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September 23, 2008
My life as an extra in a Hollywood film
By AMBERLY DYER  When I first walked into the tent, I recognized about 25 Hatteras islanders out of the more than 150 extras who were on hand to film the post-hurricane party for the feature film, "Nights in Rodanthe." That’s right -- not even a full quarter of the extras were local. It felt very weird. Second, the casting staff did not tell me it was a "party" scene. I was told to bring clothes to appear as a "hurricane survivor" and was explicitly told not to wear makeup. So, I showed up in shorts, a T-shirt, and "Wanchese slippers," which are white rubber fishing boots. The girls at the table next to me were put into cute dresses. My jeans and T-shirt quickly looked old and frumpy. The wardrobe staff handed me a sleeveless dress to put over my T-shirt. It was easily four sizes too big. A staff member said I looked "fine." Miss Jazania O’Neal, also an extra, said later that I looked "like an orphan dressed in a potato sack." Worst of all, the dress itched. So, I complained. The wardrobe folks grudgingly gave me a brown T-shirt, and my friend brought by my denim jacket so I could survive the windy night in some style. After we were bused to the Rodanthe pier two blocks away, we lined up along the ramp, waiting to be picked for a scene. It reminded me of team selection for kickball in elementary school. I was sent to the set below the pier house, where I was handed a Budweiser beer bottle filled with ginger ale, but I got permission to carry my grandma’s vintage blue "Life’s a Beach" koozie, emblazoned with a Cape Hatteras Lighthouse. I was placed facing the ocean in the scene. I kept trying to glance over my shoulder to see what was going on. A friend from Kitty Hawk, Lois Nelms, pointed out the red Xs in the sand. "That’s where the stars are going to be standing," she whispered. The spot was about three feet away. So, I’ll admit, while I’m not gaga over Richard Gere, it was pretty exciting to be close enough to hear his conversation with Diane Lane between takes. Nothing interesting, really, just kind of cool. Being an extra, you don’t talk, and you do the little stuff as directed. Pretending to talk, eating oysters, or strolling by became assigned tasks. Pantomiming is more difficult than you think. It’s really hard when you have to walk up to other people and talk boisterously while you are shucking an oyster. We just got ourselves busy "eating" oysters, while being careful not to put our lips on them because of the amount of time they sat at room temperature in the warm weather. Next, we worked in the background while the crew shot close-ups on the pier. This is when it got chaotic. At least three different assistant directors of some sort came and went giving directions, including the instruction to "pick up a bottle from the table so you have something in your hands." There were empties and bottles "on ice" from the prior scene. When the guy next to me brought one back, he snapped the top as before, but this time there was a pop. It was warm beer. Word spread quickly through the crowd, which had been working at least six or seven hours by then. Folks helped themselves, though I saw none of the teens or minors snitching one, and most of the beer was soon gone. After the take, the props manager came to retrieve the bottles for use on the pier. He had an absolute fit that real beer had been drunk. Words such as "liability" and "drinking on the job" were thrown around. For a minute, I thought we’d all get kicked off and not paid. Fortunately, someone needed him, and the local pirates quietly slipped away. The night was long, but most people made it up onto the pier for the various dance scenes I got home at about 3:30 a.m., wind blown and cold. I was still a bit giddy from the excitement. Sharing the stories a few times was fun, but now, like everyone else, I’ll be looking in the background when the film is released to see if I make the cut. Look for the blue koozie. It’s the only one at the party. |
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