I’ve talked before about working in Film and TV. It’s a weird environment, and something that takes some getting useful. So I was shooting the other day, and the scene calls for ‘the most beautiful woman in the bar’, and since it was a CBS procedural, she inevitably ends up dead a few scenes later. That’s the way the world of TV works usually. I walk to set, and of course, the woman that they cast is breathtaking. I make a note in my head that the casting director knew what he or she was doing just keep my head down while they’re coordinating the scene.
As soon as they finished that, I hear “OK, first team in!”.
Turns out that the breathtaking woman was just the stand-in for the real actress, who was somehow even more gorgeous than the first. I guess it was kind of in that moment that looks kind of just took a backseat to everything. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, but after working for a bit, you start realizing that looks, while they can be incredibly alluring, are pretty much out of our control. Attractive is attractive, but there’s a blindness that you develop when you become acclimated to it. I’m not too proud to say that it’s actually changed how I approach dating. I still think physical attraction is necessary, but I’ve started to rethink exactly how essential it is, and what that really means.
Notes from the Wardrobe Department:
[Yes, these are all real things I’ve overheard]
“This isn’t my size, I’m a size 2.”
– Oh, honey, whoever’s been telling you that has to love you very much
Read the wardrobe notes, what does it say?
– “Bring a suit jacket, pressed. Not wrinkled in a ball and tossed in a bag.”
– What are you literally holding?
– “A suit jacket, wrinkled in a ball and tossed in a bag.”
What waist size are you?
– Sorry I meant what waist size are you now, not 20 years ago.
“Give me another dress, this isn’t my color.”
– Yeah, the color of the dress is the problem.
“I look like a flamboyant gigolo!”
– Well, don’t show up to a formal banquet scene in sweatpants, a t-shirt, and piss us off.
So a few weeks ago, a night shoot went late (hey, remember your lines folks!) and we ended up wrapping at 3am in the middle of fucking nowhere Brooklyn. At that point, I said fuck it and ordered an Uber. If you’ve never seen it before, any production, even a minor one, takes up a ton of space. The sheer amount of equipment and personnel requires multiple trucks, a large area cordoned off, and a huge amount of permits are posted everywhere to let you know that essentially this space is going to occupied. As per wardrobe I was dressed in a very nice suit and just fucking exhausted. So the Uber came and saw me walking from set to just collapse in the backseat. This man was the most chipper person that I’ve ever met at 3am in the morning. He immediately asked if I was coming from work. I answered truthfully, saying that I just finished working, and somehow this guy bumped his energy to an even higher level. He asked if I came straight from set, what show it was for, what job I was doing on set, and if I was an actor…all in the span of about 30 seconds. The ride from the location in Brooklyn to my apartment was 15 minutes. This driver asked about my entire life story and wanted to know every job that I ever held where I possibly could have ended up on a screen. The funniest thing however though, was once I reached my apartment, he insisted on taking a selfie with me in his car before I left. I assured him that I was an absolute nobody, but he said, “I just want to show everyone back home that I had a real TV star in my car.” So I smirked, and mugged for his cell phone, and then left the car.
If anything, this is almost a guarantee that my scene will be cut from the episode.
But, if I’m ever a big deal in Bangladesh, I’ll have to thank my Uber driver.