These overly-long posts recounting The Greatest Days Of My Life as an extra in the Transformers movie contain spoilers. They definitely have spoilers for the current movie. They might contain future spoilers for the dvd release(s). On the other hand, they might not have future spoilers, because really I know jack about what the production team is planning for the future. Just in case, this is your warning. IF YOU HATE SPOILERS, STOP READING NOW.
What does this post, which was supposed to go for Thursday, tell you? It tells you I didn't get around to it until Friday night. Which means the final post in this series, which was supposed to show up on Friday, is not going to show up until Sunday sometime once I find a free stretch to sit down and write it. Which means certain friends are going arrrrgggghhh because they were *massively* looking forward to Friday being the last day of obsessive TF blather. This is not my fault, choombas. Blame the day job. Apologies for any inconvenience caused.
Also, Ms. C is right, these should have subheads and be better organized. On the other hand ... SHUT UP.
Glossary bits are provided as needed. If you're coming in at the middle and you see a term that
doesn't make sense, check out the earlier entries of this week. Chances
are that term showed up in an earlier glossary. That said, the first glossary entry for this post is a repeat because I felt it would be useful.
- Background. That's the Hollywood term for extras.
- SAG. Screen Actor's Guild. Any actor who is SAG is union, but not every actor is SAG, particularly among background. Obtaining the credits needed to become SAG is not unlike taking the Ring to Mordor.
- Reset.
You do a scene, then you go back to
where you were and do it over and again. For the uber-blondes, that
meant sitting in the Escalade. For the rest of us, that meant sprinting
then going back to where we
started sprinting. For the PAs, that meant we weren't resetting fast
enough. Apparently after you sprint for 200 - 500 feet you're supposed to either sprint back or teleport to your starting position. After a while we tended to walk while ignoring the PA cries of "Background! We're in RESET. Let's GO people! We need to RESET. NOW."
- Catering. That's where you go for breakfast and lunch.
- Craft services. This is where you go for food when catering is closed. I'm still not entirely clear on why catering and craft services are not one and the same, but it might be because the outlets are run by different contractors. I really don't know.
I'm going to repeat this, too: These are the observations of an
outsider. I am not an actress. I've been on a lot of movie sets over
the years because of the previous day job, but stuff that struck me as
weird or wildly fascinating probably wouldn't seem so to someone who spends every working day
on a set. Factor that in as you read on.
One thing I like to do is talk to people, or rather, poke them a little bit and then listen while they talk. This is a trait common to my previous profession. When they're not getting on my nerves, I like people. Since there's a lot of down time on a movie set I figure if if I'm going to be around a bunch of folks who probably have interesting stories to tell, they may as well entertain me with them. People who like to talk about themselves need an appreciative audience. Everybody wins!
Which means perhaps you're wandering back from craft services and you see a group of guys in uniforms unlike all of the other Army uniforms. Theirs are kind of like jumpsuits. You change trajectory and wander over to them, stop in front of the black one and say "Hello! Your outfits aren't like the other Army outfits. Is there a Sector 8 or something?"
And he'll say: "We're the flight crew."
And you say: "Oh! You're playing the blackhawk pilots."
And he says: "We ARE the blackhawk pilots."
And you say: "Oh. ... Do you ever get a headache from them being so loud?"
After a round of shaking hands, they tell you a little bit about what it's like to fly a blackhawk and how they got involved with flying a blackhawk for a movie. But before you can get into all the questions popping into your head, particularly the most important one,*** your Alpha Sense starts tinging. So you say "gotta go!" and flee into the bunker with the rest of the background herd.
Then a few minutes later (and from a safe distance) you watch as Bay gesticulates wildly as he describes to them how he wants them to fly. Just as you're wondering where the helicopters are parked because you don't recall seeing any around, it hits you that you get to tell your friends you met real life blackhawk pilots. Only two of them will be impressed.
Yet almost everyone was impressed by the stories I shared from the blonde I had an enormously fun time listening to over those days. She was there with her mother, also an actress. She had been in
couple of Bay's other movies, and her stories of what everybody (background and principals) had to
go through for The Island were both horrifying and hilarious. She said Bay called his approach "Method Directing," and half the people at the table just about fell out when she said it. Her energy was great, and she had the timing of solid stand-up comedian. She was pulled for a highlight on Sunday night after they got rid of the rest of us. I don't know what she shot, but I was so looking forward to seeing her on the screen. She got cut, too. I regret that I cannot remember her name so I can keep an eye out for her as her career goes on and cheer as she makes her way up the chain.
