The Tinsley Bumble Show, mostly

This was a pilot for a television show. Tinsley Bumble was a spoiled rich kid whose doting daddy was locked up in a Club Fed style prison, and I got to play one of the prisoners. The scene was shot up near Harlem, in a park on a day that was overcast and drizzled a bit. I spent the day in prison garb, playing golf and hanging out with a little girl who played my daughter during a Visitor’s Day scene at the prison. Another non-Union gig that didn’t pay much, but at least one of my fellow actors gave me a ride back to the Port Authority Terminal, so at least I saved some money that way.

            I have to mention the costume I had on, which was a one-piece orange jumpsuit, complete with matching shoes and slip on sneakers. It fit perfectly. This is important because I had just gone through a heckuva time with Gail regarding a jumpsuit that wouldn’t fit and had to be extensively modified. When I found out that she liked to build costumes, I asked her if she would build me something for Halloween. What, she asked. An Elvis jumpsuit, says I. You get me the pattern, she says, and I’ll make it for you.  I went to www.simplicity.com and got the biggest version of the pattern that they made. What I didn’t know at the time is that Gail HATES to make jumpsuits, so she wasn’t really into doing this. She just made it to the specs of the pattern, never bothering to measure me at all. Well, it turns out that I’m a good 2 ½” longer than the pattern. Had she not put in extensions where the belt area would be, it would have seriously hampered my ability to procreate. I wore the suit I think about a half a dozen times, and it now resides in a garment bag in the back of my closet.

The Sopranos, Part Two & change

The second time I worked on The Sopranos was the day after Memorial Day, May 31, 2005. I remember this very clearly because that was the day JW Pepper changed over computer systems, from the AS400 to Prelude. Prelude is so damn convoluted in the way it does things, takes so many more keystrokes to perform a function than the old system did, and likes to have you repeat an action not once but several times, it makes Windows XP look simple. Needless to say no one liked the new system very much, and I never did learn to like it, even up to the day I got fired. With the AS400, my hands never hurt, even during busy season.  I did so much more typing with Prelude that I now have constant pain in my fingers. During busy season the pain went up to my forearms. They never did wake up and got something that really worked simply, but they modified the hell out of this program that was billed as something that we wouldn’t have to change. Anyway, I was scheduled to be off that day, but they wanted me to come in and “take one for the team”. Reluctantly I agreed, homosexual metaphors running through my head. The Friday before that I got a call from Gail who said, “Call Grant Wilfrey, you’re working on The Sopranos.” I tried not to smile to broadly when I told my bosses that I had a change of plans, but I failed miserably.

            There was one thing that almost lost me the job. The scene to be shot was at a funeral and I needed a dark suit. At the time I didn’t have one, but I needed a new suit anyway. The casting people almost told me no, but I talked them into it. I called Gail back, told her what happened and she said, “You want me to find you a suit?” I said sure and hung up.  She called back about twenty minutes later and said “It called to me.” She found at a thrift store a three-piece navy blue pinstripe suit with two pair of pants for $20. It needed some minor alterations so I could do the shoot and would need major alterations later, but it would work. My wife does miracles on a regular basis.

            According to the directions on the casting director’s answering machine, there was to be a spot where we’d leave our cars and take a shuttle to the set. I got to the pick-up point on time, but there wasn’t anyone around. No one answered at Wifley’s either.   After about a half hour I drove directly to set, hoping I didn’t screw myself over too badly. They didn’t tell me to go home, (“and why was Mike Russo late?” I heard a PA yell on a walkie. “Because I went where the casting office sent me!” was my reply.) , but I missed the chance for some extra money as a stand in, something that wasn’t mentioned when I booked the gig.

            Anyway, it went well enough.  Wardrobe approved me in two seconds, so I was fine. The scene was at a funeral home in Jersey, and all of the locals were out to see their favorite characters. Holding was a parlor downstairs in the home, and it was kind of funny passing by the locals with their cameras, getting excited as we got close, and looking a bit disappointed when they realized that none of us were the stars they were hoping to see. Among the regulars who were there that day were Michael Imperioli, Tony Sirico and Robert Iler. Robert Funaro, whose character had killed himself the episode before, was lying in a coffin in the viewing room. It was cool seeing all of those guys, but the musician in me was much more impressed by being near Bruce Springsteen’s long time friend and guitarist, Miami Steve Van Zandt. Outside I was fairly cool and professional, but inside I’m kowtowing in his direction, chanting “Miami Steve Van Zandt!  Miami Steve Van Zandt!” I mentioned this to my friend Kelly, who is a huge Springsteen fan, and she basically thanked me for not acting like a fanboy.

