oloriel | Lyra & the movies

“By the way,” quoth Enlothien, “there’s this movie project where they’re still looking for extras. My entire re-enactment group takes part. Don’t you want to join in as well?”
What kind of movie, says I, and Something historical, says she, but not a documentary but a real movie. Based on a book. Henri IV.

And three days later I had an appointment for a costume fitting, which meant being assigned a basic character, trying on various costumes appropriate to that character until one fits (or can be made to fit), marching over to the make-up and hair crew, having two people wonder what on earth to do with my hair (because although it would be appropriate if all of us wore bonnets, the director wants only the soldiers to have their heads covered, so they have to put more thought into hairstyling- though they failed to come up with something nice for me), having two more people ask me whether I might be willing to sell my hair so they can make a wig from it, having some awful character shots taken and then being told thank you, please come back on Thursday, we can’t tell you the exact time yet but we’ll give you a call.

The call came, and thankfully it was 1pm, although it could as well have been 6pm because only then did we actually get to do any filming. We spent endless hours sitting around with nothing to do but eating, talking and making paper cranes because the film crew had been busy with a scene with 16 horses that should in fact have been wrapped by mid-day. Apparently 16 horses are a wee bit difficult to control, nor do they listen to directions well. (Occasionally, the make-up people dropped by, found that we all looked way too clean and put a lot of effort into covering our faces and costumes with fake grease and soot and dust and dirt. Even though it wasn’t real dirt but make-up, removing it later on was a pain – but I have found the perfect weapon against theatre dirt: Mud Flats soap from Lush. Here, that was product placement!)

When we finally got to film, it took a lot of takes until the two scenes planned for us today could be wrapped up. The first was random street life and went fairly quick; but the second was the attempted assassination of Admiral Coligny, and that took a lot of repeats. First it took various attempts until Eva (the assistant director, responsible for making us extras do the right thing) had found some occupation or other for enough people, then she had to add someone else here and someone else there, and then when we had practiced the whole thing a few times the “real” actors came into play. (I kept wondering who the Coligny actor was; I knew the face, but couldn’t remember where from, which was kind of embarrassing. It was Karl Marcovics, the guy who played the lead in The Counterfeiters…) Again there were several repeats for every possible camera angle – from the street, from the other side of the street, from across the road, from out of the window – plus still shots and sound takes. At one point one of my fellow Random Citizens collided with a camera (which was actually the camera guy’s fault more than hers, because she wasn’t doing anything differently from the takes before when there had been no collision). At that time it was past 11pm; still we were surprised when suddenly Eva called it a wrap for that day. I had a really stupid job in that scene, too: I got to carry a basket of vegetables along the street, disappear around the corner, then Coligny is shot and I run back to see what it was. Together with two other curious citizens I follow the guards taking Coligny to safety and get the door of the town hall slammed in our faces – and then we march off in the direction I came from. Well, I suppose those eggplants just needed to be taken for a nice walk through Paris, then.

I was asked to come again on Monday at 6 am (>.<), where I had very little sitting around to do (and this time I had brought a book). First we got to do starving citizens; that took about 30 repetitions, during all of which I had to pretend to desperately chew on some stupid plant. After ten or so takes, three of the main actors (including the king camouflaged as a pauper) came again to march up and down the street and marvel at the miserable state of the people and what to do about it. The take always ended just when they had passed my poor little plant-eating character, so they kept joking about that. One of them was German, and said he was wondering whether he should tell me, but just a few moments ago a small dog had pissed on that very plant. I couldn’t think of anything better to say than “I know, that’s why it hasn’t fallen prey to the drought yet”. The next take, one of the French guys (who was apparently playing a minister to the king, and kept feeling the king up between takes >:D) asked (in very cute English) whether it was a nice plant. “Oh yes, very delicious,” says I, so he asked whether he could try it. “Sure,” say I, and he actually helped himself to a dried-up flower. His verdict? “Not bad, with some salt and pepper.”

