Crews was a background actor in 45 feature films shot on the East Coast, including Body Heat, Minority Report, Casino and Miss Congeniality 2: Armed and Fabulous. Crews moved to Los Angeles in 1998 and has acted in feature films, TV and student films while teaching beginning extras the ropes with his blog, BACKGROUND ACTING.
In 2009, Lary appeared in the TV shows Hawthorne, The Office, Raising The Bar, Cold Case, Heroes and Sons of Anarchy and in the feature films, Growth and Ground Zero. He also stars in the short films, A Taste for Danger and The Grandfather Paradox, and is featured in Coffee and Cream, The Delivery, The Visitor, and Handy Market.
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March 7, 2010
Times are tough for background actors right now. Production is down all around. More regular shows than usual have shut down production early and pilots didn’t kick in the last week of February as we’d hoped. But nearly into what looks to be the first real pilot season in three years, so all is not lost.
(Besides, those of us smart enough to have our bodies reconfigured for 3D anticipate scads of work.)
We background actors have to constantly find other ways to gain experience, make contacts or - best case scenario - make money. Toward the goal of gaining experience, getting free video for my reel and enjoying myself, I have specialized in student films over the last year.
For actors in my age range (45-60), student films are especially tempting because - once they’ve exhausted their parents (and believe me, some do) - students have a hard time finding older folks to be in their films.I’ve gained a reputation on campus for being agreeable, talented and eager to help out these kids who are trying to learn the business. Plus, my decades on set have made me production-savvy and an easy man with whom to work.
As I was negotiating the thick sand of Santa Monica beach today, shooting my final day as a co-star in Mitch Golden’s terrific USC student film, Sandcastles: A Mocumentary, with a cold wind a blowing, seagulls ignoring me and a small crowd of tourists watching from a distance, I was reminded of one reason I love this industry; it’s so cool to feel that you’re on the inside. Millions of people worldwide would give anything to be the focus of a movie camera.
Another providential thing about student films is the networking that can develop. I got the part of Jack “Sandman” McKee in Sandcastles because a girl on a film I shot last fall (The Grandfather Paradox) was drinking coffee and talking about me with a friend at a Starbucks near USC and a young producer overheard and mentioned me to a friend writing a film. Actually, my work starring in one early 2009 student film led to roles in four other student films, thanks to the co-directors of the first project.
In March 2009, CSUN co-directors Jessica Carr and Paul Arzoian guided me through a funny little film with a lousy script called A Taste For Danger. (I am not being mean. Screenwriter Sergio Serna actually blogged online about knocking out the screenplay in 20 minutes and not rewriting it. The evidence is on the page.)
A Taste of Danger gave me a good role; I played Don Romano, an aging Godfather whose son has been kidnapped by my rival Don Carlo. After consulting with my advisers, I go to Don Carlo’s office confront him, and - despite a few half-hearted threats of violence - we have a meeting of the minds.
We shot Scene Two on the first night, in the second-floor catering office of the Handy Market, reachable through a mini-warehouse and up a flight of stairs.
Burbank’s Handy Market - if you’re new in town - is a unique grocery opened in 1970 by Harry Arzoian (Paul’s grandpa). Harry’s son Alan, who still operates the market, created a crafts services arm in 1980 (Sunrise to Sunset Catering), and that’s the office in which his son, Paul, was co-directing me.
The next night, we moved to an office on the California State University at Northridge (CSUN) campus to shoot the FIRST scene of the film, directed by Jessica Carr. In that scene, in Don Romano’s office, I receive a ransom note from Don Carlo. (He has my son; I have his.) I talk to my adviser and decide to go over and face Don Carlo in his office (the scene we’d shot the night before). Since the scene was shorter with fewer inserts and more space for camera, sound and crew, we were done in just four hours. It was a great experience and - considering the poor script - I’m reasonably proud of the final product, which you can see here:
I had just returned from a meeting at CSUN with Jessica Carr and Rob Fisher, the young writer and director of The Grandfather Paradox, in which I was scheduled to star a week later, when Paul Arzoian called and asked me to play Andy, a grocer, in Handy Market, a gentle comedy written by Crystal Rachal, which Paul was about to direct. I jumped at the chance to work with him again.
