Acting strange

Fit for a walk in the Boardwalk Empire

2012-01-24T20:24:00.008-05:00

So I got to Steiner Studios a bit early and streaked right past the guard gate (there was no one in it) to what I thought would be toward building #7 but the numbers stopped at #6 toward the far end of the lot. Puzzled, I got out of the car and asked for directions. I was told that it was an "airplane-hanger-like" building -almost next to the guard house! Oooops! In my zeal to get fitted first, I flew past the half-cylindrical structure that was at the very front of the studio lot.

I reparked the car closer and walked over to the strange building's front with the understated door on it's right side. Entering it was even more perplexing. I was now in a small darkened vestibule with three doors -then took a guess at opening one of them. It opened onto a wide expanse of a Krell-like arrangement of clothing racks. Period clothing... from the 1920's.

A woman behind the makeshift table assemblages noted that I was early and that I could sit and wait. I made myself comfortable and just gazed around at the vast amount of clothes all arranged in painstakingly categorized nomenclatures. A man reviewed my name and gave me some papers to fill out. I quickly got that out of the way and settled in to doing my crossword puzzle from AM NewYork (they're soooo easy -even an extra could do it).

It wasn't long before an attractive young woman (with a tiny twinkly diamond-like something stuck to her nostril flap) asked me to follow her into a neatly curtained fitting area, where her coleague would size me up with her measuring tape. For the next hour I was trying on various combinations of her choices of wool pants, shirt, tie, vest sweater, shoes and a fedora hat. All of which was to be reviewed by the "supervisor-fitter lady" -who wasn't satisfied with the results at all. In fact she just about took over and began a fitting process that took me from a shabby looking lowlife "dandy" to that of a better dressed middle-class worker wearing a hamburg. I liked her style -she knew how to dress a man up!

Walking around the area in my 1920's wardrobe got a few smiles from the locals (which I took in with great satisfaction). I needed that feeling because it's been a rather dry few months since my last gig -and in between that period I got laid off from my four-year old real-life job. And so I realized just how much I love being an extra exactly for this reason.

Filming of season #3 won't start until the latter part of February, but I don't mind. Like the stars and creators of this show who were awared with the Golden Globe awards, I look forward to another "renewed" season.

Pan Am in the Bowery Ballroom

2011-09-04T15:51:00.021-04:00

What better place to shoot a Paris nightclub scene than on Delancey Street in downtown Manhattan... in the Bowery. The location scouts are so imaginative.

My suit-fitting session at Steiner Studios was very productive a few days ago when I got measured for a 1963 outfit: suit with open shirt -pants worn high. Very drab -a perfect fit for an ND background extra.
Steiner Studios are very well kept. They are clean, curteous and very professional there. More so than at my regular day-job. I was immensely impressed. It was also great to be back in my old college neighborhood... Pratt was not far away from here... but I decided this was not the time to visit. I had been an alumni guest there with my wife a few years ago -but memory lane would have to wait, there were other memories coming up.

Holding was at the historical St. Patrick's Old Catherdal on Mulberry Street. I read up on it a bit -as I like to know more and more about NYC's historical places (an extra benefit from this line of work). My preparation came in handy later during our discussions while walking to the set along it's long "protective" brick wall. I also recognized that this was the neighborhood that I had come to for my "Italian film debut" at the end of last year.

We all collected our altered clothings from the wardrobe department and changed behind a makeshift set of labariynthine arras setups. We all had to be styled with a 1963 haircut so we lined up for the looooong wait. But the chit chat made it bearable as our respective turns would eventually come up. My hair had to be done twice.

The first time it only got pasted down... and then as I passed by the head-hairstylist guy, he flagged me down and clipped a few more strands from the back of my duck-ass curls. When he finished with me I looked like an old time Brylcreem ad.
The women looked the best. They all got twinkly evening gowns with high waists and expressed decolletage -complemented by pageboy flip hairdos that were topped off with a pillbox hat! Did they really look like this in Paris 1963... I guess they must have since there were old magazine clips of 1963 people scotch-taped to the walls for reference.

We were taken to the set about 5 blocks away at the Bowery Ballroom -where another makeshift holding area awaited us. This time it was the basement bar -a welcome refuge for us after the very bright sunny walk through the hot summer day. In the basement it was dark and cool. We continued the chat as some of us got sporadically called to set upstairs. I got antsy after a few hours of sitting and not being called -and decided to walk up the steps that opened up to a two tiered dance club -complete with camera crew, directors and a bevy of extras. It was wonderful. But with the hours flying by and many of us not having been called up to set... well, I was having my doubts as to whether or not they were going to use all of us or not. So I accepted my probable fate and moseyed down to the basement to sit out the rest of the afternoon in Pan Am oblivion.

This proved to be a gross misconception on my egotistic part. Because soon after, we were all summoned to "center stage" and spread around the top floor's nightclub scenario. I was placed with one of the women near the bar area, where Colette, one of the "Pan Am stewardesses", played by Karine Vanasse is having a drink with a friend. Oh goody, at least I caught a glimpse of one of the stewardesses. At another part of a scene, I was placed at the bar itself and told to fraternize with the bartender and the guests around me -while smoking a cigarette. I don't smoke... but these were herbal cigarettes and we were not supposed to bring them near our faces or inhale -only for the effect of the 1963 predilection for smoking... everywhere! So I lit one up... then another... and another...and another... and Oh yeah, it was high-school memory time. The young bartender and I were bantering back and forth as the next scene was being set up. Between the scenes, we could take a break by going outside... into the brightness of reality that was Delancey Street. Many years ago, when I first came to this country with my parents, we would go shopping in this neghborhood. Clothes, shoes, tablecloths... all were bought the usual way: bartering. That world disappeared... this was now a shieky-trendy nabe on the fringes of the ever-expanding Chinatown -where young people would come to louder and louder exhibitions of rock-band euphoria... all the while smoking real cigarettes...et al.

A different pretty starlet, this time a blonde, with an English gentleman was now next to me. They chatted with us a bit (thereby releasing us from the "don't speak to the stars" restrictions). I mentioned my trip to England, to Lynne and Ouspensky's grave and the vicar there...etc. The Englishman picked up on the thread, but then the director (man with glasses... I assume it was Thomas Schlamme) called out "camera's rolling...and BACKGROUND!"
The pretty starlet turned out to be Anabelle Wallis -who was playing the part of Bridget -presently having an altercation with two men. There is some secret document being passed between the characters. But all the while, I just keep drinking my wine (cranberry juice) then chatting en francais with the barkeep, and later still with an African-American patron and oogling a girl having a drink a few seats away from me. That, basically was my silently-mimed moment of glory on this set.

[Flash-forward: The resulting scene was actually in episode #2 (aired on 10/2/2011) -and, as shown below (from a photo off my tv screen) -I barely got my profile into a quick shot with Bridget and her frantic pilot boyfriend chasing after a spy in the nightclub.]

While they were "checking the gates", I told Anabelle she did a great job with the script and descended to the dance floor. There must have been better than a half a dozzen scenes that we were all in. My odds of being seen on camera in this early episode have increased -though there are never any guarantees.
During one of the "wait for ACTION!" to be called moments, a rather stunning girl was placed in front of me. I saw the similarity in her face to one of my favorite actresses of the past, and asked her if anyone ever told her she looked like Ava Gardner.

"Who?" was the sincere reply... as my jaw dropped in surprise to her lack of familiarity with one of the greats. And so I turned to the guy next to me who was keeled over on the table in a "lack of sleep stupor" and I asked him:
"You know who Ava Gardner is... don't you?"... I might as well have been in a vacuum. He replied that he didn't know her either -and keeled right back into his restfull position. So I turned to the stunning girl and tried to explain it without any success. And it was at this point that I finally accepted being an anachronism... or at least trapped in the Hollywood Twilight Zone. But I could work with that -after all, it's part of acting strange.

In fact, we worked from 7:30 AM to about 12:30 AM... long... longer than I'd expected. But then one of the other women said that she had worked for this show last week and she didn't get home until 8:00 AM the following morning. Guess I got lucky. I got home at 3:30 AM.

Budapest theater experiences

2011-07-24T23:07:00.008-04:00

Some 55 years ago, I was in the 3rd grade -on a class trip to a puppet theater in Budapest... my birthplace. We were shown to our seats in a very orderly fashion... the show started and we were mesmerized by the story that was taking place on the puppet stage.

Suddenly... the lights went off and there was complete darkness. In fact it seemed like a very long time that we were in a kind of "will the play continue?" limbo.

And then a very startling moment took place. The theater's giant doors flew open -revealing a tremendous bright light that eventually subsided as our eyes got used to the change, revealing everyone in the streets running in everywhich way... and then the terse announcement: "All of you can go home..." -Just like that, the Hungarian Revolution of 1956 was under way -but none of us in the class knew that. All we knew was that a moment ago there was order -and now there was utter chaos. I knew where I was and I knew where I lived -and so I started toward my home. Luckily, my parents were somehow aware of what had been happening and were en route to intercept me... We all made it home -only to become refugees in the following weeks.

And now, in the present day -I am standing in front of these doors that flung open to a new life. Needless to say, I did not go to see a puppet show here again.

But my wife and I did go to see a show at the Budapest Operetta and Musical Theater. And interestingly enough, the musical we saw "A Nice Summer Day", deals with a teenager's dilema to escape from post-1956 Hungary or to "stay in the boat". The boy stays and he is heralded as a hero for doing so. As this was a very popularly accepted sentiment with the audience, who clapped for 20 straight minutes, I couldn't help but reflect on my own situation -wherein I didn't have a choice. But I was glad that my parents made the right choice -to leave the unstable future that communist Hungary would become.

One burning question remained for me after all these past years... one that kind of haunted me -perhaps even made me act strange... the question being: What would my life been like, had my family stayed in Budapest?". I had all sorts of phantasies, such as a champion gymnast (I was always very flexible), or a champion chess grandmaster (although I learned chess at 5, I had abandoned it until my college years... in Hungary my "talent" might have burgeoned -yeah... "burgeoned")... etc.

But my question was slowly answered from the various discussions I had with people in Hungary while touring now in 2011. The answer was not a pretty picture. Many people were arrested after 1956 and sent either to prison or to Siberia by the Russians and their "puppet" government in Hungary. Those who came back from prison were not treated as heroes... not commemorated until the iron curtain was eliminated in 1989.

So this was a very revolutionary reconnection for me... plenty of emotion-stirring experiences for me to draw on... for fututre gigs... albeit not in the Budapest theater.

NYC Celebrities

2011-05-17T23:30:00.017-04:00

We went to see Robin Williams in Bengal Tiger at the Baghdad Zoo -excellent acting work. Very charismatic. Also, it's clear that there's no end to Robin's generosity. A great human being all around.

David Beckham

I got this great snapshot of David Beckham after he gets interviewed outside ABC studios on Broadway.

Kiefer Sutherland

At another romp through New York City we decided to go snapping pics of actors et al. It's a simple formula: just hang out at the exit doors of Broadway shows (with all the autograph seekers) at the end of each show... and start clicking away with your digital zooming camera. Other places to hang out is in Times Square, near the ABC studios. Here are some of my latest photos of Kiefer Sutherland, Chris Noth, Chris Rock, Bobby Cannavale, Sam Champion, George Stephanopoulos, Jason Castro, Mario Andretti...

Chris Noth

Chris Noth was very friendly, occasionally grimacing a funny face when one of the people made a comment to him like, "Hey Mr. Big -is it really?". He'll never live down his Sex and the City role (what guy would want to?).

Chris Rock

Chris Rock posed with a couple of people -great attitude and very generous with his time. Everyone who wanted a photo or a signature eventually got it.

Bobby Cannavale

Bobby Cannavale continued to remain in character all throghout his signings: a kind of sad and dour effect. When he came near me, I asked him "Whatever happened to M.O.N.Y. that we were in -never picked up by NBC?" He immediately looked up and gave a sad acknowledgment of "Oh yeah..." and nodded as he passed on with his signing duties. So much for small talk!

Sam Champion and George Stephanopoulos of ABC's Good Morning America

Sam Champion was a lot more livelier than George. They were closing out the morning show on the day before the Royal Wedding in England in Times Square. Sam remained and posed with a couple of women after the signoff.

Constantine Maroulis

The Rock of Ages/American Idol-star was the friendliest when we got his attention. He constantly flashed the "rock-on" salute -popularized in the show. (I've always identified it with the "happy Hawaiian" hand gesture.)

Jason Castro at B.B. King's off Times Square

My wife and I went to see Jason and his band perform. We got front row tables and had a great time listening to his sound while munching on nachos with a couple of drinks.

Car raceing champion Mario Andretti

There he was with his IZOD promo and a 2-seater racing car in front of Macy's last week. I once got his autograph... more than 20 years ago (when his hair was still black), so it was a strange thrill to see him again in his graying stage of life -still in it, albeit from the business end.

OK... so I'm a groupie!

A Late Quartet… a very very late quartet

2011-02-23T17:02:00.018-05:00

Christopher Walken

Call time was 4:30 PM –they wrapped us at 5:AM the following morning. But the excruciating part was that they didn’t use most of us for the first 7 hours. We just sat in holding at NYC’s Metropolitan Museum of Art’s lunch room area while the principals did their shtick in the theater section opposite the Egyptian papyrus drawings.

Philip Seymour Hoffman

I met up with a few of my background-buddies and camped out in the back of the non-SAG area. There were not enough chairs for everyone so we switched sitting and standing at opportune intervals. At times the banter flowed easily, at other times we were just gawking at the well dressed people and commenting on their attributes. Some of the young women had no problem with slinking in and out of their evening wear in front of a hundred people while still wearing their street clothes to cover any overexposure. Women are so clever… they know how to entertain us guys!

We had brown-paper bagged lunches at 9:00 PM, while the SAG-people had a hot catered meal. The familiar foment of the non-SAG masses began with a disgruntled murmur. So much so that our PA had to make a speech about this food/room-apartheid not being a class-distinction but rather a “fact of acting-life”. Yet another instance of “acting strange”! (Please note that I do not hate SAG people –I hate the class separation. Also, to be fair -for a SAG-point of view, please read Jennie's comments at the end of this blog entry).

The irony in all this was that we were all supposed to be dressed as high-style/upper-class patrons of the art, observing the performance of a highly successful string quartet. The quartet on the stage was composed of Philip Seymour Hoffman, Christopher Walken, Catherine Keener and Mark Ivanir. Yaron Zilberman was the director and Wallace Shawn had a part in the near-stage audience (the rest of us were far and fuzzy non-descript stage audiences).

Wally Shawn

But it was fun to watch the principals banter on the stage. Walken being the nuttiest with his usual “did my mind arrive yet” persona. A couple of giggles ensued when Hoffman tried too hard to play his viola and screeched a few sounds (none of them could really play –the music was all dubbed in the background). But the part that really irked me was that none of them showed any passion (didn’t even try to show how much the music was affecting them), in spite of their music coach… so where’s the acting!?. Mark Ivanir was the only one to pick up on how to move his fingers for a vibrato effect on his violin.

Mark Ivanir

Too bad their collective effort to show a top-class musical group in action, was really falling flat and it was obvious that none of them had any musical training. And Keener was constantly removing her shoes and rubbing her toes -even rolled down her stockings above her knees to the surprised guffaws of her fellow "musicians". Uptight with a bad fit, I’d guess.

Catherine Keener

The Takacs String Quartet (briefly referred to and badly mispronounced by Christopher Walken on stage) is most likely the group that this movie was modeled after. A short bio from their home page states: "The Takacs Quartet was formed in 1975 at the Franz Liszt Academy in Budapest by Gabor Takács-Nagy, Károly Schranz, Gabor Ormai and András Fejér, while all four were students. It first received international attention in 1977, winning First Prize and the Critics’ Prize at the International String Quartet Competition in Evian, France. The Quartet also won the Gold Medal at the 1978 Portsmouth and Bordeaux Competitions and First Prizes at the Budapest International String Quartet Competition in 1978 and the Bratislava Competition in 1981. The Quartet made its North American debut tour in 1982. Violinist Edward Dusinberre joined the Quartet in 1993 and violist Roger Tapping in 1995. Violist Geraldine Walther replaced Mr. Tapping in 2005. In 2001 the Takács Quartet was awarded the Order of Merit of the Knight’s Cross of the Republic of Hungary." Memento mori: In 1994, Ormai learned that he had incurable cancer -he died in 1995 at age 40. For his part, Christopher Walken plays the elder member of the quartet, who has developed Parkinsons Disease and who consequently in the middle of their playing, stands up and announces that he can't keep up with his members -then following it with the introduction of a replacement cello player. A little more banter with the audience as he throws a kiss to all and walks off stage right. Bravo! (Take 5...6...7...)

By 3:30 AM everyone in the audience was keeling over with sleep –and when the director said we could break for 5 minutes… well, the groans were just inescapable. And they were followed by “We don’t need 5 minutes –we need to go home!”. Apparently the powers that be eventually relented and by 5:00 AM some of us were in the street at 5th Avenue and 84th Street, hailing cabs, including me.

I thought that I could get home by catching a cab to Penn Station and hopping on a late-night train. Unfortunately I had just missed the 4:54 AM and had to wait over an hour before the next train was leaving toward my home’s destination. Needless to say I didn’t get any sleep. But it felt good to be home, say hello to my wife –change my clothes and leave for work. And I know I said this before… but now I mean it: NO MORE OVERNIGHT SHOOTS! (Really...)

Man On A Ledge on Madison Avenue

2010-11-15T18:06:00.038-05:00

Elizabeth Banks and Sam Worthington (aka: The Avatar guy)

I should have known when my agent, Desiree, asked me if I was up to doing this stint for 2 weekends –that it was going to be something grueling. And it was… 5:AM calls, for which, I had to get up at 3:15 AM… or so I set my clock, and then promptly turned it off in my sleep-deprived delirium. Of course my wife –who happened to get up at 4:AM nudged me to remind me about this gig.

And then I realized... WHOAAA! ---- I'm gonna be late?!!!

Kyra Sedgwick, cop, ME-the one with the bright face- and Sam Worthington

And in 10 minutes I took my shower, dressed and was out the door and into my car. I was no longer deliberating on whether or not I should take a train from my home station. The drive from my house to the city on the empty roads was a marvel of delight! I was there and parked at our 45th street and 2nd Avenue holding area in under 40 minutes.

Why I rush to these early calls I’ll never know. The line was out the door and the hundreds of extras that were slated for this scene weren’t finished being processed for another hour. But a commitment is a commitment –and I stick by it.

Holding was a kind of an unfinished store with a second half-floor overlooking the 1st. It had exposed girders and lot’s of cement dust. But it was able to hold the large band of extras –many of whom (us non-SAG bg’s) were corralled to the cramped, untabled, darkened, second floor. This is such a bunch of hooeyfied discrimination. SAG gets to be in a spacious floor with tables and the rest of us get to cramp up in a cave-like dwelling. Reminded me of the beginning of 2001:A Space Odyssey –where the apes are huddling inside a cavern. First come, first served -I say!

Three madeup Hassids

One of the production assistants went around to ask if anyone wanted to be made up to be a Hassidic Jew!? Three old guys were "chosen" –and it took about an hour for the makeup experts to affix the appropriate facial hair to make them look authentic. Luckily there were 2 real-deal Hassids they could copy from. Other exotics were Sikhs and Moslems.
(Gosh… I hope it’s politically correct to call them “exotics” -since the rest of us were ND's?!)

We were finally called to set a little before 7:AM and placed in bunches along the four corners of Madison Avenue and 45th Street, near The Roosevelt Hotel. This is where “the ledge” was going to be… about 20 stories up. There was very little oversight for us bg's and we tended to wander over to wherever we wanted to -unless we were selected to do some "feature" work (but only the cute girls get picked for that)!

Michael Laurence

I wound up on one corner the first day doing the "crowd below does cheer and fist-pump" action for the man on the ledge. There was a taxi in front of us and the scuzzy-looking guy sitting on it looked familiar. I inched up to him and asked him if he was in the last season of DAMAGES. He was glad that I recognized him and we chatted for a minute or two. As it turned out, he was playing a scuzzy-looking guy again in this scene also. His name was Michael Laurence -an upcoming star.

Sam was our hero and confidently tethered through his clothing, as were the other ledge-walkers (cameramen, stunt dudes, other actors, etc.)... but it was still a scarry sight to see Sam sit on the corner ledge and dangle his feet while waving to the crowd below to react to him. 20 stories below, an airbag awaited any wardrobe-malfunction problems that might suddenly occur.

Man on a Ledge throws money to the extras

The "jump" was done in 4 takes: two for the stunt-double, who was raised about 30 feet above the bag via crane and cable; and two takes following with Sam doing a 10 foot backward-falling dive from the crane's ledge (sans tether). We were viewing this from our new places -next to an ambulance that was constantly on and sending carbon monoxide into our immediate area. We complained to the nearby PA to tell the ambulance driver to turn the motor off... he then called another PA with our complaint...who, in turn called another PA... until finally, the 4 th PA behind us came over to us and asked "What's the problem???". When we explained and showed him the exhaust we had to stand near, he shrugged his shoulder, spoke into his walkie-talkie and no one did anything. Since we were all getting a bit dizzy, we decided to take our safety into our own hands and joined another crowd -far away from the ambulance. No one noticed. As I said before, oversight on this set was very poor. Where are the union-reps when you need them?

Director Asger Leth

But we background extras are a hearty group and when we "smell" action coming up -we persevere! And action it was... as Kyra Sedgewick and Ed Harris came on the set. The director with the very understated persona was Asger Leth. He was friendly enough and even posed for the crowd toward the end of the day. Only the physical scenes seemed to animate him -as he went over to Ed and Sam to explain how he wanted the fight-movements to take place.

Sam Worthington fights with Ed Harris - ME at extreme right

The scene was Sam Worthington slugging Ed Harris while Kyra, as a newswoman, interviews him during his aggressive arrest by the army of cops. For some reason, Kyra kept laughing everytime after this scene ended. Ed Harris got the worst of it -as his clean beige suit got dirtier and dirtier on the back after each take. I was worried for Ed... he looked very skinny to start with. Maybe it was because of his age... or maybe it was to make him look more evil for the part he was playing... or maybe because of all the cigarettes he was smoking on set??? Nonetheless, the makeup department always fixed him up and he survived the dozzen or so rough takes.

At one point we were placed around Ed Harris' Mercedes and told to react to the fighting. Later we were taken away to the remotest parts of the set as tracks were laid down for the camera to shoot from "behind" us (albeit without us). An hour later we were taken back to the car, only to realize that a different set of people were already there. As we tried to insist that "we were here first" a fight almost broke out between two girls. One of them getting really nasty -cursing and ready to poke the other gal in the face. (As I always say: The real show takes place behind the scenes!) I blame this all on the crew who did not insist on having "continuity" in the scene. We were about 8 feet away from the principal characters -so our faces were definitely associated with the scene. But how will it look when all of a sudden you have different faces in the background a second or so later in the film. Very poor oversight on this set.

Though there was ONE good thing about the poor oversight... the paparazzo's were rampant -both internal to our set and externally (freelancers and tourists) . No one could control the incessant cell-phone cameras from sneaking photos of the stars and the scenes at just about every juncture... even during the takes. This resulted in me being able to find a couple of pretty good photos on the web... the very next day! (So, for us extras, the papparazzi is our friend.)

Our legs were killing us -we had to stand for most of the 10 hour sets over a couple of days of shooting. Ten minute breaks afforded us a few cups of coffe to stay awake form our sleep-deprived stupor. And lunch was a "boxed lunch" -for most of us who were non-SAG; the union guys got hot food downstairs while we had to watch them eat from our upstairs cave. But I chalked it up to practicing "humility" and hung with my fellow extras in communistic endurance... waiting for "the REVOLUTION"!

Got into an Italian film: IL GIORNO IN PIU

2010-11-11T19:22:00.013-05:00

The title translates into meaning "The Extra Day"... and that's exactly what I did. Took an "extra" vacation day to be in this gig.

Visions of Frederico Fellini wafted through my egotistic mushy brain. Half expecting some surrealistic dreamscape as my background -but as it turned out, it was Times Square's bustling crowd across the street from TKTS and in front of McDonalds on a relatively gray and chilly Monday. Very close to where my paying-job takes place!

Fabio Volo

The love story was based on a book written by the main actor, Fabio Volo. Apparently he loses a letter that was meant to be sent to a girl he needs to meet. But having lost the envelope with all the pertinent info about her -he is lost. Fortunately for him, a hot dog vendor finds the letter and intercedes in some way to bring them together -albeit after some comical romps.

Massimo Venier

We were taken to this set and summarily selected for the "hot dog vendor scene"! My luck still held out as the director, Massimo Venier, chose me (most likely because of my long beige scarf). They wanted someone who was wearing "something light colored" as opposed to the drab blacks and grays that most of us sported (as per wardrobe instructions in our call sheets).

And so it was me and the "intermediary star" of this film, the hot dog vendor, who would be the centerpiece of the film maker's camera lens... and the gawking tourists, at least for an hour or two! I kept fantasizing about my co-workers walking by -alas, that didn't happen!

The direction was to have the vendor serve me a hot dog on a bun (I never eat that stuff -but then, that's part of acting strange) -and as I accept it, he sees some signage on a van that he must note down immediately. I fiddle with my pockets -vainly searching for some change while he mugs surprise and intense discovery. Our exchange is friendly enough, but I suspect the only thing that will be in the film is my hand accepting the hot dog... if that much!?

After wrapping up, I headed for the train -down the same path I usually take for my regular job and soon get a call from my agent. She asked if I could be available for tomorrow because they wanted me back... since they didn't get the shot... since it was getting too Autumn-dark.

Such are the foibles of rescinding Daylight Savings Time: night comes too quickly (especially to my movie career). I was already booked to do something else... and couldn't return.

A Russel Brand of ARTHUR for 2011

2010-07-27T23:14:00.011-04:00

A very different Arthur from the one in the 1980's... Russel Brand kept sniffing "booze" from a plastic water bottle in order to keep his "spirits up" -so to speak. And as the wedding scene wore on through the day and into the night at New York City's St. Bartholomew's, Russel became totally inebriated -which made his "strip scene" a totally fall-down drunk success!

(When the movie came out, I got a few microseconds of face-time.)

Yes folks. Russel took it down to his blue "tidy whities" for the big finale! And managed to prance back onto the set to do it over and over and over... ugh...and over again. Supported through it all by our background "noises of aversion" as wedding guest extras.

It was the big "rebellion" scene. But quite frankly, it was Jennifer Garner who made the most of it all. Walking elegantly down the aisle with her "daddy" played by Nick Nolte. And later as the punch-throwing angry bride in response to Arthur's objection to their wedding at the altar.
When I first saw Nick Nolte, his powerful role from Rich Man/Poor Man immediately popped into my mind. And of course the subsequent newspaper stories about his substance abuse and rapid decline from his heyday as a strong actor. His presence as Jennifer's tough-guy father dressed in a fancy tuxedo was way too passive. But looking into his face just a few feet away from us was memorable. More so for me because he resembled my Uncle Louie -and for a few moments I was lost in those fond memories of playing chess with my now deceased relative.

