Horses' Mouths

Date: June 2010
Job: The Cup
Location: Flemington Race Course

I recently spent spent two days shooting a film about the Melbourne Cup, manoeuvring into the front row of the crowd at the mounting yard and strategically positioning myself in the grandstand in direct relation to the camera and the leads. I have become quite adept at ‘being seen’. I’ve also become a superficial, self-absorbed, competitive attention seeker. I am truly ashamed.

Okay. Now, I’ll tell you how I got my face in The Age! Yes, that’s right! There’s an article with some photos of filming in progress, including Stephen Curry just before he got thrown off the substandard nag they have cast in the lead horse role. In fact many of the horses look mangy and second class. But back to me. There’s a large photo of the crowd in their Cup splendour (had to go shopping again) and I’m right in the front row behind the fake roses. Okay, my dad had trouble picking me out but it’s me alright and I look fabulous in my hat, if I do say so myself. Never mind that I was FREEZING. It’s mid winter (not the warm spring day it’s mean to be) and all the women’s heels are sinking into the water logged lawn. Oh, those poor young things in their strappy dresses and strappy shoes and bare legs! The day pretty much goes like this: ‘Coats off!’, wait shivering until we hear ‘Background!’, then smile, chat, applaud, sip fake champagne then, ‘Cut!’, hastily throw coats back on. As the shoot progresses and the women realise no-one can see their feet they exchange their super stilettos for ug boots, which adds an interesting touch to their ensembles.

There are about three hundred of us and the queues at arrival, lunch and leaving are a pain (I earn an extra twenty dollars standing in line for an hour waiting to sign out, though). Once again the camaraderie helps while the day away and I pick up lots of useful tips on the industry. I meet a theatre critic, a would-be film maker and lots of would-be actors as well some people off the street. One of these is Peter, who looks like a fair dinkum punter in his tweed trilby and moustache. Turns out he is. He was helping a mate paint the logos on the mounting yard lawn the day before and he and his young offsider were ‘spotted’. We couple up from time to time. He’s a retired principal so we have a bit in common but in schools the word ‘extra’ has a much more negative connotation, let me tell you! Then there’s the young girl who never stops telling everyone how much she knows about horses (this goes on for two days) and a short, elderly Italian woman who pushes into the front of the crowd when filming and tries to push in front of me in the coffee queue but I stand my ground. She seems to think she’s an endearing, eccentric character. She’s not. Peter and I watch with amusement as the short, elderly Italian woman and a short, elderly Russian woman have an argument. The Russian has also committed the extra mortal sin (that’s ‘extra’ mortal, not extra-mortal) by asking Stephen Curry to sign an autograph and pose for a photo. Tsk, tsk.

After lunch on the second day we all change into black and white for ‘Darby Day’. Filming continues til dark when they bring in lights and a large reflective screen. I head home worn out from the early starts and long days of standing around!