The Career Break Saga Vol. 3

 A Shortcut to Mushrooms - The Career Break Saga Vol. 3: Week One Round-Up

 

Re(d)cap

Yes, you’ve guessed it, each subheading will be a mushroom pun and I’m not even going to apologise. If you’re allergic, or can’t stand the thought of their delicious, slug-like texture, I suggest you stop reading. Or, alternatively, you could just carry on regardless and hope for the best.

Last time we spoke, I was gearing up for the end of days (in the NHS) – scrambling to get a few agencies on board with various photos and trying my best not to inflate my talents on application forms (too much).

A mere week and one day ago was my last day in the NHS, and I’m still enjoying the gifted morsels I was given as a way to supplement my likely poor intake over the next few months. My colleagues, my friends, they have likely saved my life – at least in the short term. I will ration myself as best I can, while trying to scrape dregs from the bottom of food trucks on set – this is the way.

 

Absolutely Shitakeing Myself

So, Monday comes around quite quickly and I’ve got one job booked in on Wednesday (with a COVID test the day before). Feels like it might be a quiet week – not a good way to start when worried about finances.

Rather than mope about it (or rather in conjunction) I scour the internet for more agencies, drool over potential jobs on Facebook, and cry gently into my sleeve, telling my girlfriend that I’m not sad, but allergic to freedom.

It is 9:15am. A job flashes onto my phone screen.

URGENT casting call – Doctors, Birmingham. Must be able to get on set by 11:00.

I’m in Oxford – I’ll have to leave immediately to get there on time. I reply to the post – no response. I wait ten minutes, keeping my eye on the post- nothing. Another few minutes and an e-mail comes through

Can we suggest you for this role?

Yes. I say. Please, for I must eat more than tinned beans for my health if not for my sanity.

Another few minutes and my ability to get there by 11:00 is diminishing – so I call.

‘Shall I leave now?’ I ask.

‘Yes,’ they say. ‘You must. The entire production relies upon your presence and the team will be waiting for you, streamers in hand, confetti in pockets, and hope in their hearts.’

‘I will make it,’ I say. ‘I will save the BBC if it’s the last thing I do.’

Brilliant, I have a job, on my first day. I wasn’t expecting it, but I got one. So, I change much like Superman in a phone box (what does he do about that now, by the way?), ram some spare clothes (or options) into my rucksack, and dive into the car head first. I then realise my error, and reset with my feet in the footwell, where they belong.

With a smile on my face and concern on my brow, I race up the M40 (at an appropriate speed for the UK motorway system) and arrive at 11:00, almost on the dot. No parking spaces, so I race around to a road at the back where I parked last time, and get in at 11:10, also on the dot.

A guy at the desk gives me a lateral flow, which I proceed to shove up each nostril, adrenaline coursing through my veins and into the swab itself. It brings a tear to my eye, which I can only assume will give me the dewy-eyed appeal of Henry Cavill once he realises phone boxes are no longer readily available.

15 minutes of sitting in the car, waiting for the result, allowing the adrenaline to dissipate, and I return to a nice chap who takes me through to costume. Despite my plethora of options, they tell me what I’m wearing will do, and send me through to the waiting area. There’s a TV and some hard sofas with entirely upright backrests, to ensure you’re ready for action at any given moment.

I wait fifteen minutes – head buried in my phone, and I realise I have become more addicted to refreshing my Facebook feed than I ever thought possible. I am sure this will stick with me, and it might even give me an opportunity to displace my other, less healthy, addictions. Though I do wish I didn’t buy that new Hugo Boss crack pipe. What a waste.

Another half an hour passes and it starts to dawn on me that perhaps I am not the Messiah I was led to believe I was. Two more supporting artistes join me, having just filmed a thrilling scene where they walked down a corridor in the Doctors mock-up health clinic. They are told to wait in case they are needed again. I hear nothing, but have at least found a new potential job for Thursday and applied for a few others.

We chat for a bit, stomachs’ rumbling loudening with every minute that passes. Today’s episode of Doctors comes on the waiting room TV, enhanced by the wafting food smells from the simple canteen.

An executive decision is made by one of the other SAs who turns up with a polystyrene container in hand, half-filled with chips and some kind of chicken-based stick. He gnaws on it and tells the rest of us it’s ‘alright’. That’s all the convincing we need.

Eating (chips). Waiting. More waiting. Chatting. We tell each other tales of other such woes including waiting, eating (chips), and more waiting. We reminisce vicariously and dream of big roles in the future. Finally, at about 4pm (yes, five hours later), I am called to set, chips well-digested.

I meet a couple of the actors, one of which I will be walking down a corridor with. How exciting! And so, I walk my best walk, trying my best not to look at the camera as I pass it, then sit down and wait to reset. The scene is happening in a room I don’t even enter. I pass the door as if being shown out and the side of my head will be seen for up to, but not more than, half a second. We do this three or four times (for about ten minutes) then I’m taken back to the waiting room again.

Another half an hour of chat, and we are released back into the wild.

The end of my first day as a supporting artiste.

