Monthly Archives: August 2009

Question for Coordinators

Who decides whether to send a PA or a teamster to pick something up?  And why?  It seems so arbitrary.

Somethings are pretty standard.  If it’s too big to fit in a PA mobile like a Civic or a Corolla, the teamsters will pick it up in a truck.  If it’s a script delivery, a PA will always take it.  (I guess they’re afraid a teamster might scare the actor or something.)

But one day they’re picking up walkies, and the next day I go to the same place to pick up walkie chargers.  Sometimes I go to the expendables store, sometimes they do.  I just don’t understand how the decisions is made.

Just Joking

When you’re carrying something big and heavy around a corner or down some stairs, it’s usually good form to call out a warning, like “Points!”, to make sure you don’t smack someone in the face. It doesn’t really matter if it’s pointy or not; it’s just what you say.

Sometimes people try to come up with some more clever, though. I knew this one grip who would shout, “Free dental work!” when carrying track around.

It was funny the first time I heard him say it. It was even mildly amusing the third or fourth time. At the end of the first week, it was still a charming quirk.

But after three or four weeks of this incessant repetition, I couldn’t take any more. “Dude, seriously, get a new joke.”

“What are you talking about?” he asked. “It’s not a joke.”

I took a moment to consider his objection, and reconfirmed my original claim. “Yes, it is. It’s a facetious statement intended to illicit laughter.”

“No. If someone doesn’t get out of the way, I’ll smash their teeth in with the track.”

“If I punched someone in the face and broke their nose, would you call it rhinoplasty?”

He asked me what rhinoplasty was, and after I explained the big, scary, polysyllabic word (and, subsequently, “polysyllabic” (and “subsequently” (man, some grips are dumb (apologies to Dollygrippery)))), he once again claimed he wasn’t kidding.

It was at this point that I realized he really didn’t understand that it was a joke. Somebody, somewhere made this crack once, he heard it, misunderstood, and decided he liked the idea of rearranging someone’s teeth with a C-stand.

I didn’t talk to him much after that.

Google

Quick post tonight (it’s late), then a serious one tomorrow.

I googled several combinations of my anonymous self, and found some interesting results. I hold the number one spot for both “anonymous production assistant” and “production assistant blog.” I’m right behind anonymousassistant.com in a search for “anonymous assistant.”

But if you look up “production assistant,” I don’t even crack the top 50! There’s seriously something wrong there. I mean what does eHow know about being a PA that I don’t?

Call for Stories

I’ve been writing this blog for over a year now.  My original intention was to write a new post every day.  These last few weeks (not to mention an inbox full of “have you quit or what?” emails) have convinced me that perhaps I can no longer maintain that pace alone.

So, I’m asking you, now and former production assistants, to send me your stories.  After all, how many Stupid Actress Stories can one guy have, before he starts repeating himself?

Because this is an anonymous blog, you can tell your tale freely and honestly.  In fact, if I do my job correctly, the readers won’t even know which stories are me, and which have been sent in by others.  (Truth be told, some old posts are second-hand accounts that I’ve transformed into first person.)

As an added bonus, those aspiring to enter the business will read a broader range of perspectives than my meager experience can provide alone.

Lastly, I hope to pass this site on to someone else, one day, after I’ve moved on to bigger and better things.  This will help begin the passing of the torch.

If you’re interested, please email me at the address provided to the right.

Dressing for the Part

The show I’m on recently had a flashback to the 70s. (Don’t ask me why. As far as I’m concerned, the only good things to come out of the 1970s were Star Wars, Jaws, and my wife.)

Seeing a rack of bell bottoms and wide-collared shirts, I struck up a conversation with the set costumer.

“Must be pretty easy, the 70s? Just go to any thrift store and buy some old clothes, right?”

“Oh, no,” he said. “Period clothing from the recent past is the biggest pain in the ass. A lot of the audience was alive then, and they remember what the clothes should look like. They know [clothing X] didn’t come out until 1978, and this episode is supposed to be 1976.”

He actually mentioned a specific brand of clothing, but I don’t remember what it was, mostly because I don’t care. Still, it’s pretty cool that this guy gets paid to care a lot.

He went on to explain that, in the 1500s or 1600s, fashions didn’t change as fast as they do now. For one, most people couldn’t afford to buy new clothes every year, much less every season. Royalty and nobility could, but, much the same way fads move from the coasts to the middle of the country today, fashion had to travel from one population center to another, and travel back then was much, much slower.

Speaking of being behind the times, I asked him about the fact that none of our characters had clothes from the 1960s, or early 70s. After all, I’m wearing a T-shirt I’ve had since college.

He shrugged. “Well, the show is only forty minutes. The clothes are really just a visual cue to help place the audience in the right time frame. Sometimes ‘realism’ is more distracting than the heightened fiction we create.”

I have to say, I usually don’t think much of the wardrobe department, but I found new respect for them after hearing the nuances of thought and care put into every little article of clothing.

Simple Etiquette

First of all, let me apologize for not posting in a while. Rexwas almost right. Nobody’s found out that I write this blog, but that’s only because I’ve been very, very careful of late.

One of our set PAs fell sick, and I had to fill in for him. (The other office PA had no set experience whatsoever.) The ADs liked me so much, they made me stick around for a few weeks.

Cursed by my own competence, I guess.

Anyway, I finally managed to convince them to let me back into the office, despite my wife’s objections. (She says I have more fun on set, and I’m more pleasant after a day of filming than a day in the office.)

So, I’m back, more or less.

While on set, I noticed a simple rule of etiquette that I’d forgotten about– Whoever’s carrying the biggest thing goes first.

If you see an electric hauling a light, or an AC carrying a camera, step out of the way, or hold the door for them.

And this is irrespective of rank. If you happen to be lugging around a stack of scripts, they’ll do the same for you. Even producers and directors will be polite enough to clear the way for grips moving some dolly track.

Of course, as you might assume, many actors don’t think this applies to them. Once again, the experienced and successful actors are an exception. They will probably wait at the bottom of the stairs if you’re carrying something heavy. The ingenues and guest stars probably will not.

We were shooting at a park the other day, and I helped the craft services guy move his stuff from one end of the location to the other. I lumbered along, carrying this huge crate piled high with chips and power bars and stuff. I could barely see over the top to notice an actress coming the other way.

She gave me a smile and said, “Hang on, one second.” For a moment, I actually thought she was going to help take some of the weight off my hands.

Then, while I stood their awkwardly holding this giant crate, she reached in, rooted around, and pulled out one granola bar.

“Thanks!” And she ran off.

God, I hate actresses.