The Funky Smell In My Prowler
I’ll admit the car was down for a few months, but it was in the garage. The windows were down, too, but when I started driving it again, yikes! it smelled funky. I can’t even really describe the scent… Maybe like boiled sweat. I’ve never smelled anything like it. Not putrescent, but certainly not a pleasure to inhale–especially in a car with such a small passenger compartment.
But it didn’t keep the car from running, so I drove it anyway–windows down, of course. LA weather’s good for that.
I was fortunate enough to get a week’s worth of work on The Changeling and that car is one of my favorites to drive on studio lots, so on the Monday, I kept the windows down until I got there and all was well, but funky smelling.
On Tuesday, as I was tossing my stuff in the car before heading out, I just by chance happened to look behind the driver’s seat. I found the cause of the funky smell, but didn’t have time to deal with it. I mean, I didn’t know how long it had been there and didn’t want it to either come apart in my hand or drip something icky that I’d need to clean off the upholstery right away. I’d need to take precaution. The only immediate thing I felt I needed to do was take pictures!
So, I drove to the studio that day knowing what was stinking up my car and I wished I’d taken care of it because it was kinda disconcerting for it to be there, me knowing it but not doing anything about it. Until I got home.
Yes, there was a dead bird in my Prowler…and it had probably been there for months! I still every now and then chuckle and utter, “There was a dead bird in my car.” I have no idea how it got there, either. I mean, yeah, the windows were down, but they’re pretty small on that car. And the car was in the garage, too!
I’ve yet to name the poor tweety, but it is now the patron saint of my garage. I’ll mount him on a plaque or something soon, but right now, he’s resting by the door, watching over my cars. Poor little thing. Completely mummified, too.
The Changeling (3)
Yesterday, the hair lady told us not to wash our hair so that it’d look gross for the next day, too. I couldn’t find my shower cap so I had to put a plastic bag over my head when I showered. That was weird, but whatever. The experience of it was kind of fun. When else would I ever have to do it? And for what better reason than a big movie?
When I went out to my Prowler, something odd happened. As I was dropping my backpack in the passenger seat, I happened to see something small and brown–and feathered–behind the driver’s seat. No. Couldn’t be, could it?
Yeah, there was a dead bird behind my seat.
And I didn’t have enough time to deal with it. I had to leave or I was going to be late.
So, I drove to the studio lot knowing the funky smell the car had had for the past few months was a dead bird. Ew. All I could think about the whole time was that there was a dead bird going for yet another ride in the car. It’d probably been in there for a few hundred miles around town at least. Click here for the whole story on the poor birdy…and pictures!
I walked onto the lot and got to base camp just fine. Had my waffle and made the rounds of wardrobe, hair and make-up before getting on a shuttle to the sound stage. Most of us were in the first scene of the day.
When the crew was ready, all of us were led into the breakfast room and lined up so they could pick and choose who sat where. I was selected first–which was bizarre because I’d never been picked first for kickball, so why now? What horror was I in for?–and seated in a seemingly normal spot.
The prop guys were busy putting trays of food and various cups at each setting and another lady was selected to sit in a wheelchair. The day before, she’d been selected to be a lobotomy patient, so today, they’d put a scar on her. She was so sweet, sharing a few more stories about the various featured extra parts she’d gotten that were somewhat similar to this one. I hope I work with her again.
All the rest of us were seated, plus a few were left standing in the food line. Then Angelina came in. She’s so awesome.
Anyhow, the scene was that she gets her food, goes and sits down, then the other principle has a conversation with her, sort of telling her the ropes of being locked up in the place. Some of us really were crazy, the rest of us were locked up because we’d hassled the police one way or another. We weren’t crazy, just sort of jailed.
Angelina smiled at me, admiring my broken nose. Yay! She made my day (even more than it had already been made by just being on the show!)
Then, the assistant director explained to me that ‘my brother had gotten beaten up by cops and I tried to sell the story to the newspapers. The cops hunted me down and locked me up there in the asylum instead of jail.’
