My background acting career began on the East Coast and 95% of my jobs back there were major studio feature films. From the James Bond film, Licence to Kill, to the extraordinarily bad Burt Reynolds movie Cop and A Half, I’ve spent lots of time as a small frog in huge ponds.  After my inevitable move westward to LA, I began doing more television, commercials, and short films and I must admit that among my most memorable shoots have been the small ones, like re-enactment roles and indy films.

My first reenactment job in LA aired three dozen times on the Investigation Discovery cable network in early 2009. The show, Solved, is a true-crime series that presents real cases in which a mysterious homicide case unfolds through first person accounts from law enforcement officers.
My episode (Grave Danger) was about the 2003 shooting death of Louisiana Tech assistant professor Stephanie Pepper Sims. My role, with four significant scenes, was as Howard, the father of the murdered girl.
The shoot was was like hanging out with my son and his friends. Decked out in T-shirts, shorts and baseball caps, these guys and girls shot five setups all over the valley with a half-dozen re-enactors in about six hours of low key effort. Craft services was granola bars, fruit and bottles of water but the fun was contagious.


A few months later, I saved a child’s life when a plane went down in the Hudson River. Of course, since it was a television reenactment filmed for Nippon TV by an all-Japanese crew, I’ll probably never see it. (Unless someone in Japan wants to send me a video. Hint. Hint.) We did the whole shoot at Air Hollywood, which is actually neither one. (It’s not in the air and it’s not in Hollywood.)  Air Hollywood is an airplane mock-up studio out in San Fernando, a small town that exists primarily in the minds of its inhabitants. The studio houses a wide-body jet interior, several smaller airplane interiors and an expansive standing airport terminal set.

In the tiny extras holding area, I did what I usually do: I paid attention and looked interested. Sure enough, our Japanese-American handler approached me, “We like you play featured part. No lines but you get $50 character bump.”
He seated me by a window in the first row behind First Class in the airplane cabin mock-up. He introduced me to a young woman and a 2-year-old boy with his mother hovering nervously behind.
The director – a diminutive Japanese woman wearing a Sony T-shirt – talked rapidly to our handler who told me, “You are man who save baby life when plane hit river by holding child against his fat tummy.”
(Well, that certainly was type-casting.)

He handed the 2-year old boy to the woman beside me and the kid start bawling ten seconds later. The crew, the mommy and the actress tried for a half hour to get the kid to work without screaming. From the crew came everything from “Scooby Doo” and “Mickey Mouse” to “Fuzakeruna!” and “Urusai kono bakayaro!” No luck.
The crew tried for a half hour to get a simple shot of the mom handing the kid to me and me bending over forward with the child against my stomach before they finally gave up and brought in a stand-in; a doll. (The doll must have been SAG for it worked quietly, efficiently and - I presume - for more money.)

In all, an 8 hour shoot, all indoors with virtually no time in holding. Because of the character bump, my pay was $155 in cash on the spot. I drove away a happy guy.

Easy but odd were the two hours (at $150 an hour) I spent working The Tim and Eric Awesome Show, Great Job! The seriously weird fifteen-minute show, now in its fifth season on the Adult Swim divison of the Cartoon Network, is bizarre and satirical, like watching a day in the programming of a sloppily cut together, nonsensical cable-access channel.
Creators/stars Tim Heidecker and Eric Wareheim have a twisted sense of humor, one that leaves even die-hard fans scratching their head. That’s why I was amazed that they hired me to be one of four “dads” in a series of cut-aways about “dad’s day.”
They found me on Now Casting and called me in for an audition on a Wednesday morning at their secluded headquarters in a totally nondescript building a block off Santa Monica Blvd in Hollywood.  Afterward, as I navigated the Cahuenga Pass toward home, I got the call hiring me for $300 for two hours for a Friday AFTRA shoot.
Joining me on the shoot were an Asian dad, a buzz-haircut dad, and a black dad. One by one, we stood on the green paper floor in front of the green paper screen and rapped, sang and danced. Although I didn’t know until later, the tall guy directing us was actually Eric himself, while Tim was in the control room hovering over the monitors. It was immediately apparent from their feedback that Tim and Eric wanted us to be as bad as possible and we all rose (or fell) to the occasion. Within two hours we were done, laughing and shaking our heads as we turned in our costumes.

It is an extraordinary experience to work with an experienced crew, the best gear and a sensitive and talented director.

I had that experience very late on a Sunday night in December 2009 while working on a short scene for the independent drama, We’re Closed, in a Magnolia Boulevard convenience store in North Hollywood.

It had been a busy weekend. Saturday morning and Sunday afternoon I was on location in Silver Lake shooting a scene for the music video of the same name by up-and-coming group Salvae in which I played a street drummer like the ones I did in Godzilla and The Taking of Pelham 1 2 3.
I got to the location - a beat-up convenience store in a tiny strip center on Magnolia Avenue in North Hollywood - about 7pm. I changed from my hip drummer outfit into my old man costume in the crappy restroom which bore a sign reading, “Out of Order.”
Soon, the troops arrived. Crew members began unloading lights and camera gear while young director Matt Barnes directed me and one other character in special footage shot specifically to be seen on the security monitor in the finished film.
Mine was the first scene to be shot with the full crew and - although it was brief with only a few lines of dialogue - they took great care and shot plenty of coverage.