            The scene went fairly well, but it did have its share of difficulties. First of all, despite the fact that it was a fairly hot day, the air conditioning stayed off during shooting because it was too noisy. Poor Robert Funaro was sweating like crazy in the coffin, so much so that his back was drenched and his heavily gelled hair stuck straight back when he came up, looking like it was frozen in a breeze. The floors creaked, too, so when Michael Imperioli moved from one spot to another you heard this giant CRREEAAK follow him. They cut that sound from the final print so you don’t hear it, and the dialog is snappier as well. Robert Iler was telling us about the candid snaps that were on a piece of poster board near the coffin.  They were shot at the beach and it looked like a summer day, but Bob said that they were shot in February and that everyone was freezing that day. One extreme or the other, I guess.

            I had three bits that I did that day, two of which you can see. The first one is when a little old lady is shown crying at the coffin. As she crosses you see two people sitting in the front row of the viewing room, and behind them is a woman with her back to the camera (her name’s Carol) and me. Carol’s head covers the lower right portion of my face, but I’m there. Carol, whom I found out went to New England Conservatory about the time that I was at Berklee, kept saying to me “I hope thy only show my ass; I wanna work again!” Well, she got her wish. I’m also shown escorting a little old lady into the next room, and I was also sitting with another young lady in the viewing room. When we broke for lunch, Carol, myself and a guy who was also a realtor, ate together and swapped stories.  I told her that I had said to that last person I was with “You’re the third girl I’ve been with today!” To which Carol replied, “Yeah, I felt like such a bouton, going from you to him to him!” By the way, there was only one pasta dish for lunch. By the time we wrapped I was drained from the heat. I got cheap Jersey gas, loosened my shirt and tie and went home. Still, even a bad day on the set beats a good day at the office, especially with Prelude waiting for me at my desk.      

            The third time, as I said last week, was sort of anti-climactic. They asked me to work the next day, but I couldn’t get away from Pepper two days in a row, so I passed. I wish that I had gotten another chance to work on that show, but I’m grateful for the time I did have. They set the standard in my mind for how professional a crew could really be.

The Sopranos, Part One

The Sopranos

            I worked on The Sopranos three times. Well, almost three times. The third time, November 4, 2005, I was scheduled to work and I drove down to the location, but because there was a major accident on Route 78, James Gandolfini couldn’t make it on time, so they bagged the whole day. I got paid for the whole day, which was cool, but I’m sorry that I didn’t get to see Tony Soprano himself. He was one of the few regulars on the show that I didn’t see in person. It was also the last time I was called for the show.

            The first time was pretty interesting. I realized just how little my wife knew about the entertainment industry, outside of the G rated fare she had been watching since Janice, her oldest, was born in 1979. Couple that with the fact that she doesn’t remember names very well, and you get some unintentionally amusing moments. For instance, when Grant Wilfrey Casting called the house asking for me, they treated her very badly. When Gail told me about it, she didn’t mention what it was about, only the rudeness. I got cheesed off at how they talked to her, so I decided that I wouldn’t call them back right away. Shortly after Gail called me, she phoned me back.

            “Have you called them back yet?” she asked.

            “No, not yet. Why?”

            “They mentioned ‘sopranos’. Does that mean anything to you?”

            Shocked, pregnant pause. “I’ll call you back.”

            Despite that, I booked the gig. I was still non-Union at the time, so we’re talking about $75.00 for the day here. Still, it’s The Sopranos, and it was definitely a step up from the indie fare I’d been doing, so why not? Besides, I got to go back to NY, see Silvercup Studios...all positives as far as I could see.

            The particular scene we were filming was set in a seedy gambling den. I brought along a whole slew of clothes that someone who was a down and out gambler might wear. I also wore my leather jacket, black t-shirt, faded, beat up jeans and battered work boots. Not shaving completed the look. The wardrobe people came around, looked through all of the stuff that I had brought with me, looked at what I had on and told me that what I was wearing was fine. Sigh. I was going to be on a major television show looking like Johnny Ramone gone to seed.      

            There were a lot of guys waiting in holding, but somehow I got picked to be in the scene. About a dozen or so of us were brought down to set, which really looked like some backroom gambling operation. Very impressive. I was also impressed with the way the crew moved about the set. They adjusted lights with a minimum of fuss, and when I had a question, they answered me directly and without a condescending tone. We were placed along the walls and tables, the PAs grouping smokers with other smokers and non-smokers with other non-smokers. I was pared with this really tall, thin, bearded film student who was as star struck as I would’ve been at his age. He was studying to be a director, and this was his first time on a real professional set. He told me that one-day he hoped to be directing on a set of his own. I don’t remember his name, but I hope that he’s living his dream.

