This wasn’t what I was intending to post this week. I had something else all ready to go and was going to kick back and enjoy a relaxing weekend. But then something happened. I saw United 93. And now I sit here typing away ignoring the fact that I already had something perfectly fine typed and ready to go. Because now things have changed. Now I actually have something to say. And that something is this - Go see United 93. Well actually it’s a little more complicated than that. What I have to say I mean. Not the seeing of the movie. That remains quite easy. Just go to your nearest theater ask for a ticket. And then sit down and say goodbye for a few hours to your cynical complacent self-involved life. Because United 93 will take you away from your every day life and back to the core of what it means to be human, of what it means to be alive in our world today, and to the day when both of those changed forever in some way.
Now I know what you’re thinking - we need more 9/11 commentary like we need another Nick Lachey album. And I agree with you. But…what I was struck by while watching United 93 is how now all of the commentary focuses on the aftermath of 9/11 and what it all means instead of dealing with the actual day itself. Its almost impossible to fathom nowadays that September 11th used to just be a normal day on the calendar, no more or less important than any other and with no weight or significance to it whatsoever. When the people went to bed on September 10th 2001 they didn’t think, “Wow tomorrow is September 11th”. When they woke up that morning and started on their way to work it seemed just like every other morning. But then two planes hit the twin towers and one hit the Pentagon (amazing how we all forget this fact) and the world was forever changed. Changed in ways we could have never predicted or imagined. In the hours, upon days, upon years of coverage and analysis and commentary and debate that have followed 9/11 we seem to have only proven how unknowable human nature and the nature of tragedy are. I remember people at the time saying in all seriousness that Americans would never be able to fully laugh again. I remember great predictions of a new age of national togetherness, bipartisanship, and patriotism. Now five years later we all hate each other, but damn it if we don’t love to laugh about it. We swore we would catch those responsible for the attacks, but now we’re in war with Iraq that may never end and Osama Bin Laden is STILL on the loose. George Bush’s approval rating soared to 90%, but now he’s being openly considered one of the worst presidents in U.S. history. There was an unprecedented outpouring of global sympathy and support for the U.S., but now we’re one of the most hated countries in the world. If you were to go back to September 11th 2001 and tell them what the world would be like five years later as a result of that day, I doubt they would be able to believe you. But for all the ways the world has changed in a global sense, our personal day-to-day lives are pretty much exactly the same. Sure we live in a more fearful society now, and sure our national innocence was lost that day, but in our daily lives - day in and day out – we’re pretty much the same people we were before 9/11. All those people who made radical post-9/11 related life changes; I would wager that most of those people’s day-to-day lives now pretty closely resemble their pre-9/11 lives. I can’t say I or anyone else goes around every day, or even ANY day, thinking about 9/11. And I can’t say that my mentality on life or the way I live my life has been in any way noticeably directly affected by that day. In fact I would really struggle to find almost any way in which my day-to-day personal life and who I am was affected by 9/11. And most of us, if we’re honest with ourselves, would probably say the same thing. And if you do still walk around every day thinking about 9/11 and feeling deeply changed and/or tormented by it, might I suggest you get yourself some serious professional help post-haste. Because life goes on. Human beings are programmed so that we can experience tragedy, mourn over it, deal with it, and then accept it and move on. It’s a gift really. If we weren’t able to do that then none of us would ever be able to make it out of our mid 20’s without becoming too overwhelmed with grief and sorrow to live. Human beings are the most adaptable species on Earth and that’s allowed us to adapt to life in a post-9/11 world. But it’s important in this life to stop and think back. And remember. Because as much as we hear about 9/11 we never really remember it. We never actually sit down and think long and hard about the event itself. Because we’ve moved on. But it happened. It was something real and tragic and we were all there. And on that day, we said we would never be able to get over it. But we did. We hung signs that said “We Will Never Forget”. But we have. And we said there’s no way a movie could ever be made about it. But now one has been. And it’s because we were wrong about the first two things that we were also wrong about the third. And that’s why it’s important to see United 93. To remember. To remember not just the idea of 9/11 and all that’s attached to it, but to actually remember 9/11. To remember that day. Because in all the 9/11 commentary that has followed that’s the thing that has gotten lost. And that is why I urge you all, all six of you who read this, to go see it before it leaves theaters. And then urge everyone else in America to as well.
