It stands for Hates People

I had a laptop. It wasn't great, but it was nice. It allowed me to play some of my older games when I was at work (I'm totally a gaming addict, and I don't care) and I could get the real internet and not the crappy work internet that doesn't let you do anything actually useful. I could write on it, stay connected, you know, it did the things computers do.

Then it died.

I won't go into details. Really, I can't because it makes me physically ill to think about it, but basically HP sucks the big one. Service and Support should really be Shitting on Suckers. Not only was it impossible to understand them, but just when you think the next call can't get any worse, they went and screwed it up more. I took it to someone and they told me what I didn't want but needed to hear: she's dead, Jim. Cost more to fix than replace. that was more than a week ago.

TODAY I get a call from a Customer Service Manager from here in the good ol' U.S. of A. Here's what I basically told him:

"While I do not hold you personally responsible, your company's claims of caring about your customers is completely invalid. If I had to wait this long to reach someone who could understadn me, you've failed. The BBB already has my complaint. I even sucked it up and bought a new HP from Best Buy and guess what. I'm in the parking lot right now to return it. It runs like a donkey, it already locked up twice. I contacted your crappy tech support a week ago and haven't heard from them. Thank you, HP, for sending me back to Dell."

To Best Buy's credit, they didn't even try to charge a restocking fee.

In lighter news, I saw the lady friend's production of Baby yesterday. Amazing. God, that girl's good. I barely even liked the music before yesterday, despite auditioning for it. It's also interesting to be at a cast party for a show you weren't in. I've done this before, but this is the first time I've really thought about this. Every production has its own secret language, sayings and instances that you had to be a part of to understand. I didn't know it, and I miss it.

Lord please, don't give me the theater bug again. I'm barely done with all the $%^&ing weddings.

Also, welcome Stephon to my list of blogs. Just looking at how long you've had it, I'll still be trying to catch up on your blog when I'm having my first bypass.

Wake up with a YARRR!

What did you do for International Talk Like a Pirate Day? I'm stuck working, but you should drink rum and wear an eyepatch. I pitched in by getting everyone else here to talk like a pirate. "Poop deck" jokes never get old.

Some of the movies I've been in are nearing completion. Let the salivating begin. This brings me to...

A Letter to Directors/Filmmakers from the "Talent"

Part III: Post Production

So now my part is pretty much done. Other than some things I'll get to later, you really don't need me anymore, do you? I've said my lines, emoted my...emotions. We've been up ridiculously late hours together, eaten bad food together, joked, argued, and hopefully had a good time.

Please don't forget about me.

To date I can think of one, that's right one, director who has given me or any of a cast updates on their own. As far as it seems to me there are two times a director contacts the cast.

1. We bug them for an update.
2. We're needed to fix something. (Reshoots, ADR)

I'm an understanding guy. The rush and excitement of production is over, it's just you alone with your footage. Sometimes a lot of footage. We all have bills to pay or classes to pass. I didn't do it for money or fame, so there's no real deadline for me. I understand that there are snags. Computer snafus alone can lengthen a project by weeks. I get it.

Email isn't hard.

Once a month, once every six weeks, I don't care. A simple mass email, "Still working on it, haven't forgotten it," will work. If you have to abandon it I'll be disappointed but am I going to put a gun to your head and make you finish it?

On the subject of reshoots and ADR, all I want is some heads up time. Really, after not talking to me for a year don't ask me if I'm free in two days to shoot more stuff two hours away. I might say no on principle alone. (I'm not saying this happened, but I'm not saying it didn't.) What if I grew my hair out? Shaved it? Lost my right arm and half my head in a freak train accident? Got a tattoo of green rhinoceros on my face? These are possibilities. A little lead time is kind of necessary.

So, updates and lead time. What does that leave us with?

COPY

Yeah, that's what I want. I didn't drive all over, stay up through the middle of the night, take vacation days, or get myself sick so you could get an A in your film class. I did it so I could act, and learn from that acting. And maybe, if we all pulled off something nice, have something for a reel. So I need something tangible. It's called a DVD.

