"They're Gonna Put Me In The Movies...Part Deux"

I believe I mentioned in one or two of my past posts that I never learn. Sure enough, when I saw a desperate plea for extras for a local movie by none other than Butch "Anyone can make a movie with actual money!" Maier, I felt that I owed him a favor after my last appearance in his film "The Head Of The Company" and volunteered. Now, if you didn't know it, my performance in "Head" had been the subject of some critical acclaim, "Two thumbs up for the follically challenged Bob L" Siskel and Ebert, even though Mr. Siskel is technically deceased it was the thought that counts. "Bob's performance makes you almost wish you were bald yourself" wrote Rex Reed for Variety. Mr Reed may also be technically dead, but I'm not sure, then there was this: "Bob's performance does for bald men what George W. Bush did for political integrity", Joe Fabeets for the Tipp City Picayune.

So I was feeling pretty good about myself when I finally found my way to the United Church of Christ in Bath, Ohio, thanks to (I swear this is true) the help of a guy, roughly 45 years old, in a Boy Scout uniform who was standing on a rural road in the middle of Noplace, Ohio directing traffic around some sort of bicycle race. I thought it was a dream, but he actually did give me pretty good directions.

Now the person in charge of getting extras, the mysterious "Krista S" whose organizing philosophy can be best summed up as "These people are so desperate for their 15 minutes of fame, or who have no actual lives, I can tell them anything and they will do it," had emailed us all several times with instructions that sounded very authoritative. "YOU MUST ARRIVE NO LATER THAN 9:00 A.M. OR YOU'RE OUT OF THE MOVIE, DON'T WEAR ANY REDS, WHITES OR BLACKS OR YOU'LL BE OUT OF THE MOVIE AND ALL EXTRAS MUST NOT GO TO THE BATHROOM FOR A MINIMUM OF 3 DAYS OR..." made us feel very secure this film was going to run like a taut ship indeed. What it actually turned out to be, and probably why we only knew her as "Krista S" (if that is her real initial), was that she was actually Butch's "Chief Assistant in Charge of Crapola." That was because none of the rules were followed with the exception of the one about the bathroom.

I arrived at 8:45 a.m. per Commandant Krista's instructions, and proceeded to become involved in the three things extras must do best. That is, wait! And wait some more and finally, er, um, wait. While the other extras and I waited in the church conference room, the good folks of the church held their worship services. And sure enough, Butch and the rest of the crew and cast arrived at the crack of 10:30. I think that Butch had become desperate for extras because he had coerced the pastor into soliciting the some of the braver of the church congregation to stay and be in the movie, upon pain of purgatory (either that or he won them in a card game). He said he could do it too, because he knew God personally.

After the services, the extras were finally told to go the sanctuary and fill up the pews. That was so Butch could film some shots of a wedding scene, which was probably appropriate as the tentative name of the movie is "The Bride and Grooms." It was at this point I learned another bit of cinematic trickery, which was cramming 100 people into two rows of pews designed to hold 10 people so that we appeared to be a well dressed mob of 500 attending a beautiful wedding.

However, I must admit that Butch has come up in the world and I became impressed that his film budget must have increased to maybe $20.00 because he had three (count 'em) actual camera's, a real boom microphone, a makeup lady and a few dozen gophers. It was just before the first "take" that the actors came in to line up at the altar that I was wondering whether they were actually going to act, or whether they were preparing to be linemen for the Cleveland Clowns, er, Browns. When the were coming in they were bobbing, weaving and jumping up and down like prizefighters coming into the ring, and at one point the hero, at least I think he was the hero, head butted another actor delaying filming for first aid.