In the scene, I come into the convenience store and discover no one behind the counter or visible in the store. Finally, a large, insouciant clerk emerges from the backroom and ambles to a seat behind the counter. Perturbed and impatient, I ask him where Oscar, the regular clerk, is and he remarks that Oscar is tied up and he’ll be glad to help me out. I buy a box of condoms from him, pay with a debit card, grab my receipt and walk out. That’s it. My scene.

I took the small assignment because - frankly - the script was the best short film script I have ever read and I want to be involved in what I expect will be an outstanding project.

• The large camera was set up in the front corner of the store and we did the scene four times.
• The camera was moved to another location and we did the scene six times.
• The camera was released from the tripod and mounted on a handheld shoulder harness and we did the scene another three times while the camera tracked a man entering the store behind me.
• Still hand-held, the camera shot my point of view watching the clerk amble out from the back of the store.
• Then, it shot his point of view of the walk down the aisle.
• The cameraman shot the scene over my shoulder several times and concluded by shooting my closeups from behind the clerk.

It took seven hours. We had a “lunch break” about midnight at a pizza restaurant 25 feet away.
I napped in my car during setups.

I got home at 2:45am to find my frantic wife worried sick since her cell phone had failed that night and she had no idea it would take so long.

But, with all that, it was one of the most fulfilling acting experiences I have had in years. During the long night, a make-up woman touched me up between shots, the director discussed motivation and delivery speed with me, the assistant director fussed over me as if I were someone and the crew worked quietly and efficiently. This is one project I can hardly wait to see.

Working on NBC’s HEROES in June 2009 was the kind of experience I love. First of all, it was a big shoot. I mean a BIG SHOOT. About 250 extras on the UCLA campus and 240 of them were portraying students. Along with nine others my age or older, I played a college professor, specifically Dr. Carl Griffin, English teacher and drama coach.
(I knew it would be a fantastic day earlier when I was motoring across town on Sunset Boulevard while listening to SUNSET BOULEVARD (the musical starring Glenn Close, on the CD player.)
On campus, we parked in a huge parking garage, were vanned over to base camp and fed breakfast. The holding tent was almost “The Greatest Show On Earth” size. Our chief handler was a tall, Rastafarian-haired guy named Moose who was assisted by a compact Hispanic woman named Max. They walked us over to the beautiful mall between Royce Hall and the Powell Library.

For the next half-hour, Moose, Max and several PAs “placed” 250 background actors. 
• There were four guys assigned to toss a football back and forth.
• One young man was placed on the ground with a guitar and a pretty young girl to serenade.
• Several other guys were playing with a Frisbee.
• Here, a pair of girls sitting on the grass, talking.
• There, a gaggle of cheerleaders taking snapshots of one another.
• Four guys and one girl were handed boxes (empty, so acting was required) and told to walk to this point and turn and walk to that point.
• A number of kids were handed fake fliers for fake charities which they were told to hand out.
• Several people who’d brought bicycles were given instructions on where and when to ride by.
• Everyone had an assignment in their mission to portray real people doing real things by acting.

For the first scene we shot, I was paired with a nice woman named Ilene who was a few years younger than me. We were both portraying professors. We were assigned to walk down the stairs near the Powell Library. At the bottom of the stairs, we were to glance at the clipboard I was carrying, nod at one another and she was to walk straight toward Royce Hall, passing star Hayden Panettiere on the sidewalk. My job was to turn to the right, where a pretty young Irish girl handed me a flyer about stopping the war, smile at her and take it with me and then walk on down the sidewalk, making sure I was at least five feet behind a blond towing a suitcase on wheels.
We did the scene about ten times but it was an absolutely beautiful day with a cool breeze off the nearby Pacific Ocean so I had no complaints.

One of the funny things about working a scene so large and complicated is the weird things that can ruin a take. Naturally, there were the occasional chimes from the clock tower, a police helicopter whirling overhead or a blown line. But we were also halted by some esoteric things.

• Just as we were about to begin take one, a group of about 25 Thai students with a guide were led directly into the scene. Max conferred with the guide and the group continued down the green and out of sight.
• During Take 3, a man in his 40s with three young girls in tow, walked up to an extra nearby and asked, “What’s going on?”
• Midway through Take 9, a sister in four inch heels and inappropriate-for-daytime dress walked down the stairs texting on her iPhone. Max asked her to step aside and she said, “Kiss my a**?” Moose intervened and the girl vanished.

The tough thing is telling an extra hired to play a student from an actual student. One clue was the fact that real students might have logos or advertising on their clothing or their backpacks. Background actors are not permitted to do so. Also, the real students tend to look a bit aimless while the extras have their assignments.

My second scene on NBC’s HEROES at UCLA, involved tracks and shadows. A dolly is a cart which travels along tracks. The camera is mounted on the dolly. A dolly shot is also known as a tracking shot, which means side-to-side movement. Camera movement parallel to a moving subject permits speed without drawing attention to the camera itself. The tracks were set up at the top of some outdoor stairs. I worked alone this time, walking up the stairs and turning to the left in front of the camera which was tracking right to pick up Hayden Panettiere, who was right behind me. It was pretty simple and we nailed it in four takes.
The third scene was substantially more complicated and interesting. Starting at the beginning of a long outdoor hallway in front of Royce Hall, Ilene (the fellow professor from Scene 1) and I walked the entire length of the hall in conversation, passing students and other teachers along the way. We ended up walking past Hayden Panettiere who is talking to another woman right in front of the camera (as pictured at the far end of the hall on the right).
After each take, when the yelled “Reset!” (which is the real world alternative to “back to one”) the 23 of us who were chosen for this special featured extra sequence walked back to our starting spots. For Ilene and me, that meant the whole length of the hallway. After five takes, Max asked me to stop halfway down the hall, speak to two students, and then continue on. This sequence put me within 12 inches of Hayden Panettiere a half-dozen times.