The other day when I was going to see it, I tried to urge my friend from work to come along. He looked at me like I had just asked him to come with me to watch a guy kill baby kittens. “Why do you want to see that?” he asked with a tone that could best be described as incredulous. And in that moment I felt very, very sad for America. And it’s really what spurred the writing of this piece.
Now the fact that the American movie going public is stupid and doesn’t like good, challenging or sophisticated movies is no news flash. I worked at Blockbuster for three years, so trust me, no one could have less faith in the American movie going public than me. But in that moment I realized how truly soft we’ve become. How self-involved. How coddled and safe and numb and unable to deal with anything that might challenge us or make us really feel genuine emotion, as opposed to the idea of emotion. As Owen Gleiberman points out in Entertainment Weekly, have you seen the list of movies that have made more money than United 93? You’re telling me people would really rather see She’s The Man and Silent Hill than United 93? What does this say about them? What does this say about us? How did we go from a country that used to watch live Civil War battles for family entertainment, to a country that cant even fathom the thought of wanting to see a reenactment of the most important historic event of our lifetimes. An event that we CLAIM to be so personally affected by. An event that we CLAIM forever altered out lives. Yet an event that we can’t even take two hours out of our busy lives to revisit and see dramatized. What is wrong with us? Granted it’s horrifying, and depressing, and yes it could even be described as a bit traumatic, but isn’t that what drama was invented for – to provide us with, as Aristotle said, “catharsis”. Isn’t this the very foundation that all dramatic art is based upon? And what event could we all use some catharsis regarding if not 9/11? The Ancient Greeks would have flocked to see United 93 in huge numbers. It would have been the biggest movie of all time. So how then did we get to this place? This place where we seem incredulous that drama would dare depict a horrible tragedy or that anyone would actually want to see it.
Now I’ve heard all the arguments…
* “It’s too soon.”
Oh really? Five years is too soon? How about the two TV movies that came before United 93? Were they too soon? How about the countless documentaries that have come and gone? How about the plays? The short films? The books? Are all of those things too soon too? How long SHOULD we wait then? Ten years? Fifteen years? Would forty years be too soon? Because I would hate for art to attempt to deal with something in a timely and relevant manner. It would be terrible if art to tried to shed any light on real life. That’s not the purpose of art or anything. Oh wait...actually it is. And the ability of movies to do just that – illuminate real life – is what raises them from pure entertainment into the realm of art. So is it too soon, or do you just hate all art?
* “It’s too real.”
Yes I agree. Hollywood should never make any movies about any real events. Actors should never play real people. How dare Hollywood make movies like Born on the Fourth of July or Schindler’s List! Look, to be real for a second, all of the families of everyone who died aboard Flight 93 approved of this movie. So who the hell are you to say it’s not okay? Unless you know someone who died aboard that flight, you really have no right to say whether United 93 should or should not have been made. How would you feel if someone you loved died in a tragedy and people tried to tell you that a movie shouldn’t be made that depicted for the world for all eternity their heroism and bravery? You’d tell them to shut the hell up. So you should do the same.
* “I think its wrong that the movie studio is, in a way, profiting from 9/11.”
Good point. Artists should never profit from their works. All art of any kind done about 9/11 should be done solely for charity. Same with Pearl Harbor. And the Holocaust. Look, it’d be one thing if it was a bad, disrespectful, Hollywoodized version of the events. But it’s an incredibly well done movie that was made with the utmost care and respect for all involved. I think its pretty safe to say that a better movie about 9/11 cannot and will not ever be made. So if you have a problem supporting that with your money then so be it. But just know that if you actually saw the movie I don’t think you would have the same complaint.
* “It’s too depressing.”
Wasn’t Terms of Endearment depressing? Or Love Story? Or Hamlet?
* “It’s too tragic.”
Wasn’t Brokeback Mountain tragic? Or Death of a Salesman? Or Titanic?
Look I could go on with your potential excuses all day and I could have a rebuttal for all of them, but ultimately it doesn’t matter. Because your real reason for not wanting to see it has nothing to with the movie itself. It has to do with you. To paraphrase Owen Gliberman, “it’s not the movie that we should be discussing; it’s our fear of seeing it.”
