Quirky little shoots

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.

We’re Closed and I’m Open

It is an extraordinary experience to work with an experienced crew, the best gear and a sensitive and talented director.

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I had that experience very late on a Sunday night in December 2009 while working on a short scene for the independent drama, We’re Closed, in a Magnolia Boulevard convenience store in North Hollywood.

It had been a busy weekend. Saturday morning and Sunday afternoon I was on location in Silver Lake shooting a scene for the music video of the same name by up-and-coming group Salvae in which I played a street drummer like the ones I did in Godzilla and The Taking of Pelham 1 2 3.
I got to the location - a beat-up convenience store in a tiny strip center on Magnolia Avenue in North Hollywood - about 7pm. I changed from my hip drummer outfit into my old man costume in the crappy restroom which bore a sign reading, “Out of Order.”
Soon, the troops arrived. Crew members began unloading lights and camera gear while young director Matt Barnes directed me and one other character in special footage shot specifically to be seen on the security monitor in the finished film.
Mine was the first scene to be shot with the full crew and - although it was brief with only a few lines of dialogue - they took great care and shot plenty of coverage.

In the scene, I come into the convenience store and discover no one behind the counter or visible in the store. Finally, a large, insouciant clerk emerges from the backroom and ambles to a seat behind the counter. Perturbed and impatient, I ask him where Oscar, the regular clerk, is and he remarks that Oscar 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.

I took the small assignment because - frankly - the script was the best short film script I have ever read and I want to be involved in what I expect will be an outstanding project.

• The large camera was set up in the front corner of the store and we did the scene four times.
• The camera was moved to another location and we did the scene six times.
• The camera was released from the tripod and mounted on a handheld shoulder harness and we did the scene another three times while the camera tracked a man entering the store behind me.
• Still hand-held, the camera shot my point of view watching the clerk amble out from the back of the store.
• Then, it shot his point of view of the walk down the aisle.
• The cameraman shot the scene over my shoulder several times and concluded by shooting my closeups from behind the clerk.

It took seven hours. We had a “lunch break” about midnight at a pizza restaurant 25 feet away.
I napped in my car during setups.

I got home at 2:45am to find my frantic wife worried sick since her cell phone had failed that night and she had no idea it would take so long.

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 shots, the director discussed motivation and delivery speed with me, the assistant director fussed over me as if I were someone and the crew worked quietly and efficiently. This is one project I can hardly wait to see.

Heroes and Hayden

Working on NBC’s HEROES in June 2009 was the kind of experience I love. First of all, it was a big shoot. I mean a BIG SHOOT. About 250 extras on the UCLA campus and 240 of them were portraying students. Along with nine others my age or older, I played a college professor, specifically Dr. Carl Griffin, English teacher and drama coach.
(I knew it would be a fantastic day earlier when I was motoring across town on Sunset Boulevard while listening to SUNSET BOULEVARD (the musical starring Glenn Close, on the CD player.)
On campus, we parked in a huge parking garage, were vanned over to base camp and fed breakfast. The holding tent was almost “The Greatest Show On Earth” size. Our chief handler was a tall, Rastafarian-haired guy named Moose who was assisted by a compact Hispanic woman named Max. They walked us over to the beautiful mall between Royce Hall and the Powell Library.

For the next half-hour, Moose, Max and several PAs “placed” 250 background actors. 
• There were four guys assigned to toss a football back and forth.
• One young man was placed on the ground with a guitar and a pretty young girl to serenade.
• Several other guys were playing with a Frisbee.
• Here, a pair of girls sitting on the grass, talking.
• There, a gaggle of cheerleaders taking snapshots of one another.
• Four guys and one girl were handed boxes (empty, so acting was required) and told to walk to this point and turn and walk to that point.
• A number of kids were handed fake fliers for fake charities which they were told to hand out.
• Several people who’d brought bicycles were given instructions on where and when to ride by.
• Everyone had an assignment in their mission to portray real people doing real things by acting.

For the first scene we shot, I was paired with a nice woman named Ilene who was a few years younger than me. We were both portraying professors. We were assigned to walk down the stairs near the Powell Library. At the bottom of the stairs, we were to glance at the clipboard I was carrying, nod at one another and she was to walk straight toward Royce Hall, passing star Hayden Panettiere on the sidewalk. My job was to turn to the right, where a pretty young Irish girl handed me a flyer about stopping the war, smile at her and take it with me and then walk on down the sidewalk, making sure I was at least five feet behind a blond towing a suitcase on wheels.
We did the scene about ten times but it was an absolutely beautiful day with a cool breeze off the nearby Pacific Ocean so I had no complaints.

