Category Archives: Celebs and Media

Where Deadrobot brushes up against celebrities

Cinderella Man

Celebs and Media, General

Back from camping (pics here) and boy am I not burnt. I was expecting to be fried since there were no clouds on sunday. Saturday was okay but the clouds would scatter and the sun would shine hard every time I decided to leave the pool area. The comedians “Oot and Aboot” were very funny and complimented each other’s styles nicely. Get out to see them if you have the chance. Best line of the evening: “Ever see your parents having sex when you were a kid? I did! I was scarred for life. What was with that trail of candy? And why the clown?”

Celebrity watch: They’re filming “Cinderella Man” around the corner from my house and the street is packed with old Model T cars and trucks and they refacaded 90% of the businesses. Ironically (?) there is a men’s bath house at the end of my street. They’ve stripped a few trees halfway down so they can do a low-ish shot in the winter without the darned foliage getting in the way. And it seems Russell Crowe signed the window of the computer store I use to work in over the xmas holidays. I bet they’ll be charging more for iPods now… When I got home from work today, they were releasing the extras from the set (I think there was a couple hundred) and they were streaming off the set past me to get to holding. In their costumes they looked like something from “Grapes of Wrath”. Quite freaky, actually.

Cyclic

Celebs and Media, Personal Bits, Toronto, Work

Did you see me? Did you see me?! My frist This is Wonderland appearance was last night. Total screen time: 2.5 seconds. Body parts seen: a hand, a head (looking down). I am amazed how much screen time I got for a nine hour shoot. I need a new agent.

Okay kids…life is cyclic. Or circular. Life behaves like an Aikido master flipping insolent students. Or like a hoolahoop with a nail in it. Whiiiiirrrrrl. Poke. Whiiiiiiiirrrrl. Poke. Im on the set of QaF and I strike up a conversation with the extra next to me, who looks thin, haggard and ill. I mention the set we’re on doesnt look anything like the bars on Church, not even Woodys. Somehow we mention the Eagle. My conversationalist friend snorts the kind of nasty snort that makes you want to wipe yourself physically and mentally. Wait…Im getting ahead of myself.

Its winter 1998. Its my first week as doorman at the Eagle and things so far have been quiet until someone comes from the back bar to tell me there are two guys in the back picking fights. I go back and find two guys drunk (and possibly stoned) out of their minds. They’re insulting everyone who will listen. They look me up and down and say something along the lines of “You’re the doorman?” and laugh. Both have pool cues clutched in their intoxicated hands. I take the pacifist route and tell the night manager to go call the cops. They aren’t waving the cues around, mind you but they wont let them go. They refuse to leave and I tell them “You’re leaving either on your own or you will be escorted by cops…your choice”. Drunk twits think the cops getting involved in their little foggy logic trap would be a good idea and wait (“We’re drunk, we want to stay and keep drinking, and we hate you all”). Meanwhile they’re saying things like they will have the bar’s license, have my job, they make more money than god, they know politicians, etc…the basic stupid-assed drunk guy shit.

Suddenly, a guy who was sitting by the pool table watching this whole thing jumps up and grabs the pool cue out of the taller of the Two Twits and shoves him out the emergency exit. Woop! BANG. Twit #1 falls hard on the ice and flips over, successfully breaking his arm. Twit #2 is grabbing at the back of the Samaritan’s jacket the best a drunk twit can. When Twit #1 is out and down, the Samaritan turns on Twit #2 and shoves him out the door too. Twit #2 is about 90lbs wet so his ejection was fast. The whole time this is taking place my jaw is on the floor while I stood there frozen, never having been in a barroom altercation ever. The Samaritan turns to me after pushing Twit #2 onto Twit #1 with a wet thud and says “That’s what you should have done,” and leaves. Me=stunned. Cops come and get an ambulance. They take a statement from me and interview witnesses. Twit #1 sufferers a broken arm and minor scrapes from falling on the ice. Both are taken to the hospital to dry out and get bandaged up. Later on they tried to sue the bar but it was dropped as that no staff was directly involved.