So I have a challenge for you. Face your fear. Take two hours out of your life and see United 93. It may be painful, it may be sad, it may be hard to watch, but that’s life and I think it’s about time you starting dealing with it. You owe it to the people who died that day, and you owe it to yourself. Because if you can’t even be bothered to see United 93 then how can you claim that 9/11 was a big deal for you? How can you use it as an excuse to justify the war? To justify supporting our current foreign policy? How can you claim it changed your life, or was important, or that you’ll never forget it if you cant even be bothered to take two measly hours out of your trite self-involved life to honor the memory of those that died, to reflect on that day, and to experience some cathartic remembrance of it? You cant.
It’s as simple as that.
Now if you still don’t want to see United 93, well, that’s your call. Everyone is entitled to his or her opinion, and as strongly as I may feel about mine, you’re entitled to yours. It’s your right. As an American and as human being. But let me tell you what you’re missing out on. You’re missing out on experiencing again the feelings of that fateful day and the days that followed. The patriotism. The feeling of togetherness. The renewed love for your loved ones and for your fellow man. All the feelings that have been obfuscated by the events that have followed. But for the few minutes after the closing credits start to roll, they come flooding back. You wipe your eyes, gather yourself, and head out onto the street. And sure enough as you leave the theater you feel connected to your fellow man. You wait for the train and you see the people who walk by not as a mass of annoyances, but as a series of faces, and behind each face a person. A person who shares this world with you and who has a life and loves and is just like you. And as their feet trudge by up the steps and into the dimming light of another quickly fading day you hear each pair of footsteps as its own. A group of individuals moving together in a sea of humanity. A sea capable of great and heroic things. And you’re reminded – this is what it means to be alive. And that’s what makes United 93 essential viewing. That’s why it should be shown in schools. That’s why it should be in every home. That’s why it should be mandatory viewing for every man, woman, and child that calls this country of ours home. Because that feeling is there. It’s there on the screen in United 93.
Top 3 & 1/2 of the Week:
(Further 9/11 related reading)
1.) "Manifesto": http://www.slate.com/id/2105672
2.) Owen Gleiberman's article on United 93: http://www.ew.com/ew/article/commentary/0,6115,1195450_1_0_,00.html
3.) Peter Travers Review of United 93: http://www.rollingstone.com/reviews/movie/_/id/9216055/rid/10146749/
3 & 1/2.) CNN's 9/11 Video archives: http://www.cnn.com/SPECIALS/2001/trade.center/day.video.09.html#11th
Wednesday, May 24, 2006
Tuesday, May 16, 2006
Why I Cant Sleep
We’ve all had that experience at the movie theater. We have our popcorn, we’re just settling into our seat, the previews are rolling along, and then out of the blue you’ll hear it: “Starring Academy Award winner Halle Berry”. And we all have the same reaction: “What the $#%#$”
Exactly.
What the $#%#$ indeed.
Halle Berry has an Oscar. How did that happen? It’s one of the greatest and most senseless tragedies of our time. And yet so many people have forgotten it even occurred. But we must never forget or else it might happen again. In nearly every major city there have been Holocaust museums erected, and yet not a single Halle Berry Oscar museum exists. Well I may be only one man and I may not have the money to buy a museum, but I do have a little read obscure online blog with a strange name. And I will use the remaining few paragraphs or so of this week’s entry to make sure the WORLD never forgets.
In order to deal with this problem though we must first look at how it happened. Looking back it would seem people were fooled by her attractiveness into thinking she deserved an Oscar. But come on, do we really live world where an actor’s merit is determined not by their level of talent but by their physical attributes? I say we do not! I also say my mind operates on the level of a five year old’s.
So it must be something else that led to her Oscar win. But what? Well, when anything in life happens and it seems like there is a logical explanation for it but you’re too lazy to find out what that reason is then that can only mean one thing: It must have been a racial thing.
At that time a black woman had never won Best Actress before, and so her win was great day for black people everywhere. Her win wasn’t just a win for her, but for all black women everywhere. You see, she’s very black. She’s not like The Rock or Mariah Carey - the grand marshals of the People Of Indeterminate Ethic Origin Day Parade. Oh no, she’s as black as night. As black as the bruises David Justice gave her. As black as a KFC in Bed-Stuy.
Only one problem...
She’s half white.
Her freaking mother who was sitting next to her when she won was whiter than Lauren Ambrose. I don’t get why this was never mentioned. Why was all the coverage of her winning focused around the fact she was “black”? It would be like if Freddie Prinze Jr. won a Cable Ace Award and it was declared a great moment for the Hispanic community.
