Movie-Making Weekend 2 - A Big Success!

This past weekend I got to go back to Louisville for another day of shooting on "The Perfect Gift." I had such an amazing time, even though the day was long and laborious. We were basically shooting about seven pages of one scene throughout the entire day. And of course, the whole thing was shot backwards, so there was no rhyme or reason to much of it.

I got there about 9:30 Saturday morning, after experiencing a delicious omelet at the Embassy Suites. I had brought most of my closet with me, so the director Jefferson would have his pick of what I would be wearing. After getting dressed, I got to sit down in the hair chair. I don't really know what she did there, but she sprayed some stuff and combed something. Then I got to sit with the wonderful Cassie in the makeup chair. She's so amazing—so calming, so loving, and encouraging. Everything a nervous actor needs.

While in the chair, I could look out the window and see a huge group of people moving across the parking lot. I said, "Hmm...look at all those people! I wonder what they're doing?" Cassie said, "Those are the extras for the shoot today." That immediately jazzed me up. I've been an extra on so many shoots. I know how miserable it can be. How thankless. And how much you feel like a dumb sheep being herded around and generally treated like crap. And how it feels to look up and see the "important" people getting to do the real acting...and wonder if I'd ever get that chance.

My first motion picture extra work was in the early 90s, in the not-yet-classic film "Drop Dead Fred" starring Phoebe Cates, a guy who was on "ER" (Ron Eldred, I think) and another guy who was in the British sitcom, "The Young Ones." I got to be in a giant food fight scene that took place in a swanky downtown Minneapolis restaurant. I was in prime position. When the camera was on Phoebe eating dinner, I was directly behind her. You could totally see the back of my head. It was awesome. My big break, I was certain. I discovered if I "reacted" a bit to the commotion, and turned my head, you would probably see my actual face. I did a lot of sideways glances that day. Can you imagine how thrilled I was when the director actually came over to my table. I leaned toward him. He graciously whispered in my ear, "Don't turn around so much." There goes my Oscar. (Though the side of my head did make it onto the back of the DVD box. Score!)

This past weekend was surreal in so many ways. I wasn't an extra. I actually had a very sizeable role in this scene. I play the antagonist in the film, and this was my big day to present my case to the City Council. I pretended to be Harry Hamlin in "L.A. Law"—but don't tell anybody I told you that. We shot the crowd scenes first, a lot of "over my shoulder" looking at the crowd kind of stuff. Then at the end of the day, we did my medium and close-up shots. For those shots, the extras were gone, and I acted to a few crew people, and in my head, my high school drama teacher Mr. Fortney, who let me be the only guy he didn't cast in "Pippin," my senior year musical. More on that later.

During the shoot, I also realized the value of kindness, and how incredibly easy it can be to show some. I pictured myself as an extra, hoping that Phoebe Cates would even just make eye contact with me—to acknowledge my existence as a fellow actor, much less a fellow person. So Smeby decided to not be Phoebe. I had some awesome conversations with some of the fellow actor/people working that day. I was honored to hear about Steve's son, Nils' desire to act, and Evan's passion for writing and teaching. I was also thrilled to mostly remember all my lines.

Overall, I was blown away by the attitude on the set. It was an attitude of encouragement—people would actually clap for each other between takes. Jefferson was an amazing director/writer/actor—continually being gracious to everyone, especially as he'd explain the process of filmmaking to those who were on their first set.

I left feeling on top of the world. There had been a terrible snow and ice storm while we were shooting inside the City Hall, but I managed to lug all my clothes back into my trunk, scrape off my car, and once back in my hotel room, celebrate an amazing day with some delicious mint chocolate chip ice cream. This joy, this gratitude, this blown-awayness—of having received an opportunity I've only dreamed of—feels like incredible success.

There is nothing sexy about movie-making.

Seriously. Unless you've actually been on a set you have no clue how mundane and boring, as well as intense and intimidating, it can be. Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining. It's actually a dream come true to be in a movie, with actual cameras, lights, make-up, and catering. I'm thrilled to have been cast in a really charming Christmas film called "The Perfect Gift" filming up in Louisville over the next few months. I've got the best part in the whole movie. I play the guy who's actually trying to steal Christmas from a local church. The big scene we shot on Saturday was me going in to tell the Pastor they have to take down the Nativity Scene they put up in front of their church. Yep, I'm that guy.

Okay, so the strange part about the weekend was that in the middle of my dream-come-true experience being in a movie, there was a ton of really freaky stuff happening. Stuff that kept happening that (as I like to say) was trying to steal my joy. And I was committed to not letting that happen, cause, heck, I was in a movie!

I can't tell you everything that happened because some of it was actually very personal and had me in tears. But I can tell you about waking up in my hotel room Saturday morning and finding out there was no water in the whole area. I was filming a movie and I couldn't take a dang shower! How crazy is that? If you haven't watched the news at all, you probably aren't aware of the massive ice storm that paralyzed much of Kentucky. Louisville was hit hard. It looked like an incredibly powerful tornado went through the town, followed by Mr. Freeze (from Batman) covering everything with a thick layer of ice. Power was out all over the place, and many people didn't even have cell phone service. It felt a bit like being in a Third World country, all the while it was 60 degrees in Nashville, just three hours south. But as a result of not having water, I got to meet Steve Scarborough and his family. Deacon Steve lived across the street from the church where we were filming, and volunteered his shower for my use. His house was turned into a refuge for his extended family members to sleep, eat, do laundry or shower. Steve's wife was cooking a huge breakfast that morning, and I noticed a giant turkey in the oven. Their amazing gift of hospitality, revealed by the tragedy of storm, blessed me.

Hundreds of guys from power companies around the region pulled their repair trucks into my hotel parking lot (and others nearby) to help out the struggling crews in Kentucky. Even though I'm sure they had to leave the comfort of home and their families behind, I love how this horrible storm revealed the selflessness of these guys—showing how we can help each other out when others are in trouble and we have the resources.

I stopped to get gas just outside of Bowling Green. I started to wash my windshield with the squeegee thingy, and quickly noticed something smearing on the glass. I first thought it was bird poop. But it wouldn't come off. It actually got worse the more I tried to wipe it off. The young kid emptying the garbage tried his best to help me, first using Coke to get it off, then trying a razor blade. Nothing worked. But he did figure out it was actually engine oil on my windshield. Bummer. He pointed me to a hardware store down the street in Smith's Grove where I met a really great man (David Manning) who generously gave his time to try and help me with several different kinds of cleaning sprays. This was the typical small town hardware store, overcrowded and friendly, with free popcorn by the backdoor. I'm thankful I got to experience David's compassion, revealed by the ickiness of the oil on my windshield.

Yes, I was in a movie this past weekend, and I have a couple more days of shooting ahead. I'm blown away by that. Still, I'm more blown away by the effortless way circumstances attempt to try and determine my mood. But if I have my sights set on joy and gratitude, then challenges I meet merely become opportunities to experience nuanced revelations of unexpected beauty.