Dear Reader,
Out here in LA, the entertainment industry is slowly coming back up to speed.
In my July Newsletter, I shared my first crazy dive into working as an extra. Cliff note version: I was not “background.” I had a speaking part, improving my case as the plaintiff in a “Judge Judy” type of show. (No, those cases are not real). They have not yet aired my episode, but I promise it happened. Who knows, maybe the acting was so terrible the network decided to spare the public.
With the writers and actors striking, yours truly had zero opportunities to explore the true realm of an extra — background — until very recently.
Luck of the draw, my second gig was as a party dancer for Dick Clark’s New Year’s Rockin’ Eve 2024. I may have had an internal Monica freakout moment. According to some friends, I made an appearance somewhere between midnight and 12:15 am on January 1st on ABC. Unfortunately, extras are not allowed to take photos, so this Friends meme will have to suffice.
A month later I booked my third gig as a background worker. Strangely enough, this one was also to be a crowd member for a concert. They sent a wardrobe guide directing us to dress 80s and 90s.
I showed up to the studio and followed the line of extras checking in. The production kept the background workers in one of the sound stages and, in many ways, it felt like a return to high school. I checked in and handed over my phone, not to be returned until lunch. I was then instructed to make my way past the makeup chairs to the wardrobe department.
Wardrobe is no joke. Rows and rows of clothing racks in a carefully organized system filled the back corner of the sound stage, a lot like Olivander’s wand shop. The staff responsible for dressing 600 extras took us each in with quick calculating eyes;
“No rips in the jeans. Does no one read instructions?”
“Hide the necklace. Lose the watch. They didn’t have smartwatches in 1990.”
“That coat was out of style for this year. I’ll get you another one.”
“Love the hair. I think you could carry off this red jacket vibe.”
It was remarkable to watch not only how well they knew the dates of clothing, but how quickly they adjusted outfits, providing everything from corduroy pants to plastic bangles, to Converse in your size shoe. Once you passed inspection, you were granted a lanyard. Woebetide the extra who tried to sneak onto the set without approval from the costume department.
Afterward, you were released to retrieve breakfast from the buffet-style tables. Then… the wild wild west: picking your table from a sea of 600 extras. Folks, the high school flashbacks were coming hard-core. It was like a day-long mixer, constantly meeting new people, attempting small talk, and looking for common ground. Or you could isolate yourself with the book you brought and radiate “leave me alone” vibes.
Part of my desire to do extras work was to meet people and learn, so I opted for the small talk (though the book sang her siren song). I was very fortunate in the people I met, who were friendly, interesting, and very ready to catch me up on all the drama going on during the last two weeks of shooting.
Much of an extra’s job involves waiting: waiting in line for your wardrobe, the bathroom, and your phone. Waiting in the holding area to talk, eat, or play games. Once on set, you’re waiting for the camera set up, for lighting, for sound, and who knew what else. So we stood and waited until the playback came on and then we rocked our little hearts out, jumping and screaming and singing along until —
“Cut!”
And then we were silent.
When the waiting got too long, we sat on the ground and tried to engage in hushed conversations, find a survival buddy, or play cards with the extra who smuggled in the black market contraband. It was a little like a prison, with our wardens walking around shushing us. I’m just kidding, they were great. They brought us water.
The point is that being an extra involves a lot of waiting in various states, with occasional periods of screaming and dancing, and a ton of small talk. It doesn’t sound like tough work, but after two eleven-hour days of this, I was sore straight through. The next day, I camped out in front of the TV to recover and remind myself why I was in this business in the first place. Would I do it again? Definitely.
Adventure Awaits,
Please Subscribe!
In addition to putting out a new short story and a monthly update on this artist’s journey into Hollywood, for $5 a month I also send out a new chapter of my Fantasy novel Bohan the Mage. With each new chapter I include links to all previous chapters, so you never miss one.
Do you like reading fiction? Do you believe in the arts, and like receiving updates from one writer breaking into the entertainment industry, with even more free fiction? (See below). Then support this artist monthly for less than the cost of a latte. (Seriously, the standard coffee beverage out here is $8. I’m not exaggerating.)
FREE READING for VALENTINE’S DAY!
S. C. Durbois Newsletter
1st Saturday every month: a new original short story.
3rd Saturday every month: a writerly check-in with updates.
4th Saturday every month: a new chapter from “Bohan the Mage,” a dark academic fantasy novel. Subscriber access only.
Sounds fun 🤩