(Speaking of great moments for the Hispanic community, can someone shoot Carlos Mencia for me?)
So since she’s half white it must not have been an affirmative action thing. So what was it? Why DID Halle Berry win an Oscar?
The world may never know.
Which means it was proabaly Sadam Hussein's fault.
Now lets go invade Iraq.
Top 3 & 1/2 of the Week
1.) The Coup
2.) The Greys Anatomy Finale
3.) Mario Live: http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-2139555376132383479&q=mario+live&pr=goog-sl
3 & 1/2.) "Further Evidence That Sports Center Has Lost All Connection to Reality": http://www.mcsweeneys.net/2006/5/10steele.html
Thought of the Week: Anyone else see the teaser ad for Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip? How did people forget to tell me Timothy Busfield was goign to be in? Matthew Perry, Nate Cordry, Bradley Whitford, AND Timothy Busfield? Thats hands down the greatest TV cast of all time. I could not possibly be more excited.
Exactly.
What the $#%#$ indeed.
Halle Berry has an Oscar. How did that happen? It’s one of the greatest and most senseless tragedies of our time. And yet so many people have forgotten it even occurred. But we must never forget or else it might happen again. In nearly every major city there have been Holocaust museums erected, and yet not a single Halle Berry Oscar museum exists. Well I may be only one man and I may not have the money to buy a museum, but I do have a little read obscure online blog with a strange name. And I will use the remaining few paragraphs or so of this week’s entry to make sure the WORLD never forgets.
In order to deal with this problem though we must first look at how it happened. Looking back it would seem people were fooled by her attractiveness into thinking she deserved an Oscar. But come on, do we really live world where an actor’s merit is determined not by their level of talent but by their physical attributes? I say we do not! I also say my mind operates on the level of a five year old’s.
So it must be something else that led to her Oscar win. But what? Well, when anything in life happens and it seems like there is a logical explanation for it but you’re too lazy to find out what that reason is then that can only mean one thing: It must have been a racial thing.
At that time a black woman had never won Best Actress before, and so her win was great day for black people everywhere. Her win wasn’t just a win for her, but for all black women everywhere. You see, she’s very black. She’s not like The Rock or Mariah Carey - the grand marshals of the People Of Indeterminate Ethic Origin Day Parade. Oh no, she’s as black as night. As black as the bruises David Justice gave her. As black as a KFC in Bed-Stuy.
Only one problem...
She’s half white.
Her freaking mother who was sitting next to her when she won was whiter than Lauren Ambrose. I don’t get why this was never mentioned. Why was all the coverage of her winning focused around the fact she was “black”? It would be like if Freddie Prinze Jr. won a Cable Ace Award and it was declared a great moment for the Hispanic community.
(Speaking of great moments for the Hispanic community, can someone shoot Carlos Mencia for me?)
So since she’s half white it must not have been an affirmative action thing. So what was it? Why DID Halle Berry win an Oscar?
The world may never know.
Which means it was proabaly Sadam Hussein's fault.
Now lets go invade Iraq.
Top 3 & 1/2 of the Week
1.) The Coup
2.) The Greys Anatomy Finale
3.) Mario Live: http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-2139555376132383479&q=mario+live&pr=goog-sl
3 & 1/2.) "Further Evidence That Sports Center Has Lost All Connection to Reality": http://www.mcsweeneys.net/2006/5/10steele.html
Thought of the Week: Anyone else see the teaser ad for Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip? How did people forget to tell me Timothy Busfield was goign to be in? Matthew Perry, Nate Cordry, Bradley Whitford, AND Timothy Busfield? Thats hands down the greatest TV cast of all time. I could not possibly be more excited.
Monday, May 08, 2006
Standing In A Field With Keri Russell; or The 200 People You Meet In Hell
Now let me say for the record here that I do generally enjoy background work. Sure the first few times you do it you spend a good deal of the time contemplating the various ways in which you would be able to kill yourself. And sure maybe there have been a few times where in order to stay awake you consumed so much caffeine that you literally feared that your heart might explode. But you do it enough times and you get used to it and accept it for what it is – easy money doing a job that’s far better than your real job.
But sometimes you forget that.
