Tired of Being Sorry, Indeed: The Affleck incident!

A friend of mine is coordinating for the new Motley Crüe music video and put out a bulletin on myspace earlier this week looking for “Crüe type girls, but please no Cougars”. Oh Nikki Sixx, you’re like 70, aren’t you? I feel like cougars are even still half your age. It made me want to hop back on a music video though, it’s been a while since I’ve spent an entire day listening to the same song on repeat. Wrangling groupie extras shoved into too-tight black leather is not the worst way to make a living, right? At the very least it will do wonders for one’s self esteem.

The first music video I ever PA’ed on was for Ringside, “Tired of Being Sorry”. I’m not a big fan of the band, but the video itself was pretty fun. Basically it’s a couple fighting each other in a boxing ring, taking shots at each other throughout the song. Oh, and Joaquin Phoenix was directing?

Apparently Ringside is one of those “Hollywood” bands that schmooze with celebs more than practice their own songs. But whatever, because they got Phoenix to direct, and Christian Slater, Michelle Trachtenburg and Casey Affleck all made cameos. My job on the video was basically to get releases signed by everyone that was going to be on camera, celebrity and extras alike. Sounds easy enough, right?

What I didn’t mention was that there were probably 200 extras there, and they were all unpaid… so basically they were one of three things: HUGE Ringside fans, HUGE Joaquin Phoenix fans, HUGE crazies.

I met a biker gang from Reno, NV to give their script to Joaquin Phoenix because they just KNEW he could play their leader. There were ex-girlfriends of the band there who wanted to make the video experience awkward to spite them, but judging by the band’s reaction, weren’t really ex-girlfriends but girls with whom they had relations once upon a time… and probably would again. I met a blue-haired grandmother in spandex who convinced herself that if she got front and center for the crowd shots of this video, she’d finally get her big break. I had to call security on a crazed fan wearing a River Phoenix t shirt who wouldn’t change because she thought wearing a reminder of the director’s dead brother was a good idea… awkward.

The hardest release to get though, was Casey Affleck’s. He was standing around with Christian Slater, who, by the way, had no problem signing his, even addressing me by name and saying thanks. But when I asked Casey to sign, he told me dismissively to send it to his agent, then turned his back to me. Keeping my cool, I told him that we couldn’t shoot his scene until I had his release; it was the production’s rule. He spun around, rolled his eyes and grabbed the clipboard out of my hands, autographing the signature line like I was an obnoxious fan and not someone working with him on the video. Then he pushed it back into my hands and turned back around.

Knowing he was “talent” (the quotes are there for a reason), I bit my tongue and turned in my releases… I decided to be the bigger person and not smash his arrogant asshole face onto the boxing ring. It wouldn’t have been a fair fight, whiny girls never are.

But I would like to take the opportunity now to apologize. I am sorry I do not have a successful, talented older brother with coattails to ride all the way to mediocrity. I am sorry I did not have a director’s chair with my name on the back of it, therefore making me a real person. I am sorry I was a PA doing her job. And I am sorry I didn’t kick you right in your vagina, you little bitch.

Oh, and I’m sorry you didn’t win an Oscar this year.

… Just kidding, I did a victory dance and laughed for a good minute.

Craiglist Ads Make Brandie Mad!

Every once in a while, a job streak will dry up and I have to put out an email looking for whatever my next gig is going to be. While waiting for responses, I tend to also troll mandy.com, entertainmentcareers.net, realitystaff.com… and craigslist.

Ah, craigslist… my simultaneously favorite/least favorite site on the internet. It’s fantastic, you can find shady jobs which are most likely porn on the same website that you can read the rants and raves of the elite, well spoken members of our society… such as pers-615546700@craigslist.org, who decided they needed to post that “I may not be famous, but I run in a crowd of famous people. And that makes me important than you.” Not MORE important, mind you… just important than you.

I never fully expect to find anything good on craigslist, but once in a while you’ll get a bite. I booked a pilot for Starz! Network off of craigslist, and I know a few people that have gotten some other fun gigs. There definitely are those shady “valley” jobs though… every once in a while I think about it, but I just feel like picking up lunch for a porn set is a line I’m just not ready to cross yet… call me old fashioned.

Craigslist is great though, because you can kill time by reading all the other ridiculous stuff on it while you’re waiting for people to write you back, hiring you for a week, or spamming your inbox with pictures of their genitalia. I like to find fun things to do on my non-work days… one of my favorite time killers is doing paid audience work on shows. Take a book, your ipod, hang out in line and eavesdrop/people-watch tourists, then make $40 for two hours of fake laughing and clapping. I love it!

The only reason I don’t do it more is because TV taping puts me in direct contact with the bane of my existence: The Warm Up Comic. My eye is twitching just typing the phrase. I have never met a warm up comic that I didn’t hate with every ounce of my being. I think it comes from working on shows and having to listen to the same lame jokes multiple tapings a day and realizing that not only is this dude getting paid to be a robot, but an unfunny robot at that. Here’s some advice: never go see Craig Ferguson, his warmup guy made me want to slit my wrists… horizontally, so it would hurt longer, thereby distracting me from the shameless pandering I would otherwise be forced to endure.

