More tales from the background...
I'm surprised someone hasn't done some type of Curb Your Enthusiasm type show on being an exra (hmmmm...wheels turning...). Not only can it just be grueling and soul sucking (and on occasion fun and interesting) but you just meet the weirdest freakin' people. There are three types of "extras":
1) The actor who is doing it in hopes of getting the coveted Union voucher (three and you're eligible to join SAG) or just picking up some spare cash. These are usually people that you'll strike up conversations with and make some friends with. They make the long hours a little more fun and bearable.
2)People just interested in seeing how movies work or glimpsing a celebrity. I have to say, that if you aspire to be in the film or television industry, being an extra can be very beneficial as you learn how a set runs and who does what. I try to soak up as much of that as possible. It's invaluable. When I did my commercial, I was on the set almost the entire day, talking to the crew, asking questions. I want to know what everyone does and learn about every aspect of film, TV, commercials. Why not? If it's your life's passion and what you want to do, it can only help to learn as much as possible about it.
and finally...
3) The lifers. These are the "professional extras". This is what they do. They love it. As many days a week as possible (there was one union guy who actually went in non union so he could work more - there is more non union extra work, but it pays half as much - but he loves doing it apparantly). Some like the comraderie of the other extras. Some like the free food. And some are just insane. I mean certifiable. I had one old guy scream at me because I was sitting at his table and apparantly there wasn't any room for someone else. Seats were at a minimum. I believe he actually threatened to call the Union Board and report me. For sitting at a table. And it's not like it was a "union vs. non-union" type thing (and they do differentiate, believe me. Different craft services and everything)...I'm union. And I wasn't anywhere where I wasn't supposed to be. I was just trying to eat a piece of chicken and a salad at our 1 AM "lunch break".
Some of the lifers are very nice. Some are not. And some just seem to be about a week shy of some state goverened institution...be it a psychiatric ward or prison.
But it's a club, a clique. Somewhere to belong. And I guess in the overall sense of it, it's not too bad a way to make a buck.
Just don't sit at that dude's table.
More stories from the background coming...
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