Still with me? Flash forward to last week, the set of QaF…yadda yadda. The slight skinny extra starts badmouthing the Eagle. “Why?” I ask. “Because I broke my ribs there,” he says. You guessed it, he’s Twit #2 and he starts to tell his side of the story, failing to mention that he was intoxicated, high and was belligerent. His story is that they were mercilessly attacked by the pool table when they mental-sparred with a customer. The kicker is that Tiwt #2 didnt recognize me as the bouncer that night, which is no surprise. “We couldnt sue the bar because the one who did the shoving was not an employee of the bar and the guy was never found,” says Twit #2. And never will be, I think to myself. Twit #2 tells me that he and his friend got compensation of sorts, but never elaborated on who this “free money for being an idiot” was from because scene started and we had to shut up. Its sad, really. Why get so tanked that you get yourself into an incident with cops and ambulances just because you hate your life and you need to take it out on others? He went on for a while and I thought of saying something but he looked like he was in a bad way anyway. To quote “Will and Grace”: his life looked like such a terrible disaster, the Red Cross wouldnt serve him coffee.

I remember for days after the Twits Vs. Samaritan incident I dogged myself mentally on how I could have averted the whole thing. I reviewed that night in my head unitl it wore out the chemicals in my brain until it ceased to spark the memory in my neurons correctly. I still have never had to raise my hand to any drunk person in that bar. For the most part, drunks just want to tell you a story and if you spend 5 minutes pretending to listen (try reviewing your bills outstanding in your head) then they become pussycats and leave nicey nice.

I expect the next cyclic thing to happen to me will be I get a fantastic creative job, because its been a while since my last one…right? Right? RIGHT?!?!

I love you George F Walker

Celebs and Media, Work

I got to be in the last episode of This is Wonderland today! That is, the last one if The Ceeb doesnt pick up the series for another season. At least, I think they will, its been getting good reviews.

The best part of today was hearing three different comments on how good my brother was. These were unsolicited comments from extras and background people who didnt know I was family. Im rather proud of him and ever so slightly jealous. But then I think “Bet he can’t code a website.” My first appearance is in episode #8, showing the last Monday of this month. I think this was episode #13 we shot today. Not sure how much of me you will be able to see, Im the middle duty counsel right beside the court police rep. Im wearing a new suit, thank you.

Mike tells me one of the writers has stumbled across this site, and if you are reading this, George F Walker, or Dani Romain: make sure my brother Mike gets good lines. Make him sound good, ok? Oh and how about this idea for the second season: James Ryder has his brother come camp out in his office for a few episodes, nearly pushing him back to his nervous breakdown state! Because the brother looks like a biker! With tatts and a handlebar moustache! Hijinks ensue when the biker brother turns out to know more about law than James and wins the respect of the whole office! Hijinks ensue! Wouldnt that be cool?

ROTC is becoming interesting. I was extremely worried that I would not be able to pick up the routine and be the “weak link” of the group but there are people with less skill than myself. Then again, I have a super teacher who showers me in compliments and help. For some reason Ive become Big Ted (well I know the reason but I cant say what it is right now), my first ever group-based nickname. Im all tingly!

January 20 2004

Celebs and Media

American Idol. Oh you pretty things. Its disturbing to see the amount of people who swallowed the Disney pap that “following your dream will make it happen” and choked, got angy and stormed off when told the truth. Oh sure there were the collection of screechy uber-divas and hissyfit gay men in gawdawful jeans, thats why you watch the first 3 or 4 episodes, right? But one of last nights contestants tried to do a jazzy scat number to Route 66 and was pretty much all over the map musically (I have to write that one down). What was more disturbing was the look on her face when the “reality checks” (as the presenters like to call their rating boosting insults) started to come in. I really beleive she thought she did her best and yet her best was like two cats in a sack. Her face is now in the dictionary right beside the word “crestfallen”. The exit interview was even more impressive. Instead of calling the judges bleepity bleep bleepers she held back the tears and thanked them and wished the show a good season. Okay she sucked and her dress was falling off but man o man she had one strong backbone. What worries me is that they said they had close to 30K more contestants this season than last. Are we all living in a dream?

