I am not an actor, nor have I ever had any inclination to be one. I love entertainment, I want to make film and television, but I never desired to be in front of the lens.
I've followed casting and production pages for the past few years as an avenue to get work in the industry. Sometimes I'd apply to be a background actor just because I knew an actor or liked the show. I usually never heard back.
That is, until I came across a posting for the Sex and the City reboot, And Just Like That.., this July. The series premiered on Dec. 9 on HBO Max.
The job posting specifically called for LGBTQ+ applicants. It had been posted twenty-four hours before I saw it. (Grant Wilfley Casting) I had some good selling points; I'm a lesbian. I have a place to stay in Brooklyn. (Thanks again, Vicki!)
They got back to me in twenty minutes and asked for materials. Since I'm not an actor, I didn't have anything an actor should have. Like a union membership. Or headshots.
I sent over some of my best-dressed selfies and hopped in the shower, anticipating a polite thanks, but we're all set in my inbox when I got out. I opened their response as I dried my hair.
I was scheduled for a COVID-19 test at their studio headquarters in New York City the following day.
I lived in Connecticut. And I'd just taken some ZZZQuil.
I cobbled together a game plan in the two hours it took for the sleep aid to fill my system. Train schedules, fares, sleeping arrangements, budget, clothes.
That last one was especially challenging, because I needed to bring options for wardrobe. I waded through increasingly-sluggish mental math for 3-4 outfit combinations before I was satisfied they'd have enough to choose from. I collapsed into bed as soon as I managed to close my bulging carry-on.
I caught a train on the Harlem line early the next morning and made my way to the backlot in an unforgiving, odorous, and humid heat reserved for NYC alone. The test was a quick five minute ordeal after close to four hours of travel.
As I was leaving, I ran into another person who seemed lost. It's funny- one look at each other, and we both knew what we were there for. I smiled, answering the question before they could ask. "The testing for And Just Like That is straight down that way. I hope I'll see you soon!"
I returned to my friend's studio and breezed through the network's mandatory modules. I tried Sweetgreen for the first time, and watched the newest episode of Motherland to calm my nerves. I made the mistake of staying up until call sheets came out. It landed in my inbox just after midnight and, thankfully, extras were due at 10:30.
FILMING
Since this trip was my first serious venture into the city's sprawling subway system, I left way earlier than necessary. I stopped in a cafe to grab an iced coffee and a quick bite to eat before heading to the shoot's home base. (A private school whose yearly tuition was 3x what I paid for college.)
Now, this was my first experience on a set— period. I don't know what the gold standard is. I do know that every crew member I interacted with over those two days was courteous and encouraging through the entire process. The production assistants and assistant directors who checked us in and wrangled us were patient and kind. The wardrobe team helped us look our best and made sure we knew it. The ladies in hair and makeup dissolved my first-day jitters with smiles behind their masks, and soft questions about how I landed in their chair that morning. There's an old mantra in entertainment that applies to crew members and talent alike: hurry up and wait. It's a fast-paced industry that takes time. Filming began about three hours after I'd arrived. I guessed we'd be working with Sara Ramirez by the job posting, which called for LGBTQ+ individuals to act as patrons of a comedy club owned by Che Diaz, the non-binary character Ramirez had been authentically casted as. I was waiting to be handed a prop beer in Webster Hall's lobby when someone sweetly said: Excuse me. I reflexively apologized, turning to see Sara cutting through the line behind me. They said we all looked cute, and I froze up so bad that I couldn't even chime in a thank you along with some of the other extras. What I didn't know was that the three main ladies of Sex and the City would also be in attendance. I was talking to some of the people around me when I heard a bright, clear laugh over the muted chatter. I leaned forward and saw Sarah Jessica Parker, Cynthia Nixon, and Kristin Davis getting settled on their marks. Oddly enough, I was less nervous during the shoot than I'd been in my few brushes with smaller celebrities at various conventions. It felt more like a job, I guess. It was a job. I got paid to hype up an actor I loved. I'd do that for free. Over the course of thirteen hours, we ran through Che's stand-up routine dozens of times. And while the episode paints a night of raucous laughter, most takes were silent as the main ladies of SATC knocked out their dialogue. Those three pantomime lessons in middle school drama class were finally paying off.
Whatever reservations you have about the reboot, I have a lot of respect for the production for seeking out LGBTQ+ background talent. Although, I think there's two bonuses there: you cast authentically, and most of your extras show up camera-ready. It's a win-win. We wrapped around 11 that night. I took a train back to Brooklyn, stopped for small fries at McDonalds, and then crashed onto my friend's futon. Our second day was slated to start at 1:30 PM. Once wardrobe and makeup cleared two dozen of us returning patrons for continuity, our nightclub troop walked down a crowded street to satellite holding. We returned to the concert venue, now converted and consolidated into a modern bar scene. I got a different prop drink with a lime garnish.
Assistant directors put us together in pairs and groups. It was nice getting to know some of the other actors between takes- and humbling. These people had done background work on acclaimed shows and movies- from Russian Doll & Marvelous Ms. Maisel to West Side Story and In the Heights. It didn't matter that I was a freshman, though. A few people were excited when I told them it was my first gig. The whole experience felt like summer camp, in a way. The final scene was a brief, 30-40 second exterior shot outside the nightclub. We started around 10PM that Friday night, sweating in the 90 degree heat and glistening under a crane's floodlight from the end of the block. The outdoor scene was actually shot in front of the same venue as the indoor scenes. As AD's moved us around, a crowd began forming on the sidewalk across the street. Dozens of shadows appeared in the windows of an apartment building (or dormitory) above us. Everyone craning for a glance of whatever had taken over the neighborhood.
Paparazzi got chastised as they crossed into the street- where a water truck was slowly dispensing hundreds of gallons onto the asphalt. All of us were given directions on what to do; Walk from one point to another. Talk on the phone. Wait 10 seconds between. Look for a taxi. Cheers broke out as SJP, Kristin, and Cynthia appeared. We did a few masked run-throughs of the scene; a few small changes were made, and then the cameras were rolling. The crowd quickly realized that filming is not nearly as glamorous as the final product. Stars appear for a few scene repetitions, and leave as cameras and lights are adjusted for the next close ups. In fact, the final shots didn't involve the actors at all. Us extras strutted on a sidewalk for B-Roll for the last hour or so until we finally wrapped at 2 AM. Those of us with wardrobe pieces needed to stop by the private school to return them. I remember the walk back fondly. Weary grins and bubbling laughter as we reveled in our shared experience. After a year of quarantine and my own abundant caution, it felt so, so good to be able to connect with people again. And was sweetened even more with the knowledge that all of us belonged to the same community. I didn't realize how much I craved that until it was over. And while I don't plan on making a career out of background acting, I am so, so grateful for the experience nonetheless. Beyond giving me a new fun fact about myself, it gave me a chance to finally step onto a professional set, to speak with crew members, and to simply marvel at all of the work and talent that goes into producing media. And, most importantly, gave me hope for my career in this field when I needed it most. To trying new things and serendipitous chances.