You only get that kind of stuff in LA though, because really, whose taping a show in Kentucky? Outside of most major cities, the pickings are pretty slim, job-wise. In fact, let’s take a tour of craigslist film jobs in random, small towns across America:

Montgomery, AL:
“Jurian Isa****’s upcoming fantasy film, “Carousel No.9″ is based around a writer battling writer’s block to meet a deadline. The positions will be unpaid, however participants will receive a copy of the DVD.”

Boise, ID:
“I am trying to put together a small low budget film. This is a volunteer gig and the rewarding part should be the hopeful notice from a big independent film company such as Sundance etc. I can’t guarantee anything and please do not hold me to it, however, I have a great script that is self wrote. It is a movie about a person’s life and the things they deal with or go through, just through their 2eyes etc. It is a very self-expressive movie where many teens, young adults and almost anybody can relate to!”

Grand Forks, ND:
“Looking for a person to shoot for a day on April 5th for a curling competition.”

So. Lesson for this week? Move to Los Angeles… just… just do it… or else you’ll be taping curling competitions pro bono for the rest of your life. But who knows, maybe that footage will somehow get bought by a “big independent film company”… like… Sundance?

… I have to stop now, I’m getting a headache.

Film School: Is That $120,000 Worth It?

You remember that Colin Hanks movie, “Orange County”, where his guidance counselor screws him out of the supposed college of his dreams?  I feel like someone was watching and writing about me that year, because that’s kind of how the end of my high school days went down… except I didn’t get to have a heart to heart with Kevin Kline, and my dad looks nothing like John Lithgow, more like Kenny Rodgers (love you Pops).

Senior year of high school, I could not WAIT to find out which film school I would be gracing with my comedic genius.  NYU.  UCLA.  USC.  The Ivy League of film schools, I applied to them all and waited with baited breath for their full ride scholarships to come pouring in… until I found out my guidance counselor hadn’t sent out my SAT’s…  the one thing she was supposed to do for me in 4 years, she dropped the ball.  And people say majoring in Film is useless.

Scrambling, I got them out, but was wait-listed at most and rejected from others.  Ithaca accepted me into the college, but not into their film school…  figure that one out.  I ended up going with Drexel University in Philadelphia…  you probably haven’t heard of its film program, but I doubt I would be writing this blog or have half the successes I’ve had if it wasn’t for my years spent battling bums in West Philly.

Don’t worry, this isn’t going to turn into a puff piece for Drexel…  unless they decided to erase my student loans, then I’ll sing their praises from every rooftop I can find.  The truth is, I don’t believe that you have to go to film school to succeed out here.  Plenty of my bosses have been high school dropouts, recovering addicts and/or idiots.  They’ve just been hungry for what they want and have gone after it stubbornly and without distraction (except for, you know, the drugs).

BUT, at Drexel I had two key experiences that helped me a lot in my professional life:

1.    From the first day of class, I had a camera in my hand.  That beats the hell out of other schools, where you spend two years masturbating to Hitchcock movies, then finally get cameras in your Junior year…  at that point you’re screwed if you decide this isn’t what you want to do.  At Drexel, I made my OWN mistakes and triumphs from day one.  Working on your peers’ film sets really made the transition into the professional world a smooth one.  I remember the Senior Film Show my freshman year, I had worked on a handful of the projects and was so excited to see my name in credits for the first time.  At the very least, four years of free equipment pays for itself.

2.    A 6 month co-op in Los Angeles.  Basically, at Drexel, you get 6 months off to intern anywhere that will hire you.  I moved to Los Angeles and interned with Ghost House Pictures (Evil Dead movies) and Anonymous Content (Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Babel).  I did coverage, wrangled extras for music videos and was a seat-filler for the Pam Anderson Roast (Lewis Black kissed me, that was awkward).  Then I flew back to Philly, reinvigorated and ready to kick my senior project’s ASS.  Knowing that, no matter what, after 6 months, I would be going home, really made working in LA with a safety net a much better experience than I think just blindly moving out here would have been.

Let you in on a secret…  when I first moved to LA, I HATED this place.  I was always lost, stuck in traffic and missed my family and friends.  It took me a few months to get used to it…  but because of Drexel those months were spent with 5 other film majors who moved out to try their luck as well.  It’s scary to pick up and move cross country, but knowing you’re not doing it alone made all of us feel a little better.

Film is a collaborative medium, and Drexel always encouraged that spirit in us.  Do you need to have film school?  Nope.  Does it help?  Hell yes.

Nonfat Grande Cliché? Okay!

It’s the cliché of all industry clichés. Rumors of it are whispered in dark hallways of film school, and woe are you if you move to Hollywood and make your way on to a set, only to hear the dreaded words:

“Can we get a coffee run?”

NOOOOOOOO! I SPENT $120,000 ON FILM SCHOOL TO SLING STARBUCKS FOR PEOPLE WHO REFUSE TO EVEN ACKNOWLEDGE MY NAME?! Oh my God, right about now Business School is looking better and better… I should have listened to my parents and been an accountant.