I nodded like I understood, but I was thinking, “Holy shit! Does this mean I might be featured?” (“I’m ready for my close-up, Mr. Eastwood…”)
The scene happened, and sure enough, Amy Ryan (I can’t remember her character name for some reason) was telling Angelina (Funny, I don’t remember her character name either!) about how to fit in and that she knew she wasn’t crazy. She then said, “See that woman over there…” then told a little story about how that lady was a cop’s wife who got beat up. “And that woman over there.” She motioned to me!!!!!!! ” The cops beat up her brother–broke both his arms…”
So, during the scene, I was the woman they referred to for that bit. Yay! Whether I will be for the finished product, I don’t know, but on the day, I was the one and that was really freakin’ awesome to me. As if my day could get any better than it already was!
Well, it did…
They had to shoot inserts of us isolated as though from Angelina’s point of view. They shot myself and two other women plus the wheelchair lady. I really hope I make it into the finished product. I really, really do.
The insert close-up shot was pretty simple. I wasn’t supposed to acknowledge the camera per se… just do whatever I’d do while eating breakfast. At one point, the director, (yes, Clint Eastwood!) had me sort of look toward–but not at–the camera.
And that was it. I spent the rest of the day in holding (which was somewhere on Cloud 9 for me…) before unbelievably given a call time for tomorrow while being signed out. Yeah, I was going to come back again for more fun and games! I couldn’t believe it, either!
Of course, as I got in my car to go home, I remembered the dead bird under my seat and thought about the darn thing all the way home. My hubby was gracious enough to do the honor of removing it. Yeah, he reached in and grabbed it. The poor thing was stiff as a board–mummified! It’s now the patron saint of our garage. We put the poor thing near the door to watch over our cars.
The Changeling (2)
So, by some miracle, an extra’s most unlikely dream came true. After working on The Changeling back in October, I was recalled in December! I think I will eternally be in shock that I was actually called back. Usually, production says they’ll call you, but it never happens. I’ve learned not to believe it even when they say, “You’ll be working tomorrow.” until when I’m being signed out at the end of the day and given my call time.
I’d even brazenly scheduled a dentist appointment for today, assuming they’d never call me. But they did and I’d much rather be on a movie with Angelina Jolie and Clint Eastwood than sitting in a dentist chair!
They claimed that we’d be working the whole week. Yeah, sure, whatever…
I arrived at the studio lot and had to cross the WGA picket line. The guys were real nice. They understood we’re extras and make pennies to even their tens of dollars under the old contract.
I was shuttled to base camp where I was treated to a full breakfast bar…including freshly made waffles right out of the iron. The moment it landed on my plate, I knew I’d probably never have it that good on any other set.
After eating, I went to the costume trailer where I was given essentially a smock and a thin robe to put over it, a pair of slippers and various undergarments. It was 1928 and I was to play a Code 12 patient in an insane asylum. Yay!
In the make-up trailer, I had an even more in-depth experience than I did the first time. She broke my nose and put a big slash across it! Then, more blood in splotches on my lips. My eyes were darkened and I was generally looking drugged, tired and beat up. Yay!
In the hair trailer, I had about the same time as the first time. She made my hair look like I hadn’t washed it in months. I looked properly horrible. Yay!
Eventually, I was shuttled to the sound stage. There were tours going by looking at all of us extras in fright. It was great. We smiled and waved whenever we could. Each time I had to use the little girl’s room one stage over, all the various crew guys working on nearby stages gave me pretty strange looks at first. It was fun for me. When else can a girl walk around looking like that and it’s normal?
I spent almost the entire day in holding, reading a book about English weapons and warfare. Then, a PA beckoned me to work in the scene. I kept getting about a foot away from being in frame before the scene ended. Oh well. I missed it. I didn’t get to see either Angelina or Clint that whole day.
But I did get to eat sushi for lunch. And french fries! (They were good, too!)
And when I was being signed out for the day, I was given a call time for the next day!