(I certainly do hope you got an A though.)

Another thing that would be nice is some kind of feedback. How was I to have around? Would you recommend me? Where can I improve? You might find this hard to believe, but asking me the same questions might be useful to you. Some of us have been doing this for a long time. We might have some insights you can take along with you.

Remember, actors are a strange community. You as the filmmaker/director might feel that the power is in your hands when it comes to casting your next project, but if I'm respected among my peers and feel that you don't hold up your end of the bargain, you might find it hard when you're looking to fill your next roles. I'm just sayin'.

Well, I hope this has all been helpful. Don't take it too hard if you feel I've ranted. I'm not bitter. This whole 'letter' has been a list of things I've wanted to say to different people at different periods. I hope some directors out there read this, and by reading it gain a little insight into how the 'actor creature' works. We're fun, really.

And to the actors out there who read this, feel free to add your thoughts or suggestions to this letter. Write your own, I'd love to hear your thoughts on it. Come to think of it, directors too.

Now I'm off to hoist the mainsail ye' scurvy skalawags, there be a bit o' a meal waitn fer me.

YAR!!

I promised some description of the actual shooting of this movie, so I'll at least give you some of my thoughts.

First: Boy they spend money like it grows on trees. To think in any other business the kind of delays that they weren't fazed by, that cost them tens of thousands of dollars...it just wouldn't happen. I suppose when you HAVE money it isn't such a big deal.

Second: The 'stars.' They were good. Very good. Better than I've seen from people out here in the wilderness of Western MA? Can't really say so. Makes a fella wonder what would happen if he took the big shot at it.

Third: The PA's and AD's. You know, everything I've heard and read about being an extra made me leery of them. I gotta tell ya, they were AWESOME. They were never less than positive and usually seemed to be having a really good time. I was mentioning this to a PA (or extra wrangler, as I call them in my head) who was over and above cool and he said, "Hey, we're making movies. It's supposed to be a fun job. Us guys want it to be fun for everyone."

There was a band in some of these scenes, and they hired a real band, but the band never actually plays anything. The horn section couldn't...well...not play when they were together all that time. In holding they'd do a name-that-tune of your favorite movie themes and TV shows. Personal favorite: The Simpsons and the Star Wars Cantina. Every now and agian they'd get...into it. Next thing you know there's a full on Cajun horn jam happening. When the doors burst open you expected hellfire and damnation from the AD, but he couldn't get the smile off his face it was so much fun. So he'd clap for them and then plead for quiet. Good times.

I'm not sure how or why but I made, apparently, a favorable impression on the casting director. More work. Sweeeet.

Oh yeah, the shameless hitting on of young ladies reached a peak on the last day. Whoa. Now I wasn't cruising for the ladies on the shoot, but I felt like taking some of these guys by the shoulders and telling them to get some game or get the hell off the field. I would, really I would, tell you some of these openers but I just don't think you'd believe me. (Here's a tip fellas, don't start a come-on with, "I'm not coming on to you but...") Ah, the smell of desperation.

In both an effort to keep posting and an influx of new things to write about, I have stuff to tell you.

My extra experience on this set has been almost completely the opposite of my last one. It's a big movie, with big names, and apparently well run. There are things to do, food to eat, and chairs to sit on. Most importantly, there are people whom I enjoy being around. (Is that the right use of whom?)

Unfortunately for me, Boston is a two hour ride each way. Unless it's between 630 and 900 in the morning. Then it's a three hour drive. I got there late the first day, freaking out. No need, there were still twenty people in line waiting to sign in. Originally I thought this was a smaller scene but there were close to three hundred extras there. My first thought was, fine. It'll be a good experience to learn what these big sets are about. I ran into one acquaintance from a movie I did in November, he's since become SAG. Something of a raise of the eyebrow there. I haven't actually been pursuing the unions yet, but this guy, well, let's say I realized that it wasn't WHAT you know. Turns out there were a sh$tload of SAGers there. (Duh) All of them local. I felt like I'd just pulled my head out of the sand.

