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Monday and Tuesday of this week, I shot a commercial for The Discovery Channel with Lance Armstrong.
It was wonderful and miserable all at the same time.
On Monday morning... scratch that... At some unGodly hour between Sunday night and Monday morning, I rose out of bed to get ready for the day. My alarm went off at 2:30 am. Yeah, 2:30 am.
I had to be on set, practically camera-ready (which means dried hair) at 5:00 am.
So, I live in Burbank. You're thinking, "There are lots of studios in Burbank where said commercial could be shot, right? So there is no need to drive very far, right?" Wrong.
Not Warner Brothers (2 miles from my apartment), not NBC, not ABC (1.5 miles from my apartment), not Disney, not Nickelodeon, not Universal. All perfectly suitable studios.
Nope, we had to shoot out at some ranch in the middle of Westlake. That's an hour away! And I had to be there, camera-ready at 5am!
Truth is, I was so psyched about the day that the call time really didn't phase me all that much. Not only was Lance Armstrong the star of the commercial, but it also featured Steve Irwin (the croc hunter), Jeff Corwin, Dr. G Medical Examiner, the guy from Myth Busters, and a few other Discovery Channel personalities.
So, what was so miserable about the day, you ask?
Rain.
We parked in the field outside of a ranch home. We were shooting on the street riding bicycles. I was dressed as a bride in a heavy gown that didn't fit and had to be pinned on, not to mention the train that drug behind me in the mud. Cold air from the rain.
With all that in mind, picture this:
It's my turn to ride with Lance. (just so you understand the scenario, I was a bride who left her wedding to race against Lance for the chance to earn the next spot on the American team from which he recently retired.)
Wearing my strapless gown with two tons of crinlin in the skirt, I exited the trailer and stepped right down into the ground that had become one giant field of mud thanks to the rain. Trying to hold my train in one hand so as not to dirty it too much while using the other hand to shield my eyes from the rain, I dredged through the slop to join the crew.
With about three people attempting to hold me up and keep me from falling, I climb onto the race bike that I am meant to ride. Now, lucky stars and all, the bike was mounted on a flat-bed being pulled by a pick-up truck. The director and camera man are seated in the back of the pickup prepping the camera and wrapping vital parts in plastic to shield it from the downpour.
While doing a rehearsal prior to shooting, we discover that my stupid crinlin is getting caught in the pedals of the bike and the spokes of the tires. So, wardrobe is rushed to set to examine and resolve the problem.
Ten minutes later, I am pinned to the bike with giant safety pins that are holding the crinlin above the level of the pedals while the satin of the dress hides all the pinning.
Another rehearsal and we learn that the pinned crinlin is not stopping the front tire from spinning and thus kills the bike-riding illusion on camera. This time, props is called to set and told to stand out of frame on the flat-bed and spin my tire as we film.
Then, with a 3-car police escort, we exit the ranch and pull out onto the street to begin filming the scene.
Now, do not forget that it is raining. Pouring down. And we are traveling down the road on a flat-bed. Stinging cold needle-like drops of rain hit my face and bare shoulders, but when the camera is rolling, I give the determined look... the look that I want to win the race.
We do a few takes and finally the director likes one.
After I am unpinned from the bike, I jump off the bike (quite gracefully as you might imagine in a bulky wedding dress) and run to a nearby waiting van that is to take us back to set.
I sit next to two guys from the real race team while Lance sits directly in front of me. Being from Texas, he recognizes a familiar Southern accent and begins to chat with me briefly about it.
Because the street was blocked off for the shooting, a lady becomes impatient and steps out of our X5 to approach our van sitting on the side of the road. (the van has not yet left the flat-bed because the camera crew have to check the gate before they can confirm the shot was good). This lady now comes to the window to complain and sees Lance sitting in the van.
"Oh my gosh! I am a huge fan! Look, I have the tennis shoes," she then lefts her foot to the van window to show Lance her shoes. I have no clue what that was about... does he endorse a shoe?
Regardless, Lance is polite and says hello.
The lady begins to ask questions about the spot and then spots me sitting behind him.
"Tell me you are not riding a bicycle in that dress," she exclaims.
I tell her that I am indeed riding in my dress.
Lance then speaks up and says, "Actually, we are getting married out here today."
Next tabloid rumor possibly?
The lady is then hurried away when the police officers start to once-again move traffic.
By the time we finished filming that night, the dress was ruined. Muddied up and just gross (and I had to put it on the next day?!?!)
Cars were stuck in the muddy field and had to be pulled out. One SUV was buried to the fender. Not me, luckily. I don't have 4-wheel drive, but my Dakota is tough, boy.
Yeah, pretty much a repeat the next day. Except calltime was 6 am and we parked along the road instead of in the muddy field. (he he he, the catering truck got stuck in the mud and had to be pulled out the second day - that was pretty funny - the guys were still cooking inside when it was stuck and sunk and sitting crooked.)
Wonderful and miserable all the same time.
But as always, a lot of fun.
