(LIFE OF A MOVIE EXTRA...... er, I mean.... BACKGROUND ARTIST)

As I was leaving the house, I glanced down at the outdoor thermometer. It said five below. The car started. As I neared my destination in the early morning darkness, I took a dirt road up the hill and followed a line of red taillights to the well-lit camp tents. As I walked through the frozen tundra to the first tent I was greeted with warm smiles and friendly conversations as I checked in.

After six previous workdays, changing from civilian clothes to period western clothing was old hat. I started with long johns and quickly added a shirt, pants with many buttons, suspenders with boots, jackets, gloves, hats, and suspenders. All the while, chatting with fellow comrades. Then, you'll have to wait in line for the hair and makeup artists to dirty you. After I'm done, I put my civilian jacket on and head back out into the freezing air. I try not to slip as I make my way toward the dining tent, where I will have a quick breakfast, along with some hot coffee. The numbing chill has kept most people inside.

A girl in a heavy jacket with a headset enters the tent, yells "the van is here!" We reluctantly step out of the tent, slip into the vans, and head towards the west town that is just starting to appear in the dawning sunlight. Crawl from the van. If it gets above freezing, we will end up with a muddy mess. We go to get our guns and holsters when someone yells, "I see props." As you walk toward the holding facility, crew members in bundled uniforms continue to greet you. Of course, no coffee has been brewed. You're too late, anyway. You're needed for your first shot of today. Now it's time for some pretend play. It's comforting to think that Christian Bale and Russell Crowe are also cold.

You look around and say. Hey, I'm standing in the middle a Hollywood film, ready to portray a gunman, in an Old West Town. Only one person that I know would be stupid enough to accept these conditions and such a low pay... I MUST BE A MOVIE TRAINER (or background artist, as we prefer to call ourselves in the industry). I forgot about my close-up. Place me in the warm sun!

So begins another day on the movie set as an extra. Weather conditions on the "3:10 to Yuma" set are not always as extreme as they were that day in New Mexico. But when they are, it adds a lot of drama.

Why would anyone want to be an extra in these circumstances? It's not for the money, though it can be a lucrative job for some. Does it give you the opportunity to have your face appear on screen for just a moment? The carrot-on-astick approach, the chance to get a speaking role, which will immediately boost your pay, or a cool pair of sunglasses are all attractive. Rumor whisperers say, "You'll be surprised to learn that so-and-so famous actor began his career as an additional".

What about a chance to break from your everyday routine by playing a different character?

You may also enjoy the social benefits of the bond that forms between fellow extras from previous film productions, the opportunity to see moviemaking in action and the boost your ego gets when you get a nod or a salutation from an important movie star soap2day . There's also the benefit of a decent paycheck and free food.

All these reasons and, most importantly, the stories are what I'm interested in.

Hollywood has re-entered New Mexico in recent years. The state's moviemaking heritage is as old as the film industry itself. In '94, when I moved to New Mexico for the first time, several TV and movie productions were in progress. My lady friend told me about the casting call. I stood in the lobby of the hotel until someone from casting took my Polaroid, and asked if I would be available in two weeks. After a surprise phone call, I tried on my new western outfit for the TV miniseries "Buffalo Girls". Since then, I've remained mostly available.

The movie industry experienced a rapid decline in the late 1990s. However, the new tax incentives (along with our cheaper labor force), have led to a revival of the filmmaking industry within the last five years.
The life of an extra is still the same, even though casting calls and Polaroid photos are no longer used. Instead, we have digital photos, emailed resumes and Internet announcements. The feeling you get after a 12-hour day, working from dawn until sunset, is the same. You're tired and cold, waiting in the dark to return your clothing so you can go home.

My advice is to keep your current job if you want to do extra work in the background as a profession. Working as an extra requires a flexible schedule. It is important to be able to respond to a sudden call to action, which is nearly impossible to do if you have a regular job.

Many production workers will happily confirm that Hollywood loves working with New Mexicans. Most of the extras that I have worked with were courteous, friendly, cooperative, and tolerant. They are very different from their "big city" counterparts in LA, we're told. Even in this group of New Mexico Extras, there are those annoying standouts. The Braggart whose alleged credentials can be easily challenged. The Movie Star Wannabee Schmoozer, who is desperate to get the big break, and will cling or cajole anyone they believe will help them move up the stardom scale. And of course, each large group has a chronic complainer. These individuals are quickly weeded-out.

