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Part 11

I slipped my cufflinks through their holes in my sleeves, strapped on my cummerbund, and shrugged into my tuxedo jacket. A quick check in the mirror, and I was ready. I went outside to smoke a cigarette and watch the day’s last light fade behind the hills. Above me, the “Hotel Splendide” sign was already lit, and across the park, the casino was just visible through the trees. The scarlet carpet cascaded down the steps, turning to the color of blood in the deepening gloom. The broken clouds brushed the tops of the trees along the skyline, and were reflected in the pools of rainwater they’d so recently released.

For the thousandth time I thought about the series of decisions that had culminated in my standing here in a Czech resort town, waiting for a chance to be in a James Bond movie.

Deciding four years before to quit my job and follow my impulses, traveling and seeing the world.

Deciding to teach in China first, instead of Europe. And then a year later, tired of China, looking at a map of the continent and choosing Prague as a destination, because it was smack in the middle of Central Europe, and seemed close to everything.

Deciding to take the job in Sokolov, which turned out to be 30 kilometers from the town where they’d shoot scenes for Casino Royale 7 months later.

Deciding to stay on in the Czech Republic instead of coming home the previous January as I’d planned.

Deciding I had nothing to lose by auditioning to be an extra, and then changing my ticket home when I was accepted.

A string of separate, discrete decisions that taken together, ended with me looking up at the night sky, six thousand miles from the deserts of Arizona. Why here? Why now? Why me?

I shrugged and smiled to myself. On the other hand, why not?

It began to rain again, and I went back inside.

When Jiri came an hour later to ask us to come to the casino, it was still raining, coming down in sheets. We gathered in the foyer of the ballroom as a crewmember shuttled us in a van the two hundred yards to the casino. Of course we could have walked, but between the women’s’ silk gowns and the men’s’ tuxedos, we’d have been a bedraggled-looking group of high rollers for the filming!

Safely inside the casino, we were instructed to wait while another shot was setup, this time outside and showing Daniel leaving the casino. Since I wasn’t needed for this scene, during the breaks between set-ups and shots, I would occasionally go out on the small verandah in the front of the building, out of camera range, and have a smoke with the other nicotine fiends. During one of these breaks I found myself standing next to Jeffrey Wright. He wasn’t smoking, but was just relaxing and enjoying the night air during a break in the seemingly endless rain showers.

I struck up a conversation with him, asking how he liked the Czech Republic (a lot), where he was from (Washington D.C.), and what he thought of the film (very impressed, happy to be involved!) I’d seen him on a bike earlier in the shoot, so I asked him if he rode much.

“Not seriously. I went for a ride the other day, and the hills almost killed me!”
“I hear you,” I said. “Let me give you some advice—if a Czech asks you to go on a ride—or a hike, or anything involving exercise—with them, say no. Everybody here is in such incredible shape, you’ll be lucky to escape with a mild heart attack.” He laughed, and we chatted a bit more, then he was called away.

It’s true about the Czechs—I’d had several friends or students in their late fifties or early sixties, and invariably when I asked what they’d done the previous weekend, they’d tell me gone cross-country skiing for 30-kilometers, or bicycle riding for 60 kilometers, or taken a 20-kilometer hike in the mountains nearby. And understand—this was nothing unusual. They’d say it off-handedly, without a hint of braggadocio. The conversations always went like this:

“What’d you do this weekend?” I’d say.
“I went cross-country skiing.”
“Oh yeah? How far.”
“Not far. Maybe thirty or forty kilometers…”
I’d shake my head, take another sip of beer and light a cigarette.

It didn’t take long for Daniel’s solo scenes to be finished, and, and soon all of the extras were called and brought back to our places from the night before. I was at the baccarat table, Stan beside me. My card buddies were scattered about the room, winking at me and flashing the thumbs up. Daniel and Giancarlo were on the other side of the table chatting quietly, and Mads was behind me with his girlfriend and his three bodyguards. He was amusing himself by doing snazzy dance steps, executing nifty little spins. His dance training was fully evident—he was very graceful and moved well. Then the stacks of chips on our table caught his eyes, and he came over and picked one up to examine it. His eyes widened as he saw he’d picked up a $5,000 chip.