            Steve Buscemi was on set that day, along with actors I recognized but whose names escaped me (one of these days I’ll have to rent or borrow the DVDs of that season so I can find out who they were). He was to greet these other two characters, there was some conversation and they would walk out, the camera trailing behind them. The Student Director and I moved on action, walking around the room and winding up behind the camera that was to follow Steve as he exited. For some reason, Steve couldn’t hit his mark that day. The crew came up with a solution that, if you watch the scene, you’d never know that it was happening.  At his mark they placed a sandbag. Steve walked to his mark, hit the sandbag and stopped exactly where he needed to be. While they were doing their lines, a crewmember moved the bag out of the way so that, when the time came to make their exit, the camera had a clear path to the door without having to roll over anything. I learned a lot about the craft of film making that day, and I told the Student Director to keep his ears and eyes wide open so he could take some lessons away with him. A few takes later, and they had it in the can. We were dismissed after that scene, and I gave the Student Director my card. Aside from having to move an exhaust pipe to one side of the road so I could get onto the highway without killing myself, the ride home was pretty uneventful.

Kimberly

            Kimberly was the first background job I ever did. It starred Sean Astin, and the scene we shot was along Boathouse Row. I got paid $25 for the day. All I had to do was walk up and down the row, along with a bunch of other extras looking like we belonged there.  The only tough part about the shoot was that it was icy cold the day we did it, and the scene was set in summer. There were a lot of shivering people out there trying to look hot and sweaty.

            This was my first time on a professional set, and I was really in awe of the whole process. I didn’t know how anything worked, where I was to go, any of that stuff. All I knew was that I was working on a movie! There were trucks, equipment, crew, cast and curious drivers passing by as we worked. Philadelphia doesn’t have that jaded view of movie making that NY has. People come up and ask what’s going on and are excited by the fact that a MOVIE is being shot here. This town doesn’t generate that much work, so I think that the whole starry eyed wonder over the process of movie making won’t ever go away. 

            Sean Astin was the first movie star I’d ever seen up close. I mean, I’d seen Julius Erving of the Nets and the Mets’ Cleon Jones at autograph sessions, and I’d met lots of famous musicians who came to Sam Ash to do clinics, but this was different. He was Gomez Addams & Patty Duke’s kid. Plus, he was acting . . . well, like a person! He had just picked up some new roller blades from Kmart and was eagerly trying them out (I forget if they were for the shoot or not).  I had to catch myself more than once to stop staring at him. He didn’t talk to me that day, and it’s just as well; I don’t know what would’ve come out of my mouth if he did.

            Sean’s wife and children were on the set and they ate lunch with the rest of us when we broke. This being my first time on a set, I couldn’t believe all of the stuff that craft services laid out. Cakes, salads, pasta! The tables were crammed with food! This made up a little bit for only being paid $25! I ate my fill and it was quite good.  Nowadays I take it for granted that Craft Services will do their job exactly like that, but again, this being my first set I was amazed.

            I was also struck by just how nice the Astins were. Like I said, they ate with the cast & crew, no star trips to the trailer for them. I remember Sean’s wife as being very pretty, although I couldn’t pick her out in a crowd if you asked me to, and that his daughters were very well behaved. That impressed me most of all, that these weren’t Hollywood brats, causing a commotion and having to be tolerated by those around them because Daddy was the star.  They were polite and minded their manners. Chalk that up to good parenting from Sean & his wife, and also from Patty & John before them. I suspect that they brought up their kids as normally as possible, and Sean passed that along when he raised his own.  Or they could just know how to be polite in front of strangers. I’d like to think it was the former, but given that my own daughter sometimes behaves better for company than for us, some of the later may be true as well.                  

Too long between posts, so...

It's been too long between posts. I promise I'll try to keep up with this in 2013. For now, let me start where I last left of, with the family's 2012 Christmas letter.

December, 2012

Dear Friends and Family,

            WHY? Why, in a world where we’ve seen the expansion of electronic messaging of all kinds and the contraction of actual postal items being physically handled across the globe, when I can know via Facebook and its kindred programs your every movement and thought in an instant, am I still, thirteen years after I wrote my first Xmas letter, typing my thoughts into a computer and sending you an actual piece of paper that contains my reflections on the year that’s almost past, and on the future that lies before us?

            Well, for one thing, it’s tactile. There’s something to be said about actually holding paper that has words on it for one to read. An electronic reader and a computer screen will never take the place of a real book, newspaper, magazine or letter as far as I’m concerned. I feel more connected to what I’m reading when I can actually feel the paper it’s written on. For another, people like to get “stuff”. Witness the madness that ensues at shopping malls across the country this time of year. I truly get excited when I see something of a personal nature in the mail. It’s a gift that I didn’t expect, and will be enjoyed as soon as I open it. Finally, it’s the only way I can keep track of what our lives were like the past 12 months, which was the original intent of these letters in the first place. Like every year, it’s been busy with all kinds of activities. Unlike years past, this one was filled with some pretty significant milestones.