I was hoping that Helen Miren (as Arthur's faithful and worldly butler) would be there also -but alas (and a definite lack), the scene did not call for it. However, there was a cute bridesmaid at the altar who resembled Maggie Gyllenthaal a lot. So much so that I needed verification that it wasn't her, from my daylong companion on my left, Christine. Christine was very definite: NO! that's not Maggie. Nonetheless, I kept staring at the poor actress all day -perhaps in hopes that Christine was wrong!?

In the vein of my personal philosophy regarding the best seat in the house (personal quote: "The real show goes on backstage!") was most brought to life during this stint. Primarily because of the kookie couple sitting behind me doing the "running commentary routine" about every moment with the stars. They violated every rule in the "extras book" and took photos of everything with their phone-cameras as the scene was being set up, being filmed -and pretty much at any time they pleased. Their phones would jingle at odd times... they'd carry on conversations while filming was ongoing and chat with the actors between takes... etc. AND NO ONE EVER CALLED THEM OUT FOR IT! The usual "punishment" for getting caught taking pictures or bugging the stars is instant ejection from the set. But the stars were generous with their time and attention to the extras -so, as it turned out, everyone had a great time.

In one instance Jennifer took advice from one of the "wedding guest" extras sitting on the aisle regarding the necessity for everyone to "stand up during the bride's walk" down the aisle. Jennifer openly spoke to the director, Jason Winer...
...and the correction was immediately instituted. Later Jennifer saw that we were beginning to nod off from our long stint inside St. Bart's not-so-comfortable pew sitting, so she asked us to do the "WAVE" (you know, the one done at baseball games) -and it worked. We were all a bit more alert for the final takes, at the end of which, Russel (covered by a robe), gave a short "thank you to the extras" speech. That was unexpectedly nice (given his sniffed-up mental state)... but we were all very tired and, while appreciative of the recognition, ran out of the building to stand on the voucher line, which was now hundreds of extras long. The total stint was from 7:AM to 9:PM. And we, non-union extras, only got treated to a cup of water and an apple -and a walkaway lunch (read: buy your own) from the chincy Warner Brothers.

RUBICON bears crossing at AMC

2010-05-09T14:30:00.006-04:00

James Badge Dale and Miranda Richardson

My agent finally sent a bunch of castcall notices, one of which was for an upcoming summer TV series called Rubicon. She’d been out sick for quite a few months, leaving us to dig in the dirtpile offerings of Craigslist. With Craigslist you never know what’s reputable and what’s not. Unfortunately, the “what’s not” portion is the larger pile. So when my agent’s notices arrive I’m relieved to know that it’s a real gig.

I did my usual research of what the series was about and clipped a few pix from the internet of the principal actors (so I’d know who they are when I’m on the set). I find that by doing this little chore, I’m looked upon as the “more experienced one” among my fellow background peers during our chats. For some reason, very few bg people do this –but I find that it gives a much greater appreciation of the work I’m involved in.

It was a 10:00 AM call near the South Street Seaport. But this was only for checking in and getting your wardrobe approved. We could either wear a dark suit or a tux. I brought both and was approvingly told that the suit I was already wearing was perfect. The wardrobe guy asked if I had a comb. This was a question I hadn’t ever been asked yet. But when I answered in the affirmative, I was told:

“Good! Just keep combing yourself every now and then.”

And an hour later we were taken to the set near Wall Street. It was an old building with old-money furniture. We were to be background guests in a drawing room at a cocktail reception for a millionaire’s fund-raiser. The plot of the series was about a young think-tank worker who discovers that the organization he’s working for is somehow involved with influencing word affairs (in many ways similar to another TV series called “Alias”). Be that as it may, I was paired up with a distinguished looking gentleman with a long silver ponytail. While chatting, he told me that he was a well to do businessman selling cosmetic products and that he’d done some bit parts but wasn’t a member of SAG yet. One of his anecdotes dealt with an altercation he had with Julia Roberts. Apparently Julia was snippy to him and he told her off. Probably an argument over the SAG vs. non-SAG people at the lunch counter.

The principals in the scene were Miranda Richardson and James Badge Dale (lead). But as the scene kept getting shot from different angles, a couple of other familiar looking actors joined the entourage of principals. And this is where things started to get frustrated –because we’ve seen these minor actors before but we just didn’t know their names… and the problem was that none of the crew knew them either. Angst! The good news is that my co-starring extra and I were positioned close to the action –right where the principals were walking by. Then suddenly one of the PA's came over to clarify the "unknown" actor's name: David Rasche -a very active actor (most recently in Ugly Betty). And the other one was Arliss Howard, who plays Ingram, JBD's boss on the show.

Anyway, it was episode #5 entitled “Connecting the Dots”… and the airing date will be around late August – September 2010 on the AMC channel. And I, for one, will be crossing the Rubicon (unless I wind up on the cutting-room’s floor)!

Epilogue:The episode aired Sunday, 8/22/2010:

As James Badge Dale walks by on the left, I'm chatting with the silver-haired gentleman on the right. Even got a decent closeup...yesssssss!

EPILOGUE: During my stint on Man on a Ledge, as I was waiting for my car to be brought out of the garage, there was a man in front of me on his cell phone saying "...and RUBICON got cancelled!". And sure enough... sadly, it was.

Denis Leary does a RESCUE ME in Rockaway

2009-11-21T13:49:00.008-05:00

Rockaway has suddenly become THE place for shooting films and TV shows. A few months ago Jennifer Aniston was seen on a set there and last Thursday it was RESCUE ME with Denis Leary.

Denis, being the female-friendly person that he is, stopped in for a couple of photo-ops at the place that they were filming near... which happened to be my wife's workplace. Needless to say, the women lined up for a quick pose.

Saw God of Carnage on Holloween

2009-11-07T18:43:00.007-05:00

James Gandolfini gets "mobbed" for autographs!

I expected a heavy and brooding play going into the theater. After all, other than Jeff Danels, the other three actors are seldom in anything but dramatic roles. So I was pleasantly surprised when the "your kid hit my kid" theme metamorphosed into a comical "Who's Afraid of Virginia Wolf" scenario.
Excellent acting all around from each of them. And what I really liked a lot, was that each actor had an even amount of script to make the best of... and they did!

After the play, we did the stage-door Johnnie and Janie thing. Waiting outside for an hour just to get their autographs. Marcia Gay Harden was very funny, kidded with us and got into the Halloween mood with a green wig. Hope Davis began signing autographs but was distracted by her friend, Andrea Martin (Aunt Voula from My Big Fat Greek Wedding). Jeff Daniels was very accomodative to all the fans and it was really a blast to see all of these great actors scribling autographs just a few feet away from us -responding to quick chit chats and posing for photos.
Generally I don't go for autographs or hang around the theater stage doors. But my wife gets a charge out of it and it rubs off on me. Very strange and a different atmosphere from times when I'm an extra -and the main actors are off-limits to us. And it's interesting to note that it's possible to enjoy both type of situations -albeit in different ways.

DAMAGES don't show on Martin Short

2009-10-05T18:26:00.013-04:00

There are days when it just gets better and better to be an extra. Today was one of those!
(Episode 1 aired on 1/25/2010: I'm the bodyguard in the trenchcoat.)

Holding was at the prestigious Salamagundi Club for American Art. A historical place located in the brownstone section of downtown's 5th avenue between 11th and 12th Streets. Many famous artists were members here, including Winston Churchill, R.B. Fuller, Al Hirschfeld...etc. The perfect crossroads for our mutually artistic endeavors here. Our set was one brownstone away...at #47. Thus I was now part of the 3rd season of DAMAGES.

The scene was explained to us as one in which a Bernie Madoff-like character, named Taubin (Len Cariou), was coming out of his home and a couple of shots ring out... everyone ducks! EXCITING...

I was dressed in my suit and new Ralph Lauren trench coat, which I had just taken off so I can rest from my walk over from 8th Avenue, when we were summoned to go outside and be "onlookers" for the shooting crime scene. Obviously, they were shooting the aftermath of the melee first. So I decided to put on my glasses and amble out from the comfortable chat room that our holding area had become. I was immediately selected to be put on the sidelines and be more of a gawker from a distance near the "taped off crime scene". I must have been a pretty good blurr -along with the 20 or so others around me, because it was a quick take. Back to holding.

A few minutes later they wanted "reporters"...so I put on my trench coat and went on line for the associated props -surrendering my drivers license as collateral. I received a press badge, a pad and pen, and... a digital recorder. Needless to say we extras had a lot of fun with interviewing each other (and thereby getting into character). I "interviewed" one of the young women who liked to share stories about movies she had been in. My questioning went like this:

Q: What movie were you in the last time you were an extra?
A: I was in "A Couple of Dicks"...with Bruce Willis and Tracy Morgan.

Q: Did you get to see both Dicks?
A: Yes... I saw both...

CUT!

And we were called to the second scenario. Again, I was immediately picked to be one of about a dozen reporters surrounding Martin Short as he makes a public statement about his client, Tobin. As we're practicing how to jut out our hand-held recorders and microphones toward our target... Martin Short walks into our midst and says a couple of non-challant "Hello"'s.

Although I had seen Martin Short's character in the previous season of Damages, I did not expect him to be so serious in person. After all, this was the immensely talented comic of Saturday Night Live, creating numerous funny characters that bent you over with uncontrollable laughter (my favorite was Ed Grimley). So it was a bit difficult to adjust to the properly coiffed and impeccably suited character portrayed by the "new Martin Short". But I accepted it... how could you not, being 2 feet away from him and watching him practice his lines with a disturbingly stoic face. At the end of his monologue (aka: "statement to the press") he dismisses all of us with "no further questions"... and we are directed to yell after him with a futile attempt to get more legalese utterances. The scene was shot quite a few times until Todd Kessler, the director was satisfied.
I realized that this was the closest I'd ever been to an actor without being introduced. I was kwelling! It can't get any better than this.

Oh YES it can!

When we were told to come out for the third scene, I was (again) immediately picked to "go stand over there -next to that other gentleman". And as I met up with my new African-American gentleman friend, we began a friendly banter. He was about my height, had a white beard, and said he worked with rappers like "Fiddy Cent". Kewl! And as we were chatting it up...a couple of major director-types came up and told us we were being "promoted". Took our "press badges", and gave us "secret service earplugs with the curly wire connected to our shirts". We two were selected to be "Madoff's/Taubin's" body guards. And then we were ushered up the brownstone steps and into the entrance area where we were now introduced to Martin Short, and the elderly actor, Len Cariou, who plays Taubin... and Todd Kessler himself. All of them shook hands with us. Now that's a promotion I've yet to experience!

Our direction was to go out to the oncoming rush of reporters. My fellow body guard would go first, followed by Martin Short with "Taubin" behind, and then me -with all of us shooing the reporters out of our way WHEN, suddenly a couple of shots ring out and we all crouch down on the steps in abject terror of whatever may have happened. The scene went well... numerous times. But the director wanted "Just one more...just for FUN!". Naturally we obliged. But I had developed a kind of rhythm all my own of just how a body guard should behave. And so, after each shot rang out, while everyone else was hiding their heads -I stuck mine up...with a menacing glance to see "where the shots came from". I was sure I would be told to "hide" my prominence with the others -but miracle of miracles, it was acceptable each time. So there's a good chance that I may see myself on this episode. One problem, I forgot to ask which episode this was. Oh well, there's always HULU in case I miss it.
I went to see Carrie Fisher's "Wishful Drinking" over this past weekend and she was terrific. I mention this because her wonderful performance was inspiring in terms of "facing up to your life" (not to mention reprising it every night on the stage). And the connection is that both Carrie's one-woman-play "life story" and DAMAGES are... damaged. Both reveal a psychologically disturbing undertone that is the real driving force for the surface story of their respective main characters. The difference is that Carrie's is real, and DAMAGES' is only for a few seasons. Comparatively speaking, an extra's life, at least, remains intact. No waivers, thank you.

Sean Penn plays a FAIR GAME

2009-05-27T20:15:00.020-04:00

Sean Penn & Naomi Watts

The Bronx? It's shooting in the Bronx? I haven't been there since I got lost as a cab driver during my college years on the labyrinthine roads that crisscross the outer reaches of New York City. Oh well... I just had to see what Sean Penn was really like in person -so I took the gig.

There were 2 scenes that were being shot at Lehman College. One was to be a speech given in the gym at the sad-history-making college known as Ohio State. Four students were shot there by our National Guard back in the 60's. Today it's a magnet for political outspokenness. This is where Ambassador Joseph Wilson, played by Sean Penn, makes a poignant speech to students and faculty about the importance of doing our duties as responsible citizens and to speak out when there is injustice.

Mr. & Mrs. Wilson (not from Dennis the Menace)

Fair Game is based on the book of the same name -written by Wilson's wife, Valerie Plame. Valerie's role was given to Naomi Watts -who, unfortunately for us, was not in these scenes.
It's a fascinating story involving the political machinations of the George Bush administration and the Wilsons' court battle against the Chaney crew during the early invasion years of Iraq (circa 2003). The movie is set to be released in 2010.

After we were taken to the gym, and rehearsed for our reactions to Sean Penn's soliloquy... LUNCH was served! Interesting. I would have thought that we'd be going right into the scene while our cues were fresh in our minds. And after lunch we were arranged into our bleacher-seats and told to Shhhhhhhhhhh.

The door opened on the left side and Sean entered to a silent gym... the guy behind me whispered "...there's the man...in person...he has entered..." Needless to say the mostly-young crowd was gaga over the cantankerously demanding actor's presence. I almost laughed out loud but was afraid of immediate ejection -so I looked up at the ceiling and the walls...and regained my composure. Director Doug Liman

Doug Liman was the director. Not quite as clean shaven as his photos are on the web. A likable person who knows how to interact with difficult personalities as well as to joke around with the likes of the post-pubescent extras. At one point he wanted a natural reaction from us and prodded us to answer a mostly obscure question from Sean's monologue. Specifically: "Does anyone really know the first batch of words from the State of the Union Message?" Naturally, we all went "Whaaa....Wheeere....Whoooooah...." -when Doug revealed that "Perfect! You were all on camera with your natural reactions! Thank you all." Cute.

And then it was show-time. Sean began his lines, pacing on the podium...when all of a sudden, he halted as the number-4 train went rumbling by outside...every few minutes...interrupting the sensitive Sean's concentration -and he forgot his lines; prompting him to yell out at the script girl in frustration, "LINES!" After a few of those train passages, he announced "...and I'd like to thank the 'brilliant' person who scouted this location...Ahemmmmm...". He was definitely pissed.

Nonetheless, after a few frustrating pauses and sips of liquids, he regained his composure and continued like a trooper -for the next 3 hours. Repeating and repeating the takes until he was showing some exhaustion. Doug, the director, obliged and rode the camera dolly for as long as he had to... back and forth -right in front of me. My only hope of being spotted in this scene would be from the steady cam at the opposite side of the gym while Doug was not eclipsing me. A third camera remained in one place from the right side. Sean finally left -with a modicum of satisfaction.

Scene 2 would take place in Lehman College's concert hall (adjacent to the gym). Hmmm...Seattle was just next door to Ohio in movieland, so we didn't have to walk too much in the drizzling rain that was now coming down on the political set.

I was seated next to two young women. One was more responsive to my dopey quips between takes so we developed a comfortable cammaraderie and felt at ease chatting it up and exchanging observations while Sean was up on the stage greeting "Viet Nam veterans". Our direction was to get up from our seats when Sean ended his appearance and walk to the back of the auditorium. A walk that we had to repeat a dozen times. I chalked it up to some well-needed exercise. Not so for the girl 2 seats from us, who had a sprained leg and had to hold a "peace symbol". Trouble was, she didn't know which end was supposed to be up on the symbol. I was cracking up laughing in irony. Here we are in 2009, in a political film, and the new generation has no idea what that 1960's symbol is about! But protest with it, she did! Now that's acting... strange, but acting nonetheless.

And this too hath passed. The scene was over and Sean left the stage to our honest applause. To which he clasped his hands and "namaste'd" a "Thank You" with a... surprise, surprise... A SMILE! So he wasn't a grumpy old dickhead after all... he really could smile. I had to admit that I respected the way he worked. He did his acting well and completed the job to the best of his attempts... train sounds not withstanding. Bravo Sean.

After wrapping up, I packed my changes of clothes, said my goodbye's to my new friends and my old friends - and rode the No. 4 train past the new Yankee Stadium and back to "toidy-toid street"... a seemingly much faster ride home from the Bronx than I'd ever expected. And I didn't get lost this time.

[EPILOGUE: Went to see the movie in late November 2010 with my wife. Not surprisingly, the "How many of you know my wife's name?" soliloquy location WAS RELOCATED to some quiet realm. Probably where there are no subway noises to interrupt Sean's performance. I know this because there were red courtains shown in the movie and I know for certain that there were none in the Lehman College's gym!? As for the movie... it was ok. The best scene being the one at the end where Naomi Watt's character begins to speak into the congressional microphone... and the scene cuts to the real Valery Plame's testifying presence from real news footage.]

BACK for more

2009-04-06T22:18:00.013-04:00

And that's in fact what I keep doing... along with the rest of my background buddies. This time it was for a CBS pilot about a NYC guy who "returns" 8 years after he disappeared in the 9/11 attack. The pilot is aptly named "BACK"... at least for me.

My agent graciously put me on the call-sheet as one of the early numbers -so I had to show up on Palm Sunday at 5:30 AM in the Wall Street Chinese restaurant that was designated as our holding area. Not a bad place. Clean, comfortable and for most of us, barely utilized. We were taken to the set very quickly and used for the next 6 hours without a break -in the cold windy streets of downtown Broadway. Un-f*** beliveable! And me without eating any breakfast!! Now I understand why union-actors are so necessary on the set.
(I took this photo...and others, on my way to work at the World Financial Center on 9/11/2001)
But once the hunger pangs vanished... I realized where I really was. The initial shoot was by the charging bull landmark. I had walked these very streets on 9/11 in my attempts to get home. I took pictures of the bull covered in ashes then... and the streets around it looking like they would after a snow storm. Except it wasn't snow, it was the aftermath of NYC's worst tragedy in history... my personal flashbacks of that day now kept resurfacing. And so I realized how this "pilot for CBS" was a piece of my life as well. I was also... "back"!

The star of the show was Skeet Ulrich -a former principal in the TV apocalyptic series called, JERICHO. He looked pretty cool as a man who sauntered up Broadway as though he had come out of a coma and everything was "strange" to him. That "strangeness" was depicted by him passing a bunch of goth-teens, a pregnant woman, a kissing couple - and a woman who resembled someone familiar, perhaps his wife. Our background task was to pass by in a NYC-rush mode as he took his time walking.

The director, Mark Pellington was very involved with participating in the type of effect he wanted from this scene. At one point he took the steady-cam and started experimenting with it... walking all over the place in a "camera's POV" substitution for the actor. His large stature was immediately noticeable along with his thick glasses and crescent-faced jaw. But, interestingly enough, his style wasn't overbearing, as one would expect. It was more clandestine in many respects. He once went in back of us extras standing on line for the stunt bus -and had the PA go in front of us while he pointed to some of our backs. Indicating which ones he wanted to remain. The PA would do the talking for him in front of us.

Luckily, I was one of the 6 chosen who would be put on the bus. I was no longer freezing my butt off in the windy streets with the rest of the poor actors. I was now sitting inside a warm bus -qwelling at my good fortune. And my fortune got better. One of the supporting actresses, Kerry O'Malley, a beautiful redhead, was slated to be in this scene. Her direction was to be the last one on the bus line outside - give a lingering look...and then board the buss. Right in front of ME! And since the scene had to be repeated a few times, once she got on the bus, she would take her shoes off and rub her cold feet to get them to warm up. At one point she looked up and gave me a big smile... Flashback: Hungary...pre-1956... I remembered one of my mother's young clients who came to her for dresses... her name was Erzsi... very friendly... she escaped with us across the border to freedom. And this actress looked very much like her. After a while the scene re-shoots ended -the actress left and we were told to remain on the bus for a while. Most of us fell asleep from our long ordeal without a food break.

Soon afterwards we were told to return to holding. One of the PA's read off 40 random choices of people who were still needed for the remainder of the afternoon. Most of us were not among them and were happy to be checked out. I had entertained thoughts of lingering in the neighborhood for old times sake but decided that I'd rather go home and prepare myself a tasty meal in the comfort of my house. Pretty much the way I felt back on 9/11.

Epilogue:
After browsing the web to see what ever happened to this pilot, I found the following comment-

"MMur10k: Fri, Mar 19 2010 at 5:09 AM EDT
'Back' was never picked up which is a shame as it was a great concept...
-most things go to pilot and then they're optioned or not optioned. As you can see most pick ups are formulaic or remakes."

2nd Season Finale for DAMAGES

2009-01-10T17:22:00.016-05:00

The blurry patron in the background is... me! (aired: 4/1/2009 in the final episode)

It was the beginning of my real-life working week when lo-and-behold an email from my "agent provocateur", Desiree, had arrived with an offer to be an extra on the second season of DAMAGES! That was great timing since my wife and I just saw the 2nd season premier of the show recently. And it was on a weekend shoot, so I didn't have any conflicts... well, not much. There was supposed to be 6 inches of snow falling that day, changing to ice rain with freezing temperatures... and the shoot was going to be outside. Pshawwww! Piece of cake.

The email was only a few minutes old so I was pretty confident that I'd get the booking if I responded quickly enough. A quick check with the wife and I was "cleared for takeoff"!

The call time of 6:30 AM in Brooklyn Heights was not as easy to make as I thought it would be. PARKING is a miraculous accomplishment in that area. But after 20 minutes of circling around in the pre-dawn streets I found a spot that was just barely legal from the ubiquitous restrictions signs. I got out and grabbed my wardrobe paraphernalia and began my 3 block trek to holding. En route I passed the HEIGHTS CAFE. It was surrounded by lights and crew and I figured that was the set. I flagged down one of the walkie-talkie guys and asked where holding was. Since he was headed there himself, we walked together. After starting up a little chit-chat with him, I found out that Glen Close was not going to be in this scene at which point I had an inkling that my favorite alternate-actress, Rose Byrne, would nevertheless be there. As it turned out, I was right on the money. Oh Happy Day!

Holding was on Remsen Street, a large well lit and WARM room in one of the local churches. Inside, I settled down by myself at one of the tables when I saw a friendly face from the corner of my eye. It was Owen, from the Fashion Rock and Verizon gigs. We immediately clicked and lamented about our past few-and-far-in-between jobs during the past year. And then we were quickly assembled and called to the set -it was time to go to work.

The first scene had to do with all of us walking all over the intersection outside of the Heights Cafe (wherein Rose Byrne was sitting -later to be joined by Tate Donovan). We did this on and off for about an hour in the cold air. Luckily I was dressed in my business suit and warm trench coat. My buddy Owen, was unfortunately in a casual hoodie and was feeling frosty after a while.

Our dizzy parading had ended -it was to provide realism for the activity outside the cafe, and we were told to return to holding. Ah! Warmth again... and let's not forget about the bathroom's comfortably relieving environs either.

When I exited the WC (wasser-closet), I heard the PA telling everyone to switch into our alternate wardrobe: the business casual "acceptably shlumpy" look. I was puzzled! Was that all they wanted out of my business suit? So I went over to the PA and asked for verification. She immediately got on the horn and a second later (really...one second), she said "they need you back on the inside of the set". Wow... talk about a squeaky wheel getting oiled, I zoomed out of holding and down the street only to be catching up to three other perspective returnees ambling down the block toward the coveted set.

When we got there, we all went inside the cafe which on the inside was turned into a jumble of lights and cables and a wild mix of various levels of directors and assistants. One of them immediately ushered us out of the warm belly of the beast and so we wound up waiting outside in the cold for him to get back to us. Tick, tock,... Graciously, the wait was relatively short and our new "handler" gave us all the once-over-look. We all knew the excruciating routine -WHO WOULD HE PICK? WHO GETS THE PRIZE?

Finally, after a looooong "Ummmmm", the Jason Lee-look-alike pointed to me and one of the women to go in and be "placed" on the set. We ambled through the light poles and thick cabling onto the main area where the two of us were seated in a horse-shoe shaped booth, ready with breakfast settings. Alas, my female companion's stint was short lived. For some reason, maybe the green sweater, she was asked to leave and I was placed into her seat. The seat that was directly in line with the back of Rose Byrne's head, Tate Donovan's face and the DP's camera lens. Yesssssssssssss!

Tate Donovan

My direction was to be a lone businessman-patron in the background who is reading the paper while nibbling on his breakfast. Simple enough, but after take-1 I was told to "put the phone down"! I was incredulous at the director's direction so I challenged him: "What phone? Where? I don't have a phone!" I blurted out at the injustice of the apparent criticism. But it was just his way of telling me to put my left hand down from my ears (where I usually cradle my head when I'm having breakfast!?). He told me to not worry and "eat occasionally -it's real food, drink OJ every now and then" and make sure I don't make any "background noises"... !

What's he accusing me of now, inadvertent flatulance? Oh yeah...he meant the fork and glasses shouldn't be heard in the microphone during my motions.

After the 2nd and 3rd take, I was complemented with making it look "very natural" and "perfect"! (Damn! I'm good.)

Director Todd Kessler

But of course, my attention between takes was on the principals. Tate Donovan looked real skinny and much younger in person than on TV. He was good with his lines and the well directed blocking. Rose Byrne had her head back to me...but I noted that she blew her lines once or twice and she was disappointed in herself. The director, Todd Kessler would crouch down at her table and provided a few serious-faced instructions between takes. Later, after the scene was completed, Rose stood up -a shapely figure, almost in silhouette against the cafe's bright window -and gave a glance my way. There was a nanosecond of a moment with eye-contact between us as she paused and then went past my booth to her own holding area in the back. She has alluringly sad eyes-but then that may have been a part of "remaining in character".

The scene: The character of Ellen Parsons, who is trying to warn Tate's character, Tom Shayes regarding the impending doom about to befall their treacherous boss, Patty Hewes (Glen Close). Tom, of course accuses her of being crazy and storms out of the restaurant. End of scene. Later on I learned that this was part of the last episode a.k.a. "the season finale"! Whew...I just made it. Albeit, a 3rd season has reportedly been agreed to by the powers that be.

The third scene dealt with walking down a busy street. I was paired with an elderly woman who had been a SAG extra for quite some time and during the takes we shared the usual stories about our respective adventures as extras. She was recently on the Conan O'Brien show, photographed as a granny who was run down by Santa's reindeer. She was extremely good natured and very comical in describing the positions that she was contorted into for the photo shoot. Talking with her made the discomforts of the cold weather negligible -I would have loved to hear more.

The shoot was done -there was no snow, rain or ice, and we returned to holding where they were setting up for lunch. Unfortunately, we were told that our 4 hour stint was enough and we could leave! And that, of course immediately triggered my hand to reach for my "exit voucher", putting me in first place (a career first) on the sign-out-line. I bid farewell to Owen...and was home in 45 minutes. Just in time to hear my wife tell me that we were getting together with our cousins for ... what else, LUNCH!

