I've worked many different types of jobs in the film industry, from P.A. (Production Assistant. i.e. gopher) to 2nd A.D. (Second Assistant Director, glorified gopher), and even my favorite, atmosphere (extra).  I enjoy that one the most because it extremely hard work, but it's all that you are there to do, and nothing else.  They don't expect you to scrub the toilets, or move light cables, or run errands.  You can't, you're in costume, and that's not what you're paid to due.  You're there to act, granted in a more subliminal fashion, but act all the same.  And you feel satisfied at the end, when you can look up and see yourself flash on the screen momentarily, saved for posterity, for the entire world to see.  That's exciting.

          I know what some of you are thinking... "Hard work?  What's so hard about standing around all day, waiting for them to film you standing around?"  It's hard work because you always have to be there, always ready to "stand around" or whatever they tell you to do.  You could be "standing around" on set for up to three to four hours straight, while they adjust lights, build a dolly track, block scenes, and then finally you get to do your stuff for about a minute before they yell "Cut!", then the dreaded words you never want to hear "Reset!"  Reset means you go back to your starting point and wait again until they yell "Background!" then finally "Action!".

          Now you're probably asking "If you enjoy it so much, why do you hate the word ‘reset'?"  Because I do like to continue on to the next scene occasionally and do something a little different.  It was never that bad in the past, but the word "reset" took on a whole new meaning when I worked as atmosphere on "Bram Stoker's Dracula".  Francis Ford Coppola has always been known for his multiple takes -- twenty to thirty takes for one small scene.  In this case I worked for two days, December 9th & 10th 1991, fourteen to seventeen hours or more a day.  And to add to it, during the filming I had called my wife during one of our breaks only  to discover that she had a severe gall bladder attack, and a friend was taking her to the emergency room.  But we were both professional about it and I continued to work on the film, and Wendilyn was taken care of by the emergency room staff -- the show must always go on.  A couple weeks later she had her gall bladder removed.

          Anyway, to start it all off, I had to get fake sideburns glued on my face, and the makeup people were using the old fashioned curling irons (not electric - they were heated irons) to curl the side burns, and almost burnt my ears off.  Then my costume trousers were too long -- the cuffs found their way down well below my heels.  I continually found my self stepping on the cuff in the center of my shoe's sole, placing an incredibly hard pressure on the bottom of my foot.  That was a killer.  On top of that, we were working on the back lot of Universal Studios, Burbank.  You know the city streets across from the collapsing bridge?  That's the one.  They had filled the streets in with about 1 foot of mud for the 1890's London look, so not only was I walking on my trousers, but the mud was getting everywhere and pressing the cuffs into my foot harder.  Ouch!  Also the rain started to sprinkle a little, so we had the A.D.s repeatedly yelling out to us to keep out of the rain between takes, or it would spoil continuity.  Where were we going to go?  We were on the streets?  Could we take shelter in the buildings on the streets?  How many of you have been on a set?  You walk through the door and there are no walls or roof -- you're outside again.

          That was bad enough, but then we (me and the other hundred or so extras) had to avoid getting run over by horses, coaches, and antique bicycles.  And although they would continually clean up the manure after the horses, they couldn't clean up the urine -- puddles of it in the mud.  There was this one scene where I was walking a woman down the street in front of the Apothecary's shop, and they held all of us in place for about an hour while we waited for an actual English actor to arrive on set so he could play the Paper Boy in a single few-second long scene.   The hold-up was getting the kid his visa.  Then he finally arrived and they had to set up a camera in the right place to catch Dracula's un-reflection picking up the newspaper.

          Of course, during the wait, a horse was parked on the street, in our direct path, and the animal was doing very well.  But as horses do, the poor beast could no longer hold his bladder and streamed it out into the mud.  I just stood there, staring at the puddle, first thinking "Okay, I'm an actor, if I have to step in it, I will.  It's not much."  But the horse kept going and going and going and going.  I finally turned to my partner and said "I'm not walking through that."  Professionalism flew right out the window there.  I continued with "We're going around it."  Luckily she had no objections.   And when Coppola finally yelled "Action!", we went around it.  But then the words came again "Reset!".  And I had to avoid it 3 or so more times.  There were a couple close calls too.  The horse never ended up in the same place each time, so we had to alter our path with each take.

