Another "happy" day on Sex & the City2 as a piece of human background

Just did another day on Sex & the City2 (the movie sequel)...once again, I was merely a "person on Fifth Avenue" sitting on a bench behind Samantha (Kim Cattrall), looking at my book as Carrie & Charlotte (SJP and Kristin Davis) strolled by, and finally, strolling in front of Cynthia Nixon in front of Bergdorf Goodman.

It's so funny...the good things about being an "extra" in a film like SATC:
1. being part of a pop culture "event" like this that people will talk about for years.
2. being paid to be close to these fabulous "star" ladies and observing them and their "star attitudes" and conversations up close. At least now I have a LOT of great first-hand stories for my personal tours of New York City from every experience like this.
3.being on a major film set amid all the noise and craziness and watching how the big money is thrown around (dozens of trucks and trailers, huge lights suspended over Fifth Ave., lots of hired NYPD and private security to keep the unwashed masses away, the incredible crowds of people (hundreds) watching from behind barricades, the paparazzi snapping away constantly, etc.)
4. Watching first-hand the excesses and how movies like this cost so much to make. Every time we go for a take, the makeup/hair and wardrobe fairies buzz all around the stars, fixing liplines, re-combing and spraying their hairdos, smoothing out their spanks & underwear and re-powdering the hell out of their not-yet shiny faces.

Footnote: No wonder people always look so damn good in the movies...especially after walking or running half a block in NYC humidity and high heels!! After watching this for awhile, it's quite hilarious. Most of the stars haven't had a chance to work up any kind of a sweat yet so you wonder what they are powdering. Now the sweaty extras: we could definitely be powdered!!

The bad side of being an "extra":
1. putting up with the little assholes called P.A.'s (production assistants)...please refer to my earlier blog item on this. These little shits all want to be the new Martin Scorsese or Steven Spielberg and most of them do NOT know how to talk to people who are "under" them on the food chain. Extras are the lowest link on the chain...a fact they remind you of constantly. Everybody is treated nicer than the extras: makeup twits, wardrobe fairies, p.a.s and assistant p.a.'s, fucking SECURITY guards hired for a few hours, caterers, you name it! P.A.'s are all little film school assholes who think they are big shits and they talk to you like you've never been on a TV or film site before. How do they think most of us got our union cards? You can't buy them...you have to earn them. I've seen these little A-holes talking trash and being rude to extra ladies and gentleman who are very nice people, experienced, and old enough to be their parents or GRANDparents. These same little jerks are very two-faced and will turn on you in a second when a star or upper level crew member catches them being rude.
2. Putting up with the annoying wardobe people who call you the night before and insist that you bring several changes of clothes so they can pick what they like! Give me a break...for a base pay of under $200, they want you to schlep a suitcase on the subway at 5 AM so they can reject everything and send you to one of the vast wardrobe trucks parked outside anyway. Her phone message: "Hi this is Susie from wardrobe. Could you please bring a change of clothes with several options? Remember, this is SEX AND THE CITY and so nothing can be wrinkled, unpressed, untucked, torn, etc. Every item must be beautiful and fashionable...please don't wear any whites (SJP is wearing white in the scene and we must not upstage our star. NO reds, no blacks, no obvious logos, no beiges, etc. etc. etc. They have SO many requirements it's ridiculous. So I just wore a shirt and brought one additional shirt. I don't play that game...the first few times I brought suitcases they didn't use anything I brought and sent me to wardrobe anyway. So now I just dress neat and "bland" and they have to DEAL with it.
3. Our "holding" area for this job was in the incredibly HOT and HUMID SUB-basement of Christ Church on Park Ave. and 60th St. We spent hours in this hot sub-basement and nobody bothered to turn on the air-conditioning while the stars are rushed out of air-conditioned trailers for brief filming bits here and there. It's part of the movie "caste" system. They constantly remind you on a film set that you are dirt...you are merely "background" and don't request ANYthing more. They only give you what the union says they must give you...nothing more. I'm still wondering about the distance from our "holding area" in that hot church to our work area: five or six blocks away in front of Bergdorf Goodman on 57th Street and FIFTH Ave.
OH, and the "prop" truck was even farther...over on Sixth Ave. & West 58th Street...at the end of the long days of filming (12=14 hours), they would make you walk from the set on Fifth Ave., BACK to the holding area on Park Avenue, only to be told you couldn't leave until you left the church and took your props BACK to the prop truck over on SIXTH AVE., and then walk BACK to the church on Park Avenue to wait in line and have your payment voucher signed so you could then be officially dismissed.
After this, most of us then walked BACK to Sixth Ave. or beyond. Another mile after standing for hours since 6am! For a little P.A.'s final ower trip over the extras. What was this all-important prop I was returning before I could be released? An old NY guidebook which had been ruined from water and pages stuck together and a 2.00 fanny pack from Chinatown!
Most of the extras like myself either lived on the West side (not Park Ave!) or caught their subways from nearby Columbus Circle. So after 12 hours either in a hot church basement or standing on our feet on concrete on Fifth Ave., the final humiliation: walk back to Sixth Ave to return props before you will be "dismissed" officially. I'm young and healthy and it pissed me off but didn't hurt me...some of the extras on their other side of 60 or 70 and needed help. All the time, the 20-something P.A.s just smirked as they scrawled their signatures on our paperwork. "thanks for a great day!" they said in their fake voices.
My lips said "thank you", my eyes said "Fuck you."