I have a secret fantasy where I audition for The Lofters and bill myself as the fat, balding gay guy over 30yrs old amongst the 20somethings. Can you imagine the audition tape? Thankfully I can and keep it in the realm of fantasy and not bring it out into the harsh light of reality. I would embarass myself and would most likely get my face on TV as filler in the section of the show that is reserved for “goofball, wacky and crazy auditions”. Now. Why cant the “wacky, goofball and embarassing” American Idol people hear themselves? Do they not have friends who love them? Would you not tell your friend that they were about to screw up royally? “Gosh Missy your voice is like velvet! Dont worry, the cat always hides under the bed when you sing Celene Dione.”

After I chased that down with My Big Fat Annoying Fiance, a Joe Schmoe rip off that makes me think that the girl who is fooling her family into believing she’s marrying a slob is a gold digger and doesnt love her family much.

I am obsessing about TV too much.

This Is Wonderland

Celebs and Media, Personal Bits, Queer stuff, Work

Okay heres my take on my brother’s show This Is Wonderland. If I could strain a muscle while wishing it didnt resemble Ally McBeal too much I would have, right up to the point where Alice has to get back into the security line at the court house door. What made me relax was her line “Bite me!” to someone in the line up. From there on I thought making comparisons wouldnt be necessary. It rambled along nicely and I got a good feeling about the show. Thankfully they didnt use an unsteady cam for the courtroom scenes, that would have been waaaay too ’90s cop show.

I got a call to be on the set of QaF again this week. What a surprise! I happened to miss the shuttle bus at 6am (went right back to sleep after shutting off the alarm) and got the second bus which got to set at 10, with 30 or so over-50 gentlemen. They were shooting a dream sequence where everyone in Babylon is old, shirtless and dancing. Because I was with these people when I got off the bus, I decided to stay with these guys for that part of the sequence. No AD came and corrected this mistake, even though clearly everyone was much older than I was. Heh. Subversive, me. So apparently a character dies this season. Wont spoil it right now.

I dont think I will be going back to QaF anymore as that the conditions for background holding are quite deplorable. If theyre going to keep 200+ extras waiting in holding for 5 or more hours they should provide better rooms/chairs for the duration. Im not being a prima donna here, folks. You try sitting on a plastic fold-up for more than an hour and come back to me singing the praises of chairdom. Oh my angry ‘roids. And some heat in the room, other than the hot air coming out of loud mouth schnook next to you blabbering on about how stupid his agent is, would be nice. I am well aware that being an extra means “Hurry up and wait” but was there any reason for us to have a 10am call time and then hit the set at 4pm for an hour, and that was a wrap? Could this not have been scheduled better?

When I got home after that, I found an email from my brother saying they might call me back to be his assistant Crown Attourney on TiW again. Yay TV! Now theres a set!

Wile E Coyote

Celebs and Media, Hobbies, Work

Imagine you’re Wile E Coyote. Imagine youve released a boulder that you hope will destroy your arch enemy the Road Runner. Imagine it going all wrong and you are suddenly hunted by the same machinations you created. Why the fuck would you run away from it, following the same path as its course of destruction? I am not going to ramble on about cartoons here, but I do want to talk about a lost gem of a movie called The Car.

So this town is terrorized by a demon car that comes out of nowhere (great long shot at the beginning of The Car coming out of Monument Valley) that seems to kill indiscriminately and with virtol. But the silly villagers dont know enough to dodge to the left or right of the devil machine. Like Wile E. they run along the path of the oncoming juggernaut. I know Im suppose to suspend belief here (a demon CAR!!!!) but a car coming at me while Im on my bike has a good chance of missing me if I brake hard enough at the last moment. Enough about the movie’s bad suspension of disbelief, here’s the good stuff:

A young James Brolin. Like a poor man’s Burt Reynolds, but who has an ounce more ability to act. And oddly enough, slightly sexier. I guess James ego is as huge as Burts and thats attractive. That or he shouts a lot. Who can say. Attraction is a funny thing.

The Car itself. Great POV shots from iside the cab of the demon car. Nice use of red filters to give it a “Hey! Im driving remotely from Hell!” feel. I dont know what actual car The Car is modeled from but they did do a great job with the headlights. They’re like eyes! How creepy!

Best line: “Cat Poo!” Who knew you could twist your mouth that way?

