Just a Pawn in the Designer's Game
Down in the County Orange today, playing a cool kat shoe techinican. Got to dress in labels (usually a no-no in extra world.). Dress like you have a creative job. This induces longing and envy in me that allows me to really get into dressing for the part. I'm not paid to be creative, but I play one in the movies. I like the challenge of looking at my closet and seeing what works to achieve the character (did I just say "the character"??? oh lord, I've lost it, I'm a full-on deluded Backie now.) Satisfaction is derived when the costume person gives me a nod and I don't need to change.
It was a mild fuckstick drive down today. Started at 5:30AM, but that didn't mean there wasn't the usual junk to fight through. Some of us (who??? must find out) took a more expedient route. One of my fondest LA dreams is to have a helicotper to commute and today on the set I watched a helicopter land. Damn. That's one impressive display of power and wealth, especially in LA. It also made for the ultimate Backie sight-gag. A dude who looked like he was born with a kick-me sign on this back was standing near a tent when the copter landed. Because of the rain yesterday, water had collected on top of the tent. The poor Backie was drenched in water as the blades whirred and made everything blow, just like in a 'Nam movie.
Starting to recognize a lotta folks on sets, after just working 2 and 1/2 weeks. Makes my conspiracy theories come alive: we're all newbies who are given all the work for a couple of months, and then: no more. Wind whistles through our abandoned hearts, tumble weeds blow over the desert of our job opportunities.
Start talking to a Backie I worked with on Some People Like Soda. Funny gay black fella. We start talking and I'm telling my story about how frustrated I was with the background peeps dodging work, hiding during the one scene on Soda.
He laffed and said "That would be my people."
Whoops, I had forgot they were all the young black kids doing this, and hadn't counted on anyone remembering this detail. I felt kinda bad, but then he went on to slag another black young girl who was fired from the set for sassing an A.D. I didn't realize she was fired, but he pointed out she vanished after her incident. This same young girl was running down gays, and all the black dudes around here were doing the same thing. As my pals, older & wiser black folks point out often, some black folks "is ignorant," and it's not the first time amongst younger, less educated black kids I've noticed strong homophobia. Which accounts for the reason my gay compadre, the black gay fella I was talking to, was so contemptuous of the black kids behavior on set, and willing to set himself apart from them. He's not wanted by a large part of his own culture, meanwhile white folks in Hollywood, despite all our other shortcomings, won't give him a hard time.
Also noticed they're tagging folks on this movie, which is called "Norton's Gap". Folks are wearing union tags (SAG) and others say "BG" (Background). I was given neither. The security on this set is pretty tight, despite the laid-back director's reputation as being a "nice guy." His ADs and Second-Second ADs treat us nice, and attest to the fact he's nice too. Nice to be nice to the nice. (that's my all-time favorite quote from M*A*S*H, Frank Burns). And yet, amongst the sea of niceness, we are required to fill out confidentiality forms, saying we'll never let out what happened on this set.
I'm sitting here thinking about the god-awful early requirements of LA film-making and how they turn all the wacky/crazy/creative types into the modest mouses. Gotta go to be early to make the 5:15AM calls. And if you buck this, like the star of "Boo-Boo," Danielle Donnigan, you have crying jags on the set. Peeps whisper about your drinking problem. Backies who have been on the set of Boo-Boo confirm Danielle Donnigan has been showing up hung over and causing production delays. If you've been to set and seen the enormity of people and machinery mased to pull off a production, now picture an 18 year star disrupting this process because she was out clubbing last night. It won't be tolerated very long.
Damn, they just made me change. I was proud of my lil' hippity-hop-kool-kat outfit. I had on b&w camoflauge shorts, my orangey "Alley" t-shirt, and a spacey looking silver jacket with a "TEXACO" emblem I took from one of my distengrating hats. Oh, and b&w Vans dock shoes. At 36 I'm struggling to hit this "hip" niche without looking foolish. The wardrobe chick loved "The Alley" t-shirt, nixed the camo shorts for camo pants. Urrr.
Oh well, it could worse, i could be trying to put together an "executive" costume on $50 a day. "Please come dressed as an executive." I think of some of the accounting firms I worked at, and their stipends for newbie accountants: $500. A Backie drops a zero from that figure and he has his day's pay.
Okay, come to find out the helicopter is for a shot in the movie. Wasn't the director or star coming to work. The AD actually explained this and our purpose and motivation in the scene using the helicopter. The lead of "Norton's Gap," Largo Fleur is to get off the helicopter and walk down a corridor of shame. He's about to be fired, and we know it, and he doesn't. Largo was walking around the set with a dog he picked up in Morroco, throwing him chew toys before each shot. One of the extras commented how when he got here, they didn't have bathrooms set up for us, but the star's dog was allowed to shit anywhere on the set. Another nice Backie self-esteem moment ...
Right now the copter is whirring and the AD's and production folks are nervous: a helicopter, of course, being the key ingredient in one of the film industries most famous tragedies: The Twilight Zone movie. Vic Morrow, and 2 asian kids had their heads cut off by an out-of-control copter. John Landis, the director, narrowly escaped jail time.
Currently, I'm a pawn. The Designer of the film likes my look, thinking me an "Art Director" at our fictional shoe company. I love getting a specific role, even as a lowly Backie, it helps. This other person, a blonde stressed-out lady (the set dresser? not sure) does not like my look, and said
"Okay Texaco guy, go on this side," meaning the group of folks destined to be redressed. Then the Designer said I was "perfect," and sent me across the gulf to the land of the sharp dressed men.
Then the Stressed Blondie saw me, and barked for me to go to wardrobe.
At wardrobe the Designer who liked me said, "Fuck her, you look great," and sent me back. This is going to end badly, and I hope not for me. Well, they just put us in a lineup. 200 people snaked out one-by-one. Fellow, experienced Backies say they have never been given so much scrutiny over wardrobe. The Blondie is still bitching about me, I'm pulled outta line again, of course, because I didn't change my clothes per her demand. The Blondie and designer are arguing in front of me, and finally Blondie comes to the conclusion she doesn't like my camo pants (anti-war pacifists?). Then they decide they do like them, it's really my orange "Alley" shirt, named for a Silverlake eatery that has passed on. Two of the wardrobe people specifically commented favorably on this shirt, but I think my whole ensamble actually looks better with the grey t-shirt they put me. The orange shirt was too much with the green camoflauge pants, I only meant it for wearing with the b&w camo pants.
After all the haggling over me, I became a bad karma piece, and was left to rot in the Backies bullpen. Yup, they didn't put me on set, and I was let go at the end of the day. There was the real promise for a week's worth of work outta this down in the O.C. Decided to stay in O.C. and had dinner and a movie to avoid the traffic, tweaked by the rain. The car's were inching on the freeway when we left the set, so I avoided that unpleasantness.
When I get home I'm dog-tired. Beat. Didn't do a damn thing all day but wait, and still you come home from these things feeling like you slung a jackhammer all day.
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