Funny thing happened on one of those takes. Moose was stationed at the end of the hall behind camera and he would grab selected extras and send them back the other way to make the scene look more crowded. To my amazement, after he turned me around to start back, he turned Hayden around — realized what he had done — and we all laughed out loud. “Sorry,” I told him, “Stars don’t do crosses.”

Play a character; don’t be merely a piece of scenery.

I’ve played a specific character in nearly all my 40+ background acting assignments. Am I crazy? Perhaps. Am I a professional dedicated to improving the final product; you bet your boots!

Many extras think of themselves as a piece of scenery or as an undiscovered movie star. That’s why, when told to sit in row 9 seat A for the baseball game, they sit there and start chatting with the extra next to them until told by the AD to “quiet down.” When the cameras start to roll, they boo the ump or cheer the team; whatever they were told to do, but they don’t know why they’re doing it. When cameras stop rolling, they revert to what they were before: a minimum-wage place-holder chatting with another drone.
That, my friends, is why many are just filling a hole. They do not respect the task or their own worth.
On a late-September 2009 shoot on The Office, I was appalled to find that many of my fellow background actors didn’t even know what the show was about, had never seen it, were puzzled when I mentioned “Michael Scott” or “Dwight.” If I don’t know the show, I hit Google the minute my calling service hangs up; finding out about the show I’m about to do. It just makes sense if you care about your work.

For the Office shoot, knowing that the show is set in Scranton PA (an area in which I lived for about three years) and knowing the limitations of my skills and appearance, I created Charles “Chaz” Conrad, the owner of Conrad Office Supplies in Wilkes Barre PA. Wilkes Barre is the lesser-known twin city of Scranton. Since Dunder Mifflin is a paper company, it makes sense that I would be someone who buys paper from them. As Chaz Conrad, I struggle daily trying to compete with the “big box” stores like Office Depot, Staples and OfficeMax. I wore a business suit but brought alternatives which included a colorful sweater that looks like something a grandfather would wear. On my trip through the wardrobe gauntlet at the beginning of the first day, the wardrobe woman asked me to wear the sweater instead of the suit coat, as I suspected she would, because she obviously saw my character the way I saw him.

Here’s how this applies to the work at hand:

When the camera caught me standing up to cheer, or being pushed aside by a self-important Dwight Schrute or walking across the lobby of a world-class hotel, it caught a 60-year old owner of an office supply store and not just “an extra in a sweater.”

Creating a character is a foundational part of being a professional background actor. Do the “extra” work to be a character and not a drone and your career will improve.

Background actors need to use a delicate blend of preparation and spontaneity, just like actors.

One of the skills I used while making a short film by a talented Chapman University student (Breanna Wing) called The Visitor last year in Santa Ana was making lines that we had rehearsed, shot several times and even altered seem to be spontaneous. It was also my job to make movements created in blocking look like they were inevitable. Those are common skills for film actors who must APPEAR to be thinking and speaking on the spot, for the first time. Only in spontaneity can we be who we truly are. All growth is a leap in the dark, a spontaneous, unpremeditated act without benefit of experience.

There’s a lesson therein for background actors.

In the classes I teach for beginning background actors, I stress the importance of motivating your movement and understanding your place in the scene while making it look absolutely spontaneous and “in the moment,” ten or twenty times in a row. Probably most extras never consider this level of involvement and, sadly, it shows in their performance. The reason we’re called background actors and not background furniture is that we are supposed to portray real people who are doing real things in a real setting in order to make the cohesive whole seem - ready for it? - REAL.

In order to appear real, background actors need to do some serious thinking about what they are doing.

For example, I spent eight hours one day in summer 2009 shooting an episode of the FX drama, Sons of Anarchy. The Ron Perlman/Katey Segal motorcycle club series is a hot show (check it out) with a professional cast and crew who - on the day I joined them - were cranking out one setup after another. My job in one scene in particular was to walk up the street and cross another. Simple, huh? But, in order to appear to be an actual guy in an actual town, I made some decisions before we started the first take.

I was costumed in what wardrobe calls a “Texas Tuxedo;” denim jeans, denim jacket and brown Rockport shoes. A hasty conversation with the young woman who started from the same liquor store as me and walked the other direction created a “moment” and motivation that served to make our walks seem spontaneous and real. When they called “background,” we walked out the door, paused for a beat while she kissed my cheek and we bid one another farewell, and I started my walk. While walking, I thought about the date we were going to have at the end of the week, smiled to myself at the scent of her perfume on my cheek and headed up the street to my job at the hardware store.

Was any of this in the script? Of course not. Was any of this evident to a casual viewer of the episode? Nope. Did the director even notice? Not on your life. What it did was give me the motivation to make that walk 18 times in the next hour and make every time look like it was happening for the first time. That’s my job.

Michael Caine: “The greatest advice I can give to someone who wants to act in film is to listen and react. Movie acting is a delicate blend of careful preparation and spontaneity.”

