A Big Two Days

Lux n' U finally made it around to its fifth birthday. It feels more like the twelfth or so but I'll let that slide. We threw a little celebration for friends and family and then all of those friends and family were surprised to arrive to our house only to find friends and family

"Didn't you invite your colleagues, your wholesalers, even some old clients," lots of friends and family asked me. 

"I did not," I informed them. One should only celebrate themself with the people who know that they'd never truly celebrate themself. I wanted an excuse to have a party, and this tiny milestone, accompanied with the knowledge that I hope not to make it to the next business milestone, seemed like the perfect excuse to have a charcuterie board and a good laugh that I've been pulling this off for so long. 

In the days leading up to the party, we cleaned the house with extra gusto, the way you do before people come over and you don't want them to know the dusty truth. Brett and I reveled in loss of floating dog hairs in the home and decided we should pretend to throw a party every two weeks or so, and then we could live like this full time. I also took down the Narcissistic Family Portrait display in the dining room so that I could make something jazzy and unexpected. There are all kinds of floral things that I want to make. They either involve weird shapes, unromantic colors, or creativity - things you don't find in the wedding world. I used this as my opportunity to unleash my repressed floral designer and it was truly invigorating. It confirmed my suspicions that I could be better at my job if people left me alone to do it.

Just like our wedding day, the happy smiles and well-wishes and tasty snacks blew past us in moments. The friends and family all noticed that I had used the same caterer and baker for a few of the treats. It was a selection of people from our wedding day guest list, and then they commented that I was wearing a little white top. 

"Are you just trying to relive your wedding day?" more than five people asked me. 

Yes. Wholeheartedly yes.  

The next day, I branched out of my safety bubble, got up at 5am, drove to Daniel Island, and checked in with HBO to spend the day as a background extra on a tv show that films here. There was a casting call in the newspaper, which I read with great interest because we don't really have those around here. I giggled at the thought of it and then called my friend Ellie to see if she'd do it with me. 

"I've applied three other times and they never choose me," she said, "but yeah, I'll try again." Relieved that the chances were slim, I sent in my "headshot" and measurements and shoe size, and I waited. Two hours later I got an email asking if I'd be willing to take a covid test and give them my entire Monday, no matter the hours. I immediately regretted the whole thing as I wrote back, "Sure, no problem." I filled out a bunch of forms, took two covid tests, and mulled over the inner workings of my character.

Ellie also got selected, much to her fearless delight, but they choose her for Tuesday's shoot so we wouldn't get to do it together. 

I was less interested in doing it without Ellie. They don't give you any details at all until the day before your call time. Where would I be? Would it be hot? Cold? I'm sure they'll have food, right? What can I bring with me? Where will I put my phone and wallet and keys when I'm "on set"? I had a lot of questions.  The night before, I was given a time and location to arrive, clothes to be dressed in, and the character of "movie crew."

We were shooting a scene within a scene, you see. The scene being, the characters in the show were filming a movie in the show, so we had the real crew, making things happen, and then we had the extras, dressed as crew, pretending to make things happen. 

The real crew thought it was "very cute" to watch the extras pretend to make the movie, though it did make it hard to tell who was in charge. 

Anyways, I put on my slouchiest black clothes, had a minor panic attack, and then finally buckled up and drove the 45 minutes to Daniel Island. I am ashamed of the anxiety I felt about this. I was tickled and calm about it all until I woke up that morning, and then I nearly didn't go. I understand that most people don't like "the unknown" but I was having a particularly hard time with it for something that is often described as "boring and fun" and takes absolutely no qualifications to do successfully. I have no problem with my not being brave person, but this was too much. I needed to get a grip. Moreover, I thought about all the scary things in life that I haven't come to yet and I wondered how I'll ever get through it. More on that existential crisis later.

