I can’t say I held out much hope that my application to be in the movie On Fire would come to much. Yes, the production had put out a wide call for St. Louisans to assist as extras in the film, which is based on the true story of John O’Leary, who battled back after being badly burned as a boy. But thousands had responded when just 600 or so people were needed.
And as a 67-year-old retiree, my hopes of making the cinematic cut sank down even further when radio reports said On Fire production crews had wrapped up their work weeks ago on the St. Louis University campus. Guess I missed this one.
However, fate had a different idea this time. I was dozing at the breakfast table when THE call came in from the local Joni Tackette JT Casting Agency. Did I want to go down for a potential cameo appearance as a member of the crowd at Busch Stadium?
Are you kidding? Ha, what else am I doing tomorrow?
Someone named Abby explained I’d be receiving an email with instructions later in the afternoon if I wanted to participate.
The email arrived, and after some tense moments trying to fill out an online I-9 employment form so I could officially get paid, the computer accepted my attempts to identify myself as a local human with the appropriate paperwork.
My reporting time was 7 a.m., so I parked at the Starr Lot on 8th Street near the stadium and got in line. After showing everything from my passport to my birth certificate, I joined a small group that movie staff hustled over to a massive wardrobe trailer. Production crew reps had to approve what our Cardinal gear looked like so we could be fans from the year 2017.
Friends who know me well say I need consistent help in dressing myself, but I worked hard on my Cardinal outfit the night before. My $37 south county haircut from Laurie at Great Clips looked stellar. I got a thumbs up on my remodeled beard and Cardinal accoutrements. When Ozzie Smith walked by our little neophyte group of actors, I knew it was going to be a good day.
We got a VIP transit van ride to cover the last 200 yards to the stadium on a crisp December 6 morning that promised to reach 65 by day’s end. But those internal stadium shadows sure made things chilly.
Perhaps surprisingly, there were only about 25 people cast as extras for the crowd scenes depicting the 2017 game where John O’Leary was honored by tossing out the ceremonial first pitch. Our “Crowd 2017 group,” as we were collectively called throughout the morning, would sit in the first four rows behind the home dugout. Thank goodness we would be allowed to keep our coats on until it was our turn to join the action.
In the meantime, probably like any other movie set, our job was to hurry up and wait. Eventually we’d be standing up to cheer that first pitch, but for a long while we drank coffee and made friends inside the bowels of the stadium. The frenzy of activity was fascinating to watch as dozens of local collegiate athletes and maybe minor league players dressed in Cardinal and Cubs uniforms were shuttled in and out. We were eyewitnesses to greatness.
Right about then director Sean McNamara walked in and mingled with us. There was absolutely no doubt this big burly dude was the captain of this production. And he was wearing SHORT SLEEVES. I later figured out why he did this while his staff had on winter clothing. His leading lady in our scene was freezing in a sleeveless red cocktail dress near the dugout, and there was no way he was going to ask her to stand in the cold unless he was doing it, too. I don’t know a darn thing about McNamara, but I recognize leadership when I see it.
Go time finally arrived. Back in the stands after taking our last bathroom break, the chosen 25 were arranged behind the dugout. John Corbett was in the scene and working with his screen wife and kids, and McNamara was calling “action.”
Take one was stiff and our applause was disturbing the sound equipment. So on the fly, McNamara coached us all how to “fake clap” to achieve the Hollywood magic we needed. You don’t allow your hands to make noise, they will feed that in later he told us. And, oh yeah, he noticed we all still had on our green security wristbands. We looked like a bunch of knuckleheads at a cheap concert.
“Rip off those wristbands!” No scissors required, and we obeyed our commander.
Take two went better, but there was a wide body in front of me wearing a Michael Wacha jersey. He was killing my chances to get seen, so I leaned a little left. Vanity is a many-splendored thing.
Take three was a Rembrandt, and the nice lady on my left, Mary from Warson Woods, gave me a fist bump. If we survive editing, I think we are in.
I have no idea if my three seconds of glory will stand up in the editing room, but selfishly, I really hope it does so my grandkids can smile at Grandpa sometime next Thanksgiving when the film is released.
Until then, God bless all the fine people involved in this uplifting production. Unlike a large portion of Hollywood content today, there was truly a wholesomeness on this set that you can feel, like an aura of goodness all around you.
And thanks to the payroll department for faithfully sending me my $97 for six hours of fun. You could have had me for free.
Chris Schildz is a former reporter for the St. Louis Globe-Democrat and, quite possibly, headed to a big screen near you in On Fire later this year. While Schildz is allegedly retired, his wife, three kids and two grandkids keep him employed.
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