All the extras get a break and we go in the cramped room at the side where all the generators, walkie talkie chargers and associated electrical gear and more monitors are crammed in. There's also a little table with a coffee urn and sandwiches. Just then, Amanda Donohoe comes in through the side door. She's in full glam pub landlady attire and looks like a million dollars, despite the shabby backdrop. 'Living the dream, eh?' says the gleefully sarcastic gent carrying her bag as they struggle past the assorted clutter of the room to get to the coffee machine. She smiles as she passes by and I briefly catch her eye. Must be that daft shirt. I'm chuffed.
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In the pub side room we can hear Ferdinando and his posse repeatedly cheering me to the roof ('Bravo Dino!') as they continue filming their dialogue scene at the bar. Cast and crew mill around, sipping coffee, looking at the black and white monitors, fetching stuff in, carrying things out. They're all either on their way to something or coming back from it.
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The general activity reminds me of the crew of a ship. Everyone is smiling and helpful. It's a very good atmosphere. They're a young, well-disciplined group, quietly going about their tasks. Very few orders need to be given. Everyone knows what they're doing. There's no passengers on a film crew and not many second chances. Any one messes up and they won't be hired again. It's brutally simple.
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We're still needed for the afternoon. Cars take us back to the school where we get a substantial lunch of turkey curry and then mega chocolate brownies for sweet. Probably a couple of thousand calories all told. That should help me burst through that tight shirt. There's no such thing as a free lunch, except in this case, there is.
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Back in the pub and the ever-helpful Tibo is my guide. 'You're still singing!' he keeps saying to me for most of the afternoon.
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Donohoe, Ferdinando and company are doing their dialogue scene at the bar at the other end of the pub and I'm supposed to be still singing in the back of their shot by the stage. The camera angle is reversed, now looking past them and down towards me in the far distance. I mime with the mike, walking back and forth in commanding Sinatra style.
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I keep pretending to sing. Just like The Three Degrees in that scene in The French Connection. Or, like the striptease dancers in all those old episodes of The Sweeney and Minder, I'm a mere detail in the background while the principals talk.
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'Keep singing!' They go for a take in the distance at the bar and I abruptly stop singing when the door slams which heralds Amanda Donohoe's entrance. 'Don't stop singing!' Hadi cries out. They do the scene several times over, each take punctuated by the clunk of that heavy door.
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NEXT PAGE, THE PARTY’S OVER
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