Though I was massively entertained by all sorts of people during those days, there were only two others in background that I bonded with - Kris and Joe. They are both smart, funny guys. Joe has working the Hollywood game for a while, while Kris is a newbie. Both vibed to me as participants in life...as in, the life you want? You have to go get it. Kris left medical school one year ago when he realized what he really wanted to do was act. He risked, moved out to Hollywoodland, and within seven months had earned the third voucher needed to qualify for SAG. Even I know that is amazing. An effort of five years between starting out and SAG eligibility is more common. (I mention Kris' details because he does so on his site. Joe's efforts and history are also impressive to me, but I don't put other people's business into the public sphere if they haven't already done so.)
For the record, only the first picture in this post was shot by Kris. The rest, which were shot on the set, were were not shot by him. Nor were they shot by me because I don't own a camera. Those background people were taking pictures of each other ALL THE TIME, which was so funny considering how the PAs guarding the perimeter would scream at passer-by that they were not allowed to take pictures, even though those folks were standing on a public street watching what was happening on a public street.
I don't have a picture of Joe, but here's Joe's website. Off to the side is a picture of me, Kris and vehicle mode Bumblebee, provided by Kris from when we all went to see the movie. Here is Kris' website. Here is what Kris wrote about me a few days after filming back in the fall. Here is what Kris wrote about me after we went to see the movie.
What I find a complete hoot about Kris' first post, besides the fact that his Mom thought he *must* have been making it up, is what he describes as being the flame crazy people are drawn to I call a Weirdness Magnet. I am also a Weirdness Magnet! I can be sitting quietly minding my own business and weird people or situations will Manifest in front of me. I hardly make special note of it anymore it happens so often. To learn that I was the weird thing for someone else's magnet slays. Knowing how many oddballs can show up on a set, I am Deeply Honored to be officially ranked among his collection of crazy people. In fact, I am THE most crazy one he's come across to date. Thank you, thank you. No pictures, please.
Anywho, besides getting a chance to talk to all sorts of people trapped someplace they can't leave, I was very much looking forward to being able to encounter a big studio movie set without the protective layer that comes with being press. Having over the years talked to or been buddies with below-the-line folks (along with reading articles like everyone else) I had developed a working hypothesis of what it must be like in that life. Though I realize two days inside one set is probably not enough to make Grand Sweeping Generalizations, I'm gonna do it anyway.
A big movie set is its own ecosystem. There is a firm and obvious
overall heirarchy, and subsets of rank within each section. Every single thing and person on a set exists as a tool to be used by the top being (that would be the director) to bring the vision to life. How those tools are treated largely depends on the temperment/interpersonal style of the director, and that person's vibe *will* set the tone for the entire shoot. There is a peculiar teamwork at play; yes everyone wants to work together to pull off the Work. But that the same time there is constant intercine among each strata. I am now convinced there are a few rules that apply to any big movie set anywhere. (I'll note that when I first started trying to work this out, a couple of people told me this isn't something special to movie sets. Perhaps it's more obvious on a movie set due to it being a closed system. I think they're correct.)
- There is no time to coddle anyone, except maybe the principals.
- For background, and whatever you call the people who are somewhere between principal and background, there is the constant hunt for the Moment that will bring you to the attention of the right people.
- Same with the PAs.
- If being here is your job, it's only partially about the work you're filming at the time. It's mostly about what you're going to be doing when this is over. It's ALWAYS about the Next Thing and the attempt to make your participation/role in that Next Thing bigger than whatever you are doing in the current work. It's a life of hustle and constant networking. (I'm not sure if this one applies to those higher-up, but it was the default vibe for background, PAs and some of the lower level crew.)
- Everybody knows where they fall in rank. They will often behave accordingly.
- It's not that They don't care, it's just that They don't care. It's not personal, even if it feels like it at the time.
