On the Set of Brotherhood Again

I've been driving for over forty years, and I can get from A to B without cracking up my car. I drive defensively. And after a couple of stiff speeding tickets for letting the Mercedes do no more than what she was designed to do, I've learned my lesson and keep to a reasonable speed. Still, driving is not anywhere near the top of the list of things I'd call myself any good at.

I failed the driving test the first time I took it, steering so clumsily around a corner that I went up onto the curb. I never did master a standard transmission. Occasionally I have to take a 15-foot truck to Yale or Harvard to pick up books or supplies, but I sweat over backing it up and into tight places. My grandmother didn't drive, my mother didn't drive, and my daughter doesn't drive. Maybe it just doesn't run in the family.

The great thing about background extra work is getting to pretend you're something you're not. For most of the people I work with in films, that means getting dolled up and casually exiting a limo, eating in a high-end restaurant or club, dancing at an over-the-top wedding reception. Not me. Been there, done that.

Being a bus driver, on the other hand...!!!! That's something I can take real vicarious pleasure in. Slouching casually back from the dusty lot towards the depot with a fellow driver, shoulders a little slumped after a hard day of piloting that yellow behemoth up hills and around cul-de-sacs....for me, that took some acting.

Getting Paid Not To Eat

Yesterday I was in a movie...and today I was in a TV show: another episode of "Brotherhood," the Showtime series. I was staying at friend M's lake house, because it was closer to the movie set in Providence, when I got the call to go in for "Brotherhood." The good news was, they wanted both of us. The bad news was, I didn't have the right wardrobe for the shoot.

"Brotherhood" is about (fictitious) politics and organized crime in Providence, so many of the scenes are set in expensive bars and restaurants. We were told to dress for an upscale lunch: suits preferably. Unfortunately, all I had were wardrobe choices from 1986, brought along for the wedding scene in "27 Dresses." Two deep teal outfits with big shoulders, a flowing scarlet chiffon number, and a spangly silver top with black silk pants. Fortunately, M had closets full of stuff and was willing to share.

I chose an olive green jacket and a lavender shell. Wardrobe was very satisfied with the outfit. Olive green is the color of choice for the background extra. White is the big no-no; it hogs the screen. Black is small doses is okay. Bright colors, big prints, and logos are out. Soft autumn shades look best onscreen and don't detract from the principal talent.

We reported to holding and had a sumptuous breakfast. Craft services was dishing out Belgian waffles, ham steaks, eggs, home fries, and so on; every kind of coffee from Dunkin Donuts in a box to espresso was offered; and a whole room was devoted to a California-style spread: yogurt, granola, muffins, and fresh fruits and vegetables (pineapple, carrots, ginger, oranges) you could juice yourself.

More food on the set, but this stuff, although real, was not for eating. We were seated at tables in the sumptuous Federal Reserve Restaurant, an insanely lavish former bank with coffered ceilings, stained glass windows, and a 60-foot marble bar. Tantalizing courses were set before us, some artfully arranged as if in mid-meal. Half-full glasses of wine, petits four with bites taken out, rolls broken in half with crumbs on the plate. My dining partner and I got beautifully presented mesclun salads and brimming Cokes.

Take after take, we brought forks to our mouths and put them down again, pretended to chew, pretended to sip our Cokes, pantomimed conversation and gestures. Halfway through each take, a "waiter" strolled over to our table and inquired--in pantomome--if everything was all right. Take after take, I gave him a thumbs-up and an airy wave.

Talk about feeling stupid! But the surroundings were gorgeous, we were getting paid, and we had a catered three-course meal waiting for us back in holding. Not a bad job.

Brotherhood

Today I worked as an extra on the Showtime series Brotherhood. The show films in and around Providence. Call time was 7:30 a.m. so I spent the night at M's lake house, which is much closer to Providence than either of our houses. She had a part as well, so we drove in together.

I was told I'd be in two scenes. I needed upscale business clothes for a scene on a train, and jeans for a picnic scene. I brought along a camel tweed jacket, a light brown glen plaid jacket, a beige silk blouse, two skirts, jeans, two longsleeved cotton shirts, a tank top, sneakers, loafers, and heels. Wardrobe likes to have choices.

We arrived in good time. I put on the jeans, tank top, and a checked blouse with the sneakers (the most comfortable option). Wardrobe was fine with it. We had plenty of time for breakfast and sitting around before the call. The craft services meal trailer is supposed to be for crew and union actors only, but nobody was checking. They provide everything from Belgian waffles to ham steaks, whereas non-union flunkies have to settle for cold cereal, fruit yogurt and doughnuts. I'm happy with either setup, as long as I can get coffee.

We were bussed to the green in front of the Statehouse. The action was in one of the highrise buildings bordering the green, so that's where the cameras were. In some shots, the principal talent was near the windows, and we comprised the view. Some extras were "picknickers," sitting on the grass, but not me. I and most of the others were given trajectories, and had to amble along between "background action!" and "cut!" We did this over and over until just before rain threatened, whereupon we were hustled into the bus. If a member of the Screen Actor's Guild gets wet during filming, he has to be given extra "wet pay." Production doesn't like that.

So it was back to holding. The train scene never materialized. As we lined up to check out, the Assistant Director called for ten more people for a scene. The casting assistant picked SAG actors, who hurriedly rushed to change into suits as instructed. No sooner were they ready than the word came: scene's off. Everybody go home. The actors ran back off to dress down again.

Glamorous and exciting? Not. Mindnumbingly boring for most. But massively interesting to an actor who's really a writer. More fodder for the book.

Luck Be a Lady

It's official! The "Untitled Blackjack Picture" finally has a name.

The movie's based on Ben Mezrich's book Bringing Down the House, but a movie with that name already existed. The producers were going to call the movie "21," but then legal problems surfaced, and the project became the "Untitled Blackjack Picture, formerly known as '21.'" At one point, the filmmakers were encouraging Boston Globe readers to think up a new name.

Legal hurdles have apparently been cleared, and the movie is now officially "21." Boston was still basking in the glow of "The Departed" when Kevin Spacey and company arrived to film "21." Now the Hollywood crew is gone, the movie's not coming out till next year, and wannabe actors in the area are concentrating on the next movie to be made locally: "27 Dresses."

According to Variety: "'Grey's Anatomy' star Katherine Heigl will play a single woman who has served as a bridesmaid 27 times. She is enlisted once again for the job, and this time it's particularly painful: Her sister is marrying the man the bridesmaid is madly in love with."

Filming on this one begins in Providence in May. Apparently lots of extras will be needed for the wedding scenes. M's got a summer home not too far from where the set will be. The casting director's got our resumes and headshots. Now the best we can do is pray. Luck, be a lady tonight!