LA AutoShow Highlights
I went to the LA AutoShow. Honestly, new cars don’t really thrill me all that much, so it’s a pretty quick show for me. I got to relive the exhilaration of the F430s I got to drive over the summer and now that it has been shown, I can mention that I got to drive the Maserati Gran Turismo, too. So, when I saw it at the show, I convinced the gal to let me into the booth so I could show my husband the car I’d thought was so nifty. I think my husband would still rather have an Astin. I can’t say which I’d rather have because I haven’t driven the Astin yet…but oh, how I want to.
Of course, I also stopped by the Lotus booth… I love the Elise. Someday, I will definitely own one. Absolutely. It’s not the fastest car on the planet, but it’s unique, sporty and little: Just like me.
I’m gonna get me one of them thar cute little cars… I love ’em!
The other highlight of the show for me was the ’08 Viper. I wanted to see what the new metallic green looked like in person and oh hell yeah, that’s my color for the car.
However, the single most important thing I did at the show was get in the car and ram the seat forward to see if I could easily get the clutch all the way in without sitting on a pillow, without platform shoes, etc.
YES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! See how much distance there is behind the seat? I know it screws up the aesthetics, but darn it all, I’m a little girl, so I’m forced to go to drastic measures to drive a big man’s car. I really don’t care how silly it looks as long as the car go, go, goes!
I’m sure I’ll be getting a green Viper at some point, too. I’ll likely swap my ’03 for it as soon as I can. It’s about time Dodge put an interesting color on the Viper.
Yes Man
This movie stars Jim Carrey. I was in Fun with Dick and Jane a few years ago…which reminds me…that’s another one I need to write up. I’ll have to take a wild guess about exactly when I was on it, though. I really don’t remember details other than where it filmed, it was fall and that I was booked with my Prowler, but got to drive a BMW production vehicle in a couple of takes because they needed a different car in the background and I’d worked with the coordinator before.
Things were different on Yes Man, though. Much different. I recalled from Fun with Dick and Jane that it had been a very long day, so I assumed it’d be more of the same for this gig, too. Comedies often take awhile because the actors will try different ad libs or different ways of delivering the written lines and see what works best. Scenes evolve rather than being static, cut and dried. All of the Will Farrell gigs I’ve been on were like that. To me, it has never been a hardship, either. I like to watch how everything unfolds and morphs and I find it very interesting. Plus, it’s neat to see inside the head of the comedian in those cases because there’s a general brilliance to be seen. It’s truly amazing.
I’ve heard from various people that Jim Carrey is unfunny when the cameras aren’t rolling. I didn’t find that the case. I saw him as very focused and serious, but not unfunny. When you’re making a movie, you can’t be silly all the time or nothing gets done and lots of production money gets wasted…which also makes no sense. Jim Carrey was great. Even when things weren’t going too well, he got over it and got on with the scene. (More on that later.)
I parked. I was shuttled. I went through wardrobe who almost liked what I was wearing. Almost. They were very, very, very picky on this show. I was a coffee house patron. The look was supposed to be very funky, but drab. Those are some of the toughest gigs to dress for. If I’m wearing funky clothes, they’re loud and well…funky…not drab and boring. I did my best, but was still given a shirt off the wardrobe truck. Oh well. I realize that the principle actor was wearing a dark suit for each of the scenes we were working on so if the extras were too bright, we’d accidentally upstage him.
I think, perhaps, my bone to pick isn’t with the costumers themselves, it’s with the vocabulary used by the casting directors when they’re trying to describe what sort of clothes we should bring. Had I been told to bring drab colors with interesting cuts to the garments or perhaps casual, hip grunge I might have faired a little better. But oh well. I got to wear my stuff for the first change and then add their shirt for the second change.
Then there was a little mix-up as to where we were supposed to go–catering or holding. I ended up going to catering, then holding, then catering, then finally to holding. I was okay with that. My only real hang-up was the general disdain for extras on this show. Between one of the costume assistants really talking down to us, the people on the car call who seemed soooooo much better than regular extras, plus the others who’d worked the show before, and a few general comments made by crew members that I’d overheard, I really dreaded working this day. I got out my book on Medieval history and tried to lose myself in it because I just don’t understand the mindset that extras are trash and should be treated as such. Don’t people realize that if they treat us like humans, we’ll act accordingly and even try to be good?