Because sometimes it’s four in the morning and you’re outside in the freezing cold and you lost feeling in your toes at least an hour ago. And strangely its not the first time you’ve found yourself in this exact situation. And you look around you. And you listen around you. And you wonder if “listen around you” is a phrase that even makes any sense. And you start to think that maybe genocide might not be such a bad thing after all. And you realize that if that statement sounds crazy or outrageous to someone then that means that they’ve clearly never done extra work before. See, there’s a famous headline from The Onion that reads “Ill Try Anything With a Detached Air of Superiority”. And I think that perfectly sums up my forays into the glamorous world of extra work. It’s a world where people who, if given a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in real life would probably throw it in the trash, literally stampede over each other with no regard for human life for the chance to spread off-brand peanut butter and something that slightly resembles jelly onto two-week-old Wonder Bread. It’s a world where the phrase “checking the gate” elicits screams of ecstasy the likes of which probably haven’t been heard anywhere else other than your Mom’s bedroom on the nights that I come over. It’s a world of immense glitz and glamour and one that demands of its participants many things. They must be able to be available at a moment’s notice to work a 12-hour day or a 12-hour night for very little money. They must be so desperate to be in the entertainment industry that they will agree to stand outside for six hours in horrific conditions with no break just so that they can be somewhere in the general proximity of a movie camera. They must have nothing better to do with their time than to serve as an insignificant human prop. And most importantly, they must have absolutely no life. As such, extra work draws a huge cross section of people to its siren song - from the pathetic, to the talentless, to the criminally insane. It brings together fecund cesspools of humanity the likes of which can’t be found anywhere else on Earth other than The Olive Garden. And there I am right in the middle of it all, clinging for dear life to what is the lowest rung of the showbiz ladder other than working for NBC. But I’m far from judging these people. Oh no, judging them was like so four hours ago. Now I’m on to classifying and categorizing them. Because while the locations and the projects change, the people stay the same. They are the people you meet in hell.
The First Timer: They’re bright and sunny. They’re happy to be there. Every little thing that happens is like a new adventure. Never before has filling out paperwork seemed like such a thrill. And eight hours from now you can pretty much guarantee that they will be lying on the ground in the fetal position weeping and thinking that even a slow painful death by asphyxiation would be preferable to this nightmare.
The Lifers: They’ve been doing this for AT LEAST ten years. They’re all in SAG but have never had more than five lines on any given project. They’re actors in the way that the guy that makes the sandwiches at your corner bodega is a chef. But yet they’re treated like deities by their fellow extras. They’re usually gathered together holding court for the newbies and regaling them with tales from the days of yore like that time Woody Allen let them be Police Man #1 on Hannah and Her Sisters. It would all be fascinating if it weren’t so very very sad.
The Guy Who Thinks He’s Hot Stuff: Perhaps in this context you may seem cool. But being the coolest background actor is a bit like being the coolest guy in a leper colony. Yes you may be the coolest guy in the colony, but you’re still a leper.
The Person Talking Out Loud to No One In Specific Because They Want You To Know How Funny They Are: Shut Up.
The Person Talking Out Loud to No One In Specific Because They Are Insane: Its like being on the subway except for you’re not getting off in three stops and you don’t have an iPod to drown it out.
The P.A. On A Power Trip: They’re my favorite and there’s always more than one of them. They’re the people who tell you what you’ve already been told by three other people but just in a much more forceful, confusing, and ridiculous way. Also, you know how you were standing in one place and then were told to move, only to be told later to return to exactly the same place? Well that was this person's doing. You should thank them on the way out. I find that the gift of a sense of self-worth is usually appropriate.
The Wide Eyed Clueless Newcomer: They are always inevitably talking to…
The Person Who Has No Idea What They Are Talking About: Usually can be identified by the fact that they have black and white headshots and are reading the print version of Backstage. They also have a B.A. from Bumblefuck U. and are inevitably appearing in Millennium Talent Group’s production of “Give Us Your Money”. And you can pretty much guarantee that “Happy Hour” is somewhere on their resume. And I’ve now officially lost 95% of my audience because they have no idea what I’m talking about. Great. Now my readership is now negative four people.
The Person Mugging For The Camera: “Hey look at me! I’m dancing on top of the car. I’m focusing on the action in the scene so hard that my eyebrows are moving more than Don Cheadle’s. I’m yelling so loud my voice is hoarse by the second take. I’m somehow standing right next to the star in every take. Wait, what do you mean ‘go back to holding’? Why is everyone else allowed to stay? And why are they all cheering?”
