For the 'story so far' please make like Maria and start at the very beginning .
To loyal readers: So sorry for keeping you in suspense. Let me relieve your agony with the latest episode.
You’ll be thrilled to hear I recently appeared on the small screen four times in three weeks! So far no strangers have stopped me in the street to ask for my autograph so my anonymity remains intact. Obviously I am so skilled at immersing myself in my character that the real me is unrecognisable. Then again, maybe it's because I’M JUST A BLUR!! (so much for getting pally with the steady cam man). Anyway, a summary of my background artistry: two appearances as bescrubbed figure in Offspring (I’m almost recognisable in caesarean #2 but they omitted my meaningful look to Dishy Dr Don-obviously too steamy), one fleeting walk through hospital carpark (Offspring again) and one momentary blur in City Homicide (beats me why they bother with wardrobe and make-up). It’s probably just as well I’m a smudge in that one, as I never did nail that ‘glance and nod.’ .
Since my last ‘medical’ job two months ago, there's no extra work except for one offer that I have to renege on.
It’s a good quality ABC drama-Bed of Roses (nice!), they want ‘fire victims’ (dramatic potential!), it’s for an eight hour call (a whole day!) and it’s on a Monday (my day off!)... and a Tuesday. Damn. I say yes anyway, ignoring my resolve to decline jobs that fall on a work day. But after a later discussion with the co-ordinator at work I decide I must pull out. I send a very apologetic email to the agent--withdrawing from a job you’ve agreed to is a big no-no--and luckily she’s okay about it, but since then it appears I’ve been thrust to the bottom of the barrel.
Not to worry; I‘ve got bigger things in store. Forget the small screen-I’m gonna be on the next-size-up-screen. Yes, in Short Film Land I am Mrs Popularity. I’ve scored speaking roles in four student films (three mums, one teacher), and I’m having a ball! In one film (Pieces of Us) I play the caring mother of four children in a somewhat dysfunctional family, which is strangely rewarding (seems to accommodate my maternal/histrionic tendencies). Hopefully it’ll get a screening at film festivals frequented by Hollywood directors looking for 'mums'.
So, my agent may not be swamping me with offers of fame and fortune but at present my thespian cravings are more than satisfied. To tell you the truth, I’m feeling a little bloated.
Showing posts with label Offspring. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Offspring. Show all posts
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Scrubbing Up Again
Date: August 2010
Job: Offspring
Location: Preston
Okay! Back in scrubs. I got my fix. I walked the hospital corridor. I feel better now.
This week I was on set again with Dishy Dr Don. I got to walk past him. No saving babies' lives together today (see The Mouths of Babes, June) but that's okay. Such is the unpredictable life of a professional extra.
There are seven of us 'background artistes' playing hospital staff and patients. There's a young man taking photos of himself in scrubs who tells me everything he's been up to lately and shows me a photo of his baby nephew, who is apparently a lady killer, in the first five minutes of meeting him and without invitation.
Anyway, I'm eventually summoned and told to wait three beats then walk down the hallway with the orderly, past Dr Proudman (Asher Keddie). Wait so many beats then return with the nurse. I have to mime chatting, walk more slowly, act natural, stop at the water cooler, stop at the door, walk off when the lead says 'two minutes', be more animated. 'Don't just stand there like an ironing board,' says the AD. Okay, but you just told me to be natural and I'm remembering the time I got told to 'tone it down' (Surviving Amateurs, June). I ain't arguing with her, though. Earlier, when she was giving us our places, one extra asked if he could go to the toilet. She kicked him off the set! (Well, he was warned!) But now I'm worried she thinks I'm stupid. I am so busy concentrating on being animated I forget the instructions.
I'm 'wrapped' but get to have lunch before I leave. Most of the other extras get to stay on for another four hours. Not to worry. I got my fix.
Trouble is, how long can I last before I give in again, say yes to the call from the agent (whenever that might be) and, throwing caution to the wind, take another day off work? How long before the lure of being seen on the screen theatens my wellbeing, my job, my very soul?
For now I resolve to stay strong. I will only take jobs on my days off. I will focus on the roles I have in two student films. But like a true addict I'm probably kidding myself.
Job: Offspring
Location: Preston
Okay! Back in scrubs. I got my fix. I walked the hospital corridor. I feel better now.
This week I was on set again with Dishy Dr Don. I got to walk past him. No saving babies' lives together today (see The Mouths of Babes, June) but that's okay. Such is the unpredictable life of a professional extra.
There are seven of us 'background artistes' playing hospital staff and patients. There's a young man taking photos of himself in scrubs who tells me everything he's been up to lately and shows me a photo of his baby nephew, who is apparently a lady killer, in the first five minutes of meeting him and without invitation.
Anyway, I'm eventually summoned and told to wait three beats then walk down the hallway with the orderly, past Dr Proudman (Asher Keddie). Wait so many beats then return with the nurse. I have to mime chatting, walk more slowly, act natural, stop at the water cooler, stop at the door, walk off when the lead says 'two minutes', be more animated. 'Don't just stand there like an ironing board,' says the AD. Okay, but you just told me to be natural and I'm remembering the time I got told to 'tone it down' (Surviving Amateurs, June). I ain't arguing with her, though. Earlier, when she was giving us our places, one extra asked if he could go to the toilet. She kicked him off the set! (Well, he was warned!) But now I'm worried she thinks I'm stupid. I am so busy concentrating on being animated I forget the instructions.