          In another scene, they had set me up to stand in the middle of the street at one end of the block, just in front of a horse.  When we finally got our cue "Background!", I started off down the street.  I had been directed to just keep walking until they yelled "Cut!".  Of course, they didn't yell "Cut!" until I found myself at the other end of the street.  Quite a distance to walk in the mud.  Then again, we heard the dreaded words "Reset!".  I made my way back to my starting point -- I had to run so they could right back to it -- and they started again, for about 4-5 more takes.

          What was fun during this was taking our breaks and lunches in the middle of Hill Valley square. You remember the clock tower from "Back to the Future"?  We had camped out under tents on the lawn in front of it.  While everyone else just sat around talking or eating, I would eat my prime rib (don't you just love craft services?), and walk around the "Back to the Future" streets.  Seeing where things begin and end.  And this was just after they had  rebuilt sections that a fire had destroyed a couple of years earlier.

          But the most exciting stories you can ever tell about working on a movie set will always be about the Stars.  And I did have the pleasure of working fairly closely with Gary Oldman and Winona Ryder.  Winona mostly stuck around Coppola, like a giddy schoolgirl with her favorite uncle.  During the setup of one of the Apothecary scenes, she climbed up into Coppola's lap, in full costume, and just sat there while watching.  She was very pretty in person, just like on camera, but never socialized with anyone outside the upper circle.  Coppola was strictly business, but would laugh and joke quite often, which encouraged the actors to work harder.  I didn't know who they were at the time, but there was a little boy and a little girl, and their mother, all in costume working as extras, but they always hung around Coppola between takes.  Little did I know, but found out later, that they were the screenwriter James V. Hart's wife and children.  Wendilyn and I met them again at a WGA Screenwriter's Conference a couple years later and talked about it.  The children were fun.  We had the pleasure of watching them while Hart and his wife attended another function.  Yes, I admit, we taught them how to cheat at miniature golf, but it was all in good fun!

          However, the most  memorable experiences I had were while working with Gary Oldman.  He is very professional and extremely talented.  Between takes he would drop back into his natural English  accent.  There were three instances I remember the best.  The first was when he's walking down the sidewalk before he finds himself across from the Apothecary Shop.  He had to pass by several people each time, and we all were the perfect Victorian/Edwardian passers-by.  But once again, we had done many scenes over and over again, until Coppola was satisfied.  Now in this scene, I was supposed to be simply standing at a shop window looking in at all the hanging meat and sausages.  I know, real glamorous.  And we'd done about four or so takes like that.  Then the fateful moment arrived during a "reset".  One of the A.D.s told me to sit in front of a painting.  I pointed out that there was a painter in a smock that was supposed to sitting there, not me.  I was just a lower-class bloke, staring in the window.  The A.D. basically told me not to argue and sat me in the chair.  So I was now a painter.

          Now, I'm not one to keep a straight, serious face and just pretend to speak during a scene, with no words coming out.  In case you are unaware, extras never actually speak in the background if you ever see them at parties or on the streets or what ever.  We're required to simply "mouth" conversations, so that the microphones only pick up the actors or background noise.  But I never did.  So while we went over several more takes -- I don't know, it could've been fifteen or more in all -- I just can't for life of me remember exactly.  But every time they'd call out "Background!", and the other extras would pass by, I would speak with each person who would stop to admire my painting.  I would keep my voice low, but continue to speak with them and make them laugh at silly things I would say.  I believe it really added to the realism of the scene, because people weren't just acting like they were happy and smiling, but really were actually happy and smiling and having a good time.  With each take, the other extras looked forward to stopping at my painting to chat, and others eventually wanted to stop as well.  I had more people enjoying that street scene than they were prior to my being the painter.  It really made the re-takes much more exciting and fun.  For the first time everyone  actually looked forward to hearing the dreaded "Reset!" and were disappointed when it was over.

