“I’ve always depended on the kindness of strangers.”
Tennessee Williams; A Streetcar Named Desire
Once upon a time, I worked at a big, magical movie studio in Hollywood.
As a member of studio productions, my job was to rent various sound stages and back locations for movies, music videos, television shows and “still shoots.” Once settled on the lot, I oversaw specific shoots, from early morning until very late. At 5’2 and 110 lbs, I was in charge of large men – electricians, grips, directors, assistant directors, haz mat teams, special effects people, stuntmen and often, wild animals.
In the early days on that 8-year job, I set up an outdoor video shoot in an alley adjacent to our New York Street location. It was for 3 young women who called themselves, Destiny’s Child. Nobody knew who they were- just 3 pretty women. Imagine? I stood next to Bey and didn’t even know it.
In my first year, I also did an estimate for an R&B singer named Usher. At a production meeting, I asked, “Has anyone heard of an artist named Usher?” I got blank stares. Not one person knew of Usher. In the end, all that work I did was for naught – his company could not afford to do the shoot. Times have changed!
Such was my job at the big, magical movie studio. And although I worked very long days, it was often fun.
And speaking of fun, enter George Clooney, the oh-so-attractive star of ER (around 1999).
One day, out of the blue, I was assigned to an Esquire Magazine “still shoot,” featuring George Clooney. It was for their cover. At that juncture in his escalating career, he had vacated his role on the hit television series, ER, and was at odds with the intrusive photographers stalking his every move.
Tremendously frustrated, Clooney launched a campaign to stifle the aggressive paparazzi. This cover of Esquire depicted George in a tux, surround by twenty-five male photographers, holding fancy cameras. It was a political statement, done with enough humor that it garnered him a lot of positive attention.
This photo shoot was scheduled for late morning with a running time of less than three hours. The location was a brick alley on the back lot, adjacent to a much larger area known as New York Street. Although small, it was a very popular location. It was the same place where I shot there with Destiny’s Child.
On the morning of the Esquire shoot, I headed out to meet the photographer and discuss logistics. All was well. He looked at his watch and asked me to go see if George was ready. I then jumped in my golf cart and headed for George Clooney’s trailer.
As I pulled up to his trailer, the door was wide open. Sitting on a sofa facing the door, were a man and woman. Not recognizing them, I walked up the stairs, stepped into the trailer and said “Hi, I’m Carrie from Production Services. Is George here? The director is ready.”
All of a sudden, a big hand jutted out from my right peripheral vision, and a deep, familiar male voice said, “Hi, I’m George.”
I said, “Yes you ARE.” It just came out of my mouth. I wasn’t thinking. No matter. He was smiling, and impossibly relaxed. In fact, George was more relaxed than any human being I’ve ever met (who is not on medication, that is).
Dressed in a tuxedo, he jumped into my golf cart and I hurried to the alley location. As I pulled up, George jumped out of the golf cart, thanked me and began the photo shoot – surrounded by 20 young male extras dressed as paparazzi. When the photographer wrapped an hour later, I drove George back to his trailer. We even made small talk. Upon arrival, he jumped off, thanked me again.
This is precisely when the INCIDENT happened. Just as George was about to climb the stairs to his trailer, a male extra approached him and rudely tugged at his tuxedo sleeve. Wincing the totally inappropriate moment, I opened my mouth to interrupt, but it was too late. I stood back and watched. To make the scene even sadder, the poor kid was an eccentric misfit. If I had to cast him, I’d say he was a genetic cross between Jack Black and Josh Gad (both actors I love, btw).
Extra: “George, George.” YANKING at Clooney’s tux. “Can I give you something?”
Oh no, I’m thinking!
George turned to the guy. Inside, I’m thinking “Oh nooooo.” I was standing three feet away from the scene, but it happened so fast, I was unable to deter the young extra. Nobody else witnessed the awkward exchange. Just me.
George stops. “Sure. Nice to meet you.”
Extra: “Would you look at my reel? Would you?”
Clooney did not hesitate. He smiled warmly, shook the kid’s hand, and accepted the cassette (circa, 1999).
George, “Sure buddy. Good job today.”
From my perspective, it was a cringe-worthy moment. I winced. But George didn’t. He was classy, calm and NICE. While other celebrities would have obliterated this boy, George Clooney did the opposite. He was kind.
George Clooney would never ever recall that moment, let alone the shoot – but I do. I was witness to a moment. I was witness to the incredible kindness of George Clooney. The Jews have a slang term for people like George. He’s a mensch. According to the dictionary, a mensch is described as “someone to admire and emulate – someone of noble character. That’s George. George Clooney is a noble mensch.
NOTE: This is the first in a series of essays that are solely devoted to my positive and personal experiences with celebrities.
They were the most expensive pair of sandals I had ever bought. After wearing them only once, the recession hit and my salary was promptly cut. As a result of this misfortune, I went directly into buyer’s remorse. During the checkout, I inquired if the shoes came with a warranty, but they did not.