We shot the film one Thursday night in November 2009, inside the actual Handy Market, near the corner of Magnolia and Buena Vista in Burbank. I play grocer Andy Warholl (I know. I know. I made the obligatory joke about being an artist before I became a grocer and offered to paint some soup cans and got the expected laugh.)
With all credit to the crew and director, Paul Arzoian, it was a pleasant and professional shoot and I got home at 1am, proud, pleased and wiped out. (I am, of course, older than the rest of them.)
Here’s the finished film:
As mentioned, one of the co-directors of A Taste for Danger, Jessica Carr, had already hired me to star in a student film called The Grandfather Paradox. We shot that film two weeks after Handy Market, in fall 2009.
My young co-star, (Jonnie Stapleton) and I hit it off immediately while filming Rob Fisher’s film about a young man who is forced to take in his grandfather (me) because, as my character, Alfred, tells him repeatedly, “Your grandmother has taken a lover!”
The Grandfather Paradox was a fun shoot.
The cast, although uniformly less than half my age, was friendly, cooperative and pleasant to me. The primary scene in the short film takes place at an outdoor backyard party. I have pressured Blake, my grandson, to bring me along as he and two friends go out for the evening. Eager to “get back into the dating game,” I drink a little too much at the instigation of Blake’s buddies and throw up on the shoes of a girl he’s trying to get to know at the bar.
Here’s that film:
If you’re keeping score, A Taste for Danger led to Handy Market and The Grandfather Paradox, which led to Super Rangers and Sandcastles: A Mockumentary.
There’s a lot of good student film-making going on in Los Angeles area colleges and I am delighted to be a “go-to-guy” when they need someone old. I am always up for a good role in a student film as evidenced by the fact that I will soon be going before the cameras in Super Rangers, a TV pilot co-produced by Paul Arzoian which follows five washed-up rangers, spoofing Power Rangers.
As Paul put it: “I am coming to you to ask if you would like to play our Rangers’ “boss.” “Here’s the catch: the boss is literally a head sitting on a table, so I’m not sure how you’d feel about that.” To which I replied, “Paul, for you, I’d play a nose.”
February 28, 2010
A really odd thing happened to me this most recent Thursday and Friday. Actually, it happened four times in 48 hours. That’s what made it so odd. I auditioned for four different productions in four different locations in two days in a row.
Those who read my posts regularly (2 people, I would imagine) know that I have been a background actor for decades and love what I do and do not aspire to stardom. However, I’d have to be crazy or very dull not to be making a continuing effort to move up to “under fives*,” character parts or the coveted “guest star” on The Mentalist, Criminal Minds or Medium that I dream of every night as I go to sleep.
To that end, we background actors throw ourselves into the ninth concentric circle of hell, also known as AUDITIONING.
In spite of responding to everything I find on Now Casting and Hollywood OS, my two favorite online casting clearinghouses, I hadn’t had an audition in several weeks so it was a great surprise to me when I landed two in one day, scheduled for Thursday, February 25, 2010. Then, I landed a third one for early Friday morning and - while walking from the parking garage at the corner of La Brea and Santa Monica Blvd to CAZT Studios for the second one on Thursday - I got the call scheduling a fourth one, for the next day; Friday.
Let me intersperse a little well-earned personal knowledge here: I have learned to audition for anything for which I am remotely right. Why? Because even the inevitable dead ends where you screw it up or they decide to “go a different direction” give you something you would not pay for if you could but you should: experience auditioning. So, I audition for student films, Internet webisodes, pilots, commercials as well as TV and film projects. Since I cannot afford, nor do I deserve an agent, I find them myself and I maintain my own schedule and follow-thru.
Audition #1 1:45pm Thursday 2-25-2010 Now Casting Burbank
I submitted for a part in William F. Reed’s fascinating web series project, Zomby Inc. which I was sent by my terrific friends at Now Casting. The role is a natural for me, Jack Striker, a recurring character described as “the new and improved (or so he thinks) Geraldo Rivera. He reads the news better than anyone before and way better than anyone in the future. Imagine Michael Scott and Dwight Schrute as the same person reading the news and you have an idea as to who Jack Striker really is.”
