It's been since JANUARY of LAST YEAR that I've mentioned you visiting, so I apologize for NEVER HAVING WELCOMED YOU.
Lo siento mucho. Perdoneme. Bienvenidos.
Wednesday, May 27, 2015
ideas are brewin'
and I don't want to leave y'all hangin', but now that my schedule is a little more regular AND I'm in training, I have to be sure to get all my homework done before I come back to the blog.
Probably Thursday or Friday of this week, I'll have plenty to say. Please be sure to check back!
Probably Thursday or Friday of this week, I'll have plenty to say. Please be sure to check back!
Saturday, May 23, 2015
Oh. Em. Gee.
***** This post was written on Friday, but it didn't get published until Saturday due to "reasons". *****
They say that, if you're going to do background work, the real money's in commercials. They say, "just do commercials, and you'll get upgraded to a principal contract most of the time". They don't say how to break in to that portion of the industry, any more than they'll tell you how to break in to any lucrative industry. I've gotten some training and plenty of positive feedback and cut a demo reel for voice acting work, but I still don't quite know how to break in to that portion of my industry either. Needless to say, I don't make much money in commercials or voice acting. Whatevs.
Yesterday, I was on set for a television show that's set in the 1960's. I got there early, with my hair in rollers, and discovered that there was no hot breakfast waiting, nor would there be a hot lunch in six hours, and I'd be lucky if I didn't have to buy my first cuppa coffee. Had I known that I needed to eat a bowl of cereal and prep my cuppa at 6 o'clock yesterday morning, I'd have done those things. Instead, by the time I made it in, I was starving and sleepy, and by the time I got my cuppa, I had to throw my ass in the hair and makeup chairs to get beautified. Some hot breakfast did arrive, but since it was from Craft Services rather than Catering, there wasn't going to be anything I wanted still hot by the time I had access to it. No worries; live and learn. Find some protein and move on. #FirstWorldProblems are not actually "problems". I'm blessed.
There were twelve of us booked as a specific group, and early in the day, we were informed that we'd be chanting, in unison, some scripted lines. We'd not been given the script ahead of time; most of us do consider ourselves actual actors, but we weren't being paid to speak something we'd have to learn, and the question arose whether what they were asking of us fell under the guidelines of our "background" contract.
We had discussions with our PA about the best way to provide the production with what they needed without screwing ourselves. The PA had discussions with higher-ups. They came back with solutions that we were all willing to follow-through on, but we still had questions about our contracts. So we made a few phone calls to the union. A union rep just happened to show up to set in time to hear us doing the bit, and during our "walk-away" lunch, he got the scoop from the folks he was representing the union on behalf of: us, the background actors. (I know, it sounds like that should have been a "we" but I'm pretty certain that the background actors are the object rather than the subject of this sentence, so I'm going with "us".) An email or two were exchanged. We, the background actors, continued to provide the production with what they'd requested, and we hoped for a positive, equitable outcome. The final phone call with the union indicated that we, the BG actors, would need to inform production that they'd breached our contracts or file a claim with the union after we'd received our payments, and wait potentially two years while it all got sorted. More emails were exchanged with the site rep. By the time we wrapped for the day, the site rep reappeared and asked US, the background actors, whether we would allow him to take up our case with production. This meant none of us had to risk being classified as a "ringleader" or rock the boat, as it were. We gladly accepted his offer.
We wrapped out for the day having no idea what would come of it. It was great to be on set, as always. It was frustrating to think that a big-budget production would try to cut corners by going a certain route, or even change the route to get into what could possibly be considered "gray areas". We had an advocate, but we had no idea how effective he might be. It made the whole experience less than what any of us had expected, going in. Still, I decided to just leave it be. I'd done what I could to get an answer, and there wasn't anything left for me to deal with. Worst-case scenario? I'd be paid for my background work, and the union would inform me that the speaking bit did in fact fall under "Omni" guidelines. No harm, no foul.
