Day 1 - PROPS - Champagne all around

I don't drink alcohol. I've never opened a bottle of champagne.

In this scene, my character, who loves to party, is celebrating by opening a bottle of champagne and pouring it for everyone.

But first--makeup, from a lovely make up woman who is nice and not only knows how to cover my birthmarks (plural) but give me a nice healthy tan the likes of which I have never had in real life. She makes my skin look perfect and bronzed. I think about hiring her so I can look this good every day.

Then I remember that my wife is also very good at applying makeup to me. I don't mean that I wear makeup every day (though, come to think of it, why not?) but when she takes my headshots, my wife first applies makeup that makes my skin look so good I don't have to do any digital retouching. See-my headshots are totally honest--if you put makeup on me (and anyone having any kind of photo taken, be it still or motion, should wear makeup), then I look as good as I look in my head shots.

More waiting. I'm not sure how I could possibly forget that 90% of an actor's life on the set is waiting. Waiting. And more waiting. Chatting. Eating. Napping. I can't stress this enough. Then, for maybe five minutes a day, you have to turn on your energy so that it flows, naturally, right from you into the lens and onto either film or digital. Yes, your personal energy can flow onto the recording medium. I'm not sure if science can measure this yet, but when you're watching a performance you can certainly feel it if the energy is there or not.

Lunch. The chef is from Holland. She has long very red hair. Excellent vegetarian cuisine. No junk food on crafts services table. The crew complains. Trips to Costco and Trader Joe's ensue. We now have cheese sticks (not junk food!), organic food bars (not junk!), and finally some trail mix with M&M's, a few candy bars, and even some potato chips. That's more like it. One of the joys of being on the set is having an excuse to eat often and badly--but it's good that the meals themselves are both healthy and good.

It's off to the set. Oh, wait, more waiting. And, while I'm at it, I think I'll take a nap. I'll write later about my patented acting method called "Napping your way to stardom, not to be confused with sleeping your way to the top."

So first I had to learn how to open a bottle of champagne. Luckily, the woman in charge of props told me how--twist this little metal thing six times, then wiggle the "cage." The cork will start to come out by itself. Keep your thumb on it so it doesn't fly. Then twist the bottle, not the cork, and it'll pop out nicely in your hand.

All of which sounds great, except I'd never done it before and now was doing it front of a room of people, four actors and 25 technicians and a camera to capture it all forever.

The champagne is 1) cheap, and 2) warm, which made it volatile. I ask how many they have, and they say they have plenty. This is a relief, as I can see myself having to do this 112 times.

And then there's the whole matter of props. Props are tricky in movies because you have to use them consistently over and over, because each scene is shot multiple times from different angles, and what you do has to match. So the glasses have to be in the same places, you have to be holding the bottle the same way at the same angle. And in this case, the DP (director of photography, aka the cinematographer) was creating what's called a "dirty frame" where my hand and the bottle would be fuzzily in the foreground and had to be in just the right place otherwise it would be in front of another actor's face.

So I noted where the bottle was (just above my belt buckle), and figured out where my feet had to go (they used tape on the carpet to mark the spots), and got ready.

My fear was that I'd put out another actor's eye. I suggested they cover their eyes and duck.

My next fear was that I'd be unable to do this like a grown-up and they'd have to shoot this 47 times until they finally removed me from the room and had a stunt double (which I don't have) do it for me.

The first time the cork was so eager to come out I didn't know if I could hold it back--it was embarrassing, like a teenage boy trying to have sex.

But, as often happens, there were other problems with the shot, so out came a new bottle of cheap champagne and clean glasses, and I started over.

Now that I'd done it once I was a seasoned professional and this time it was much easier and happened much more smoothly. The whole scene was shot and at no time did I ever block another actor's face with the bottle. Success.

Except, that in movie making so many things can go wrong, and in this case there was another technical problem, so I had to do it again.

This time the cork didn't want to come out. So I was twisting the bottle and wriggling the cork and it went on and on until it finally came out with a huge pop that made everybody laugh--which is fine, it's natural, that's what people would do. We shot the scene. It goes well until the end, when one of the actors actually tastes the cheap champagne and automatically makes a terrible face, as if they're champagne had been secretly replaced with horse urine.

(I tasted the champagne and it just tasted like ginger ale that had gone bad somewhere along the way--with a light formaldehyde finish).

We'd now run out of the really cheap champagne and it was replaced with something better that cost a full $1 more. This one opened more easily, with a very pleasant pop.

Then one more time. This time the bottle is perfect, my placement is perfect, the actors are perfect, and even the technical stuff is all right. So we're done in just three takes, which is good.

I am vastly relieved that I haven't caused major delays and expenses. I celebrate by tasting the more expensive champagne, which tastes to me like white grape juice that someone had let sit, unrefrigerated, for a few weeks, until it, too, started to go bad. This explains why I don't drink.

As far as actual acting goes (oh, that), I find I'm automatically being smaller and quieter to fit in with the tone of everyone else. It feels natural. I am not thinking. I an unaware of the camera other than fitting in frame. I'm doing what feels natural, which is just right.

Shooting ends for the day. That was a good start.