One of the funny things about working a scene so large and complicated is the weird things that can ruin a take. Naturally, there were the occasional chimes from the clock tower, a police helicopter whirling overhead or a blown line. But we were also halted by some esoteric things.

• Just as we were about to begin take one, a group of about 25 Thai students with a guide were led directly into the scene. Max conferred with the guide and the group continued down the green and out of sight.
• During Take 3, a man in his 40s with three young girls in tow, walked up to an extra nearby and asked, “What’s going on?”
• Midway through Take 9, a sister in four inch heels and inappropriate-for-daytime dress walked down the stairs texting on her iPhone. Max asked her to step aside and she said, “Kiss my a**?” Moose intervened and the girl vanished.

The tough thing is telling an extra hired to play a student from an actual student. One clue was the fact that real students might have logos or advertising on their clothing or their backpacks. Background actors are not permitted to do so. Also, the real students tend to look a bit aimless while the extras have their assignments.

My second scene on NBC’s HEROES at UCLA, involved tracks and shadows. A dolly is a cart which travels along tracks. The camera is mounted on the dolly. A dolly shot is also known as a tracking shot, which means side-to-side movement. Camera movement parallel to a moving subject permits speed without drawing attention to the camera itself. The tracks were set up at the top of some outdoor stairs. I worked alone this time, walking up the stairs and turning to the left in front of the camera which was tracking right to pick up Hayden Panettiere, who was right behind me. It was pretty simple and we nailed it in four takes.
The third scene was substantially more complicated and interesting. Starting at the beginning of a long outdoor hallway in front of Royce Hall, Ilene (the fellow professor from Scene 1) and I walked the entire length of the hall in conversation, passing students and other teachers along the way. We ended up walking past Hayden Panettiere who is talking to another woman right in front of the camera (as pictured at the far end of the hall on the right).
After each take, when the yelled “Reset!” (which is the real world alternative to “back to one”) the 23 of us who were chosen for this special featured extra sequence walked back to our starting spots. For Ilene and me, that meant the whole length of the hallway. After five takes, Max asked me to stop halfway down the hall, speak to two students, and then continue on. This sequence put me within 12 inches of Hayden Panettiere a half-dozen times.

Funny thing happened on one of those takes. Moose was stationed at the end of the hall behind camera and he would grab selected extras and send them back the other way to make the scene look more crowded. To my amazement, after he turned me around to start back, he turned Hayden around — realized what he had done — and we all laughed out loud. “Sorry,” I told him, “Stars don’t do crosses.”

What? A Character?

Play a character; don’t be merely a piece of scenery.

I’ve played a specific character in nearly all my 40+ background acting assignments. Am I crazy? Perhaps. Am I a professional dedicated to improving the final product; you bet your boots!

Many extras think of themselves as a piece of scenery or as an undiscovered movie star. That’s why, when told to sit in row 9 seat A for the baseball game, they sit there and start chatting with the extra next to them until told by the AD to “quiet down.” When the cameras start to roll, they boo the ump or cheer the team; whatever they were told to do, but they don’t know why they’re doing it. When cameras stop rolling, they revert to what they were before: a minimum-wage place-holder chatting with another drone.
That, my friends, is why many are just filling a hole. They do not respect the task or their own worth.
On a late-September 2009 shoot on The Office, I was appalled to find that many of my fellow background actors didn’t even know what the show was about, had never seen it, were puzzled when I mentioned “Michael Scott” or “Dwight.” If I don’t know the show, I hit Google the minute my calling service hangs up; finding out about the show I’m about to do. It just makes sense if you care about your work.

For the Office shoot, knowing that the show is set in Scranton PA (an area in which I lived for about three years) and knowing the limitations of my skills and appearance, I created Charles “Chaz” Conrad, the owner of Conrad Office Supplies in Wilkes Barre PA. Wilkes Barre is the lesser-known twin city of Scranton. Since Dunder Mifflin is a paper company, it makes sense that I would be someone who buys paper from them. As Chaz Conrad, I struggle daily trying to compete with the “big box” stores like Office Depot, Staples and OfficeMax. I wore a business suit but brought alternatives which included a colorful sweater that looks like something a grandfather would wear. On my trip through the wardrobe gauntlet at the beginning of the first day, the wardrobe woman asked me to wear the sweater instead of the suit coat, as I suspected she would, because she obviously saw my character the way I saw him.

