lot of people attending the San Diego
Comic Con. I was one of those non-descript people you see in the crowd scenes.
We were invited to participate by the films production company who offered to
pay a fixed dollar amount to my favorite charity for every person I could bring
on set. We ended up with only a handful of people, but it was an enjoyable, if
exhausting experience.
Since we were not pre-cast as
extras, we merely had to show up on the first day of the shoot and register. Easy Peasy. As I stood in line to
register, I noticed the odd assortment of people. There were couples, young and
old, and the type of people who seemed less than disciplined students,
retirees, part timers and the chronically unemployed. Because these crowd
scenes were supposed to take place at the San Diego Comic Con, there were also
a number of extras dressed as their favorite sci-fi characters including Darth
Vader, a cadre of Imperial storm troopers, a miniature Boba
Fett, both a youthful (Episode 3) and aged (Episode
4) Obi Wan Kenobi, a Wookie,
an X-Wing pilot and no less than seven Princess Leah’s (the scantily clad
chained to Jabba the Hut version, one of them, male).
There was Star Trek TNG’s Captain Picard
and several “classic” Star Trek crewmen (and women) including Yeoman Janice, a
green skinned Orion slave girl and an assortment of other sci-fi and fantasy
characters including Frodo from the Lord of the Rings
and a guy in a cheesy homemade Robocop outfit. I felt strangely out of place
not being in some sort of costume.
Once we had signed our release forms
and had our continuity photos taken, we were taken to holding, a large hall
ringed by makeup and wardrobe personnel and plied with snacks of all sorts. The
wardrobe people went through our clothing (we were asked to bring three changes
of clothing) and dressed us appropriately. They left me as I was.
During the orientation, those profession extras
listened politely but with the air of those airline passengers that have flown
a thousand times. They already know where the emergency exits are. The rest of
us took notes. After the orientation, we were led into a theater for some crowd
reaction shots, people wildly cheering as their sci-fi heroes took the stage.
We were then sent back to holding while the crew set up the next shot. We found
our seats again, (extras tend to be notoriously territorial) and waited for the
next scene to be shot. I noticed that people acquainted with one another
socially or by common interest sat together. Those extras that had met
previously on other sets chatted with one another about their experiences on
this set or that. I also noticed that people grouped themselves by character.
All of the Star Trek people hung together as did the Star Wars and Lord of the
Rings people.
There were also subsets. All the guys playing
security guards sat together. At first, I thought that they actually were
security, but after the first scenes of the day, it was obvious that they were
extras as well. The demons, wizards and warlords sat separately, presumably
plotting the demise of the gentle souls on a quest. Others not in costume but
with a common interest sat discussing their favorite characters or the deeper
meaning of World of Warcraft. The Princess Leah’s
chatted like sorority sisters and the Imperial storm troopers stood watch over
us all.
I had heard about this happening on the original
Planet of the Apes film. Once in costume, between takes, the apes broke into
separate groups, as did the orangutans and the gorillas. People with no common
interest out of costume would sit and talk with each other while in costume. I
asked the casting director about this at party later in the week and she said
that it’s a pretty common occurrence on movie sets.
My friends and I, who have little interest in sci-fi
or fantasy, sat around trying to determine who still lived with their parents
and who had a job in the tech industry. I encouraged the girls to flirt with
the geekiest looking guys on the premise that this
would give them confidence with the opposite sex, but they just thought I was
being cruel.
After much socializing and more food, it was into
the large hall where production assistants set about positioning us for the
crowd scenes in the movie. We were given some simple directions. We were to
follow the path the PA set us on and react to our surrounding with wonder. We
were to engage in noiseless faux conversations with one another so as not to
intrude on the dialogue. “Some people like to repeat the phrase, peas and
carrots,” one PA told us.
Once placed in “first position”, we
would rehearse a scene for the cameras and principle actors, making sure that
the angles were correct and that we were moving with the required energy. Each
rehearsal and subsequent take would begin the same. The director would shout
“picture up”, followed by “rolling”, a pause, then “background action. This was
our cue to move. The PA staff echoed each command and after the “rolling”
command someone would shout, “Quiet please”. Once we began moving, the director
would shout “action” to cue the principle actors.
