REFLECTIONS

by Katie Butler Johnson

It was love at first sight.

That Christmas Morning in 1989, I could see it in my six-year-old’s eyes as he caught a glimpse our family’s brand new Magnovox Video Cassette Recorder.

When it was finally his turn to try it out, he lifted it chin high, locked onto a target and pressed record. I had no idea at the time, but that was his first step on his path to a career as a film director.

I’ve squirreled away a VCR tape he made on that Magnavox camcorder of a GI Joe sketch he did with several friends when they were all about 10 years old. They’d patched together outfits roughly resembling GI Joe action figures and improvised dialogue about a military mission. He recruited me to help only because they needed someone to run the camcorder. But, when they needed a female to act a part, I handed my son the VCR and stepped into the skit myself. This was all great fun for me, but it was really a learning experience for him.

Then in 9th grade, his teacher assigned a paper on Rosa Parks for February’s Black History Month. My Son asked if he could do a video instead. The teacher agreed. His video was so intriguing that it found its way to our local PBS - Channel 13 – and aired on the program “Frame of Mind.” After that, it was USC Film School, internships at Paramount Studios and Dream Works, starting a production company with a high school buddy who was an NYU film school graduate and eventually they won a Webby, a Clio and a Cannes Lion for their video and film efforts.

Around the time my son was shooting that GI Joe video, I saw an ad for movie extras in the Dallas Morning News. I thought – why not? I had this son that was might be heading towards film as a career and maybe I’d better understand the process by being on a real set. I answered the ad by sending them my picture, contact number and measurements as requested. I heard nothing back for months. Then, one day, I got a call about 11am asking me to be at the location by 4pm sharp.

When I arrived at the movie location, there was a trailer with Universal Studios WW2 scrolled across the side. It was stuffed with period clothing. The wardrobe staff dressed me in 1940’s fashion - a flowered dress, a hat sporting both a feather and a vail, clunky shoes, nylon stockings seamed up the back, and bakelite jewelry and purse. Then I was sent to hair and makeup. They gave my long hair a Veronica Lake look and put fire-engine red lipstick on me. Then I was sent to the waiting area. After several hours of waiting, the craft services truck arrived with dinner. Then back to makeup to touch up the lipstick I’d licked off. Then even several more hours before any action.

The movie was a Hallmark Hall of Fame Production titled “An American Hero” staring Kathleen Quinlan. I was one of a group of women seated in the audience at a woman’s club meeting listening to the heroine talk about the war efforts.

To give the illusion of daytime when it was midnight outside, the production crew had hung white sheets over the outside of the windows and aimed massive flood lights from outside through the windows into the room.

When the cinematographer finally arrived on set, he mounted a rolling camera that slid on rails back and forth across the room as he recorded us seated and watching the heroine as she delivered her lines. I was on the end of the front row. The action took less than 10 minutes to film. We were given $40 and sent home.

Eager to see my film debut, I gathered friends and family for a watch party only to discover my part of the row had been edited out. I’d landed on the cutting room floor!

I recently asked my son whether my experience of being an extra was a typical one. He said yes. He added he never books extras till the last minute. He casts a wide net for them so he’ll have many available at the drop of the hat when they are actually needed on set. And those flood lights through sheets that mimic daylight - very cost effective. The production company rents the camera equipment and filming around the clock saves money.

I’m glad I got to be an extra. Although it required endless down time, that down time gave me an insight into what my now grown up 6 yr old boy does as director. I got a good feel for what goes on BEHIND the camera, how the various crews work their separate parts and how the director is charged with making those components dovetail. I’d captured it all - not on film, but in my mind’s eye. But, most of all, as a mom, I’m glad that my boy got to do what he loves.