Saving Face in Warrior

Nick Nolte not Joseph Tornatore in Warrior.

The official theatrical movie trailer has been released for the upcoming mixed martial arts movie entitled Warrior. Through Ryan Casting out of Atlantic City, I was hired to do some acting both as a background extra and as Nick Nolte's stand in. After trying to act ahead of a Academy Award nominee like Nolte, background acting seemed a more suitable fit. The trailer looks dramatically inviting. Whatever Nick Nolte does naturally in the movie, I didn't do nearly as good after multiple takes. That is why I keep the day job.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bwgG6OfW7Yo

A Sheen Getaway

I just returned from a fabulous two-night three-day getaway to Atlantic City, New Jersey. The greatest freedom about becoming single again is the punching of your own time clock. I used my time wisely until I was punch drunk and out of time.

I auditioned at Ryan Casting for a speaking part in a pilot TV show for True Crime network. I participated in Bally’s casino promotional filming for the grand opening of their ICandy burlesque lounge headlined by sultry Baywatch cast member Angelica Bridges. In between acting, my method was to overindulge in life.

On Thursday, I saw a mesmerizing Cirque du Soleil show at Boardwalk Hall. Chock full of unusual acts, the evening’s biggest surprise may have come when the establishment carded my company before serving her wine.

The following day, I got reacquainted with a woman my contemporary who I used to work with twenty years ago.

Like a glutton for more sensory stimulation, I basked in four hours of deep tissue massage, pushed my body through gym workouts and ate like a heavyweight at buffets. On Saturday, I got befriended wearing my bathing suit in an inhalation room then put on some good threads to see Trans-Siberian Orchestra play in Ceasar's Circus Maximus Theatre.

Duh, I heard the Charlie Sheen tour is off to a rough start. Well, I felt like two and a half men for a couple of days anyway.

Limited on Limitless

Entering its second week as the number one movie at the box office nationwide, the movie Limitless is garnering positive acclaim. Starring Robert Dinero and Bradley Cooper, I decided to patronage a motion picture I did menial work on as an actor. Sitting in the dark theatre, the polished coming attractions made me reflect on filming the actual movie Limitless.

On the closed set in downtown Philadelphia, I could not peel my eyes off Robert Dinero and Bradley Cooper for different reasons. Robert Dinero carried charismatic airs as if he had exacted the gristle of experience from every movie that he had ever acted in. Bradley Cooper is indubitably the most ridiculously handsome man I ever saw in person. While staring at his sickening Ken doll physique, he startled me by his approach. Cooper thereby asked me of my favorite South Philly pizzeria. I reacted sheepishly about being a New Jersey resident and that I did not leave my home state to scout for better mozzarella. Stupid is what stupid does. After Bradley Cooper wised up and lost interest in me, I was no more prepared when director Neil Burger(The Illusionist) instructed me to act like Robert Dinero was entering the restaurant on film. “Huh?” I questioned, “But he is Robert Dinero coming through the front door.” “No, act like you are in awe of Robert Dinero.” “I am in complete awe of Robert Dinero, Neil. He's one of the greatest actors of all time.” The director grew impatient with my inability to think abstractly outside the box. I was acting limited on Limitless. ”Bobby D’s character is one of the richest men on the planet. Pretend Dinero is Steve Forbes.”

Before the big hook could come for my neck stage left in favor of an understudy, I managed to convey complete understanding of the establishing tone of the scene to the director. In fact, my learning curve seemed momentarily as great as Bradley Cooper’s character speeding on the experimental drug NZT-48. I could have ordered Cooper a phenomenal takeout pizza to go just by glancing at a closed phonebook.

While the big screen showed the single scene I acted in, it became disappointingly apparent that the roll picked up after I had greeted Robert Dinero entering the upscale restaurant for his sit down meeting with Bradley Cooper. With fish-eye lens views and panoramic 360-degree digital effect spins the norm in this production, I felt pride to still have made the final cut and be seen, however fleetingly, in focus in the same frame as legendary actor Robert Dinero. Not too cheesy for an Italian non-union actor who only eats his pizza in Jersey.