Summer Stock Spectating

2008-08-03T13:56:00.027-04:00

Patty Smyth (photo: me)

Patty Smyth performed at a local Long Island park with her band Scandal to a great turn out (as far as Long Island summer turnouts go). From the roadie-side of the gentle plastic fence, she was giving out autographs to about 5 kids -so I went over and just barely got to snap off a digital shot, as she excused herself, waved a quick "I'll be back in 5 minutes..." (aka: lemme-outahere) ... and got ready for the show.
At 51, she was fantastic...constantly jumping all over the stage, wading -make that lounging, with the audience -perfectly confident and at ease with herself. That self having been in the business for 30 years, marrying John McEnroe of tennis-bad-boy fame...and raising as she puts it, "...six friggin kids..". But man, does she ROCK!!!

Suzanne Vega (photo: me)

My wife had a chance to grab a couple of tickets for the Suzanne Vega - Marc Cohn billing at the Wesbury Music Theater (aka: Bank-something-or-other theater) and I managed to get a photo of the demure Mz. Vega while she was signing her CDs.

Maroon 5's Adam Levine (photo: me)

Bryant Park in NYC has been showcasing a fantastic batch of talent. And each Friday, I take an early train to work, just so I can catch the various acts -hence becoming part of the background decoration for ABC's morning show. In the summer I like to grab an ice coffe and an almond crossant a block away from the park so I can be nourished enough to quell properly. I try to take my camera along but occasionally forget -those are the times I kick myself the hardest. Nonetheless, I manage to take a couple of shots -and when I can't... I troll the internet for someone who could! Maroon5's Adam Levine was on the Good Morning America temporary stage. This guy has some kind of built-in charisma and he can't help but continues to satisfy. Watching him perform and interact with the band and the audience, creates a mezmerizing sensation. I could sense the audience of work-force groupies agreeing with me.

Jaclyn Smith in Times Square (photo: me)

Jaclyn Smith is starting a new REALITY TV SHOW (oh boy...yet another way to get people over their inhibitions). It will have something to do with hair cutting and restyling people's hair. The best hair-designer wins?

Well... it could work! Anyway, the former Charlie's Angel was stunning as she sat there posing with models of various sexes -at Times Square's Military Island. I especially liked the way her partially open (let's face it, mostly open) blouse was constantly playing with my libido. The guy next to me was holding a small furry dog. As Jaclyn came closer to our tribe of gawkers, I motioned to her to look at the dog and pose with it. I caught her attention and she took one look at the fuzzy-wuzzy in my chit-chat buddy's clutches and immediately reached out to the man, who gratefully sacrificed his "best friend" for the impromptu photo-op. Jaclyn posed, pursed her lips, cuddled the creature and promplty returned it to my fellow oogler. I hope the show works...otherwise it's back to the dogs.

Cyndi Lauper was wearing a biker-type leather jacket and she appeared to be very young with her Camron Diaz haircut (or maybe the facelift). Either way -she still sizzles...and when she comes down into the audience...WOW! She's a treat...and then some!!!
Countng Crows' frontman, Adam 'Duritz, is an energetic talented dude...but the hairstyle is getting tiresome. This guy needs a new image -BIG TIME. Maybe I should send him towards Jacqueline's way?
Miley Cyrus (photo: me)

I've never seen Bryant Park soooooo filled up with teenie boppers and their parents. It was mayhem by the time I got there, so I put my camera on digital zoom and got a shot of Miley's backside. That was about as close as I could get from the sidelines I used to call trees and shrubbery. The poor park was trampled by the pre-pubescent hordes... albeit they were all well behaved. The cops, after all, had their crowd-control gear on! I have to be honest about her performance...I liked the dancers and her moves but I never got into the tunes... perhaps it was strictly on the level of the kiddies around me. Oh well, I was spared -at least Barney the Dinosaur didn't show up. In the words of Simon Cowel, "I expected more."

Other showcased groups that I saw were: Boyz II Men, One Republic, the Broadway company of RENT

Boyz II Men (photo: me)

One Republic (photo: me)

Company of RENT with Diane Sawyer and Sam Champion (photo: me)

There were times when my lack of "hipness" was becoming evident... I hadn't heard of One Republic until I recognized their signature hit -then all of a sudden---BAM!---I was hip again. The company of RENT blew me away though. I'd only been able to catch the movie but the songs, being performed live were connectingly meaningfull. I stayed an extra 10 minutes and got to work late just so I could hear another song. I'll be catching the rest of the Bryant Park fare as the summer's Friday's roll around... Now let's see what's on the agenda...Gloria Gaynor... Jonas Brothers...Donnie and Marie... Kidd Rock and Lynyrd Skynyrd finished the Good Morning America summer series. So I had to do my papparazo stuff in the theater district.

Gloria Gaynor - Jonas Brothers - Marie and Donnie (photo: me)

Kid Rock (photo: me)

Broadway was just letting out on Sunday afternoon when we got lucky and spotted a few celebs at the stage doors -signing autographs. The Boeing Boeing cast was great.

Christine Baranski (photo: me)

Mary McCormack (photo: me)

Mark Rylance (photo: me)

Bradley Whitford (photo: wife)

Kathryn Hahn (photo: wife)

I got a few pix of some of the Xanadu cast. They were very accomodating except for Tony Roberts. He wanted nothing of the crowd and totally ignored everyone, refusing to sign autographs. Nonetheless, I got a shot of him scooting away in the background. Whoopi Goldberg had a real sour puss on -for a comedienne, she had no sense of humor about her real self (bad day ath the hairdresser?), but she went through the scribling motions and gave everyone an autograph. She was very generous with her time and stayed until they were all signed. Cheyenne Jackson was the best -he poses with everyone (just ask him)!

Tony, Whoopi, Cheyenne and the gang (photos: me)

Well, I may not have worked much this summer as an extra, but I sure saw a lot of celebs and was lucky enough to get up close and impresonal. I keep checking my email for offers, and even dredge the internet for weekend extras work... but that's just not the way showbiz operates. As best as I can tell, there is very little work this summer for extras in NYC -forces are at work that have migrated the movie industry to Chicago -where the tax breaks are huge. So I consider myself lucky to be where I am: working the foreground in RL (real life) and spectating as an extra in the background.

Will Smith does a HANCOCK

2008-05-11T10:02:00.009-04:00

What do you suppose happens when you do a movie shoot with an extremely popular actor on a warm Spring Saturday night at the center of Times Square on Military Island with a kajillion tourists on a best value dollar exchange rate mulling about the grand canyon of billboards... hmmm?

...don't get me started!

Holding was at the Jaqueline Kenedy Onasis International H.S. on 46th Street -the very same street that I frequent for restaurants with my regular weekday work buddies. My "regular workplace" is just around the corner in the newly merged ThomsonReuters building -so I knew the neighborhood pretty well. This came in handy when I had to cut through some of the hotel buildings to escape the maddening crowds during our returns to our holding area from the set.

Inside the holding room, which was a freshly painted auditorium, it was very hot, so that people would wander outside to the crafty food stands and chow down a ton of food in their boredom of the usual waiting around. But friends started to show up. One buddy, whom I call "Supercabbie", from an anecdote he once expounded upon (he's a major "expounder") was saying "Hello girls!" to all the cute female passers-by. Then there was Canada Ann, whose loud hellos could be heard a mile away! Pete, the usually white-bearded guy was now a stylish brunette sans beard. He told me he had a Barbizon gig where he was selected for a shave and a hair-cut-dye job a few weeks ago. And of course a host of other terrific characters with whom I could chat hours on end exchanging stories from our showbiz adventures.
And then it was show time! They needed a bunch of people to go to Military Island and suround Will in adulation... We had to rush him... pay attention to him... ask for autographs...take pictures of him... (Can you believe this irony?).

Usually we are not even permitted to talk to the principals, but tonight, in the middle of the universe, we could break all those star-approach-taboos.

The reason for all this was because the character Will played, a fault-laden superhero named Hancock whose public image had been tarnished in the first half of the movie, was now being reaccepted by the general public... or something like that. Be that as it may, the scene was short but exciting. But as soon as Will showed his face -Time Square erupted... and everyone behind the police barricade wanted to rush our island -some made it!!!

And as Will approached us, the extras -our direction was that we were to look up, acknowledge him with glee and surround him... we were called the "core". Whoopy! I was now part of the core - but the only decent picture I could get of him was rushed, out of foucus and facing away from me. Dang!!! The tourists got better photos of Will than I could get. And now we were told to return to holding. I decided to go back on a different street, 45th Street, and thereby avoid the immovable crowd that was now coating every bit of surface on Broadway's Time Square. And as I reached the middle of the block, who should be running past me in the street but Will Smith himself -dressed in his leather hero suit, followed by his bodyguard handlers. WHOA! Where's my camera...fumble, fumble...and WHooooosh...Will should have been playing the FLASH because he was now a block away and probably safely ensconced in one of the 3 Haddad trailers that were parked at the end of the block. Dang again!!!

The lengths we extras will go to find ourselves on screen is amazingly conceited. That's me (greatly enlarged from the plasma screen) watching the "perp at the end of the movie" run by.

Later, the second scene of the night put us on a cordoned-off street in front of Toys-R-Us. About 15 of us were spread out as background for a scenario where a guy is running at top speed down Broadway while a bunch of police cars are chasing him and we react with a "What's going on?" attitude. Two takes and it was a wrap! Relatively quick work for a stunt scene.So now it was back to holding yet again, and standing behind 240 extras to get your voucher signed. Needless to say it was 3:30 in the morning when I got home... But the feeling that "I was back in action again" after 7 months of showbiz hiatus while still juggling my regular "bill-paying" job, was worth it all. I was missing that sensational involvement in something greater than the mundane... and the contact with the new friends I had made here. And somehow I realized that I will always return to it.

Made it to HOLLYWOOD

2007-12-26T00:49:00.000-05:00

But only to visit!

My new family, thanks to my new son-in-law, invited us to stay with them near LA and I was all too happy to oblige. Their wonderful hospitality was the highlight of our stay... in addition to meeting their friends (hundreds)... and of course the whirlwind tour of the nearby environs that so manny would-be actors would covet a glimpse of. I confess, I number among them.

Our wind blew through Ventura, Rodeo Drive, Huntington Gardens (complete with tea), and 2 very distinctly different Hollywood parties. One at the local Chabad House for the newly weds -where we got to meet some 200-plus guests and chow on some very excellent buffet food while watching a slide show of the nuptuals... and then there was the other party, a birthday party in the Hollywood Hills for a TV producer-cousin of my new family, where the entertainment was a beautiful transvestite Marilyn Monroe (I keep crossing paths with her imago every now and then). But the real attraction for me was the view from the hilltop house: SPECTACULAR! All the twinkly lights of the city seen from above. A lasting impression -fer shure!

There is a very seductive allure to California. Everyone is beautifull, usually tanned, wealthy, friendly, easy-going... and the weather is usually nice... the sights of the hills and the beaches constantly becon. And even the precipice-driving along Route 1 has a quality of grandeur. It's easy to want to live there. But although I really got to like my new family and would love to visit them often, I'm still a New Yorker -I need the gritty city, the in-your-face attitude, the quick pace... the wake-me-up-every-minute life.

Although... if a big movie-offer came along...well....

Made it to the Rainbow Room

2007-11-28T23:15:00.001-05:00

I work in the theater distric of Times Square and my daily walks to work have taken me past the strikers who have been out here for a couple of weeks protesting the fact that they're not getting paid for their share of contributions to the theatrical arts. I stopped to chat with one of them as a gesture of support -and perhaps to satisfy my longings for what I've now left behind.

2 months into my real-life full-time job, there's a holiday party which puts me on the 65th floor of 30 Rockefeller Plaza, also known as The Rainbow Room. The very same place that I had missed out on just a couple of months ago when I was doing my paparazzo gig for JLo at Radio City Music Hall.

Funny how life turned out! Here I am at this coveted area, eating sumptuous food and hobnobbing with my office buddies -drink in hand and gazing out through the hazy glass windows at the New York City skyline... my reverie takes off into the distance and I think back to the fantastic time I had just 2 weeks ago at my daughter's wedding. I danced, I drank, I rejoyced, I ate, I hugged and kissed my relatives and friends. A vast difference compared to this place where most people are just standing still listening to the blaring DJ'd music.

I spent an hour and decided to boogie out of the increasing crowd. Down the windy elevators of the RCA building, picking up my coat and scooting out into the tumultuous crowd awaiting the lighting of the Christmas tree. There would be some celebrities there to sing songs -but there was no allure. That part of my parallel life was now in denouement.

Tonight, on the news, they announced that the strike was over and everyone was going back to work. The stock market was going back up -and life is good again!

New Amsterdam in Brooklyn

2007-09-27T23:26:00.004-04:00

Williamsburg, Brooklyn - the new Greenwich Village... but only on the west-side of the Brooklyn Queens Expressway. A late season release for FOX-network TV, this sci-fi detective series was shooting this particular episode in the Brooklyn Beer micro-brewery. This will, I think, be the last gig for me... I've landed a major full-time job in NYC... in fact, in the very middle of NYC: Times Square! And the realization hits me that I have to leave all this fun and friends... yet again.

Oh well... let me get "into character" one more time.

(Episode 6 aired on 3/31/2008-with me in the background and the patriarch hood descendant, Theo Spoor (Larry Keith) in the front left.)

We were all mafiosi, attending a wake for a "dearly departed". And most of the extras picked for this role, really looked the part. Everyone was dressed in dark clothes and a somber attitude -with lots of laughs and chattings between the somber re-takes. I was paired up with Chris, who has been in this business (showbiz, not mafia), for the past 20 years. He was SAG and knew how to make between 20 and 30 thousand dollars per year, being an extra. He also explained something new to me: how to collect unemployment when not working in gigs... hmm! I never did that since I always thought these were only temporary jobs, and not really enough to garner unemployment checks. But Chris knew that they always deduct NY TAXES... and so... you can apply for UI. You learn something new in this business every day.

The star of the show was a foreign film star, Nikolay Coster Waldau -who resembled Dennis Leary... a lot! The director was Lasse Hallstrom (Chocolat, Cider House Rules... and husband of Lina Olin). Lasse was tall and bald. Which was strange, because in all of his internet photos, he has hair. Oh well, maybe I'll shave my head too one day when my hair gets too thin to do combovers!!
One of the guest stars that Nikolay played a scene with was Adam Storke (Mystic Pizza-1988). Apparently the two characters have a disagreement in the back of the wake-area and Niklay storms out (of the brewery). This is the scene where I was tapped to do a "walk-by".
One of the DP's came over to me and put me next to his camera. He then instructed me to start to do a "banana walk around" of the oncoming star. But the "oncoming star", Nikolay, came over to me also and pointed to the ground where there was a large white spot, saying "When I pass by that, YOU start to move...". WOW! A principal actually spoke to me -directly... with "direction" for the first time in my showbiz career.

I nodded in acknowledgement (he didn't look like he wanted to discuss the matter too much further...). And then the film rolled, ACTION! was called... we did the scene... and it was a wrap!!! Neat. It was a perfect take. The look on the star's face was bewildering. He had a disbelieving grin on his face as he rushed by me... without the slightest of a nod for a "job well done"! Sheeesh...
In the final cut I was literally a blur going past Nikolay as he pauses and looks up in recognition of a painting that he did a hundered or so years ago!

"LUNCH!" was called at around 8:PM and we did the caste-system-lineup: crew, SAG, us extras...
But there was plenty of good food so people could go back for seconds if they wanted to. Few of us did... we just piled it up into 3 plates on our first go-around! There was lot's of political chatter around our table which eventually melded into the aether. Evening had arrived and it was dark outside, so the bright flood-lights were brought into service. A few more scenes and we were wrapped for the day.

On the walk back to our holding area, a Russian orthodox church some 6 blocks away, people struck up conversations with each other. As I was ambling along, suddenly a hand with a cell-phone jutted in front of my face. A young blond girl was attached to it. She began a conversation with me saying: "That's my dog... look how cute she is in that position - my "Moms" just sent me this." It was a bright blob of light on her cell phone... I really couldn't make out the details of the picture shining in my eyes on her cell phone, but I went along with the impromptu conversation: "That's great! Tell me about your dog..." No problem there -she went into a monologue of sorts :
"She is just the best ever dog... got her from a shelter... hated to leave the shelter because you know what will happen to the others, but... my Moms wanted a smaller dog, but... and she is a 'waterdog' with webs between her toes... and she does these cute things like immitate the way I sit... I just love her...". Reminded me of this telephone commercial I once saw on tv -where a young prepubescent cheerleader-type teen goes on and on with run-on sentences while digressing about "...I love chewing gum..."!!! But this girl's demeanor of striking up a sudden friendship just like "that", caught me by surprise and I was feeling great about it... I began to filter out her talk and notice how pretty her face looked... and wondered what made her befriend me. Unexpected flirting like that hasn't happened to me since I was 16.

And then it was "wake-up time" -we arrived back at the holding area scattering to our respective seats as the check-out line for the voucher-signing began to form. I asked the PA doing the administration if I could have a "waiver" (after all, I did a 'banana-walkaround') -but all I got was a guffaw. So I packed up my stuff and shook hands with the guys around the table and Sara, my impromptu doggie-story-teller... and said good bye. I walked over to my car and blasted out of Williamsburg a millon miles above the Brooklyn Queens Expressway.

Jogging in Central Park for a LINCOLN Mercury commercial

2007-09-19T18:42:00.000-04:00

Yet another cushy gig... commercials generally are!

A car promo for Lincoln Mercury that had to have some elements of jogging and spectating hired about 60 of us to be extras in NYC's sunny Central Park. The director was Roger Michell, famous for his direction of the movie Notting Hill and the fallout from his sudden departure of not wanting to direct the 22nd James Bond film due to that old directorial demon: "creative differences". (Apparently there was no shooting date set nor was there a script!?!)

Our first assignment was to cheer the SAG runners from the sidelines. And then we had to change into our jogging outfits to run alongside a very iteresting young lady by the name of Sara. She had lost one of her limbs, a leg, but became an avid jogger utilizing a prosthetic attachment that looked like a curved metal band near the bottom and acted like a spring of sorts to give her an extra bounce as she jogged. She led the pack as we formed a wall of runners behind her while the camera-cart zoomed down the middle of our crowd. But in all the time that we were there, we never saw the Lincoln. Still wondering what the concept of the commercial is!?

A few more takes, and it was -"check the gates"...and "gates are good"... and "it's a wrap"!

Three hours worth of work for $175... and lots of laughs and gigles in between with the other extras. If only I could do this four times a week -like one of my fellow extras does. Alas, for me this was the first gig in 2 weeks. I still haven't mastered the skill of keeping the job-to-job connection work-flow going. It seems the trick is to register with multiple agencies that are getting most of the jobs... but which ones are they? Showbiz is a moving target... and although I got to run today, I still feel like I'm standing still.

I'm JLo's paparazzo at Radio City Music Hall

2007-09-07T18:21:00.001-04:00

(Source: Newsday 9/8/2007 - CLICK to enlarge)

Me... and about 49 others -dressed in "tough-to-see-you black"!

This is it... this has to be it. I've reached the epitome of my extra's career. I made it to Radio City Music Hall's stage in front of a live audience at a Rock Concert given for the glammy Fashion Industry! Whooo Hooooo!!!

We rehearsed on Tuesday, taped it on Thursday -and it's airing on CBS tonight! Now that's what I'm talkin' about -or will be talking about for eons to come.

It all started on Tuesday, when I got a last-minute email from my agent to go to a Jennifer Lopez gig at RCMH and to be a paparazzo. I immediately called my agent and we commiserated on how difficult it would be for me to get there for a 7:PM call time, and we hung up. But I just didn't want to let this one go... so I checked the LIRR schedule and figured that if I could catch a taxi as soon as I got into the city, I just might make it! So I called her back and she was encouragingly enthusiastic -giving me the "GO AHEAD! I'll submit your number to them so they'll expect you..."

CLICK! Whoooooooosh!!!

I was out the door and made the train in 5 minutes; 40 minutes later I rushed out of Penn Station and into a NYC cab (complete with a turbaned driver). It was the eve of a pending taxi strike but the driver was efficient and got me to 51st and 6th Ave in 10 minutes (that earned him $1/minute) -it was well worth it. I got to the check-in desk where they gave me an official "paparazzi" sticker and I was now part of this gig!

Entering the great hall with a different "air" than the usual concert-goer was exhilarating. After all, I was now someone on the "inside"... a participant, rather than an observer. We were seated on the left side of the audience seats and told to fill out a bunch of release and tax forms by our handler, Brooke. Later we were corralled up by our stage manager, Seth, who explained that he would be taking us up to the stage and handing us over to AJ, our choreographer... in about an hour or so. We didn't care how long it would take because Martina McBride was doing her number on stage and she was terrific. Wearing beige pants and a black top (slight hint of shiny leather on the shoulder area), she's about 5 foot tall but a great looking lady (having a Jane Russell-type of edge to her) with a powerful voice. We clapped spontaneously every time she sang. And then it was our turn to mount the stage.

Seth took us up on stage-right and we were promptly organized into size places by AJ. He divided us up into two groups and took us over to a metal podium of steps with a red carpet down it's middle. We were given cameras with flashes and lined up along the sides of the steps with orders to "shoot-on-sight". Needless to say, we shot each other up until we could see nothing but bright balls of light in our fields of vision. So that when JLo appeared at the top of the steps, we could only squint at her figure until our eyes returned to normal in the dark theater.

JLo was very friendly... said "Hello everyone....!" with a big smile, and then it was down to business. The dance steps had to be worked out by her entourage of dancers and we had to coordinate our movements with hers as she descended and ascended the steps -all the while snapping away with veracious zeal. AJ quickly corrected our enthusiasm: we would need to "freeze" ourselves whenever JLo and her dancers "froze"... and resume our activity when they renewed theirs as the number progressed along. So there we had it... clear instructions that would meld into chaos when the actual taping occurred... but it was o.k. -the number got rave reviews from the critics as a "high-concept". Some of the other performers didn't fare well with the critics -but I thought all the performers were really good, giving their best for the show.

Steven Tyler was the first to rehearse on Thursday -taping day! Unfortunately he wanted a "closed set" and that meant everyone had to leave the auditorium... even Seth and other Radio City Music Hall employees. Dang... here we were hoping to see everyone rehearse and we were all being kicked out... there goes the whole perk of this deal -or so we thought.

We were taken to the third floor dressing rooms. There were rows and rows of dressing room mirrors with the appropriate peripheral bulbs; we were seated next to each other, partitioning curtains flowing on either side of the narrow aisle. We dutifully took our respective seats and chatted... for about 5 minutes. There was no way that we were going to be sitting here for the next 9 hours!!! Most of us "snuck" out into the stairwell and into the black-background of backstage and whatever was going on there. It was just like in the movies where you have pretty dancing girls shimmying past you, costumed performers warming up, Tyra Banks decked out with a cell-phone constantly in her ears (we almost shared a ride up the elevator with her, but she just couldn't make up her mind weather to risk the disconnection from her cell phone -so she turned down the ride). After trying all the doors, me and another guy found ourselves on the side street... with "the red carpet" in front of us.

It was being set up for the decked-out glitterati who would be arriving as we chatted on. Hunger pangs overtook my friend and I accompanied him to a pizza shop down the block. Later, when we got back to the dressing room area to see if anything was happening and we saw 5 pizza boxes stuffed into the garbage. This was our "dinner", as promised by our stage manager. Not exactly sumptuous -glad I missed out on it. I preferred noshing on the veggie platter and the potato chips. We were told to stay put because the show was going to start in an hour... so this time, a bunch of us decided to go exploring the audience area. Two of the guys went up front and checked out the placards with the famous guests' pictures on it, depicting where they would be sitting. A young guy, dressed in a suit with a folder under his arms began chatting with them. I wasn't going to miss out on this and decided to brave going up front with the thought in mind that this guy was someone famous!?

As it turned out, he began to befriend us with small talk and then dropped an interesting offer:

"I'll give you guys $100 for your passes... how about it. You won't need them anymore...you're all inside. I just want to get a few of my friends in here... come on....how about it?"

Silence.

"How about $200... I'll give you $200 right now!!! But the offer is only good now... the closer we get to show time, the less they're worth..."

One of the guys took the deal immediately. He waited for the higher number -and got it. The other one was deep in thought... teeter-tottering in his decision... what should he do?

The pimpy-guy now offered to give his pass back after the show... and that seemed to have sweetened the pot enough to make him caved in.

He gave up on me... primarily because I had mentioned that I worked on a movie with DeCaprio and Winslet in our pre-offer conversations. When he offered me the money I told him I wanted the badge as a "trophy". But his impression of me became something like: "Ahhh! He's rich...he doesn't need the money... he works with big stars!!!"

How easy it is to become corrupted in this industry... it doesn't take much... a little dangle of money...some empty promises...and before you know it... you can lose yourself in the fantasy.

The show started, and we paparazzi decided to stay in the audience seats until it was getting close to our set. And it was the right choice... we saw all the glammy people begin to filter in...beautifully dressed sexy women, fancy duds on the dudes, and plenty of famous designers populated the halls at this spectacular mix of fashion and rock stars.

Steven Tyler and Arrowsmith started the show! YEssssss. We may have missed the rehearsals but now here we were in the audience, watching the "real performance"... the one that would be taped and shown on CBS-TV the following night. Everyone of the stars were fantastic... Fergie, Alicia Keyes, Usher, Mary J. Blige, Maroon 5, Jennifer Hudson, Joe Perry, Carry Underwood and Lindsay Buckingham, Miri Bar-Lev, Martina McBride, Avril Lavigne... AVRIL LAVIGNE!!!

Oh...oh...we had to scatter back into our area to get prepared for our paparazzi number with Jennifer Lopez!!! And suddenly, about 50 shadows popped up from the darkened audience to skittle through the music hall's backstage catacombs of stairs and elevators in preparation for our "centerpiece number". We made it just in time...Seth was taking attendance and was ready to dock people's pay if they weren't in place on time!

We were taken backstage. Given our flashy digital SLR cameras and as soon as the previous act completed, we were lined up along the stage in darkness, put into our places next to JLo's steps and braced for the curtain to raise... JLo genuflected!

The curtain went up... and as I turned my head I saw a sky-full of people sitting OUT THERE... wow...WOW -what a feeling! The thought zapped through my head that I was on stage in front of thousands (soon to be millions when it airs tomorrow on TV) and me and the others had to do this RIGHT or...

Oh piffle... I can't be bothered with thoughts like that -I've got a job to do...and do it we did! In fact the number's title was "DO IT WELL"... and the first words were "DO IT...DO IT". So the adrenalin kicked in and we all performed as a group... an amorphous black blob of men and women with twinkly flashes beckoning JLo's attention as she controlled the stage with her song, dancers... and her provocative presence. It was a terrific success -an explosive centerpiece for the Fashion Rocks festival... and the newspaper reviews validated it. WoW... again! I loved it.

