A Confederacy of Extras

Hello loyal readers. I'm just sitting here in the Second City Box Office on a frigid Saturday afternoon. Nothing more than two plate glass doors separates me from -24 degree wind-chill. So I feel that it behooves me to follow up on my last post. As an astute reader reminded me, I omitted the most interesting part of the War of 1812. Now, all Canadians (self included) are quite familiar with this historical fact, but no mention of the War is complete without boldly stating - WE CANADIANS BURNED DOWN THE WHITE HOUSE! Seriously. Eat it American readership.

For this past week, I've been promising to log an entry regarding my extra work. Eagle-eyed readers may have noticed the picture at the end of my Wednesday entry: This is a picture of Ricky Gervais from the genius BBC comedy series Extras. As I have discovered, Mr. Gervais' hilarious and surreal exploits in the world of "background artistry" are not terribly far from the truth (except the hilarious part). By the by, if you ever want to see the first series of Extras, I still have it burned on my iBook, and will happily share.

(for the record, I started writing this post at approximately 1:30 in the afternoon. It is currently 8:46 pm)

As for my extra job, it all started with me being broke. Not quite "selling my own teeth for rent" broke, but less financially secure than I'd prefer (stop hyperventilating, Mom). This economic downturn led me to look for a new part-time job, or at least led me to talk about looking for another job for the better part of January. At one point, it was suggested by several friends that I might look into extra work. As I am an ACRTA Apprentice (Canadian Film and Television Actor's Union, thankyouverymuch) the pay is actually quite reasonable, quite agreeable, considering an extra's job is the very definition of easy. Basically, you stand in the background of a shot while much better paid actors go about the business of actually acting. Provided that you can stand in the periphery and not draw any attention to yourself, you're already doing the job. Essentially an extra's job is to professionally exist.

So I signed up with several extra agencies (no rules govern how many one can register with, thus an enterprising actor can truly become a mercenary-for-hire). It was only 5 days later that I got my first call. I did find it curious that I was being called with an offer of work from a woman I had never met. Picture applying for a job that literally every human being is qualified for. Since it doesn't matter who they hire, they can literally offer the day's work to anyone. And that day I was that anyone.

So I showed up at the set 15 minutes early for my 10am call. Since this is a Disney Channel show set in a high school, the only directive I was given was a dire warning to arrive clean-shaven. Little do they know, I could not successfully grow facial hair if the fate of the free world hung in the balance. So I arrived at the studio, in actuality a refurbished textile factory in downtown Toronto. I found my way to the "Background Holding" area, a term which conjures up (well-deserved) images of livestock holding pens. The entire room appeared to be built from discarded plywood (which didn't even reach the ceiling), and church-basement folding tables - it was an 18-foot cubed chicken coop. I myself would much prefer being a free-range extra, but I don't think they exist. Surveying my fellow 25 or so extras, everyone seemed to look the part of a high school student (with the exception of 2 teacher-extras). I did find it amusing that no single person in the room was wearing eye glasses (self included). I always find this when I encounter a "professional" actor crowd. Everyone is dressed up as much as the part will allow, and no one wants to admit that they wear glasses. I only noticed this because at a recent "Lord of the Things" rehearsal I realized that everyone in the room was wearing glasses. Conclusion: All improvisers are nerds.

Once our clothing choices had been inspected by Midori from wardrobe (no skin - again, Disney) we were on our way to the set. The high school set of "Life With Derek" consists of one short hallway, a mildly impressive lobby, a modest cafeteria, and a principal's office (which is evidently the setting of many scenes - oh that Derek!). It's weird enough going back to your own high school, but going to a pretend high school (and only half of one at that!) is truly strange.

But soon came the most important part of the day - lunch. Apparently extras can get fed very well, or very not (this day was the former). I always have the problem at buffets of not being able to narrow down my choices - instead of one meal, I opt to eat little bits of everything which looks appetizing (the sum of which usually adds up to 2 1/2 meals). I ate a not-too-shabby meal of chick peas, Greek salad, garden salad, bean salad, steamed veggies, wild rice, a slab of roast beef the size of a Gideon Bible, a chicken breast, a tasty roll, baked potatoes, carrots, orange juice, a delightful cookie, a modest piece of coffee cheese cake, and some actual coffee. And to think, I was being paid to eat all this.

I met lots of fairly interesting people on my set day. Given that most of the extras were playing high school students, none of them were old enough to be the squirrelly "lifer" extras that people always talk about. There was Gregory, the teacher extra who had also played a zombie in "Resident Evil 2: Apocalypse". Dan, the 20-year-old York University acting undergrad/ veteran extra. Taylor, the cute 3rd A.D. with the tiniest eyebrows I've ever seen. And from all these people, I came to one conclusion - all actors talk about is acting. But not the art and craft and thrill of acting, no - the boring business crap. ALL THE TIME. Endless circular discussion of pay scales, overtime, schedules, agencies, unions, substantial meals, travel time, series regulars, headshots, make up, deductions, meal vouchers, wrap times, wardrobe calls, dues, specialty wardrobes, regular wardrobes, and finally, commercials. Ugh. It's enough to make me want to chuck it all in and become a legal clerk or something. Eventually, the monontony gets so bad that you will obey orders from anyone with a headset. People played an hour long game of Texas hold'em poker while we waited in the holding pen-sorry, room. Time literally crawled.

In the end though, it was definitely worth it. I can honestly say it was the easiest money I've ever made, and that's nothing to sneeze at. I got to read another hundred pages of A Confederacy of Dunces (I highly recommend it) and made some overtime. Now, if only I could get some real work.



ps. The time is currently 2:08 am.