Anyhow, I sat in holding for the first scene, but was used in the second one. In fact, I did a cross right in front of Jim. On the first take, I thought we were going to collide! Doh! He didn’t get mad, so I figured everything was okay. And no one told me to do it differently, so I just tried to stay a little further out of his way. All was well. I did my little cross over and over for all the different camera angles and such. The day was feeling better. One of the ADs and a couple of the PAs were really cool and I appreciated that.
Lunch was good. I didn’t know I was supposed to be segregated on tables without tablecloths in a separate, walled-off part of the catering tent, so I plunked down at a nearly empty table and a group of PAs sat down with me. I had great conversation with a cutie named Tex.
When lunch ended, we were instructed to change clothes. I put on the shirt I got from wardrobe plus my jacket. All was well. I was placed at a table outside the coffee house and did the scene as I normally would. Two paparazzi guys showed up and were quite disruptive. That sucked pretty hard. I felt bad for Jim.
I then went back to holding for the following scene.
And then plans changed a little and all of us extras had to go back to wardrobe for another change. Okay, whatever. I was given another couple of shirts and off I went. We were instructed to stand outside so that the Costume Designer could inspect us again. Okay, now this is where everything went pretty far south for me.
Throughout the day, I was wearing two necklaces–one a choker, the other regular. I had been instructed to keep the same jewelry on through both changes. I did. Then, for this third, unexpected change, the shirts I was given had a higher neckline, so I had to lose the regular necklace. I left the choker on, assuming it’d keep me in that funky look they were going for. But at no time was I instructed anything in particular as far as jewelry went, so I just used my best judgment.
Okay, at the beginning of the day, there was a lot of degradation of the background actors, then it cleared up for me and I wasn’t annoyed anymore even though there were still a few “fuckin’ extras” comments here and there plus a few ridiculous attitudes. But standing there in front of the Costume Designer’s assistant–not the Designer himself, mind you–I heard the most humiliating thing ever said directly to my face. I realize it may not read rude or mean, but she said, “Take off that necklace because sometimes less is more.” with the attitude like I’m too stupid to dress myself.
A simple, “Lose the necklace.” or even, “We don’t need the necklace for this scene.” would have been totally fine. I wear what the costumers tell me to wear. I don’t second guess unless there’s something really lame about what I’ve been instructed to wear (ie. the gigantic scrubs I wore on Numb3rs). I wanted to tell the bitch that I’d been wearing it all day and the reason we were all here was so that she could make those kinds of changes without degrading us, but I was so flabbergasted at how rude she’d been (without even batting an eyelash, like it was totally acceptable to speak to extras like that) that I just unhooked it and tossed it in my purse. When the Designer arrived, he said we all looked wonderful and that it didn’t really matter much because we weren’t really going to be seen anyway. That pretty much shut her up, but she was still looking at the rest of us and still wanting to make us change something.
Even in the morning, when I walked up to the wardrobe truck, I’d sensed that she was one of those costumers who changed extras just for the sake of changing them. I swear some of them do that. They may not realize it, but some of them do. If there are four costumers checking out us extras, I’ve noticed on some shows that there’s one or two who feel like they’re not doing their job if they don’t change anything about what an extra shows up in while others do a thorough once-over and say we’ll pass or maybe ask if we have something simple like a different shirt or pair of pants rather than a complete overhaul. I understand they’re just doing their job, but when I change from one green outfit into another green outfit, I wonder whether they’re really doing their job or just exerting their control over us stupid little fucking extras. Can you tell I was irritated?
It doesn’t even have to do with the fact that I’m very into my clothes and have a wardrobe the size of their truck all in my size at home. (No kidding! Just ask Jen or Jason!) That’s not even what pissed me off. It’s the attitude. Hell, I could be in the position to hire her someday and I sure as hell won’t…and I’ll tell all my friends not to hire her, either. These people should think before they talk down to extras. They really should. They just don’t know who we are or are going to be someday.