The situation with the pack of brunettes is a good example of the last. I don't know if these women knew each other beforehand, or if they gravitated to each other in the background pool for support as it became clear that if Bay was going to pull a background female for a highlight, 9 times out of 10 he was going to pull a blonde. (This is why I was flummoxed when I realized neither blondes nor ubers were anywhere to be seen in the final product. I think you had to be there to get just how weird it was that none of these women showed up in the final battle sequence.) One of these women was relatively new to both acting and background operations. When she realized what was going on she complained many times to various PAs, who did not care and could not do anything about it even if they did. She was taking it personally, fearing every lost potential Moment signaled the destruction of her future career, and she wasn't listening to the others in that pack who were more experienced and tried to explain to her not to worry about it. When the stress of all of it hit her, she started crying. The others in that pack talked her down, helping her get together enough to head back on the street and flee with the rest of us.
What stood out about that situation was what happened Sunday night, when we were done and waiting for the vans to take us back to the parking lot. One of the crew guys walked over to that brunette pack and gave each of them a single flower, said nice things to them about their effort. I have no idea who this guy was, but I don't think he was very high up in the crew hierarchy. It was the sweetest thing, and the one who had been crying earlier beamed.
I don't want give the impression that background were meek sheep victimized at every turn. They fought back in so many ways. Sometimes it was a matter of ignoring the PAs as they screamed for us to teleport. Occasionally it was telling a PA that if s/he wanted the background person to do something that would involve clothing destruction, compensation was due. (SAG voucher or money. Always SAG voucher or money.) The clothing compensation request was a slightly bigger thing than it perhaps it comes across in reading. Though 9.5 times out of 10 the answer was "No," the request was made just the same. The point wasn't hoping for a "yes." They knew the request would be declined. I got the sense those little skirmishes were more about signaling I Am Not Furniture. I mean, think about it. The term used in Hollywood is "background," not "extras." An extra implies someone who is an extra person, someone who is human. Background implies a thing, like the ground you're walking on, the telephone pole you're hiding behind, the smashed taxi in the crater.
Or not. Sometimes I overthink...
I, of course, did not care about my clothes because I was there as a thrilled fan and not as a professional actor. The dress I wore that day still smells of that foul smoke, and my favorite boots, which I have kept in pristine condition for nearly a decade, are now scarred and scuffed. I will happily relate the origin of each and every scar on those boots without prompting.
Some of the veteran background would argue with even the Alphas! Early Saturday, just a couple of hours in, Bay was about to blow some shit up. It was way down the street from where the group I was with was standing. It was the first BOOM of the day and a couple of us wanted to see a little bit of it. The two PAs herding us told everybody to get on the sidewalk, stand under the awning, and as long as we did not go past the awning we were fine. Whatever they were shooting was straight down the street, and if stayed under the awning we wouldn't be in the shot. This was great because we could see some of the smudge pots used for the explosion.
We hear the countdown guy. There is a BOOM. Windows rattle. (Loft dwellers surrounding us above were taking picts of us waving at them, and they were filming the boom, but I've yet to find any uploads. I'm done looking.) There is a glorious bloom of fire, smoke and debris. Those of us who cared were cheering and clapping. The PAs stood chatting with each other and smoking, uninterested.
And then Alpha 1 uncloaked out of nowhere, speaking sternly at us. It turned out he
was across the street trying to signal us to move back further, but none of us saw him until he appeared asking what the hell we were doing. (Unlike the PAs, neither of the Alphas had a headset. I think this omission explained several of the minor communication breakdowns.)
I began apologizing as the guy cheering with me explained that the PAs told us to stand there. Of course when we turn around to dime them out, both of them are gone. This happened ALL THE TIME. A PA would tell you to do something. You'd do it. Someone higher than that PA would show up and yell at you for doing what you had been told. The PA responsible would always vanish right about then.
Gentle disobedience was another background resistance tactic. One of those days we were running flat out down Broadway, the thought hit that if we took a hard left and flung ourselves under the marquee of the Orpheum we could stop running. First a few did it. Next take, a few more. Next take, a few more. Then one of the Alphas showed up.