I'm 'wrapped' but get to have lunch before I leave. Most of the other extras get to stay on for another four hours. Not to worry. I got my fix.
Trouble is, how long can I last before I give in again, say yes to the call from the agent (whenever that might be) and, throwing caution to the wind, take another day off work? How long before the lure of being seen on the screen theatens my wellbeing, my job, my very soul?
For now I resolve to stay strong. I will only take jobs on my days off. I will focus on the roles I have in two student films. But like a true addict I'm probably kidding myself.
Friday, July 2, 2010
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.
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.
Friday, June 18, 2010
The Mouths of Babes
Date: June 2010
Job: Offspring
Location: The former PANCH
We're filming a new 13 part TV show about an obstetrician. This is my third job with this production and, as I did with that independent feature film last year, I'm playing one of the 'medical staff'. Must be getting typecast. Are they underestimating my range? Hm. It's a four hour call and the last time I was here, I put on a nurse's uniform and walked across the car park a few times then went home. Okay, it's harder than it sounds. No, really. We changed positions three times, we had to time our walking and the AD was a bit grumpy.
You're right. It was pretty easy.
There is a young woman of African descent who I've met on five different sets. She walked across the car park too. She told me she's going to America to try and get work there. Good luck.
Anyway, today we are filming another caeserian scene in the operating theatre, just as I did in my first job on this show. This time we're using both fake babies and real babies! Again I'm in scrubs and tending to the newborn alongside the paediatrician played by Don Hany. Forget Dr Dreamy, this is Dishy Dr Don. He's actually lovely to work with. The first scene is quite straightforward. The next is not. We practise the procedure with the dummy. (Dummy baby, that is) Check baby's heart beat using the stethoscope, while Doc tries to revive it with the 'bag'. Share a look. It's not good news. Take over pumping oxygen bag while Dr Don administers injection into fake placenta. Baby revives. Dr Don looks meaningfully at Nina (Asher Keddie). Happy ending. Yay.
I hope to goodness I don't stuff it up.
There are lots of rehearsals and direction from the director and instructions from a midwife, the medical expert on set. It's actually quite intense, especially when they bring in the real baby (his first big break in television) and he's crying and it's hard to make it look like we're reviving him. Dishy Dr Don puts his gloved finger in the little baby's mouth and he sucks on it contentedly for a while. The baby must like the taste of latex. They cover both the fake baby and the real baby in jam and other slimy stuff. The real baby does a real poop. Fortunately it's just a little bit but the noise is pretty funny. Yeah, I know, small things... Then Dr Don makes me laugh again when the fake baby's penis falls off and he puts it in the baby's mouth like a dummy. Small things, alright! The good thing is I get to look into Dr Don's very nice eyes when we share looks of concern.
Anyway, it works out pretty well. But the takes with the real baby feel quite different from the those with the fake baby. Hope the editors do their job.
Dr Don and I certainly did ours.
Job: Offspring
Location: The former PANCH
We're filming a new 13 part TV show about an obstetrician. This is my third job with this production and, as I did with that independent feature film last year, I'm playing one of the 'medical staff'. Must be getting typecast. Are they underestimating my range? Hm. It's a four hour call and the last time I was here, I put on a nurse's uniform and walked across the car park a few times then went home. Okay, it's harder than it sounds. No, really. We changed positions three times, we had to time our walking and the AD was a bit grumpy.
You're right. It was pretty easy.
There is a young woman of African descent who I've met on five different sets. She walked across the car park too. She told me she's going to America to try and get work there. Good luck.
Anyway, today we are filming another caeserian scene in the operating theatre, just as I did in my first job on this show. This time we're using both fake babies and real babies! Again I'm in scrubs and tending to the newborn alongside the paediatrician played by Don Hany. Forget Dr Dreamy, this is Dishy Dr Don. He's actually lovely to work with. The first scene is quite straightforward. The next is not. We practise the procedure with the dummy. (Dummy baby, that is) Check baby's heart beat using the stethoscope, while Doc tries to revive it with the 'bag'. Share a look. It's not good news. Take over pumping oxygen bag while Dr Don administers injection into fake placenta. Baby revives. Dr Don looks meaningfully at Nina (Asher Keddie). Happy ending. Yay.
I hope to goodness I don't stuff it up.
There are lots of rehearsals and direction from the director and instructions from a midwife, the medical expert on set. It's actually quite intense, especially when they bring in the real baby (his first big break in television) and he's crying and it's hard to make it look like we're reviving him. Dishy Dr Don puts his gloved finger in the little baby's mouth and he sucks on it contentedly for a while. The baby must like the taste of latex. They cover both the fake baby and the real baby in jam and other slimy stuff. The real baby does a real poop. Fortunately it's just a little bit but the noise is pretty funny. Yeah, I know, small things... Then Dr Don makes me laugh again when the fake baby's penis falls off and he puts it in the baby's mouth like a dummy. Small things, alright! The good thing is I get to look into Dr Don's very nice eyes when we share looks of concern.
Anyway, it works out pretty well. But the takes with the real baby feel quite different from the those with the fake baby. Hope the editors do their job.
Dr Don and I certainly did ours.
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