So, for that last scene, I was feeling pretty crappy and didn’t want to verbally vent about it… I got out my iPhone instead. Here’s an excerpt of what I wrote during the whole time (At this point, I was playing coffee house patron with iPhone and using it in the scene.):
I am so pissed off right now I could scream. I handled it with grace, but that was fucking mean. Does she really think all extras are stupid? Does she realize that if she showed us some respect, we might try a little harder? …It’s clearly not us, it’s her. I don’t even care if anyone is reading this over my shoulder. I am that pissed off. I’m even writing this between takes I’m so incensed. I want to cleanse this feeling because the day was resurrected until that moment. And I’m almost at 12 hours of being here… This was a record worst. And she clearly felt no remorse at her words. This was an acceptable thing to say to an extra…to another human being. How mean!!!!!!! Venting on my iPhone sure is nice. Then I don’t have to be outwardly grumpy. I can keep this all to myself. Whew… I’ve been treated pretty badly before, but that really took the cake. Seriously. Totally mean…totally rude.
During the scene and in between I got everything out of my system and started feeling much, much better. Here’s some of what I wrote after I calmed down… (the scene itself was going to hell, however.):
Rolling again. Should work great then. Going again. Quick scene. Having trouble tearing a sheet of paper without it going screwy. Rigging in progress. I love Hollywood. Again. I am trying to make it look real. Wide at the beginning. Split second only. The shot is real quick. I don’t think they realize that I’m really writing. This is fun again. My iPhone saved my day. Might not actually still be in it. All well and good to me. I’m having a good time again. I’m so calmed down now, I want to sleep. I like this, though. Makes me feel better. Got to IM with Jason during a take or two. He just randomly SMSed me during the scene. That was funny. Day’s getting long, but I’m totally okay with that. Sometimes it’s the little scenes that stick. Still going. Not too bad, though. Having a good enough time. Enjoying what I can while I can. Maybe I could use some caffeine. Broke a prop. Had to fix. Back in action. Slow going. Going. Going. Gah. And again. Long day getting longer. Painful for the crew. Painful for the actors. Been on worse, though. West Wing with Rob Lowe was worse because the scene was longer. It’s just the way it happens sometimes. And it happens all the time. I’m totally okay with it. A couple keep having to go in and out. They’re not thrilled. Yay! Got a great one, too.
Each of those sentences represents a take, I’m pretty sure. The trouble was with the action that Jim was trying to do. The props just weren’t agreeing with him and such a simple scene dragged on and on and on and on. But in the end, we had a really great take and then everyone was wrapped.
I can laugh about it now, but that’s the only part of being a background actor that I truly hate. People make assumptions that simply shouldn’t be made. I’ve met plenty of other extras who are producers, have gone on to bigger and better things, who are very important people and do extra work for fun. It makes no sense to treat us like shit. It makes no sense to treat anyone like shit. If it weren’t for the attitudes, this gig would have been absolutely fine. Sure, that last scene was a killer, but during it, there weren’t any anti-extra attitudes, so I was totally fine enduring all the troubles of the uncooperative pieces of paper and cork board. In fact, I can’t wait to see the finished product because the premise sounds great: A guy who used to say no, says yes to everything for a year.
Deja Vu 2003 ~ SoCal Fire and Havoc
As I write this, friends of mine are being evacuated from their homes due to all the wildfires burning throughout Southern California.
In 2003, I was in the same boat. ‘Cept, I was working on a movie called Havoc.
This year, I’m hoping for the best. It seems worse this time, though. I dunno why, it just does. I’m also hearing that more homes are either threatened or have already burned. Maybe that’s why it seems worse.
In 2003, Jen and I were working on Angel In Moonlight. She called me asking when I was going to send her whatever the scene we were working on and I said, “Ummm, Jen…I’m packing up my dolls. There are helicopters over my house at all hours and I’m probably gonna have to evacuate. It’s gonna be a little while before you get the scene back.” It hadn’t hit her until that very moment that my house was threatened.
What’s kinda odd is that it actually still hadn’t hit me yet! I was packing stuff up, but I didn’t actually feel threatened. It didn’t hit until the fireman came into my house, telling me that I really needed to get my stuff and get out. But also, once it hit me, it was so out of my control anyway that I forced myself to shrug it off and cross my fingers that everything would be okay. I just went on with my life–modifying plans as necessary. I couldn’t come up with anything better to do with my evacuation time.