I sat in an old conference room with all the other extras as we were assessed one by one; first by the costume department, then make-up, hair, and finally props. The costume department determined our "role" for the day. We could be camera operators, hair and make-up, stunt performers, sound people, etc. I was selected to be "2nd assistant director" which meant nothing to me but when the real crew asked what I was and I told them that, they all acted impressed and excited, because they must have forgotten that it's all fake. As the 2nd AD (thats industry lingo), the costume department loved my outfit (I was one of the only people who they didn't make change - more in this in a moment) but they really mulled over whether or not I should keep my hairband on my wrist. While the three women looked me up and down like I was a painting in a gallery, the conversation went like this:

"Hey, will you take that scrunchie off?"

"Sure," I said, slipping it off my wrist and tucking it into my pocket.

"Wait," one said.

"What," the girls all said to each other.

"In real life, she'd have the scrunchie."

"Well that's true. We're all wearing them now." Then everyone looked at everyone's wrists. I pulled the hairband out of my pocket and put it back around my wrist. Everyone looked at the scrunchie, and then back at me, up and down, and then back at the scrunchie.

"I don't know, normally we take those off."

"But on a movie set, people aren't dressed like movie characters." There was silence.

"Yeah, it's like, if this was real life, we'd have scrunchies on," the ditziest one said.

"Yeah, set people have hairbands." More studied silence.

In the end, I got to keep my scrunchie. Then they debated if my brown boots were too "bright brown" before they sent me back to the conference room to wait for makeup. I was one of few that didn't have to change because all the other girls came in dressed to be discovered. Even though there was an entire email sent to us about the dark, loose clothing that film crew wear ("Please wear dark, very casual clothes. Below are some photo examples...") girls arrived in short black dresses and Fall boots. Scarves, hats, etc. One girl arrived in a crop top. Another girl did wear black pants and a tight black t-shirt but her giant fake boobs stuck out way too far so they put a bulky knit sweater overtop of her outfit. Crop top girl was given a full sized shirt and an apron to wear, while the girls in dresses were put in long pants and jackets. The men were easier of course, because they could just dress like themselves, but a few older men were chosen to be "producers" and they were put in nice button-downs and slacks. One man was called back three times to change the color of his polo. The costume girls couldn't make a decision. 

The hair and make-up girls looked and me and then waved their hands and went on to the next person. While I was initially flattered, later that day a make-up girl passed me in the hall and told me to reapply my lipstick. I told her I wasn't wearing any and she said, "You mean you went out on set... like that?" 

That balanced things out again.

Meanwhile, in the conference room, the extras were quiet. A mix of sleep and uncertainty filled the air. After hair and make-up, you were allowed to go to craft services for breakfast but I was too nervous to eat. Meanwhile, I had befriended Tom, a fifty-something Korean man who was endearingly oblivious to the rules and was also exhilarated by all the hubbub. He and his wife have just retired and are on a mission to have new experiences. "So today I signed up to be in a movie!" he declared. "It actually a show," someone told him. 

"Is it?" he asked, "I've never heard of it." 

He was hunting out breakfast when they told us about the scene we were shooting. "Today we're shooting a stunt scene...not a big shoot today...we'll be working with these three actors, etc."

Minutes later Tom came back and said, "I wonder what the scene is about."

Just before they called us to set, Tom and I were sent to the prop department. I was given a walkie-talkie, a headset with a bunch of chords that ran in and out of my clothes, and some extra batteries clipped to my belt. I looked very official. Meanwhile, Tom was outright laughing as they clipped wires to his belt and gave him a utility vest. He was so tickled and excited. Even though there was a strict "no pictures" policy, Tom handed me his phone with the camera already pulled up, and then motioned for me to take his picture. I hesitated as the prop people watched us.

"Take it," he said, "for my family. They will love this."

I did it quickly and then the prop people told us not to do it again. Tom was unfazed while I was apologetic.

Tom was somehow always goofing off somewhere when the crew would come in with instructions. He'd come back into the conference room and everyone would be packing up stuff. His eyes would light up and he'd run over to ask what was going on.

"They need the camera and sound guys on set," I'd tell him. 

"Oh wow," he'd say as he sat back down in his chair.

"You're the boom operator," I'd remind him.

"What that?"

"That's sound. You need to go."

"Me?"

"Yeah!"

"Now?"

"Uh huh."

