In Los Angeles, even the most boujee of businesses will take the money to turn their shop/restaurant into a filming location. Even my current hell hole made a nice chunk of change by allowing an episode of "Curb Your Enthusiasm" to be filmed during business hours.
But because L.A. is a city of dreamers on a dime, budgetarily restricted filmmakers find creative ways to use actual locations without having to pay. It's a finable offense, and rarely successful, but try telling that to a community college film student with a passion project and an iPhone.
Earlier this week, a few film geeks plopped down in my section. Though they lacked the mounds of equipment that normally identify a film crew, their collective body odor and niche jargon clued me into their craft. I could also tell that two among them were actors, all dolled-up, made-up, and ready for the camera.
"Yeah, we'll be shooting some scenes for a project during our, uh, meal," the socially awkward director told me. He looked about 24 and had the social charms of someone ten years younger than that .
"I don't see a camera?" I inquired.
"We're using my iPhone," the director said.
"Do you have permission from management?" I asked.
"Uhhhhh," he stammered. "It's literally just two lines while someone's on a date."
"Wow, sounds like Citizen Kane," I replied. "Still, you need to check with management."
To my surprise, our manager agreed to let them shoot, but only because they promised her they'd spend at least $100 during an otherwise slow lunch shift. She also wanted one of the film geeks to rewind her tape, if you catch my drift.
I eventually returned to the table, where the director greeted me with a smug smile.
"We'll need food," he told me, handing me a stack of menus.
"Good thing you're in a restaurant," I said. "What would you like?"
The director turned his phone towards his actors, who both ordered entrees and wine, but "in character."
"We're going to film you dropping off the food," the director informed me.
"Actually you're not," I replied.
The "two line" promise was just a lie. For the next hour, the cast and crew repeatedly filmed the ordering and delivery of the entrees. They'd ask the people at the tables next to them to keep it down, and not politely. Finally, I told our horny manager that she'd have to make different schtooping arrangements, as the cinematic scholars were starting to piss off other guests, not to mention their already testy server.
Reluctantly, she told them it was time to wrap production on "Shitty Student Film" and call it a day. The two entrees the actors kept pretending to eat, as well as the two glasses of wine, brought their total to a whopping $48, not quite the $100 tab promised. They paid $48 in cash exactly. No tip.
The director accidentally left his earbuds, which I proceeded to smash in the back with a meat tenderizer after I downed the two glasses of wine.
bastards! may all of them be failures in life and live in mommy's basement forever.
Posted by: anne marie | February 09, 2019 at 08:26 AM