Back from set!

I've gone and done exactly what I meant not to do. It's take me over two weeks to post again. I entirely meant to post the day after the shoot, but I went to work, then I had a show, then I had to sleep, then and then and then ... you get the rest.

For the interested parties, then, let me fill you in how my first commerical shoot in about a decade went. (Photo courtesy jasonlam via Flickr's creative commons.)

To begin with, we did not, as I originally suspected, shoot outdoors. We shot against a green screen, which I was thought would look cheesy, since my character was in the woods. However, when I saw how they were going to use the footage and that the spot would look intentionally stylized, I understood it. As it was cold outside, I was fine with staying indoors. Though, I must admit, I was somewhat concerned it may actually be less comfortable under the hot lights (and they get hot, folks) than in the February briskness.

I did as the stylist had instructed me: packed anything in my closet that looks like it could go on the "campground." As I have not been camping in years, I owned a lot fewer of those options than I had thought. I brought a rolling carry on bag worth of clothes and a couple pair of beat up shoes. When I arrived at the studio, a production assistant was outside and asked if I was Molly or Gretchen. I told her I was Molly and then followed her instructions to the green room (aka, the waiting area, not to be confused with the green screen). Immediately, I reckoned they must've hired two "mothers" or maybe two "mother-daughter" sets, they'd shoot both and then blend the two. I later found out that Gretchen was the little girl who'd play my daughter. Of course! Why would a client spend all that money on two sets? Haven't I made enough products to know that a client is going to go for the cheapest way to get a message out?

The stylist sifted through my clothes and showed me the options she had purchased and we agreed to let the director decide, after she pulled her favorites. Into the makeup chair I went, in the meantime. That was great! On the only other shoots I've been on, in which I've been in front of the camera, I've had to use my own street make up and apply it myself. And I'm not cosmetically inclined so I have no idea how it looks, in the end. It felt great having someone else paint my face. Since we were shooting in high-def, she used high-def ready make up. I've always been amazed the few times I've gotten to see makeup artists do their stuff. The face really is their canvas.

It was when I was in the makeup chair that I got to meet my "daughter." And really, I should remove the quotes. I heard Gretchen and her mother enter the green room, just off from the makeup room, and then the little girl peeked her head into the make up room to see what was going on. What I saw was the spitting image of how I've imagined my daughter would look at age 5 or 6. She was a petite little thing with the same squarish shaped face as me; bright, gentle, round blue eyes; fair skin like mine, but more akin to Honey's coloring; and strawberry red hair - the same color I had from birth to about three - blunt cut just below her chin. I had, just two weeks earlier, gotten my near waist-length hair cut to just above shoulder-length. We looked like the same character at different periods in her life. It was uncanny. When I stepped out of the makeup room, her mother did a double-take. Frankly, I looked more like her mother than her own mother did. One crew member actually thought I was her mom before I had to direct him to the real "Gretchen's mom." For the rest of the time we were both on set, I could hear people murmuring, "Can you believe the resemblance?" and "They're not even related!" (The picture is of me at 5 - when my mom used to cut my bangs. I'm still kind of blown away by how much we look alike.) So, my hats off to casting. Well done, folks. Well. Done. [insert slow clap here]

I had already decided that I was going to attach myself to the kid, before knowing who was cast. My thoughts were 1) I'll be more comfortable if I have a partner; 2) there's a good possibility that she's been on sets more recently than I have, so I could follow her lead; 3) if she's a sweet kid, she'll probably be less intimidating to me than the crew, since I'm an out of practice novice and 4) if I want this relationship to look even remotely genuine, we've gotta do some quick "bonding." Luckily, Gretchen was exactly the kind of kid you want on set: sweet, well-behaved, articulate, bright, very comfortable around adults and strangers and still full of a sense of fun. Also luckily, her mother was warm and approachable. The stagemother stereotype is nasty and, I hope in most cases, unfair, but I'll admit I was concerned about it. She was not the stereotype. This is just what her kids do - like soccer or ballet. Gretchen and I chatted and got along really well. I was so glad she was comfortable in the realm of adults. Frankly, it reminded me of me when I was a gradeschooler. I was always more comfortable with adults than kids when I was a kid. It was well into my teen years before that shifted any, and I was in college before I preferred my peers' company over that my parents' peers. Yeah. I'm a dork.