"Oh boy!" and then he'd scamper off.

As the 2nd AD, my job was to march through the set as though I was very busy. There was a 20 yard stretch through the "crew" that I must have walked back and forth 60 times. In one scene, I was the only one walking and everyone else was still, so I really hated that. They had me start my walk slightly off set, so when we reset between shots, I could see the playback footage that the real crew were watching and thats when I discovered that I walk like a girl. Like a girlie girl. I was transfixed. "Is that what I look like when I walk?" I said out loud to no one. I became determined to walk "cooler", the way you imagine you look walking down the street in a leather jacket. They'd yell "Action!" and I'd march through the set and then loop back to start and watch the monitors. The walk got worse and worse. 

It was very cold on set. Even the men were chilly so that tells you something. It was in fact a stunt scene so we watched a real stunt guy fall four stories out of a window many times. It was hard to watch, as you don't usually see human bodies falling through open air, but it was neat to see how calculated and precise the fall was. All the women on set would gasp and hold their breath. All the men wanted to try jumping out the window.

There was really tasty food there as well. There were the hot meals you needed to eat and then there was a giant counter with every junk food snack you could imagine, all up for grabs any time. I loved watching the real crew busily accomplishing things and cutting up with each other. When they'd finish a shot from one angle, all the crew would descend onto the set like busy ants on a hill, and they'd twist things and crank stuff, and carry things, cling clang, thump! And when they all scampered out again, it was a whole new setting. 

I'm almost done with this report, I promise. 

Even though most often the background extras spend most of their day sitting in the waiting room, we got lucky and only had to sit for 45 minutes two or three times that day. It was a 12 hour day and I was always either hungry or needed to go to the bathroom. The second big shot of the day had me walk my same stretch but this time I had to carry two stacked Starbucks cups and a croissant in a napkin. This sounds simple but it was a test of balance (the way I had to weave around famous actors and all) and my hands got progressively more sweaty. I was worried I'd drop the coffee at the feet of Hollywood's near-elite. I was so close to them I coulda kissed 'em. All of my new Extra friends would silently cheer when I made through the set and out the other side. They'd all laugh at me juggling the cups and make comments about getting my steps in for the day. They all seemed to have easier jobs that kept them pretending to be busy in place. A few of them had jobs where they got to sit down - those were the real winners of the day. One Extra was chosen to be in the scene. They gave her a few lines and one of those folding canvas Hollywood chairs. The rest of us Extra's were a divided house. Half were jealous, and the other half were so glad it wasn't them. There was a surprising number of shy people that were certainly not looking for their big break. 

Towards the end of the day, Tom got bored and wanted to go home. "I didn't know we were just going to shoot the same thing over and over and over. All this for a single scene? It's too much." At some point he decided to try to lightly brush the lead actor with his fuzzy boom as he walked by. I couldn't see him from where I was standing but it was a real testament to how not-seriously Tom was taking things. "I might just have to go home," Tom said. "What do you think happens if I just leave?"

We were dismissed shortly after that, so Tom got to keep his pay for the day. We all turned in our props and visited the snack bar one more time on the way out. 

When I came home, I felt that the experience was a net neutral, because it doesn't add up to anything really. Then Brett, with his optimism and pragmatic outlook, suggested that I should be pleased that I tried something new, met people I liked, learned a little about filming, had the opportunity to do something so unique(ish), and will get to see my young self on a tv show when I'm an old lady. He's probably right but it still felt like a long day to be uncomfortable. As time has passed, I'm quite pleased that I did it. But don't tell Brett that he's got the right outlook.

Ellie went for her day as an extra, and she was out in the hot sun for 14 hours. They were shooting a Fall scene so she had on a thick sweater and had to cozy up with her boyfriend (another sweaty extra) on a park bench. Seeing as she's married to a woman and all, we all found this extra funny. She was in a scene with my favorite character on the show (her name is Judy), and Ellie said she (Judy) was so funny that she (Ellie) had a really hard time not laughing. Instead of getting frustrated, Judy was amused by Ellie's amusement. That's what you want to hear about a famous person.