The Shoot

So there I was. Sitting on a solid oak bench in a courtroom on a movie set. Eight or ten hours. Contemplating my next purchase ‐‐ Preparation H. Robert Downey, Jr. sat in the chair typically occupied by defense counsel. He was dressed in jeans and a gray tee shirt. That seemed odd to me as this was not the costume of an attorney in court. The remainder of the seats (defendant, opposing counsel, judge, court clerk, etc.) were occupied by people I didn't recognize. All except Downey, Jr. had signs on their chests that said "defendant" or "opposing counsel," etc. Also odd, I thought to myself. Then I realized what they were doing. They were body doubles for the actors so that lighting and camera positions could be set without having to make the talent sit around. After a flurry of activity the director shouted "first team!" The body doubles got up and left, including Downey, Jr.

 

The talent began to turn up. The judge and defendant were both character actors whom I had seen before but could not name. David Krumholtz, who was playing opposing counsel, strolled in still looking like the math geek on "Numbers" albeit with some extra weight. Then Robert Downey, Jr. walked in wearing a dark blue suit and tie. Did he learn about lightning fast costume changes on the set of "Ironman?" Something about him, other than his costume, was different. He was a little thinner than he had been 5 minutes earlier. I pointed this out to the woman sitting next to me and she giggled. "The other guy was a double," she said as if I were the biggest idiot she'd ever met. Wow. That guy was a dead ringer for Downey, Jr. I began to wonder how many people have thought they met Robert Downey, Jr. but had actually met the double. Clearly I would have been fooled. The AD gave us our instructions: look like you're interested in the trial. Based on my month of birth I was assigned the task of murmuring to the person sitting next to me, who thought I was an idiot. Now I had to think of witty things to say to her under my breath.

 

WARNING! Tense change. Reader discretion advised.)

 

The scenario is as follows: Downey, Jr. plays a hotshot Chicago lawyer known for his courtroom antics while defending the rich and famous. During a trial he receives a voicemail message informing him that his mother has died. He asks to be replaced as defense counsel. Krumholtz protests claiming it's a trick to garner sympathy and attention. Downey, Jr. lets the judge listen to the message and is excused. He then makes a dramatic exit from the courtroom walking by me and my giggly friend. A 60 second scene, if that. Eight to ten hours of shooting. The Director yells "action," the scene kicks off with Krumholtz making a statement to the court regarding some legal concept. Downy. Jr.'s cell phone rings, he ignores it. As Krumholtz's statement gets more tedious, Downey, Jr. covertly checks his voicemail. He looks alarmed. What's going on? The gallery watches curiously. Murmuring ensues. I lean over to my new friend (can't remember her name) with my left hand strategically placed over my mouth to hide what I'm saying: "Murmer, murmer, murmer." She nods, considering my analysis and responds: Murmer?" Maybe I'm not the only idiot. The judge orders counsel to approach the bench. They argue in hushed voices. The judge has the cell phone, he's listening to the VM. He excuses Downey, Jr., Krumholtz has a hissy fit. Suddenly it occurrs to me. Downey, Jr. is leaving the courtroom via the very aisle on which I am sitting. The camera follows him. We're murmuring ‐‐ what's this a‐hole up to now? He walks by us and out the door. Our heads turn to follow him. The Director yells cut. Downey, Jr. spins, comes back in and says in a very loud voice "That's the one." "Nope" says the Director. "Should use that one," responds Downey, Jr. Everyone laughs. We do the scene dozens of times. Every time, Downey, Jr. comes back in and says something amusing including: "Best background work ever." He must have heard me murmuring. This went on for hours. At one point Downey, Jr. addresses the extras in my row. "Excellent job," he tells us. He high fives everyone down the row.

(WARNING! Returning to previous tense.)

Until that moment not a single star on any set had even acknowledged that the extras existed. Maybe my opinion of him was premature. Later that day Downey, Jr. stood up got everyone's attention. We stopped murmuring and waited for him to speak. I was sure he had noticed my work. He'd heard the best murmuring ever and was calling me out for a greater role. I really like Robert Downey, Jr. Great actor. Great guy.

Apparently he was saving my discovery for another movie. Instead he announced the Director of Photography (Janusz Kaminski, who was also Dir. Of Photography on Lincoln, Warhorse, Saving Private Ryan, Schinlder's List and many others) was celebrating his birthday. Production assistants burst through the door with a large cake. Everyone sang and clapped. While on the set Kaminski wore a brightly colored scarf around his neck and made everyone laugh with his over‐the‐top style. He began to dance around. Downey, Jr. stepped in and danced with him, pulling the scarf off and wrapping it around his own neck. It was almost worth taking a picture and being expelled for life plus a thousand years.  Almost, but not quite.