Each extra, dedicated to his or her
craft, would walk and engage in eerie silent conversation with complete
strangers, like the mall zombies in George Romero’s “Dawn of the Dead”. We
walked and mimed until the director yelled “Cut” and then the clarion call of
every PA, “Back to first position” or “Back to one” would bring us dutifully to
our starting points. From above, it must have looked like those microscopic
photos of the bloodstream, as the flow of blood momentarily courses backwards
through the veins toward the heart with each beat.
Each scene was filmed several times, with a few
minor changes here and there for enhancement, I assume. It was odd, meeting the
same strangers over and over, having the same whispered fake conversations. I
took to trying to make my friends laugh with odd comments or letting out a
string of curse words just to spice things up. It was a little like the Phillip
K. Dick story, 12:01, in which a man lives the same day over and over, making
just a few adjustments here and there, hoping to change the end result, but
always repeating the cycle. In the end, he shoots himself in the head to stop
the process only to awake to the terrifying realization that he is stuck in
this loop, forever. (The lighter “Groundhog Day”, was based on this very dark
tale.) I wondered to myself if we would be out of focus for these shots, or
would I be able to pick myself out in the actual film.
A quick break for lunch and
then back to holding where we waited to be movie stars again. For the next scene, only a
hundred people were taken. The more experienced extras knew that this was often
the case and so sat closest to the entrance of the hall. They were chosen more
often for scenes and were assigned to a team, giving them more face time. Those
who rushed to the call were often disappointed and taunted by the team members.
Life as an extra is a lot of waiting around, unless
you’re willing to do what it takes to get on camera. Lobster girl (a girl
dressed as a lobster) was in nearly every scene as were the princess Leah’s and
storm troopers. My cousin Frank, who’s never been able to hold a job in his
life, loves being an extra and casting directors love him. He’ll do anything
they ask. In one movie, he had live maggots dumped onto him as he lay through
an hour and a half of takes with him as a mangled body. In another instance, he
spent two hours draped over a barbed wire fence and in still another, he spent
nine hours lying in a mud puddle.
As the day progressed, whole groups of people slept,
read books, played cards and made repeated trips to the snack table. There was
a lot of time to people watch. More than once, I caught myself admiring the
rear end of Princess Leah only to discover too late that I had been looking at
the drag Leah.
By day two the crowd had thinned out a little, with
some of the volunteers only able to take one day off of work. The first timers
who returned were more prepared, bringing blankets, pillows, laptops, DVD
players and games. There was a rugby team practicing their scrums and a few
guys tossing around a Frisbee in an empty ballroom. Everybody’s energy seemed
to wane a bit during the scenes and the production assistants did their
creative best to keep us animated. One of the PA’s led willing participants in
an impromptu conga line, another in a raucous version of the Hokey Pokey. After
two days, it wasn’t that weird to be standing at a urinal next to Darth Vader
wondering if he was breathing hard because he was still in character or if he
was having prostate problems.
Sitting so near to so many people in holding, it was
hard to not listen to conversations. Among those people who make sci-fi and
fantasy their passion, I heard arguments about people traveling to and from
other dimensions, discussions about continuity errors in films, especially
involving time travel and the sharing of the latest technologies used in film
to make the fantastic seem real. I was privy to a conversation between a white
man in his early forties and a young Asian girl no older than twenty-three.
They discussed their favorite movies, books and films with no barrier between
them. Their age, class, culture and income did not matter here. They were fans.
Some discussions centered on the film itself. After
spending that much time on the set, many of the extras became directors
themselves, discussing camera angles, crane shots, continuity
and speculated on the plot. Many talked about their own screenplays.
The two days progressed pretty much the same from that point on. Eat, read, act, read, eat, sleep. I even smoked a couple of cigarettes just to break up the monotony. At the end of the shoot, the extras lined up for their pay slips, giddy with excitement and a little sad that this adventure was over. This was what they called a good shoot. The atmosphere was pleasant, the primary actors were accessible and the extras were treated with respect. I never heard anyone, from the director to the casting assistants yell at anyone. I have been on some rough shoots, and this one was, by far, the best. I’d do it again, maybe when I retire or if I become unemployable.