DiCaprio and Me
August 24, 2007
By Scott Matthew Harris
A few months ago, I get a call from Grant Wilfley Casting. They ask if I'd like to do a few days of extra work on a film called Revolutionary Road.
To me, it sounds like an uninteresting war film. But I don't care - whatever, I need the cash. Especially once they mention that Leonardo DiCaprio is going to be in it. DiCaprio's a big star, so it'll be a major production, which means - you guessed it, a nice big craft services table.
Yeah, baby. Bring on the free food!
That night, I look up the film on IMDb. It's something of a Titanic reunion, with both DiCaprio and Kate Winslet starring, as well as Kathy Bates. And Sam Mendes, famed director (and Winslet's husband, natch) is directing. Wow, pretty big deal! I wonder if I'll get a glimpse of either of the stars.
Turns out the movie's set in the 1950s, so the following week I get a wardrobe fitting and a period haircut - hey, free haircut! The perks just don't stop! - and a week or so later, I'm on set.
Well, not quite. I'm actually in the basement of at a club in downtown Manhattan, which is more like a cave. This is the extras holding room. It's dark, dank, and the "craft services" consist of stale bagels and warm orange juice.
So I'm sitting there, filling out my paperwork, remembering that the last time I'd done this was as a stand-in on Funny Games. Thank God I'm not just standing in this time - on this one, I'll actually be in the film! Just then, a PA walks up and asks me, "Hey, how tall are you?"
Uh-oh. Why does he want to know? I think quickly. I'm actually 5'8" and 1/2 inches, so should I say 5'9", which is the height listed on my resume? Or should I fake him out, and go lower? Which would be more advantageous? "Five feet eight," I finally blurt out. "Great!" he says. "Come with me, you're going to be a stand-in."
Sigh.
We stop along the way to get my color cover. (This time around, I know what that is, and don't I feel such the know-it-all!) I find out that I won't be standing in for DiCaprio - wouldn't THAT have impressed the girls! - but instead for Max Casella, the actor probably best known for playing Vinnie, the best friend on Doogie Howser, M.D. On learning this, I can't stop saying "Yo, Doog!" to anyone who cares to listen, which mostly winds up being myself.
We get to the set, and it's pretty blah-looking. But it's supposed to - the scenes we're shooting all take place in a 1950's office, with lots of cubicles full of bland furniture. I look around and catch a glimpse of Sam Mendes, who I have no idea how I recognize. But I'm suitably awed anyway, and I wonder if there's any subtle way to slip him my headshot.
No Leo yet, but it's still early. Besides, look, there's Max Casella! Yo, Doog!
Three other guys are doing stand-in work too. We're all put in place, where we proceed to stand for a good hour or so while the shot is lined up. Fun. DiCaprio's stand-in is really tall and chiseled, and I suddenly feel very small.
Just as I'm starting to nod off - standing up, mind you - the first AD calls out, "First team on set." I turn around, and there he is, gleaming like a toothpaste commercial:
Leonardo DiCaprio.
I have to admit, I suddenly develop the first man-crush I've had in my adult life. I mean, the guy is literally glowing. I recall the ridiculous levels of tabloid coverage he received after Titanic, and I can almost see why. He's magnetic. Even when he's just slouching against a column, waiting for something to happen, there's something about him that makes you want to stare. And I do. Blatantly.
"Hi, I'm Max," says Casella, introducing himself to me. I shake his hand distantly, still entranced with DiCaprio. I think I say to him, "Yo, Doog."
Shortly thereafter, they start filming, so the stand-ins head to the holding room, where the real craft services table awaits. At last!
As we're walking down the hall, a vision of blonde beauty passes me on my left. Kate Winslet has just arrived. She's all teeth and sunshine and British accent, and I almost trip as I crane my neck to follow her down the hall. She's much prettier in person than I'd thought before!
Forgetting Leo, I wonder if she'd consider divorcing Mendes and marrying me instead. After all, I'm an occasionally-employed actor! I have prospects!
