The movie life: They shoot
extras, don’t they?

Robyn’s Hood
By Robyn McCloskey

The big movie opening this weekend is Shooter, starring Mark Wahlberg and Donny Glover. Some of it was shot in and around our very own city of Philadelphia.
Wahlberg plays Bob Lee Swagger, a sharpshooter framed for an assassination attempt on the president in front of Independence Hall. I know this because I played an extra in that particular scene, along with about 250 others. Standing around all day with the sun beating down on me is not exactly my idea of a good time, but I seemed to be the only one who minded. Everyone around me seemed to be having the time of their lives.
For the big "assassination-attempt scene," all us extras were corralled on the field opposite Independence Hall. An impressive red, white and blue grandstand was in place along with a bunch of guys dressed as Secret Service agents, FBI agents and policemen. It was all very authentic-looking, which leads me to the good time to be had by all.
It seemed as though the guys in uniform, who were issued prop guns, were as happy as kids in a candy store, pigs in a poke, Kirstie Alley at the Cheesecake Factory. They took turns admiring one another’s guns and posing Charlie’s Angel-style while reciting Clint Eastwood lines.
As a woman, it was all sort of lost on me. But it did remind me of the story told by John Eldridge in his book Wild at Heart. His wife leaves him alone for the day with his two young sons, and as she’s walking out the door she reminds him not to let them play with guns. Upon her return, they are sitting at the kitchen table, having chewed their peanut butter and jelly sandwiches into the shape of miniature rifles and are pretending to shoot each other. I guess it’s just in their DNA.
The scene called for us non-uniformed-non-gun-toting extras to wave American flags and cheer loudly upon the arrival of the "president," played by someone whose name I was not familiar with but who did manage to look quite presidential. Which leads me to believe that with 2008 breathing down our necks, maybe he should give up acting and run for office. He wouldn’t be the first guy to trade his SAG card for a first-class seat on Air Force One.
I personally think actors make great presidents; they’re used to attention, they can recite other people’s words as their own, and they’re good under pressure. Of course not all presidents need to star on the silver screen opposite a monkey to be good under pressure . . . just ask Monica Lewinsky. She claimed Bill Clinton was good under pressure, or was that messy under pressure? Well, either way, there is a fine line between acting and running for office.
But back to the "attempted assassination" scene. The extras chosen to play the official uniformed characters were having a blast rehearsing, even if the only reason they got the part was because, as Greg Brady was told in the classic episode of The Brady Bunch where he was tempted to leave his brothers and sisters behind to have a go at fame and fortune as Johnny Bravo, "you fit the suit."
Playtime was over and it was now time to shoot the scene. We were to listen for the sound of gunfire, and when we heard it, we had to crouch down and "run for our lives." Every time the director — the imposing and impressive Antoine Fuqua — yelled "Cut!!!" we did it all over again, about 10 times in fact.
The blooper of the day occurred when the actor portraying the Ethiopian president, who introduces the American president, forgot his opening line. It was after about the seventh or eighth take when he forgot the words "These are great times." He spoke with such an authentic Ethiopian accent that I thought Angelina Jolie might adopt him on the spot.
As we all stood there in awkward silence, waiting for him to speak, I couldn’t believe that out of 250 people I was the only one who realized he had forgotten his line. Was no one else paying attention? Were they all so busy impressing each other with their props that no one could help the poor guy out?
Since I was close to the front, I managed to stage whisper to him in my authentic American accent, "These are great times." He looked in my direction, gave a polite nod of thanks and continued with the scene.
So while I may not have been the happiest extra there, at least I was paying attention, which is more than I can say for the guys with the guns. ••
Robyn McCloskey’s column appears each week in the Northeast Times. She can be reached at crmccloskey@verizon.net