            You could, if you were so inclined, call this The Year of Tina, and you would not be out of line in doing so. She was the one who had the biggest pile of milestones in the family. In the past 12 months she got to shake hands with Joe Biden & Michelle Obama, got the braces off of her teeth, received her Girl Scout Gold Award (along with a pile of congratulatory letters, including one signed by the aforementioned Mrs. O.), got her Life Membership from GSUSA, graduated from Central Bucks High School West & Middle Bucks Institute of Technology (MBIT) and started her first year of college at Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute in Troy, NY. She’s studying mechanical engineering, running sound for the campus theatre group and dating a guy studying computer science (we met him via Skype, which makes me feel old on several levels). She communicates with us using the tech we can handle (phone for Gail, texts for me), and seems to be enjoying her school, her friends and herself. So far, so good.

            Gail’s year has been one of unusual changes. For the first time in a long time, her schedule is not as tied to one or more of her children’s activities. With Tina now living in Troy for the school year, and no longer active in our church, Scouts, the SCA, the Bucks County Aquarium Society or the 4H, there seems to be less ink messing up the spaces in her calendar. Still, she keeps busy with singing in the choir at Family of God, acting as a delegate for the Girl Scout service unit, going to meetings of the Aquarium Society and being available to help out whoever is in need of her expertise in crafting, Scouting, etc. She also takes care of Tina’s bearded dragon, Falkor, while she’s away (I’m mostly in charge of Princess, who celebrated her own milestone this year when she turned 10). Gail celebrated a milestone by going to her 40^th high school class reunion and having a grand ole time in the process. The one thing that she wishes was off our To Do list is the fallout from the car accident. Our attorney is still trying to get the last few bucks out of the insurance companies through arbitration. Things would’ve been settled if not for the fact that the arbitrator both sides could agree on up and died before we could meet with him. Sigh. On the positive side, in February she had surgery on her left hand to alleviate the Carpal Tunnel Syndrome caused by the accident. It was a rousing success, giving her a freedom of movement she hasn’t had in years.  Otherwise, she seems to be adapting to the Empty Nest Syndrome quite nicely.

            For those of you who aren’t Janice’s friend on Facebook, let me just let you know that she is alive and thriving in our nation’s capital, working for the Dept. of Justice, attending and working at various conventions and seeing a guy who treats her well. We saw her here when Tina graduated, and in DC when I was in town for an audition. It’s nice to be related to someone who’s pretty together. 

            Our grandson Zachary is three. Due to Kate’s divorce action and the resulting acrimony between she & her husband, neither of them talks to us. Kate never did call us-it was always Chris who did that-and he won’t call us now because we’re “her family”. All of our information on how he’s doing is third-hand. We’ve seen him once this year. It hurts.

            Your author has had three milestones this year, none of which is related to any of the twelve or so television, film or stage projects I’ve worked on. In March I quietly turned fifty, getting a very nice gourmet cake to celebrate with from the Culinary Arts Teacher at MBIT, courtesy of Tina (Gail got one for her birthday as well). In August, Gail & I, frustrated by the fact that no one will cast me in anything that involves my actually saying words, formed a film production company, Glimmer Productions. We’re looking for projects for me to be featured in that will use a lot of the underutilized local talent that this area has in abundance. I’ve already got some ideas brewing, and I look forward to being able to bring them to life. I’m also pretty sure that due to recent events I’ll be working more than I have been, and mostly in New York. If all goes well, I may have a lot more to write about next year.

            The third milestone I share with Gail. We celebrated out tenth wedding anniversary this past August. It hasn’t always been easy, what with both of us both pretty damaged from our first marriages when we started, and Lord knows that the lack of a steady income hasn’t exactly helped. Still, we laugh often, and manage to get through those obstacles in front of us. Most importantly, we’re there for each other no matter what, and in the final analysis that’s all that really matters.

            And so, that’s the highlights for 2012. It’s been a year where our ever-present past stopped by to say hello more than once. It’s been a year where we’ve struggled to keep our heads above water, and it’s been a year when we’ve gotten some room to breathe. We’ve seen some old friends, made some new ones and for the most part enjoyed the company we’ve kept. As always, the door is open if you happen to stop by and knock. We’ll hopefully see you live and in person, or if not that way, we’ll get to glimpse at your electronically transmitted musings. If neither of those things happen, we’ll always have the tactile reality of 2013’s Xmas letter to look forward to. Until then, take care and God Bless.

                                                                                                            Peace & Love,

                                                                                               

                                                                                                            Gail, Mike, Tina, Princess & Falkor

“I hope you don’t mind that I put down into words,

How wonderful life is while you’re in the world.” Bernie Taupin