Not at all Glamorous

Late Sunday evening, I got a call from my agent that I booked a role as a customer for a national SAG commercial. Score! I'd need to drive 90 miles each way to another city for the shoot, but I'd be reimbursed for mileage. Great! I got an email letting me know when I needed to be where and what type of clothes to bring. Can do!

A mere twelve hours after my agent's phone call, I arrived at the location and was directed into a parking spot. I signed in and did my paperwork. One of the production ladies told me that the call time was pushed back half an hour, didn't I get the message?, no, oh well. My first half hour would be unpaid. No big! I asked about my mileage reimbursement. The Production Assistant and the Production Coordinator whispered to each other that I would not be eligible for mileage money, but they never bothered to answer me directly.

Then I sat in an air-conditioned trailer for about ten hours chatting with other cast and crew members, reading a magazine cover-to-cover, drinking water, nibbling stale pretzels and texting my husband about how bored I was.

Finally I was ushered to the set. I rehearsed the short scene a few times. Then the director decided he didn't like what I was wearing, and sent me with the wardrobe lady to change clothes. He wanted me in a style of clothes completely different from all the clothes I was instructed to bring, and had lugged into the wardrobe room. Thank goodness the wardrobe ladies were prepared for such contingencies and steamed the wrinkles out of an outfit for me. Thank goodness the outfit fit my curvy figure. I had to leave the itchy price-tags attached and tucked into the clothes against my skin, so that the wardrobe peeps can return the worn clothes when the shoot is over. Ewww.

I went back to set, where the director approved of the new outfit. I spent half an hour walking back and forth pretending to admire goods in the store. Because the shoot was running so far behind schedule, and because the sun had set, super-bright lights were employed to make it look like daytime. The super-bright lights inspired lots of sweat and high temperatures. When sound is being recorded, the air-conditioners and fans must be turned off so as not to interfere with the sound. Cue more sweat.

After finishing my scene, I exited the sweaty set to get a cold drink and cool off. Within ten minutes, a Production Assistant was sent to wrangle me back into the sweaty room, where I was instructed to sit and wait out of view and out of the way in case they needed me again. So I sat. And sat. And sat. For another four hours. Finally one of the guys who actually gave a hoot about the budget asked why I, along with two other actors, were still there. Could we go? Hold on. They'll check. Ten minutes later, we were allowed to leave. I put my own clothes back on my body. I lugged all of my clothes, shoes and accessories back to my car. None of the strong men standing around offered to help me. I got in my car and drove 90 miles home, singing loudly with all the AC vents pointed at my face to stay awake.

Making commercials, movies and TV shows is not at all glamorous. Red carpet events and movie premieres are only about 1% of the job and only for the top 1% of celebrities. You've been warned, aspiring actors and crew.