There is, of course, the danger of over preparation, of loss of spontaneity; over rehearsal is the most terrible thing you can imagine. Frankly, most background actors don’t even consider spontaneity. They just show up and cross in the back or speak silently at the restaurant table without regard for whether their background acting looks spontaneous or not.

Probably the prime example of a lack of spontaneity is the young boy background actor in the Alfred Hitchcock masterpiece North By Northwest who stuck his fingers in his ears BEFORE a shot rang out.

During the scene at the Mount Rushmore visitor center - when Eva Marie Saint is just about to shoot Cary Grant - a little boy in the background sticks his fingers in his ears because he knows the blanks that are about to be fired are going to be loud. How did he know? Obviously there were several takes before the final “shot” was right.

Another special aspect of creating a spontaneous background performance on camera is what Wing Chun fighters call “economy of movement,” taking the straightest possible path to the target. In other words, don’t make a move unless it is inevitable from what is going on in the scene. Improperly motivated movement is anathema to good film acting. You’ve all seen them in the background: those lackluster extras who walk six steps to the right and then turn because that’s what the director asked them to do. Obviously, you should do what the director asks you to do but there’s no reason you cannot furnish your own motivation for doing it. No body gives a shit why you do it, except you. SO do it well.

“Our spontaneous action is always the best. You cannot, with your best deliberation and heed, come so close to any question as your spontaneous glance shall bring you.” Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803-1882) U.S. poet, essayist and lecturer.

I have been in love with motion pictures for so long my life is a mix of my own memories and movie memories.

The other day, I remembered wandering around a college campus wistfully thinking of a lost love named Bliss Arneberg with Simon and Garfunkel’s Scarborough Faire playing in my mind.

That moment in my life sprang from a similar moment in The Graduate when Benjamin Braddock wandered around The University of California at Berkeley thinking of Elaine Robinson. (Actually, it should be noted, many of the Berkeley campus scenes were actually shot here in LA at the USC campus.) To this day, that song never fails to remind me of unrequited love and college campuses.
I identified with Ben so much at the time. I was about the same age. I was in love with love.
More importantly, interred as I was at Naval Air Station Kingsville TX, I was having an affair with an older woman. (The fact that her name really WAS Mrs. Robinson simply makes my true story seem apocryphal in view of The Graduate and Benjamin’s affair with Elaine’s mother, Mrs. Robinson.)

I recall distinctly the clever opening credits as Ben rode the moving sidewalk at Los Angeles International Airport while Simon and Garfunkel’s Sounds of Silence played on the soundtrack. Thirty years later, I rode a similar moving sidewalk at LAX when I arrived to spend a weekend with the woman who became my wife.
I remember as if it were yesterday at 2:25pm, watching Ben’s red Alfa Romeo Spider travel across San Francisco Bay on the upper deck of the suspension section of the Bay Bridge.

As most folks who’ve lived in San Francisco can tell you, he was going the wrong way. In those days, the upper deck went from Berkeley, westbound, into San Francisco. Had he really been driving to Berkeley, he’d have been eastbound on the lower deck. But, the shot looked so much better on the upper deck. And it looked pretty cool, in 2001, when I saw that bridge during a weekend Lori and I spent in San Francisco.

Pulsating with the rebellious spirit of the ’60s and a haunting score sung by Simon and Garfunkel, The Graduate is truly a landmark film. Nominated for seven Academy Awards and winner for Best Director, the groundbreaking and hilarious social satire launched the career of Dustin Hoffman and cemented the reputation of acclaimed director Mike Nichols. Plot: Shy Benjamin Braddock (Dustin Hoffman) returns home from college with an uncertain future. Then the wife of his father’s business partner, the sexy Mrs. Robinson (Anne Bancroft), seduces him, and the affair only deepens his confusion. That is, until he meets the girl of his dreams (Katharine Ross). But there’s one problem: she’s Mrs. Robinson’s daughter. Release Date: 1967.

In Robert Altman’s Hollywood satire The Player (1992), Buck Henry, co-writer of The Graduate, plays a screenwriter (himself, in fact, as he WAS one of the three screenwriters on the original film) attempting to pitch a sequel to The Graduate to a Hollywood producer. Henry’s character reminds the producer that the leading actors are all still alive and envisages a scenario in which Ben, Elaine and Mrs. Robinson live together in a ménage à trois.
FUN FACT: In the promotional poster for the film, Mrs. Robinson’s leg is actually not Anne Bancroft’s. The leg is played by the leg of then-unknown model Linda Gray who later became famous as Sue Ellen Ewing in the television soap Dallas.

Also, In the Berkeley boarding house where Benjamin ends up living, the landlord is played by Norman Fell (later to play landlord “Mr. Roper” on the 1970s sitcom Three’s Company).

Richard Dreyfuss was a background actor on the film and managed to get one line: “Shall I get the cops? I’ll get the cops.”

• Other background actors in the film include
• Mike Farrell, later a star of TV’s M*A*S*H, as a hotel bellhop,
• Ben Murphy, who later starred in Alias Smith and Jones,
• Kevin Tighe, of Emergency and - recently- Leverage, is featured as Carl Smith’s fraternity brother Carter who, when asked by Benjamin where Carl is getting married, replies “at his old man’s house… or the maternity ward!”