Turning to the abundantly-laden craft services table, I hope I'll get another glimpse before the day is out. Sure enough, not 20 minutes later I'm back on set, as the crew is preparing the next shot. Nearby, I see Winslet and DiCaprio embracing like old friends. It's the real-life Titanic reunion! Kate and Leo are standing arm in arm, talking with Mendes. I wish I had a camera, because this is pure tabloid gold.
Suddenly, I realize that I DO have a camera, right in my pocket - my camera phone! Dare I snap a shot of this? I look around, and decide against it. Far too many people milling around, I'd surely get booted off the set and black-listed before you could say, "I'm king of the world!"
Maybe later.
The next day, I'm doing extra work. We're filming a shot in which DiCaprio enters his boss' office. Through sheer luck - I seem to have an inordinate amount of this - I've been placed at a desk right outside the office.
Each take, DiCaprio passes right by me, not five feet away. Every time they call "Cut," he leans up against the wall by my desk. He's generally avoiding eye contact with everybody, but I catch his glance once, and he actually smiles and says "Hi," which has me wanting to doodle his name in big loopy heart letters all over my spiral-bound notebook and pass notes to my girlfriends.
A few scenes later, I'm at the same desk, and this time, DiCaprio is walking out of the office. As he quietly rehearses his lines to himself, I realize that I'm getting an inside view of something most people never see: Leo's 'process.' He says the line this way, then that, cocking his head, trying to find the perfect inflection. I'd offer him some tips, but hey, I don't want to embarrass the poor guy.
He's sipping on an iced coffee, and when he's called for a rehearsal, he puts it down on my desk, asking, "Hope you don't mind if I leave this here?" I stammer something about Gilbert Grape, and he walks away. I stare at the iced coffee, and something suddenly hits me:
That's DiCaprio DNA on that straw.
I look around. Nobody is watching. Do I dare? I could sell this on eBay for boatloads of cash! Excuses of where the drink vanished to begin to form.
"Oh, I'm sorry, did you want that? I drank it." Or, "Don't ask me, ask Casella!" Or maybe even, "Iced coffee? What iced coffee?" It could work! I could walk away rich, rich, rich!
But then I scold myself. I mean, yeah, it might be profitable, but it would be wrong. Just wrong! The moral implications are staggering. After all…the guy needs that iced coffee!
The next day, I'm standing-in again. While taking five, DiCaprio is chatting with character actor Dylan Baker. Baker's really funny, and the two of them are cracking up. I look around, and notice that everyone is busy doing other things. Nobody is paying any attention. This is it!
So I quietly take out my phone, turn on the camera, and pretend I'm checking my voicemail. I stand with my ear facing in the general direction of the two actors, and praying I'm in the clear, I press the button.
CLICK!
Aargh! Even though my phone is on silent, the damn thing still makes that computerized 'Taking-A-Photo' sound! (Just what is the deal with that? There's nothing clicking on the phone, why must it pretend it's an old-school camera? Is it trying to fool us into thinking there are moving parts inside?)
DiCaprio hears the noise, and looks around for its source, but I very intently continue 'listening to my messages,' even going so far as to look at my watch as though checking to see when this person 'called' me. After a minute or so, he goes back to chatting it up with Baker.
After awhile I finally 'hang up' and put the phone back in my pocket. I glance around nervously; nobody is watching me. I did it, I'm safe! Whew! That was close. Thank god for my superior acting abilities, they got me out of a tight jam! See? DiCaprio should have asked me for tips!
I finish up my day and sign out, done working on the film. Only once I'm several blocks away do I dare check out the photo I've scored. I'm giddy with excitement, but when it comes up on my screen, it's almost totally black. What the...?
And then I realize. In my nervous haste, I took a photo... of my ear canal.
Oh well. At least there's no wax. And I had an adventure.