The Person Who Compares The Craft Service To The Craft Service Of Every Other Film They Have Been On: The craft service table has plain bagels? Well the craft service table on The Inside Man shoot had raisin bagels with lox and chives. You only get one kids sized Capri Sun to drink? Could be worse. On Love Monkey Tom Cavanaugh pissed in a cup and that was the only liquid available on set. They’re serving salmon and smoked turkey breast? Well on The Stepford Wives they had roasted duck with mango salsa. (And yes for the record that commercial has definitely run its course.)
The Person Who Came in From Far Away To Do This: If it took you more than an hour to get to the check-in place today you should just kill yourself right now. Trust me, it’s for the best.
The Person Who Complains About Everything: “Oh my God if I have to stand up for one more second I’m gonna fucking lose my mind. I can’t take this anymore. My body aint made to stand up for this long. What? I gotta sit down now?!? Aw, this is some BULLSHIT. I can’t believe this shit. Now I gotta sit down? Man this is fucking ridiculous. Next thing you know they’re gonna be saying all we gots to drink is Tom Cavanaugh’s piss in a cup.”
The Person Who Talks The Whole Time About How They Are Going To Leave: After every take they keep swearing that if they have to do that fucking scene one more time they are out of here. Which means you know for a fact that eight hours later they’ll still be there. Which is more than you can say for…
The Person Who Is Way Too Excited To Be There: “Oh my god Sally! Guess where I am? I am on the set of a MOVIE! I know, isn’t that crazy? There are like movie stars here and everything. Ohmygod, OHMYGOD, I think I see Robin Williams right over there!!! I’m gonna go tell him what I big fan I am. I know he’ll appreciate hearing that. As soon they yell cut I'll just scream out his name. Wont he just LOVE that?!? This is so exciting!!! Ill call you back later Sally and give you the whole scoop. Laters.”
The Person Who Is Sucking Up To The Casting People: “Hey Chuck! How’s it goin? How are Amy and little Samantha? How old is she now anyway? How has the shoot been going so far? Oh yea? That’s funny! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. Oh Chuck you’re the best. I’ll see you later. I want you inside me. Oh hey…from before…”
The Person Who Thinks This Is Somehow Helping Their Career: Its not.
The 40 Year Old Who Is Just Beginning Their Career: The list of guarantees in life is a short one. Death. Taxes. Having a daily encounter with the 6 train mariachi band. And most important among those is the fact that any person 40 years or older who is just beginning their acting career is a terrible actor. They are also usually bat shit insane.
The 40 Year Old Who Is In Denial About Their Age: Their hair is dyed. Those clothes are way too small for them. They keep checking their compact every ten seconds. They’re tan and it’s the middle of January. Yes that’s right it’s an attack of the MIWNLTFBSLLSSOSTC (Mom I Would Not Like To Fuck Because She Looks Like Some Sort Of Strange Troll Creature)
The 40 Year Old Virgin: A wildly overrated movie.
The Person Who Not So Subtly Wants To Tell You About Their Career: A slight variation on the “Person Who Not So Subtly Want To Tell You How Drunk They Were Last Night”. You remember that person from high school or freshman year of college right? Your conversations would always go something like this:
You: “Do you if it’s going to rain today?”
Them: “It was going to rain last night, when I was drunk”
Or
You: “What’s two plus two?”
Them: “How should I know? I got wasted last night.”
Well this person is just like that only far more annoying. I think its no exaggeration to say this encompasses about 80% of the people you’ll encounter while doing extra work. You listen to them drone on about their career and you just want to stop them and say, “You’re doing fucking extra work. Your career cant be going that well or you wouldn’t fucking be here. So shut the hell up.” And no, hearing a complete stranger talk about themselves to me for 20 minutes doesn’t make me the least bit hostile. And yes, actors are without a shadow of a doubt the most annoying people on the face of the earth. And no I don’t know why you’re friends with me either.
I’m sure I’m leaving people out but I think that provides a pretty decent list for whoever the next evil dictator is who wants to start an “ethnic cleansing” type program. That should give them a nice reference sheet for the types of people they need to round up. And if you ever do extra work in the future keep an eye out for these people, I promise you'll be there.
Also, while I’m here I think it’s worth noting that Keri Russell is a very, very tiny woman.
And I'm pretty sure I just accidentally touched her ass.
But sometimes you forget that.
