Just a face in the 'Ocean's 11' crowd

Extras spent the day waiting, watching for stars. The payoff? Seeing Brad Pitt and Carl Reiner work and maybe grabbing a little screen time.

By STEVE PERSALL

© St. Petersburg Times, published February 25, 2001

ST. PETERSBURG -- Two days of Ocean's 11 production at Derby Lane this week were nearly complete before filmmaker Steven Soderbergh finally discovered a background extra disobeying his direction.

Final set-up of the day: the finish-line action of a greyhound race arranged solely for the cameras, without wagering. Matinee gamblers were gone, leaving Soderbergh's crew and nearly 600 locally hired extras as the only audience.

The story: An aging criminal named Saul Bloom, played by Carl Reiner, meets a former accomplice (Brad Pitt) at the track. Saul is down and out, lured into a daring robbery of Las Vegas casinos. His desperation shows in yet another losing parimutuel ticket, a bad-luck bet on the No. 4 dog.

But nobody imagined that Black Fury, purposely matched against swifter dogs, wouldn't lose.

Coming around the backstretch, Black Fury was still running in the money. Good for Saul, bad for Soderbergh, if No. 4 finished in the top 3 and the race had to be reshot.

But, Black Fury's burst of energy fizzled, and he ultimately was the perfect movie extra -- inconspicuous.

Which was precisely the job of the humans who worked as Ocean's 11 extras.

For 11 hours on Wednesday, hundreds of bit players waited -- mostly patiently -- for the slim chance they might briefly share the silver screen with Pitt or Reiner. The gig paid $75 for the day (plus an hour's overtime) and called for cheering races that weren't actually being run or walking in camera view on paths choreographed to look authentic.

It's an odd job, alternately tedious and thrilling. You can wait hours to see Brad Pitt, then get stuck hanging around so long that he becomes just another face. You can get a perfect position to be seen on screen, then be whisked away at the last minute.

At least, that's what happened to me.

Ocean's 11 filmed at Derby Lane under closed-set conditions, meaning no media allowed. No reporters or photographers. Not even extras were allowed to capture Kodak moments.

But, nobody said I couldn't get hired as an extra.

My photograph was entered in a recent open casting call, like those of nearly 6,000 other people who applied at Pinellas Parkside Mall. The casting director knew my occupation, so I was mildly surprised when a hiring call came from Los Angeles last weekend.

For the record: My wages earned on the set will be donated the the Film Foundation of Tampa Bay scholarship fund for film students. Maybe I put one starving artist out of work for a day, but it may help another into a career.

Here's a diary of how my day went:

6:25 a.m.: Arrive at Derby Lane with three sets of clothing as the casting agency asked. Good thing, since my Tampa Bay Buccaneers tropical shirt didn't impress the wardrobe guy. Too much black.

He preferred a tan shirt and matching khakis. He liked my tan straw cap, though. And if I get on screen, I'll be able to pick myself out. Leading to rule No. 1 for being a movie extra: Bring a distinctive hat that you can quickly spot on screen.

7:10 a.m.: After we fill out payment forms and have breakfast, a second-second assistant director -- I'm not making up that title -- gives us a brief rundown. I move closer to hear him and learn the next three rules of being a movie extra: Location, location, location.

A call goes out for 50 extras to go downstairs to the betting windows. I'm near the door and make the cut.

I, Robert Bayne, 66, of Brandon and Leo Legault, 70, of Palm Harbor are instructed to stand in one spot and debate a racing form. Nice guys to pass time with.

Best spot for extras: the sixth betting window. At the fifth will be Reiner placing his bet on No. 4. The camera angle ensures they'll be filmed up close. Lucky dogs.

8:15 a.m.: Soderbergh starts the cameras rolling. Reiner's 50 feet away, but the camera pans as he leaves to take a seat on the benches outside near the finish line. Maybe we'll make the final print.

8:47 a.m.: After five takes, this scene is in the can.

9:12 a.m.: Brad Pitt isn't very big, is he? Friendly, though. The actor appeared from nowhere without any fanfare, standing at the top of the ramp leading from the betting area. Robert, Leo and I move a few feet to a railing to see him.

The camera is now pointed our way with Pitt in between. Another second-second assistant director tells us to pantomime watching the end of a race. Don't look at Brad. We don't, but we do lean over the rail a bit more than normal to improve chances of being in the frame. Four takes and we're done.

10:30 a.m.: Pitt and Reiner are filming a discussion on the benches. Extras mill about in response to commands for "background action," and do it exactly the same way when told to "reset."

The day's best accident occurs on the fifth take when Reiner gets up to leave with Pitt. A belt from his jacket gets caught in the bench slats, and he milks the moment like the old-school comic he is. Should be a hit on the blooper reel.

11:20 a.m.: The call goes out for extras to scatter throughout the upper-deck seats for an overall shot of the track from its first turn. For 20 minutes I'm told to walk up and down stairs, adding motion to a shot too distant to recognize myself.

12:05 p.m.: More location luck. The stairs I climbed are right behind the box seats where Pitt and Reiner will work. I grab the first row, judge the camera angle and set up my big scene. Life is good.

12:09: Life stinks. The second second-second assistant director says the front row is too crowded. Guess who gets sent to near the top of the bleachers?

1:12 p.m.: Lunch break. Extras gobble plastic-wrapped sandwiches. The clubhouse gets stuffy, but those of us stuck in this kennel can't leave without risking the loss of our job.

Smarter extras have playing cards and crossword puzzles. But for most of us, it's like being snowbound at an airport.

4:26 p.m.: The stars' work completed, Pitt stands and excites the extras with a Rocky-style pose. Big round of applause. Reiner stands to leave, hears his name cheered and doffs his fishing hat. Bigger round of applause.

5:15 p.m.: Black Fury does his job right and loses. Everybody looks to Soderbergh sitting in the box seats. The director smiles and shakes his head, seeming to signal that there's nothing more to do that day. It's a wrap. The extras can leave.

5:32 p.m.: Not quite, though. We still need to sign payroll vouchers and return clothing we've borrowed. It's a slow process, and patience wears thin. It's a relief knowing Soderbergh won't need us back on Thursday. Who wants to be a star, anyway?

© St. Petersburg Times. All rights reserved.