After our number, we were told that we could do what ever we wanted to...watch the rest of the show or go home: DUH! Of course we all scrambled back into the audience seats. People were constantly moving back and forth -in and out of their seat, so that it was easy to "trade up" on the vantage point toward the stage. We watched a few more live acts and then it was time for the last number: SANTANA. The man is unbelievable. I remember him from the Woodstock days... a tremendous virtuoso of sound on the electric guitar -he didn't disappoint. Alicia Keyes joined him for the greatest music of the night: Black Magic Woman... This was the only number that people got up for in a standing ovation. Unfortunately that part was edited out from the TV version. In fact, the TV version of this show was not very good "sound-wise". Somehow, TV is unable to transmit the unbelievably good performance that each of these super-artists created on the stage here tonight. The full dimension of SOUND and SIGHT at the live performance was totally missing from the taped televised version. (Although it was still good.)

The evening performance had ended and I got together with my buddies to see if our "shady friend" would follow through with his promise to give us passes to the coveted "AFTERSHOW" that was being held at the Rainbow Room around the corner. Needless to say... he never showed...and of course my friend's pass was never returned either. I bailed early and was glad to have done so. The others waited in hopes of him showing up... Live and learn.

[Epilogue: That's me in the circles... snapping at JLo... and then retreating as she ended the number. I bask in the glory of anonymity!]

Exhibiting my art at MICROCOSM gallery

2007-09-04T17:04:00.000-04:00

["There is a paradox between the concept of "not doing" and of something being demanded of us, something that must be done. Normally we feel a need to do and we express this need in art, in accomplishments, or in other important things. These acts of "doing" are the unconscious responses to something being demanded of us -a certain creativity. We need to find out what this demand is about. What is really demanded of us is to take that concept, which is there for a reason, and come closer to its essence." -Michael Conge 1912-1984]

The assignment was to create some form of art on a 12 inch square canvas, in response to the zen queery:

...WHAT IS YOUR ORIGINAL FACE?

It was to be my first ever attempt to be exhibited in a gallery -before I left this earth. You may ask why did I want to do this?

Well... it goes back, way back, to my early days as a child -when I liked to draw a lot. Progressed to my teenage years... when I thought I had "something" and wanted to pursue it... and then

SKREEEEEECH!!!

My parents and my only artist friend at the time, discouraged me (and perhaps rightly so), diverting my life-path toward a more mundane vocation -but my dream never died. I confess, I am the stereotypical case of the wrong-road-taken-syndrome knows as:

"I always wanted to be an artist..."

But in my case it's true -I REALLY DID WANT TO BE AN ARTIST. And so, here I had my chance at an "open call" to "EXHIBIT YOUR ART in MicroCoSM Gallery"! Of course it cost me $25, plus the canvas, plus the travel expense to get to the NYC gallery... but who cared. My dream has been achieved.

DAMAGED lawyers at CIPRIANI's

2007-08-29T00:00:00.000-04:00

Both Tedd and Glenn were there in full regalia last night -along with the rest of us penguins. It was a black-tie affair wherein Glenn Close is presenting a prestigious award to a fellow lawyer...

[That's me sitting in the back... and never to be "discovered" -at least not from this show! It was a day's work for 2:43 minutes of this episode. So, approximately 3 minutes of showtime per day means about 2 weeks of work for a 50 minute show. Hmmm....]

Later as she dances with him, Tedd's evil-mogul character cuts in and the two antagonists are now arm in arm to the tune of Harry James' sentimental music. But the cozy scenario quickly deteriorates as Glenn's character provides an effective digg -accusing the high-powered businessman of letting a girl die as she cries after him, "Arthur...Arthur...ARTHUR!!!" But after a number of repeated takes it all sounded like a Broadway book-show.

It was great to see the two actors up close... way up close this time. Ted Danson was standing right in front of me and my "chanteuse partner", asking one of the PA's for his lines... sat down at one of the dinner table chairs and repeated it to himself a few times. After being satisfied with his lines and the blocking, he was in full swing as his confidence kicked in and his acting improved.

Glenn Close kidded around with the dinner-crowd as she stood by a podium ready to deliver a mildly roasted intro for the award-winning lawyer associate. In the beginning she blew her lines (they were kind of tough and jumbled) but eventually she got them out and kidded with us to break the tension... "So a lawyer walked into a bar..." we had to laugh at that one! Then she sang an etherial tune (not a bad voice)... and the scene was eventually completed to the director's satisfaction. Our part was to pay attention - laugh - clap!

This was a completely different Glenn Close than the one I had experieced back in episode #3! There she seemed more focused, stern and disassociated from the crowd. Here she was acting almost like a kid. At one point after the "Arthur...Arthur scene", it was supposed to be "silent" as the two arguing attorneys (are there any other kind?) separate -but Glenn just had to get that Cruella De Vil's "wicked witch laugh" out as Danson is storming off the dance floor -and of course that put the entire crowd into giggle-land. At this point a woman asked me "What was that 'Fatal...something' movie she was in? And I responded by saying, "Fatal Repulsion'.

Couldn't resist that one.

At break time we got 10 minutes to eat... this meant finding the catering truck (which was parked way the heck down the block) and then finding a reasonably ballanced place to eat. I found a fire-pump on which I ballanced one leg and a can of pepsi while juggling a small hero slice and a veggie-wrap. (Oh, the things that hunger and decent-looking food can motivate you to overcome!) While doing my ballancing act... Glenn Close and the award-winning lawyer actor saunter by on the street, walk up to the crafty truck near-by and have a snack with the rest of the SAG people. A few minutes later they are on their way back and I watch them pass in front of me with "blank forward-looking" expressions on both their faces... It was very tempting to wave my hand in front of them to see if they weren't sleep walking. But I'm digressing into fantasy-land here -and it's really neither here nor there how they walk and how they look... they are who they are; for whatever reason that they are. I can only observe without judgement.

The shoot soon ended, an orderly exit was made by all voucher-signed participants as our seven hours of celebrity exposure began to fade in our dressing rooms. Cipriani's fancy coach was back to being a pumpkin again... and we were all left looking for that missing shoe.

VERIZON with Paul Marcarelli and a cast of dozzens

2007-08-17T20:21:00.000-04:00

I don't know if he could hear us now... but we were all jibber-jabbing about his fame and monetary success! We, the extras, standing on the green-screened floor hung in there for the $150 session just to be in a Verizon commercial. Wearing the hats, shirts, jackets, tools, etc. that the wardrobe department supplied us with -and we just shwitzed away the time in Silvercup's Studio #5 -while Paul, "the Verizon-guy" held up the latest version of the brand's cell-communicator... (not a word from Paul -just face time to the camera as we stood behind him en mass). As a matter of fact -someone had mentioned that we were supposed to be on Mars!? Oh yeah... even the aliens will be using Verizon soon -just to call Earth.

During breaks I sat across from a young guy who was well prepared to while away the hours in a crowded room (where there were, according to our attractive raven-haired PA, exactly 160 chairs). We played WAR with cards -but then he suggested a rousing game of DOMINOES! I haven't played that since I was a kid, -remembered something about having to match the dots... but that's it. I would have to learn it over again. Luckily the process was quick and we were having some high-felutin' competition over our lunches. Now I'm hooked. (Later, I bought a set in the nearest 99 cent store.)

Michael Imperioli FOR ONE MORE DAY

2007-08-13T23:01:00.000-04:00

Dressed as number 11, he swung the bat at his hometown field during the nostalgic 1970's -where he returned to commit suicide. But his mom (Ellyn Burstyn) comes back from the dead to talk him out of it. (And whether he lives or dies makes no difference to us extras...we just wanted to get out of the blazing sun bearing down on us before we had a meltdown in the open bleachers.)

That's the quick and dirty version of this film's plot. The long version dealt with our 6:30 AM to 7:PM stint, spent getting fitted for post-hippy chic. I was given bell-bottomed pants that didn't fit and I had to keep pulling them up until I finally got my hands on a large safety pin and reduced the 44 inch wasteline to a more managable one that could remain escalated around my girth. Afterwards, I was sent to make-up to have "porkchop sideburns" pasted on my cheeks in order to better fit into that period -a period which I lived through in polkadot shirts, tight pants and western boots. Certainly not the pukey mustard-colored tight-fitting terrycloth shirt I was given!

Quite frankly, some of my fellow extras fared a lot better... even with the wigs! I think the wardrobe department had a "Mod Squad" fetish... My friend, Karli Bonne, came out looking like a brunette version of Peggy Lipton.

The made-for-TV movie is an adaptation of Mitch Albom's book -and presented to the boob tube by Oprah Winfrey through the directorial exhuberance of Lloyd Kramer. Once Oprah recommends a book, it becomes a sure-to-make-it-big on the best sellers list. Thereby assuring an audience for this production... most likely to be aired on ABC... TBD!

Michael Imperioli took more guff from some of the more "experienced" cheering section than the non-specific direction given to our cadre of fans had called for (e.g. "What a lousy slice -you bat like a pussy!"). So that when the cheering got a bit ugly, the over-enthusiastic yellers were approached and told to cease the all-too-accurate jeers. After all, we were instructed to make believe that his first hit was a homerun (even if it was a foul). But Michael bore up well and was a real trooper. Such is movie-reality.

We were relocated several times in the bleachers to make the crowd look thick (I had tons of exprinence with this in the CMA Forex commercial a couple of weeks ago). The bleachers, however, had some obstacles in store for us: At one large area they were covered by squashed berries that had fallen from the overhanging tree; at another there was a wasp nest and they were zooming about our heads rather antagonisticly -enough so that a couple of us went running up and down the steps to try to escape their attacks and eventually we had to yell at the assistant director to stop reseating us in this section! Lloyd's bullhorn kept on with "...aaaaand.... ACTION!" They didn't care. The scene had to be completed while there was daylight...

Most of the people were called back to the bleachers after our meager roast-chicken lunch break... I was not among them -and didn't really mind. I had somehow been spared a second grilling from the August summer's hazing sun. I just cozied up to my seat in holding and let the hours pass until wrap time. Outside, a scene with Michael and his "father" would take forever. Something wasn't going right and the extras were kept in perplexity as to the reasons for the delays in the shoot. When the participating extras returned a few hours later, I got different stories from different people. But the gist was that it was a mess... the scene wasn't working. They had us for the past 12 hours -additional time would incur OT... so now it was WRAP time!!! Ah, the rush of stamping feet as they returned their wardrobe and hair-pieces for the exchange of the "ticket to leave", our VOUCHERs... which we now had to get signed. And now the lineup -an occasion to banter among each other while we wait for the PAs to process our IDs and at the same time trying to focus on the availability of the nearest exit door.

I made friends with a couple of people, and one of them quickly economized on it. Angelo asked if I could give him a ride into the city. I told him I could drop him off in Queens and off we went. While enroute to Queens, I learned that Angelo was a dancer persuing acting. He was post-college-age whose favorite dancer was pre-kiddie-Michael Jackson... and now Angelo wanted a career. I knew exactly what he meant -it was time for me to start getting back to mine also. The one in the real world. My phone rang -I got an interview scheduled in the middle of the week with a large firm in midtown NYC. More calls follow with opportunities of large salaries and full benefits and bonuses... etc. Reality beckons and acting strange now presents new challenges in both worlds.

A 2-day Odyssey with HONDA

2007-08-12T21:11:00.000-04:00

[ I always find it ironic when there is a NO PARKING sign posted for a CAR commercial!]

The 4:AM call means a 1:AM wakeup ring on my alarm-cell-phone; catching a 1:56 AM Long Island RR train and hoping that the NYC subways are running… and that there are some people around so that you don’t feel like you’re going to be a target for muggers. But NYC has a rhythm all its own –and you really can’t guess it, no matter how street-smart-savvy you think you might be. I’ve done all these musings before, and each time the results were pleasant.
The trains had a bunch of early workers starting out and the streets had groups of couples whose partying had finally taken it’s toll and now it was time to go home and rest (for more partying, no doubt). In this state of mind, I arrived 30 minutes early to the holding area that was at a Presbyterian Church on 55th Street and 5th Avenue.

The food truck was servicing us and I wasted no time in getting the fresh fruit with yogurt as my breakfast of choice for this fine and unusually chilly August-weekend morning. Others began to drift in and I noticed some familiar faces, and some not-too-familiar figures: one in particular was that of an emaciated looking young blond woman. Her face was pretty but her jeaned-up legs were spindly-thin and her arms, although covered with some muscle tissue, had given the impression that she may have been sick and was now coming back to possible health. Her demeanor was reserved and I noticed that one of the PA’s was fawning over her to meet her much-needed caloric-needs. I never actually witnessed her ingesting anything…

After our breakfast snacking, we were ushered into the church and two floors down, where we set up our “base camp” for today.

“Yoo kin put yer fookin’ things doon an’ git fookin’ coomftahble while we fookin’ fill out some fookin’ papers…!”

Derek, our handler, was Scottish and had no problem with telling us what to do and where to go! He was pleasantly serious and gave us a real listening treat with his heavy accent. I impressed him when I found his wallet on the bathroom floor and returned it to him. “You’re an honest mahn…(and after checking the contents to be intact he intoned further kudos)… a very honest mahn!”

Our wardrobes were checked and half of us, 20 or so souls, would be “shoppers” and the other half would be “business” –only 10 would be called back for the 2nd day’s shoot. I was to be a member of the latter group. An hour or so later, we were taken to the set which was in front of Harry Winston’s jewelry store on 5th Avenue. Classy!

Our direction was given and it was explained that we were to be the background-part of a Honda Odyssey car commercial. The commercial, however, would only be shown abroad –most likely Japan and Europe. When we saw the car, we realized why: the driver’s seat was on the right side. Groaaaaaan! Oh well, at least the pay was good.

Then came an entourage of people, in the center of which was a tall statuesque model with Barbie-doll-like spaghetti-thin features. ~~~Tidle-dee-dee, Tidle-dee-dee~~~… I realized that it was the girl I saw a few hours ago by the food truck. She was wearing a classy short chiffon-pleated dress that barely grazed her knees, some shopping bags and tons of makeup over her face that had to be touched-up on a regular basis by the Japanese makeup crew (army). And it was chilly, so that her thin constitution started to shiver… luckily, between takes, the Japanese contingency would bring her a coat to drape around her shoulders. Ultimately she bore up well and kept her composure, always focusing on her “delivery” to the camera. I gained a lot of respect for her very professional attitude.

The streets were wetted down by the water truck and the shoot began. Some of us were told to walk south, others north and Lindsay, the model would remain in place by the curb while doing a Queen Elizabeth-hand-wave in expectation of a pick-up by her oncoming Honda-driving acquaintance. Much of this shoot was done through the inside of the oncoming Honda car… an apparent signature of the director, Sano Yutaka. He had done Honda before, as shown on his production company’s website DAY-O… usually with some NYC landmark clearly seen through the car’s window. I suppose to signify that the right-sided-driver Honda Odyssey “gets around”! Interesting concept…and from what I observed on his website, cleanly depicted in each of the company’s commercial projects. Nothing was “lost in the translation”! He was good.

A small sliver of sunlight began to squeeze through to the concrete jungle’s skyscraper valley that we were now inhabiting. This light was to be used for a special shoot. While they were setting up their equipment, we were given a few minutes for a break. I decided to go into the direct line of the sun’s rays while leaning against the door of one of the fancy storefronts. I closed my eyes and just let the warmth of the sun penetrate. It felt soooo good after the long morning’s chilly weather. Suddenly my reverie was interrupted by a rude uniformed SOB behind the glass door. He was tapping it vigorously with his white-gloved knuckles and giving me some dirty looks to indicate that I should be off-of-there!!! Reluctantly, I complied… I vacated the door and the comfortable spot and receded back into the frigid grey light of inscrutability.

Bantering with the PA’s and the other extras during takes created a friendly networking atmosphere that allowed us to exchange headshots and contact references in hopes of a new gig. I had met two of the women here on another set and we commiserated on past experiences. One of them, who also worked on Adam Sandler’s “Zohan” set had the same disenchanted rotten experience that I did –and we both swore never to see that movie! The other woman was the UMAS waitress from the “Damages” restaurant set we filmed at DUMBO. Once we recognized each other we instantly resumed our “sentient” subjected conversation.

The time was rolling around to 10:AM and the stores were starting to open up… this was the desired cut-off time and pretty soon the “gates were checked” –and we were dismissed. My trip home was a lot less apprehensive, even though I was going against the flow of the incoming Saturday morning crowd. It was nice to be home before noon.

Day 2’s call time was a half hour later: 4:30 AM –big whoopy! But since it was an early Sunday morning call, I decided to drive to our new location –the Flat Iron District: 17th Street and 5th Avenue. This was my wife’s and my old workplace neighborhood in the mid-1970’s. A time when we would go to lunch together in the nearby park –so it brought back some romantic memories. My romanticism, however was quickly ended when I learned that Lindsay, the Barbie-doll model, would not be here today. Today’s shoot would only involve “the car”. Bummer!
The 10 special extras, which WE were –had to be posted effectively for the shoot since the streets were lacking human forms that would otherwise fill in the void of NYC’s sleeping Sunday population. The water truck did its special shpritzing for the slick photographic effect and we watched it go by from a safe (and dry) distance a dozen times or so. Everyone’s energy level was low…you could sense it…we were all sleepy and it showed in our lack of enthusiasm. But that didn’t matter –the takes went on endlessly as the Honda and the camera crew circled the blocks over and over again. Between takes, the only drama we could get involved in was that of a hopping baby sparrow which had fallen from its nest and the ensuing frantic prods of the sparrow family to get the baby flying. In its efforts to escape the pedestrian onslaught, the baby sparrow kept coming perilously closer to the certain doom awaiting it in the ceaseless traffic of 5th Avenue. My “sentient” friend kept blocking the baby sparrow’s path off the curb, hence saving it from the inevitable. But this could only last between takes and once we wrapped up, the fledgling would be left to fend for itself. We, special extras, after all, had to go sign out and get home to our beds for some much needed rest, so that we could continue to remain “sentient”.

On a COLLEGE ROAD TRIP with Martin, Raven and Vinny

2007-08-09T10:02:00.000-04:00

My agent must have gotten inspired by the title of this movie because the "coordination bug" really bit her for this gig. She arranged for groups of people to travel together in car-pools to Oakville, Connecticut. The movie company couldn't get any locals so we would be given the "coveted WAIVER" if we showed up. And it would have been pulled off flawlessly had it not been for THE STORM FROM HELL!!!

I was paired up with Pete as the driver, who lived in the next town over from me. We agreed to meet at 6:15 AM for the 9:15 AM call time. Sounded pretty fair... planning 3 hours for a 2 hour drive... yet our plans still went awry (or AW-REE, as my wife likes to pronounce it).
When I arrived at Pete's house, it was a gentle rain that drizzled upon my bare noggin as I switched to his car. A short wait and Pete was ready to pick up another passanger in nearby Inwood. But as we began to get on the main roads the sky opened up and the rain was now pouring down making visibility almost non-existent as Pete answered his cell phone. It was our agent... "Could you pick up one more passanger in Astoria???"... The rain was now a deluge as we turned onto the highway, Pete fiddling with the phone and the car swirving a bit here and there as his attention was being distracted at the thought of having to go out of our way.

The water on the highway was now at curb level as Pete "calmly" explained the delaying situation to our persistent agent, and eventually she relented so that we could continue on our way to pick up our scheduled 3rd passanger nearby. It was still dark and the oncoming storm made it even darker as we searched for the house number. After a few missed turns we found it and Pete, still dressed in his shorts and T-shirt, got out with an umbrella to help Donna into the car. It was a 2 door sports car so that negotiating the narrow door-space in the torrential rain delayed her entry and prolonged Pete's unscheduled soaking -his large stature requiring that the driver's seat be readjusted after Donna's ingress, thereby extending his exposure to the elements. The unbrella was useless now. The storm was raging, lightning, thunder and tremendously wild winds were the fare for the next hour or so. The radio was warning abut possible TORNADOS right in the area where we were traveling -the south shore of Long Island!!! (Later we learned that an official tornado, with strength EF-2, did touch down in Bay Ridge, Brooklyn at 6:30 AM... uprooting treets, roofs, CARS, etc.).

But who cared. We wanted those WAIVERS! Donna had one already but Pete and I were going for our first one. Three waivers will get you into SAG... which meant we would earn SAG money (almost twice the usual amount as for non-SAG extras). And we were going to show up for this gig -no matter what kind of weather slowed us down. But slow us, it did. We arrived at 11:15 AM... 5 hours driving and 2 hours late.

Luckily, they were understanding and the PA's treated us with consolation... we wouldn't be penalized for the "tardyness". Our arrival time would still show as 9:15 AM. Thak you PA's!

At noon we were called to set at the TAFT school. It was a pretty large, well manicured campus for a boarding school. A nice place to simulate a "college atmosphere". On the set there were "toga party" type pledges scattered all over the area. We, the older looking types, were to be "faculty". But for now, the faculty types were told to wait by a tree while Martin Lawrence and Raven, dressed in red gym clothes were screeching a golf-cart to the school's entrance... TG far away from us. Vincent Pastore also has a role in this movie -but he wasn't around. The scene was repeated for a long time... we were never called to be on camera and told to return to holding.

As it turned out, the production of that scene was running way too long and we, "the faculty", would not be used today. The announcement was "Call your agent to see if you will be needed tomorrow?!" We didn't care... we all had plans anyway. But as it turned out we were finished... not used for the scene... and we got our coveted waivers.

The trip home... in the calm dawn... was a lot faster.

TAKING CHANCE with Kevin Bacon

2007-08-07T23:55:00.002-04:00

A sad story to be played out on HBO, based on the real life of a 19 year old Marine who gave his life in 2004 Iraq, so that his fellow Marines could all survive. His body, as prescribed by the Marines' tradition, is accompanied back home to Dubois, Wyoming to his family -never left alone during the entire trip. Kevin Bacon plays the accompanying Marine... Lt. Col. Michael Strobl.

The director, Ross Katz, got up to the gym's microphone and explained the story to us in heart-wrenching words. It was very emotional and the hundreds of extras listening were all appreciative of the director's efforts to address us in this way.

It was an early morning call to a sleeping New Jersey town's high school gym, but it was also an early afternoon release. One of the quickest sessions I've ever attended. The scene was relatively simple:

the grieving family enters the gym and walks slowly to their seats

we stand up in respect

the high ranking Marine asks us to sit and begins to deliver the intro to the eulogy

We had to be sufficiently somber as the multiple cameras did their work while the scene was on...

In between takes however, we were attempting to be jolly... couldn't be helped... The guy next to me had a huge beard and it was his first time as an extra. His innocent questions and my wiseguy responses were a diabolical mix. Add to that the zaftig "reading woman" on my other side whose informational jibes were unexpectedly comical... well, we just needed the boost between the downer takes.

I was in the second row as Kevin Bacon walked around being one of the "funeral goers" and would occasionally get tips from the "real Marine" advisor on the set. His appearance reminded me of his role in "A Few Good Men" as the naval prosecuting attorney: stiff back, crew cut, no-nonsense attitude. And like other actors I've seen for the first time, he was shorter and skinnier than I had imagined from the screen. The only time I noticed him perk up was after one of the "check the gates" calls -he walked by and gave a wink & smile to the girl in front of me, who, I figured was somehow well known by the crew people who kept coming up to her earlier in the shoot session. I didn't recognize her to be one of the actors. Oh well -have to wait for the movie to come out, I guess.

The zaftig woman mentioned that Tom Wopat was playing one of the mourning family members and after looking at his Dukes of Hazard photos, I believed her... although, he was sporting a scroungy beard for this role.

The brown-bagged lunches we eventually received had consisted of a mushy ham and cheese sandwich with an apple and a bag of potato chips... I gave it away to one of the hungry PA's. I just didn't feel like eating anything after the morose atmosphere. I really didn't expect it to affect me this way -so I guess I must have acted pretty good in this one.

Silvercup Studios and "The Arena" commercial

2007-07-29T17:08:00.000-04:00

I was alreay familiar with the navigable environs of the confusing "Streets" and "Avenues" criss-crossing this area of Queens, which made my trip relatively shorter from Long Island.
As my car was nearing the studios for my 1:PM call to set, I was also on my cellphone to my friend Massimo -who runs a silkscreening company nearby. I needed some tips on parking possibilities and he gave me some expert guidance on the best (and cheapest) location.
The walk was only 2 blocks up and the guard here was much more informed than my previous day's experience at Kaufman-Astoria Studios (excrucio) that were also in this upcoming neighborhood.

I was given a pass and immediately shown into Studio 3, where Persona Films were preping the green background for the CMS FOREX commercial shoot that I and about 40 others were slated to act in. Max and Shaun were the PA's who were handling us. Their professionalism was exemplary -they were curteous, doting and informed. We were immediately given access to an air-conditioned room, a large cooler filled with water, soda and gatorade... as well as snacks and a large mirror with the traditional stage bulbs attached to its periphery. What a difference from the shlocky "bums-rush" treatment at Kaufman-Astoria Studios.

The makeup lady came in and took us into her area for some "touch ups". As I chatted with her, I realized that it was Paula -she was also part of the makeup crew for "Revoutionary Road", which we both worked on a few weeks ago. My shiny forehead was now completely dull from Paula's makeup pallette and we were ready to go into the studio.

"Don't walk on the green paint!" was the immediate direction from several PAs. Two huge walls were completely painted bright green with some accurately placed "cross-hairs" for later CG-simulation of a Romanesque arena. And then we were guided to a four level fabricated set of bleachers, upon which we were to stand in our dark suits under the HOTTEST STUDIO LIGHTS I've ever experienced. Our young director, Yan Vizenberg spoke with a Russian accent:

"You are agressive stockbrokers in the podium where there are four animated currencies -they are fighting it out. Yell loud and cheer them with thubs-up or thumbs-down... throw paper and talk on your cellphones and crackberries!" The rest of our direction came from his bald-comical-stocky-bearded assistant. "LOOK AT THE RED 'X'... LISTEN FOR THE GONG... LOOK SURPRISED. It was a real directorial show!

[That's me in the circle -although I must have been replicated at different times doing different motions all over the arena!]

The shoot took about 6 hours... Yan and his English-accented partner Helga were constantly conferring abut the specifics as we yelled our heads off for fast-mo, slo-mo, inbetween-mo...no-mo!!!

Shots were positioned from the left, the right...from the back -we were shuffeled constantly... front row shots...then back row shots. And although we were given breaks, our shirts (and underwear) were soaking wet from the exhuberance and the super-hot lights.
At the end we met Max in the lobby, where he doled out our envelopes containing $50. We also learned that the commercial will air only in the industry circles of the financial arena's brokerage houses. What irony... my "real-job" usually takes place in the environs of Merrill Lynch, JP Morgan Chase, BlackRock et al. It would be a real kicker if I landed a job soon and saw myself in this commercial... OY!

Kaufman-Astoria Studios and the "Power Of TEN" game show

2007-07-28T22:08:00.000-04:00

Arriving at the Kaufman Astoria Studios parking lot, just across the street from the business entrance, resulted in an immediate argument with the parking lot caretaker. An elderly man wearing blue overalls speaking with an overbearing foreign accent that easily leads to a mish-mosh of misunderstandings for parking instructions. As I pulled up and asked how much it would cost to park here, he gave me a long cocophonous explanation that enventuated on a single phrase of communal understanding: $7.00 -Sounded fair to me.