Bringing Home the Bacon

One of my faithful blog readers, sent me this outlandish take on the Kevin Bacon Hollywood movie game. Joseph Tornatore is in the upcoming movie Warrior with actress Jennifer Morrison, who was in the movie called Stir of Echoes starring Kevin Bacon. There is nothing like self-depricating humor to stir echoes of persona non gratis.

Souper Man

This is a still frame of me from the Donovan McNabb Tug of War. I found it displayed prominently on radio host Mike Missenalli's Facebook page. Actors will do anything when the camera is rolling. The pool of minestrone soup tasted full-bodied!

Faces of The Sickness

Joseph Tornatore reflects off camera after the carnage.

What is to be said for a dreary morning while on your last day of vacation? While the weather was a real downer, looking at myself in the bathroom mirror motivated my return to bed. I just couldn’t stand the ugly pimple rearing its greasy head on my face nor the twin teabags which seemed to hang under my raging bloodshot eyes. For heaven's sakes, my thoughts were that I looked like a hellboy made up for a horror movie.

About two hours of useless beauty sleep later, my cell phone rang. I received an urgent telephone call from the director of The Sickness. Although I had submitted my resume for this independent film about six months prior, I had not even been called in for an audition. The director sounded busy, his words short to the point. He inquired about my immediate availability. Although I was thinking ahead to my weekend plans, I wound up on location a stone’s throw from Delaware in little over an hour.

Let the record show that on the day I looked like I could scare Halloween, I was actually cast in a horror movie. The director greeted me by my car. As he explained the featured role I would be playing, I followed him past a creepy dilapidated barnyard with a silo. I heard human noises coming from the greenhouse where we were headed. Inside the greenhouse, I was introduced to the bloodied cast and crew, many of whom looked ragtag enough to have come from the set of The Crazies.

As stray cats jumped out of nowhere onto the gardening tables, the makeup girl added a white powder puff foundation to my beaten face. She then applied four latex open sores. After discussing cinematic realism, it was mutually agreed upon to leave my pimple alone. A network of blue veins got penciled on my long forehead. Faux membrane and dripping blood made me look like a walking epidemic.

As the last actor to arrive on set, I actually completed my scene before signing an appearance release. I performed a very violent act with minimal rehearsal. My face, body, and clothes were a bloodbath of membranes by the time I finished my carnage on the helpless victim.

This role represented the first time I had killed someone on camera. After the first take was over, I didn't know what to make of myself. I stumbled for feeling. I likened my acting to a seizure, a momentary lapse of reason, temporary insanity. The director complimented me on my burst of caged rage. Sometimes when you wake up looking the part, it is just a matter of following through with bloody action.

Impersonating A Rapist

The presence of slow rolling police cars cruising up and down the block did not deter me from committing the violent crime. My homie and I had a dirty job to do down a dark alley.

Playing a rapist in an independent short film called Minikin Capital Nights, the scariest part about this role may be that I fell into the seedy character of Paul quite easily. This successful crossover to the dark side bothered my psyche. As the high definition film captured a dimly lit street corner, I blocked a woman's egress along the sidewalk. I began harrassing her. I was surprised by the vulgarity of my words, my crotchety obscene gestures and the hateful tone in my voice. Then there was the prejudice the scene carried against an Asian race that had done me no harm in my lifetime. After a realistic take, I snapped out of character and ushered apology to the beautiful lead actress who I had just wronged on camera.

After four years of acting, this speaking part produced my personal favorite lines that I said in a movie, words that originated from my improvisation. Before my sidekick and I perpetrated a rape down a dark alley, I barked a derogative scenario to my intended victim, “How about two servings of white on rice?”

