Different Flavors
The first time I worked with a famous person?
Over 20 years ago now…
See, network sitcoms are well-oiled machines. And I was still a fresh-faced kid from West Virginia. So that rehearsal week felt like being in a bustling laboratory full of scientists. A bit more laughter on a soundstage? Probably. But zoom out and you’ll see what they have in common. A team of experts constantly tweaking and experimenting. In this case, with the writing of jokes. And micro adjustments to the inflection of every word in a punchline. Precise attention paid to tiny details in costumes. A department whose sole focus is building and procuring the ideal props.
Day after day, each moment was worked – until the timing felt just right. Those tweaks often turned silence into belly laughs. It’s a very specific magic trick to get involuntary responses out of people. To pull laughter out of thin air. It required adjustment after adjustment. Hundreds of people trying to hit the right notes. Which is basically what it is.
A group attempt to get the “music” right.
After rehearsal week? Time for tape night. A live studio audience taking their seats, eager to watch the show. An energetic warmup guy hyping them up. But, down in the lab, the work continues on. A joke doesn’t land as expected? Teams of people huddle to re-craft that moment. Maybe even experiment with a new one. But the clock is ticking now. Just one night to figure it out before the opportunity is lost.
The star of this show? He was fresh off a decade of massive success. Part of arguably the most popular sitcom in television history. No shortage of pressure on his shoulders. The face of this new venture and also one of its producers. I noticed how everyone needed something from him. Person after person with questions and concerns. It seemed like an endless line of requests. Not to mention all the visitors to the set who wanted pictures or autographs – often just a moment of attention. It was exhausting to watch.
The thing is, he never seemed exhausted.
In fact, the opposite was true.
When I had a question about a camera someone was using…he popped in from out of nowhere with the answer. If I was silently working on my dialogue, he’d finish a conversation and then offer to run through the scene. And when my collar looked a little sloppy? He fixed it himself – reminding this very young version of me that my mom would be watching the episode. All of it was done with an encouraging smile. Was there an entire costume department to help me with my shirt? Of course. But I think he noticed an eager noob still so unfamiliar with those surroundings. He went out of his way to make me comfortable. Seemed to be his nature. The guy bounced around that set making sure everyone was taken care of. I guess he knew how fortunate he was and felt like it was the least he could do.
That’s just how some people are built.
You probably know the type.
I only saw him once after that. No live audience. No eyeballs. No need to impress anyone. Just a random run-in at a sandwich shop. And the guy was still every bit as kind. Same dude. Maybe even friendlier than before. I tried to thank him for making my early experience such a pleasant one. But he beat me to the punch. Before I got any words out, he was busy thanking me. For being part of the cast, adding to the fun, and so on. Then some teenagers started gathering around him for pictures. Never did get the chance to express my appreciation.
My first experience with Oscar winners?
It came soon after the sitcom taping…
Shiny gold statues. Just a small portion of the trophy case for both guys sitting across from me. A director in his prime and the legendary New York actor. The latter was a bit on the strange side. But, hey, people come in all flavors. His particular flavor? I’d describe it as introverted with a side dish of awkwardness.
To be fair, he was struggling with the material. A very old school guy who had to deliver a long monologue about technology. Literally a senior citizen. And, honestly, the majority of those words had probably never come out of his mouth before. Tons of jargon. So, he stayed very quiet. Mostly to himself. Just an old guy trying to do his job.
He kept trying.
And trying…
For the next 14 hours until we finally called it a day.
This continued for most of the week. A lot of revving up with nowhere to go. I started to wonder what the hell was happening. Never seen anyone struggle like that with dialogue. Especially a living legend. Is this really him? Was it smoke and mirrors for all these years and all of his brilliant performances? Or maybe this is just what happens at the age of 70. Maybe the old magic gets lost for good after a certain point.
But then came the moment…
We’d been at it for days. A challenging scene, no doubt. With precise timing needed on his part for the complicated camera moves. I begin by alerting him to a security breach in the system. He barks at me to get things handled before starting his massive dramatic speech. It just wasn’t working. And, suddenly, out of nowhere…days into this complete shitshow…his eyes light up. As if he knows something. Like a person about to strike oil. He stands up straight, looking like the younger, in-his-prime version of himself. This tired old man now suddenly full of electricity. And he barks his orders at me. Adding an improvised command:
“Do it.”
“Do it.”
“DO IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
The entire stage shakes. My head jerks back and the hair on my arm stands at attention. This old geezer storms through his speech like a man possessed. Strutting around like a lion hunting for a meal. It’s absolutely incredible. And, just like that, all doubts and questions about his talent are forgotten.
Took him a while to get cranked up, but the man still had something inside of himself to give.
And so it went.