Since I spent 20 years early in my life as a broadcast journalist and TV anchor, I knew this guy. So, when I arrived for the audition early Thursday, I strode in to the audition room, all power and glory and bullshit and shook hands with the two young casting directors, saying, “Hi. I’m Jack Striker. But, then you knew that. Bet you still have your Jack Striker lunch boxes.” They laughed and never stopped smiling through two reads of the material and some improv.
Sure enough, by Sunday, I got my callback notice Email with the comment, “Congratulations! ‘There’s just something about that guy’ is the phrase we keep using. Nellie and I would very much like to invite you to call-backs… We liked what you brought to the audition and would like to see more.”
Audition #2 3:15pm Thursday 2-25-2010 CAZT Studios West Hollywood
An hour later, I sat among about 35 young good looking actors and actresses in the CAZT Studios waiting room (there were six productions being cast there that day) chatting with two talented actors in my age group about the business. This call was very mysterious. All I knew was that I was auditioning to play a high school principal and that the project was a TV pilot. After waiting about 45 minutes, I was called in, asked to do two lines twice, did so, and was thanked. Turned out the project is a TV remake of the 1950s game/reality show, Queen for a Day and I was auditioning to praise a contestant not yet chosen. Curious.
Audition #3 10:00am Friday 2-26-2010 Chapman University Orange
On Friday morning, I drove across on the 210 and down the 57 to Orange and Chapman University’s modern and beautiful Dodge College of Film and Media Arts. In the same room in which I’d had my first rehearsal for Breanna Wing’s wonderful little film, The Visitor, I read for three young men casting a student film called An Educator.
Frankly, I was underwhelmed by the one set, two-character, one scene script which basically involved a young educator arguing with an older educator about the latter’s inability to cope with new computerized learning methods. It was, at best, a warmed over debate in which neither side seemed very interested in the outcome. One risk you take in auditioning for student films is the frequency with which the scripts are really lame. I was in and out in 13 minutes. (After a 90-minute drive, by the way.)
Audition #4 2:00pm Friday 2-26-2010 USC Los Angeles
Three hours later, at the USC campus in downtown LA, I had the opportunity to audition for another project in which I really would like to be involved, Mitchell Golden’s fascinating SANDCASTLES : A MOCKUMENTARY. Basically, the short film is about a budding documentarian who follows the major players in the (fictional) Greater Los Angeles Sandcastle Showcase (GLASS).
The role for which I read was a lead character named Jack McKee. Recently divorced and trying way too hard to cover up his depression with false optimism, McKee abandoned his highly-paid job as an architect to join the sandcastle circuit, which has become an obsession. He’ll do anything to win his fifth trophy.
Mockumentary is perhaps my favorite film form. I have worshiped at the shrine of Christopher Guest (Waiting for Guffman, Best In Show, A Mighty Wind and For Your Consideration) for over a decade and studied with several experts in the field and - frankly - have a natural gift for the straight-faced improv the genre requires.
To prepare, I spent the half-hour before my audition sitting at a desk in the hallway writing down a series of improv hooks such as “I invented the Sandula, of course. You know, that special spatula that all sandcastle builders use.” “My wax-coated shorts to which sand does not adhere and my ultra wide-brimmed sun shade hat/umbrella called the McKee Shadebrella are very popular.” I also made notes about my brush with infamy when I was accused - in what the press referred to as Watergate 1999 - of mixing quick-drying cement with my sand and water and how it affected my career.
I spent about 20 minutes with Mitch and his camera and computer in which he interviewed me and I totally improvised my answers based on his notes and mine. I had a great time. From his inscrutable smile, I cannot guess whether he will cast me. 
But it was a great experience to exercise my mockumentary muscles once more.
So, two days, four parts - two of which I really hope I get - and now it’s back to checking my Email constantly and waiting for the phone to ring.
Bottom line: most casting directors and student filmmakers want you to do well. They’ll not judge you harshly; they simply want to find the perfect person for the role. One casting director confided in me, “The casting process is as exhausting and difficult for us as it is for the actors. We’re just waiting for the right person to walk in the room so we can all go home. I want to see an actor who is prepared,” she explained, “but not so over-rehearsed that they can’t take direction. And I am especially happy if they show up on time.”
