I am coming to a television near you.
I have been out in Los Angeles for almost two years now, but it wasn’t until three months ago that I actually got myself over to Central Casting where they do most of the background casting in the city. Normally, you can call in to their service to see if they are looking for someone of your type for various roles, like people in a restaurant scene at the other tables, or angry protest mob. Things like that. Sometimes, they call you specifically for work on a show, if the show is looking for a certain type. This happens maybe 5% of the time.
Thursday I got called in for the show “The Wizards of Waverly Place” on the Disney Channel. Essentially, it’s about a sister and her two brothers who live in New York and work at a sandwich shop. They can do magic, which leads to all sorts of comedic hijinks that typically end with every learning a very important lesson while they all hug around a couch. It’s one of their biggest shows.
The episode I am in is part of Season Two, and it’s called “Taxi Dance”. The episode involves a taxi dispatch center, where they were trying to cast actors in a sort-of Taxi homage. So naturally they called on yours truly to play the Danny Devito guy.
I have never done extra work of any kind, so I didn’t know what to do. I went to the studio, where I walked over to the set. A television studio set has all the different scene backgrounds scattered around in a tight area. On television, it looks like a giant street scene, but it’s actually facing one of the other sets.
I got there early and waited up in a set of bleachers where all the other background actors were supposed to meet. No one showed up, so I got nervous that I was totally in the wrong spot. Some of the show actors were there, but I didn’t want to ask them questions, lest I look like a dumbass. So I waited patiently in the bleachers for a couple hours, until they came and got me. They needed me for the run through, where a bunch of the crew acted as stand-ins. I got freaked out, because it was an AFTRA show, and I’m not part of any union. But by the power of Greyskull and potentially Xena, everything was fine.
The actors on the show were very nice. The young girl who’s kind of the star of the show is the Disney Channel’s Break In Case of Glass in case Miley Cyrus pops out a baby or gets addicted to black tar heroin. Her name is Selena Gomez, and she played Hannah Montana’s arch rival. It’s a kid’s show, but she’s got pretty damn good timing and delivery. David DeLuise plays the father, and the dude has a huge laugh.
The run through was a pretty mellow event. In my scene, most of the scene takes place with Uncle Al, who was played by an actor named John, who usually plays fat Italian cops. The dude’s been in everything. He was incredibly nice, and most of the scene is played to me in the crowd scene.
The kicker was that I got to play in another scene where I’m asleep on a couch. They slam a car door, and I roll over. Allegedly, I fart. I say allegedly, because they performed the scene a few times with a fart sound, and without a fart sound. They did the scene for the network executives. With a fart and without. I’ve never realized how much work went into deciding whether or not to do a fart take. I’m personally pro-fart, mostly because I want to end my actor’s reel with the fart. It was actually fascinating, because they made all kinds of adjustments I never noticed before. One of the actors said, ‘God!” during a rehearsal as they stormed off stage, and they said, “Hey, dude. It’s Disney! No, no.” They are riding in a talking cab (voiced by Sam Simon — Frances McDormand’s litigious neck-brace wearing husband in Raising Arizona, among many other things) and they made sure that they were wearing seatbelts. It was insane.
Friday was the run through and it went really smooth. I kept my mouth shut, paid attention, and always hit my mark. I learned the glory of craft services. They had a huge table full of donuts and bagels, and a mini-breakfast buffet with eggs benedict and pancakes. It’s all free! Lunch was even more wonderful, because I got to go and eat with the actors and crew. Which was neat. I got to talk about the theatre troupe I was in and Philadelphia. No matter where I am in LA, it takes about four sentences for people to ask me questions about Philly.
Most extra work pays minimum wage to non-union actors. But I got the AFTRA rates. Which means I get a flat rate for a full 8 hours, whether we work all 8 or not. Which isn’t bad for most of the day spent sitting in the stands and reading a book. The only downside was they wanted me to shave my beard. I don’t look good without a beard. I look like a fat fourteen year old. My age drops twenty years and my weight ups like 50 pounds. It’s truly disasterous. Plus, until I grew my beard back, my headshots would be totally useless, because I wouldn’t look ANYTHING like my photo. The director said, we can give you a little extra money if you shave, we’ll make sure. So my beard offically got a monetary value, and after a glorious weekend, I bid adieu to my beard an shaved to a pair of badass mutton chops this morning, ala Louie DePalma.
This morning, I went to the set, with a bag full of clothes. They wanted me to look like a New York Cabbie. Layers and jeans, that was the idea. I thought I’d be in the white shirt and tie like Devito. But no, after a quick session with the wardrobe folks, it turns out that my normal attire is pretty much that of a cabbie. I actually wore the clothes I came to set in. No glasses and no beard, the cast was laughing. Selena Gomez was sweet. John was a big old bubbly ball of glee. Laughing and smiling. Neither of us had glasses on, so were were blind bastards.
There were tons of other extras today. I was really proud, because most these dudes were bitching about wardrobe and agents, and how they had to get contact to get these parts. Right out of the gate, and I was the leader of the cabbies. They just decided to go off my cues, because I was giving off an air of professionalism. Also, I knew the cues. They kept talking that I should have gone for an Under 5 deal, or pushed for more money because of how much I had to do. I was handling most of the props in the scene, and I was really integral to the scene. It was why I was getting most of the camera time.
But that’s not who I am. I’m just fucking stoked to be getting money to be acting. It’s more important to me to just show up, work fucking hard, and do what I’m supposed to. I don’t need to scrape as much cash from them as possible. I was already giggling because they gave us each $10 for bringing our own clothing for the costumes.
What was really awesome was, during the shoot, John kept asking the director what my character’s name was, so he could call me by it. They told him not to worry. He shrug, and turned to me and said, “Sorry, Bri, I was trying to get you a name. I think they give you more money if you have a named character.” I laughed.
Later, the writer’s rewrote a line and added a line, where he pointed over his shoulder, and said the backseat of the cab was going to “Tiny’s” apartment. The camera zoomed on me and I had to give him a “What?” shrug. (I’m not allowed to talk. If it was a talking part, if I actually got to say “What?” on camera, I would get five times the salary, maybe more. Hooray for Hollywood.) The writers’ thought I was so funny, they added a line to acknowledge me. Unfortunately, it wasn’t working in the scene, so they cut it. No name, no scene. But, the fact that I was so damn professional that the other actors were willing to follow me, that the seasoned professional was trying to get me a bigger part, and that the writer’s were digging writing for me, that speaks more to me than anything else.
The Extra herder thanked me at the end of the day, and he said he will try damn hard to use me again, because he really liked how hard I worked. I was pretty fucking psyched. It was fun, and I am definitely going to be on screen. If you watch the show, which is like episode 7 of Season Two, I’m there. Beard-free, squirmy and all, but baby, I’m on TV.
Small steps to take over the world, people. It’s just the start.