But as soon as I gave him the money he told me to leave the convenient parking lot and embark upon a search for a movie-house parking area a few blocks away... where I could now park my vehicle on a rooftop area! Huhhhhh?

"Give me back the money -I'll find my own parking spot for free!" I retorted. And I did... right across from the big front entrance to the studio-building that was just around the corner.

After going into the lobby and asking where the "POWER OF 10" extras were to be assembled, the guards behind the security desk knew nothing. Eventually they called a neuromancing PA with a jacked-in secret-service-type of earpiece that was constantly issuing instructions and status updates to her somewhat over-multi-tasked brain. Nonetheless, she was able to point me in the right direction with as little eye-contact that she could afford... "go outside the building and around the OTHER corner! You'll see the others lined up there." Here we go...

Around the corner... there were about a hundred young people waiting to be called in for audience seat-filler gigs. It was a new game show hosted by Drew Cary. But no one was going in... everyone was just mulling about aimlessly. As I found out later, there were 2 groups: people WITH tickets and people who were EXTRAS from varius agencies. Mine was Extra Mile...others were Kaplan...etc. And the reason no one was going in was because they overbooked the number of extras (who would provide seat-filling-talent, should the ticketed population decide on not showing up). But the "ticket holders" were arriving en masse and we extras had to stand around without shelter, drink, food or toilet facilities from 6:30 PM until 10:30 PM before there was a need for us. And then finally one of the PA's announced: "I need 15 people...", and IN we went to the audience area with the show already in progress. Our "act" was to "CHEER Drew and the contestants"!
Oh joy...been there/done that at David Letterman and at Millionaire.

After 20 minutes, the show ended... Drew gave a short and quick bye-bye and went off the stage, high-fiving me as he passed by. What-a-guy! (What a dull gig!)

In the process of waiting around for hours prior to being called into action, I made a few new friends... most of them Italian -one of which bummed a ride off me to Long Beach. I didn't mind. It made me feel more usefull than a hungry, thirsty, piss-filled cheerleader.

Adam Sandler and his messy ZOHAN (whatever that is?)

2007-07-28T17:39:00.001-04:00

My agent notified me that it would be a night shoot but that we "wouldn't be working overnight"! YEAH...RIGHT...

When I arrived at holding for the 8:PM weeknight shoot, everyone was shmoozing outside St. Mary's on 46th Street. It was a very humid and hot night that kept us sweating for most of the 9 and a half hours that we were to spend here. Inside the church, there was no air conditioning, no food and no production assistants to check us in. They arrived late and that pretty much set the tone for the night... LATE!

After about 6 hours, I went inside the holding area and just took in the heat for a while. My friend Pat, came over and intoned: "You must be CRAZY, NUTS and someone must have DROPPED YOU ON YOUR HEAD if you're staying in here!" -and gave me a friendly, albeit concerned smile. I was into my Gurdjieffian-fourth-way mental exercise of "CONSCIOUS EFFORT and VOLUNTARY SUFFERING..." (but I could never explain that to him in 25 words or less). So I smiled back. Suddenly an announcement was made and we were taken to Times Square and set up on the super-busy post-midnight sidewalks as "added pedestrian fodder" for the evening's big "limo-scene" (oh... a pun). The white stretch-limo was driven by a stunt driver with an Adam Sandler-standin (for safety, no doubt) sitting next to him as the vehicle careened up Broadway opposite the one-way traffic flow -zigzaging past all the oncoming cars. I have to say that the driver was excellent because he had to repeat the scene several times with the hairline-crash-misses intact. Bravo!

Unfortunately, with all the stars in this movie, we never got to see ANY of them. Not Adam Sandler, not Rob Schneider, not Mariah Carey, not Henry Winkler, not Talia Shire... nada, nookoo, nyitzky-nyitzky, swah, zipo stars on this set!!! So it was very disheartening to go through all the hot weather and lack of food, and standing for long periods of times without rest, etc... without the "reward" of seeing one of the principal characters. About the only thing we were given was water bottles and left-over cookies, potato chips and lolly pops... and the only "star" we saw up close was the limo-driver being made up with a wig and a hat! Oh well, chalk this one up to yet another Gurdjeffian exercise: MAKING SUPER EFFORTS!!!

The gates were checked and we were sent home at 5:30 AM... the sun was begining to rise. And as we extras commiserated on our way out, we vowed NEVER to do night-shoots again! It just wasn't worth it for $7.50 per hour. Some of us even vowed NEVER TO SEE THIS MOVIE!

DiCaprio,Winslet & Mendes on a Revolutionary Road

2007-07-16T20:06:00.001-04:00

The dream team! I wish I could have kept dreaming but... I had to self-report to the set of Revolutionary Road in Fairfield, Connecticut at 5:30 AM. We, background extras, all needed to get a 1950's haircut and this crew didn't like to waste any time. We had to eat our sumptuous breakfasts while filling out our I-9 forms, obtaining our fitted wardrobes (bathing suits)... and board the bus to the nearby beach: Sasco Beach. A Long Island Sound beach with rough sand and plenty of rocks to walk bearfoot upon. Luckily, the weather was cool and cloudy, so that my "bare bodkin" was somewhat spared by the summer's usual tempermental elements.

My placement was relatively near the principal charachters so that I was able to observe them up close as they went through their thespian routines as well as their personal ideosynchracies.
DiCaprio likes to bite his nails and often uses a toothpick. Kate Winslet likes to keep her hands on her hips and maintains a serious attitude. Both are excellent actors and deliver their lines with the appropriate accurate physical accompaniments (happy-sad-mad) -as the scene calls for it. And the scene called for a lot of "it"... especially from the director and husband of Kate, Sam Mendes.

Mendes is a very meticulous director. He doesn't like to let go of a scene easily. So there were a lot of retakes... in fact we started to call his style "The Groundhog Day" style...named after the repetition-themed Bill Murray movie. Over and over the takes were requested and delivered, until eventulally Sam was satisfied and shook his wife's hand! How nice...romance and gratification. What a team!

The "27 Dresses" of Katherine Heigl

2007-07-10T11:24:00.002-04:00

( This was one of the best background exposures I ever got in a major motion picture. Even my wife shouted "WOW! That's you..." )

It just keeps getting better and better... these 3:PM call times are great!
The studios must have figured out after all these years that getting the extras on set in the early morning is just another way of assuring them more overtime pay! After all, there is so much to set up at the locations: euqipment, lights, props, fabrications, food...etc. This time we were taken to set at 5:30 PM -not too bad of an initial wait for those of us dressed to be part of the NYC backround business crowd. Unfortunately it was a different story for the "wedding guests"... they had to wait 9 hours in their fancy costumes prior to shoot time!

Katherine Heigl and Judy Greer were waiting for us on the corner of Madison Avenue and 50th Street last Sunday. They were dressed in shiny purplish bridesmaids outfits and kept picking up their dresses' bottoms as the humid city streets radiated the clammy summer heat up their legs. Between takes, Judy Greer was wearing flip-flops instead of the high heeled accessory and Katherine Heigle had a lit cigarette pulled in and out of her mouth by a doting production assistant.

"Oh no Katherine...DON'T SMOKE! It'll just make your `anatomy greyer'..." I undertoned to my partner, a fellow "businessman" with whom I was paired for the walkby shoot that would start in a moment or two. And after discussing with him how often women seem to be getting lung cancer, he and a fellow extra, dressed as a hippy, lit up a couple of "fags" of their own (pardon my British).
The shoot was over in an hour or so and we were taken back to holding: The Women's Republican Club on 51st Street off 5th Avenue.

Going up to the 2nd floor, there were portraits of famous patrons, first of which was Nancy Reagan. "She used to carry a gun in her purse!" I mentioned to one of the extras in my group.
"Did she REALLY?" was her response. Many of the extras were young and "before my time", and as I found out later, devoid of political savy that predated Saturday!

Upstairs we were seated at a dozzen or so linen covered, albeit unset, dinner tables while the SAG crew was lined up to eat. We, the non-union people, were told in no uncertain expletives that this was for "SAG ONLY...SAG ONLY!!!". So I got on the line and got my portion. (They rarely check for your SAG card proof.)

Meanwhile, back at the table, we were told to "scrunch" together because more people were coming!? This created an intimate group of 10 people at our table with various backgrounds whose stories ranged from experiences of living in a haunted house, the simple life in South Carolina and the eventual topics of religion, politics, weird jobs and writing the Great American Novel! Along with the banter and a rousing round of a card game that has come to be called BULLSHIT... we managed to pass the hours away until we were summoned again to the night-time streets in front of the New York Palace.

Built in 1882, it evolved from housing for the local gentry to being a fancy-shmancy hotel. We were taken over to the set and placed on our #1 marks as a large truck pulled up and began to wet down the street. "They always do that for night shoots! It makes it look prettier on the film!", my new loquacious walking-partner explained as my beige pants were being sprayed. In between shoots, she proceeded to tell me her life story for the next hour: actress... therapist... religious organizer...rent-control instigator...and back to being an actress again!

"And what about you?", she deigned to ask... when suddenly the PA's called out, "Who's non-SAG here?". Immediately my hand went up -hoping for what would eventuate. And it did. We, the non-SAGers were told to go back to holding, where we were to sign out and go home!!! Excellent timing.

Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants 2 (aka CHICK FLICK)

2007-06-28T10:30:00.000-04:00

YALE... New Haven, CT... summer... and a couple of hundred sweaty background-extras sitting around for 5 hours in the sweltering heat of the holding areas surrounding St. Bonneface School on yet another New England street named Broadway. An occasional breeze wafts through the closely built housing, causing the welcomed venturi effect of a faster, cooler wind tickling our well-dressed perspiring bodies. But it's only momentary and then it's back to the "Sisterhood of the SWEATY PANTS 2, 3, 4...".

This was BRUTAL! Yesterday I was doing a commercial for Harvard Pilgrim Healthcare in Sea Cliff, Long Island -also a sunburning 90 degree standing-forever-outside ordeal in addition to eventually being "trapped in the holding bus" for a long time -without a/c!!!

This morning however, I had a great yoga class on the beach and utilized it's calming effects for... "most of the day".

Got checked in at noon, but it wasn't until after 5 PM that we were taken to the set location around the block, University Theater, where we were seated and told that the a/c was off so as not to interfere with the sound recording's quality. (Moan!) Some of us were placed in the back row and told to clap vigorously as one of the cameo stars, Kyle MacLachlan, dressed in a white suit came in and observed the make-believe play that was taking place on the real stage in the front of the theater. He would make empathetic facial grimaces and self-congratulatory gestures to acknowledge the "make-believe play's success". Then suddenly, the upcoming Moroccon-madam-director, Sanaa Hamri, yelled CUT, went over to Kyle to give him some direction and called him "Bill"!? "Oooops!" she demured. "Did I just call you Bill? I'm so sorry..." Followed by lots of nervous laughter. And then retakes.

I was enthralled... (flashback)... here was the star of DUNE: The Desert Messiah -in person...yessssssss! I didn't see any of Kyle's other works (e.g. Sex and the City, Desperate Housewives, etc.), but I really liked his role as Paul Atreides (Muad'Dib) and he became a sort of sci-fi icon for me... (back to the present)...

Later on, we the background, were shuffled around for various effects and then sent out into the street as our new holding area... for the next 3 or so hours!? CRUEL, very cruel... very. So we chatted, networked, exchanged cards and occasionally wandered off to feed ourselves at the local stores -because there was no food provided for the multitude of extras, although there was plenty of fancy "mangia" -seafood with safron rice...mmm... for the principal cast and crew. This was really, really LOoooooow! And then it began to RAINNNNNNN!

At that point, we were taken back to the former holding area where we were lined up inside the church's ultra-dim main service hall and told to get our vouchers signed. The line was enormous and there was only one -ONE production assistant to check and sign our I-9 paper. The camel's new straw was starting to strain, even under the auspices of the religious surroundings, and people started to "sneak" in at the front of the line. The expected result: YELLING and CURSING!!! I was lucky to be among the first 20 so I got out relatively quick and went to pick up my backpack and jacket. Unfortunately they were MOVED!!! And no one knew where they were... I searched franticly in the netherworlds of the school and happened upon an area in the basement, where the SAG union people were carousing and enjoying trays of FOOOOOD -amongs them the coveted seafood with safron rice! I wasn't going to give in to that. I was on a mission to find my belongings and get the hell outahere!

Went back upstairs to the church service area and saw some clothing on the floor...amongst which were my backpack and other self-supplied wardrobe. Scooped them up and ran out the door... the WRONG DOOR! It was now raining more profusely and I was totally disoriented. I was frustrated and angry at the chaotic manner in which we were handled -it used to be so much more professional. This was a MESS! But the rain started to take it's extinguishing effect and I started to feel calmer with each soaking step. I found my way down York Street and as I passed the mostly deserted set-location, there, under the SAG-food tent, a lonely figure wearing glasses and a red polo shirt, was scrounging through the last vestiges of nourishment. I recognized him; it was Kyle MacLachlan. As I passed by, I yelled "Have a good night Kyle... or is it Bill?" He waved back and said good night with a friendly squinting smile -not knowing who the heck I was. And that was the perfect ending for me on this gig.

Chess Babe not a bitch

2007-06-25T10:41:00.000-04:00

Jennifer Shahade, a definite star on the chess scene, wrote a provocative book entitled: CHESS BITCH -essentially addressing all the foibles and fables about women in chess. So when the grandmistress held a simultaneous play event at the Nassau County Museum of Art, my wife and I went to see her in action -and I actually got into the act as one of the 18 players.

Having a reputation for liking to "dress up"... she wore a summery see-through dress with a plunging neckline... the rest of us wore jeans and t-shirts on this sunny afternoon under the white tent of the museum's latest attraction, surrealism in the art of chess!

Her short introduction was very friendly and very direct. When asked about her background and name, she immediately addressed the fact that she was born in the USA of a Lebanese-Jewish heritage. She had started to learn chess at age 6 but didn't really get "into it" until about 13, in high school. She graduated NYU and decided it was easier to make money playing/coaching chess rather than doing the 9-5 grind. Good choice Jennifer! Let the games begin.

Simultaneous play rules proclaim that the GM has white and we, the players must move when she comes around to our board. She opened with her king pawn to e4 and I countered with my queen pawn to d5... Not a very popular defense but one I've been experimenting with during my Sunday morning Bagel Boss Deli-friendly games. Needless to say, I haven't kept up with my chess-acumen, although I did play quite a bit in my college days and even got a chance to joust with Rossolimo in his old Greenwich Village chess studio back in the 70's... and beat him in one of the 16 games I managed to note. So much for my chess-braging. Playing with the ebullient Jennifer was a different experience... As the games progressed, her energy level started to rise as well... in fact towards the end games she was practically running from board to board. And then one of the organizers yelled "PIZZA's here!" Game or no game...we were all famished from all the concentration and we just started to sneak off to the pizza table. But food makes your mind too relaxed and my grand-opponent missed a good chance to fininsh me off quickly on her 24th move, at the following position:

The pretty sacrifice with B x p/g would have quickly ended my bold attempt to become the CHESS BASTARD! Alas, she missed the fast-track opportunity and opted to prolong my inevitable demise on the fortieth move, when I reached across the board, shook her hand and resigned. My wife really liked that move!

DAMAGES! with Glenn Close

2007-06-09T16:26:00.000-04:00

Glenn Close is a lovely lady... but I really didn't get to see more than the back of her head duing the filming of her new TV pilot: DAMAGES!

My newly unempoyed status from my real-life job of a consultant has released me from my daily 5:AM wakeup time and the nearly 5 hour round-trip drives to New Jersey for the past 11 months. The welcome call time for my return to the world of showbiz was a comfortable 2:PM in NYC's DUMBO -and holding was at the stylish Toro Restaurant near the set around the corner: Water Street Restaurant. We were instructed to bring 2 changes of clothes but ultimately were stuck in only one. I brought a suit and a sportcoat, which was stylishly coordinated by the costume department as a "mix" of my black suit-pants, the grey sports jacket, a glossy green shirt that was vehemently complemented with my solid maroon tie!? I would never have guessed to do this. But then, I'm not a fashionista!

During my stay on the second floor of the Toro, I made friends with a couple of the other extras and we shared our experiences... for 2 hours. At 4:PM we were taken to the set where three of us guys were strategically situated at a table for four. We were to mime our dinner conversations while Glenn Close and her "son" were having an argument a few tables away from us. There were numerous takes and the girl who played the waitress for their table later told us how nice Glenn was as she introduced herself -thereby breaking the ice barrier which prevents us extras from initiating direct contact with the stars. Our table had a "young waitress" assigned also, and during takes we found out that she had attended UMASS a while ago. Hmm?

As the takes ended, the extras were shuttled into the basement bar area of the set. One could only assume from the strange juxtaposition of the drum set on a single shelf, that only "raves" were occuring down here. At any rate, it was calmingly dim and we all found a place to perch. I sat next to our waitress and initiated a philosophical conversation. She was intelligent and expressed her beliefs in "helping all sentient beings"! Our conversation went haywire somewhere and she became adamant in her attitude toward "theoretically not helping someone in need" (e.g. an old lady falling in front of her). For some reason, her new attitude became very stubborn: "Are you crazy? I really don't know what I would do in a theoretical situation... It's not MY JOB to help someone... ". But I suspect it was all an act (DUH?). I say that because, in the beginning of our conversation, she interrupted our talk, politely excused herself, went over to a lampshade that had been precariously perched against a lit lightbulb, and fixed it..."to prevent a fire". ACTions spoke louder than all the smoke we'd been blowing in each others' face during the wait for the next shoot. Which was never to be for us non-union extras. We were dismissed for the day and the pay was a bit more than usual: $100. Nice surprise... even better, the time had disappeared very quickly with our bullsession.

Epilogue: That's me in the cirlce of the 3rd episode... (I'm feigning "obscurity").

Spike Lee's M.O.N.Y.

2007-03-12T17:27:00.001-04:00

My first gig in 7 months since working full-time (and still being employed) in the real world!

Of course I had been getting cast calls... one of the most recent one being The Bourne Ultimatum. Grant Wilfley called a couple of weeks ago but I had my car radio on so loud that I didn't hear my cell phone ring. And consequently when I finally realized that I had a call (2 hours later), Michole (?), the person I was supposed to contact, was no longer there and in all likelyhood, all extras had been selected. That hurt! I really wanted to see old Matt Damon do his stuff.

And then other opportunities arose. A possible photo shoot at the Paramus Mall for $50... hmmm, maybe? But then Desiree's email offers got better: Mayor Of New York with Spike Lee as director was offered for a weekend gig! I submitted for it and the old ball was in full swing again. I was #119 and got my location instructions from Sylvia Fay's call-in board: CITY HALL -excellent!!! I could finally see the place "from the inside".

The call time was for 1:PM -rather late in the day for a shoot... but who cared- I could sleep late and take my sweet time getting there. I did my IMDB research on the project and found out that it was an NBC TV pilot for which the principals were Bobby Cannavale and Carmen Ejogo.
I've seen Bobby on other TV shows but Carmen was a new name to me. I was pumped up for the occasion.

HOLDING was across the street from City Hall in the ancient Emigrant Industrial Savings Bank on Chambers Street. A grand marbled structure that was pretty well preserved from it's heyday of keeping fifty some odd tellers busy at the "jail-barred" windows. The last time I was in a bank like that was Brooklyn 1959!

The extras were assembling in the center of the bank under the grand ceiling that had huge oval stained-glass designs depicting the various industries the bank catered to... I sat under "Engineering". Near the check-in area there were rows of food -none of which was available to us for some weird reason. In fact we were only provided with pretzels, lollypops and tiny Snicker bars with some juice for the rest of the day. Not even coffe or tea! Just another typical crew-class discrimination (and starvation).

After check-in I met up with a couple of regulars I'd seen on other sets. I settled down at a table where I started chatting with my acquaintances, one of whom was Bill "It's a RAPP" and the other one being Pat. The conversation flowed generously... and it's a good thing too because we weren't called to set for another 5 hours!

The first scene for me was to walk from across the long hallway with a colleague business-type as the principals were walking behind. I was given the NY Times and a briefcase for props. This only took about 10 takes, during which we got to see Carmen stroll by -she's much prettier and younger than her photo depicts. Bobby was shorter than I expected... but then it seems that I always expect these guys to be "bigger than life"!? And Spike was definitely shorter than I expected -a striking character non-the-less. He projects an interesting charisma -somewhere between "cool-calm-and-collected" and moderately aloof.

Our second scene was to be a bunch of "power brokers" seated in a small room behind the principals. Our direction was to look busy, sign things, and "shuffle paper around". As it turned out, I was shuffling my papers rather loud for the second take and the boom-man indicated that we should make like there was "no papers there" becasue the mike was picking up too much noise with it. The warning was appropos but alas, too late. Spike was heading for us from the opposite end of the hall. We all knew what was coming...

He crouched down to our coffe table level, raised his eyebrows above the hoot-owl glasses and quietly and demurely explained that we needed to make no sound with the papers... and that this was the last scene of the day... and that we would be out of here at 8:30 PM if it went right!

Well! That was the best incentive. After all, we had been in holding from 1:PM to 7:PM... only had to do background work for an hour and a half and it was WRAP-time! So we mimed through the scene 2 more times and all went well. City Hall was evacuated fairly fast as we all headed for check-out...at 10 hours...and HOME!

Epilogue: I got a call the following day from my agent... way too late in the day for me to rework my plans... for a callback! Apparently there was a "mix-up" in communications (i.e. no one told us) and Spike needed everyone back for the second day! Unfortunately I had already commited to going to a birthday party and a Moroccan wedding! And I stuck with my commitment. Sorry Spike -better plans next time.

BINGO with Ringo! A paying job came along.

2006-07-18T21:16:00.000-04:00

But not before we got to see Ringo Star at the Wesbury Theater. A close up venue where the stage goes round and round so everyone can see the stars from every friendly angle. It was a strange crowd too. A fight almost broke out a few rows ahead of us, primarily because of two big guys who couldn't stop standing up at every song that Ringo's All Star Band played. And then there was the drunk behind us who kept clapping with a full open cup of beer in his hand. Needless to say, my friend got a decent dosing of beer on his shirt and some of it drizzled onto my seat as well. He was so drunk that he tried to hide the cup under his seat while we were staring at him! Hic!

Anyway... I got a full time paying job that takes me back to one of my former working places -but this time with better pay and more interesting work!

So I'll be putting my acting career (and most likely this blog) on hold ---at least until they lay me off... or promote me!
Either way, "I'LL BE BACK!"

Hilary Duff on Conan

2006-06-28T01:49:00.000-04:00

I ducked into the doorway of the NBC building after my real-world job interview completed at Rockafeller Center -so that I could get on my cellphone to my headhunter to tell him how the hour and 30 minute grilling went down. When, all of a sudden, in the middle of my call, a black SUV pulls up, 2 paparazzi pop out of the revolving door behind me and begin to head for the docked vehicle. The car door opened and out came a bodyguard, some agent-types and... some starlet!?

I was busy qwelling about my performance during the interview to my agent when I noticed that as the entourage passed and the flashbulbs sparkled -a smoking woman across the doorway from me, was taking her cigarette break and not really responding to the fuss, in fact not so much as a blink crossed her nonchallantly gazing eyes. Very relaxed and into her smoke.

After my call was completed, I went over to her and asked if she knew who the young ingenue clad in the black dress might have been. She responded with,

"Hilary... something..."

I immediately clicked on the second part of her nomenclature: "Duff"!

Yup! That was Hilary Duff all right. But the smoking woman was still unfazed -although she did complement my ability to decipher the mystery (frankly, I think she may have been pulling my leg). Nonetheless, I conversed with the smoking woman for another moment or two (so it wouldn't seem as though I was just "using" her) and then got on my way. I was wondering what Hilary Duff was doing here... was she being interviewed also?

So now, here I was in June. Not a single showbiz gig for a month... (and although there were castcalls, neither Spiderman 3 or Enchanted allowed "repeat extras" in their new June scenes) -when along comes this chance-sighting. So I guess it wasn't a total wash after all. I guess this will have to do for now. Thanks Hilary... you made my month!

Later, in the comfort of my home, while watching NBC that night, the announcer mentioned that Conan O'Brien's guest was going to be Hilary Duff. So I stayed up to 1 in the morning and watched her sit in the "gecko-chair". She wore the same black dress... Bingo!

Spiderman 3 on the Avenue of the Americas

2006-05-28T22:45:00.000-04:00

The 6:AM call time meant that I'd have to get up at 4:20 AM to catch the 5:11 AM train... (yawn).

But I knew that I'd sacrafice my sleep-time and whatever Memorial Day plans I had -just to be on this set for 3 days as a background extra. The ordeal was draining -but well worth it. I put 36.94 hours into standing around, running in fear, fighting with makebelieve cops, avoiding computer debris from hitting me on the head -and of course clicking away a few paparazzi-style pictures of the cast and crew.

Our director for the first two days was Sam Raimi. He was the first director I've ever seen on set to constantly be wearing a suit. Most of the "trendy" directors wear some type of "nuveau hat" or jacket or some outlandish color that allows their clothes to be noticed. Not Sam. He was neat, focused and professionally kind. He personally addressed the extras with respect and gave a clear synopsis of what we were expected to do. He also did something very classy... he spoke to the gawking tourist crowd and took pictures with them... he also invited a few of the enlisted men to come onto the set and watch the movie making from a few feet away. Observing his style, I developed great respect for him. It's too bad he didn't stick around for the third day. "Unit 2" apparently had a director with a much more different style and all of a sudden there were delays, mishaps, walk-away meals (read: buy your own lunch), and even a thunderstorm which suspended shooting for an hour. I hope Sam returns soon.

The fun part of watching the stunts take place was mezmerizing. The "real Spiderman" (a.k.a. stuntman Henry Amos) was swinging through the canyon of tall buildings on 6th Avenue with Ron Howard's pretty daughter, Bryce Dallas Howard hugging him. The tethers on their torsos were attached to two large cranes -one for the vertical lift and one to create the arc-swing. I was repeatedly amazed by how gently the two actors were able to land on the debris-strewn concrete fountain area. All of the extras were snapping away with their low resolution telephone-cameras, while I had my handy-dandy digital Sony doing a little zooming at a much higher resolution. One of the PA's eventually begged us not to do it in front of the producers! (Otherwise it was O.K.)

In one scene we were told to react and run for our lives as a loud explosion took place and precariously placed desks and computer equipment went dropping all around us. One of the desks landed in the windshield of a taxi cab and another piece of metal crushed a vendor's hot dog stand with broken girders all over the place. I couldn't help but "reminisce" about my experiences during 9/11... Other extras also had a similar reaction to this scene. But thank goodness we have a "friendly neighborhood Spiderman" to look over us!