HEALTH: Have you ever seen a tomato try to swim? Only on those rare occasions that HEALTH is on late night TV. It was a strange film and it was a life-changing experience for me but I don’t regret a minute of it because I got to work with him.  Robert Altman.

HEALTH, was actually my third film as assistant to director Robert Altman (after Brewster McCloud and Nashville). It taught me to roll marijuana cigarettes, hooked me on baby Swiss cheese, served as the catalyst for the most popular of my three mystery novels and - tangentially - put me in the hospital with a skull fracture for two weeks.

When producer Scott Bushnell called me in fall 1978 to see if I was up to another go-around as Bob Altman’s “chief gofer,” I signed on right away. When I lived in that room across from the Astrodome in Houston and worked on Brewster McCloud, I figured I had seen the last of Bob Altman. But, newly divorced and on my way from Lansing, Michigan to Tampa, Florida in the mid 70s, I did some time on Bob’s Nashville. A difficult shoot that resulted in one of Bob’s masterpieces. Plus, I loved the old guy; Robert Altman was the dad I’d never had.

The Location

Picture a once-grand Florida hotel, the vaguely Spanish sort that went up in St. Pete Beach in the 1920’s - all pink plaster, tile roofs, balconies here and there, and towers that look like an infidel’s minarets. The Don Cesar is right on the Gulf of Mexico, with a swimming pool for those who don’t like sand between their toes. Picture that same hotel crawling with people dressed as carrots, tomatoes, lettuce and celery. Green and yellow banners, pennants and placards hang inside the hotel and out, welcoming delegates, touting candidates, selling vitamins, tonics and dehydrated seaweed. That was where I worked for several months in late 78, early 79 on HEALTH.

I was deeply involved in pre-production on Health; working directly with Altman.
Some of my recollections:
+ When I first met cast member Carol Burnett, I was typing tags for wardrobe mistress Beth Alexander. This tiny woman with an unmistakable smile turned the corner and said, “Hi Lary. Bob said I should introduce myself so you can give me the key to my room.” I fell in love with Carol almost immediately. I told her how much she had influenced my life.

+ I took a gift bottle of wine (from Bob, natch) to Glenda Jackson’s room and she surprised me by inviting me in for a half-hour chat about the film. She told me she requested pants suits as costumes because, “I hate my blasted legs,” she said, laughing, with her English accent like diamonds in a china dish.
+ I was assigned to bodyguard Dick Cavett a few times. Nice guy. Smart as a whip. But a touch of sadness there. (Years later, I learned it was clinical depression.)
+ Although Paul Dooley was a lesser-known star back then, I spent more time with him because I typed the script as he and Frank Barhydt and Bob Altman created it. (Little-known fact: Paul’s girlfriend had a small part in the film. Years later, she played the witness to the murder of the screenwriter in Altman’s The Player.)
+ Henry Gibson was funny and self-absorbed while we worked together auditioning women to play his girl friend. It was to be a visual joke; a tall model with the tiny Gibson.

My first day of pre-production, Altman handed me a green zippered suitcase filled with baggies of marijuana, asked me to put it under the bed in the penthouse. (Later, when I wrote my second mystery novel, Extreme Close-Up, that green suitcase became a brown suitcase filled with cocaine.) I was given $200 cash each morning to cover cheese, wine and other stuff. Each afternoon, I’d turn in my receipts to Victoria Barney in accounting and she would replenish my $200.

Though HEALTH did have a screenplay - attributed to Frank Barhydt, Bob Altman and Paul Dooley - it doesn’t have much in the way of a story. I know, because I typed the pages every day on an IBM Selectric typewriter in the penthouse of the Don almost as quickly as Paul, Frank and Bob dreamed them up, over Monte Carlo sandwiches and wine.

For the few who are curious: I was cheated out of meeting Lauren Bacall and finishing the film by a crazy-sexy  hairdresser I had married in a fit of stupidity on January 1st, 1979. Rhonda was an alcoholic. She’d been invited to join me at a screening of Altman’s small film A Perfect Couple, starring Marta Heflin and Paul Dooley on the night of February 17th. She was drunk and stoned and causing a fuss. Tom and Bob, a couple of gaffers, helped me escort her out to the parking lot where I offered to drive her home. She jumped in the car, screaming that she could do it herself, pushed me,  causing me to fall and hit my head on the parking lot barrier. I woke up two days later to discover that Carol Burnett saw the altercation from the penthouse window and called for an ambulance. I spent two weeks, touch and go, in Palms of Pasadena hospital and missed the balance of the shoot. They told me a half-inch to the left and the skull fracture would have killed me. I divorced the drunk. End of story.

The actors were uniformly good from the stars to the unknown person in the tomato costume who jumps into the hotel pool to save a drowning man. Nothing is funnier than seeing someone in a tomato costume try to swim; 12 takes in a row.

Although HEALTH was, admittedly, a flop, I am proud to have been involved in the project.

Calling services are in business to find background work for you.

Granted, they charge a fee to register and a monthly charge, but casting services are generally not scams because they’re usually staffed with people who worked in big casting companies in LA, people with industry networking connections, and they’re there to help you get booked.
Unless you simply cannot afford one, we recommend calling services. Many professional background actors successfully use them. These companies act as personal managers that assist you in the process of getting hired. They can keep track of your work schedules, provide your information to the casting offices and accept your work calls while you are busy on the set working.

