roads diverge
A Road Less Travelled

My Journey Begins...

Mid July of 2001 I took a different path. One I should have taken years ago. Only I didn't because I was scared. I am still scared, maybe even more so, but this time I am determined to face my fears. What did I do? I quit my day job, which frankly was driving me insane and made me a very unhappy person. I won't go into details about how it all came about, but something inside of me snapped. I heard a little voice say, "Now is the time to turn around." And I did just that. I quit. I slept like a baby for the first time in 5 years (maybe more) that Friday night. And Monday morning I went to Central Casting in Burbank, CA and signed up to be a "background artist"... a.k.a. a Hollywood Extra.

My Goals Defined
People outside Hollywood get very giddy when I talk about this. They get very excited that they can see me on their favorite show (E.R., Drew Carey and Spin City, just to name a few) and I smile and thank them for their enthusiasm. But being a Hollywood Extra is really something completely different. And in order for me to focus on why I was doing this type of work I had to tune out everything that I experienced, saw, heard or bore witness to every day I was on set. I was working as an extra for one thing only, my SAG card. That was my immediate goal. It wasn't about camera time. It wasn't about getting the odd chance to walk past one of the lead actors (it is HIGHLY FROWNED UPON to even speak to them, unless they speak to you.) It wasn't about trying to eek out a living as an extra. It was all about that damn SAG card.

The Screen Actors Guild is THE union of all working film actors. If you want to be an actor in Hollywood, you need to be a member of SAG. To be a member of SAG you need to: 1) Speak a line or do a stunt; 2) Get three union vouchers (pay stubs showing you were paid union scale for your work); or 3) Know someone who can give you a leg up. Now, here's the catch. In order to get work in this town you really need an agent. An agent won't really care about you unless you are SAG. In order to get your SAG card (read above) you have to get cast in a show. Etc, etc, etc. It is a vicious circle. But unlike the countless other wanna-be actors out there, I guess I was more crafty or determined than they have been. I used a combination of #2 and #3 (more #3 than #2) to get my union vouchers after five months of slogging it out as an extra. And a few weeks before Christmas, I paid my "dues" and became a Union Actor. Right up there with the rest of my 98,000 fellow brothers and sisters. I accomplished my goal in five months what it has taken some actors three years to achieve.

Slogging it as an extra? Aren't you living the life of your dreams? Hardly. To my family who watched me on "Spin City" as a featured extra, where I played the role of a priest taking Paul's confession, I am really on my way. I had 8 seconds of air time. That is an eternity on the screen. During the final credits there is my face in full profile for eight full seconds. Lovely. And I am very pleased by that as well. But to the others inside Hollywood, that is barely a scratch on the board. And to me? It was a taste of sweetness amidst the bland days of working as a background extra. But it was something I had to do to reach my primary goal of getting my start in Hollywood. And there were a few perks. Not every day is boring... I've spoken (briefly) with several "stars" and have made some really good friends on the set of "The Drew Carey Show." Now that I am union, they don't call me as much (not once since I rolled over) and I do miss them, a lot.

The Life of the Working Extra
I mentioned keeping focused on my goal of attaining my SAG card. There are lots of distractions while working. The distractions come in the form of other actors working as extras. There are three, distinct types of actors working background in Hollywood. The first, and most amazing type, are the Professional Background Artists. These are people who are called in every day there is need for them for a particular show. They show up with their own chairs (comfortable, portable lawn chairs with a head rest, leg rest and a cup holder, or two!), plenty of reading material and a nice blanket to keep them warm (it gets cold on sound stages). They are the regulars who make their living by doing background work for one or several shows. To me they seemed to be professionals who got tired of the 9-5 days and really enjoy being on the set, going where they are told and pretty much doing nothing else. Being an extra is not hard work. It is barely work at all. But it does mean long hours. An average day is 12 hours, at least. My first day ever as an extra was 15 hours. But considering you get paid very little ($50/8 hours + overtime) you hope for the extra hours. It is a weird dichotomy. You either want to work a really short day, 2-4 hours, or a really long day to make the overtime.

