If
you opened up this blog post because of the title, I might as well admit right
up front: It’s a lie. Sorry, kids, but that’s showbiz.
Since
you’re here though, you might as well keep reading… Right?
The
truth is that House of Cards is
filming its Season 3 finale in my office building this week, two and three
floors below me. I’m just not allowed anywhere near the actors. Apparently,
someone got ahold of my police record from the time I threw myself at Gerard
Butler and declared my undying love for his shoulders. And accent. And abs.
Okay.
That’s a lie too: the part about the restraining order, I mean. The rest is
true. So true that I was prevented from entering my office this morning by two
very nice but very firm House of Cards
security personnel. Apparently, the show was in the middle of shooting a scene
and it was “quiet on the set” for another three minutes.
Once
I was allowed in, I had to snake my way up the backstairs, past camera crew and
other techies to the fourth floor. I didn’t get to see much, and I definitely
didn’t get a glimpse of Kevin Spacey or Robin Wright, but what I saw wasn’t
that much of a turn-on.
That’s
not meant as a slam against any of the dozens of additional individuals at my
office building. The ones I’ve briefly interacted with seem pleasant (and one
of them apparently told off one of my more obnoxious coworkers, which makes me
giggle). Not to mention that the food platters I saw set up for cast and crew
looked delicious.
All
the same, it was a madhouse! There were people everywhere: outside lining the
sidewalk, around the front and back doors, inside… This little introvert-writer
wasn’t overwhelmed, but I also wasn’t craving what I saw (except for the food.
That really did look good).
There
was no Little Mermaid moment for me:
I really have no desire to be part of that world.
Then
again, I’ve never understood the appeal of Hollywood. I don’t care how many gorgeous
mansions they get to live in or dresses they get to wear or cars they get to
drive; they’re also told what they’re allowed to weigh, do and even be.
“Don’t
stand like that, honey. The camera doesn’t like you from this angle.” “Let’s
Photoshop that nose; it could be a lot more attractive if we just…” “She’s
thirty-two now. Cast her as a mother. That’s all she’s good for anymore.”
Those
are the kinds of comments you get to hear when you’re in front of the camera.
Hence the reason why I think it’s so much more worthwhile to be a writer, where
I call the shots.
Agreed!
ReplyDelete