At 9:12 this morning, I received a call from the production. I was expecting an email from the union site rep by Tuesday, not a phone call from production TODAY. So at 2:30, I grabbed Stephen from his walk home from work, and the two of us headed back over the hill. At the end of the next set of errands, we stayed on that side of the world to dine with friends we'd not seen in awhile. A lovely end to a day that hadn't really started out particularly "productive" or special.
Here's what "going with the flow" and "allowing" and "due diligence" got me: an upgrade from background to principal contract, with a much fatter "mailbox money" paycheck when it arrives (posted by Thursday of next week, according to union guidelines, I think), and the potential for residuals on down the road.
They say that, if you're going to do background work, the real money's in commercials. They say, "just do commercials, and you'll get upgraded to a principal contract most of the time". They don't say how to break in to that portion of the industry, any more than they'll tell you how to break in to any lucrative industry. I've gotten some training and plenty of positive feedback and cut a demo reel for voice acting work, but I still don't quite know how to break in to that portion of my industry either. Needless to say, I don't make much money in commercials or voice acting. Whatevs.
Yesterday, I was on set for a television show that's set in the 1960's. I got there early, with my hair in rollers, and discovered that there was no hot breakfast waiting, nor would there be a hot lunch in six hours, and I'd be lucky if I didn't have to buy my first cuppa coffee. Had I known that I needed to eat a bowl of cereal and prep my cuppa at 6 o'clock yesterday morning, I'd have done those things. Instead, by the time I made it in, I was starving and sleepy, and by the time I got my cuppa, I had to throw my ass in the hair and makeup chairs to get beautified. Some hot breakfast did arrive, but since it was from Craft Services rather than Catering, there wasn't going to be anything I wanted still hot by the time I had access to it. No worries; live and learn. Find some protein and move on. #FirstWorldProblems are not actually "problems". I'm blessed.
There were twelve of us booked as a specific group, and early in the day, we were informed that we'd be chanting, in unison, some scripted lines. We'd not been given the script ahead of time; most of us do consider ourselves actual actors, but we weren't being paid to speak something we'd have to learn, and the question arose whether what they were asking of us fell under the guidelines of our "background" contract.
We had discussions with our PA about the best way to provide the production with what they needed without screwing ourselves. The PA had discussions with higher-ups. They came back with solutions that we were all willing to follow-through on, but we still had questions about our contracts. So we made a few phone calls to the union. A union rep just happened to show up to set in time to hear us doing the bit, and during our "walk-away" lunch, he got the scoop from the folks he was representing the union on behalf of: us, the background actors. (I know, it sounds like that should have been a "we" but I'm pretty certain that the background actors are the object rather than the subject of this sentence, so I'm going with "us".) An email or two were exchanged. We, the background actors, continued to provide the production with what they'd requested, and we hoped for a positive, equitable outcome. The final phone call with the union indicated that we, the BG actors, would need to inform production that they'd breached our contracts or file a claim with the union after we'd received our payments, and wait potentially two years while it all got sorted. More emails were exchanged with the site rep. By the time we wrapped for the day, the site rep reappeared and asked US, the background actors, whether we would allow him to take up our case with production. This meant none of us had to risk being classified as a "ringleader" or rock the boat, as it were. We gladly accepted his offer.
We wrapped out for the day having no idea what would come of it. It was great to be on set, as always. It was frustrating to think that a big-budget production would try to cut corners by going a certain route, or even change the route to get into what could possibly be considered "gray areas". We had an advocate, but we had no idea how effective he might be. It made the whole experience less than what any of us had expected, going in. Still, I decided to just leave it be. I'd done what I could to get an answer, and there wasn't anything left for me to deal with. Worst-case scenario? I'd be paid for my background work, and the union would inform me that the speaking bit did in fact fall under "Omni" guidelines. No harm, no foul.
*****
At 9:12 this morning, I received a call from the production. I was expecting an email from the union site rep by Tuesday, not a phone call from production TODAY. So at 2:30, I grabbed Stephen from his walk home from work, and the two of us headed back over the hill. At the end of the next set of errands, we stayed on that side of the world to dine with friends we'd not seen in awhile. A lovely end to a day that hadn't really started out particularly "productive" or special.
