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.