Right now, for me, the scariest thing is that the wind is blowing toward my house. There are two fires in my area. One would have to go through the whole city before it got to my place, so I’m not real worried about that one. The other, well, it’s close to the area that burned in 2003. It’d still take a few days to get all the way over here, though. I’m not hearing helicopters non-stop, so that’s encouraging. I’m worried for friends, not myself.
But, bottom line, now that I’ve been through it once, I’m much better prepared. I know more about what to expect if I have to pack up my stuff (turtles and tortoises included!) and evacuate.
Leeloo’s Wig
One of the main identifying characteristics of Leeloo is her orange hair. I’d assumed that finding an orange wig wouldn’t be that difficult.
It wasn’t…
However, finding one that was a deeper orange than traffic-cone, fluorescent orange proved to be much more difficult. And since the wig had to be reasonably precise, I couldn’t just surf the ‘net for one. But I also didn’t know where to go other than Hollywood Blvd. That was the only place I’d seen more than two wig shops within about five blocks of each other.
However, whenever I’m anywhere in the vicinity of a vintage shop, I can’t resist the magnetic pull. I must go in. I must shop. I rarely walk out empty-handed, but it has happened a few times. On the day I got the wig, I also found this beautiful *cough, cough* peacock jumpsuit.
Oddly enough, about six months later, I found a dress made from the same fabric. I’ll be merging the two garments eventually. Right now, they grace my crap room with the rest of my projects in various states of not done/not started/I dunno what this was for, but it was nifty, so I acquired it because it was cheap.
So, after going to all the shops and sighing because they just didn’t have a short orange wig, I settled on a longer wig–more expensive, of freakin’ course–that I’d swindle my hair dresser into cutting. The styling would happen over the course of two weeks, with lots of hair gel, bobby pins, and T-pins. The wig experience was the easiest piece.
Actually, that’s a lie. The boots were the easiest: I walked into my closet and picked out the pair that looked the most like Cancan shoes and the boots Leeloo wore in the movie. I had about fifteen pairs of black boots to choose from. This was not a difficult decision, either, because I still had to be able to dance in the boots, too. (More on my shoes and boots collection in future posts, I’m sure.)
The Changeling
This is a first for me. I’m writing this a couple days after this shoot actually happened, but not posting it until after I’m supposed to be back on the show. There were very strict rules and a lot of paparazzi on this show and rightfully so. I don’t want to jeopardize my returning for the second part of this gig. There’s always a significant chance that I won’t be recalled, but since I really want to come back, I’m not taking any chances! This was an awesome day for me.
It took an eternity to get to the set because the freeway by my house lost a few lanes in a tunnel fire and it hasn’t been repaired yet. But I did get where I needed to be on time at least. I’d left early enough.
I parked. I was shuttled. I got my wardrobe (1928…I’d been fitted a few weeks earlier). I got into my clothes. The costumers let me use my only 1920s purse (YippieYay!). I was shuttled to holding. I had my hair done (well, the lady made it look appropriately yucky and messed up for the role). I walked to make-up and something interesting happened.
Normally, I don’t wear make-up. I might put on eyeliner twice a month for the fun of it, but I’m really inexperienced when it comes to putting on make-up and for this show, there was a whole list of instructions on how to do it. I was terrified and didn’t feel comfortable doing it myself, so I packed a few things into a little bag and brought it with me to show that I wasn’t trying to be difficult, I just suck at make-up. Well, when I sat down in the make-up lady’s chair, she didn’t say a thing about me not wearing any make-up. I silently yelped for joy.
I’ve got a red spot on the bridge of my nose which make-up artists usually spackle over immediately, so I wasn’t surprised when the make-up lady went right for it with a brush… Except the palate she was working from had all these crazy colors like blue and purple and dark green and various shades of red.
She wasn’t covering my red spot, she was using it! I was now the proud owner of a slightly bloody nose!