Bryce, having been saved, ran to the arms of her police-chief father, played by the ubiquitous actor James Cromwell. He is another magnanimous actor who likes to go sit with the extras on occasion and sign autographs. I love that down-to-earth attitude. Enter the scene, Topher Grace (he's shorter than I expected), with camera in hand, interviewing Spiderman while clicking away at his visage. Something was not satisfactory with Topher and he started to pace back and forth while discussing the scene with Sam Raimi.

While this is going on, I elbow my friend and mention how funny it is to see these guys going at it while some little shrimp in a white shirt and sunglasses is standing next to them eating chinese food from a takeout dish. I was then quickly and comicly corrected with the explanation that the kid in the white shirt was in fact Tobey Maguire. Coooool!

So he was here after all. And it suddently struk me how weird it was to see the stuntman in costume, Tobey the eating-actor, and a close look-alike in an orange polo shirt who was his stand-in for light and distance measurements -all of whom, as a conglomeration, were needed to depict Spiderman. (One for the price of 3 -That's the American economy. I suddenly have a deeper understanding of the speedy US debt-counting sign nearby which is showing the amount to be in the KAZILLLION dollar range at the moment. Oh well, I guess we'll just have to export more movies).

Breakfast and lunch for the first two days went really well... especially the 2nd day, when we had blackened cajun catfish and tons of garnish and desert to go along with it at the Roseland Ballroom. Throughout the day there were little sandwiches being passed out to the crew. The rule was that the crew must be the first to take from the tray... and if there's anything left over, we, the extras, could have it. I guess it's part of the Caste Laws in the Movie-Manu System. Needless to say, there were few, if any mid-day sandwiches left. But I kept a bottle of water in my pocket. This came in very handy because the weather turned really warm (we're talking 80's) and all of us were told to wardrobe for autumn weather (suits, scarves, gloves, overcoats). My raincoat was black and it absorbed heat like a sponge. Other extras were stripping off their clothes between takes. It was a real do-your-laundry provoking scene. Even Spidey was dragging his ass.

The three days ended and some of us exchanged emails so we could share the pictures we took on the set. One of the guys who asked me to take a picture of him in "costume", was a "ticket concierge" and said he would be "helpfull" in getting me any tickets to theater shows and concerts. I'll be testing that offer pretty soon! My other background buddies are shown below.

The following day I got an offer to work on the Spiderman set again... in 2 weeks. So I guess this is a "to be continued" ending!

Auditioning in Connecticut

2006-05-25T13:01:00.000-04:00

It had to be one of the rainyest days for my drive up to the Norwalk studio. But 60 miles later I had arrived at a pretty modern setup in the middle of a family-style quaint and quiet neighborhood. As I approached the entrance, it was laden with tons of electronic equipment, neatly arranged and well organized. A young woman was speaking to a tall man as she greeted me and welcomed my "talent" status inside the hipster-stylized abode. Friendly, yes... but all business in attitude. I was asked if I wanted any refreshments, given my lines and seated inside the studio's grand white backgrounded set. I found my cofort and began to internally rehearse the syllabus:

"The doctors and nurses at St. Vincent's gave me superb care...
[pause]
...I'd trust them with my grandson!"

I pretty much glanced at it and had it down pat. Two lines of script. How easy is THAT?

The young cameraman came in and fiddled with the video camera that I would be slating in front of pretty soon. It was quiet for a while... and then I broke the ice with him by stating that the white background of the studio looked like something out of "THX1138"! That got him to look up and immediately shmooze about the film. (After all, that was George Lucas' first big breakthrough in the early 1970's... and one of my personal all-time favorite movies). Our banter was soon interrupted by the cordial director, Paul, who explained the scenario and got me right up in front of the camera. He did a few takes with a couple of different suggestions and then asked if it would be alright for him to make my hair look more "salt & peppery" for the hospital ad. "No problem." I heard myself respond. But internally I had instantly grasped that I was too young for the part and that unless a miracle took place, I wasn't going to be making the $600 bucks for this stint. But cordial-Paul asked if I'd be available on Monday and Tuesday if the client had decided in my favor. To which, of course, I had no problem aquiescing... again knowing fully well that this would be a very remote possibility. The part really called for a more silver-haired grandfatherly-frail-looking old bugger.

This was a complete reversal of my full-time job interviews, where jobs are predominantly given to those who are young. You just can't win!

So I got back into my car and drove antother 60 miles back home through the avalanching thunderstorm. Cost of trip (gas, tolls, nerves): $30.00 plus "interest". I don't think I want to travel across state lines for an acting job -unless pay is assured (and how many times have I said that before?).

Now my mercenary side is starting to kick in!!!

Banking on a commercial in Brewster, NY

2006-05-05T00:35:00.000-04:00

First and foremost, the craft food services were EXCELLENT! Much more extravagant when compared with the cheap Disney or skimpy Warner Brothers food provisions for the extras on set. The other feel-good moment came when friends from previous gigs started showing up. And still better was the fact that we were 75 miles upstate from NYC -and we were breathing clean air. That made up for the 3 previous days of sucking bus fumes in Times Square. Also my cold was starting to subside.

Three small movie theaters made up the location kown as Empire Cinemas. Our holding area was in one of them and we settled comfortably into the modern cushy rocking seats. In the lobby and in the next movie room, the crew was doing the lighting setup. In the third movie theater, we had the hot lunch arrangement. Holding didn't take too long and we were all called into action at the lobby. I was placed with one of the women I had met at the ONE NINE shoot. As a couple, we and the rest of the extras, would grab the popcorn from the counter and head into the theater. The director was a hearty and energetic soul who went by the name of Ed Buffman. He was jocular but stern with a good focus on what he wanted to accomplish. The principals consisted of a young couple, whose overly-cordial banker would provide them with everything they needed -even before they needed it!

"I got your tickets… RIGHT HERE!… Here's your popcorn… JUST THE WAY YOU LIKE IT!"

Upon which he ushered them into the apparently fully seated movie theater, walked up to two isle seats and grabbed a bar which had been joining two "mannequin seat holders" together, raising them into the air with the obvious service of making sure his bank customers had seats. Everyone cracked up laughing. But after a couple of takes it became routine to see the dummies' arms dangling helplessly while the "smart banker" provided his enthusiastic grin between their lifeless heads. The shoot was over before 4:00 PM and we got paid $100 (that's more than what Warner Bros. and Disney pay their extras). The gas and toll (at today's $3.12 /gal prices) unfortunately offset the euphoria. Tolls = $9.00, Gas = $25.00… That nets only $66.00. Might as well be working for Warner Bros. or Disney.

The actors networked and I got the email address of a casting broker whom I had tried to contact two months ago via phone -without much success. Her name is Desiree and I've heard that she gets jobs for background extras on a fairly regular basis (more than once a month). However, she does take 10% of your gross pay for each gig. I sent her a request to put me on her email list to get the process rolling. Got a strange feeling about this one…

In the meantime, my other avocation's headhunters were beginning to call me. It seems that the "real world" jobs were starting to pick up and I might start getting some face-time soon. Hollywood may have to wait for me a bit longer.

ENCHANTED in Times Square

2006-05-04T00:42:00.001-04:00

Three days… I spent 3 exhausting days at the center of the universe: Times Square, New York City.

Of course the story line for the tongue-in-cheek fantasy movie, Enchanted, describes this location as the worst possible place in the real-world. And that's exactly where a cartoon-world princess (Amy Adams) is to be banished by the evil queen (Susan Sarandon). She is followed by the handsome prince (James Marsden) and his rotund friend (Anthony Spall), so that they could rescue her and return to the perfect happily-ever-after cartoon-land called Andalasia (aka: the production company working for the Disney money-machine).
But things get complicated… the princess falls in love with a real-world almost-married man (Patrick Dempsey)… and… I guess I'll have to go to the movies to see how the story ends.

Had I not done my research on the IMDB website during the previous night, I would still be in a fog about what my role as a tourist in the background would have signified in the context of the movie's story. This is typical of most shoots -"they keep us in the dark and feed us mushrooms"... or something like that. As I observed during the course of the production, no one on the set was able to give a clear synopsis of what the movie was supposed to be about. And I find that attitude to be the typical level of work-related-IQ for most of the crew I've chatted with in the past. Either they are uncaringly aloof or they're just into "guarding the secret" (so that they won't have to go into a long-winded spiel about the meaning of our purpose each time one of us asks for our "motivation").

The first day was a 6:00 AM call. A chilly, albeit sunny day was spent between the various filth-laden curbs and ominously dangerous crossing-islands created by the intersection of Broadway and 7th Avenue. The food services for the 300 extras was skimpy and lacking any appetizing appearance. Many people thought that the ersatz-egg-salad sandwiches were constructed of some kind of astronaut-food powder. I stuck to eating fruits and cheese… occasionally flushing it down with some grapefruit juice. I figured the citric acid would kill any germs that may have been cultivated while awaiting our anxious fingers to rip open their plastic-enshrined confines. Some of us decided to seek culinary-euphoria at any of the nearby quick-food establishments (Shbarro's Pizza, MickyD's fries, and Starbuck's cafeinated panacea). Standing in the breezy chill while the "prince" was stabbing a New York City bus or prancing through the sea of yellow traffic; we snuk inside the food and hotel establishments between takes, seeking an atmosphere that would return the natural color of our now bluish skin. I had developed a nasty cough and later that week had to be put on antibiotics.

A roving band of FOX5's camera crew invaded our nearby corner and quizzed passersby with some political questions. If you answered it right, you got a FOX5 t-shirt. I couldn't resist!

"State your name and where you're from!"
"Who named the White House… "White House"?…

…and BAM! I won a t-shirt (which immediately contributed a degree of Fahrenheit to my body's low core temperature). I love America. You just have to wish for stuff and there it is. I was warm for the rest of the day.

The second day was warmer but the filming wasn't progressing with any great success and some of us (150 strong) were given a chance to come back for a third (and final) day to help complete the necessary background effects. Now that my unemployment benefits were exhausted, the extra work came in handy. Occasionally we were taken back to the holding area where the friendly banter created some interesting verbal exchanges and autobiographical sketches of those in our immediate circle of extras. When the chatter wound down, I took out my playing cards and taught the group how to play "I DOUBT YOU!". This was a huge success as we all tried to bluff our way to a win. One of the beginners won… Naturally!

Soon we were back on sin-city's streets, guided by our fearless handlers and placed into position. While there, any number of foreign tourists would stop and snap off a few digital pictures… and also try to sneak into our group. This was not a good choice on their part because our fearless production assistants immediately recognized their colorful garb (we were all told to dress in muted and drab colors) and guided them politely (yet firmly) away from our area. This "tourist invasion" was unceasing throughout the day and the procedure would be repeated countless times during the course of the shoot. I still don't know how the production crew thought they could control a NYC crowd in Times Square without the help of the riot-police or at least some tape. No-my-yob. I took it all in with smiles. After all, here I was standing in the middle of Times Square . A sense of tranquillity waved through me as I looked across at George M. Cohan's statue and thought: "I finally made it to where I needed to be... crossroads of the fantasy and the real-world at large.".

(EPILOGUE: The final release of the film showed me in 3 areas: 1 behind Timothy Spall, when he appears out of the manhole, another when the prince stabs the bus and has a confrontation with the bus driveress, and a third when the busdriveress is in panic mode -trying to get the chipmonk off her body... see me at the red arrows below).

The Reconstruction of JANE FONDA

2006-04-18T16:14:00.000-04:00

My wife loves to read biographies - amongst which she's been reading "My Life, So Far" by Jane Fonda. So when she heard about her book-signing appearance at the Union Square Barnes & Noble... well, "we just had to be there"!

B&N had a part of their 4th floor set up for the occasion and issued "red wrist-bands" for the "lucky" first ones to arrive. This entitled us to a seat near the front -wherein we sat for the better part of an hour and a half, awaiting Lady Jane. The people of Union Square have been known to be, ummm, "somewhat politically eccentric" (that's about as understated as I can make it). As an example, the guy sitting in front of us had his entire newspaper clipping-collection in his handy-dady duffelbag (you never know when one might have to site some "reliable" material). He and the two guys sitting around him were debating the downward spiral of WBAI's popularity since the radio station's anti-semitic rhetoric became more rabid and was denounced by Garry Null. The guy behind us was muttering politically incorrect sounds to himself (people should only do that with a fake cellphone attached to their ears). And then a well-dressed drunk sat near us, professing to the man next to him that he was psychic. This immediately started an exchange about "Oh...do you believe in intelligent life on other planets?". And at that point, Jane Fonda walked in with a couple of escorts.

The stage had two large pictures of litterary sybolism on either side of the signing desk. Jane walked passed the one with Gulliver starting to wake up as the Liliputians were trying to tie him down. When the host introduced her, she walked over to the microphoned podium and began to comment on the inspiration of her book. She was now in front of a large picture of Moby Dick with it's maw open. As the Q&A began between the audience and her, I was tempted to ask her opinion about the irony of her standing there, being dressed in white and juxtaposed against Ahab's favorite obsession. But I held my tongue and took in the show.

Her responses were interesting. She was angry at Hillary Clinton for "not being braver" but conceeded that there was something imperfect about every politician. She denounced the fake photos with John Kery... and the historical revisionism regarding the "truth" of Viet Nam. One guy from the audience was thinking of leaving the US because of his "disappointment"... she urged that "we need to stay here and fight for what we believe in". And then a clergyman stood to ask her a question:

"You seem to have come to spirituality late in life... how do you see that impacting your '3rd Act'?"

Her response was a bit comical but still poignant: "I come too late in everything. But when I come it's a 100%." She went on to say that the "empty place" in some peoples' lives gets filled with... addictions (she was always trying to please people -at the cost of her own lack of development, leaving her as someone who had no confidence in herself during her youth)... and she mentioned that she is presently attending school as a divinity student. Her perspective from the days of Barbarella have been redefined and now she is enjoying her older life... her 3rd Act. She also confided that the only thing missing is "intimacy" -sex was easy, but a meaningful, loving relationship is something that she is still looking for.

Then we all lined up and got the book signed and the pictures taken and the experience filed away under the notation of Act 2, Scene 99.

CASH in the Ring Of Fire

2006-04-05T14:34:00.000-04:00

It was a pretty good musical... accompanied by some very innovative electronic scenery.

We craned our necks to see stage-right situated beneath our protruding box seats, but it was worth the effort. Especially since the singers and the musicians were terrific. The part of Johnny Cash was played in four different ways by four different actors at different times of his life... which in this depiction was mostly set around his songs. And that was OK with me and the friends we went with... but it was the simple stageset in the background that was the most magical of all. In fact, they were "TV sets". Literally!
3 huge TV's were being manipulated both physically and image-wise as the backdrop changed from countryside to Main Street to Bar scene (complete with well timed "broken bottles falling" as the actors bumped into it). Very cleverly done. It certainly kept my attention riveted to see how they would arrange them next.

I've only been on stage occasionally during my distant "yut(h)". Once as a chorus singer during 3rd grade, then playing a Spaniard dignitary from South America in the 4th grade... and recently, I actually won a bottle of champagne while participating in silly stuff in front of a packed audience at a hotel in Eilat. But otherwise, I haven't really pursued participation in theatrics... it's too repetitious. Doing the same act, night-after-night? Not for me. But I do like watching a live performance... good, bad or otherwise, and consequently I must have seen a hundred or more plays in the past (thanks to the low rates offered by TDF).

With the show over, it was off to nearby Cafe La Madelaine to discuss our impressions while dining on French food and drinking some red wine... and reflecting on how lucky we are to be able to do this every now and then.

The pits

2006-04-02T20:56:00.000-04:00

What a piss-hole it is behind the Port Authority... beneath the bus-overpass ramp on 9th Avenue!

As I was treking through this area from 34th Street to 47th Street, to get one of my meager showbiz paychecks, I had suddenly dropped my usual apathetic armor for a moment and realized the world I was now smack in the middle of. Homeless men with puke on their clothes and barely-filled liquor bottles sticking out of their jacket pockets were leaning toward the dark end of a dilapidated garbage alley. One hand propping themselves up while the other was hidden from view in front of their pants, leaving the barricading chainlink fences with dripping urine onto the sidewalk. A block later there’s a cornerstore-pantry advertising 99cent pizza… one shady customer biting into it’s spongelike crust as his nose drips snot onto the “savory” goo passing for food at this 9^th Avenue locale of the wretched refuse. Most subway stops also have "the aroma" and it’s not much different on the upper west side either. As I walked past Zabar’s delicatessen the other day, on my way to an early morning movieshoot, I saw homeless people leaning on the multicolored freebie-newspaper dispenser stands and sleeping standing-up. Their clothes wreaking of urine, their skin bruised and bloodied from countless fights and falls, while uninvolved shopkeepers hosed down the sidewalk around them… only to spread the stench of the concentrated urine left behind by the nameless wraiths we call bums. I can not help them -though I wish I could. But I can’t pass them by without thinking that I could soon end up like one of them. And considered how it would all start?

Lately, I feel like it's already started... the depression of the downward spiral.

It begins when you start to turn down unpaid gigs. And before you know it, other opportunities suddenly evaporate as well. The phone falls silent; the emails stop coming. It appears as though a kind of balancing act was constantly making karmic adjustments to keep your ego in check (just in case you might drift toward thinking that you're better than anyone else).

I declined an audition for a lawyer part in a Hofstra student film. The reason being was that a part-time job had come along with a web-design company that I decided to take, in order to stay in touch with some semblance of my former reality. In fact this position came about just after I had agreed to take on a crude web-design assignment for one of my relatives. Guess I put some kind of energy into momentum that had vortexed me toward a new direction. The “web-job” had a lot of elements I’d always dreamt of: A venue to express my creativity through some form of designing art while still being connected to the technology I had been trained to work with… along with a short drive to work and short hours... there's minimum pressure (and minimum wage). Alas no real income but plenty of future possibilities… and the possibility of eventual independence.

Unfortunately, my showbiz “career” was immediately affected. I had missed an important (and well paid… $3000+) “farmer modeling role” because I had kept my cell phone on “mute” as a result of not wanting any interference during my web-design day-gig. Although I returned the call within 2 hours, the part was given to someone else. Also, I had to rescind my availability as a volunteer for the Tribeca Film Festival. And soon after, a 2-day weekend shoot was cancelled because the director’s camera parts were missing and her set-design was destroyed!?! Ironicly, the web-job ended prematurely as well (due to the fallout from the latest legal decisions against Microsoft). It would seem that the 2 worlds can not coexist without immediate complications of one or the other -or both at the same time.

All this has made me reticent to take on anymore unpaid showbiz gigs. As a result, I’m now officially wearing Gurdjieff’s "galoshes" and attempting to ride 2 horses with one ass!

TRAVELER at the Waldorf-Astoria

2006-03-20T20:29:00.000-05:00

Another 7:AM call... for the Warner Brothers/ABC-TV pilot called "Traveler". But luckily it was to be in NYC at the famous Waldorf-Astoria. Rene, the Sylvia Fay(e) rep had led me to believe that we would be filming in the lobby.

No.

It was outside. It was the first day of Spring. It was snowing!!!
And since we had to be background extras in business suits, we froze our nuggies OFF... and so did the principals (one of whom was Logan Marshall-Green) from the TV series, "The OC".

But I have to say, that the film crew, headed by the director David Nutter,

was a tenacious bunch and kept us working almost from the time we arrived to the time we finished at 3:PM. Yes, lunch was served but only after the SAG guys had their fill. This class-distinction is still not sitting well with me. One of the women, with whom I had to walk with, told about her experience on a set with Nicole Kidman, who was very gracious and invited the extras to eat from the SAG-side. She also mentioned that Jimmy Falon was one of the friendliest person since he mingled and chatted with the extras on a regular basis during his movies. Robert DeNero also has a good rep among the extras as being the best food provider. Apparently he caters from the best places and makes sure the extras eat well. I still feel there should be a revolution of sorts to keep everyone on an even food-keel during the filming. I'm neither a socialist or a communist but I do believe in equality when it comes to food. This Hollywoodier-than-thou caste-system has got to go.

A sober reminder of my relationship to this industry came when we were being herded from our holding area at St. Bartholemew's to temporarily line up against it's walls prior to heading over to the Waldorf... our handler kept telling us to "Stay against the wall and let the 'real people' pass by!". It "brought me back" to thinking about my first post on this blog -pertaining to the "phantom zone" existence in which I was... or rather, was not.

EPILOGUE: That's me as a hotel patron passing by the boys as they rush into the Waldorf in the 1st episode.

August Rush in March

2006-03-15T22:15:00.000-05:00

Silvia Fay's rep, Ali, gave me a call last night with a "check-in-number" and the "call-in line" to get the rest of the details for the Newark shoot. It was to be 7:AM!!! Yiykes... I'd have to wake up at 4:30 AM to drive there in time. Fully well knowing that I'd probably be waiting hours prior to being called on to the set and lamenting my obsessiveness to be punctiual. Of course, I was right. But Ali had told me that the movie had Robin Williams and Kerri Russell in it -and I really wanted to see those guys. So I relented and decided to do the "time".

I drove to the NJ site and discovered that we, extras, were not allowed to take advantage of the holding area's (Robert Treat Hotel) free parking space which I had been counting on. We'd have to use the public parking building across the street ($15... caching!), the total toll turned out to be $17.50... so that's $32.50 for the honor of being in a Robin Williams film! Compensation: 94.50 + 7.50 (had to haggle for it) = $102.00. So I guess I would go with it (even though it will get me to lose $100.00 from my next week's unemployment check). Sacrifices I make for "my art"... and so did a few hudred other extras!

The holding room was the Victoria Room in the Robert Treat Hotel across the street from NJ PAC (the Newark equivalent of Lincoln Center), where the filming was taking place. We all checked in, got our vouchers filled out and settled down for a 7 hour wait. Lots of chatting, reading, iPod playing, and other innovative time wasters were being conducted at each of the tables in the large dining-room-type set up. But none of them were as whacky as our table. We had Keren -the "almost violin player"!

Her talkative exhuberance was inexhaustable. It seems she forgot to "take her meds today"! The consequences of which allowed us to observe a relentless yaking for hours on end. It started with her being picked to portray a "real violin player". Apparently, when she was taken by the PA's to the filming site, the audition didn't work out and she was replaced by a "fake violin player" -Carl, the tuxedo guy! This started an endless lambasement of poor Carl and it didn't stop until he good-naturedly brought over his "just-for-show" $38 violin and Karen made an attempt to play it. Although she had studied violin at a younger age, she was unable to bring forth any sounds that would even remotely resemble violin playing. All that, after her rantings about being trained by Izhak Pearlman and desciples of Yasha Heifitz. Eventually, her wind dissipated and we were conversing on the "sane plane" (for about 10 minutes). And it was at that point we were requested to accompany our handlers to the filming site across the street.

Our purpose was simple: look like upperclass patrons of the theater while applauding the cello-playing virtuoso embodied by the role of Kerri Russell. We, the audience, would be moved around the huge theater several times for special effects later to be provided on a blue screen. As a result, a few hundred patrons will appear to be a few thousand in the CG-editing room. Kerri Russell was the only star in this scene and it was interesting to observe her acting... very minimalist (IMHO). Still, it was a bit of a charge to see her. And that 's what this whole ordeal was really about for most of us. To see a star... whether she twinkles or not.

While moving around the theater, we had different seating partners and numerous sound-byte introductions. I asked the guy next to me why he had chosen to do this work. He explained that although he was 33 years old, he had a very high-pressure job and had suffered an increase in his heart beat (160 per minute) and some liver problems as well. It took the doctors 22 hours to get his heart back to normal and now he was ordered to stay away from tension-causing situations. Another fellow was a high-level executive, who left his lucrative workplace because it was causing him to miss out on his family life. Now he was involved with locating antiques (hence allowing him a personal pleasure of pursuing historical artifacts) and selling them on E-bay. As we relocated again and again -I wound up next to a very happy woman who had been miserable as a teacher for 40 years and now she was "pursuing her dreams" by being in movies. Still another person whom I rubbed elbows with, admitted that this background-extras job had too much waiting associated with it, and she would never do it again! I was still wondering why I was doing it... It certainly wasn't because of the money. And how long before I too, would lose the magic of the diversionary "pixie dust"?

I suppose my introspective response would be that the "industry of illusion" has ironicly given me a sense of purpose -if only for an undetermined short time.

Just God and me

2006-03-13T16:56:00.000-05:00

She descends effortlessly through the smokey clouds (of dry ice) and hands me (a business-suited politico type), the golden egg, with which I play and then, in turn, hand it over to a soldier who manages to break it -whereupon the gooey mess is seen dripping all over the map of the world... and yada, yada, yada. So now I'm doing politics and mixing it with religion.

Well, I liked the idea that I'd be playing a "support role" to God, so I stuck around for the grueling seven hour wait for the scenery to be prepared. It seems that no one ever prepares their set on time but the "talent" has to be on site and availble -no matter what! The crew was nice and I got to chat with Bobby (aka "God"), an Indian girl who's family hails from British Guiana in South America. She was 20-ish, shapely albeit with a diminutive build and a very calm demeanor. Nonetheless, she had broken away from her parents' influence and decided to have "fun" in the fantasy world that we were presently filming. (There's something "Pinnoccioan" about her story and I was wondering what my role here really was. )

In my mind, I couldn't escape the invevitable effect of my superimposing her deific role upon her mortal personality. And it was wreaking havoc with my psyche. Here I was, conversing with someone who has "somehow" been selected to play "God"... and I'd be "Her" co-star! Hmmm, so this is what "Joan of Arcadia" must have felt like.

Ironic, because just a few days ago I had whimsicly considered applying for a "reality show" wherein you had to submit an idea for starting a new religion. I had developed this whole idea about the religion of the ORB (Thanks again Woody!)... and the leader would be the "subORB"... the congregation would meet in a circle and each follower would ... well, never mind. Needless to say, I never submitted anything. But it was fun thinking about it. The stipend offered was to be $5000 and you would have a film crew follow you around and witness how succesfull you would be in recruiting some "followers". And today, here I was, face to face with "God". An omen for sure! (As in: "Oh man... don't you be messin' with my turf!")

All in all, a very inspiring shoot.

An INDUSTRIAL gig

2006-03-07T12:13:00.000-05:00

I got the call while chatting with some artists at the NY Art Show in the Javits Center -I suppose that being there, was an indication of sorts, given the "industrial" nature of the artworks being exhibited. Giclee… phooey!
Oh well, at least I got to pose with MM.

Call time for the Sunday shoot was 9:AM at the Chelsea Market on 9th Avenue and 15th Street. It's a renovated old structure that has become a combination office space and shopping mall. A welcome "sheeky-trendy" spot for Chelsea's west-side financial infusion.

Heading for the second bank of elevators, I heard some steps clicking behind me through the deserted early morning corridors of the pealing brick walled mall. I held the door and was pleasantly surprised by a young woman whose whispery enunciations of gratitude upon her entrance to the elevator recrated a Marilyn Monroe-type of mystique (perhaps a leftover flashback from yesterday). I guessed at her destination being the same as mine -to which she confessed… and a sense of "mutual functionality" between two strangers had now been established (as opposed to just being "who's this creep in the elevator with me").

