The Anonymous Production Assistant’s Blog

Those in the art department aren’t the only ones who are required to suck sometimes.

In the episode we’re shooting now, there’s a scene where one group of characters is teaching another how to dance. All four actors were required to take dance lessons, which is a little strange, since two of them are not supposed to know what they’re doing.

So, you have to learn how to dance well before you can dance badly? Whatever happened to method acting?

Some people are shy. Actors, generally, are not.

A certain actor, let’s call him “Mick Molte,” would regularly show up on set wearing nothing but a T-shirt and a pair of pajama pants with the crotch worn through. And when I write, “nothing but,” I’m including underwear.

(I must admit that I didn’t witness this behavior myself; I didn’t join that production until later.)

An actress on my current show has several tattoos that need to be covered whenever she wears a revealing dress (which is often). My friend has “unintentionally” walked in on this process a number of times. I should point out that make up trailers have more mirrors than a disco ball.

I have a one up on him, though. Unfortunately.

I was working on a terrible little horror movie. The scene required the actress to jump out of her bed and sprint for the door. Sadly, the set walls were hanging from the ceiling, and the slightest touch would send them crashing to the ground.

The AD needed someone to catch her before she slammed into the wall, destroying the set and thus costing the production tens of dollars. I happened to be standing there, so I drew the short straw.

I once again tried the, “But I’m married!” excuse, and once again got shot down with, “That’s why you’ll be less grabby.”

Oh, so mistaken.

So, the director calls, “Action!”, the actress lunges at me, I throw up my hands to catch her, and…

Grab her boob.

(Or, more accurately, Dow Corning’s boob.)

I felt really bad, and apologized profusely, but she said don’t worry about it. “It happens all the time.”

Uh…

Wow.

(And don’t worry, I apologized to my wife, and her real boobs, when I got home.)

Since I had so much fun bagging on actors yesterday, I thought I’d do it again today. I’m petty like that.

Really, since I’m Anonymous, this blog is about the only place I can vent my feelings about actors. Everyone treats actors like small, fragile children. They’re never allowed to hear any bad news, under any circumstance. I think many actors would be surprised to hear what the crew thinks of them. They certainly couldn’t bear to hear that they’re helpless, and a little bit dumb, from a PA.

Of course, actors also often act like children. For example, just the other day, one of our guest stars got into an accident and totaled his car. This being three days before the shoot, he obviously had no time whatsoever to rent a car. (Being an actor who’s not actually acting can be very hectic, I understand.)

On the day of the shoot, he had no means of transportation. Naturally, he took a taxi. In LA. Fifteen miles. I’m going to go out on a limb and assume he had the production pay for the ride.

At the end of the day, he demanded a ride back. Since he’s essentially a spoiled child being raised by parents who won’t say no, the producers had a PA drive him home.

I wonder what would happen if I got into a car accident this weekend, and then didn’t have a plan as to how I would get to and from work?

(So, basically, like normal cats.)

Dealing with actors is one of the least pleasant tasks of a PA. Just shuttling them from one end of the studio to the other can be a sisyphean task. They want to stop at crafty, they want to swing by the production office, they have to talk to their agent. All the while, the AD is yelling at me over the walkie, demanding to know what’s taking so God damn long.

I’m not sure if self-centered morons are attracted to acting, or if acting makes them conceited and stupid. Maybe if I spent the whole day with people doting on me and paying attention to my every whim, I, too, might think highly enough of myself to stop worrying about things like self-improvement or other human beings.

Just a quick example of what I’m talking about–

This morning, there was a message on the production office voice mail from a background actor (”extra”) who had worked the day before. He left his name, said he had left his ID, bank card, and $84 in his wardrobe, then asked us to call him back.

He didn’t leave a number.

This is amazing, since it covers both the stupidity and the narcissism. First of all, who leaves every piece of information needed to steal your identity in someone else’s pants? I wonder if his social security number was written on one of the dollar bills. He probably wrote it on all four, in case he lost some.

Secondly, why would he assume we’d know his number? He was one of about sixty extras. His contact info is in a pile of paperwork somewhere between here and Central Casting.

You’d think he’d want to make it as easy as possible for us to get back to him quickly. You’d be wrong. Actors don’t think that way. They think like this: “I want something. Someone will bring it to me.”

That someone is usually a PA.