“Forget it,” I said. “I had the same idea.”
He looked up and smiled, and I explained where they’d come from. He nodded, then began to flip it like a coin, trying to spin and catch it backhanded before it hit the floor. I asked him the same thing I’d asked Daniel.

“Can you roll it across your knuckles?”
He laughed. “No, I’m afraid not. No matter how much I practiced, I always ended up with chips all over the floor.”

About then, Martin announced a rehearsal, so we all turned to our tasks. There was a moment of mild consternation as someone realized that the woman who’d been sitting to my left was not in her chair. A PA was dispatched to find her, and a moment later the walkie-talkies crackled.
“She’s on her way.”
She came in a moment later, flustered. She’d been in the restroom.

“Alright everyone, here we go… Background!”
The dealer began to slide cards out of the shoe and passed them to Stan, who was the “player.”
“Action!”

Mads and his entourage started out the door, and a moment later, Daniel hurried past Giancarlo and out the door after them.

“Cut!”

There were discussions, revisions, small movements suggested, analyzed, rejected or accepted.

“Why don’t I try this…”
“If Dan’s there too soon, I’ll run into him…”
“Let’s try it this way—you start when he reaches the edge of the table…”

It was about this time that Tom came back over to me. “Let’s have you doing something,” he said.
“Sure. What?”
“When Mads starts walking, you two—“he indicated Stan and I—“get up as though you’re tired of losing at this table, and want to find another one. As he goes past, cross behind him and walk toward the camera, and Daniel will pass right next to you on the way out. You keep coming until you’re past the camera. Okay?”

Tom was still finding ways to maximize my chances of being onscreen.

I stood up, pulled him aside and said quietly, “I know you’re going out of your way to help me here. I just want you to know how much it means to me, and how much I appreciate it.”

He gave me a quick pat on the back and a smile. “No worries, mate.”

I went back and sat next to Stan, who was looking at me with a puzzled look on his face. In bad Czech, I explained what we’d be doing and when. His face lit up and he nodded and laughed. He was just as excited as I was about a chance to see himself in the finished product…

I’ll digress here—in my brief time on the shoot, my Czech had improved more than the previous nine months combined. From my own experience I can attest to the fact that there’s nothing like “total immersion.” I mention this because after I finished explaining to Stan, I realized that I’d actually communicated what I’d wanted to, and he’d understood me easily. I felt ridiculously pleased with myself.

Time for another rehearsal. This time, Stan and I got up as Mads passed, and immediately walked into a traffic jam. The waitress, Daniel and Stan and I all arrived in the same place at the same time.

“This doesn’t seem right,” Daniel said dryly. Martin laughed and we moved back to our original spots.

The waitress got a new timing cue on when to begin, and Stan and I decided to get up as soon as Mads started to move, instead of waiting for him to pass. This time it went much better. There was another moment as we worked out on which side we’d pass the waitress, and on which side Daniel would pass us—and then we tried again.

A few more tweaks to the timing, and then Tom said, “You two are a little serious—try it lighter, you’re laughing, having a good time.”
“Hey,” I called back. “I just lost sixty grand on that table. I’m pissed off!”
Everyone laughed. (But of course we did it the way he’d asked).

Finally we were ready.
“Action!”

Mads and the waitress both started moving.
Stan and I got up.
Mads and his group went out.
Stan and I moved around the table, smiling and pantomiming animatedly.
The waitress passed by, carrying two glasses on a tray.
Daniel started moving.
Stan and I walked past Daniel, going in the opposite direction.
Daniel went out the door.

“Cut! Once more, please.”

This was great. I know I was just an extra, but dammit—this felt like acting! (It really felt like acting on about the third take, when Daniel and I banged each others’ shoulders as we cut it a little too close!)

Too soon, the shot was over, and the extras were relegated to the basement again while the next shot was set up.

When we returned, we did the same shot as before, this time with the camera on a Steadicam at a very low angle, following Daniel. With my luck, this will probably be the shot they use, and you’ll see me from the knees down!