Because sometimes it’s four in the morning and you’re outside in the freezing cold and you lost feeling in your toes at least an hour ago. And strangely its not the first time you’ve found yourself in this exact situation. And you look around you. And you listen around you. And you wonder if “listen around you” is a phrase that even makes any sense. And you start to think that maybe genocide might not be such a bad thing after all. And you realize that if that statement sounds crazy or outrageous to someone then that means that they’ve clearly never done extra work before. See, there’s a famous headline from The Onion that reads “Ill Try Anything With a Detached Air of Superiority”. And I think that perfectly sums up my forays into the glamorous world of extra work. It’s a world where people who, if given a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in real life would probably throw it in the trash, literally stampede over each other with no regard for human life for the chance to spread off-brand peanut butter and something that slightly resembles jelly onto two-week-old Wonder Bread. It’s a world where the phrase “checking the gate” elicits screams of ecstasy the likes of which probably haven’t been heard anywhere else other than your Mom’s bedroom on the nights that I come over. It’s a world of immense glitz and glamour and one that demands of its participants many things. They must be able to be available at a moment’s notice to work a 12-hour day or a 12-hour night for very little money. They must be so desperate to be in the entertainment industry that they will agree to stand outside for six hours in horrific conditions with no break just so that they can be somewhere in the general proximity of a movie camera. They must have nothing better to do with their time than to serve as an insignificant human prop. And most importantly, they must have absolutely no life. As such, extra work draws a huge cross section of people to its siren song - from the pathetic, to the talentless, to the criminally insane. It brings together fecund cesspools of humanity the likes of which can’t be found anywhere else on Earth other than The Olive Garden. And there I am right in the middle of it all, clinging for dear life to what is the lowest rung of the showbiz ladder other than working for NBC. But I’m far from judging these people. Oh no, judging them was like so four hours ago. Now I’m on to classifying and categorizing them. Because while the locations and the projects change, the people stay the same. They are the people you meet in hell.
The First Timer: They’re bright and sunny. They’re happy to be there. Every little thing that happens is like a new adventure. Never before has filling out paperwork seemed like such a thrill. And eight hours from now you can pretty much guarantee that they will be lying on the ground in the fetal position weeping and thinking that even a slow painful death by asphyxiation would be preferable to this nightmare.
The Lifers: They’ve been doing this for AT LEAST ten years. They’re all in SAG but have never had more than five lines on any given project. They’re actors in the way that the guy that makes the sandwiches at your corner bodega is a chef. But yet they’re treated like deities by their fellow extras. They’re usually gathered together holding court for the newbies and regaling them with tales from the days of yore like that time Woody Allen let them be Police Man #1 on Hannah and Her Sisters. It would all be fascinating if it weren’t so very very sad.
The Guy Who Thinks He’s Hot Stuff: Perhaps in this context you may seem cool. But being the coolest background actor is a bit like being the coolest guy in a leper colony. Yes you may be the coolest guy in the colony, but you’re still a leper.
The Person Talking Out Loud to No One In Specific Because They Want You To Know How Funny They Are: Shut Up.
The Person Talking Out Loud to No One In Specific Because They Are Insane: Its like being on the subway except for you’re not getting off in three stops and you don’t have an iPod to drown it out.
The P.A. On A Power Trip: They’re my favorite and there’s always more than one of them. They’re the people who tell you what you’ve already been told by three other people but just in a much more forceful, confusing, and ridiculous way. Also, you know how you were standing in one place and then were told to move, only to be told later to return to exactly the same place? Well that was this person's doing. You should thank them on the way out. I find that the gift of a sense of self-worth is usually appropriate.
The Wide Eyed Clueless Newcomer: They are always inevitably talking to…
The Person Who Has No Idea What They Are Talking About: Usually can be identified by the fact that they have black and white headshots and are reading the print version of Backstage. They also have a B.A. from Bumblefuck U. and are inevitably appearing in Millennium Talent Group’s production of “Give Us Your Money”. And you can pretty much guarantee that “Happy Hour” is somewhere on their resume. And I’ve now officially lost 95% of my audience because they have no idea what I’m talking about. Great. Now my readership is now negative four people.
The Person Mugging For The Camera: “Hey look at me! I’m dancing on top of the car. I’m focusing on the action in the scene so hard that my eyebrows are moving more than Don Cheadle’s. I’m yelling so loud my voice is hoarse by the second take. I’m somehow standing right next to the star in every take. Wait, what do you mean ‘go back to holding’? Why is everyone else allowed to stay? And why are they all cheering?”