I strive, when auditioning, to be relaxed, friendly and anything but needy. Seeming desperate is a sure way not to get a role. Casting directors already know I want them to hire me. That’s a given. I avoid unnecessary chit-chat and do not linger in the room after I read. I smile, thank them for the opportunity and make my exit.
When it comes down to it, getting the job is 5% what you do, 10% what you look like, and 85% dumb luck.
*
The “Under Five” - This is a role where the actor has under five lines to speak.
February 21, 2010
My background acting career began on the East Coast and 95% of my jobs back there were major studio feature films. From the James Bond film, Licence to Kill, to the extraordinarily bad Burt Reynolds movie Cop and A Half, I’ve spent lots of time as a small frog in huge ponds. After my inevitable move westward to LA, I began doing more television, commercials, and short films and I must admit that among my most memorable shoots have been the small ones, like re-enactment roles and indy films.
My first reenactment job in LA aired three dozen times on the Investigation Discovery cable network in early 2009. The show, Solved, is a true-crime series that presents real cases in which a mysterious homicide case unfolds through first person accounts from law enforcement officers.
My episode (Grave Danger) was about the 2003 shooting death of Louisiana Tech assistant professor Stephanie Pepper Sims. My role, with four significant scenes, was as Howard, the father of the murdered girl.
The shoot was was like hanging out with my son and his friends. Decked out in T-shirts, shorts and baseball caps, these guys and girls shot five setups all over the valley with a half-dozen re-enactors in about six hours of low key effort. Craft services was granola bars, fruit and bottles of water but the fun was contagious.
A few months later, I saved a child’s life when a plane went down in the Hudson River. Of course, since it was a television reenactment filmed for Nippon TV by an all-Japanese crew, I’ll probably never see it. (Unless someone in Japan wants to send me a video. Hint. Hint.) We did the whole shoot at Air Hollywood, which is actually neither one. (It’s not in the air and it’s not in Hollywood.) Air Hollywood is an airplane mock-up studio out in San Fernando, a small town that exists primarily in the minds of its inhabitants. The studio houses a wide-body jet interior, several smaller airplane interiors and an expansive standing airport terminal set.
In the tiny extras holding area, I did what I usually do: I paid attention and looked interested. Sure enough, our Japanese-American handler approached me, “We like you play featured part. No lines but you get $50 character bump.”
He seated me by a window in the first row behind First Class in the airplane cabin mock-up. He introduced me to a young woman and a 2-year-old boy with his mother hovering nervously behind.
The director – a diminutive Japanese woman wearing a Sony T-shirt – talked rapidly to our handler who told me, “You are man who save baby life when plane hit river by holding child against his fat tummy.”
(Well, that certainly was type-casting.)
He handed the 2-year old boy to the woman beside me and the kid start bawling ten seconds later. The crew, the mommy and the actress tried for a half hour to get the kid to work without screaming. From the crew came everything from “Scooby Doo” and “Mickey Mouse” to “Fuzakeruna!” and “Urusai kono bakayaro!” No luck.
The crew tried for a half hour to get a simple shot of the mom handing the kid to me and me bending over forward with the child against my stomach before they finally gave up and brought in a stand-in; a doll. (The doll must have been SAG for it worked quietly, efficiently and - I presume - for more money.)
In all, an 8 hour shoot, all indoors with virtually no time in holding. Because of the character bump, my pay was $155 in cash on the spot. I drove away a happy guy.
Easy but odd were the two hours (at $150 an hour) I spent working The Tim and Eric Awesome Show, Great Job! The seriously weird fifteen-minute show, now in its fifth season on the Adult Swim divison of the Cartoon Network, is bizarre and satirical, like watching a day in the programming of a sloppily cut together, nonsensical cable-access channel.
Creators/stars Tim Heidecker and Eric Wareheim have a twisted sense of humor, one that leaves even die-hard fans scratching their head. That’s why I was amazed that they hired me to be one of four “dads” in a series of cut-aways about “dad’s day.”
