So we're all pretty much in awe of this huge movie star. He does his thing for a while, and we react, and it's good fun. Then, Andy decides he wants to get to know us all better. So he jumps down off the stage, into the seats, and grabs a wireless microphone.
And starts asking people to sing.
He grabbed a few random people, and they were all very embarrassed and didn't want to play along. So one guy stood up and grabbed the mic away from one reticent girl and belted out "Kiss From a Rose." And he got booed down. Andy was loving it. He wanders the seats for a bit longer, and I start to get a bit bored by the proceedings.
Until Andy is standing right next to me and asking me to sing.
"Any requests?" I ask into the mic, which receives a bit of a laugh. I feel a bit more confident now.
"How about 'Bohemian Rhapsody?'" asks Andy.
So I start to sing Bohemian Rhapsody. And about six bars in, people start joining in. About 16 bars in, the whole crowd, including the crew, are singing along. And Andy is conducting.
We get through the whole song. Lots of applause and cheering and whistling and I'm blushing and grinning like a total idiot. Andy gets called back up on stage, and the shooting proceeds again.
We break for lunch about an hour later, and suddenly I'm surrounded by extras, all of whom are telling me that I'm freaking awesome and boy can I sing and wow that was so surreal wasn't it?
And I can only nod.
Why Jim Carrey is a God Among Men, part 2
Lizette told me that she'd heard about the singing thing from my last day on the Man on the Moon set. She was suddenly reluctant to let me go to a second day.
"See, Milos Foreman himself says we can't send people more than once. And they're sure to remember you."
"Oh, Lizette, c'mon. I doubt it. It wasn't that big of a deal. I'm sure they won't remember at all. It's been almost two weeks!"
"Well, ok. Just keep a low profile today and don't stand out."
Right. I'll sure give that a try. Uh huh. Watch, I'm so retiring and mousy and shy and wallflower.
Anyway. My second day on the set was considerably closer to home than Long Beach: I was back on the Universal lot that day. Stage 17. (Funny part was, when I became a VIP tour guide at Universal, I would use this story as part of my tour. The guests loved it.)
The usual busy-ness of getting the day underway was well... underway. This part of the movie took place in a later year than the Great Gatsby scene, so my hair wasn't feathered this time. It was curled into a page-boy looking cut and was considerably easier on me than the foofy 'do.
I wander out of holding (stage 16) and around the back for a quick smoke break. Everybody else is hopping on the catering truck for their NDB. (NDB = Non-deductible breakfast. Basically, it's a production company's way of feeding you early so they don't have to break for lunch at the 6 hour mark.) I had already eaten, and I was being good and nondescript and low-profile-y.
Except that I'd not noticed where I was really going for my smoke, and discovered the star's trailers, hidden between the stages.
And Andy was out in force. He'd set up his bongo drums outside his trailer, and was practicing. (And, fun movie trivia: Jim actually purchased Andy Kaufman's bongos for this movie and practiced on them every chance he got.) And he spotted me.
"Hey! It's Rhapsody Girl!"
Are you concerned that you may be a character trapped in a Tom Waits song? Be smart and learn the warning signs before it's too late. Also, it's too late. It has always been too late.
I'm haunted by a recurring vision of a skeleton flipping me off. To avoid seeing this terrifying image in bumper sticker form, I pay someone with a blank bumper to drive in front of me at all times.
The Comedy Goldmine examines the funniest and most creative threads from the Something Awful Forums. Although the Comedy Goldmine has changed authors many times over the years, its focus on the Something Awful Forums is still the same. Includes hilarious Photoshops, amusing work stories, parodies, and other types of oddball humor.