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Being Extra Special

Our vintage dancing group was asked to provide the historical background for a Studio C skit last summer as extras decked out in our own handmade Regency robes. This skit, “One Last Dance,” aired in November. Being involved in a production like this was an interesting experience- both in good and bad ways. We learned a few things about the film industry; the adjective “ridiculous” applies to many of those discoveries:

Like most members of our dance group, I did my own hair for the shoot. I still got some time in the make-up chair though.
Like most members of our dance group, I did my own hair for the shoot. I still got some time in the make-up chair though.
  1. The film industry takes hierarchies to ridiculous heights. The chain of command is long and inflexible. During our filming, the director would pass his instructions onto the assistant director. The assistant director would belt them out to the group. A background director was the only one that spoke to us, the lowly extras, directly. Even the meals were hierarchical. We weren’t allowed to eat lunch with the rest of the crew even though they had plenty Mediterranean fare to spare. Instead, we got to munch cold pizza by ourselves in another building. Maybe that’s normal for the film industry, but it felt pretty ridiculous to us.
  2. Filming is hot. Literally, hot. Cast and crew members are crammed together while bright lights blast them. It’s not overly comfortable.
  3. Filming gets foggy. Fog machines spewed out haze endlessly during our shoot. This was to give the setting a dreamy effect, or so we were told. It made me feel like I was in a gambling hall rather than a dancing hall.
  4. Filming takes a lot of people, most of which are never on camera. Our set was packed with crew doing all sorts of things with ladders, cords, lighting, cameras, wardrobes, and makeup. Plus, a whole lot of people sat around watching screens the whole time. To be honest, I have no idea what they were all watching for.
  5. It takes a ridiculous amount of time to shoot scenes over and over from every possible angle. The filming of this 2:55 skit took over 13 hours. Every second of material required almost five minutes of production time. Wow! That seems pretty inefficient to me, but compared to industry norms, maybe it’s amazingly productive.
Cords and crew littered the set.
Cords and crew littered the set.
The main cast members were brought water and lip gloss every few minutes.
The main cast members were brought water and lip gloss every few minutes.

Although this was a fascinating educational experience, I don’t think Jason and I would be too eager to stand around fanning ourselves in a stuffy, smoke-filled room for hours and hours again. This may have been our first and last dance with Studio C.

This was the only time the main director talked to us extras.
This was the only time the main director talked to us extras.

If you’d like to see how expertly we portray ball attendees from the Regency period that believe the alphabet is the most exquisite conversation topic imaginable, I’ve included a link to the correct Studio C episode. Our skit starts about 12 minutes in. You may notice that I wondrously appear on both sides of the room at the same time; that miraculous maneuver meant I didn’t get a break like almost everyone else did.

Rachel January 16, 2018 No Comments

Pottery, Archery, and Piracy

Sometimes life doesn’t turn out exactly as imagined. Some events aren’t as dramatic or romantic as anticipated while others are more remarkable than expected. Here are a few of our fall experiences that proceeded as predicted or as unpredicted.

Activity: The Cannon Ball

Expectation: Awesome

Reality: Awesome

It’s impossible for a steampunk pirate ball with vintage dancing not to live up to expectations.

I wouldn't actually make a good pirate; plundering goes against my core values.
I wouldn’t actually make a good pirate; plundering goes against my core values.

Activity: Archery Tag

Expectation: Fun and Energetic

Reality: Fun and Tragic

We invited everyone in my family to play archery tag with us one evening, including all our nieces and nephews. I learned a few things about myself and the world during this strung-out activity. It turns out, my family as a conglomerate isn’t particularly skilled with bows. We lost most of our games against another family consortium.

Our tag team was rather ragtag.
Our tag team was rather ragtag.

You know those wrist guards that Legolas wears? Well, I guess they are for more than just elven frills. Midway through our tag session, I wacked myself with my bowstring while shooting. It hurt, and I instantly grew a goose egg on my forearm that looked ready to hatch. A few days later, half my arm turned a sickly shade of green. My Dad walked away from the affair with a similar limb wound.

With a few insignificant differences, I am remarkably like the heroically-flawed figures of myth. Eons ago, an arrow hit Achilles’ foot, his weak point, and everything fell apart. Playing archery tag, an arrow hit my foot, my weak spot, and everything fell apart. (Sure, I didn’t slay Hector, and I wasn’t exactly a champion of the Trojan War, but I’d say those are pretty insignificant differences.) Just minutes before our time in the arena was up, a guy on the opposing team saw my foot sticking out from behind a barrier and decided to target it. This wasn’t just any of my two feet though, it was the foot I had tendon surgery on years ago. His arrow flew, hit that surgery spot spot-on, and hurt me like hell. (Sorry, I can’t edit that last comment; the pain was too real for censoring.) Jason heard a loud smack and then a wretched scream. Play stopped, and I hobbled off the field. I held back my tears though; I’m tough in my flimsiness like that. My ankle swelled up so badly I had to elevate and ice it that night. I could barely walk for a couple days, and I couldn’t run for a week and a half. D#mn puniest point!

My ankle inflated after getting shot.
My ankle inflated after getting shot.

Activity: Wheel-Thrown Pottery

Expectation: Ghost

Reality: Coarse and Clumsy

It's really easy to misalign your clay blob and form a wobbly mess.
It’s really easy to misalign your clay blob and form a wobbly mess.

As a gift to Jason, I purchased a month of wheel-thrown-pottery classes for the two of us. He envisioned a Ghost-esque experience, but it ended up being more like a 2nd-grade art class. You know, making misshapen blobs that only your mother could pretend to love. At least that’s what Jason would tell you, but I was pretty pleased with our creations. I enjoyed the classes enough that I signed up for another month of them with my mom. She and I had a great time working clay and forming rookie pieces together.

Despite Jason's protestations, most of our pottery pieces turned out satisfactorily.
Despite Jason’s protestations, most of our pottery pieces turned out satisfactorily.
After another month of pottery lessons, the quality of my creations... stayed about the same.
After another month of pottery lessons, the quality of my creations… stayed about the same.

Life isn’t terribly predictable. Excitement and drama don’t always pop up in the places we envision. Yet, pop up they do.

Rachel January 2, 2018 No Comments

Turns of the Century

These days, you may be as likely to find Jason and me in period attire than in jeans and t-shirts. Somehow, our antiquated appearances seem to be escalating. In June, we attended and assisted with the Edwardian Ball hosted by Old Glory Vintage Dancers.

Jason was the bee's knees in his linen suit.
Jason was the bee’s knees in his linen suit.

We demonstrated dances and guided unsure steppers while dressed in beaded couture and fine white linens. It was an enchanting evening reeling with rock steps and crossover turns.

In the 1920s, women abandoned corsets. Thank goodness!
In the 1920s, women abandoned corsets. Thank goodness!

Incidentally, Jason always looks hotsy-totsy in his 20s menswear. Anytime he wants to skip the t-shirt and go straight for the tweed that’s fine with me.

Rachel July 25, 2017 No Comments
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