They found me on Now Casting and called me in for an audition on a Wednesday morning at their secluded headquarters in a totally nondescript building a block off Santa Monica Blvd in Hollywood. Afterward, as I navigated the Cahuenga Pass toward home, I got the call hiring me for $300 for two hours for a Friday AFTRA shoot.
Joining me on the shoot were an Asian dad, a buzz-haircut dad, and a black dad. One by one, we stood on the green paper floor in front of the green paper screen and rapped, sang and danced. Although I didn’t know until later, the tall guy directing us was actually Eric himself, while Tim was in the control room hovering over the monitors. It was immediately apparent from their feedback that Tim and Eric wanted us to be as bad as possible and we all rose (or fell) to the occasion. Within two hours we were done, laughing and shaking our heads as we turned in our costumes.
The polar opposite of Tim and Eric was my experience on a small indy film, We’re Closed, which I expect will be winning awards at film festivals worldwide. It afforded me the extraordinary experience of working with an buff crew, good gear and a sensitive and talented director, Matt Barnes.
I’d been hired to play a senior citizen buying condoms at a 24-hour convenience store. I took the small assignment because – frankly – the script was the best short film script I have ever read and I wanted to be involved in what I expect will be an outstanding project.
In a beat-up convenience store in a tiny strip center on Magnolia Avenue in North Hollywood Matt shot me and another character in special flip camera footage intended to be seen on the security monitor in the finished film while trucks of gear were unloaded outside.
Mine was the first scene to be shot with full crew and they took great care and shot plenty of coverage; eight setups and two hand-held sequences.
In the scene, I come into the convenience store to find that no one is behind the counter or visible in the store. Ultimately, a large, insouciant clerk emerges from the backroom and ambles to a seat behind the counter. He tells me that Oscar, the regular clerk, is tied up and he’ll be glad to help me out. I buy a box of condoms from him, pay with a debit card, grab my receipt and walk out. That’s it. My scene.
The director and crew spent seven hours on the sequence. We had a “lunch break” about midnight at an actual pizza restaurant 25 feet away. I napped in my car during setups. I got home at 2:45am.
But, with all that, it was one of the most fulfilling acting experiences I have had in years. During the long night, a make-up woman touched me up between every shot, the director discussed motivation and delivery speed with me, the assistant director fussed over me as if I were actually important and the crew worked quietly and efficiently.
We’re Closed is one project I can hardly wait to see and one I was really glad to have done.
February 14, 2010
Life bursts with interesting but dangerous characters. Since Hollywood is life enlarged, blended and diminished, it’s the same in the film industry. As children, we meet the bully, the brat, and the goody-goody, among others. Later, at work, we tolerate the pretty, popular gossip at the producer’s office simply because she’s - well - pretty and popular. Or we side with the director, the bully, just to win his favor. It’s not that we want to; we have no choice.
However, on the job among the other extras in holding, we professional background actors do have a choice. As an adult with free choice, I refuse to put up with toxic background actors who taint whomever they touch. I realize it could be said I am watering down the rich, party-like atmosphere of the film set (sarcasm intended) but I firmly believe making movies is a skilled mission not just a chance to hang out. To advance my lengthy background acting career, I learned, early on, to avoid nine lethal, toxic personality types:
Nine Toxic Background Actors To Avoid
1. The Queen
The queen is easy to spot.
- I did two days on The Office. She was on Glee three times and the assistant director told her she was “as good as the lead girl.”
- I got a solid ten seconds of face time on Cold Case. She was in three whole scenes and the director thanked her personally for her work.
You get the idea. The Queen delights in making other people feel less important by bragging about her own life, be her boasts true or not. No matter whether you’re talking about a TV episode, boob job or an iPhone app; hers is better. She’s personally afraid of being perceived as small, weak, or insignificant and her power plays give her a feeling of satisfaction and superiority.
Don’t play her game. Just say, “Wow. That’s great!” and walk away.
While working on Men of a Certain Age last fall, I encountered a typical Queen, holding forth to a small gaggle of enthralled newbies, and she tried to drag me into her net with, “The gang at Central Casting has me on speed-dial, I work so much.” To which I replied, “Wow! So YOU’RE the one!”
2. The Gossip
- “She slept with a gaffer thinking that would land her an under five. What a dingbat!”
