Got Killed Last Night

Knifed in the shower, a hack way to die. Tried to convince them to do something a little different, let me sit down in the shower at least, to make it more interesting. Nope. The blood: maple syrup with food coloring. I still feel it on me in some places, despite two real showers after the killing shower.

It was my second and last day on this movie a fellow extra is filming. I get to act and say lines. Slasher-boobie film starring his gal-pal and mother of his child to be. Her breasts were definitely bigger then the last time we filmed. We were all told to not mention the pregnancy on the set, one of their friends from their latenight skin-flicks was coming today to film a scene, and they didn’t want the company to know about the pregnancy. She’ shooting something for a company right now. I have to believe they will notice the breasts suddenly growing pendulous, I sure did. What I didn’t notice was that my shorts had ripped in the back, during all the mayhem.

The sound guy kept saying in a nonchalant way, “Ah, Josh, you might want to check, you have a little rip in your pants.” I was wearing just my boxers for the shower scene, the camera stayed above the waist. Finally, I checked, and realized he was fucking with me, I had a ripped them wide open. Can’t wait till that fun stuff gets out on the internet. Knowing these background jokers, they prolly couldn’t resist shooting my ass (and god-knows-what-else you can see) when I wasn’t paying attention. The gal who’s the star of the film has a website where she sells items from her movies. I offered my shorts. She declined.

Again, you have so much respect for actors once you do a scene like this. You’re all at the mercy of the technical considerations, they are working fast and furious to get everything done. They are shooting in chopped-up sequences for editing. Thus, you’re performing in bursts, trying to remember where you are emotionally as you die. And, fall in a shower with no room to fall. I stubbed the shit outta my toe once.

They used a real knife. That fucked with me. I know she’s gonna miss, but if she screws up just a little, it could nick me very easily. She could see I was scairt and tried to shame me “I do this all the time, it’s not a big deal,” but I said back:

“It’s okay that I’m scared, I’m gonna try and use it.”]

The look on her face was one of “oh, this guy’s really trying to act here.” And I was. I wanted to die in a realistic way, not the typical, stock way you see in the films, where you can almost feel the coregraphed movement of it take place. It was also weird, in that I couldn’t fight back with her, I had to be a tall, big dude, who just lets the stabbing happen because I’m so shocked, I never try and wrest the knife, block the knife, or stop her arm.

I have a friend who pulled a guy out of a burning airplane. He received a commendation from the LA Fire Department for his bravery. What he has to live with, however, is that he couldn’t get the second passenger out. For some reason, maybe his leg was pinned by the wreckage, the guy was stuck. And the fire kept going, and eventually my friend had to leave the second passenger to burn to death, afraid for his own life and possible gas tank explosions. He gets to take to his grave the sound of this guy whimpering, saying it sounded so sad, the guy was sad that his life was ending. I tried to use a little of that sadness, instead of only the shock part that peeps try on film. I doubt it will play, but I was in there, in a cheesy-dumb-horror-boobie film, working my craft. Trying to stay focused.

Even things like them getting wild sound of the shower, I would put my hand in the stream of water, to get some different shower sounds. Or, moving my foot, for a shot of the blood pouring down my leg into the drain, making the foot look like it’s squirming. One of the crew noticed that I was intent on even this small task and I said to him, “Fuck it man, I’m here to act, I’m gonna give em a full day’s work.”

I finally allowed myself to look fully at the gal’s breasts and be lascivious. She’s lathering me up in a shower, I felt it was important to really try and gross with her, and not spare her feelings, so that she has more impetus to kill me. For someone who’s been in a lot of movies topless, I get a feeling of anger in her everytime she has to disrobe. It’s very slight, but it’s simmering there under the nicey-nice.

Right when I got to set, I was told we would kiss in this scene. I actually felt like I was back in High School, in the school play, and forced to kiss the prettiest girl in school. Of course, I wanted to kiss her brother, and, I was sure she didn’t want to kiss me – so I tried to protest more than her. As in, Eww I don’t’ want to kiss you either! Which only made me look gayer. I really didn’t want to kiss this girl on set last night, even prostitutes don’t like kissing their johns, it’s too intimate, and with her topless – ahh, no. I’m in a commited relationship with another man, and it feels a lot like cheating. I can pawn it off as her just being a straight girl, so what: but like the straight guys who do gay porn know --- if there’s a dick up your ass, how straight are you really?

Typical Hollywood craziness: the guy holding the boom is a very wealthy dude. His dad invented and patented an erection cream, so he hasn’t had to work a day in his life. He was telling me about his bachelor party, replete with hookers, coke, pot&booze, and his wife saying to him before he left “just blow jobs. As many as you want. But, just blow jobs.”