The idea of a calling or booking service is to provide bookable, reliable, around the clock background talent to casting directors. The casting director can then call one place to get many actors, but will only have to deal with the service and not each actor independently. We recommend you choose carefully which company you hire. Ask other background actors who they use. Most management companies will charge between $50 to $70 dollars a month; basically one day’s wages for a non-union background actor.
However, it can easily be worth the expense since most of us spend more than that in cell phone charges just calling in to the casting offices every day trying to get hired. If you want to work on a regular basis, a calling service is a good investment. Most calling services are generally connected to at least a dozen of the casting directors in the area. Sure, you can register at a dozen casting companies yourself and call each of their casting lines every day yourself, but you’ll be out about $300 in registration fees and be spending at least two hours a day on the phone. But, what do you do on those days that you are booked? Cell phone use is not permitted on set and is discouraged in extras holding.

That’s where calling services more than earn their keep.
Your calling service is on your side. These people are background actor-friendly and are there to help you get booked. They only make money if you get booked.
Most calling services require you be registered with Central Casting as Central gets the majority of the bookings from productions.

In fact, directly across the street from Central is the calling service we use and recommend:

Extras Management

Registration at Extras Management, at noon every weekday, is simple, straightforward and no appointment is necessary.

Three words of advice: BE ON TIME!
After all, one of the things required of background actors it to BE ON TIME.

Because both Central Casting and Extras Management are on a short, semi-industrial street in Burbank, parking is really a problem. We recommend you park a block or so away and then walk to their location.
Extras Management is at the top of a flight of stairs and there is no door knob, so just push the door to enter. Inside, a nice receptionist will lead you to a room with a bunch of folding chairs and professional photo lights and a bland background cloth. First, you fill out a form. (Unless you are smart enough to download and print it from their website and fill it out in advance, which we recommend.)
On the form that asks you to list existing wardrobe, make sure you ACTUALLY HAVE whatever you claim to have. Why? Because when, for example, you get a Tuesday afternoon call for a Wednesday shoot, you won’t have time to rent a tux.
Although the website mentions bringing a couple different looks with you to the registration, few people do. It’s best to take photos of yourself - from waist to head - in your various costumes and bring them in on a disc or send them via Email to photos@extrasmngt.com. There is no extra charge for this.
After you are walked through filling out the forms and your questions are answered, you are sent to the front desk to pay the fee.

It’s $75 plus $10 for 18-54 year olds. That covers the generic photo they take of you. It’s $60+$10 if you are over 55.) After that, you can pay your monthly fee ($75 or $60) on the 15th of each month by phone with credit card, or with one of several other payment methods. After you pay on registration day, you are brought back into the room and they take a photo of you. Note: If you are not booked at all during a 30 day period, you do not pay. If you are booked only a few times in a month, the fee is prorated down. If you suggest Extras Management to a friend and they register, you get a month free.

Also, if you are registered with Central Casting as you ought to be, you should TELL Central that you are booked by EM. Actually, since you are already parked, it’s easiest just to cross the street after your EM registration, walk into Central Casting and sign in on the EM clipboard on the ledge by the interior windows. Warning: where it requests the phone number on the form, list Extras Management’s phone number (818-972-94740), not yours.

Extras Management is the best at what they do.

We recommend them.

Contact Information

Office Address
Extras Management
207 S. Flower Street
Burbank, CA 91502
Phone and Registration Info
Office: 818-972-9474 Registration Info: 818-530-5242
E-mail info@ExtrasMngt.com

Directions to their Office:
The office is located in Burbank at 207 So. Flower St., 2nd Floor, between Olive and Alameda. From the 5 freeway, exit Alameda East and then turn left onto S. Flower. Thomas Guide coordinates are 563-H1.

Times are tough for background actors right now. Production is down all around. More regular shows than usual have shut down production early and pilots didn’t kick in the last week of February as we’d hoped. But nearly into what looks to be the first real pilot season in three years, so all is not lost.
(Besides, those of us smart enough to have our bodies reconfigured for 3D anticipate scads of work.)

We background actors have to constantly find other ways to gain experience, make contacts or - best case scenario - make money. Toward the goal of gaining experience, getting free video for my reel and enjoying myself, I have specialized in student films over the last year.

For actors in my age range (45-60), student films are especially tempting because - once they’ve exhausted their parents (and believe me, some do) - students have a hard time finding older folks to be in their films.I’ve gained a reputation on campus for being agreeable, talented and eager to help out these kids who are trying to learn the business. Plus, my decades on set have made me production-savvy and an easy man with whom to work.

As I was negotiating the thick sand of Santa Monica beach today, shooting my final day as a co-star in Mitch Golden’s terrific USC student film, Sandcastles: A Mocumentary, with a cold wind a blowing, seagulls ignoring me and a small crowd of tourists watching from a distance, I was reminded of one reason I love this industry; it’s so cool to feel that you’re on the inside. Millions of people worldwide would give anything to be the focus of a movie camera.

Another providential thing about student films is the networking that can develop. I got the part of Jack “Sandman” McKee in Sandcastles because a girl on a film I shot last fall (The Grandfather Paradox) was drinking coffee and talking about me with a friend at a Starbucks near USC and a young producer overheard and mentioned me to a friend writing a film. Actually, my work starring in one early 2009 student film led to roles in four other student films, thanks to the co-directors of the first project.
In March 2009, CSUN co-directors Jessica Carr and Paul Arzoian guided me through a funny little film with a lousy script called A Taste For Danger. (I am not being mean. Screenwriter Sergio Serna actually blogged online about knocking out the screenplay in 20 minutes and not rewriting it. The evidence is on the page.)