Here's what "going with the flow" and "allowing" and "due diligence" got me: an upgrade from background to principal contract, with a much fatter "mailbox money" paycheck when it arrives (posted by Thursday of next week, according to union guidelines, I think), and the potential for residuals on down the road.
I. Am. Blessed.
Thursday, May 21, 2015
Regarding that new Barbara Stanwyck biopic
... when they settle on a script and start the casting process, you know who to send 'em to:
I'll play her from any over-20 age up to her death in 1990. Just gotta be sure to bring along the fabulous hair-and-makeup ladies who did me up today!
I'll play her from any over-20 age up to her death in 1990. Just gotta be sure to bring along the fabulous hair-and-makeup ladies who did me up today!
Wednesday, May 20, 2015
Wednesday is for Wardrobin' (and other tasks)
I'm booked tomorrow on a "period piece" so I had a fitting today. I was the first fitting of the day, and the wardrobe lady was as nice as she could possibly be, and because I brought great energy to her, she thanked me for starting her day off right. We talked about doing what we love, and being smart about it, and being grateful for all of the opportunities. It was a great fitting.
The main reason I hadn't been putting myself "out there" for "period work" is my hair. I haven't been maintaining my color of late, and the last time I cut it, I just took the razor to it with the 1" guard, so it's still pretty short, although "even"... and I just wasn't sure if I could even GET rollers in it.
But yesterday there was a notification that they were looking for my "type" for a fitting today and work tomorrow. I start my new job at Warner Brothers next week, and in the meantime, I need to just keep working anywhere I can pick up a gig. So I called to submit for the period piece.
It only took thirty* phone calls to get through, and after a brief discussion regarding the length of my hair, I got booked! So this morning, I went to my fitting, and when the hair lady saw me (after the wardrobe chick was finished), she took a couple pictures of my head to shoot over to the guy on set, saying that she'd be recommending that they set a wig for me. She was unhappy with my roots, more than anything. But we also talked about the possibility of me setting it in rollers, and she gave me a few youtube links to watch, but really, my primary concern was not burning my fingers trying to wrap this short length around an iron or hot rollers, which is how I always did it back in the day on Mad Men.
So I left there and headed to Target, to see if there would be an instrument that was a small enough diameter for me to get the job done. Came home with a full set of velcro-type rollers, did what I could to set it, and then proceeded to launder our normal wardrobe while my hair set.
I think the hair people should at least be happy that I'll arrive in rollers, and that the big hair shown below is what they'll likely have to work with (at least to start). And my call time's not until 9:00 a.m., which means I don't have to get up at Dawn's Tramp Stamp just to set my hair! Win-Win!
Once all the laundry was mostly complete, I took the rollers out. Stephen got home and gave me a funny look, because he hasn't seen big-haired me in quite some time (like, since before we got married).
Now, we've just got to figure out some dinner, and our Wardrobin' (and other) Wednesday will be complete!
*If thirty calls to book work seems excessive to you, let me make you aware of a sad truth about our industry: since having gotten our new phones and our "unlimited" plans on SATURDAY (of last week), I have made 107 phone calls to one casting director before reaching the "thanks for calling, but I'm fully booked" message, and then 221 to another before being turned down, and then got through on the first try to a third CD before being rejected. There is a lot of rejection in this industry. Most of the BG actors I meet in holding on set are spending all of their free time calling the lines and calling the CDs. It's not uncommon for an individual to call ONE casting director 500 times before finally getting through. If you want to do what I do, you gotta have a thick skin and be tenacious. Without an unlimited calling plan, it is impossible, and it's probably the main reason I wasn't booking as much as I would have hoped to, back when my minutes were limited and I was resting on my laurels, as it were, knowing that I'd book the work based on my past relationships with those casting directors. It certainly ain't all glamourous fun and games! But I do love it, and I am so grateful for the new job and all of these day-player gigs.
The main reason I hadn't been putting myself "out there" for "period work" is my hair. I haven't been maintaining my color of late, and the last time I cut it, I just took the razor to it with the 1" guard, so it's still pretty short, although "even"... and I just wasn't sure if I could even GET rollers in it.