At last we began shooting, which gave Butch the opportunity to practice his "one more time" slogan. It also gave the extras the chance to ruin their various leg muscles and joints by standing up and sitting down roughly 3,000 times (or one more time x 3,000) for the critical "The Bride Breaks Down and Sprints Back Up the Aisle" scene. During one of the three million breaks I had the opportunity to meet Butch's mother who (not surpising given Butch's huge budget) also volunteering as an extra. She is a kind lady (she must be as she complimented my first post on Butch's first movie see http://aging-disgracefully.blogspot.com/2007_02_01_archive.html ) and not at all the type that would rear a son who would make a knowing career choice in felonious aggravated movie making. In fact, her daughter, evidently the "bright one" has actually done something productive with her life and is actually helping people better their lives.

After the church scenes we meandered over to the fellowship hall for lunch and break, during which I did several crossword puzzles, chatted with some of the other extras and watched Pastor Bob clean out several extras in a seven card stud game. A couple of the extras I spoke with, Claudia and Cindy, were from Lakewood, or Rocky River, or some darn place. Anyway they would fit in well with the Bobcat crowd as from what I gather they are funny, sarcastic and a propensity to enjoy a beverage or two. In fact, the most productive part of the day for me was when Claudia, obviously the ringleader and most streetwise of the two, gave me several restaurant suggestions for the west side.

Just before doing the reception scene we were all told to change clothes and take a break before dinner. We had two hours to kill. So I tried to relax and take a nap in my car, however, God had essentially used the parking lot as a steel furnace that afternoon, so after about ten minutes of sitting in the shade and still sweating like a congressman in front of an ethics committee, I decided to forget and go inside and change. It was at this time I heard, over my right shoulder coming from a residence which had been shielded from my view by large hedges, the sound of at least two dogs barking and sprinting to find the source of the "car door slamming which means there may be some moron threatening our territory sound" and I turned just in time to see Fluffy and Snowball scramble around the corner of the hedges, tripping over each other and yapping like the pesty little anthills of fur they were and froze about 10 yards away. However, I could still hear barking. Real barking. And about 3 hours later, having been slowed considerably by his massive bulk, around the hedge came the third dog, Luca. Luca was some sort of cross between a rotweiller, saber toothed tiger and Dick Cheney, so you can imagine my sheer, stark terror. Luca stopped in front of his minute brethren and intermittently barked, growled and slobbered at me as I stood frozen like a statue. After what seemed a lifetime I finally heard a lady calling the names of the dogs and telling them, in vain of course, to COME HOME THIS INSTANT! And since these particular canines were operating 1 molecule of actual brain matter and a zillion gallons of adrenaline, I was not surprised that they just ignored her. After another lifetime the woman came around the hedge and started to drag the still clamoring mongrels back toward their home. I could hear her voice a thousand miles away, telling me the dogs wouldn't harm a fly. Also, I heard her say something about not knowing there was anybody there in the church parking lot. I could understand that since it was Sunday, and why in the world would ANYBODY BE IN A CHURCH PARKING LOT ON SUNDAY! At this point, I most definitely needed a change of clothes, change of scene or not.

While at the fellowship hall we were to portray attendees at the wedding reception and look stunned. This was the easy part, as I was stunned when I came out of the womb. Also at one point the extras were supposed to "dance" for reality purposes, I guess, but having the rhythm God gave gravel I politely demurred. No amount of encouraging waving from the mob of extras, Butch or unlimited Wild Turkey could persuade me to "act" like I was dancing. At least not in front of cameras where there would be a permanent record. Anyway the dancing scene was only done 200 "one more times."

Finally the shooting for the day was complete and Butch mercifully told us that we could now leave as the armed guards would let us leave. After scouring the parking lot for the terrible canine trio, I slinked (or should that be slunk) to my car, quietly opened the door and quietly started same, figuring Luca's teeth could easily shred mere steel, and eased onto the highway for the hour long drive home.
All in all it was a good experience, the congregation of the church were kind and generous in their volunteering, and Pastor Bob even allowed some of the card game participants leave with their pants. Me, I'm not sure how I'll explain to Sandy why I came home wearing a barrel.
Moral: Never play cards with someone who has God slipping him aces.

Love
Dad