 

Button Up

Swiftly, I learn the amount of driving will be significant. Already at the end of day 2 I have clocked up over 200 miles following a PCR test at West London Film Studios. With petrol prices still knocking around the £1.60 mark, this will definitely be my greatest expense. I can claim back VAT on my tax return, but I won’t be getting that back for a long while yet. Plus, all those save-the-planet-walk-to-work efforts I’ve been putting in for the last 18 months will be negated in a matter of days. I’ll just have to plant a few trees, and maybe not shower… that’ll make up for it, surely.

Day three is my shoot on Ted Lasso, which I’m pretty excited about. Wear thermals as it’s an outdoor shoot, they tell us, and they weren’t joking. We are shepherded into what’s affectionately known as ‘Crowd Holding’ aka ‘The Pen’ or ‘The Creche’ or ‘The Bad Place’. This is a huge marquee set up in a carpark with the odd heater dotted around the place blowing air which is immediately whipped away by the April squalls. The costume, make-up and hair departments are squeezed into the warmest corner, huddled to share body heat and avoid frostbite to the peripheries. Fingerless hairdressers are not generally sought-after.

I was playing a camera operator for a presentation on a pitch, and that’s all I can say without being hung, drawn and quartered by Apple TV execs. Outdoors, yes, in a thin waterproof jacket, but at least they let me wear a jumper. We just about dodged a huge downpour, instead just dribbled on lightly from a great height.

Jason Sudeikis was there with Hannah Waddingham, and a couple of other characters I don’t know, and it was nice to be working alongside them (by alongside, I mean right at the back and barely in shot). Jason is actively involved in production and he seems to be a nice chap. I understand that people can get excited, but I thought the SA next to me might die when Jason walked onto the pitch. She was trying so hard to hold in her screams, I’m sure at one point one of her eyes nearly popped clean out. This was constant for the shoot, which luckily only lasted half a day. Breakfast and lunch both provided and I would go back just for this. The other thing I’ve learned, is that every set should have a vegan option, and often gluten free as well. They almost always contain mushroom in some form. See, the blog title is well thought-out and highly intelligent!

Everyone is glad to be released early so we can warm ourselves on car heaters, or sandwiched between commuters on the tube. Fun shoot!

 

Not Far From Portobello Road (I know)

Got very excited about this next job because there are some big names in the production. Drove down to Ealing Studios for this one and had my first experience of the Extras Bus. Double decker parked in front of the studios, made into a mobile ‘crowd holding’. We eat, we prepare ourselves mentally and emotionally, we eat, we chat, and some even sleep on this wheeled wonderland. They could’ve turned the heating on though.

From the brief, we all thought we were going to be inside for the shoot. This was not the case. We were outside, wearing paper thin costumes and, once-again, braving the April squalls. I did get to work close to a great actress for a couple of seconds, though I was mostly focused on how much harder my nipples could get before they could no longer be classified as human flesh. I also got to hold a couple of sandwiches as I walked and sat on a cold, metal bench, which was lovely.

Another scene in and the airport-hangar style studio had been transformed into a hospital. A young actress, one of the leads on the show, commented it was like ‘stepping through a portal’. She’s not wrong. One moment you’re staring at corrugated metal, discarded props and filming equipment, the next you are standing in the middle of a hospital corridor, with mock-ups of different areas (waiting room, bed spaces). Very interesting. While we were waiting to be called to action, I got to watch a room be transformed from a room with a bed in it, to a realistic bedroom with lots of little touches added to make it more authentic. The set-designers are often shouted at by the film crew to keep it down while the cameras were rolling, which must make their jobs all the more rewarding.

My role was apparently Doctor, but what this really means is, man dressed in scrubs walking down corridor. (This job seems to have a lot of corridor walking). I was brought into another scene with another lucky SA, only to be cut out again after two takes – the only reason I can possibly imagine this was done is that we were overshadowing the main cast, and they were concerned the audience’s attention would be too focused on us. Alas, we were downgraded to walking the corridors once more.

 

Oyster Cards Out – The Roundup

First week ended in a 4(ish) hour trip to get a PCR test in Hertfordshire, from Oxford, then a drive back up to mine in Birmingham. Luckily, I managed to drag the girlfriend with me and forced my entertainment on her throughout, which she obviously loved, and visited a couple of towns on the way to make it bearable.

Next week, so far, I only have Monday and Tuesday booked up, but I’ve got some more in for following weeks. The majority of work seems to come up last-minute, and I just need to get into a different mindset to put up with it – though this will only fuel the screen addiction, something I shouldn’t really be getting into with my dodgy eyes. Maybe I’ll hire a booker-inner and calendar-checker, and perhaps a foot-rubber while I’m at it.

But the main thing is, for every reason there is to dislike this work – the late-notice, the cold, the travel, there are twice the amount to love it for – the variety, the people, being a fungi, the food (sometimes), the excitement, the production insights, the delightful COVID swabs.

If I had to base my career break decision on my first week, I’d have to say I’ve made the right choice!

And I even managed to write two lines on my novel!

Mush love.