We only had a few lines each, and only one scene together. It had been a while since I'd been on a set, and I couldn't remember how many takes people normally capture. I must have done a minimum of 20 takes for each line, trying to hit various moods that the director wanted. At some point, I know I zoned out during at least one or two reads. Autopilot took over and I tried to wrest back control, but I can't say for sure that I did. All in all, though, I felt like I kept my energy up, if not my mental stamina. I hope they got what they needed.

I probably shot a solid hour, maybe a few minutes more, of footage. Though with all the lighting adjustments, my total time in front of the green screen was probably closer to 2.5 hours. That, I could deal with. What surprised me was the photoshoot. Oh, yeah. This was news to me! Apparently, they're incorporating a print campaign. It has taken me a long time to feel comfortable in front of a motion picture camera - camera intimidation always manifested itself as facial tenion, and 90% of that was easily missing this time - but a still camera ... ? Still? As in posed work? I don't mind having my picture taken candidly or a striking a quick pose with friends, but deliberately posed studio stuff? Blech! Shake it off, Molly. They're paying you. Do your best.

I had a quick wardrobe change and tried to take direction from the photographers, adjusting miniscule head-tilts and hip-shifts. "Look proud, but concerned," was the direction I remember best. Huh? I tried to contort my face for their purposes. The shot they liked best of me, cracked me up. "That's not my 'proud' face. That's the look I get when I'm in an awkward conversation at a party and don't know how to get out of it," I told them. Oh, well. It's their baby.

All in all, it was a great day. I was in by 8:30 and wrapped by 2:30. And the pay for those 6 hours, even if it was what I would normally expect based on what little I know of typical pay in this area, would've been bigger than what I'm paid in a day at my current job. However, the compensation for this project was about 2 - 4 times what I've seen advertised for similar jobs, so this means in those 6 hours, I made more than I do in a week at my desk job - working full time. Sure, I'll have to pay an ugly chunk to self-employment tax, but I'm sincerely pleased!

The spot should start airing later this month or early next around the northeast quadrant of the United States. By that I mean if you were to cut a map of the continental U.S. in four mostly equal parts, then those in the upper right hand corner will probably see this spot. Apparently, they're going to focus the heaviest airing in the upper midwest.

Now, I have another notch in my belt, another piece to add to my resume. And I have another guidepost along this path of decision-making. I'm still not sure if acting is something I want to fully invest in, but it's becoming clear to me that maybe I should revisit it more often than I have in the last 10 years and explore it again. I've always known I can't go too long without acting. I perform regularly and am difficult to live with if I'm not on the stage often enough. But I don't want to take something I love and let it become a "job." I know Robert Frost says we should aim to marry our vocation with our avocation, but I don't ever want activities I love to feel like a chore. For me, I think there could be a fine line.

But you know what? I really don't have to make that decision right now. I'm not going to project this right now. I'm going to take it all one day at a time, because all I have is today, right? And today, I'm going to rehearse, write and walk the dog: three things I love.

3BT: avocation, aspiration, admiration

It was cold and alternately weeping rain today and into tonight. So, it feels like a good time to sit back and reflect a la Clare, on three beautiful things that popped out at me, today.

