Back in December, I auditioned for a couple parts in the screwball comedy called Beerfest. I got a callback but alas no part. When I filled out information for the movie, I checked the box asking if I was willing to be an extra. Sure enough, they needed mourners for some funeral and wake scenes and called me up. They offered three days of work, and I accepted.

Beerfest is from the same guys who made Super Troopers. I haven't seen that movie, but apparently the low brow cop jokefest has a cult following and made enough money to merit another silly stupid comedy. I peeked at parts of the script, and sure enough, lots of sex jokes, farts jokes, belch jokes, cuss words, & drinking. This one's not headed for Oscar Nominations, but it is a full blown movie with millions funded by Adobe Pictures. Let's face it, everyone wants to be in the movies.

Playing the background role of mourner, they instructed me to bring three changes of clothing fit for a funeral and meet at base camp at 1 p.m. on Thursday. I arrived, filled out the paperwork, and got the thumbs up on my clothes from wardrobe. They bussed 60-80 of us to a nearby church, where we ate a catered breakfast. We then sat in the basement of the church until we were needed.

There we sat & sat until the movie needed us and filed into the sanctuary. In the film, an old German guy had died, and we were all sad. Fortunately, they placed me next to some pretty girls, and we sat & sat & sat. Shots took fifteen to twenty minutes to set up. The assistant director named Artist (I'm not kidding) told us when to cry. We weeped, teared up, and mourned on cue. We were called background, and that's what we felt like.

And we sat & sat. At one point, I turned to the lady next to me and asked to look at her black feathered hat. I casually put it on my head and wore it for the next half hour. Being one of 80, it's hard to notice such things, and since the cameras weren't on us, it was just a subtle way to be loud.

Then dinner. If there is one perk to being an extra, you do get fed. We ate and went back to the basement. We waited & waited & waited. Minutes turned to hours. The basement had no heat, and after the sun went down, it got chilly. More hours, more cold. The extras chatted, but the later it got, the less I had to say & the less I wanted to listen. Ten o'clock, eleven, midnight, one. So cold, so tired. The crew constantly told us to be quiet. It was a mantra. Picture up! Quiet please! Rolling! Cut! Picture up! Quiet please! Rolling! Cut! At three in the morning, the extra were wrapped. 14 hours, mostly sitting. I was stiff, cold, and sleepy. So this is the movies.

2 p.m. call on Friday. Only 20 mourners were needed, and I felt battle tested. Ready for any amount of time on the set, any amount of boredom. Pace yourself. Count on twelve hours of waiting. They called a handful of us to stand around while they did a coffin gag. Basically, the widow slaps the dead guys' friends, and one of them grabs the coffin which collapses. The body falls out. It's a pretty funny & involved sight gag. The stunt man apparently was the guy who choreographed all the Matrix stunts. Not sure if they needed such a pro, but the big lean man had a profound presence. They turned out not to need the extras, but I must admit, it's much more fun to be background sitting on the set than in the holding area. Time passes much quicker.

The movie wrapped at the church and moved base camp to the N.M. Fairgrounds. We waited & waited inside a warehouse. The definite plus was that the place was heated. One guy cranked the heat up & we sat toasty warm for a few hours. Eventually, they bussed us to a nearby house where a wake was taking place. I got to stand in the hallway, chatting silently with a sexy blonde woman while Cloris Leachman made her big appearance in the scene. We pantomimed our speech for a few takes, hugging and consoling other extras who walked past us. It was the most fun I had in all three days.

Then we sat in the garage of the house, but they had propane heaters! I enjoyed being one of 20 much more than one of 80. I felt almost needed. Picture up! Quiet please! Rolling! Cut! As a bit of comical beauty, the sexiest girl (who wore a revealing black dress) stood too close to the heaters and burned a hole in the back of her dress. Every man came to her rescue, and she had an entourage for the rest of the shoot. The rest of us made jokes. That girl was just too hot for her own good.

Midnight arrived, and the extras were wrapped. Only ten hours! It was almost too easy, and I had the whole weekend to recover.

Day #3 on Monday, and the call was at 7 a.m. Same 20 extras, same clothes, same scene. To the fairgrounds, to the warehouse for breakfast, to the house for the shoot, to the garage to wait. We were getting to be old pros at being the herd.

The highlight came early. The extras were mourning in the living room, and we had to exit the scene. They put me at the front right edge of the scene. I had to act like I was talking to someone when really I was speaking to the wall. That's movie magic! As I exited the scene, I got to embrace the widow played by Blanchett Ryan. I didn't know who she was, but apparently, she was the lead in Open Water. She was a stunning blonde with sexy piercing eyes, but her mouth was her true talent. I think she could emote anything instantly with her mouth. A real pro. As I exited the scene, we embraced, cheek kissed, and gave each other consoling looks. Always nice to touch the actresses.

We sat around in the garage for most of the rest of the day. The propane tanks had to be replaced because we used them so much. It wasn't a cold day, but it wasn't warm either. We ate lunch and went back to the garage. We waited & waited & waited. At seven that night, they wrapped the mourners. We were hardly used but worked for twelve hours. As a simple twist, I had rehearsal for a play that night, and I can't tell you how good it felt to say actually say some lines. Given the choice, I'll take a theatrical role with lines over extra work any day.

Here's the deal though. Extra work maybe the lowest form of movie acting, but it's still acting, it's still the movies & it's still a job. The movie paid extras $7.50 an hour for the first 8 hours, and time & a half after that. They fed us, herded us around, & told us to be quiet more times than I can count. I made about $250 for three days of extra work. That's $250 more than my best role ever in the theatre. Ah, the irony.

Who knows if any of the shots I'm in will make the movie? Who knows if this screwball comedy called Beerfest will even by funny? Who knows when the next movie shot in Albuquerque will let me to be a part of it? The answer to all of it is Who Cares!?! Actors are whores, and selling out & degrading yourself comes with the territory. If the opportunity arises, I'll probably do it. Let's face it, I'm like everyone else. I want to be in the movies.

Chris Jungle is available to mourn at any funeral you have coming up.