A Taste of Danger gave me a good role; I played Don Romano, an aging Godfather whose son has been kidnapped by my rival Don Carlo. After consulting with my advisers, I go to Don Carlo’s office confront him, and - despite a few half-hearted threats of violence - we have a meeting of the minds.

We shot Scene Two on the first night, in the second-floor catering office of the Handy Market, reachable through a mini-warehouse and up a flight of stairs.

Burbank’s Handy Market - if you’re new in town - is a unique grocery opened in 1970 by Harry Arzoian (Paul’s grandpa). Harry’s son Alan, who still operates the market, created a crafts services arm in 1980 (Sunrise to Sunset Catering), and that’s the office in which his son, Paul, was co-directing me.

The next night, we moved to an office on the California State University at Northridge (CSUN) campus to shoot the FIRST scene of the film, directed by Jessica Carr. In that scene, in Don Romano’s office, I receive a ransom note from Don Carlo. (He has my son; I have his.) I talk to my adviser and decide to go over and face Don Carlo in his office (the scene we’d shot the night before). Since the scene was shorter with fewer inserts and more space for camera, sound and crew, we were done in just four hours. It was a great experience and - considering the poor script - I’m reasonably proud of the final product, which you can see here:

A TASTE FOR DANGER

I had just returned from a meeting at CSUN with Jessica Carr and Rob Fisher, the young writer and director of The Grandfather Paradox, in which I was scheduled to star a week later, when Paul Arzoian called and asked me to play Andy, a grocer, in Handy Market, a gentle comedy written by Crystal Rachal, which Paul was about to direct. I jumped at the chance to work with him again.

We shot the film one Thursday night in November 2009, inside the actual Handy Market, near the corner of Magnolia and Buena Vista in Burbank. I play grocer Andy Warholl (I know. I know. I made the obligatory joke about being an artist before I became a grocer and offered to paint some soup cans and got the expected laugh.)

With all credit to the crew and director, Paul Arzoian, it was a pleasant and professional shoot and I got home at 1am, proud, pleased and wiped out. (I am, of course, older than the rest of them.)
Here’s the finished film:

HANDY MARKET

As mentioned, one of the co-directors of A Taste for Danger, Jessica Carr, had already hired me to star in a student film called The Grandfather Paradox. We shot that film two weeks after Handy Market, in fall 2009.

My young co-star, (Jonnie Stapleton) and I hit it off immediately while filming Rob Fisher’s film about a young man who is forced to take in his grandfather (me) because, as my character, Alfred, tells him repeatedly, “Your grandmother has taken a lover!”
The Grandfather Paradox was a fun shoot.

The cast, although uniformly less than half my age, was friendly, cooperative and pleasant to me. The primary scene in the short film takes place at an outdoor backyard party. I have pressured Blake, my grandson, to bring me along as he and two friends go out for the evening. Eager to “get back into the dating game,” I drink a little too much at the instigation of Blake’s buddies and throw up on the shoes of a girl he’s trying to get to know at the bar.
Here’s that film:

THE GRANDFATHER PARADOX

If you’re keeping score, A Taste for Danger led to Handy Market and The Grandfather Paradox, which led to Super Rangers and Sandcastles: A Mockumentary.
There’s a lot of good student film-making going on in Los Angeles area colleges and I am delighted to be a “go-to-guy” when they need someone old. I am always up for a good role in a student film as evidenced by the fact that I will soon be going before the cameras in Super Rangers, a TV pilot co-produced by Paul Arzoian which follows five washed-up rangers, spoofing Power Rangers.
As Paul put it: “I am coming to you to ask if you would like to play our Rangers’ “boss.” “Here’s the catch: the boss is literally a head sitting on a table, so I’m not sure how you’d feel about that.” To which I replied, “Paul, for you, I’d play a nose.”

A really odd thing happened to me this most recent Thursday and Friday.  Actually, it happened four times in 48 hours. That’s what made it so odd.  I auditioned for four different productions in four different locations in two days in a row.

Those who read my posts regularly (2 people, I would imagine) know that I have been a background actor for decades and love what I do and do not aspire to stardom. However, I’d have to be crazy or very dull not to be making a continuing effort to move up to “under fives*,” character parts or the coveted “guest star” on The Mentalist, Criminal Minds or Medium that I dream of every night as I go to sleep.

To that end, we background actors throw ourselves into the ninth concentric circle of hell, also known as AUDITIONING.
In spite of responding to everything I find on Now Casting and Hollywood OS, my two favorite online casting clearinghouses, I hadn’t had an audition in several weeks so it was a great surprise to me when I landed two in one day, scheduled for Thursday, February 25, 2010. Then, I landed a third one for early Friday morning and - while walking from the parking garage at the corner of La Brea and Santa Monica Blvd to CAZT Studios for the second one on Thursday - I got the call scheduling a fourth one, for the next day; Friday.

Let me intersperse a little well-earned personal knowledge here: I have learned to audition for anything for which I am remotely right. Why? Because even the inevitable dead ends where you screw it up or they decide to “go a different direction” give you something you would not pay for if you could but you should: experience auditioning. So, I audition for student films, Internet webisodes, pilots, commercials as well as TV and film projects. Since I cannot afford, nor do I deserve an agent, I find them myself and I maintain my own schedule and follow-thru.