The love intrest dies 2/3rds into the movie. This is rather unconventional for slasher flicks and is weirdly refreshing. However, our hero never really gets all THAT upset.

Its not your typical “Jaws-esque” kinda movie. I recommend for a night in if you’re in the mood for formage.

8pm Update: So I went to Knowcean today and met with Dita. Wiiiieeeerd. She seemed to me to be dressed like an event planner rather than a Software development Administrations type. She’s in a power suit/skirt thing with luxurious nails and smart hair…and she’s reading from a list of prepared interview questions wich made me think “Ok, we are just going through the motions here, shes got somebody else hired already.”

Then she looked through my portfolio to stop dead at the Illustration section. “Can I make a photocopy of these?” she asks. I remind her that they are property of myself and Rogers but, sure, what the hey. She’s eager to see more so I direct her to my website again. And that was it…it ended quite abruptly and she didnt ask if I had any questions. I did get to ask what the major money maker was for Knowcean and she stumbled over some explianation of a stylized Content Management system. Oh. Ok. Thanks! And I leave. As I go out, Carbon Computing called and offered me a job starting tomorrow. Arg! No days grace!? Im happy about it though. I get to keep up with technology and current software versions. Yay!

And just now someone private messaged me that his friend needs web/print work for his new bath house. Rains and pours and stuff. Wee! Free passes!

Got it, Jack

Celebs and Media, Queer stuff, Toronto, Work

Im sitting in the diner on QaF and Im in a two-seater booth across from a guy who has mentioned his girlfriend a few times (got it, Jack) and how nice the waitress’ ass is (“Nice pants,” I reply) and all during the scene Im mouthing the words “fisting at the Don Jail”. Suprisingly he picks up “fisting” and “jail” and laughs and holds up his meaty hairy forearm. At the cut I tell him of a guy I knew who had numerical increments tattooed up his arm past his elbow. He goes white. Take that back to your girlfriend, Jack.

Im in a bit of a tizz…I am forced to going back to the bar for pick up shifts and the odd promotional night as that there are very little jobs out there right now. As I write this I am moments away from a meeting with the GM to negotiate getting “half” my job back, which would allow me time to do freelance stuff but yet pull a decent paycheque (which is better than no paycheque) from the bar. I feel dirty and gross but its better than working at a bath house or scrubbing pots. I know a few guys who are in the same predicament, taking jobs for the sake of jobs right now (except for one Panda in the states who has landed a dream job koffkofffuckoffkoff). I call it the NMD or New Millenium Depression, because Im depressed about having to do this crappy work to get by (note: that was a joke, no emails please!)

It seems to be a trend for the post-Internet implosion people, to take on a couple jobs while still holding onto some shred of internet work. Ive reworked my portfolio site to align it with web trends (ie: got rid of the Flash navigation) and added new thingys to it. Its only been two days. Where the hell are the phone calls? I know…I know…hit the streets, send out emails and open my yap at every given opportunity.

Last night, at 2am, I applied to WestJet as a Customer Service Rep!

Black Ink

Celebs and Media, Toronto, Work

Today was boring. I was street filler in front of the gym where our intrepid QaF friends work out. I was kind of pissed when I found out that for all the scrambling I did to borrow my Dad’s car for the scene (they pay extra for extras who use their own cars in shots), the casting company had overbooked the background with cars. They didnt need me. Harumph! Before I could raise a stink the Eastern European guy behind me (who was also S.O.L.) exploded “If I have to pay for parking because you arent going to use my car I am gone!”

“Bye,” says the holding director. And as he walks out, she scribbles something beside his name in black ink. She looks up at me.

“I will …um… just go get my car out of security holding,” I mutter.