The second type would be the Nay-Sayers and the Nit-Pickers. The Whining Boobs of Hollywood. These are the dangerous ones. There are more of these lurking about than there are the Professionals and the third type. Some appear, at first, to be a Professional. But whereas the Professionals go about their business with little regard to what else is going on, these types immediately make themselves known, in a quick and painful way. They chatter. They gossip. They complain about how they are being treated. They hide when the AD's come around looking for extras for a scene. They are lazy and big-mouthed. They tell you things like, "Oh, you are in this to be a real actor? Well, don't be seen on camera because then you will be tagged as an extra for life." They also complain about the food. Even if you get food while on set, it is a blessing. There was one guy who went on for two hours about how he was "gonna get me some chicken." Constantly mumbling under his breath about how he is gonna get some of that chicken they are cooking outside, on a grill, for the crew and actors on the show. Not only did he keep on about it, when we were dismissed for the day, he was first in line at the chow line, packing a huge pile of food into a plastic to go container. And he ran like a dog with his tail between his legs when the AD's came out shouting.

The Nay-Sayers and Nit-Pickers nearly ruin your experience. And it is hard not listening to them. They grumble about a lot of things. And they are quite the distraction to the third type, the SAG Seeker. I was one of those. I was doing background work to get some experience about being on set and possibly getting my SAG vouchers. Seekers are constantly working, either being ready to be chosen for a scene, always on-time, doing what they are told, but always ready for an opportunity. They are always watching. Learning. Making friends with the AD's because most likely they will contact them in the future for work as a stand-in, or better.

I saw three people on a two week shoot of a special episode of E.R. They worked late nights, outside, under heavy rain (sprinklers) and it was cold, wet, exhausting work. But they were there every night, always ready, never complaining, enjoying every moment. At the end of the first week, they were Taft-Hartly'd into SAG (Taft-Hartly is the term used when you are waived and must join SAG within 30 days). Aspiring actors, like myself, dream of hearing those words... Some SAG members would grumble that how they were Tafted in was wrong. But all the AD's, and including a lot of other extras agreed. Those three people deserved it for their hard work. By this time I have been working as an extra for 4 months with not even my first voucher. I was getting depressed. But then things picked up.

It's Who You Know
In November I am calling in for work, as I have done every day for four months straight, and I hear that a certain show is looking extras of my type. I nearly drop the phone. I quickly dial and after about 5 tries I get through to the casting director at Central Casting. She books me for the show the following day. I nearly wet myself. I have a very good friend working on this show as a stand-in for one of the lead characters. When I get to set the next day, I seek him out. He is surprised and excited to see me. Although our schedules were overlapping we did get to spend some time together chatting it up and he introduced me around to the other stand-ins and more importantly to the Second AD. After a few moments of shaking hands and the "Oh yeah, I have heard a lot about you." I get called away for the next scene. Three hours later he introduces me to the Second second AD (the list keeps on going...) and he is a great guy. He pulls me aside and tells me to see him at the end of the day's shoot.

The end of the day is upon me. I approach the AD and he hands me a SAG voucher, asking me to fill out the information. Saying it is a favor and they will help me get my SAG card. I leave a postcard and a really heartfelt "thank you" note on the back for the Second AD. As I am leaving another Seeker who was watching all along got my attention and walking beside me he asked how I got a union voucher. I tried coming up with some lie but settled for the truth. "I know someone on the show." He nodded his head, understanding.

A couple of weeks went by and I get a call from Casting Central, requesting me for that certain show (I won't divulge names) again. I show up really early the next day (like 6am) and I am done and out of there by 8:30am with my second SAG voucher in hand. I was jumping off the walls I was so excited. Then another week passes. I am in the homestretch and I get uneasy. No calls. I finally hear them booking the show on the call-lines again and I call in and book myself on the show, really hoping they will accommodate me and hand me my final voucher. It was not meant to be. I left after a full day of work feeling a little lost and not a scrap of hope. Did I push too far? Then something happened that very same week that gave me the greatest sense of accomplishment. I got my third voucher, all on my own.