Yo, Doog!
http://www.backstage.com/bso/news_reviews/columns/first_person_display.jsp?vnu_content_id=1003627345
August 24, 2007
By Scott Matthew Harris
A few months ago, I get a call from Grant Wilfley Casting. They ask if I'd like to do a few days of extra work on a film called Revolutionary Road.
To me, it sounds like an uninteresting war film. But I don't care - whatever, I need the cash. Especially once they mention that Leonardo DiCaprio is going to be in it. DiCaprio's a big star, so it'll be a major production, which means - you guessed it, a nice big craft services table.
Yeah, baby. Bring on the free food!
That night, I look up the film on IMDb. It's something of a Titanic reunion, with both DiCaprio and Kate Winslet starring, as well as Kathy Bates. And Sam Mendes, famed director (and Winslet's husband, natch) is directing. Wow, pretty big deal! I wonder if I'll get a glimpse of either of the stars.
Turns out the movie's set in the 1950s, so the following week I get a wardrobe fitting and a period haircut - hey, free haircut! The perks just don't stop! - and a week or so later, I'm on set.
Well, not quite. I'm actually in the basement of at a club in downtown Manhattan, which is more like a cave. This is the extras holding room. It's dark, dank, and the "craft services" consist of stale bagels and warm orange juice.
So I'm sitting there, filling out my paperwork, remembering that the last time I'd done this was as a stand-in on Funny Games. Thank God I'm not just standing in this time - on this one, I'll actually be in the film! Just then, a PA walks up and asks me, "Hey, how tall are you?"
Uh-oh. Why does he want to know? I think quickly. I'm actually 5'8" and 1/2 inches, so should I say 5'9", which is the height listed on my resume? Or should I fake him out, and go lower? Which would be more advantageous? "Five feet eight," I finally blurt out. "Great!" he says. "Come with me, you're going to be a stand-in."
Sigh.
We stop along the way to get my color cover. (This time around, I know what that is, and don't I feel such the know-it-all!) I find out that I won't be standing in for DiCaprio - wouldn't THAT have impressed the girls! - but instead for Max Casella, the actor probably best known for playing Vinnie, the best friend on Doogie Howser, M.D. On learning this, I can't stop saying "Yo, Doog!" to anyone who cares to listen, which mostly winds up being myself.
We get to the set, and it's pretty blah-looking. But it's supposed to - the scenes we're shooting all take place in a 1950's office, with lots of cubicles full of bland furniture. I look around and catch a glimpse of Sam Mendes, who I have no idea how I recognize. But I'm suitably awed anyway, and I wonder if there's any subtle way to slip him my headshot.
No Leo yet, but it's still early. Besides, look, there's Max Casella! Yo, Doog!
Three other guys are doing stand-in work too. We're all put in place, where we proceed to stand for a good hour or so while the shot is lined up. Fun. DiCaprio's stand-in is really tall and chiseled, and I suddenly feel very small.
Just as I'm starting to nod off - standing up, mind you - the first AD calls out, "First team on set." I turn around, and there he is, gleaming like a toothpaste commercial:
Leonardo DiCaprio.
I have to admit, I suddenly develop the first man-crush I've had in my adult life. I mean, the guy is literally glowing. I recall the ridiculous levels of tabloid coverage he received after Titanic, and I can almost see why. He's magnetic. Even when he's just slouching against a column, waiting for something to happen, there's something about him that makes you want to stare. And I do. Blatantly.
"Hi, I'm Max," says Casella, introducing himself to me. I shake his hand distantly, still entranced with DiCaprio. I think I say to him, "Yo, Doog."
Shortly thereafter, they start filming, so the stand-ins head to the holding room, where the real craft services table awaits. At last!
As we're walking down the hall, a vision of blonde beauty passes me on my left. Kate Winslet has just arrived. She's all teeth and sunshine and British accent, and I almost trip as I crane my neck to follow her down the hall. She's much prettier in person than I'd thought before!
Forgetting Leo, I wonder if she'd consider divorcing Mendes and marrying me instead. After all, I'm an occasionally-employed actor! I have prospects!