Audition  #1 1:45pm  Thursday 2-25-2010 Now Casting Burbank

I submitted for a part in William F. Reed’s fascinating web series project, Zomby Inc. which I was sent by my terrific friends at Now Casting. The role is a natural for me, Jack Striker, a recurring character described as “the new and improved (or so he thinks) Geraldo Rivera. He reads the news better than anyone before and way better than anyone in the future.  Imagine Michael Scott and Dwight Schrute as the same person reading the news and you have an idea as to who Jack Striker really is.”

Since I spent 20 years early in my life as a broadcast journalist and TV anchor, I knew this guy. So, when I arrived for the audition early Thursday, I strode in to the audition room, all power and glory and bullshit and shook hands with the two young casting directors, saying, “Hi. I’m Jack Striker. But, then you knew that. Bet you still have your Jack Striker lunch boxes.” They laughed and never stopped smiling through two reads of the material and some improv.

Sure enough, by Sunday, I got my callback notice Email with the comment, “Congratulations!  ‘There’s just something about that guy’ is the phrase we keep using.  Nellie and I would very much like to invite you to call-backs… We liked what you brought to the audition and would like to see more.”

Audition #2 3:15pm Thursday 2-25-2010 CAZT Studios West Hollywood

An hour later, I sat among about 35 young good looking actors and actresses in the CAZT Studios waiting room (there were six productions being cast there that day) chatting with two talented actors in my age group about the business. This call was very mysterious. All I knew was that I was auditioning to play a high school principal and that the project was a TV pilot. After waiting about 45 minutes, I was called in, asked to do two lines twice, did so, and was thanked. Turned out the project is a TV remake of the 1950s game/reality show, Queen for a Day and I was auditioning to praise a contestant not yet chosen. Curious.

Audition #3 10:00am Friday 2-26-2010 Chapman University Orange

On Friday morning, I drove across on the 210 and down the 57 to Orange and Chapman University’s modern and beautiful Dodge College of Film and Media Arts. In the same room in which I’d had my first rehearsal for Breanna Wing’s wonderful little film, The Visitor, I read for three young men casting a student film called An Educator.
Frankly, I was underwhelmed by the one set, two-character, one scene script which basically involved a young educator arguing with an older educator about the latter’s inability to cope with new computerized learning methods. It was, at best, a warmed over debate in which neither side seemed very interested in the outcome.  One risk you take in auditioning for student films is the frequency with which the scripts are really lame. I was in and out in 13 minutes. (After a 90-minute drive, by the way.)

Audition #4 2:00pm Friday 2-26-2010 USC Los Angeles

Three hours later, at the USC campus in downtown LA, I had the opportunity to audition for another project in which I really would like to be involved, Mitchell Golden’s fascinating SANDCASTLES : A MOCKUMENTARY. Basically, the short film is about a budding documentarian who follows the major players in the (fictional) Greater Los Angeles Sandcastle Showcase (GLASS).

The role for which I read was a lead character named Jack McKee. Recently divorced and trying way too hard to cover up his depression with false optimism, McKee abandoned his highly-paid job as an architect to join the sandcastle circuit, which has become an obsession. He’ll do anything to win his fifth trophy.

Mockumentary is perhaps my favorite film form. I have worshiped at the shrine of Christopher Guest (Waiting for Guffman, Best In Show, A Mighty Wind and For Your Consideration) for over a decade and studied with several experts in the field and - frankly - have a natural gift for the straight-faced improv the genre requires.

To prepare, I spent the half-hour before my audition sitting at a desk in the hallway writing down a series of improv hooks such as “I invented the Sandula, of course. You know, that special spatula that all sandcastle builders use.” “My wax-coated shorts to which sand does not adhere and my ultra wide-brimmed sun shade hat/umbrella called the McKee Shadebrella are very popular.” I also made notes about my brush with infamy when I was accused - in what the press referred to as Watergate 1999 - of mixing quick-drying cement with my sand and water and how it affected my career.

I spent about 20 minutes with Mitch and his camera and computer in which he interviewed me and I totally improvised my answers based on his notes and mine. I had a great time. From his inscrutable smile, I cannot guess whether he will cast me. But it was a great experience to exercise my mockumentary muscles once more.

So, two days, four parts - two of which I really hope I get - and now it’s back to checking my Email constantly and waiting for the phone to ring.

Bottom line: most casting directors and student filmmakers want you to do well. They’ll not judge you harshly; they simply want to find the perfect person for the role. One casting director confided in me, “The casting process is as exhausting and difficult for us as it is for the actors. We’re just waiting for the right person to walk in the room so we can all go home. I want to see an actor who is prepared,” she explained, “but not so over-rehearsed that they can’t take direction. And I am especially happy if they show up on time.”

I strive, when auditioning, to be relaxed, friendly and anything but needy. Seeming desperate is a sure way not to get a role. Casting directors already know I want them to hire me. That’s a given. I avoid unnecessary chit-chat and do not linger in the room after I read. I smile, thank them for the opportunity and make my exit.
When it comes down to it, getting the job is 5% what you do, 10% what you look like, and 85% dumb luck.

*
The “Under Five” - This is a role where the actor has under five lines to speak.