Happy Happy Joy Joy Hollywood Milieu ©2010

Written by Denny Dormody

I’m finally working on a feature directed by Garry Marshall. This guy is the man as far as romantic comedies go. Pretty Woman, Beaches, The Princess Diaries, and soon, State of the Union with Richard Gere. All crafted by comedy curmudgeon Garry Marshall. This is Valentine’s Day. He sure has stacked the deck with some A-list, rocket-fuel talent: Julia Roberts, Ashton Kutcher, Anne Hathaway, Shirley McClaine, Jamie Foxx, Patrick Dempsey, Hector Elizondo. Me.

I’ve been trying to get on this show for eons. A surge in unemployment has flooded Central Casting’s inbound phone job-lines. If you can’t get through, you can’t get a job. Smiling. Dialing. One hour. Finally, I’m through. I’m on the call. Downtown LA.

Downtown LA’s Flower Mart. Years earlier Garry Marshall was here shooting Frankie & Johnny, a sweet story with short-order cook Al Pacino and lonely waitress Michelle Pfeiffer. One of my favorite movies ever. One of Garry’s best and least appreciated movies ever. A comedy screenplay by playwright Terrence McNally. Heart tugging. Sensitive. What great art is all about. That was then; this is now. This is today. Garry Marshall is channeling director Frank Capra. Again. It’s a joy to be here.

This is the money shot. A cast of thousands. We, the background extras are here. All 425 of us. Claustrophobia City. This is like Ellis Island on a bad day. It’s early. Like 5am. The porta-johns are in place. A damp circus tent is our home for the day. I can see the beads of sweat on the scarred canvas as the July LA sun slowly rises. It’s going to be a scorcher.
I follow my golden rules of acting, as chronicled in my first book Riding The HOLLYWOOD GLACIER
Glacier, write this down: Get your pay voucher. Eat. Act. I inhale some scrambled eggs. Wardrobe okay’s my ‘look’ as a flower mart shopper. I shake hands with the flotsam of perspiring, I mean aspiring actors. I’m proud to work with my fellow Background or B.G. actors. It’s early. As always, I bring my own cup of Java. It’s how I roll.

Winchell’s Donuts. Most mornings. 4-5am. The night-guy is usually knee-deep in flour, like a Midnight kabuki and wipes down his apron and pours me some wake-up juice. I’m a movie star. Er, movie extra. I don’t have a trailer today? I’m so, so sick of living in that van down by the river. Didn’t they get the memo? OMG. It’s lonely at the top.

Military intelligence via my iPhone reveals on IMDB that Valentine’s Day is a series of intersecting characters that show the obsession of love lost and love found, every February 14^th. The crew is finished rigging the lights. Film is being loaded into “A”, “B” and “C” cameras. I’m ready for my close up Mr. Marshall. This flower mart is huge. I mean huge like a Howard Hughes airplane hanger.

First the Master Shot: The crush of Valentine’s day. Frantic shoppers are buying up every flower left in LA. A cast of thousands is milling in front of the Flower Mart. As we are placed, I instinctively move inside the building. I’d rather work inside on this hot sunny day in Southern California. Inside means I won’t have to worry about sunscreen and hoping that the medic has brought some. This is big budget so there there should be no sunburn worries, if we work outside.

However, I’ve worked on shoots where there is no medic and certainly no sunscreen and you can look forward to a painful red ‘look’ at the end of the day. This is different. This is a Garry Marshall movie and an ocean of sunscreen is in the budget.

I see the action. I’ll be crossing and looking at all the flowers as a Stedi-Cam operator follows actor Ashton Kutcher as he enters the flower mart. Rehearsals are up. I’m about ten feet from Video Village, the location of the camera monitors. The Red Sea of background extras respectfully part the waves as Garry Marshall walks and talks with his crew members and heads back to his director’s chair.

Rehearsal is up. Rolling. Cut. Going again. We are reset. It must look real. It must look natural. Too many people in the back. Too many people in the front. Too many women. Too many men. Seven takes. We nail it. Field marshal, Marshal, smiles. He likes the last take. He and his 1^st AD sing out “Good work everybody.” We all smile. Thanks boss. You couldn’t buy this education.

Lunch. One hour. We are back. Rolling again. Ashton Kutcher is walking through the back entrance to the flower mart and jumps on board a metal flower dolly and sings at the top of his lungs. I pretend to be looking for flowers and cross just behind the dolly. I hope I make the final cut on this shot. It looks like some fun business. Here’s hoping.

New deal. More milling and crossing as we shop for Valentine’s Day. We background actors are now going into overtime hours. It’s been two hours, heading into three hours of double time. Suddenly, it’s over. Our shots are finished. A day of working under the watchful eye of the top romantic comedy director on the planet is over. You really couldn’t buy this education.

We are wrapped. We slump into the shuttle bus seats. Back to the parking lot. A hot day in LA. Long hours. Long takes. Just another day at the office? Well, better than that. Another day at the office, working for Garry Marshall, here in Hollywood. By the way, Happy Valentine’s Day.

Denny Dormody is a Los Angeles Times Magazine published comedy writer and author of Riding the Hollywood Glacier. dennydormody@gmail.com

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