Cut. The director complimented me on my powerfully explicit ad lib then embraced it enough to write it into the script. I’m getting scared I thought to myself. I wanted to go home now. I became wary of the very character I played. I was Paul and appauled. This was definitely not me but then again that was the point.

Out of My Gourd...Smashing Pumpkins

A total of seven handpicked actors and models gathered on hallowed ground along the Delaware/Maryland border at a ground zero site called The Chunk for an unusual photo shoot. Hired by the Discovery Channel to work as a model for a print ad campaign, this was unlike any entertainment gig I had done before.

The models were a crosssection stereotype of rare breeds who gather every year the weekend after Halloween to hurl…pumpkins. Hurlers launch pumpkins from contraptions like slingshots, catapults, and cannons not just for shits and giggles but for notoriety in the form of trophies and charted world records. Last year, seventy five thousand spectators attended these outrageous pumpkin shooting world championships. From the little taste of pumpkin that I got, hurlers seem to be a mixed bag of diehard competitors, nuts and bolts engineers and pseudo athlete.

I entered the scene to promote the benchmark silver anniversary of the celebrated event. Television crews will be filming the live event called Punkin Chunkin then slicing it up to be aired on television. While everyone’s pumpkin pie is trying to digest Thanksgiving night, pumpkin hurling can be seen at 9pm on the Science Channel. For anyone who thinks Smashing Pumpkins is just an alternative rock band or something to do on Mischief Night, think again. Since Punkin Chunkin scored the Science Channel’s highest rated episode in 2009, they have seeded a plan to promote the pumpkin gut out of this year’s event. Thanks to the laws of gravity, it’s guaranteed to be a smashing success.

After surviving this shoot, I have utmost respect for any model showing wares from runway to pumpkin patch. The wardrobe department changed and propped the models out to the fabric maximum with accessories like horned pumpkin helmets, hardhats, sledgehammer, binoculars, rebel flags and those giant foam fingers you hate to sit behind at sporting events. We are wearing fling not bling. We posed for hundreds of individual and group photos…flashbulb popping pictures with your body positioned in awkward poses while holding props and manufactured faces that had to seem as natural as a second skin.

As compressed air from a decorated cannon launches pumpkins across the grey sky behind my frozen pose on hay bales, the deafening wind wooshes serve as an uncanny backdrop to the photo shoot. Invisible to the naked eye, participants follow the pumpkin’s trajectory with field binoculars across a beaten field that appears to be setup more like a medieval battlefield. Not a closed set in the least, the practitioners hooting and hollering sounds genuinely contagious. Crew members strategically throw smoke bombs behind me to create ethereal photos. A famous pumpkin hurler named Fat Jimmy is next to me scratching his ZZ top beard like a caricature of himself. Huge flashbulbs pop again in my ears and eyes. When I blink, my mind’s eye catches a glimpse of the action like an out of body experience. I think to myself that I must be out of my gourd even though I am right where I want to be…in the thicket of things.

The rumors on the set place this campaign ad on roadside billboards and in magazines such as Rolling Stone and ESPN. I temper my premature excitement on the set. To not get a big head, I may have to keep it stuffed inside a pumpkin helmet right through the Thanksgiving holiday.

Donovan McNabb Tug of War

97.5 The Fanatic Radio station has produced a You Tube video featuring the Donovan McNabb Tug of War event that I participated in.. I am the front man on the losing side wearing the white du-rag. I am indubiously shown as the first person to drink minestrone soup in this public spectacle. Let me tell you, the soup tasted full-bodied.

There is a wild rumor stirring that the Anti-Mcnabb team placed a ringer, a gym rat powerlifter, inside the Swoop mascot suit to ensure victory. No regrets, here because I own a gym membership myself. After the painful loss, checkout my huge bellyflop(second one to flop after the event was decided.

The Beaten Path to a Soup Bowl

Joseph Tornatore showering following his appearance on the radio.