We were greeted by our Production Manager in the 6th floor offices of NY1/Time Warner, who immediately provided for a few introductions of the people we'd be working with and ushered us to our holding area: a company-lounge with plenty of space, breakfast food and a couple of "lounging extras". After being wardrobed and madeup… we were brought back to holding and began to consume the bagel and cream-cheese delicacies. The rest of the floor was a modern-designed wide office space complete with a news-caster's stage and lots of electronic editing rooms. I was impressed.

Sean was our director and he called me and a few others for an office scenario discussion. He described four scenes: Finance, HR, Marketing and Executive. As it turned out I got to be in 3 out of 4. During the first scenario, I was standing near the ad-client's copy machine (RICOH), pressing a button, grabbing a sheet of paper and begining a succession of mobile chain-reactive office interactions. While the crew was setting up, I was fooling around with the copy machine and kept screwing it up. Lights were flashing and alarms were beeping!? This activity did not go unnoticed by the intrepid film crew and after a few takes, I was told to change places with a tall, skinny, young German-accented guy by the name of Gabriel. I was placed into a "safe cubicle" where my "paper-interactions" would be more benign -albeit still in the frame shots. The film crew kept bumping their camera-dolly into the desks as they rolled back and forth to get the right shot. The dolly was being pushed and pulled by an ADP whose aim wasn't always within the tolerance levels of the narrow office aisle. As it turned out, sitting in the cube was the best deal since the bumpy shots took 2 hours to straighten out. With all the advanced camera equipment around, I couldn't understand why they didn't use the customary rails. Wow… I realized I was getting smart… I'd better shut up and just enjoy the show. The second scene went better (the aisles were wider)!

The final scene of the day was the Executive meeting room. For those who only got to be in this scene, the waiting time in the lounge was close to 8 hours. At least the TV in the lounge room and the munchies would keep them semi-conscious. Otherwise it's a brutal ordeal -especially if you're not loquacious, sleepy or don't know how to meditate. I kept conversing with my elevator buddy and her attractive friends. One of them kept complaining that whenever she got hungry, she'd have an anxiety attack. I made sure to keep some candy in my pocket -just in case she decided to go cannibalistic. Gabe came over and we hit off a friendship when he found out that I was Hungarian: it's that "European thang"! Eventually, as we spoke, I found myself accenting my own English in perfect Zelig-like style. (Thank you Woody Allen, for putting that neurosis in my psyche.)

We, the "executives" were now all in suits and ushered into the modern boardroom for a meeting-scene. The "CEO" would walk from the copy machine with new favorable info and distribute it to us at the table, where "smiles of approval" would abound. Sounds simple… BUT… by 8:PM we were all getting "loopy" and the cross-banter was making all of us giggle… until we finally got the scene down pat and it was a WRAP. Haleluyah!!! Time to get paid our 100 bucks.

The kicker: we had to fill out W-9 forms...
Translation: paid by check within… a month…two at the most!? ...and of course, there would be the dreaded tax-deduction! A typical industry tactic that reduces your real income. Even worse, my unempoyment check got docked $100 for my "working" one day. That just inspired me to expound a few immature expletives: Shnitzelgrooben and BASZ MEG!

CUT-oh!

2006-03-02T19:42:00.000-05:00

This was a real “Lost in Translation” experience. I was told to go to 77 Bleeker Street for the Japanese TV-ASAHI documentary about MADONNA! The address was easy to find –problem was that there was no crew there. After a couple of phone calls and some frantic door-to-door searches, it turned out to be a basement bar, next to a café near the corner of Greenwich Village's Broadway. Went downstairs and opened the heavy doors into a dark, cozy, warm and confusing scene of young people in various stages of costume changes, makeup and spinning dance steps. The crew was there and from what I gathered, were mainly conversant solely in Japanese. As I approached one of them to ask for instructions, he asked my name and after telling it to him he began to call me “Russ”. Wrong-O! When I corrected him, he kept repeating the same name “Russ”. OK?... I figured it was the confusion of pronouncement problems that Japanese people have between the “L” and “R” –the old “rots of ruck” stereotyping. I was told by the oriental agent, who went by the name of Henry, to settle in somewhere -so I found a corner on the cushioned periphery of the lounge and changed into my silk shirt per instructions for the 70's/80's period wardrobe. As it turned out it was the perfect outfit because the scene was to depict the “early years” of young Madonna as she hung out in various dance bars. I began watching the dancing dudes do their fancy steps with “added verve” when I suddenly realized what kind of bar-scene was being shot as the director’s heavy accented instructions were enunciated…

“GAY BAR SCENE!”

One of the PA’s was asked to round up the guys. She started saying, “We need gays at the bar…” When no one responded she figured she had made the wrong pronouncements so she started requesting “ … we need the homos…”. One of her asian friends started to giggle and waved her back for a little western-PC consultation.

In those days, Madonna was picking up gay guys to dance with. The actress depicting Madonna was a cute blonde, overly made up in rouge and frizzed-out hair. She played her part with great exuberance which was demonstrated by a slight wardrobe malfunction as her “boobies” (her words) popped out of her dress. Prior to each take there would be some emotive Japanese instructions from Hiro, the director, which was followed by the english interpretation from Mariko –our female interface to the mysterious whirlwind methods of Japanese TV/movie making. At the end of each take, the Japanese DP would shout “CUT-oh!”. And Mariko would translate for the rest of us: "CUT!"

My part in all this was background bar-fly and way-background-dancer. When the crew couldn’t remember my name, they would call me the “older guy”. Since I wasn’t exactly very active in any of the scenes, I figured that I’d just fade out with the rest of the crowd as we wrapped up the bar scene and got ready to go home. BUT noooooooo! Henry, the director asked me if I could stay another two hours to do one more scene uptown?! Given the sexual predilection of the existing atmosphere, I began to stutter. Uh… w-w-hat was the scene? H-h-ow far uptown?? (Why me?)

"We make you judge”! (Oh good… my “older guy” status had paid off. I'd be doing a "featured role".) And as the gay guys left, it was me and the girls and one other guy packed into the movie van, zipping along the FDR drive chatting about acting schools, method, Meisner, Stanislavski, Brad Pitt, Nicolas Cage, Dustin Hoffman and having a great pseudo-thespian time. Mariko was ordering “lunch” for us from a fancy Japanese restaurant. We arrived at a church (what else is new) near 1st Avenue and 88th Street, where we snuck quietly in the back, past the main sanctuary, where some services were being conducted. (I realized on my subway ride home later, from looking at the darkened foreheads of the passengers, that it was Ash Wednesday .) We went down some winding stairways, up a rickety old elevator to the 3rd floor and opened an aging door to a dilapidated gym. Aging... dilapidated... I knew I was in the right place.

The scene was Madonna’s high school days – she was doing cheerleading. But there was one thing missing:

“MAKEUP-oh!”

Madonna needed to have “arm-pit hair”. This was a real scream. The ticklish application kept her laughing in stitches while the rest of us were rolling on the floor every time she raised her “cheer-leading arms”. Then came the “judges scene”… just as "lunch" had arrived at 9:PM. A stack of warm goodies (a.k.a. motivation) were waiting for us on the table across the gym while we, the 2 judges, were seated as Madonna pleaded with us to let her in to dancing school. My role was to tic-toc my index finger and say “Not this time!”… then wave her to leave.

They shot the scene from every inanely significant angle and finally kiai-ed the word we were all waiting for -so we could eat…

“CUT-oh!”

We grabbed our dishes and dug in. Very tasty, very good… but the crew was not eating!?
They were packing franticly. And inside of a couple of minutes we were asked to leave (apparently they only rented the space for a short time and evacuating it was of paramount import). Damn! I had to rush eating (hate that) and didn’t get the chance to finish the rice. I scrambled, packed up my stuff and felt the rush of freezing weather around me as I exited the house of peace all by myself, carrying the unfinished dish of rice. No ride was offered to the railroad… in fact they had all evaporated like ninjas… the job was done. It was back to Japan for them because, as I found out – it would air this Saturday! Wow… these guys are fast. Perhaps too fast, because they never asked us to sign any wavers. I guess it's not needed in Japan? Visions of vast amounts of Japanese yens for residuals went through my dreamscape... as I foresaw the eventual favorable outcome of an international law suit: "RUSS vs. TV-ASAHI" for unauthorized use of my image. As it turned out, eventually the whole documentary was put on YOUTUBE.com and I got paid fifty bucks from Henry. ( Flashback to 1991: I was at a tech-fair in my former job, where a couple of celbrity look-alikes were posing... one of them was Madonna-con-mia.)

During my walk to the Lexington Avenue subway station, all I could think about was plotting out how I could find a place to sit and enjoy the rice. But as my five block walk-of-obsession progressed, I realized how the cold weather would affect it and how the taste and consistency would turn it into an unappetizing clump… but I still wanted it and began scheming about how I’d be eating it on the train… and then a kind of zen moment pervaded my primal instincts for the gluttonous goal of my culinary satisfaction… and I realized that I ‘wanted it way too much”… and that there was something wrong in that. So I stopped at the nearest trash can –and let it go.

I had found my own translation and solved the koan of “CUT-oh”.

It's called WEBcasting

2006-03-02T19:12:00.000-05:00

My first initiation (there's something redundant about that expression) into the world of making movies for the Internet dealt with the concept of “product placement”. It would be a “Sex in the City” type of series wherein a couple of women search for the “perfect man”. Hence the name of the series: “IN MEN WE TRUST”. When completed, people watching the show on the web could click on the actors’ clothes and get immediate information about it’s brand name and where it could be purchased -in addition to which, they could also have selections on how the story ends. Very innovative… but unproven.

The shoot was in the Park Slope section of Brooklyn, on the corner of 8th Avenue and 16th Street –a church (why don’t they shoot more movies in synagogues, or mosques, or Buddhist shrines…?). We were given a morning call to get there an hour even earlier than the original call time… the old hurry up and wait routine again –I knew better. Parking was brutal in Brooklyn so I had to cruise around for 40 minutes before I found a spot –thereby arriving at my original call time.

Our extras holding area was downstairs in a chilly, albeit finished basement where we bantered about movies, politics, paint-ball adventures, celebrity-gossip, martial arts, cabbie stories, and constantly grabbed snacks off the Kraft-table. After stuffing my face with jelly-beans, m&m’s, pretzels and power bars… we were pleasantly surprised by Kelsey, the casting PA, who suddenly announced that we were getting “lunch money”… and that we could go out for 45 minutes to eat lunch. Great… except that it was only 11 in the morning and most of us weren’t very hungry after all the munching. Later I’d go out and scout the neighborhood for something other than a slice of pizza or a hero sandwich. I found Lailah, a Greek-run middle-eastern restaurant that also provided for take-out food. Perfect! I blew my lunch money right then and there on a "combination plate".

Four hours had passed without any activity for most of us. No wonder they called it “holding”. Then a walkie-talkie call blared off of Kelsey's lapel to send two actors "upstairs" for background. Upstairs was a room decked out as a horticultural display. Tatiana Pavlova was the director in the center of a bunch of lights and various assistants. She appeared to be a dark-haired discerning young woman with a calm, Russian accent. Her directions were gentle but specific. The scene showed two geeky males and two ditzy women sitting around a table and having a “double entendre” conversation about the plants:

“Gooseberries… they love to reproduce!” (hyuk, hyuk)

My role was that of a horticulturist, inspecting a plant in the background. Another horticulturist would come over and we’d compare our “stalks”. Cheeeesy!
The whole thing took only a couple of minutes, and then it was back down into the basement… for another couple of hours of male-bonding (the women were smart and steered clear of us) until we were released.

Pay: $40.
Lunch: $8.50
Getting the heck out of there: priceless

I took the Belt Parkway in order to get to the location this morning, but now I decided to return home by way of the longer BQE, even though it was going to be during the busy rush-hour trek back to my house. And although it took me two hours to get home, I considered it a “peace-of-cake” after the “wait-training” production I’d just come away from. They wanted me to return and do it again Sunday in lower Manhattan for the late hours of 3:PM to 4:AM in the morning!

I think I’ll have to sleep... or coma... on that decision.

Oh the HORROR

2006-03-02T17:49:00.000-05:00

A chopped off arm here… some bloody make-up there… a chained up guy in the basement… and you’ve got the right ingredients for yet another banal horror movie.

So it was with the Adelphi student thesis film production (ERIE ROAD) in Queens –as good a place as any for me to depict the patriarch of a cannibalistic family. My funkiest line: "Show us what you're made of son... I can taste him already! (accentuated by evil laughter)". Other gems were aimed at an unexpected young visitor: "Can we have YOU for dinner?"

Fortunately, lunch was nothing less than 10 boxes of pizza. Which reminded me of my first horror movie a few years ago (2003) with the director Jeff Lieberman. Jeff had done underground horror cult movies like SQUIRM and BLUE SUNSHINE in the 70’s and then kind of faded away until someone from Microsoft apparently funded him for SATAN'S LITTLE HELPER (possibly in hopes of producing a profitable spin-off video game). I spent 3 midnights in Westchester wearing a ghoulish outfit while dancing to the tune of "Play That Funky Music Whiteboy".

There were a lot of extras with some outrageous makeup and we passed the time chit-chatting while mountains of pizza boxes were being delivered as our breakfast, lunch and dinner meals. The principals, Amanda Plummer, Jeff, et al were eating catered pasta and chicken (I still dislike that class division crap). But I snuk around to the place where the good food was and helped myself when no one was there -then all of a sudden, I came face to face with Jeff Lieberman himself. I extended my hand to greet him but he was already munching on some greasy chicken and couldn't find a napkin to wipe up for the customary salutation... so we segued out of the "Seinfeld moment" by attempting some light conversation about another horror movie director I once knew.

"Do you know Sam Sherman? He does Dracula-type of horror movies..."
"No."

"Ummm, would you mind if I took your picture?"
"Amm..."

CLICK!!!

A short-lived private exchange that exuded the epitome of awkward moments. There really wasn't much to talk about. It was more fun being with the other extras, clowning around and exchanging war stories. One heavy-set guy claimed to be psychic and proclaimed that this Westchester mansion was "definitely haunted". He may have had a point. While strolling around the mansion, I took some pictures outside and later realized that I had "captured" the image of a "light orb". These apparations are supposed to be pre-ghost energy sources... or some inexplicable type of camera lens refraction. Neither explanation has been proven -so far.

Fortunately, nothing scarry happened throughout the shoot. Not fortunate enough however, for Lieberman, for whom the only venue for the film was to be at Tribeca and the Horror Film Festival... after which SLH seemed to have gone the way of his other movies: cult oblivion. Apparently there was no mass distribution. Guess I'll wait for the DVD version... Is Satan cold yet?

3 Shows with 3 friends

2006-02-21T19:34:00.000-05:00

Went to see Ladysmith Black Mambazo, Savion Glover and The Harlem Globetrotters this month. My wife and I saw them with 3 separate friends with whom we experienced three somnambulistic reactions. LBM at the Tilles Center started out great with their deep-toned syncopation -and then slowly, as the night progressed, managed to put us into a trance state. We, and the rest of the audience, were waiting for some of the Paul Simon collaborations but only one was sung -and all the other tunes were great only if you happened to want to meditate. Our friend Barbara fell asleep and hallucinated. Our African experience at the off-Broadway show, Drumstruck, was the exact opposite. Everyone in the audience got a drum and no one, but I mean NO ONE, got a chance to so much as blink. The activity was frenetic and energetic.

Savion Glover at the B. B. King Blues Club was inexhaustible. His tap-dancing banter with the jazz band on the stage was a remarkable feat (no pun intended) of musical communication. But even here, after a while (close to two hours), we started to feel the repetition of the rhythmic steps and began to wish that there were other elements to the show . The more I watched Savion, the more I compared him to Gregory Heinz... and the more I realized that his steps were "heavier" than Gregory's. Gregory's moves were so much "lighter" and effortless. Savion's steps were loud and "stomped out", pressed hard into the stage floor. Andrea, our friend, became bored. The customary applause was provided and we quietly left the place with the other 200 "tourists" and emptied out onto the welcome chill of 42nd Street. En route to the train, I stopped off at one of the other theaters and what appeared to be "mysterious behaviour" on my part to our friend Andrea and my wife, soon became a remarkable exhibition of faith. I had lost my hat in here, about 8 months ago, and decided to take a chance that it might have been found and remarkably stored for my eventual arrival. AND, it was! Now THAT was exciting.

My wife got 4 free tickets to see The Harlem Globetrotters at Nassau Colleseum -so we asked Arnie and Harriet to come with us to the extravaganza. These guys were good... even though all the basketball clowning was staged... the acrobatics were GREAT! Many cute interactions with the kids from the audience as well as one funny "kiss and tell" adult-moment. We particularly enjoyed the Hot Boys' acrobatic trampoline basket-stuffings. These three guys were unbeliveable in their precise coordination during the half-time show. Globie, the clown was filling in the gaps between periods as "it" pranced around the court for laughs. Yet here too, our friend, Arnie, was "sawing Zzzzzz's"!?! Oh well, maybe the spicy pizza after the show will get him going -one way or another.

... did someone say Winter doldrums?

FASHION SHOW at Bryant Park

2006-02-09T20:20:00.000-05:00

SMILE! And she did -avec plaisir...

The invitation-only-tents went up as soon as the freebie-skating-rink was disassembled -and all this week, the center of NYC, Bryant Park, would concern itself with introducing the FALL fashions of 2006 (even though it was still early February). Since my Thursdays are involved with going through this area, I decided to do my paparazzo thing and click some pix of whomever I deemed to be "interesting".

Although my mother was a dressmaker / designer, I never got too involved, but tagged along with her as a kid and got to know a little about the glitzy industry. Descriptions of "EMPIRE" and "A-LINE" dresses with "satin and organza" still echo colorfully through my gray matter. Unfortunately, I'm quite ignorant about constructing clothes or recognizing faces of the fashion-world's who's who -other than the big names of Lagerfeld, Klein, Wang and Mizrahi. On numerous occasions I've walked across Fashion Avenue's embedded brass discs with commemorative engravings to the likes of the classic greats -and so I know their names (Rudi Gernreich, Coco Chanel, Donna Karan, Betsey Johnson, et al) but could never recognize them by face. Nonetheless, whenever I see a fashion show, I think of my mother and it brings pleasant childhood memories of her entourage of customers being fitted for evening gowns in their underwear (and sometimes without their underwear)!

I've only done modeling once... so far. It was for a NYU Tisch Photography theme: JADED BUSINESSMAN. The photog's idea had something to do with a young minotaur being very active in a sleezy bar, while I sat "bored and barely involved" in the center with a bearded aquaintance of mine as we nursed our drinks. It was interesting to see the photog-crew "jell the lights" with all sorts of magenta-type colors. I also got some beautiful photo copies out of it... and an entry into my resume.

And back in 1990, while tracking through the booksigning routes of celebs, Annie Leibovitz was promoting her 1970-1990 collection -which I promptly bought (love her stuff). And while standing on line for her to autograph it, I asked her to snap a picture of me with my handy-dandy-off-the-shelf-instamatic-camera. And SHE DID! She was a really good sport about it, saying, "Yeah -sure...gimme that camera... where's the shutter release...?!". I loved it. A real collector's item.

Not exactly runway work...

Harrison Ford and his FIREWALL

2006-02-08T00:02:00.000-05:00

The Learning Annex provides monthly opportunities to approach the proximity of the famous and the near-famous (as Mel Brooks would say in the role of the 2000 year old man). One such occasion was tonight's NYC premiere (sort of) for Harrison Ford's new movie, FIREWALL. I paid my twenty bucks a few weeks ago to enter the halls of the 42nd Street AMC movie theater for the opportunity to witness this event, albeit shivering outside for 30 minutes in the newly arrived February chill. Finally, the ushers let us in and hastily took our computer-print-out ticket-sheets only to replace them with a "flag-decorated wristband". My usher's aim with connecting the sticky ends was off and I wound up with an unwanted "hair-removal treatment" from my wrist. Definitely not very good security... anyone could have made a copy of my printout and hustle through the lax check-in procedures. We were immediately directed to the 3rd floor where a "security guard" checked our persons for any "metal". From my point of view, the metal-detecting wand wasn't even powered on -there was no glow at the tip. Then it was onward, into theater no.6 and seating for all .. I got 3rd row. OMG... these were not stadium seats! I'd have to crane to see the movie screen and move my head from side-to-side in order to take in the action on the huge panavision screen. The waiting-for-the-movie-to-start ordeal was made pleasant by the 40-ish woman on my right, who, as it turned out, was readily conversational. She told me that she liked the entertainment but hated the city. She was getting ready to move to either Utah, Colorado or Nevada. She wanted to see mountains and trees, rather than concrete and asphalt... and whatever personal baggage that was causing her to leave NYC. Definitely a woman in flux!

The movie started; it was a techno-thriller and kept everyone interested to the end. Harrison Ford did what he does best: look vulnerable and get the crap beat out of him! Then the lights came on and Joel Siegel came in. He bantered back and forth with the audience and a few minutes later, the moment we all paid for had arrived: Harrison Ford (Indiana Jones, Han Solo...etc.) entered with a few "handlers" (read: bodyguards) and received a standing ovation. The format was that Joel would interview/prompt Harrison to tell us "stuff". But Harrison is not exactly an exciting speaker, he's very mellow and laid-back and talks slow with deliberation, so Joel had to keep the commentary popping while Harrison was popping pop-corn into his mouth. He was sporting a beard and explained that it was for his upcoming part in a Civil War-era movie wherein he plays the man who tracked down and caught John Wilkes Booth, the person who shot Abraham Lincoln. He talked about not being the first person to be selected for Indiana Jones (Tom Selik was, but had a contractual obligation that couldn't free him for the part). He mentioned how lousy he felt from the "local food" the day that the "Black Swordsman" scene was shot in the first Indiana Jones movie. It seems that he wanted to leave early to recuperate from the runs so he suggested to Steven Spielberg that Indiana should just shoot the giant with the fancy swordwork, thereby completing the shoot early -Steven replied that he was "just thinking the same thing..." and the poor "giant swordsman", who had been practicing his swordplay for weeks just for this scene (which was supposed to be a long one: sword against whip fight) had to "die" with one lazy draw of a gunshot from Indiana Jones!

I noticed that there was a lot of very carefull tip-toeing around the mention of "arabs" during his descriptions. When he spoke about his experiences in Petra, he made sure to mention the "fine arab hospitality... from Queen Noor". And when he had to speak about Marion's (Karen Allen's role) kidnapping, Harrison gingerly described it as the "actors who were...(searching for the right PC expression) dressed up in arab clothes"... as though he was afraid that some kind of "fatwa" was going to befall him if he actually said "arab" without some kind of a "complementary" follow up or dared to put them in a negative light. To me, this "politically correct" baloney attitude that seems to prevail throughout most of Hollywood, is nothing more than a compromise of free speech. It's the very thing that the movie, "Good Night and Good Luck" tries to make clear. It's so ironic that Hollywood makes a very important moralistic movie about the 50's McCarthyism, like GNGL -and yet remains trapped in it's own muck of modern-day PC. Eventually it will pervade their creativity and make them into a cookie-cutter movie-factory producing the "same old, same old". Too bad. I've always thought that actors were much more ballsy.

Otherwise, I liked what Harrison had to say. He liked acting, "It's the only thing that still keeps me engaged..." . One can't help but think if Calista Flockhart has anything to do with that "engagement stuff". His greatest lament was the "loss of anonimity"... "The trouble is that I 'look like' Harrison Ford!". It's true -one would easily recognize him anywhere. He also mentioned that he is planing to "transition" into "secondary roles". This drew a lot of "disappointment sounds" from the audience. But it seems that he's acknowledging the fact that his age, and perhaps his acting abilities, are fading him into the background. He did cheer us up by saying that "...there is another Indiana Jones movie in the works with Steven". Only the paperwork needs to be worked out!? One can only hope (given his propensity for the runs).

It was time -and the conversation between him and Siegel came to an end. We were hoping there would be a Q & A between Harrison and us... but alas (and "a lack"), that was not to be. He left the applauding audience with his "handlers" and we left the theater feeling as though we were... still behind a firewall.

Poooof! I'm an MTV STUNT DRIVER

2006-02-05T22:28:00.005-05:00

I got a bit lost again on my way to the West Broadway randez vous with the music video crew. Walked upstairs to the director's apartment... they were just starting to get "organized" (read: come to) and the whole place was full of cigarette smoke. Apparently, they didn't get to crash until 4 in the morning! I told the director, Will, that I would go and get breakfast while they got their stuff together. He was glad I made the gesture, took an envelope, wrote my name on it, gave it to me and mentioned that I should collect and give him all of my receipts for reimbursement. Sounded pretty fair to me. So I left and went down the block to the original audition cafe, The Cupping Room. This time I would be a paying patron and not just someone passing through. Had my cup of tea and pastry, read my paper, checked out the other patrons... and basically killed 45 minutes at a leisurely pace. Very mellow. Headed back to their building, and as I started to open the apartment house door, Will and Justin, another member of the crew was just coming out. His van was parked in front and as he inspected the window there was complete and utter amazement at the fact that he did not get a ticket for his overnight parking fete in a restricted zone. He let me sit in the van and I offered to watch it for him while the rest of the crew went back and forth for packing their equipment. As they trickled down with various sizes of camera boxes, I got to meet them one-by-one. Each seemed to have a different accent. Interesting...in an exotic sort of way. Everyone crammed in -but this time I avoided the contortionist routine by sitting in the front seat early. After cursing about not having any cigarettes, Will stormed out of the van and upon return, tore-ass out across the Williamsburg Bridge enroute to our DUMBO location. Unfortunately, he got lost and we pulled over to a drunk dressed in fatigues to ask for directions... Whoa! The guy leaned into my window with a breath that could have turned into a flame-thrower had anyone lit their cigarettes... he could barely muster a few incoherent blabberings of "turn at the corner and then turn back and...[a long "where's-my-brain" pause]...and then turnaround" -complete silence for another minute as we all anticipated him to just plop on the ground while his alpha-rhythms baselined. Oh well, guess we'll just follow that sign over there that says "Brooklyn Bridge". That worked out swimmingly well and we found our way to the spectacular site. We were literally under the Brooklyn Bridge with a terrific view of downtown NYC in the background. Excellent location scouting! It was cold near the East River waters and we all found ourselves bundling up or shivering, like the leading man, Jerome, was doing. Jerome was a French dude, and strangely enough, resembled a young Billy Baldwin (or maybe I just had Billy Baldwin on my brain from the day before). I believe most of the crew was French and after demonstrating my poor high school foreign language capabilities, they had no problems with speaking French in front of me. They figured I didn't understand a word of it! This attitude turned out to be somewhat overconfident on their part later on. The plan was for me to drive down the cobblestoned street while Jerome cuts me off riding his bike -and I stop short while cursing the hell out of him. Hence, the "ANGRY DRIVER" role. All this was to be set to music later on by a somewhat wellknown band for whom this video-story was being created in hopes of publicising their newest album. Lucky for Jerome that I was a NYC taxi cab driver during my college years... the sublime perfection of which, has never left me. The camera would be attached at numerous precarious locations on the vehicle each time the French DP wanted to get a different angle of my cursing cruise down the deserted street. It was fun but dangerous. One of the camera guys sitting next to me bumped his head on the camera as I was directed to stop short. He told me that worse things have happened to him: Once he fell out of a tree with a camera!!! I suppose only an "injured" guy would continue to do this kind of crazy work. After a dozzen or so takes, the DP and the director were satisfied with the accumulated results and I was told that "We're done!". I gave Will my envelope with the receipts and asked for the reimbursement. A short conversation in French took place between him and the DP. I understood enough to realize that Will was willing to pay me $20 but the DP had convinced him not to pay me just now... that "Eet would be better like zis!" I realized that although Will was the director, apparently he wasn't the man in charge... the French DP had the Svengali influence. Will took me aside and said that he would send me the money later when he got my name and address squared away. Since I was having so much fun on the set, I kind of took it in stride and allowed it to pass. After all, they haven't given me a "release agreement" to sign yet. Apparently they forgot -and that would be my "ace in the hole" later on! They arranged for me to get a ride back to Manhattan from Olivia, the friendly PA who ran their errands. Her constant cell-phone conversations and blackberry scrollings in the middle of NYC's rainy streets made the SUV ride a bit harrowing -especially when she almost ran through a red light and into oncoming traffic! I played my "angry driver" role well for the video, now I wondered if I would become an "angry passanger" before we reached Penn Station. Naaaaaaah... I was too sleepy.