1. After an aggravating morning, I decided to call one of my best girlfriends, who lives a good 4 or 5 hours away, on my ride into work. She'd just loaded her kids in the car and was driving the 4 year old to preschool. I vented and ranted and she chimed in and offered her ear. We had a good visit, and we said our goodbyes as I pulled into my office driveway. Moments later she called me back. Her daughter had apparently asked who she was on the phone with, "Aunt Molly," she'd replied. "I want to go to Aunt Molly's house after school!" That turned my morning around

2.
I came across this today. A cousin of mine died almost 13 years ago from MD. This young man (who's already survived my cousin by 4 years) looks physically very similar to my cousin, though he has more use of his upper body, and more muscle mass, than my cousin did. Though I don't know if my cousin ever felt suicidal, there's no doubt in my mind that the mental anguish he carried must've been intense. However, like this young man, my cousin pursued all that his financial and physical resources allowed during his short time here. Seeing this interview reminded me of S and that being blessed is really a state of mind.

3. At a party tonight, a colleague told me that she loved some sweeping dance move that I and another performer improvised in a show a few weeks ago. Apparently, she's a ballet nerd and thought that we looked graceful and that I looked like I knew what I was doing and it just took her breath away. We didn't, of course. But I love that for once gravity was not my nemesis and I was evidently, if even accidentally, swanlike!

Friday Film Flim Flam

Technically, it's still Thursday night. But I'm gonna have a crazy-ass hectic weekend, so I thought I'd just blither blather tonight.
Oh! First off, I'm very proud of myself because I finally got myself a blog reader, so I don't have to open each of your lovely blogs to see if you've posted anything. Now, my lovely RSS feed - or whatever the hell kinda web voyeur it is - will tell me when you've updated your page, saving me valuable time and hair-pulling. I would complain about some folks' foot-dragging, but frankly, I'm so prone to being remiss that I have no room to criticize. So, yea me! I joined the year 2005! ... it still might take me several days to comment on your posts, though. I put the "pro" in procrastination.

I love Tina Fey. I really love her. Honey and I finally saw Baby Mama tonight. (He really loves her, too.) She's fucking smart and her humor both hits me like a laser guided bullet, even when I don't know it and it's everything I wish mine was. She blends awkwardness and arcane references like perfect buttercream icing. And she's sexy and her sexiness is directly related to her intelligence.

In the past, Honey and I have agreed that had he and I never really hit it off, and more importantly, never married, he - the techy introvert - would be that guy who spends all his free-time online, gaming, cracking code and almost never emerging for anything other than work. Probably wouldn't play sports, like he does now, or do many other "social" things. (Yes, he is online a lot.) He has long told me that I would basically be Liz Lemon from 30 Rock: a comedy writer prone to public self-embarassment who dates a string of losers. We would both live off of frozen dinners. Though he'd probably eat Kashi because he could afford it, and is not cheap like me. I'd totally be eating the Healthy Choice kids meals - they have brownies! And he's right. (I'm already an expert at public self-embarassment.)



"I'm not against fun. I went up on my roof yesterday!" ... words that will probably come from my own mouth in a few months' time. And yes, were I single, and a young hottie wanted me, I'd feel exactly this weird.

Sorry for the tangent. I am gonna talk about Baby Mama. The reason for that preceding paragraph (and clip) was because it's not just Liz Lemon. Watching the movie tonight, I was struck by how much the two leads were basically dueling parts of my own personality: the slobby free-spirit who wants more in life, but has no clue how to get it, and the sophisticated, career-concerned woman who is ultimately a dork. It was particularly evident in the club scene. Tina Fey voguing, thinking she looks cool while Amy Poehler steals shots and other drinks when Fey isn't looking.

I really liked that Greg Kinnear was the romantic interest. After years of ambivalence, I've given in and like him. (Brief follow up to that post: I did see Auto Focus, finally. It was creepy.) It was a pleasant surprise to see Steve Martin. It was nice to see that he could do caricature and still make me laugh. Sometimes he can overwhelm me.