My life rarely follows the beaten path. Barely towel dried from my freefall into a pool of green paint in the new Philadelphia Eagles 25/8 commercial, today’s path turned bath wrinkled with a number five. Things I would never expect to find on myself while showering formerly include tempura paint but now I have to add vegetables to the mix. Following a dark recess discovery, I never thought I would ask myself in the shower, “I didn’t know minestrone soup contained lima beans?”

Let me explain. Producers from 97.5 FM and 950AM radio contacted me to participate in a publicity stunt to promote this weekend’s anticipated divisional showdown between the Philadelphia Eagles and the Washington Redskins. For my non-sports fan readers, this nationally televised game features the return of former Eagles quarterback Donovan McNabb. The Eagles traded McNabb away after a string of hugely successful regular seasons paired with numerous “always the bridesmaid” painful playoff losses.

A polarizing figure in Philadelphia sports, the publicity stunt involved a tug of war matchup between a team of pro Donovan McNabb supporters and a team of his haters. The losers of the tug of war got dragged into an unforgiving pool of Chunky minestrone soup. It was a heated decision ultimately picking sides but I chose to be a McNabb supporter. While a cogent sports argument might have persuaded me into changing sides, a great debater could never stir my interest into liking McNabb’s longtime familiar sponsor, Chunky soup.

The tug of war broadcasted live on the radio for those deaf of ear who did not hear my name announced. ABC TV covered the event for their 11'0'clock news broadcast. Fox TV film crews were also on hand filming the event as a lead in to their telecast of the game itself. The tug of war proved to be a titan stalemate for gulp....only the first thirty seconds. As my team’s front man, the taught rope often lifted my heels off the ground. I quickly lost footing for our team when I pulled a nerdy calf muscle in my left leg. Momentum swung and the rope continued to pull me forward. Analogous to a McNabb season ending post game interview, I was walking a tight rope. A glacier of a man the size of an NFL lineman, our anchorman slipped causing the rope to become real short next to the pool of soup. My muscles burned with pain and my body contorted trying to avoid the pool. It felt like former running back Ricky Williams was a ringer pulling on the other side. Not even Donovan’s protective parents could save me from the drink now. Testing the waters seemed to be my destiny.

I fell headfirst into a three foot deep pool of minestrone soup. As I came up out of the soup, the raucous crowd went stir crazy. I estimated that I had swallowed enough soup to rob a Philadelphia homeless person of their next meal. There was no soup kitchen to send this soup back to and its smelly ingredients clung to my clothes. After the winning team celebrated their feat of strength fueled by turncoat quarterback animosity, I ran down the tarmac of padding and did a picturesque belly flop for the rolling cameras. I came up out of the drink spitting out cold soup. Despite my support for arguably the best quarterback in Eagles franchise history, in the end I came up short. The beaten path felt all too familiar. My dream of winning a Super Bowl as a superfan had become a lousy soup bowl. Donovan McNabb had left a bad taste in my mouth yet again.

Meeting Ray the Rant

When two producers from the cable television show Fandemonium emailed me, I had never heard of either of them let alone their new show. It seemed like good business sense for me to search the Internet and perform a background check. I researched the name of each producer but came up empty handed for Mr. Ray the Rant. How could Ray the Rant be producing a cable television show without something, anything being on the information super highway?

Nevertheless, via email both producers related that they had viewed footage of me in the 25/8 Philadelphia Eagles commercial then tracked me down through my casting agency. Now they were soliciting my interest in doing a bigger segment of my being a Philadelphia Eagles fan for their new television show Fandemonium, which salutes diehard fans of the bleed green team.

Feeling foolish that I did not know who Ray the Rant was, I responded in kind by emailing both producers back expressing my interest to christen their show. I wound up submitting video and other media for the TV show to cover me as a lifelong fan in a future episode.

