The sudden blare of the alarm clock jolted Matthew awake. He reached out, flicked on the switch, and the bedside lamp cast a soft glow. Despite the darkness still clinging to the window, he got dressed and headed for the bathroom, calling out to his soundly sleeping roommate, "Mike, get up."
Michael pried his eyes open and mumbled, "Is it morning already?"
From the bathroom, Matthew's voice called back, "Hurry up."
Filming for the combat scenes officially started today. Unlike the past few days, when he'd been able to sleep until dawn, Helen had given them orders the previous evening: be up at three in the morning and on the set outside the city by four.
By the time Michael dragged himself out of bed, Matthew had already finished washing up.
"I'm heading out," he said, opening the door. "See you in the dining hall."
"Alright," Michael drawled, yawning.
The ground floor of the hotel was quiet, as few people were awake yet. Matthew took the stairs down and entered the dining hall, where he found breakfast already laid out. He grabbed a tray, picked out some food, and headed into the modest dining area, where only one person was seated.
Matthew walked over to her. "Good morning, Helen."
"Mind if I join you?" Matthew asked, gesturing to the seat across from her.
Helen saw no reason to refuse. "Of course."
Matthew set down his tray, pulled out a chair, and sat down opposite Helen. "Do you get up before the actors every day?" he asked casually.
"The work won't wait for me," Helen replied, her tone all business.
Lately, Matthew had been paying close attention to Helen, making a point of appearing in her vicinity from time to time.
It was obvious Helen had noticed, but Matthew wasn't the least bit flustered. "I'm curious," he said. "How did you manage to get so many roles in Gladiator?"
Helen smiled. "I got lucky."
Seeing she didn't want to elaborate, Matthew dropped the subject and focused on his breakfast. It was going to be a grueling day ahead.
Halfway through his breakfast, more people began to file into the dining hall. Helen placed her knife and fork down, dabbed her mouth with a napkin, and stood up. "I'm finished," she said matter-of-factly. "You should hurry. The shoot will be starting soon."
Matthew, his mouth full of bacon, could only nod in response.
No sooner had Helen walked away than Michael rushed over with his plate and slid into the chair she had just vacated. "What were you two talking about?" he asked, his curiosity piqued. "Are you making a move on her?"
Matthew rolled his eyes. "No."
Michael peeled an egg, popped a piece into his mouth, and asked again, "So what were you talking about?"
"I asked her how she got the roles for the movie," Matthew replied.
Matthew wasn't the only one who was curious; Michael leaned in. "And? Did she tell you?"
"No," Matthew said, shaking his head. "She's very tight-lipped."
The two of them finished breakfast and stepped outside the hotel. The sky was still dark, but the streets were brightly lit. Nearly fifty extras from the Angel Agency had already assembled and were being led out of the city toward the edge of a forest by Helen and her assistant, Amanda.
Huge light towers surrounded the forest, banishing the darkness and illuminating the area as brightly as day. More than twenty makeup trailers were parked in a long line, and over fifty makeup artists and their assistants were already at their stations.
Standing near the makeup trailers, Matthew saw Helen speak for a moment with a bearded man before she walked over to the gathered extras.
"Alright, listen up! We're splitting into two groups," Helen announced. "One group goes with Amanda to makeup, the other follows me to get into costume."
The extras split into two groups. Michael started to head for makeup, but Matthew pulled him into the line for costumes instead.
"We're all going to have to get beards glued to our faces," Matthew explained. Yesterday, at the end of rehearsal, he had specifically asked a crew member about the process. "It's not even four in the morning, and filming won't start until nine at the earliest. Do you really want to have glue on your face for five hours?"
Michael quickly switched to Matthew's line.
Shooting an epic film was an ordeal, especially when the actors' physical transformations were so time-consuming. It wasn't uncommon for some of the more significant characters to arrive ten minutes, or even half an hour, late to set.
Such were the privileges of stardom.
Having now worked on three productions, Matthew had learned that it was standard practice for extras and minor actors to wait patiently while the big names took their time getting to the set.
Matthew lined up and headed for the trailer that served as the wardrobe department. It was only four in the morning, yet the entire Gladiator production crew was already running at full throttle.