The film started off kind of slow, but really picked up about 15 minutes in - I guess around the top of the second act. Then it was classic Fey. Until the last act. That's my biggest beef so far. Particularly the ending. I could forgive the comedy film conventions that would never happen in real life: the contrived relationship between the women, the birthing coach with a speech impediment, the good friendship with the doorman. But the big confession, and how the parties dealt with it felt like rigid film formula - even with the snappy dialog. The courtroom scene injected calculated high fructose corn syruppy sap (snappy sap, but sap just the same) that I could've gotten from any old "insert-genre-here" movie. It was rote and kind of heartbreaking for that reason alone. The movie ends with each woman getting what she wants. (I'm trying not to let any spoilers slip.) What I was hoping for was that resolution might have come with one or both women finding that they have what they want, or that they create a mutually agreeable situation, not that accident hands them happy fates. I think that's what I loved about Juno, another fertility movie - nobody really got what they wanted from the beginning, but they learned to love what came about in the end as best they could. I'm not sure how I would've written this ending, though.

My comparison to Juno is kind of unfair. Baby Mama is a buddy movie or an odd couple movie, more aptly; that's where the humor stems from - that, and infertility, which is a riot (take a good look at John Hodgman's mug). Juno is ... another genre that my brain is too tired to conjure up right now. Nonetheless, each week on 30 Rock, Fey doesn't let her character win in her personal (and often in her professional) life and we love her all the more for that. I would have preferred that she save the nice bow to wrap another movie up with. I don't think this one was it.

The Second Coming of My Screen Goddess

Honey and I just spent this lovely, lazy Sunday afternoon and evening watching movies. It was great. Finally got to see The Queen. Helen Mirren is wonderful and as if I wasn't already happy that such a talented (and non-20something cutie) actress got the Oscar this year, having seen her performance, I think it was a hands-down win.

In the meantime, I know you're wondering what's up with the lush ginger mane to the left there. Well, I figured I should for once put up a picture of me. But Molly, we can't see your mug. That's right, folks. I still like a modicum of mystery in this tell-all digital world. But I included this picture because I think my hair looks nice and red, here. My hair varies throughout the year, sometimes browner, sometimes blonder, but always red somehow. (I do not color it.) And on the morning this picture was taken, it was feeling particularly like a honeyed orange-almond creme brulee.

But more importantly, I thought I'd use this homage to vanity as a segue into a discovery I made tonight. Apparently, Cate Blanchett is reprising her role as Queen Elizabeth in the upcoming Elizabeth: The Golden Age. I cannot begin to tell you how sauced I am about this! Cate Blanchett, in my estimation, is a goddess among mortal actors. And her performance as the Virgin Queen in 1998's Elizabeth was the moment I fell hopelessly and blissfully in love with her. I firmly believe that when Gwyneth Paltrow won the Oscar over her, when my goddess was nominated for her Elizabeth, what transpired was nothing short of rapacious nepotism and flagrant Hollywood thievery. If Gwynny hadn't been up against the powerhouse that is Blanchett that year, maybe the cornsilk waif should've gotten it. But she wasn't in an easy field; she was up against Cate and Cate blew Gwynny out of the water like so much dynamited trout! I really won't go into a whole lot of detail about why Elizabeth is on my top 5 list (usually at the top), but here are some reasons I'm looking forward to this sequel:

* Wicked beautiful cinematography
* More Cate in a position of authority. God, she nails that stuff!
* The return not only of Cate and Geoffery Rush, but also the original director, Shekhar Kapur. (We'll overlook The Four Feathers, Shekhar.)
* The addition of Clive Owen and Samantha Morton (woo-friggin-hoo!) They so rock, there's no way this is going to be anything but SO-LID!

To satisfy any other Cate-as-Elizabeth lust which you hopefully share, here are some photos. I'm off to bed, to dream of dead-on performances, magnificent cinematography and women who rule!

The Repulsive Allure of Greg Kinnear

True story: Not twenty minutes ago, Honey and I just finished watching The Matador. Just now, I was just surfing the web looking for images of Greg Kinnear and my husband, peeking over my shoulder says, "Who the hell is that guy?"

Here's the deal. I don't know what to make of Greg Kinnear. I never seek out movies he's in, but I'm always somehow pleasantly surprised to find that he's in a movie I've happened to rent. (I'm not sure that I've ever seen him on the big silver.) When I see his name flash up on the credits, my first impulse is, "oh shit, this is gonna suck." But invariably he's up and it's okay. He surpasses my expectations.