But yesterday there was a notification that they were looking for my "type" for a fitting today and work tomorrow. I start my new job at Warner Brothers next week, and in the meantime, I need to just keep working anywhere I can pick up a gig. So I called to submit for the period piece.
It only took thirty* phone calls to get through, and after a brief discussion regarding the length of my hair, I got booked! So this morning, I went to my fitting, and when the hair lady saw me (after the wardrobe chick was finished), she took a couple pictures of my head to shoot over to the guy on set, saying that she'd be recommending that they set a wig for me. She was unhappy with my roots, more than anything. But we also talked about the possibility of me setting it in rollers, and she gave me a few youtube links to watch, but really, my primary concern was not burning my fingers trying to wrap this short length around an iron or hot rollers, which is how I always did it back in the day on Mad Men.
So I left there and headed to Target, to see if there would be an instrument that was a small enough diameter for me to get the job done. Came home with a full set of velcro-type rollers, did what I could to set it, and then proceeded to launder our normal wardrobe while my hair set.
 |
| "Before" |
I think the hair people should at least be happy that I'll arrive in rollers, and that the big hair shown below is what they'll likely have to work with (at least to start). And my call time's not until 9:00 a.m., which means I don't have to get up at Dawn's Tramp Stamp just to set my hair! Win-Win!
Once all the laundry was mostly complete, I took the rollers out. Stephen got home and gave me a funny look, because he hasn't seen big-haired me in quite some time (like, since before we got married).
Now, we've just got to figure out some dinner, and our Wardrobin' (and other) Wednesday will be complete!
 |
| "After" |
Sunday, May 17, 2015
working in film & television
Today, Mad Men airs its series finale. I had the privilege of working in the background of this show during the first three seasons. I'm everywhere, if you happen to watch the show... as long as "everywhere" really only covers the Sterling Cooper ad agency. I'm the secretary who looks like Marilyn Monroe (well, ya know, if a secretary could look like Marilyn). I took on the responsibility of teaching the other gals how to embody a 1960's secretary "vibe" - how to sit, walk, file, smoke, and answer the phone with the sole intent of landing a husband. Type? Fugeddaboudit.
Here's an album of behind-the-scenes pics I posted on Facebook today, to mark the finale. The only reason I'm blogging about this "momentous" occasion is that I've realized that my career in Los Angeles has been lovely and lucrative and educational and fun and varied, and over the course of the last dozen years or so, I've only had two "big" gigs. One of the two was Mad Men. I worked, on average, three long (14-hours, typically) days per week, for three or four months, at union background wages, with smoke bumps and meal penalties and overtime. Mad Men was a good gig while it lasted, and those of us who worked those first three seasons are incredibly grateful and blessed!
The other "big" gig I've had was behind the camera, as a Script Supervisor. The first season of East Los High shot during the summer before we left California for our North Carolina "hiatus/reboot". And I just happen to be wearing my "parting gift" today, of all days!
I LOVE working in the film industry. In single-digit days, I begin training as a Studio Tour Guide at Warner Brothers. It won't be a production job, but it's still in the film industry, and I'll get to act again, with scripted lines! It's gonna be fun!
Here's an album of behind-the-scenes pics I posted on Facebook today, to mark the finale. The only reason I'm blogging about this "momentous" occasion is that I've realized that my career in Los Angeles has been lovely and lucrative and educational and fun and varied, and over the course of the last dozen years or so, I've only had two "big" gigs. One of the two was Mad Men. I worked, on average, three long (14-hours, typically) days per week, for three or four months, at union background wages, with smoke bumps and meal penalties and overtime. Mad Men was a good gig while it lasted, and those of us who worked those first three seasons are incredibly grateful and blessed!
The other "big" gig I've had was behind the camera, as a Script Supervisor. The first season of East Los High shot during the summer before we left California for our North Carolina "hiatus/reboot". And I just happen to be wearing my "parting gift" today, of all days!
Saturday, May 16, 2015
Friday Fictioneers, busted.
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