Fast forward three weeks. While sitting at a Philadelphia Eagles pre-season game, the giant Fanavision screen played a promotional trailer for this same TV show, Fandemonium. To my complete surprise, the trailer showed an animated scruffy ruffian who introduced himself as Ray the Rant. In humorous fashion, I learned that my email communication had not been with a living person but with an oddball cartoon character. Still viewing one dimensional Ray the Rant on the stadium’s big screen, I heard him exclaim, “Joe from Jersey we got your tape!”

The irony rings my ears and stings my eyes. It was bad enough that I had been regularly talking with a cartoon character through email. Now our relationship had accelerated to the point that he could be talking about me to 60,000 other people. The situation was getting out of hand. Over the next couple of days, I dealt with only the counterpart producer to sign releases to appear on upcoming episodes of this same TV show. I refused to copy Ray the Rant on any further email distribution to avoid becoming a laughing stock within the Philadelphia Eagles organization. Believing I had sent Ray the Rant back to the drawing board, I received another personal email from him. This time his bristled scruffy animated cartoon face was an unmistakable mugshot inside a thumbnail icon. His likeness accompanied a Facebook invitation for me to become his friend.

Social networking is a pervasive labyrinth so who I am to understand the matrix? Ray the Rant remains the only non-living friend I have befriended on Facebook.

Philadelphia Eagles 25/8 Commercial

Joseph Tornatore's Incredible Bulk impersonation in 25/8 commercial!

This is the first frame of my stunt scene in the new Philadelphia Eagles 25/8 commercial. It is currently airing on multiple channels to help promote the kickoff of the new National Football League season. I earned approximately five seconds of featured camera time in this thirty second commercial.

I hope this entertaining 25/8 commercial runs 24/7. When you are reduced to a pair of shorts for the world to see, you might as well get as much exposure as you can. This commercial captures the passion of Eagles fans perfectly. You can check it out on the Philadelphia Eagles website too. E-A-G-L-E-S Eagles!

Bigger Than Life for a Moment

Lincoln Financial Field

Sitting at the 35 yard line of the last preseason game between the Philadelphia Eagles and New York Jets, I crooked my neck at the bigger than life Phanavision screen. During a stoppage in play of the first quarter, the Eagles Television Network ran a teaser trailer to the commercial I did for the team.

I excitedly realized that beside my beady eyes, tens of thousands of fans in the stadium got a glimpse of me on the big screen.

What had just occurred in a flash was surreal moment #248 in my lifetime.

Fly Like an Eagle movie on You Tube

Here is the You Tube link to Fly Like an Eagle, A Bird's Eye View of Joseph Tornatore. It is the five minute segment I produced for the WPHL-17 television show, Fandemonium. The producers of this show, Chris Barletto and Ray the Rant, contacted me about submitting material to air on an upcoming episode following the commercial I shot for The Eagles Television Network.

It is common knowledge that I have difficulty doing anything small so here is my big production. Although it took me twenty hours to produce with tempermental movie making software in only four days, I believe the end product captures the essence of my eccentric personality. Mindful that no publicity is bad news, please forward to your friends and enemies. Enjoy!

The I in Team Fandemonium

The strangest thing happened while a friend and I browsed the Eagles Television Network website. Investigating for the presence of an uploaded link or any publicly released information to the commercial I filmed for the Philadelphia Eagles, I simultaneously received an email from the Eagles Television Network producers. Probability odds would place those two situations concurring at about a million to one.

Having viewed footage from the commercial shoot, the producers were one step ahead of my curiosity. While I was looking for me, they had painstakingly tracked me down though my casting agency. Confident the commercial had not aired yet and uncertain whether I made the final cut, I was solicited for my interest in doing a feature for a television show. Tune into the Fandemonium show, which will begin airing on Saturday nights on WPHL-17, to see if an actor can be typecast playing himself. Sometimes when chasing the tail of life, it wags behind you. Smile for the camera, little doggie.