Sound familiar? It’s The Gossip. She’s hard for some to resist because she tells a good story. However, hanging with The Gossip is a bad idea. Why? Where do you think she gets her story ideas? Okay, maybe gossip is human nature. But on set or in holding, avoid associating with The Gossip at all costs. Film and television casts and crews are tightly knit, deeply emotional groups of professionals who look out for one another. Eventually, the rumors and hateful words will come back to haunt The Gossip and you don’t want to be anywhere near when that happens.
3. The Entertainer
- “How tall is a sound recordist? I don’t know either. I’ve never seen one standing up.”
Follow the bursts of laughter to one corner of extras holding and you’ll find a background actor who wants to be bumped up to stardom so badly he tries to entertain everyone around him in holding. Instead, he’s stealing your attention and - when the extras handler rushes in to find four extras to bump up to the jury - you will miss out because you’re focused on the entertainer. Don’t do it. Pay attention to the man or woman who brought you to the dance; your wrangler.
4. The King
The King is constantly telling you about himself and his accomplishments. Most of his sentences begin with “I” and he stars in every story he tells. His boring conversations are one-sided. He’s usually surrounded by young, pretty, vapid female extras. Remember, this character doesn’t really care about you or your life. He doesn’t need you there. He is self-absorbed. Leave him to spend time with his favorite person; himself.
5. The Drama Queen
- Drama makes for good entertainment but background actors are not hired to entertain each other.
The Drama Queen lives to put on a good show. She makes a big production of absolutely nothing to attract attention. She often offers a certain amount of temporary amusement. However, she is not worth the waste of your time. You’re missing nothing by walking away; she is really only moved by her own affairs.
6. The Expert
- The most common and dangerous toxic person in background holding is The Expert.
The expert is the one who says, at 8:05am, “We’ll be out of here by 5:15pm. Guaranteed.” He’ll notice a few drops of rain and proclaim, “We’ll be getting a water bump.” He’s the first to complain about craft services, or bellyache that the portable toilets are too far away. Guess what? He doesn’t know a goddamned thing. He’s been on a few sets so he thinks he’s been on all sets. Not true. Just walk away. This guy won’t help your career or your experience as a background actor one bit.
7. The Sleeper
Hard to believe this could be true, but some background actors actually sleep on the job. Oh sure, they’re sleeping in holding and claim they can wake up and be alert, talented and on set in a heartbeat, but they are wrong. Background acting is a job. You don’t sleep on the job. Aside from how sleeping screws up your chances for bumps, sleeping in holding show a complete disrespect for the job. I visit Central Casting at least once a month. I have seen the hundreds of aspiring extras who register there EVERY weekday. Ask them. They’d be glad to change places with you and they promise to stay awake! Stay away from this idiot. Stay alert and eager and you will get special treatment. Productions don’t hire people to sleep on their sets; they could get people to do that for free.
8. The Slacker
Some background actors hold our profession in such low regard they simply show up, eat, drink and go home. They spend every moment on a hot set playing with their phones (something directors dislike intently) and give absolutely nothing to the project but their physical presence. I worked an episode of Men of a Certain Age with an ebullient fellow named Marvin Gaye and a slim, bitter Hispanic woman who never did mention her name. Marvin was assigned to be a car sales rep and the woman and I were assigned to be husband and wife. The Latina woman would have nothing to do with either of us when the camera was not rolling and gave absolutely no personality in the scenes, when filmed. She was just there for the paycheck and the craft services. You don’t need an amateur like that in your circle. Distance yourself from the posers.
9. The Fan
- In a three-decade background acting career, I’ve worked with everyone from Amy Adams to Steve Zahn. I held Ben Stiller in my arms when he was 8 months old, discussed I Love Lucy with Carol Burnett for an hour while waiting for a set-up and handed a package to Sharon Stone 14 times in Mexico City. Guess how many autographs I have. That’s right; Zero.
We background actors have a specific job to do. We’re are an important part of the overall production process. We are almost as important as the stars but not more important. We are not there to ask for autographs, score a photo or try to sneak into the star’s shot. We’re all professionals working in a most interesting business.
When you spot a background actor who is too starstruck to do their job, walk the other way.