When that scene was finally done, the extras got to stay and do sound takes for another street/market scene. “Just talk about normal things! But no soccer and no cars.” Hah, hah! I had terribly uncooperative conversation partners most of the time (“Yes… hmmm… yes… oh no!... yes, really”), so I got to repeat my little piece about The Disgustingly High Prices of Cabbage and My Neighbours’, the Bonnechance’s, Second Daughter Monique Who Is No Better Than She Should Be Really about three times until I finally ended up with people who wanted to buy some chicken for a tarnished gold chain. (“That can’t be gold! gilded silver at best!”) We had real chicken, btw (and real goats! and real pigs! and real children!), of some ancient race. They were sooooooo stupid, but very picturesque.
Then it was lunch time, and after that we got to work again; still market, but this time there was an impostor making fun of the king and his questionable affections (with the king, again dressed up as a pauper, listening), so the depressive mood from the first scene was completely gone. Instead we got to laugh and clap a lot. The goats and pigs added to the amusement (whereas the impostor’s lines were no longer quite so funny on the 10th repetition). And we’ll all be looking out for bloopers in the finished film: Between takes, one the goats shat on the ground, so maybe there will be a scene with mysteriously disappearing goat shit! Also the potter in the background managed to produce a new vase every take, so first there’s one vase, then two, then three… we will all count the vases on his stall with bated breath! >:D
Then we got to do some street and market action yet again with GIGANTIC bull (seriously, that thing had the size of an elephant, and more bulk, and yes, it was real) and then the final scene of the day: THE PLAGUE! Suddenly out of the dust there came a doctor type calling exactly that (and all the extras had to bite their tongues to keep from adding “ON BOTH YOUR HOUSES!”), had to run through the heard of primeval chicken and past “my” market stall, where Enlo and I had to panic and pack our stuff up and run into “our” house while other people panic as well and riders go past (still through the chicken). “Do you think that’ll work?” says the camera boss, and “Of course, no problem,” says the director, and the extras, the chicken woman, the riders and the doctor exchange doubtful glances. Of course we were right; the doctor almost stumbles over his robes in an attempt not to stomp on the chicken who, naturally, run off in every direction; the horsemen have trouble squeezing past the camera cart without trampling any extras; and the eggs, red beets and parsnips in our market basket (at least by now they have removed the extremely un-period tomatoes!) try to escape, too. PANDEMONIUM! But the director is content, it all looks very real, and after just three takes it’s a wrap. The last take was truly scary; I just barely manage to turn out of the way of one of the chargers that in turn has to evade a chicken (did I mention how stupid those chicken were?). The panic in this scene doubtlessly looks real, because it IS real.

And that was that. Now it’s waiting and seeing whether any of us manage to catch a glimpse of ourselves in the movie. (We’re going to meet up and see the movie together, those of us extras who got along well. The poor Cinedom will never know what hits it. I already apologise in advance to any innocent cinema-goers who may be disturbed by our “THERE! that was my left foot!”, “Where are you going with those eggplants?”, “Aaahahah! The mysterious disappearing goat shit!” and the like….)

It was an experience, at any rate; somewhat sobering, certainly stressful, but quite fun after all. And definitely fascinating. Probably during my next cinema visits I will pay more attention to the extras than to the main characters or the plot – it’s already started; Enlo and I went to see The Letter for the King (shut up, it’s a wonderful book, and the movie is cute enough, if somewhat odd in the pacing department) and we suddenly kept noticing people in the background we never would have seen before.

And of course if there ever is a Henri IV-Con, I, too, can be a VIP guest! As the girl in the grey dress who takes her eggplants for a walk.* ;)

EDITH: Lookit, there's a pic of Enlo, moi and a third ~~Hobbit~~ citoyenne:

Paris, 1563: Die Frisur hält.
Due to the spotlights and the flash you can't actually see how filthy we are. We looked, in fact, as though we'd frolicked in a muddy field. After climbing through a chimney.

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*Ok, you probably won’t get this one unless you’re familiar with Ring*Con.