Back from a long production shoot, and the subsequent recovery of getting Very Little Sleep. Which, being my achilles heel, usually leads to much fogginess and maybe a splattering of existential angst.
Anyway. Even though I’m always explaining the unglamorous nature of production assistanting, people still seem to get the wrong idea. So I thought I’d take this little chance to clear things up a bit.
The incomplete list of non-glittery things I’ve done:
- Running to the airport morning, noon and night to scoop up our “Talent.” Being the girl holding the sign that reads “Mr. Person I’m Picking up”? Awkward.
- Driving through a blizzard complete with 60 mph gusting wind to pick up nonfat plain yogurt with which to make a tasty par-freaking-fait for his holiness, the Grand Poobah Director.
(Kidding, Sir. And I know that you know that I whip those treats up with love. Really.) - And don’t worry, I saved the best for last: Towing the port-a-potties. Plural, yes.
- Wait: Also? Towing those disgusting things through winding mountain roads only for the wind to whip them clear off my truck. And then radioing to the crew: “I just lost the port-a-pots. Again.” You really can’t imagine the teasing that ensues from this testosterone-centric crew.
Does it sound like I’m complaining? Really, there are so many things to love about this gig. So. Much. Fun. It’s just… Feeling dazzlingly sophisticated (or even simply clean) isn’t part of the deal.
Along with waking up well before 4 am (!) and running ragged for 18 hours, there’s also plenty of good stuff. Like:
- Watching the sun rise and set in some breathtakingly lovely locations.
- Hanging out with the producer, one of my all-time favorite people: A cross between the funniest guy you’ve ever met, the coolest boss you’ve ever had, and the dad/brother/husband you always wanted. In a way that sounds way less creepy.
- Bonding with the stylist and coordinator. As the complete female contingent on a crew of 40 — Epic conversations about work and life and love. And men.
- All the other juicy bits I’m not privy to talk about. Stupid confidentiality, grumble, grumble.
{ 3 comments… read them below or add one }
Ha ha!!! The only thing that would make your side gig cooler would be if the sign at the airport literally said, “Mr. Person I’m Picking up.” Don’t you just love how the other people are the “Talent,” when clearly the person with all the real talent is the one lugging port-a-potties up a winding road? If only they knew the truth about how glittery and glamorous you really are.
Oh that would make it sooo much cooler. I’m totally doing it next time, screw actually finding the guy.
And thanks for noting my talents, Dear. *Blush*
I totally understand you – having been a production assistant myself many moons ago (my “favorite” job: having to kick homeless people out of the San Francisco park in which they “lived” so we could get a shot that looked like the park was empty) and more recently being a “stage” mom. Which is really one of the more thankless jobs in the world – mainly because you don’t get paid and no one really wants you around but they have to let you be there. And you have to be the one that tells your kid that they aren’t really as special and wonderful and perfect as everyone on set says they are and no they cannot have an iPhone even if the other kid in the movie has one. (Thank goodness we don’t live in LA). Part of me would rather tow the port-a-potties. At least you feel like you’re being useful. On the other hand, I met all kinds of amazing and wonderful people and got to hang out in Portland, OR for three glorious months. And the red carpet premiere stuff was kind of glamorous