Except not, because I’m on a film set watching entertainment get made… I am one of a special few that get to see the magic happen, LIVE! And that is something that I will gladly fetch a cappuccino for.

I think it’s bullshit that it’s viewed as such a degrading thing to do… what’s the matter with taking pride in making someone whose working hard’s day a little bit easier? A cup of coffee is a small way of being told that you matter, and it’s a tiny thank you for your long hours on set or in the office. The best Production Assistants that I’ve worked with are the people that are just naturally helpful and want to make things easier for others around them, just because it’s the nice thing to do. Nice can really go a long way in this business too, because a lot of people just aren’t.

For a lot of talent, their days are spent surrounded on set by handlers, managers, entourage, producers, make up and hair people, etc… I remember Sara Blakely (a judge on American Inventor/creator of Spanx pantyhose) apologizing to me for her intricate Starbucks order (Grande Nonfat Chai Latte, extra water, extra hot), saying that getting her tea just right felt like about the only thing she had control of on set. It’s interesting to me that the people you might think have the most control can sometimes have the least.

The worst part is, I didn’t just work with her last week or anything, but last YEAR. Somehow, I still remember her order… And THAT is how important a person’s beverage of choice can be.

I remember sitting in the bleachers watching rehearsals for Thank God You’re Here, and one of the show creators came over and sat down. He looked exhausted, but he smiled at me.

I grabbed a water bottle sitting next to me that I had been carrying around for anyone that needed it and handed it over… not to be a suck up or get ahead, but just to be nice. It was room temperature, just the way I had learned he liked it.

“What’s your name again?”
“Brandie.”
“Awesome Brandie, thanks.”

I was the only PA on set he knew by name. I got my next 2 jobs after Thank God You’re Here because “an exec” recommended me. I ran into him about a month ago at the grocery store and he STILL knew my name.

Kindness pays, I’m just saying.

Oscar Rant #57: The Jack-Nicholson-Cam

Since everyone else seems to be doing an Oscars post, I feel like I should too.  Personally, I am DEVISTATED…  Norbit was robbed, man.  ROBBED!  The Oscars are a sham!  Give me the non-political, respectable, based-solely-on-performance Golden Globes any day.  Oh well.

Only one thing saves the Oscars for me: Jack-Nicholson-Cam.  Have you SEEN him at the Oscars?!  Front and center, dressed to the nines, sunglasses indoors, eyebrows up and that million dollar grin shining from ear to ear like he doesn’t have a care in the world…  that or he’s on Vicodin horse pills.  He’s just so giddy, it delights me.  I’m straight edge, but if I were a drinker, my Oscars drinking game would be to drink every time Jack Nicholson comes on screen, because they cut to him every 30 seconds.  Old Hollywood at its finest, I love him.

Anyway, I had a great time being a pretentious film kid and trash talking the winners and losers, but right in the middle of the Best Adapted Screenplay category (NO COUNTRY FOR OLD MEN, WOOOO!), I got a phone call from a number I didn’t know.  Being a Production Assistant, you always answer unknown numbers, because you never know if it’s a job coming through or not.  I begrudgingly answered, even though the Coens were onstage accepting…  who in the business is calling me right now?!  Why aren’t you nerding out over the guys who brought us The Hudsucker Proxy and Fargo?!  This business demands so much of your energy, time and life, why do it if it isn’t something that you love with every bone in your being?  This particular 818 number, was from the Deal Or No Deal prop department.

Now, I’ve mentioned it before, but working for Deal Or No Deal was, by far, the worst show I have ever worked on.  I was the hair/make-up PA for a few weeks, and it was awful.  18 hour days spent catering to 30 uber-vain models comparing fake boobs whilst holding briefcases in mini dresses is NOT why I moved to Hollywood…  I can respect it as a game show I guess, but everyone who worked on it was so fucking miserable, I couldn’t stand it.

My final straw was at the season’s wrap party, which took place on the stage after taping 3 episodes…  When you’ve been up since 6am and have been on your feet all day, the last thing you want to do is be ordered to pull trash at the wrap party…  especially when that’s not even your job, because you already cleaned up the hair and make up room.  But no, I was told that if I wanted to stay at the wrap party, I had to pull trash, and if I left before I was released, then I wouldn’t be asked back next season.

Now, I’ve always run my own sets (I do, after all, aspire to more than just cleaning Howie Mandel’s eyeliner brushes) in a democratic, you-are-only-as-good-as-your-weakest-link kind of way, so I have a big problem with being spoken to like I don’t matter.  Because really, I do.  Studios are so cheap, why would they pay me if I didn’t?  My Daddy didn’t raise a girl who gets walked on.

Long story short, I left, never expecting a phone call from them again, and being perfectly ok with that.  Fast forward to the Oscars, and a phone call.

“Hi, is this Brandie?  We need a PA next week for the prop department at Deal Or No Deal…  Apparently you used to work in the make up department here?”
“Yes”
“So, are you free?”

I couldn’t resist.

“No Deal, man.  I’m already booked.”
“Alright, thanks.”

Click.

Moral of this story:  Don’t let them disrespect you, stick to your guns.  They will always call you back.  And if they don’t, then you don’t want to work for them anyway.