The Incredible Bulk

I recently finished filming a promotional spot for the Eagles Television Network. Arriving at the set location prior to my call time, the cobblestone horseshoe drive of the private residence introduced a mansion. Exiting my car, I stepped in between a procession of crew members, cables and ladders. It struck me as rather curious not seeing another actor arriving to set.

Near the front door, I approached a pony tailed production assistant. I asked, “Where is everyone?”

“You’re the guy who will be diving into the pool of green paint, right?”

She described the feat as if it required the actions of a superhero. “Yeah, ugh, that’s what they told me.”

“Okay. We’re filming a wedding of lifelong Eagles fans now but you’re the only actor in the next scene. You don’t have a problem with that, do you?”

“Nah, the center of attention in a commercial about my favorite sports team, forget I mentioned it.”

About an hour and a half later, the assistant director introduced me to a lineup of people assigned to me. He explained, “You’re up. Tom here will valet your car to designated parking. Wilma handles wardrobe. Milly is in Makeup. Mack will shower you off in between takes. Peter and Debbie will change your clothes. If you need anything else other than what has been mentioned, Manny will get it for you so don’t be afraid to ask.”

I continued shaking hands and nodding agreeably. I don’t remember anyone’s name but my own. All I know is the only thing I have to do is act and everything else will be done for me. The AD instructed, “Head to wardrobe and makeup then you need to meet with Patrick, the stunt guy, before reporting to set.”

Wilma from Wardrobe replies, “This just in. The director wants you to go commando.”

“Humm…Do you mean like wearing Army fatigues instead of a bathing suit?”

She handed me cargo shorts, its price tag revealing its newness. “Neither. Change into these shorts. Commando style means no underwear. You need wardrobe change after every wet take. We only purchased so many matching shorts so might as well leave your underwear behind.”

I replied, “No problem. When casting telephoned me about my measurements, I wasn’t asked about underwear size.”

She continued, “How big is your head?”

“Excuse me?”

Wilma from wardrobe rifled though a dream catcher’s heap of licensed Philadelphia Eagles memorabilia in order to outfit me with the right cap. “You need a cap for this shot.”

“Oh, when asking an actor how big his head is, always assume extra large. That’s certainly the case here.”

She smiled then fittingly slapped a black logo cap on me. Milly from makeup ushered me over to her glitz station, where she powder puffed my nose and cheeks.

I asked, “Do you realize I’m going to be covered in green paint?”

“Then make the first take count, hot shot. Take off your shirt, let me checkout your skin tone.” After removing my shirt, I felt her eyes combing me. Her fingertips glided across my shoulders during inspection. “Nice even tan. Good.”

She summoned the stunt man on her headset, who proceeded to brief me on safety precautions for the stunt. As if one were not enough, two crew members escort me to set. Along the way, a stunning backyard boasted a huge stone patio; double wide outdoor fireplace, grilling station under a sizeable arbor and Jacuzzi to finally arrive on set in front of… an inflatable kiddy pool surrounded by empty gallon jugs of tempura green paint. I go wide-eyed because I was expecting an indoor swimming pool amidst the pomp and circumstance.

Before long, it was time to roll film. The cameraman climbed a circus ladder to the top of a huge A-frame support equipped with a camera mount tilted down. “Let’s get ready to roll. Get Joe up on the blocks. Let’s see what it looks like from up here.”

Crew members assisted me onto a platform made from stacked apple boxes. I sensed tenseness on the set, as if my comfort hinged on giving them a carefree look. I decided to break the ice.

“When I booked this gig, my agent assured me this pool would be heated.”

The entire crew busted out laughing. The cameraman maneuvers the camera to fully frame an aerial shot of me free falling backwards into a pool of green without a care in the world. On the first take, my body drifted beyond frame despite hitting the pool. I realized for the first time in my acting career, staring at the seamless blue sky means scrubbing your mark.

Emerging from the greenish hue, I thought to myself…So much for my powder treatment in makeup.

“Remember gang, the owner forbids him back in the house looking like that.