Greg Kinnear could pretty much never be a leading man, but he's the best middle-class white "everyman" Hollywood has. He's better at it than Tom Hanks - there, I said it - but as far as I'm concerned, could never carry a movie by himself. Granted, it was tried with Auto Focus, and from what I know it didn't really fly. And I suspect it wasn't because people weren't terribly interested in the porn habits of the actor from Hogan's Heroes - though, yeah, you can't deny that kind of anipathy - so much as it was because the lead in the film was our darling, Greg. He's just too damned good as the dry toast nice guy, the world's best second fiddle, a man born to be a foil. Where some actors are chameleons, like my beloved Cate, Greg Kinnear is more like water: he takes the shape of whatever container he's put in, but he's still water, whether a raging ocean or a morning dew drop. Kind of like Bill Pullman. ... y'know: that guy.

I think that's why I'm so torn about him. Part of me wants to hate him for his non-leading-manishness, for his "middle class white guy" in every film tendency. But the other part of me is really quite impressed by how well he commits to his everyman characters. I have yet to see Tom Hanks, America's favorite Everyman, commit the way Greg Kinnear has.

I have to give him props for making Auto Focus, though. I have to give props to any actor who challenges the pigeonhole the industry has given him or her. (With the exception of Julia Roberts. She should have never attempted Mary Reilly. Sorry, doll. Stay away from accent pieces.) I can't remember if I want to see that movie, though: I seem to remember a Fresh Air interview with Kinnear about that movie that creeped me out. It almost doesn't matter. If I rent it, I know I'll be secretly chastising myself for renting a Greg Kinnear movie, and once I watch it, I'll probably be pleasantly surprised by his performance. Oh, the dilemma!

Gwyneth and Geysers

Nothing to say today, really. Just found this searing editorial about Gwyneth Paltrow that made me laugh like a monkey. I thought Virginia Gal would LOVE it. Particularly the bit about how Gwynnie rolls her eyes at American mores and how she thinks if Americans travelled abroad more we wouldn't be so uptight. Yeah, because the average American can really afford to travel to Europe all the time when s/he has only two weeks vacation a year total and is worried as hell about paying for their health insurance.

Also, how I spent my Easter: making coke geysers. We tried it with a 2 liter bottle of Coke, Seven Up and Diet Coke. The Diet Coke geyer was the highest.

Insipid Graphic of the Day Award goes to ...

CNN.com!

They always have such crappy graphics that are either so cluttered and ambiguous that by themselves you'd wonder what they're trying to communicate. Or with the story, just seem to do a really poor job of communicating the point. They look like a 7th grader built a collage that looked "cool." No extra points if you can guess what the basic issue of the article was that this graphic was associated with. I'm not even including a link to give you a hint.

In the meantime ...

I began my new job today. Woohoo! I was scared, but am more excited. Still kinda' scared, but getting more excited - especially since my new coworkers seem very nice and seem to have good senses of humor. I think most of my apprehension comes from just trying to get back into a routine where my time is not my own for 10 hours a day. It's been a while since that was true for me. But I'm psyched about this opportunity. And this overall project is really great!

Finally saw Brokeback Mountain this weekend during a girls' night out. I hope to write a review of it sometime this week; it'll take me a while to get back into the full-time groove. But long story short: my suppositions about Jake Gyllenhall's performance/miscasting were correct. Heath Ledger's cowboy was accurate for most cowboys I've known in my life. Michelle Williams' performance was better than I expected - way more honest than Anne Hathaway. I just couldn't buy that she was a small town girl; she seemed very much like a coastal bred woman portraying a stereotype. Like she went right for the charicature. I've known actual rodeo sweethearts, they're not that fussied up. And though overall interesting, not sure if the story was quite compelling enough for all the buzz it's been getting. If I have time this week, I'll elaborate. You know how long-winded I can get.