Or when we had to do worrisome things near the tow truck when it was not being operated by The Good Driver. We're on the sidewalk. The truck is going to move toward us. We are to run across the street in front of the truck. It is to keep going past us. Thing is, NONE of us wanted to run in front of that moving truck if The Good Driver was not behind the wheel. We had seen enough over those two days to know that would be a bad idea. When the unit director (a Latino guy, which was awesome to see) said
"action," we all took off and were across the streeet before the truck had a chance to even move. That's when he told us we weren't allowed to run until the three count. Half of us listened to him, and the rest of us didn't.
By the way, Kris, who is touched by the gods, got to stand NEXT to
Bumblebee and run behind him instead of running in front of the truck. During reset he kept popping out from behind Bumblebee and waving at me. I flipped him off every time. Afterwards, he told me that
the women running with him all took pictures of themselves while they
were standing next to Bumblebee. ENVY! but hahaha he got cut like the rest of us.
I suppose I should say that while you can't tell it in the film, there were at least 100 of us fleeing during that final battle
sequence. There were a lot more Army and Sector 7 guys running around
and involved in highlights. All added up and not counting principals or
ubers, I would not be surprised if there were nearly 150 to 200 people
fleeing around. I think most of us were cut because, in the end, we
weren't needed. If you have obsessively tracking this movie you're aware of at least a few things you might have been expecting to see. Remember the casting call for people who could pass for high school students? There's an entire sequence in the script about the destruction of a high school that is not in the film, yet that stuf was shot. There's the character of
Big Rhonda, who runs a pawn shop and has scenes in the script but none of those bits on the screen (though I don't know if those parts were also filmed). There was a set of twins, big guys who are real life Army vets involved in highlights, but not up there on screen. I was looking forward to seeing them. I've already told you about the uber-blondes, and mentioned in passing the fight between the Army and the Sector 7 guys. All gone! Personally I'm fine with that, as it would have just gotten in the way of the fantabulous 35 (or so) minute robot throw-down.
I cannot end this without talking about the food, which was INCREDIBLE. Full breakfast, full lunch, massive amounts of
treats from the craft services. All of it delish, most
of it delish and healthy. They made omlettes to order for breakfast, if you wanted one! We only had 1/2 hour for lunch during the 14-hour days, but
there was plenty of down time to nosh outside of that. You know how
blackberries are obscenely expensive? There were blackberries HEAPED all
over the place at craft services. They even had an industrial espresso
machine set up in the parking lot. Every few hours new food would appear in craft services and I made a point of going over and checking it out several times a day. Fruit, buns, chips, cream, hot dogs, Polish, popcorn, cheese, veggies all types of drinks, chicken, beef and on and on. I ate so much I believed them when some of the other background said that when they're working, they don't even bother going to the grocery store.
At the same time, several of my background brethren told me the level of food was unusual. Bay compensates for what he does to everybody by making sure all on set get top of the line food no matter who they are. Some of them knew this because of being in his other movies, some because they had heard it through the background grapevine. They said it is more common for background to get crap or minimal food on other sets. Wild, huh?
And that's enough typing for now. One more entry to go, which I will throw down sometime on Sunday.
*** The first thing I should have asked the blackhawk pilots, but didn't because my brain froze just a little bit, was if they were active duty and if Bay had called them and told them to bring some helicopters. Another silly thing James and I would do is The Executive Assistant For (Insert Name of Famous/Infamous Person). This one I do remember the origin! It grew from my first encounters with a group I called the Legion of Secretaries back when I was a newbie cop reporter. Their function was to keep you away from what you wanted to get. If you figured out how to work the Legion, you had much improved access. Somehow that grew into the Executive Assistant thing.
Once James did a riff on being the EA for Pol-Pot. I will not even *attempt* to replicate that here, but lord was it funny. He's probably in hell right now just for that. Another good one he did was the EA of David Mamet dealing with a photcopier repairman. Around the time Armageddon came out I came up with one involving the EA for Bay's production company calling the Pentagon to tell them to send the 33rd Fighter Wing to Burbank. In an hour. They're busy patrolling the Soviet Union? Huh. Well, see ... if they're not here in an hour, that's REALLY not gonna work for Michael. It always ended with the planes showing up in 55 minutes, and they brought along a tank the Pentagon said wasn't needed anymore in case he wanted to blow it up.
Good times.