With my flesh oozing in green, the obvious reference point is the Incredible Hulk. However, when I am shown myself captured on the playback camera, the natural reference is The Incredible Hulk except that I resemble a balding overweight middle aged man covered in pond scum.

“I look like The Incredible Bulk.”

The director added, “It’s the shot we were looking for. You performed great. We just need to follow you fully in frame on the next take.”

Stepping away from the camera, the running garden hose hit my skin. Gasping at its coldness caused me to take in a mouthful of watered down paint. The hose washed green from me until clean. Two people toweled me off until I returned to unassuming David Banner.

Watching Wilma from Wardrobe carrying a clean pair of cargo pants, I realized the dilemma for the crew and myself.

A crew member inquired, “How modest are you?”

“I draw the line at nude modeling so I’m thinking about changing behind that juniper bush if that’s alright.”

And so let it be told that it was behind a prickly juniper bush, that I first stripped naked on a set. A girl held a bath towel up as a cotton barrier but anyone who wanted to see my full monty could.

The girl smirked then filled space in between silence. “Don’t worry about me looking at the little twig in your garden.”

Wrestling the slimy shorts off, I feigned exception. “What do you mean, little? I got shrinkage. I just got out of a cold pool and somebody hit me with a hose. My agent is going to hear about this as soon as I take a temperature reading.”

She knew my offbeat personality by now. Our chuckling reduced the awkwardness. I heard my name being called back on set, something about water displacement and testing the adjustment made to the apple box for the fall guy. With a twig leading the charge, I chugged back to set. My acting career was getting a lot of exposure on this promotional spot. Finally seeing green, I soaked it all in.

Behind the Scene in The Bounty Hunter

left to right - Gerard Butler, Jennifer Aniston

background- Joseph Tornatore

A dialogue scene from The Bounty Hunter starring Gerald Butler and Jennifer Aniston. Judging how adorable Aniston looked in frame, certainly no viewer pictured me far right in this movie scene. No matter how many takes we shot in the Taj Mahal casino, my tired feet did not fall for Jennifer Aniston once.

Outlaw Joey Wails About Role

Jimmy Smits in Outlaw

A TV pilot that I worked on as an extra has been officially green lit to air on NBC this fall. Originally titled Garza, this legal drama will star Jimmy Smits as a former Supreme Court Justice who quits the bench to represent the little guy.

I played a casino gambler and a capital punishment protester in episode 1.1. Regarding the latter role, the cast braved harsh elements to film a dicey outdoor scene at Resorts Casino so it would be justice if the little guys made the final cut.

My Dinner with De Niro

Robert De Niro

As a bit actor, I have compiled a list of revered actors I dream of sharing space on a movie set. Call it my bucket list. I have always considered Oscar winner Robert De Niro as one of the greatest actors of all time. His acting superiority in the movies Raging Bull and Taxi Cab alone are ranked #10 and #22 on the One Hundred Greatest Performances of All Time list.

My bucket list got a name shorter after recent invitation to the movie set of The Dark Fields starring iconic Robert De Niro and hunk Bradley Cooper. While De Niro presents more salt than pepper in his hair now, he carried enormous class and trademark confidence on the set of this thriller.

I got handpicked from a contingency of about two hundred largely unused extras holed up underground inside a former bank vault. I became a restaurant patron in a scene that filmed for several hours. As part of a group of five actors waiting to be seated next at the hostess station. Neil Burger, (The Illusionist) tapped me on the shoulder while the crew flipped the camera to a new position. The director instructed our party to greet De Niro with admiration and recognition as he cavorted into the upscale restaurant. It was explained that De Niro’s character commanded our awe. I almost blurted out that my reaction would hardly be acting becauseI had been bowing to De Niro like a demigod all day.

I quickly took inventory of the moment at hand. Albeit an uncredited role, I will be in frame with a living legend in a major motion picture. All I got to do is act like De Niro is one of my favorite actors on my bucket list! As cast and crew setup for the first take of this scene, I thought of everything that could go wrong until something unexpectedly did.