Then, she darkened the circles under my eyes a little and made my cheek look like someone had punched it a day or two ago. Woohoo!!!!!! Best make-up experience I’ve had in a very long time. First blood since Angel, too.
I then walked back to holding while getting many a strange look. Yay!
I sat in holding for what felt like eternity but was perhaps a couple hours. It was a pretty nice day. Not too hot, not too cold. Same holding I’d been in when I worked on the Ring II, except the set wasn’t a women’s home in present day, it was a loony bin in 1928. I was what was called a Code 12 patient which means that I probably wasn’t crazy, but I was perhaps having a bad PMS day and my husband called the asylum to take me away because I was being rowdy.
Clint Eastwood is directing and has a different, much quieter style than every other set I’ve been on. Usually, there’s a lot of yelling of commands and such. On his set, there’s a peaceful respect and serenity that comes from speaking rather than yelling. I wish more sets were like that. It was because of that lack of yelling that I hadn’t even realized they’d started filming for about an hour into the time.
When I was finally brought to set, Mr. Eastwood watched us all go up the stairs and then as we awaited further instructions, picked me to be in the front. I was, after all, the only one with blood on my face. I really looked like I’d seen better days. There was a principle actress fourth in line behind myself and two other extras. Our action was simply to walk down the stairs because we’d been freed. Angelina Jolie’s character had gotten us outta there and she was at the base of the stairs, but we weren’t instructed to react to her, so we guessed that we didn’t know it was by her doing that we got out of there.
Some sort of moment between the principle actress and Angelina happened, but that was the extent of the whole thing. We were all just supposed to keep on walking past her and down the sidewalk.
This was the first set I’ve been on where a rather large group of paparazzi showed up–complete with rocket-launcher-sized lenses on their cameras. They were seriously slimy and had no consideration for anyone who was working there. They didn’t even get out of the way when locals with strollers were trying to use the sidewalk. How very rude.
I suppose some of the tight security rules were because of those people, but I’m not sure. I’d just never been on a set with so many specific rules about things we could do, couldn’t do, identification regulations, all sorts of stuff. I was okay with it all, but I also found it a bit tiresome and annoying. I mean, why can’t people just be good so we don’t have one or two spoiling everything for the rest of us?
Anyhow, I spent a few hours or so leading the group of extras down the stairs in each take. It was great. I got within about three feet of Angelina Jolie and John Malkovich and about a foot away from Mr. Eastwood–whom I can now also add to the list of celebrities who have spoken to me. Yay!
If this scene makes it into the final picture, there’s a great chance that at least one frame of me will, too. That’d be nice.
The Original Design of Cancan Leeloo
Found amid the wreckage that is my craft room (affectionately dubbed the “Crap Room” by my husband–and rightfully so. The room is always a pig sty because ‘creative messiness is better than tidy idleness’.) is the original design for my Cancan Leeloo costume as drawn by Shawn Crosby.
As soon as it came out of the printer, we decided that the black ruffle hanging out of the bottom had to go. Other than that, the stylized elements we’d talked about worked great. In the movie, Leeloo’s wearing a shirt and baring her midriff. With my corset, that wasn’t possible, so we figured we’d try the opposite–bare my shoulders as much as possible and hide my midriff (and corset).
In the drawing, the skirt’s a little long, too. Oops. The pattern we had for it was the correct length. If it was too long, I wouldn’t be able to easily lean over and grab it to hold it up…well…as easy as it can be while wearing in a corset!
From here, I considered fabrics and colors. The shirt was going to be white. the suspenders, wrist bands and skirt accents were to be orange vinyl. The skirt itself needed to be more of a champagne than yellow. I was on my own for the bloomers and stockings underneath. I chose more orange satin and some black and white fun stuff for trim.
The stockings…well…I’d never done anything like those before. I knew I needed something super stretchy. Hmmm…How about this $1/yard stuff I’d gotten 10 yards of ’cause I thought it was kinda neat but was now collecting dust and getting in the way? (I do that a lot…hence one of the many reasons the craft room is the crap room.)
So, that was my game plan. I also had some white, ribbed cotton knit (also purchased in a $1/yard binge and collecting dust while getting the way) to use on the shirt.