Year after year.
Over time, my adventures with recognizable people started feeling very normal. Honestly, the only thing that felt unusual was how the world viewed them. As if they were something more. Or occasionally something less. The truth is, they were just like the rest of the people I interact with. Some were great, others strange, with an occasional shithead. But the concept of fame started to confuse me. The way people tripped over themselves to worship or castigate these individuals. When they were just like any other group of coworkers. A full range of types. With nothing different but the made-up concept of “fame.”
No longer a noob, I’d sometimes even feel like the old veteran on a set. Like when the most successful comedienne in the world produced a show. She wanted to find work for her talented Groundlings improv friends. They didn’t have the same opportunities. Things had fallen in place just so for lightning to strike her life. But her buddies were comedic geniuses too. And they sat at home or worked in restaurants. Their world-renowned peer didn’t like it. Felt they deserved so much more. It was an inspiring display of friendship to observe. She went through the complicated process of getting that show made…taking time away from her soaring career…basically just to get them a gig. When I showed up on that set, they asked me questions for over an hour. Curious to learn more about other sets and shows. Trying to soak up information. Hoping to make their friend proud.
Other times, I grew dismayed. Like with the lead of a Fox primetime drama. A woman who barely looked up from her phone. She had the world in the palm of her hands but couldn’t be troubled to do her job. Instead, it was a nonstop stream of complaints. Which wore down the people around her. You could see it on their faces. Could feel it in the air. Her lunch wasn’t good enough, the days were too long, the budget too low…and whatever else could possibly bother a person. She focused on everything but the work itself.
Much like annoying coworkers we’ve had at other jobs.
You probably know the type.
Then there was the Oscar winner headlining a show she produced. Always the richest person in the room. One of 3 women from the last few decades who could be described as “America’s sweetheart.” She had every reason to half-ass it. But never once did. Like so many other busy people with a bunch of things in life to juggle. Trying to do her best to handle it all. In fact, what I remember most was her concern about her daughter who’d just started dating.
Much like every other mom at work whose mind is on her kids.
You probably know the type.
Years went by. Some of these people stayed acquaintances, a few become friends, and most were just coworkers for a few days or weeks. A small handful were unpleasant.
Most were not.
Basically the same ratio as when we look back at any of our other jobs.
Are there some differences? Only with the icing. Never with the cake itself. For example, the most famous movie star in the history of motion pictures. Maybe the friendliest person I’ve ever met. To the point that I actually had to make up an excuse to leave our conversation and beat traffic. So, yeah, it’s wild to think that he’s also essentially a cult member. In a “religion” that takes advantage of people under the guise of helping.
But, really, how different is that?
How many people have we known who get stuck in something deeply dysfunctional? Haven’t you seen it over and over again in your life? Not exactly unusual to see a person get lost in something unhealthy.
Icing isn’t cake. These people are human beings. But, along the way, the world decided it was ok to see them as something else. This is a very strange dance we do. But it isn’t reality. And that’s why I’ve never written about this stuff. You’ll certainly never hear me use the word, “celebrity.” None of that noise makes sense to me. A person is a person.
These stories happened to be about some of the individuals from my work and in my community.
Not really any different from when I liked or disliked someone in West Virginia.
We get to know all kinds of types.
In your town, friends share their experiences with you, right? Colleagues they work with. Various interactions. No difference in these stories. It’s just that some of these people are names we know. For example, a friend of mine was a victim of Bill Cosby’s. A very nice older lady. She was lucky enough to get away from his attempted rape that day. But obviously it happened. My friend isn’t the type to make up a story. That’s not who she is. And what happens with fame is that sometimes people don’t want to believe facts. Something inside of them fights against it. They overthink…or underthink…because they get blinded by the bright lights. That’s probably the main difference. It just doesn’t happen in most towns when friends share information about their interactions.
For example…
My best friend is like a brother to me. He worked on the crew of a reality show for years. We were living together at that time. And the star of this show was an absolute nightmare. That dude added so much stress to my friend’s life. Weekly rampages that made the entire crew deeply uncomfortable. Regular disturbing rants about black people, gays, and women. Multiple occurrences of sexual harassment against the latter. His patented business move was hiring contractors but refusing to pay them in full. A classless guy in every way. No different than other shitty individuals polluting other circles in other towns.
Well, this guy is now running for President of the United States.
Poof. Like magic, there are people who were totally into this post…who are now suddenly blinded by the lights. As if this was all made up. As if it’s nothing but lies and conspiracy theories. Look, I’m not into politics. I have no affection for either person running. Certainly don’t care how anyone votes. And, really, I have no desire to write about him again because I don’t even like thinking about the guy. But this man is, in fact, a total piece of garbage.
You probably know the type.