Cleavage

Celebs and Media, Personal Bits, Work

Call time for Prom Queen was at 7:30am. I dont think Ive been up before 8am since spring 2002. It was weird to see people actually on the street. They got us into Hamilton and into background holding at 8:30 and left us there until 5:30. Seriously. I had forgotten my book and my gameboy and, for kicks, I was considering killing the owners of the greasy fry-up that was renting out their 15×15 “party” room to the production company. It would have been something. The collection of extras was your similar-to-QaF trendy hip fags in one corner, the straight boys in another and a few older types, playing friends of lawyers (one played by Scott Thompson), all sitting around absorbing the smell of stale cigarettes and bacon. They pulled half the extras into set for tight shots and left the rest of us there to listen to the owners of the restaraunt (?) tell us about how people kept on filming pornos in the back “party” room. He was going onto his third sexcapade story when I blurted out “OOOH! King of the Hill!” which thankfully came on the tv over the make-up benches. Volume up. Ten minutes into the show they called us to the set…fuck. No…not during The Bold and the Beautiful…

Wardrobe was interesting. Intructions were to bring hip youthfull biz type clothes, which I have none. I brought my brushed black cotton sport coat, grey dress shirt and acid lime green tie borrowed from my roomie. The assistant wardrobe took one look and made a face that resembled your finger after being a week in water. “Oh go ahead and put that on,” she said of the tie. When the main wardrobe mistress came in I was the first person she saw coming into the room “Thats a great tie!” she exclaims. Oh movie people.

By the time they placed us on set and gave us our crossing cues I was in a much better mood. Punchy. Scott Thompson flubbed his line 5 out of 7 takes but they didnt seem to mind the order of “this brave gay teen”. I had my first instant background mime lesson in seconds. “Cantelope, watermellon” my lips feighned while my eyes were so expressive. The girl I was paired up with had a cracking great chest with a pair of lips for a zipper pull lain poetically over her cleavage. I couldnt stop looking at it. I wound up mime-talking to it at one point. She and I nearly started to laugh out loud at one point.

In all a good day if not long. I wound up getting extra cash upon extra cash for the time-overages. I wonder what I will be put on next?

Queer as Folk, Indeed

Celebs and Media, Queer stuff, Work

So Im in a holding pen somewhere out in a derelict Mississagua factory thats been converted into the set of Babylon, the nightclub where our lovely citizens of Queer as Folk bitch at each other on the dancefloor. And Im with 200 other club kids/musclemarys/heroin addicts/blithering idiots that make up the “background” as we are called (no longer “extras” weve been reduced even further). And Im listening to this loud mouthed, long haired homophobe spew third rate gay jokes. Im in shock. I am sure he was doing it to make sure nobody would hit on him. Fat chance. this guy wasnt as ugly as…oh…the Comic Book Guy from the Simpsons but he was just as annoying and far from amusing. As I went from holding pen to wardrobe (they didnt like my sparkly Hustler shirt–sorry Paul) to make up (the hairdresser tsk tsk at the back of my neck and said he didnt have the time to do a whole head shave) I was amazed at the amount of homophobic comments were made. Crew would joke about not bending over. Make up girls joked about who looked gayer. And of course you had the nervous straight guys asserting their machismo with comments like “They should make a show called Queer Factor where you have to fish used condoms out of a tank with your teeth.” Perspective time: Im on a shitty third rate soap opera tv set and I expect sensitivity?

Well…yes. I do.

I hear all the time that gay people “respect” Showcase and QaF for putting out some gay culture, but it looks like its rotten from the inside, kids.

Some random thoughts:

• I was “dancing” beside a group of kids, two of which had braces. You gat paid extra money if you are kissing on screen so they should have paired those two up and had them lock metal.
• To get the “background” going, they would blare out the music and start us dancing with lots of energy, only to shut it off mid-beat so the actors could say their lines. If you know what a “audio black hole” is then you know how hard it was not to stop dancing a beat after the music ended. It was like going over a cliff every time.
• Saw my brother’s ex-girlfriend’s brother on set doing makeup for the main actors. Nice guy. We did the gunslinging Isaac-from-Love Boat kapow at each other across the room. Funny.
• The guy that wound up being with me (my date, I shall call him) for the whole shoot was straight. The floor director paired us up and put us on the stairs and the first thing out of his mouth was “My girlfriend’s roommate got me into this.” Gotcha buddy…I wont come onto you. Kudos to you when we were asked to move through the crowd past the camera for grabbing my shoulder and konga lining. I hope they keep that.
• Food sucked. Hot dogs and PandJ sammiches. I bet first season background got better.