Being Seen

Date: March 2010
Job: NAB TVC
Location: Point Nepean.

There are two hundred extras on set, pretending to watch a cycling race. We’ve been here since 7.30 am, (after meeting at Springvale Station at 5.15!) and won’t leave until after 5 pm. Most are young things and there are quite a few hotties of both genders. And then there are the cyclists in their lycra. We have to cheer them on. And on. All day. Up to ten times in one position. We’ve all got the same thing in mind. Be seen. So I observe extras of all ages grabbing their spot by the barricades and guarding them fiercely. Some move in on others’ territory. I hang back with Rob, who I met on the set of The Trial (see The Trial and Error, June). But he’s tall. If I’m going to be seen I’ve got to get into the gap between two shortish pretty girls. So I cheer and clap and jump up and down as the cyclists and the camera on the back of a quad bike go whizzing past and lose my balance and fall forward onto the pretty young thing in front. I apologise, but in the next take she’s gone. More room for me. But then another pretty young thing slips in and I’m back in the second row with Rob. It seems the front row is getting more full with every take. Everyone has the same idea. But who are we trying to kid? All we will see when the ad hits the screen is a blur of faces or a split second glimpse of ourselves as we say to anyone who will listen, ‘There I am!’

So that's what it's all about. Being seen. I’ve been doing extra work for twelve months now and I’m yet to see myself on screen. The Trial has been banned in Victoria and in Rush you'd have to play it in slow-motion on a super HD wide screen with ultra zoom to see me! In the bank ad - you know, the cycling race I've just been talking about (you mean you didn‘t get the connection??)- you see about a quarter of the extras who were there and they’re just a blur, as I expected. In the first job I did on Offspring (see The Mouths of Babes, June) I thought, ooh, this is good. There's only four extras and three leads in a relatively intimate scene. Then they give me a cap to wear. And a surgical mask. Great. Then in the third job the medical expert says I don’t need to wear a mask and I think ‘woohoo!’ (or was it ‘yippee’?) but they stick one on me anyway simply because Dr Don is wearing one. I mean, it's not for me to question their artistic decisions, but whatever happened to authenticity? Really.

Now I don't want you getting the wrong idea. It's not like being seen is my main aim in life, but it would be nice. Of course, much of the work I’ve done recently is still in some stage of production and in some of it, hey, I’m not even wearing a mask, so fingers crossed.