So, I had a commercial shoot yesterday evening for a training video. I'm playing Mr. Obsessed. He's obsessed with the latest technology, and has to have it all. In his own words:
Gotta love my gadgets! I don't know where I'd be without them. I need the lastest technology to help me stay connected. I have it all. I just can't get enough.
I arrive on location, and there's no one there. I call the contact, and get no answer. So, I call the agency. My agent assures me I'm where I need to be, and the crew is across the street filming in a different location. So, I go over there, and some guy (Mr. Uninformed) is stumbling through his line: "Paying off a debt adds 50 points to your credit score!" (yes, we know this isn't true) It takes him over a half-dozen takes to nail the line, and I'm thinking, "Wow... this guy's having a rough day."
A few minutes later, we're moving across the street to the location I was told to meet them at. Another actress arrives, playing "Ms. Competitive." She's very charming, and knocks out all of her takes in about 30 minutes after everything is set up. Very nice.
Now, an hour has gone by, and I haven't read a single line yet. I go over and over my lines, making sure I've got them down. Don't want to be Mr. Uninformed. The director announces that we're going to shoot my scene outside. It's about 42 degrees outside, and I'm in a zip-up sweater. Fantastic. But, I'm a trooper, and it's not really all that bad in the sun, so we head out. The crew sets up the shot: I come around a corner and nearly collide with the camera guy. I say my bit, and then pretend to answer my phone and walk off. Simple enough. The first problem I notice is that the camera guy is set up right between me and the sun. I can't really look into the camera without squinting, and the light is making my eyes water like Niagara Falls in the rainy season. Director says action.
Take One: "Oh, Sorry. I love my Gadgets. I love... shit."
Take Two: "Oh, Sorry. Gadgets are... fuck."
Take Three: "Oh, Sorry. Gotta love my gadgets. I don't know where I'd be without my gadge-- dammit."
Take Four: "Oh, Sorry. ... Son of a bitch!"
After what seems like an eternity of this, the director sighs, looks at his crew and says, "Ok. Let's shoot the other lines now."
We set up and I shoot the rest of my scene in about 3 total takes. It's great, and it's in the can with no problems. Then, we go back to the gadgets scene. This time, I hit my mark, say my line, and it's spotless. At the end of the day, the director seems pleased, but I never felt worse in my life than I did for those first 8 takes.
I'm just not cut out for this.
UPDATE: The production company has sent me the raw tape of my many, many takes. You can watch them here.
END TRANSMISSION...