But what I needed in order to really do it right was a coverlock machine… Best investment ever in my sewing hobby. Yeah, I was a very happy girl once that thing arrived and after I spent the eon figuring out how to thread it for what I needed it to do.
I think I’ll stop here on this journey and break it up a little. There’s still many more posts to be done from wig to boots on this costume!
Superhero
This was the second time I was called to Universal Studios for a car call. I’ve driven on the lot before (Desperate Housewives, Serenity), but when I’m booked with a car, for some reason strange things happen. For instance, on Where The Truth Lies, I almost drove through the stretch of road where the Red Sea parts!
On this movie, I was booked with my ’06 Mustang just like on G-Force. Yeah, lots of car calls lately. I dunno why, either. It seems to go in waves.
I ended up following a production truck onto the lot, so I didn’t accidentally drive to the Red Sea again. And to be honest, after parking on New York Street, checking in, going through wardrobe, I was still bummed that I missed the Red Sea! ‘Cause this time, if I’d’ve accidentally landed at that path again, I’d’ve totally driven through. That’s one of the things I wished I’d done. Oh well. Better luck next time. This was only a 1-day call.
I’m honestly not sure how it happened, but I didn’t work the whole day. I missed the first setup because I was in my car. I tried to be in the next one, but the camera guys said not to bother with the foreground crosses because the camera couldn’t see them. After that, I stayed near the AD, but somehow never got used. Yeah, I was sitting in doorways, up steps, but not because I was hiding. I was just trying to stay out of the sun. If I’d’ve been asked to jump in the scene, I’d’ve so totally done it.
Anyway, I ended up finishing Terry Jones’ Medieval Lives and starting another called Medieval Times. Sensing a theme perhaps? Terry Jones is an amazing writer. I love his stuff. It’s the best non-fiction to have on set because I don’t think he could write dryly even if he tried!
The other book is also well done. I got almost half way through! Off the top of my head, though, I can’t remember the author. The book was first printed in 1968 and surprisingly isn’t dry. There’s not much worse than trying to read dry non-fiction while on set. It makes staring off into boredom space preferable to reading the words.
My car might’ve actually made it in frame. At the top of the day, they had me pull it out because that was where they wanted the camera. It wasn’t until after lunch that they wanted my car back on the street.
Speaking of lunch… I dunno why, but it was really, really good! Herbed potatoes, breadsticks with baked-on cheese and my favorite rare steak with chimichuri. I think mostly, it was just that everything was cooked how I like it, using ingredients I like over most others, etc. that kind of thing. Everything was food I’d already had, just not on set. I didn’t even touch the salad bar or the dessert bar because I was enjoying the steak and potatoes so much. There was also fish and chicken available, but I wanted steak. The chimichuri was so good I looked up a recipe on my iPhone so I can make some at home.
Strange little day I had… From the not hardly working, to so much reading, to the awesome lunch…
What? You say I mentioned having an odd driving experience at the beginning of this and then never got back to it?
Well… The whole day, I was bummed that I’d missed the Red Sea, but it wasn’t like I was going to go try and drive through it at the end of the day. The trams were running and plus, there was still a lot of light and I didn’t want to get in trouble.
In fact, I was parked on a small block that the trams passed right by as they went in and out of the King Kong stage. After studying the map, I planned out the best way to get off the lot.
And at the first intersection screwed up which right turn I was supposed to take.
I drove past more stages…offices…shops…through the golf cart depot tunnel thingie…and eventually, the asphalt became reddish cement. And there was a trashcan–the kind you push the swinging door open and then put your tray on top of. And there was a maze of metal pipes.
Like the kind for standing in line for a ride!
OH SHIT! I was about to drive into the theme park itself! Gah!
I threw the car into reverse and backed outta there so fast! I didn’t get in trouble because only one preoccupied guy in a golf cart saw me, but I was terrified.
I did, finally, find the road I was supposed to’ve taken and then got myself off the lot. Whew!
There’s just something about the Universal Lot and me having car calls on it. I can’t even begin to imagine what’s gonnna happen next time…