15 seconds of "fame"
My two days filming on "The Bear"
I don’t remember if “be on TV” was ever an explicit goal for me. I think I took it for granted as a component of other goals at various points in my life, like “be a working actor” or “appear on a late-night show.”
I’ve been on TV three times, but this summer I leveled up, from only playing homeless/undercover-as-homeless characters on Dick Wolf shows (“Chicago Med” and “Chicago P.D.,” respectively) to playing “Man” on the show of the summer, FX’s “The Bear.” The next level? Characters with first names.
If you had told me in high school, or right out of college, or at 30 right before going into a coma, that I’d get paid to act on a beloved TV show, I’d be stoked, but I’d have some assumptions that are different from the reality. Here are a few realities, and I hope by listing them I can satisfy some curiosity about how this shit works.
I’m not a working actor. I don’t know what I’d have guessed a gig like “Man” would pay, for two days on set, a costume fitting, and a couple COVID tests. Would have been insane if you asked me 10 years ago and I said, “What’s the compensation for the COVID tests?” But I can tell you, approximately.
I made around $3000 total, and I took home around $1800 after taxes and my agents’ 10%. That’s a little over half of what I need to pay for a month of food, rent, utilities, medical stuff, and buying an album or two. So far, I’ve booked a gig every 2-3 years. I’m not complaining, but it’s not a living.
I spent an hour on set for a 20-second scene. That looks like a huge ratio when I type it out, and maybe it is! But I’d have assumed “filming a scene” meant being on set basically the whole day, talking with the other actors and working closely with the director on the feel of the scene.
But my hour was spread across two days, and I spent most of it waiting while crew set up and hair & makeup did little touchups. The rest of those days I spent waiting in a closet-sized trailer, walking across the parking lot to the bathroom, walking back the long way to pick up coffee and sweets on my way back, and lining up for meals at the appointed times.
Again, I’m not complaining, and it’s funny how describing anything mundane can sound close to complaining. But the mundanity is a common absence from dreams, and I think it’s interesting to confront. I don’t go to acting for my creative fulfillment (that’s what this newsletter and the podcast and live shows, eventually again, are for), but I do consider it one of the best ways I’ve been able to earn a paycheck (voiceover gigs might beat acting for convenience). Its mundanities are the ones I prefer over any others.
SAG membership has been mostly symbolic. This was my third union job, which means to take it I had to join the actors’ union. The fee to join was around $1800, which if you’re keeping track means this job netted me nothing, but I was able to pay the fee in (hefty) installments, so like an aging inner tube the check still kept me partially afloat. That first installment was $700, which I only paid with your and others’ help, which still humbles me when I remember to let it in.
Joining SAG is a Moment in an actor’s life. It’s a chance to reflect on the all the work you’ve done to get to this point. Still requiring a great deal of luck and favor, it’s not as subjective and counter-to-the-spirit-of-the-art as an award. It is entry into the fellowship of working actors, whether you technically qualify or not. An arrival.
With so little money and without the amount of work under my belt this year to earn SAG health insurance, the Moment is a symbol. And it’s a symbol I’m grateful for. Symbols are quite valuable to me, especially in the tough times. But I wouldn’t have expected just how symbolic an achievement it would be at first.
I didn’t know the effect my character would have on the show. I say 2 lines in episode 6. In episode 7, one of the primary storylines is a reaction to my character. I didn’t know this until someone who was watching quicker than me told me. You don’t get a check for the episodes your character is mentioned but doesn’t appear on-screen, but I’m content with the slight possibility the mentions leave open for work on season 2.
My job was to be furniture. I’ve gotten maybe two dozen DMs about my appearance on “The Bear,” and many of them say some variation of “you were great!” To those I say, “Thank you,” but if it’s true, it’s not in any traditional sense.
When you’re on TV for 20 seconds—more importantly, on set for an hour across two days—your job is to be unobtrusive on set, to be pleasant and, if you have the chance, fun, so this huge machine of a production keeps running smoothly. I did that!
And one final time, I am not complaining or putting myself down at all. It’s just that not every acting job on TV requires much acting. I got a text from one buddy that said, “You looked great on camera dude. Sweet lil clip for the reel for sure,” and I consider it the best compliment I’ve gotten. My job was to be a couch, and I looked comfy as hell.
It’s been a genuine pleasure of this summer to be even a tiny part of a show so many people are watching and love. It’s just different than we dream it.
THIS IS MY PODCAST, THIS IS YOUR AFTERLIFE
Meredith Johnston records sad music as Warm Human, but I first met her in our improv comedy days and we always had great talks. She’s a great storyteller, charismatic, complex, and honest about the dark twists of her brain. It’s an intense AND entertaining episode, just like I like ‘em.
This is episode 98. 2 more left ‘til 100! If you listen, I’d love to hear your thoughts on the show: highlights, how it’s helped you if it’s helped you, or any stray thoughts from the last two years of me doing it. I’m thinking episode 101 might be a reflection from me on the first 100 episodes, and I’d love to not be the only voice on there.
Content warning: eating disorders, physical abuse, (drug/alcohol) addiction, Meredith likes Imagine Dragons, Cream Cheese Hot Dog.
DIVERSIONS
This is from 2020, but I discovered it this week. DO NOT CLICK THIS IF YOU DON’T WANT IT STUCK IN YOUR HEAD.
Podcasts: Andrew Garfield on WTF was tender and relatable. Cool People Who Did Cool Stuff is new to me, and this week’s episodes with the Mountain Goats’ John Darnielle on radical British history/theology were really thought-provoking (Part 1 & Part 2)!
I’m thinking of actually doing this for my birthday next weekend. Something about the widely separated trash receptacles feels spiritual.
A Jordan Peterson edit chaser.
MAY I PLAY YOU A SOUND?
Bartees Strange is an artist I’ve had on my “yet to crack” list for a while, and his music finally opened itself to me (or I opened myself to it?) this week. On the heels of him releasing his second album, I finally got into his debut, Live Forever.
The song on repeat is “Free Kelly Rowland,” and its genius is the way the sound of the music reflects the lyric in the chorus about being broke with “Versace dreams.” The lyrics are broke boy braggadocio, and the music is lo-fi swag.
“You’ll miss the wave, babe, yeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaahhh.”
Well, thank you, Sydney,
DM