During this time, one of the PAs (a funny guy I’ll call Petr) was joking around with Mads’ “bodyguards.” Petr was a crackup—he always seemed to be going a hundred miles an hour, whether he was joking around or off on an errand. This time he was shadowboxing and playfully shoving one of the bodyguards, as though he wanted to fight them. This is funnier than it sounds, because the bodyguards were both about six-three and weighed upwards of 250 pounds. Petr was maybe five-eight, and a hundred and fifty pounds soaking wet. After a few minutes of Petr’s harassment, the target of his attentions shrugged, grabbed him up by the collar of his shirt and the seat of his pants, and picked him completely off the floor, and walked out of the casino carrying him effortlessly. The entire crew and all the extras broke up as Petr, yelling in mock outrage, was gently tossed out on the landing by the burly enforcer, who hadn’t broken a sweat.

There was another guy around named Ade (you can see him in Podcast 9 on the official website). Universally popular among cast and crew, he was the cause of another funny moment when (unaware that we were filming) he came into the room at precisely the moment Daniel was walking out. Daniel stopped just short of slamming into him and said. “Oh! Hello, then…” Again, we all broke up.

By the time this shot was over, it was past midnight. We were again moved out of the casino, but because the set-up was to be a short one, we were asked to wait on the stairs instead of going back down to the basement. The wait turned out to be longer than they’d planned, so I stretched out for a quick nap…

We were back in the casino for the final shot of the evening (or morning, actually)—the same scene from yet another angle, and then Martin asked everyone to converse normally with each other, handle the chips, clink glasses, etc. so the sound man could record some background noise—ambient sound, they call it. Of course the first time we did it, everyone went overboard and it sounded like a hundred people had fallen over a cliff into a pile of poker chips. After a few more-subdued takes it was over.

Martin stood up, gestured for quiet, and made a short speech while an assistant translated into Czech.

“I’d like to thank all of you for all your hard work, and tell you all how much we’ve enjoyed shooting in the Czech Republic and enjoying your hospitality. Please give yourselves a round of applause!”

Everyone cheered and whistled, clapping madly, and then…

…it was over.

Hugs and handshakes were given and received, photos taken, and email addresses exchanged. I wanted to get a photo of myself and Daniel, but he was mobbed by others asking the same thing, so I sought out Tom and thanked him again for all he’d done for me. When I turned back around to ask Daniel for a photo, I was just in time to see him disappearing with Martin out the door. Ah, well. Maybe on the next film!

As I was leaving, Stan put a hand out and stopped me, then gestured to one of the Czech crew guys who spoke both Czech and English. Stan rattled off several sentences to him, and the crew guy nodded, then turned to me.

“He says that when he met you, he did not like you so much. But now he thinks you are a very good man, and is happy to be your friend.” I blinked, then laughed and put my hand on Stan’s shoulder. “Tell him I’m not laughing at him,” I told the crew guy. “I’m laughing because I feel exactly the same way.” The crew guy translated, and Stan laughed and wrapped me up in a rib-snapping bear hug.

He said something else, and our translator said, “He says that he hopes you will come back to the Czech Republic, and if you do, you must visit him.”

“Tell him he’s always welcome in Arizona,” I said.

Another handshake, and we joined the others leaving.

Downstairs, I ran into Pat. I asked him to take a photo of me.
“Can you make sure you get the casino logo in the shot?”
“Sure, mate.” He took two to make sure he’s gotten it. Here’s my favorite.

Back in the hotel, I changed out of my tuxedo for the last time, made sure I had everyone’s email address from the “Gangster Card Group,” and went upstairs to be paid. There was a long line, and it took about an hour, but finally I stood before the desk, presented my vouchers and my passport for identification, and received my pay (about three hundred dollars, after tax). I have to admit, it almost felt like stealing as I accepted the money.

Back downstairs to meet Honza, who’d been waiting patiently, and then we were out and walking to the car. I stopped for a moment and turned, looking at the hotel and casino bathed in the faint pink predawn light, burning the sight and the past days’ experiences into my memory.

Again, I reflected on the journey that had taken me to this spot at this time. I had come all the way from being a dazzled ten-year-old in a darkened theater in Phoenix to a five-star European casino in a former Warsaw Pact country.

If only for a short time, I had done the impossible. I had stepped through the movie screen and emerged on the other side, into the world of James Bond.

I turned back and walked with Honza to the car.

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