Here’s how this applies to the work at hand:

When the camera caught me standing up to cheer, or being pushed aside by a self-important Dwight Schrute or walking across the lobby of a world-class hotel, it caught a 60-year old owner of an office supply store and not just “an extra in a sweater.”

Creating a character is a foundational part of being a professional background actor. Do the “extra” work to be a character and not a drone and your career will improve.

Do It The First Time, Again

Background actors need to use a delicate blend of preparation and spontaneity, just like actors.

One of the skills I used while making a short film by a talented Chapman University student (Breanna Wing) called The Visitor last year in Santa Ana was making lines that we had rehearsed, shot several times and even altered seem to be spontaneous. It was also my job to make movements created in blocking look like they were inevitable. Those are common skills for film actors who must APPEAR to be thinking and speaking on the spot, for the first time. Only in spontaneity can we be who we truly are. All growth is a leap in the dark, a spontaneous, unpremeditated act without benefit of experience.

There’s a lesson therein for background actors.

In the classes I teach for beginning background actors, I stress the importance of motivating your movement and understanding your place in the scene while making it look absolutely spontaneous and “in the moment,” ten or twenty times in a row. Probably most extras never consider this level of involvement and, sadly, it shows in their performance. The reason we’re called background actors and not background furniture is that we are supposed to portray real people who are doing real things in a real setting in order to make the cohesive whole seem - ready for it? - REAL.

In order to appear real, background actors need to do some serious thinking about what they are doing.

For example, I spent eight hours one day in summer 2009 shooting an episode of the FX drama, Sons of Anarchy. The Ron Perlman/Katey Segal motorcycle club series is a hot show (check it out) with a professional cast and crew who - on the day I joined them - were cranking out one setup after another. My job in one scene in particular was to walk up the street and cross another. Simple, huh? But, in order to appear to be an actual guy in an actual town, I made some decisions before we started the first take.

I was costumed in what wardrobe calls a “Texas Tuxedo;” denim jeans, denim jacket and brown Rockport shoes. A hasty conversation with the young woman who started from the same liquor store as me and walked the other direction created a “moment” and motivation that served to make our walks seem spontaneous and real. When they called “background,” we walked out the door, paused for a beat while she kissed my cheek and we bid one another farewell, and I started my walk. While walking, I thought about the date we were going to have at the end of the week, smiled to myself at the scent of her perfume on my cheek and headed up the street to my job at the hardware store.

Was any of this in the script? Of course not. Was any of this evident to a casual viewer of the episode? Nope. Did the director even notice? Not on your life. What it did was give me the motivation to make that walk 18 times in the next hour and make every time look like it was happening for the first time. That’s my job.

Michael Caine: “The greatest advice I can give to someone who wants to act in film is to listen and react. Movie acting is a delicate blend of careful preparation and spontaneity.”

There is, of course, the danger of over preparation, of loss of spontaneity; over rehearsal is the most terrible thing you can imagine. Frankly, most background actors don’t even consider spontaneity. They just show up and cross in the back or speak silently at the restaurant table without regard for whether their background acting looks spontaneous or not.

Probably the prime example of a lack of spontaneity is the young boy background actor in the Alfred Hitchcock masterpiece North By Northwest who stuck his fingers in his ears BEFORE a shot rang out.

During the scene at the Mount Rushmore visitor center - when Eva Marie Saint is just about to shoot Cary Grant - a little boy in the background sticks his fingers in his ears because he knows the blanks that are about to be fired are going to be loud. How did he know? Obviously there were several takes before the final “shot” was right.

Another special aspect of creating a spontaneous background performance on camera is what Wing Chun fighters call “economy of movement,” taking the straightest possible path to the target. In other words, don’t make a move unless it is inevitable from what is going on in the scene. Improperly motivated movement is anathema to good film acting. You’ve all seen them in the background: those lackluster extras who walk six steps to the right and then turn because that’s what the director asked them to do. Obviously, you should do what the director asks you to do but there’s no reason you cannot furnish your own motivation for doing it. No body gives a shit why you do it, except you. SO do it well.

“Our spontaneous action is always the best. You cannot, with your best deliberation and heed, come so close to any question as your spontaneous glance shall bring you.” Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803-1882) U.S. poet, essayist and lecturer.

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