The Final Voucher
I am feeling dejected. And don't book anything until Thursday (it was Monday when I got "burned"). It was gonna be a long day on location, starting at 6am in Pasadena for the show "First Monday." I have been on the show before and they are a nice enough group of people to work with. I show up in my suit and immediately I start grumbling. They have trouble with transportation and we should have been on set, ready to go by 7:30am. The shuttle didn't pick us up until 7:15 for a 30 minute ride to the location. We arrive with no time to eat breakfast (usually on long days with early calls they will give you what is referred to as an NDB -Non-Deductible Breakfast. This basically saves them from meal penalties later on, any time over a 6 hour period without a meal break is considered a penalty, one every 15 minutes past 6 hours of work), and people are running everywhere, confused about where we should be. I am chosen for the first scene, allowed to get something at Craft Services, and then directed to walk through mud and over an open trench (that they didn't expect would be there). I was in my best clothing and best shoes walking through mud over treacherous planks of wood. I wasn't happy.

Hours later we are on to the next location in Pasadena. Those that remain for the next scene are a smaller bunch. They provide us lunch (another exception to the rule about food on set. If on location they must provide you a meal or two.) and craft services lunches are really the best. I start feeling better. Then they begin rushing us again. Bad communications leads to the dressing rooms not being on location for us to change into. I am in my suit, needing to change into more casual clothing for the next shot. I am part of a couple who is turned away at an abortion clinic. Come to find out the woman I was partnered with "chose" a different guy to be her better half for the scene. As I step from the AD's trailer, the Second informs me that someone else took my place and they need me to change, again, back into my suit. I do so, quickly. Hey, it's part of a day's work, right? The Second steps into the trailer asking me my coat size. I am to play an FBI agent in this scene. And then she asks if there is anything she could do for me, because I am being a really good sport about all this confusion. I swallow and grab hold of my courage. And out of nowhere I hear myself calmly say, "If it wouldn't be too much trouble, I would like to ask for a SAG voucher. It would be my third and final one." She cocks her head, thinking, quickly smiles and says, "I'll see what I can do."

I grab my coat and run a full block down a busy street to make it to the set. The First AD sees me, thanks me for hauling ass and introduces me to the Director. He also mentions to the Director that I just hauled ass down the street to be on time for this. "Way to go!" he exclaims. After the shoot (which guaranteed me some screen time, whoo hoo!) the First and Second approaches me and after a few moments of discussion, I am wrapped for the day (it being 3pm my day was much shorter than I expected, another whoo hoo!) and I am on my way to the same trailer where I changed like a whirling dervish two hours prior and picked up my third and final voucher.

The Price You Pay
What started out as a bad day, turned out to be one of the best days of my beginning career. My wife came home. I walked up to her and started dealing out my vouchers (each carefully numbered, mind you) onto the table before her, even before she had time to remove her coat. She couldn't grasp what I was doing, but I was being very dramatic about it. Suddenly she saw that as I was placing down the second voucher I had another to follow. She looked into my eyes with a mixture of confusion and hope. Suddenly her eyes tear up and she grabs me, jumping up and down screaming and laughing mixed with happy sobs. After five months of slogging it and seeing my frustration and impatience this was a very happy day. The release of tension was immense. And very satisfying. We called everyone we could think of.

I reached my goal. The following week when I received my paycheck for my work on "First Monday" I called the SAG office and they instructed me to drop off the three pay stubs (proof of work) and then they would contact me with a letter of confirmation. A week later the letter of confirmation came to my house. I called the number and arranged an appointment to meet with an account officer. I was expecting not to get in for another month or so. My best friend told me he had to wait five months until his appointment. I was shocked when the guy on the phone said, "How about this Thursday?" I stammered my happy reply and prepared what I needed to bring in to finally become a member of SAG.

The dues and membership fees are astonishing. And now I understand why several actors I met over the past five months are still waiting to join SAG. Approximately $1350 is what I had to pay to join SAG. And that fee will most likely go up in the years to come. It is a huge price to pay, but worth every penny. I have passed a hurdle that has kept me from reaching my ultimate goal. I am going down the same road that I thought was less traveled, which in actuality every actor who appears on the big screen and on our TV sets has gone down. But this is just the first milestone. Now I have to find an agent...

Cheers!

Follow the piranha back to his home pool, if you dare...