Gladiator was undeniably an A-list Hollywood production, and this massive battle scene was proof. It involved over a thousand actors, and when you added in the crew from all the different departments, the total number of people concentrated in this one location exceeded 2,500. The scale of it was staggering.
Standing in line and shuffling past the trailers for the various departments, Matthew could see the whole operation running with precision, like a well-oiled machine. Everything was orderly, with no sign of chaos.
Compared to a juggernaut like the Gladiator production, the cast and crew of Girl, Interrupted was a mere drop in the bucket.
The queue ground to a halt near a pair of crew trailers, and Matthew settled in to wait. With hundreds of extras to process, even an efficient crew would take some time.
Over an hour passed before Matthew finally made it inside the trailer, just as the sky began to lighten. The extras were all playing insignificant roles, so none of them received custom-fitted costumes. A costumer sized him up, then found a rough-spun outfit and a faux-fur shawl for him to wear.
The clothes were a little tight and didn't sit quite right, but a barbarian didn't need a perfect fit. The costumer gave him a once-over and clapped him on the arm. "There, now you're a real barbarian."
Matthew changed into a pair of worn-out boots and stepped out of the trailer.
"Go over there for makeup," Helen, who was waiting outside the trailer, instructed, pointing the way. "Hurry."
Matthew made his way to the adjacent makeup trailer to queue up once more. The costume was heavy and layered; thankfully, the March mornings in Los Angeles were cool. If they had been shooting this scene in the summer, extras would likely be fainting from heatstroke.
As dawn broke, it was finally Matthew's turn. Seated in a chair outside the makeup trailer, a makeup artist first tousled his medium-length hair into a messy state, then instructed her nearby assistant to apply the beard.
Matthew had seen his share of Hollywood blockbusters, and one thing that always struck him about epic films was that most of the male characters, whether handsome or hideous, had beards.
An uncivilized Germanic barbarian was certainly no exception.
The assistant found a fake beard that nearly matched Matthew's hair color and began to attach it to his face with a special adhesive.
After the beard was glued on and some other transparent substance was smeared over his face, the adhesive began to feel uncomfortably itchy after a short time.
He couldn't scratch or touch it, though, or he'd ruin the makeup. He had no choice but to endure the discomfort.
Finally, Matthew went to the props department to get his barbarian weapon.
This part went much faster. Noting Matthew's tall and sturdy frame, a prop master handed him a two-handed battle-ax. With its double-bladed head, it looked quite menacing, but it was light in his hands. It clearly wasn't metal, but likely plastic or resin, weighing no more than five or six pounds.
And with that, the transformation into a formidable barbarian warrior was complete.
Gripping the mighty two-handed battle-ax, Matthew was led by a crew member to the edge of the forest, where he joined the other actors to await the start of filming.
By now, it was already past eight in the morning.
From the moment he had arrived on set until his transformation was complete, more than four hours had passed, most of which was spent waiting.
His legs were aching, his feet were a little numb, and some of the other extras had tired, sleepy looks on their faces.
But if you wanted to be in a movie, even for just a few seconds, you had to keep waiting.
Time crawled by. The sun climbed higher in the sky, and Matthew could see that the cameras, dolly tracks, and other equipment had all been set up and seemed ready for the shoot.
The bearded man approached, accompanied by an older man in his fifties or sixties.
"We're starting soon, get ready!" the bearded man announced.
He glanced at the older man, who gave a nod, then shouted, "Follow what we rehearsed!"
"Get to the front!" Matthew felt a shove from behind. It was Michael. "That old guy is Ridley Scott! Move up!"
It wasn't just Michael. Many of the extras seemed to have the same idea, trying to push their way forward as if that would guarantee them a spot in the frame and a chance to impress a major director like Ridley Scott.
Michael was one of the most aggressive, using his height and strength to his advantage. He threw his shoulders into it, shoving past a guy a head shorter than him and yanking on another man's tunic to cut in front of the line ahead.
He seemed desperate to be seen by Ridley Scott.
In a matter of seconds, the crowd of extras had descended into chaos.