After my three hellish days on Billions playing a poker bro (memorialized here), I reluctantly submitted for the role of “high-end gym administrator.” Here’s how it went.
I don’t feel right at all for the part, so I’m surprised when Casting requests images. I hear nothing, par for the course.
In the early evening, Casting confirms I’m out. But early the next morning, I’m in! Casting wants me to play a “high-end gym goer.” Someone must’ve canceled, and I’ll be coming off the “practice squad.”
Whatever. I accept. Of course, I accept. I don’t have to be on set until 10:30 am. They check me in. Wardrobe okays me after handing me a shirt.
An hour or so later, they bus us uptown to some sort of art gallery that has been transformed into a high-end, high-tech fitness studio, which has all sorts of areas: martial arts, crypto and surf boards, to name just a few. I’m placed on a rowing machine. Meanwhile, video screens show action sports.
It’s a “walkaway lunch,” which is production speak for: “Feed yourself on your own dime.”
In the early evening, we take our places once again. Some are switched, but I’m back on the rower. A lady sprays me with moisture to simulate sweat. I row hard, very hard, like I’m Norway worthy. I’m perspiring – for real. My efforts catch the eye of the cinematographer, whom I recognize from another shoot. He seems to be amused by my intensity, and he asks me how I’m doing. “I might as well get a workout in,” I explain.
Photo courtesy British GQ
Production seems to like my “performance.” However, I’m making too much noise, so they adjust. First, they direct me to slide back and forth, no rowing. Next, they tell me to pantomime. I’m just moving my back forward and back. However, it’s still not good enough. Unfortunately, I’m breathing too loudly, so I stop breathing, at least while we’re shooting. At some point, production makes me wear goggles with black shades. I can’t see a thing.
In the scene, actors Paul Giamatti and Rob Morrow have a confrontation. At one point, the second-second director directs me to row when the first person speaks and to pantomime when the other speaks. I must pay close attention because I’m not facing them, and no, I haven’t been given a script. With the goggles on, of course, I couldn’t read it anyway.
Between takes, Paul talks lines to himself, chats with the crew, and nibbles on nuts from a paper cup. Totally cool, great guy. Just after 8 pm, it’s over.
On this particular day, Billions was heavenly.
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Jon Hart is the author of Unfortunately, I Was Available.