Epilogue: They never did pay me. But a year later I ran into Jerome (the bicycle rider) near MSG and he mentioned YouTube as a possible source for seeing a clip of the short.

Adrift in Manhattan with a bearded Billy Baldwin and a pretty Heather Graham

2006-02-05T11:02:00.003-05:00

"ONE/NINE" -that was just the "working title". Originally it was supposed to be the symbol of the subway line that ran the number 1 and the number 9 trains. But since 9/11, the number 9 has been eliminated. Lots of memories for me here since I was riding on those trains the day the World Trade Center was destroyed by arab terrorists. Had I arrived a few minutes earlier at my then-workplace in the World Financial Center, I could have been doused by burning jet fuel or various types of debris or... jumpers. My old stop was Cortland Street and each morning I walked through the WTC, out through Tobin Plaza and over the North Bridge to the palm-treed atrium of the WFC... (snap out of it man -that was then; this is NOW!)

Anyway, who knows what the final title of this full-length independent production will be? The interesting part was getting to see some big-name actors, and exchanging stories with some interesting extras. I arrived early at the location on West 67th Street, asked for "Zeke" and was told to go to the 3rd floor holding-area. Huffing up the steps, I was told to go to the 1st floor holding-area... once there, I was told to go to the lobby holding-area -Zeke was still not identified.
The holding-area was a conference room that had a small piece cordoned off for the safe sequestering of the two principal stars. I took off my coat and sat down in front of the "demilitarized zone". Soon others began to arrive and settle in, one tall bearded person was approaching the "safety zone" and I recognized him immediately as Billy Baldwin -instinctively I said "Hi", which was returned in a friendly, albeit non-plussed manner. Whoops... I realized that I had just violated the "non-intervention rule" -extras are not supposed to speak to the principals unless they speak to you first. Luckily, my friend Tom (from the earlier Guys and Dolls gig) just showed up and we began to converse like old friends. Hence, the feint of my non-chalant segue would prevent any undue attention to my innocuos "brash behavior" of my previous moment's "Billy-encounter". Oh the suppressed angst that we extras have to incur!

I was chosen to be a lonely popcorn-eating matron in a "movie theater" scene. Lots of activity from the DP, John, and the spanish-accented director, Alfredo De Villa. The other extras were strategically seated and a couple of arguments between John and Alfredo broke out about "losing the location for the afternoon" and "lighting problems" and f#@%! this and f#@%! that... I just sat there as Selena, a production assistant whom I knew from previous shoots, brought me a leaking cup of soda as part of my props. It was soon replaced but my pants were rather damp! Then all of a sudden, "Team Two", a couple who sat a few rows in front of me would now be replaced by "Team-One".

Billy Baldwin and Heather Graham walked in and took the place of the original seat-fillers. I was pleasantly surprised by Heather's pretty looks and slim build. They quickly sat down... had their faces powdered and light measurements taken. Was the drama about to start? Not really.
All we had to do was to make believe that we were watching some old-time movie while the two stars were acting "uninterested" in each other. Apparently this was not working out as the director planned because he kept coming over to Billy and Heather and whispered something "private" to each one separately!? Strange. But I suppose he gave them their "motivation" for showing "disinterest"! As the camera-on-tracks panned across the audience, my face was four rows behind and right in-between the two majors. If the editing doesn't cut this scene out, and the producers get sufficient backing for distribution of the finished film -I just might be seen!

(Epilogue: The scene was left in... I'm the blur in the middle between Billy Baldwin and Heather Graham. But interestingly enough, they zoomed in on me since I was at the same visual level as Heather's young stalker nearby.)
The next setting was to be in a school a few blocks away. The crew packed up everything in a very short time along with the extras and literally packed us, like sardines, into an awaiting van. In order to fit into my seat, I had to crunch myself up so that my knee was up by my chin. As I looked out the window, Heather Graham was being escorted to her own transportation. My neck couldn't crane far enough to see what that was, but I bet she didn't have to have to contort herself to fit in (although if she had to, she probably could... her being a practicioner of yoga).

The holding area in the school was the lunchroom. We would be waiting there for a few hours while the crew set up their movie gear on the fourth floor. In the process of sharing lunch tables, more friendships were forged and numerous tales told. One woman was from Tobago/Trinidad and she provided some fascinating anecdotes about her link to this island and that of Africa. Another woman was a storywriter and producer in her own right who recently put on a successful off-Broadway play. A white-haired middle-aged man recounted his success story with beating stomach cancer and provided inspiration for us with his enthusiastic attitude about how he "looked at life completely differently now... since the operation". His big dream was to be in the Sopranos, so I provided him with the appropriate email for submitting: sopranosextras@gmail.com.

At 5:PM "lunch" arrived. Apparently I got on the wrong food-line because I was politely told that the extras are not allowed to eat from the multi-choice-meal area. Instead, I was directed to the table with fourteen boxes of multi-choice pizzas! This 2nd-class segregation is the only thing that bothers me in this industry. But then again, the crew and the principal actors do work much harder than the extras -and so, I suppose I can justify it in my mind that they do deserve the 1st-class treatment.

(Epilogue: This scene is toward the end -and I'm right up there with Heather.)

The second scene of the day brought me closer to the action. It took place in a classroom where we acted like proud parents of our poetry-reading teenage kids. We needed to clap for a minute or so! During our clapping, Heather's role would come into the room and observe while Billy's role, as the teacher, would show approval of the poetry readers -all the while making some eye-contact with each other's character. This scene took about two hours to complete, but the two stars would be going closely past us on a regular basis after each take. Both were rather quiet at each passings-by. For some reason, during breaks, Billy would go into one of the other classrooms and constantly be on his cell phone -if he were smart, he'd be lining up the next gig (but I suspect that he was checking in with his wife, Chyna Phillips). It's a win-win either way!

We wrapped after 11:PM, signed our wavers and collected our $50-bill. Most of us were only told that the story revolved around three separate love stories which somehow intertwined as the movie came to a close. Personally, I didn't see any chemistry between the two majors and the story sounded wishy-washy. But then, I wasn't privy to the "big-picture". If it ever came out, I knew I would still want to see it... and of course tell all my friends about it. Got home after 1:00 AM. My MTV weekend-gig would prompt me to rise at 6:AM. Yaaaaaaawn.

Epilogue: The movie was screened at Sundance in 2007 under the title: Adrift in Manhattan. It's not in any of the mainstream movie theaters as of this writing (8/2007), so my best guess is that it will be an indi release.

SoHo - so what?

2006-02-04T01:09:00.001-05:00

A cast call at the Cupping Room Café on SoHo's West Broadway provided the perfect follow up to my last night's "adventures with tea-reading in libraryland". I was "white-rabbit late" for the audition because I confusingly went to the "correct" address on on the "incorrect" Broadway… but the director, Will , didn't mind. He recognized me from my headshot as I walked up to him and he introduced me to his assistant. Stephanie. She shook hands with me and I shook it right back (I'm not one to miss out on the "tangible benefits" of western civilization).

The director plied me with compliments in his somekind-of-an-English/French accent, about me having the perfect looks for the part of the "ANGRY DRIVER"… and then Stephanie suddenly piped up, "Can you just muss-up your hair and can you just muss-up your eyebrows… yeah like that… real fuzzy!".
"Perfect!" says the director. Then he showed me the MTV-type of script and described my part as being that of a driver who almost runs down a bicycler in Brooklyn's DUMBO district… and when the cyclist skittles out of the way, I should get out of the car and shout angry explitives… and "Can you be available for the next four days?". Sure… I said. But why do I need to be available for " 4 DAYS" when my part is so short? Oh no no no… misunderstanding… I'll only be needed for ONE DAY… and after a small conference with the DP, even the day was nailed down! "And only during daylight."

Good by me. One more thing… can he reimburse me for the train trip? Well we're all working without pay here… but yes reimbursement and "meals" will be provided. EXCELLENT (I'm starting to bargain... knowing fully well that it's all baloney)! The DP then took me over to the wall and took some photos of my "angry" puss. Then the director bade me good bye… and that he's "99% certain" that I would get the part… but just to make certain -I would be contacted by the DP later today (the baloney slices were getting thin).

A day later the call DID come.
I got the part!

Another interesting adventure resulted from my latest excursion in this neighborhood. While walking through SoHo, I found a "yellow notice" posted on a tree, saying that filming was going on for "PERFECT STRANGER" -and the contact number was: 212-563-7053. Upon the follow up, I found out that Sylvia Fay(e) was the casting director. Unfortunately, her website, InstantCast.com was charging money to join. Yet another lead gone awry. Or perhaps, this is the trip that the tea-leaf-reader was talking about last night… not working out! But NO! I shared this info with Tom, my new best actor friend from the Guys and Dolls gig -who also wasn't able to get a fix on Sylvia Fay but recommended that I get in touch with the Scott Powers casting agency. They had somekind of a movie job available. I quickly acted on Tom's tip and emailed my stuff to them. A few hours later I was called back and given a $50-gig that was being shot the following day at 35 West 67th Street, entitled "1/9" with Billy Baldwin and Heather Graham! Life is good.

A performance artist with tea leaves

2006-02-02T01:02:00.000-05:00

`But I don't want to go among mad people,' Alice remarked.
`Oh, you can't help that,' said the Cat: `we're all mad here. I'm mad. You're mad.'
`How do you know I'm mad?' said Alice.
`You must be,' said the Cat, `or you wouldn't have come here.'

<>

Went to my local library to see a demonstration about serving tea. An elderly English woman was giving a spot of history about its origins. It seems that many thousands of years ago, a Chinese emperor realized that boiling water reduced sicknesses and so he would frequently command that his drinking water be scalded. One day... lo and behold... some of the leaves from the branches that were stoking the fire, had flown into the boiling pot and... VOI LA... the leaves gave up their flavoring contents to the hot water, which the Chinese emperor found to be pleasant upon tasting. Henceforth, there would be tea!

This ceremony was now being performed by the elderly matron-of-tasseography who also entertained us with numerous anecdotes from different cultures relating to the various rituals surrounding the drinking of tea. One of these rituals was her avocation, that being the "reading of tea leaves". Of course, after completing our repast with the loose tea, we lined up and had each of our fortunes told. It always amuses me to observe the curiosities of people to want to know "how things will turn out"... when in fact, things turn out the same -whether you know about them beforehand, or not. I must confess here that I am an ardent fan of Ouspenski and his writings about the inevitable fortunes of his imago, Ivan Osikin. But I digress...

I heard the wise tea-woman speak to my friend about her latest and upcoming fortunes -and I observed that she was right on with her assessment of symbols formed on the sides of the teacup. So I stuck my thrice-swished and turned-up-side-down tealeaves in my cup over to the fortune telling tea lady for a personal scrutiny of my so-called destiny. First off, she asked me if I had been playing an instrument lately (which I had) -and she told me to "stick with it" because it would bring big success (I'd better polish up my triangle). Then she asked if I ski. When I demured, she switched to "someone close to me" who skiis or snowboards -and that they should be careful... (Guess I'd better use more super glue on my pet's paws.) Also, a long trip that I was planning would not work out because of lack of funds at this time (oh well, I guess I'll put off my trip to Antarctica... for now). But the last item was the best. According to her, I enjoy giving love and I will get back a lot of it! Now that's what I call good fortune... and a wonderful performance!!!

We gulped down the rest of our teas and finished our "sweeties"... and left the hall of knowledge for the safety of our respective ignorances. Ahhhhhhh... BLISS.

Did you say Guys and Dolls?

2006-01-29T13:41:00.000-05:00

Well... sort of. It was actually a movie-trailer with the working title of "SMALL TIMERS" that was being made by the director, Ken Waddell, and I was cast as one of the gamblers in some key scenes. When we arrived, there was a LOT of green screens and green floors all over the place. This however, was not in recognition of Greenpoint, Brooklyn where the studio was located, but rather in preparation for computer graphic details that were going to be filled into 99% of the background upon completion of the film... or video tape... or whatever the high-definition media that was in vogue at the moment. There wasn't even a clapboard being used anymore since both the sound and the visual tracks would be electronically embedded (in synchronous mode) within the HD "stuff". Wow... I'm so glad to be able to blend in and understand geek-talk.

First off, we had to get fitted in the costume department, where Anika and Angela picked out our 1940-ish period clothes. They had the right sized jacket but my trousers would have to be... ahem...enlarged. I was way out of their 36-inch range! And since they really weren't equipped to "rip-and-sew", I had to improvise by "sucking it up", which needless to say, created a very substantial problem for me: BREATHING! So I decided to compromise by sucking it in during the actual movie shoots and later keeping my pants' zippper half-way down during the long breaks. This made me somewhat self-conscious since there were little kids running around on the set and I didn't want to get tagged with an "expose". My zoot-suit jacket would cover the "faux-pas" but I was constantly checking my fly to make sure the zipper was locked in! As the fitting progressed, it was apparent that my black tee-shirt would not do and I had to put on a newly-opened white tank-top-T; brown wing-tip shoes and a droopy bow-tie (which Anika tied perfectly -for the second time in her life). Then came "the hat"! It was severely crumpled and the brim wouldn't stay sharp. Instead, it kept curling up (like Ed Norton's plumber-hat in The Honeymooners). Anika told me to "work it" during the course of waiting around -and it would eventulally conform to the necessary "wiseguy" shape.

With fitting now completed, we had to go over to makeup. It's always a strange feeling to have a pretty girl gently and professionally apply cosmetics to your face so that you can look "tough" by accentuating your every wrinkle and topping it off by scrawling deep-dark-lines around your eye sockets - only to finish it off by powdering your nose to reduce the "shine". The reduced-shine-proceedure would be repeated a few times throughout the shoot per the director's orders -depending on how often he spotted you on the camera's monitor. Perfection... is not an accident!

Now that we were all prepped, it was time to wait around while the set was being built, repaired, modified and repaired again. And it is during this period that you get to know your fellow actors and stagehands. A lot of chatting takes place and names and numbers are exchanged for networking purposes. After all, you never know when one of them may refer you to a good gig. While chatting, I noticed that one of the actors looked very much like Leonard Nimoy, or Martin Landau, or John Cassavetes -and when I told him so, he was elated. In fact, he had been on one of the Star Trek movie sets (Nemesis) playing an alien on the ship's deck. How "kewl" is that?

I also chatted with the child-actors and one of their parents. They were all SAG and one of the mothers told me that they had an agent who got them regular jobs above the $500 mark. Hmmm... getting real pay.... I'd like that. However, you had to join the union and pay a hefty sum. Hmmm... I'm not into hefty sums of payment just yet.

Child actors are great. They are sooooooooo precocious and easy to talk to. I'm always amazed at their ability to learn lines at a moment's notice and speak them perfectly on cue -EVERY TIME! To me, that is a natural talent that we grownups will always be amazed at. A show in itself. The mother also explained that her young son liked it better in this open studio environment where everyone gets to talk to everyone else, rather than being cooped up in a trailer. The boy was in a recent movie shoot, "The Good Shephard" with Matt Damon and Angelina Jolie where he had to spend most of his time in a trailer -bored to death. I guess it's not always so great to get the "star treatment". It seems to isolate you from the real people and prevents an actor from regaining their natural humility -an essential baseline for character development.

During the final sceene we were sitting at the "speak-easy" tables yaking away with our "dates" -all of whom were pretty women dolled up to be even prettier. For me there's an occasional sense of "unresolved regret" whenever I carry on a friendly conversation that you know will be terminated by the director's loud shout of "CUT!". It's as though I've lost a chance at making a new friend. Then again, that's my own fault -isn't it?

When the shoot is over, there is a sense of a rush to get back into our "own custumes", shake hands with each other and the director... and stand in line to get our pay! This is the usual routine for extras.
Feature actors (those with lines to say), however, have to fill out an invoice and wait for the check in the mail. But then again, they get paid twice as much. Hmmmmm... maybe it's time to get myself an agent?!

A Paparazzo instead of The Sopprano???

2006-01-26T19:13:00.000-05:00

So I went to this audition for a cop role, got the part, and was told to be ready on the 26th. Then my cell phone rings, and I'm informed that it's been moved up to the 24th -OK. So far so good. I'm pretty flexible when I'm unemployed. The call time was established as "noon"... then I get some more cell phone calls telling me that it will be at 2:PM... then some more calls moving it back to 2:15... 2:45... and finally, "just show up in the lobby at 3:PM and we'll meet you!"

A day before the shoot date, I get a call from Grant Wilfley Casting, asking me to be a background character on The Soppranos on the same date as my Discovery Channel gig... CONFLICT!!! What do I do? What do I do?
I turned down the Sopparanos call because I already committed to the Discovery episode. My conscience is clear -but somehow I know I goofed. How many times does an actor get a shot (no pun intended) at being on The Soppranos? It's probably their last season!!! Oh well, I told Grant Wilfley the reason and asked them to call me, "I'm available next week...". She said she'd "Call again...". I can feel the boys waiting for me... YEAH!

I show up in the lobby of City Lights, the production company for the Discovery Channel and wait a while... no one is coming. I'm directed by the helpfull doorman to ask one of the people standing nearby about the crew I'm supposed to meet. He says that I should ride up the elevator with him and he'll check into it... "After all, I'm the president of the company -I should know about this!?". The elevator went down? Wrong button pressed.... but we were chatting away as we eventually headed in the right direction.

"Are you really a cop?" , the president asked.
"Nah.. I'm an engineer." -my reply elicited a giggle from my new-best-friend in the building. The unsaid ironical truth that lingered in the air was that I was a "working actor but an unemployed engineer". A not so subtle sign of our disturbed politico-economic times. The question begging to be answered was: How long before they outsource actors too? After all, computer generated characters are getting to be "more real than real"!

As we got out of the elevator, the entire crew was standing by. He handed me off to them and after a few cross-handshaking introductions from every angle of the reception area, they explained that the plot had changed!? ...OH, OH!
I was no longer going to be a cop. My new role was to be one of a couple of paparazzi besieging a pretty celebrity as she is trying to escape from a cab!?! (And I was so looking forward to playing a policeman -they even took my measurements for the uniform a few days ago... "a boyhood dream come true"... Alas, it was not to be.)

Off to Central Park we went in a celebrity cab ride of our own with the shooting crew in tow. Eventually everyone arrived and the equipment was set up. We, the "talent", practiced our "lines" and our chaotic camera-flashing-attack on the "targeted celeb". During the course of our stint, I overheard one of the PA's say how unfortunate it was that one of the expected actors blew this gig off -and apparently, that's what started the whole change in the scenario. Groan! Our shoot lasted less than 2 hours and when it was all over, we all shook hands again and went our merry ways.

I can't believe I didn't blow this gig off and take on The Soppranos opportunity instead.... I can't believe it... (hair falling... more hair falling).

CEO head/hair-shot

2006-01-18T10:22:00.000-05:00

Up the elevator of New York Spaces, an 8th Avenue building venture, where studios are rented to prospect for talents, I rose to the occasion of yet another audition. It was a clean and modern, yet cozy professional atmosphere -a direct opposite of the usual fare of dillapidated walk-ups with creaky stairs and dingy hallways. Inside the Ripley/Grier Studios, room 16A, there was a casting for an interesting (read: paying) gig. If you fit the part, you get to go to Nashville, TN and impersonate a big-wig CEO for a day or so. The others waiting outside to be called in, per sign-in-sheet, were of all sizes and shapes, even though the castcall specified 220 pounds and a 6'1" stature. What the heck... I sat down on the cleverly placed park bench next to the cleverly placed sitting stool and waited for my name to be called. There was music wafting from the adjacent studios and in the reflection of some display glass hanging on the wall, I could see a couple of dancers practicing their "Chorus Line" counts of " a-1-2-3-4-...a-5-6-7-8-aaaaand...hitch...aaaand step....aaaand... a-pop..." My reverie was interrupted by a green-skirted young lady passing closely by and turning the corner to perhaps yet another dramatic scenario in the confines of the individual performance cells. Luckily, she sachayed by our bench a number of times during the course of our anticipated loiterings -thereby making our wait rather bearable.

Suddenly, the director's mating call sounded, "NEXT!"... I went in for the adventure of it... after all, how far off could I be, given the variety of my fellow competitors? It was a standard session. A few black-clad PA/DP types, a video camera, a charming female director. Then the usual headshot request, digital/polaroid shot, stand on the line, slate your name, agency, phone number, turn right, read for us, are you claustaphobic, alergic to anything... let's see the back of your head. The back of my head??? Claustraphobic??? (Was that a subtle way to tell me "bye, bye"?). But... no... they actually inspected the "back of my head".

Apparently the chosen actor would have to have a live-cast-mask made (a process of 4 hours of being covered by goop). I started flashing on Star Wars, and Star Trek alien-creation documentaries I'd seen on TV... and heard myself say, "Hey...no problem! " The director asked if I could be available for the casting of the mold this week -IF CHOSEN? "Sure!"
They seemed impressed and very cordial as "Elvis left the stage". To me that's a bad sign. I like it when they want you to do more readings, or monologues or movements. So I kind of knew this wasn't going to happen for me.

As I went back to my bench to bundle up my coat, the green-dressed girl sauntered by again. This time I came face to face with her as she smilingly said "Excures me..." while waiting an inordinately long time (2 seconds) in front of me in order to pass through the narrow isle which I was opportunely blocking with my unnecessary "getting ready to leave movements". Just another performance at the Ripley /Grier Studios.

Celebrity feets

2006-01-10T17:07:00.002-05:00

A while ago... while tripping through the chilly airs of Bryant Park I noticed a small crowd of photographers gathered in the southwest corner. Something was up! I crunched through the dead leaves toward the hustle and bustle of a crowd of maybe 50 stand-arounds... and became one of them. I overheard a woman mentioning that Mayor Bloomberg, Kenneth Cole, Harry Belafonte and Natasha Richardson were going to appear with a kick-off of a new AIDS campaign entitled "We All Have AIDS". I wondered what would be new about it and decided to stick around for a few minutes.

Mayor B. and Kenneth C. spoke for a couple of minutes while the batallion of cameras flashed-up the otherwise desolate and lonely park at 10 in the morning. And although both speakers were emphatic about raising our consciousness toward this planetary plague, the only new thing about the presentation was the dedication of a silvery tunnel-like exhibit which contained the bas-relief footprints of 20 or so additional celebrities. After the short speeches and the photo-ops with Natasha and Harry, I decided to check out the "star-studded-feet-of-clay".

It was cute... that's about the best description of a row of foot-bottoms, which looked as though they would elicit a chuckle if you deigned to tickle them as you passed by. Whoopy Goldberg's were chubby, Elizabeth Taylor's were plump, and Barry Manilow's were HUGE (what a shwanshtukah he must have)! What a thrill to have to look at the bottom part of a celebrity and then consider that "we all have aids". I guess that's new.

Finally an audition-

2006-01-05T17:04:00.000-05:00

WHO ME?
Ho hummmm... where AM i?
Oh yes. I went for an audition to see if I could get back to my "horror movie roots"... and whdayaknow, I got the part. I'll be a cannibalistic father-figure -who really "likes" his family! Got a few nasty lines to practice -but hey, it keeps my "edge" semi-blunt. Well, what do you want... it's tough at this time of the year.

During my street-strutting adventures through the city, I saw a couple of stickers on the NO PARKING signs, saying that a particular crew will be filming in the area... and if there were any questions, call 336-6350. Coooool! I did, and it was Law & Order. They weren't looking for any extras at the time but the jazzy operator did refer me to the Grant Wilfley castcall dialup. Which, needless to say, I immediately took advantage of. The robo-human-voice at least provided some mailing information to send my electronic headshots to... one of which was sopranosextras@gmail.com. So I did... and of course, I'm still waiting for a callback... bada-boom, bada-bing.

Also, I went to a go-see on 14th Street for a documentary castcall. I had to fill out a "keep-yourself-busy" questionaire until they called me in. Got a camera pointed at me, slated my name and was asked to repeat some "first-impression responses" regarding the SUPERSIZE ME doc. And after a few more interview questions I got the old "we'll get in touch with you" response. Ta da!

It all starts when you're out of a job...

2005-12-09T19:59:00.002-05:00

SJ Parker, Kristin Davis and ME in Sex and the City (#87)

November 30th put me on the streets of Manhattan in search of a new way to get fired again. Well, I really didn't get fired but it feels the same when they tell you that you're part of the "10% cutback"...
My initial reaction is to start shotgunning my resume to all the "black holes" which take up the empty space on the web (aka "job boards"). I'll be out of work for a couple of months, of that I'm certain -after all, it's the "holiday season and all the hiring managers are on vacation"... oh joy! The good news is that I can re-enter the showbiz world I enjoy frequenting between paying-jobs, the world that brings my spirits up, the world I've just started to learn about during my last bout of joblessness -Yes folks, it's the Phantom Zone (where everybody looks at you and right through you because you don't exist in the real world)! But -I confess, I've been bitten... and so I'm returning to my not-so-secret other "job", -that of a "movie extra". I've actually been able to put together a decent resume from my payless stints at various schools (NYU, SVA, Brooklyn College, et al), independent movie roles like Satan's Little Helper, and an occasional TV show (I was a Barney's shopper in episode 87 of Sex and the City), plus some looser commercial shoots like NYC2012 (the directore, Noam Munro, actually told us we were just "cannon fodder"... the Olympic committee had already chosen another city...hmmm, at least it was a quick $50).
The acting books of Peter Brook have struck a sympathetic chord for me. I believe that "experimental theater" is the way to go.
I've been scouring the freebie castcall boards for something meaningfull -but there are very few creative thinkers out there and I just don't have the desire to do "nothing". I suppose that also dooms my possibilities of being a working extra!?
Now, let's see what dreck Craig's List has to offer today.