          So, during all this, I'm being funny and chatting with people both during and between takes, but it started sprinkling again.  So I found that the puddles of water on the dried paint on the pallet made the perfect "clear" paint on the paintbrush.  I'm painting on this canvas with water, just loving what I'm doing, when I look up to see Gary Oldman tucked in his doorway about five feet away, prepared for his scene.  He's just staring at me, thinking I'm completely balmy.  Well, I just smile at him and go on my merry painting spree.  Mind you, this was between takes, so I'm sure he thought I was a freak.  By-the-way, you can actually see me painting as Gary passes by.  So rewind the video and prepare to freeze-frame on the scene using an actual 1800's movie camera.  It's the scene were Dracula walks down the crowded street in "fast-motion" -- I've got a derby hat and a paintbrush.  You gotta be quick on the freeze-frame button though.  Well, the proof is in the pudding, so here it is:

          The second instance was later that night.  I elected to work overtime and work the night shift as well, during the scene where Dracula stands in his full grey cloak in the middle of the street, staring at the coach carrying Keanu Reeves.  I was only a couple feet away as the costume designer was primping on his sleeves.  The sleeves on that cloak were amazing.  At full length they hung almost down to the ground, but when the costumer pulled them up to Gary's wrists, they accordianed into bat-like wings.  There must've been some sort of plastic strips to curve them like that.  Anyway, so Gary is waiting between takes -- this one went quickly -- only a couple or so takes from what I can remember.  And Gary gets the attention of one of the extras smoking an old fashioned, twisted-type cigar.  Gary first looks around like a kid in the back of the schoolyard keeping an eye out for teachers,  and asks in his thick English accent "Is that real?  Is that a real cigar?  Can I borrow it?"  The extra was real unsure if he should, but finally handed it over to Gary who took a few puffs on it, then handed it back to the extra, thanking him.

          But my absolute favorite memory was on the next day, where we all were set up on the streets again, and Mina (Winona Ryder) was supposed to walk down the street to the Apothecary shop and look across the street to see Dracula (Gary Oldman) staring back at her.  We did tons of takes on that scene.  I wasn't in that one, but instead was standing on the sidewalk behind the camera, which they had set up on a sheet of plywood on the mud in the middle of the street.  Directly behind the camera was Coppola, and the ever professional Gary took his place beside the camera, in the mud, to give Winona a point to look at.  Winona repeatedly walked down the street, stopped, stared, then continued into the shop.  However, she apparently was not giving the shocked or startled look Coppola was looking for, so he kept sending her back up the street to start again, over and over.  During one of the longer spaces between takes, Gary starts looking around and spies a vegetable cart beside me.  He asks a P.A. "Are those real vegetables?"  The P.A. replied that they were and Gary asked "Are those real zucchinis over there?"  The P.A. nodded and Gary asked "Can I have one?  Could you get me a zucchini?". The P.A. was confused by the question, he didn't know if he should, so he asked an A.D. who, I think asked another A.D., and finally was given the reply "Yeah, sure."  They grabbed one of the zucchinis and gave it to Gary who immediately took his place again beside the camera.  Now, I'm standing directly behind Gary, so all I can see is him facing the street with the zucchini held firmly behind his back.  Well, Winona finally comes into view and waits at the top of the street, and Coppola yells "Action!" and Winona starts down the street.  As she approaches her mark, Gary shifts the zucchini to his front, at about groin level.  Winona reaches her mark, stops and turns to Dracula and has an utterly surprised, shocked and startled look on her face.  She kept it professional and continued into the Apothecary's Shop.  The moment Coppola yelled "Cut!", Winona stormed out of the shop and proceeded to harangue Gary, who took it in his stride, laughing.  This seemed to upset her even more, so Coppola finally got out of his seat and took each of them by the arm and walked them back up the street and out of view, all the time Gary was laughing and smiling, and Winona was not.  A few moments later, they all came back into view, and Winona was still not real happy, but there was no longer any smile on Gary's face as he dragged his feet, head down, like a punished schoolboy.

          Yes, that was a funny thing Gary did, and sure Winona probably didn't think so, but at least Gary helped Coppola to get that look he needed from her.  And although my earlier tellings could be considered horror stories about working as an extra, there's always something funny to see, and lots to learn.  Between scenes, I would just watch and learn from everyone, and ask lots of questions of the crew.  I never bothered the talent, though.  They were much too busy, so I found it an intrusion to do so.  No matter how much I may complain about those days, I will admit that I would do it again in an instant.  All the hard work and long hours was well worth it.  It's one of the most fun, yet hardest jobs I will ever do, and I would gladly do it again.

          Believe it or not, I used to see working as an extra as a vacation.  I would take a few days off from my normal 8-5 job, and work as an extra, get paid, then go back to my humdrum job.  That was fun.  I haven't done it for several years now, I have new responsibilities in my job, and it requires on-call and stuff, so I've been too busy lately... that and my screenwriting, and web design... Ahhhhhhh!  Atmosphere, take me away!