The nagging allergy cough that I suppressed during filming returned with a vengeance. I actually needed to flee the restaurant through the front turnstile doors in an embarrassing coughing stupor. Outside on the streets of Philadelphia, I hacked up dozens of congested coughs. Doubled over and worried another extra in holding would take my coveted place, my uncontrollable coughing began to resemble a panic attack. The large group of adulating fans gathered across the street made catcalls.

Somebody shouted, “Hey, that’s not Bradley Cooper!” Another commented, “It’s certainly not De Niro.” A young girl asked, “Who is it?" “I dunno, probably a nobody.” Some quick thinker wondered, “Wait a minute, I bet this is part of the movie?” Another said, "I don’t know but I’m recording it anyway."

A crew member, assigned to crowd control, called a medic on the walkie-talkie. About the time, my watery eyes could make out cameras and handheld video recorders pointed my way across the street, the medic arrived. I rose up from a doubled over position trying to resume normal breathing. I had no voice but I kept pantomiming whether they were filming yet. De Niro was supposed to start the scene outside the restaurant but as far as I knew he had yet to report outdoors to his first mark. The medic told me to save my breath and tilt my head back. Down went cough medicine. A cough drop was plucked into my mouth. I was handed a towel to dry the cold sweat from my face. Another arm appeared out of nowhere to hand me a water bottle. I drank chilled water in double swallows.

My lungs gradually opened and I could open my mouth without coughing, positive signs that I was on the road to recovery. A couple of smart aleck fans gave me an awkward cheer, something my acting career had never seen. I asked another crew member if they started filming the scene.

“I think they’re waiting on you.” he responded.

I coughed up spittle. “Always leave them wanting more.”

I returned inside the restaurant to my first mark, my eyes still watering from the coughing spell. De Niro passes by to report outside the restaurant. I must have became some hack to him. Be careful what you wish for. Although I resumed my fortunate mark in the film, I had become the actor who choked working with Robert De Niro.

Life Comes at You in Waves

Jennifer Aniston

The scene of the embarrassing incident occured on the set of The Bounty Hunter. I reacted like any warm-blooded man would have done placed in the same awkward situation. It meant less to her than it did me. It involved nothing more than a wave back, a long distance greeting with a celebrity you cannot get closer to without risking unemployment as an actor or arrest.

Let me set the scene within a scene. I am standing on my first mark at the bottom of the escalators underneath the Taj Majal’s signature chandeliers. The crew is methodically preparing the environment. It is the first take on the second day of this scene, which involves the two principle actors, Jennifer Aniston and Gerard Butler, bantering down the escalators.

An unusual thing happened. Jennifer Aniston waved my way after boarding the escalator. A sight to behold, she was looking my way and smiling charismatically. Even more impressively, nobody stood in between us. I had only clear sightlines of a sultry Jennifer Aniston dressed provocatively in a grey skirt and clingy low cut top. She had me.

I felt pints of blood rush through my body. I remained levelheaded while I quickly thought to myself. Aniston must recognize me from working together the day before. Our fleet relationship had spun all the way out of control to acquaintances. Judging social protocol, Aniston and Tornatore were a conversation from being friends. I raised my hand and gave a stiff armed wave back. Ah, therein lies the shame of it all. My wave showed the lack of confidence of a George Costanza, undeserving of the recipients time of day or acknowledgement.

After waving back to Aniston, hundreds of fans held precariously behind yellow caution tape and security guards erupted in enthusiastic applause. I had mentally blocked out this crowd to eliminate any performance anxiety. The screams and catcalls to Aniston flooded my consciousness. On Aniston’s continued ride up the escalator, I could not have appeared much smaller. Aniston cocked her head to the side. She gave me a smirk like… you silly middle-aged overweight man, you thought I was waving at you. Life comes at you in waves. I would do it again in a fast heartbeat.