I settled in for a long day of sitting around. I had my book and was looking for a place to sit when I walked by a PA who tapped me and said to go out to another spot to learn the next scene. Cooool. Not an upgrade or anything. Just a brief bit that would be an integral part of a scene where they needed a bunch of extras. (Background Artists, as some people put it, all I can do is shake my head) After that a big scene was about to go up and they started pairingus off as couples. That's when I met my first snarky companion. E, as we'll call her, was tons of fun. As completely sarcastic, fun, and funny to be around as the best I've met. She already knew everyone on the crew and some of the producers, and had a bunch of experience in doing these things, so it was great to pick her brain and realize most of my preconceptions were pretty much on the mark. We bonded in our annoyance at the pretentious SAG extras and the camera-whoring, upgrade-seeking non-unioners like myself. Hm, let me explain.

I'm very pro-union, don't get me wrong. My entire professional life I've been a union member. I've been a shop steward. The protections that SAG get are hard earned and well deserved. It's the 'I'm SAG so everything's my way' attitude that kills me. I don't care about the union vs non-union lunch service line, I hate the woman who sits down at the table declaring it was an atrocity she had to wait for an extra half-hour in the SAG line for her salmon. Then there was the guy who demanded that the non-unioners get to the back of the line at the end of the day to turn in wardrobe. The PA's were kind of forced to do it at that point, I guess. Those are the people that make unions look bad. At least they were fun to scorn.

As a non-union actor, I know exactly what it's like to feel like the bottom of the barrel on the shoot. Last called, last taken care of. Everyone wants to join but no one's opening the doors. The fabled 'voucher' as the carrot on the stick we all chase. I know. I want it too. The pay difference alone is astonishing. But haranguing the crew, producers, and casting director aren't the way to get there. I overheard the casting director telling an assistant about a person form the day before who came to him and said, "I was here all day and didn't get used. I sat around until midnight, can I get a voucher?" Puh-leeze. I know I'll eventually get it. Of course it might take some time. I'd rather show myself as a good sport, easy to work with, and understanding when things go wrong. If you want me, come and get me. If you come in the room and you ask if people want to be in the scene, my hand will be raised. I will not harass the AD's to see if I'm (snort) needed.

Which brings me to Meatballs. These are the people you find on every set. The ones who are completely unaware that they are being asses, loud, pretentious or just plain idiots. The ones who shamelessly hit on every one who crosses their path. The ones who don't know how to *shut the fuck up* when you're supposed to be pantomiming clapping, then bark at another extar for dioing something wrong next to him. (I am totally not specifically referring to someone. Not at all. Really. Wouldn't dream of it.) The ones who see you reading your book but will never stop telling you another story. The ones who 'really shouldn't be here, it's beneathe me.'

By the end of day 2 E and I had assembled a group of snarky compadres. We had our corner, or table. If you weren't on of the Snarkalicious Crew and tried to sit at the table, or joing the discussion, you were given something of a brief trial period. Upon the slightest whiff of Meatball the whole crew became silent. No conversation. Not rude, just..nothing. Once we were oviously uninteresting or, more importantly to said Meatball, uninterested in them, they would move on, and we could continue our merry conversation. Our favorite was the difficulty of clear, concise directions. The AD comes in, "I need x people who were in the last scene in this area to get to set." All around the room:

"What did he say?"
"Was that where I was?"
"Was that the scene from today or yesterday?"
"You think I should just go?"
"I'm calling casting."

It reinforces my opinion that while a person might be intelligent, people as a group are pretty f%cking stupid. Despite all this (or because of it, I had lots of fodder to hone my sarcasm on) I really enjoyed the past three days.

Next...I'll talk about the actual shooting.