February 7, 2010
Learn the unspoken rules of Setiquette to succeed as a background actor.
Last Friday, I sat in the front row of a Spanish mission church in San Gabriel, doing my job as a member of a fictional congregation for Eric Arevalo’s film, Faith.
A cold rain fell outside the church necessitating an umbrella for the trek through the church cemetery to visit the stone old, stone cold restrooms. Craft services was a tent with sandwiches and folding chairs. There were a dozen of us background actors, working basically for good karma to support a handsome young USF filmmaker and his team who were striving to make a meaningful film about the wide chasm between the Church and the poor.
Things had been going well except for one irritating pair of newbie extras one seat away from me who had decided a hot set was a cool place to strike up a conversation designed to lead to a romance. Every single moment the camera was not actually rolling, these two were chattering on, totally unaware that the rest of us, professionals all, were silent and waiting for our cue. Twice, their jabbering continued after the director said, “roll camera.”
I couldn’t help it; at a break, I said to the young girl who’d been jabbering, “You know it’s not appropriate to talk on a hot set.” To which she huffed, “I have been an extra for two years and people ALWAYS talk on set. If I couldn’t talk, I wouldn’t be able to stand it.” By way of clarification, I pointed out, “Talking in holding is fine but on set, silence is important.” She stamped her little rain boot and walked away, obviously offended by the old man who been on sets for 40 years.
As we were about to restart, the director thanked me and said, “I had too much on my mind to come over and ask them to shut up.” I said, “They should have known better.”
(Later, the jabbering guy mysteriously vanished and little Miss Jabber was dealt a subtle reprimand in a scene where the director yelled cut just before she reached frame in a walking scene while I was promoted to a full-face closeup with the priest.)
As background actors, we are always being observed and there are some rules, obvious and otherwise, that can effect our future work. Ignore them at your peril. Basically, backgrounder actors would benefit from figuring out how a set runs and who its players are.
The only reason movies and tv shows get made at all is because the set is run by certain rules, most of them widely known, some of them unrecorded. On a set, each department is its own little world. There are different specific jobs, of course, but each has boundaries in the quest to reach the same goal. The best thing to do is sit back, stay out-of-the-way and observe. That’s how you’re going to learn the most. If you’re smart, you learn from every moment you spend on set.
YOU’LL LEARN:
- … that all the different departments, although separate, know what everyone else is doing.
- … not to sit in certain chairs.
- … that charm and a little luck may get you bumped up.
- … to always say “Thank you” if someone is catering to your needs in any way.
- … not to take any of it for granted, because everyone in every department has worked hard to get there and will keep working hard to stay there.
The person you’ll deal with the most is the “extras wrangler,” who may be a production assistant, an assistant director or the person who lost the straw-drawing. They are responsible for you and you are responsible to them. Don’t ever consider anyone on set as beneath you. Many people working on a set aspire to do something else one day, which is why a wise background actor strives treats everyone with respect. That bearded gaffer could be a director by next year. The man pushing equipment around may sell the screenplay he’s been writing for the last five years. The industry is a small world and two-thirds of your jobs come from referrals. Your reputation matters and bad behavior can ruin your career. On set, be humble, helpful, honest and eager. Don’t be a threat to others. Take the work seriously and do your best.
Some universal Setiquette rules:
- Late is a four-letter word. Show up early for the call.
- Be polite to everyone. Use “please” and “thanks.”
- Let people do their job. Don’t bug them or get in their way.
- Be humble, interested in the work, and eager to do it.
- Confused about your assignment? Ask questions immediately.
- Watch what’s going on around you. Pay attention.
- Make your “wrangler” look good; do your job.
- Don’t embarrass anyone. If you are smarter than others, keep it to yourself.
- Listen very carefully before you jump to conclusions.
- Learn and use your “wrangler’s” name.
- Work hard and willingly and do NOT ask “when will we be done?”
“To be the best you can be in movies and television, you need to understand the work environment. Instead of sleeping with a director, actors should consider sleeping with a production assistant. You’ll learn much more about how things work on a set.” - Lary Crews
(Note to readers who have lost their sense of irony: I am kidding. I do not actually recommend sleeping with anyone to get ahead in the business.)