Turning to the abundantly-laden craft services table, I hope I'll get another glimpse before the day is out. Sure enough, not 20 minutes later I'm back on set, as the crew is preparing the next shot. Nearby, I see Winslet and DiCaprio embracing like old friends. It's the real-life Titanic reunion! Kate and Leo are standing arm in arm, talking with Mendes. I wish I had a camera, because this is pure tabloid gold.
Suddenly, I realize that I DO have a camera, right in my pocket - my camera phone! Dare I snap a shot of this? I look around, and decide against it. Far too many people milling around, I'd surely get booted off the set and black-listed before you could say, "I'm king of the world!"
Maybe later.
The next day, I'm doing extra work. We're filming a shot in which DiCaprio enters his boss' office. Through sheer luck - I seem to have an inordinate amount of this - I've been placed at a desk right outside the office.
Each take, DiCaprio passes right by me, not five feet away. Every time they call "Cut," he leans up against the wall by my desk. He's generally avoiding eye contact with everybody, but I catch his glance once, and he actually smiles and says "Hi," which has me wanting to doodle his name in big loopy heart letters all over my spiral-bound notebook and pass notes to my girlfriends.
A few scenes later, I'm at the same desk, and this time, DiCaprio is walking out of the office. As he quietly rehearses his lines to himself, I realize that I'm getting an inside view of something most people never see: Leo's 'process.' He says the line this way, then that, cocking his head, trying to find the perfect inflection. I'd offer him some tips, but hey, I don't want to embarrass the poor guy.
He's sipping on an iced coffee, and when he's called for a rehearsal, he puts it down on my desk, asking, "Hope you don't mind if I leave this here?" I stammer something about Gilbert Grape, and he walks away. I stare at the iced coffee, and something suddenly hits me:
That's DiCaprio DNA on that straw.
I look around. Nobody is watching. Do I dare? I could sell this on eBay for boatloads of cash! Excuses of where the drink vanished to begin to form.
"Oh, I'm sorry, did you want that? I drank it." Or, "Don't ask me, ask Casella!" Or maybe even, "Iced coffee? What iced coffee?" It could work! I could walk away rich, rich, rich!
But then I scold myself. I mean, yeah, it might be profitable, but it would be wrong. Just wrong! The moral implications are staggering. After all…the guy needs that iced coffee!
The next day, I'm standing-in again. While taking five, DiCaprio is chatting with character actor Dylan Baker. Baker's really funny, and the two of them are cracking up. I look around, and notice that everyone is busy doing other things. Nobody is paying any attention. This is it!
So I quietly take out my phone, turn on the camera, and pretend I'm checking my voicemail. I stand with my ear facing in the general direction of the two actors, and praying I'm in the clear, I press the button.
CLICK!
Aargh! Even though my phone is on silent, the damn thing still makes that computerized 'Taking-A-Photo' sound! (Just what is the deal with that? There's nothing clicking on the phone, why must it pretend it's an old-school camera? Is it trying to fool us into thinking there are moving parts inside?)
DiCaprio hears the noise, and looks around for its source, but I very intently continue 'listening to my messages,' even going so far as to look at my watch as though checking to see when this person 'called' me. After a minute or so, he goes back to chatting it up with Baker.
After awhile I finally 'hang up' and put the phone back in my pocket. I glance around nervously; nobody is watching me. I did it, I'm safe! Whew! That was close. Thank god for my superior acting abilities, they got me out of a tight jam! See? DiCaprio should have asked me for tips!
I finish up my day and sign out, done working on the film. Only once I'm several blocks away do I dare check out the photo I've scored. I'm giddy with excitement, but when it comes up on my screen, it's almost totally black. What the...?
And then I realize. In my nervous haste, I took a photo... of my ear canal.
Oh well. At least there's no wax. And I had an adventure.
Yo, Doog!
http://www.backstage.com/bso/news_reviews/columns/first_person_display.jsp?vnu_content_id=1003627345