I admire the diverse, independent and iconoclastic types of individuals who gravitate towards this flexible creative line of employment: the creative and independent individuals (artisans and rock band roadies), the worldly icons (hippies, travellers, philosophers), the hard-working and generous blue-collar individuals who love to act out various roles in movies; future film makers, the unemployed, the curious, those seeking a loving and caring family, musicians between gigs, ex-veteran retirees, those who come from unhappy financial

The job is more fun if you know the Hollywood lingo. Phrases like "back to one", 'that was awesome- let's try one more','martini shot', 'checking the gate'' 'that's it'''silence on set'' 'checking sound' and 'Action!' are all part of this. This movie jargon is fun for a background artist who has been in the business a while.

What happens on a typical set day? The days are long. On some productions, you may spend a large part of the day working on set. However, you will often wait in a tent or holding room for hours, my personal record is nine hours, before being called to a scene. You can make the best of these moments by engaging in social conversation, reading quietly, playing chess or cards, eating snacks or even breakdancing or lap dancing. You can also choose to pout, whine and generally be bored. This person can return to the thrilling job of a bank clerk.

As an extra, you're kept in the dark about the plot and your contribution to the film. As an extra, you are not told much about the character or scene you will be playing. You often create your own character stories. You hear "Action!" You hear "Action!" yelled, so you start to pantomime a dialogue you imagine with others while you are sitting at a desk or walking down the street. The director shouts "Great...that's awesome everyone" and the scene ends. It means that your scene-specific cognitive instincts were perfect, or you weren't on camera at all so it didn’t matter what you did. This theory was tested on "Into The West". I performed Monty Python-style backward funny walking during my background crosses, and it worked perfectly.

It is a given that if you are on camera and not doing what you know the director wants to do, he or she will slap you, much to your embarrassment.

When a director or assistant director (AAD) explains to us extras the importance of the scene that we are about to shoot and the context in which it fits into the script, this is greatly appreciated. It helps us to get excited about our role.

We are the background color. This is a crucial role for the final outcome of the scene. We bring "the set" alive, creating the social atmosphere from which actors can work, rather than forcing them to perform in a vacuum.

It can be challenging to work as an extra for the first time. A woman on the "Wild, Wild West' set fainted from the heat of August and the suffocating effect of her corset. She tried again the following day but was nearly trampled on by horses in the chaos scene. After that, I never saw her again.

It's a skill to get on camera without appearing too obvious or pushy. If you are caught mugging a camera, as happened to our friend, then you will be fired immediately. This opens up an opportunity for another person. Casting couches, trailers, tents, and other old-fashioned methods can still be effective, at least for a short time. I've also noticed that extras have better chances of getting on screen if they are working on a comedy. The best way to get the "right look" that a filmmaker wants is usually out of your hands. You're suddenly in front of Pierce Brosnan, or Liam Neeson. The director shouts, "And...action!"

You might also be asked to do some makeup and special effects. You may be the only one who recognizes your face when you see it on screen if you have been grotesquely and painstakingly transformed by makeup artists into a zombie.

Dennis Hopper passed me in the corridor after I walked by his head on a desk.

When you are in front of the "blue screen", you may not be aware that you're in a dramatic scene. However, your response to the robotic monster that is reaching towards you could indicate your acting abilities, since it's a robot, and not an unkempt crew member.

The emphasis on the "Beerfest' movie set was not real beer. The first attempt was to use a vacuum system that failed miserably, sucking the near-beer from our mugs. This often led to hilarious results. The next step was to digitally transfer the beer into empty mugs. The Irish beer drinking team was mildly offended by these methods, as we could easily have drank real beers faster than the Germans.

It's also best to avoid looking too closely at set design. During those dramatic funeral scenes the mood could be ruined if the audience realized who was really on the movie tombstones, such as Yo Mama, Three Stooges, and Jethro Tull.

Sometimes the story behind a movie is even more entertaining than that movie. Disney chose Madrid to represent an all-American town complete with white-picket fencing, flowers, lace curtain, warm diner and Chili Festival. In reality, the town of Madrid is not a white-picket fence. Instead, it's a black picket tooth, as evidenced by locals who abuse crack. Since its beginnings as a hippie-friendly town, the decor of the town is more funky and raw than homey. The diner was constructed specifically for the film and locals would agree that "we don't need any stinkin' Chile Festival!"

The symmetry with Disney is fascinating. Walt Disney, while flying over Madrid in the late 1920s, was captivated by its twinkling Christmas lights. This inspired him to create Disney World Parade of Lights years later. Disney Corporation had come back to Madrid to pay their respects in their corporately warped way.