The Person Who Compares The Craft Service To The Craft Service Of Every Other Film They Have Been On: The craft service table has plain bagels? Well the craft service table on The Inside Man shoot had raisin bagels with lox and chives. You only get one kids sized Capri Sun to drink? Could be worse. On Love Monkey Tom Cavanaugh pissed in a cup and that was the only liquid available on set. They’re serving salmon and smoked turkey breast? Well on The Stepford Wives they had roasted duck with mango salsa. (And yes for the record that commercial has definitely run its course.)
The Person Who Came in From Far Away To Do This: If it took you more than an hour to get to the check-in place today you should just kill yourself right now. Trust me, it’s for the best.
The Person Who Complains About Everything: “Oh my God if I have to stand up for one more second I’m gonna fucking lose my mind. I can’t take this anymore. My body aint made to stand up for this long. What? I gotta sit down now?!? Aw, this is some BULLSHIT. I can’t believe this shit. Now I gotta sit down? Man this is fucking ridiculous. Next thing you know they’re gonna be saying all we gots to drink is Tom Cavanaugh’s piss in a cup.”
The Person Who Talks The Whole Time About How They Are Going To Leave: After every take they keep swearing that if they have to do that fucking scene one more time they are out of here. Which means you know for a fact that eight hours later they’ll still be there. Which is more than you can say for…
The Person Who Is Way Too Excited To Be There: “Oh my god Sally! Guess where I am? I am on the set of a MOVIE! I know, isn’t that crazy? There are like movie stars here and everything. Ohmygod, OHMYGOD, I think I see Robin Williams right over there!!! I’m gonna go tell him what I big fan I am. I know he’ll appreciate hearing that. As soon they yell cut I'll just scream out his name. Wont he just LOVE that?!? This is so exciting!!! Ill call you back later Sally and give you the whole scoop. Laters.”
The Person Who Is Sucking Up To The Casting People: “Hey Chuck! How’s it goin? How are Amy and little Samantha? How old is she now anyway? How has the shoot been going so far? Oh yea? That’s funny! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. Oh Chuck you’re the best. I’ll see you later. I want you inside me. Oh hey…from before…”
The Person Who Thinks This Is Somehow Helping Their Career: Its not.
The 40 Year Old Who Is Just Beginning Their Career: The list of guarantees in life is a short one. Death. Taxes. Having a daily encounter with the 6 train mariachi band. And most important among those is the fact that any person 40 years or older who is just beginning their acting career is a terrible actor. They are also usually bat shit insane.
The 40 Year Old Who Is In Denial About Their Age: Their hair is dyed. Those clothes are way too small for them. They keep checking their compact every ten seconds. They’re tan and it’s the middle of January. Yes that’s right it’s an attack of the MIWNLTFBSLLSSOSTC (Mom I Would Not Like To Fuck Because She Looks Like Some Sort Of Strange Troll Creature)
The 40 Year Old Virgin: A wildly overrated movie.
The Person Who Not So Subtly Wants To Tell You About Their Career: A slight variation on the “Person Who Not So Subtly Want To Tell You How Drunk They Were Last Night”. You remember that person from high school or freshman year of college right? Your conversations would always go something like this:
You: “Do you if it’s going to rain today?”
Them: “It was going to rain last night, when I was drunk”
Or
You: “What’s two plus two?”
Them: “How should I know? I got wasted last night.”
Well this person is just like that only far more annoying. I think its no exaggeration to say this encompasses about 80% of the people you’ll encounter while doing extra work. You listen to them drone on about their career and you just want to stop them and say, “You’re doing fucking extra work. Your career cant be going that well or you wouldn’t fucking be here. So shut the hell up.” And no, hearing a complete stranger talk about themselves to me for 20 minutes doesn’t make me the least bit hostile. And yes, actors are without a shadow of a doubt the most annoying people on the face of the earth. And no I don’t know why you’re friends with me either.
I’m sure I’m leaving people out but I think that provides a pretty decent list for whoever the next evil dictator is who wants to start an “ethnic cleansing” type program. That should give them a nice reference sheet for the types of people they need to round up. And if you ever do extra work in the future keep an eye out for these people, I promise you'll be there.
Also, while I’m here I think it’s worth noting that Keri Russell is a very, very tiny woman.
And I'm pretty sure I just accidentally touched her ass.
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