Background Actresses

*All conversations published have gained the consent of speakers.

          In the July after my sophomore year, fascinated by the entertainment industry, I craved to interact with the culture myself. For the price of finishing my SAT prep over the summer, my parents agreed to pull a few strings to send me onto a film set in Ningbo, China. Fully prepared with my undercover guise as a “college costume intern,” I arrived at my three-week investigation. Despite a slightly rocky start—being ignored repeatedly—my situation changed when I hung out with the leading actors by coincidence on the fifth day. People were finally speaking to me; I was feeling pretty confident. It’s not even that bad, I thought to myself. What were all the online people complaining about? Heck, even the noodles are decent.

          A squad of three background actresses in school uniform costumes approached me during lunch one day. “Ah… Can I ask you for a favor?” the one with a pink headband asked, fidgeting with her fingers nervously.

        “Sure. What’s up?” No one had approached me here before.

        “Are you, like, close to Huang Yi?” another girl asked.

        Case solved. The guy they were talking about was the male leading actor, a young celebrity our age. I wasn’t very familiar with him but had become good friends with the lead actress. Trying to keep my cool, I remarked cautiously, “Not quite, but I can probably talk to him if needed.”

        They asked me if I could get his autograph. Realizing that I was open to talking, all three girls sat down at the table. They were just as curious about me as I was about them. After half an hour, they became more comfortable with me.

        “He is so hot,” Pink Headband was gushing directly across from me. “Handsome guys like him need to post more pictures on social media. Did I tell you about his hands? I was standing behind another person when they were shooting the bridge scene. His fingers are so white and so long, like bamboo.” She accentuated every single ‘so,’ elongating it to sound like sighing. Her eyes glittered with classic teenage excitement.

        The other two joined in to compliment the young leading actor’s facial and physical attributes, weaving in similes of gorgeous objects and intricate desserts as parts of their ode. Fangirls brainwashed by the sugarcoat of entertainment companies. I had seen them in documentaries, chasing after celebrities like maniacs and defending idols arrested for tax evasion. Tenth-grade me considered it quite pitiful for someone to worship another person like this.

        “Well, why don’t you go up and talk to him?” I asked.

        The pony-tailed girl next to me replied in a less excited tone, “He’s the leading actor. For us, standing from a distance and watching him is enough.” 

        “Don’t listen to her!” Pink Headband exclaimed. “Personally, I would totally like to get as close as possible, but we are extras. I get that you’re new to the industry. Still, haven’t you heard about the industry rules at all anywhere else? Are all college interns this clueless?” 

        “Well, I do want to hear your perception, too,” I told her, confused. I don’t think I broke any rules… Did I? There were rumors I had heard about in documentaries and online narratives that the Chinese entertainment industry had a strict hierarchy. In my experience so far, I didn’t think there was one. The first few days were probably bad luck—the Chinese are often closed off.

        The last girl spoke up. “Whoever taught you didn’t do a very good job then, if you don’t even know about the basic rules. We cannot talk to anyone in the crew but other extras.”

        “Not even tech guys? The costume department members?”

She stared at me like I was oblivious. “No, of course not. They are regular cast members. Don’t you see that they don’t even eat here with us?”

        The slightly bitter undertone of the noodles started to surface on the tip of my tongue. I put down my chopsticks. “Then I’m guessing that the producer and all the regular actors are off-limits then.” How naive have I been? No wonder people looked at me weirdly and walked away when I approached them first.

        “No, the head extra told us specifically not to disturb these people. They are very busy with each of their jobs,” Pink Headband answered.

        ‘Head extra’ was entertainment industry slang for the extra-recruiter. They wouldn’t appear in the show, yet they had real power in deciding who got closer to the camera and would, therefore, be paid better. I thought of the man they referred to, whom I had glimpsed bursting into laughter at the vulgar Mandarin phrase ‘jijiwaiwai.’ This perfect yet inappropriate example translates to gossiping about someone; in literal terms, it means a man with distorted private parts.

        I could not imagine anyone leaving the comforts of their own household to endure this sort of treatment. I voiced my confusion, receiving three almost identical answers. For these girls who reached working age in the past two school years—one sixteen and the others seventeen—all were needed to support their struggling families. The only jobs that would take them as temporary workers were store clerks and background actresses. “Clerking is way too boring,” they griped in unison. “At least here we get to see celebrities all the time.” The paychecks, no less shocking, were seventy-five yuan a day. And because they were underage, recruiters gave them even less. This is equivalent to standing in the sun for ten dollars every eight hours while being potentially abused by adult bosses. My face flamed with embarrassment while the girls kept talking; I was incredibly ashamed of how I thought of them. I could not have lasted in that sort of environment for two days without going home and complaining. 

        “I have never been outside Ningbo,” Pink Headband told me. “It must be wonderful to travel around China.” The longing, dreamy stares into space when she talked about Huang Yi appeared again on her face. I was speechless. When I thought of the girls as fangirls without critical thinking skills who blindly followed trends, I had no idea how privileged I was with the opportunities American education had gifted me. Those glowing idols, capable of influencing millions, perhaps embodied the projections of the teenagers’ own hopes and dreams they didn’t think they could achieve. Who was I to defy that?

        We walked out of the cafeteria. The sun, though blindingly bright, cast an almost white glow on the schoolyard. As we crossed the bridge, the water glittered with the hint of a breeze. Untended greenery beside the riverbank seemed to droop a little from the raging sunlight. It grew wildly and yet unnoticed. Near the school buildings, we arrived at a small patch of brilliantly colored pansies. Despite the heat, the flowers retained their vividness, almost as if they were competing against the sun to catch the observer’s eye. It was obvious that they were well-cared for; drops of water shone on their tender petals, which stretched out into relaxed postures. 

        “Why don’t we take a walk? It’s so nice outside,” I suggested. 

        Pink Headband looked nervous. “We’ll be late for the shooting. The director will get mad, and then the head extra will, too. I don’t want to get fired,” she quieted down. The other girls didn’t speak either. I could see the other extras swarming back into the auditorium, a fluid landscape of blinding whiteness. They did wear identical uniforms, after all. 

        Inside the auditorium, we came face-to-face with the rage of the head extra. Screeching at the top of his lungs because the girls lacked ‘discipline,’ he ordered in a fury for them to tell him why they were disturbing me, being perceptive enough to realize that they likely wanted my help to get closer to the leading actor. Despite not being the subject of his anger, I froze in fear. How could an adult man treat underage girls like this in a working environment? How could anyone? What if your siblings got treated like this? Your kids? My mind was spinning with so many questions, and I was so angry that I wanted to yell back at him. Instead, I took a deep breath and walked outside to calm myself. The girls didn’t follow.

       Yet I was free to go.

        From then on, I have been much kinder to people I haven’t fully gotten to know, realizing that people acting in ways that I wasn’t comfortable with also have backstories I didn’t have a clue about. Each of us was struggling in our own way; I began complaining less about my unfortunate past. Devoid of my judgmental mindset, I was surprised and pleased to discover that every person around me had so many interesting thoughts to share. Besides making me immensely happier and more outgoing, this new view also sparked an intense interest in social science: I’m now always excited to meet new people and curious to see what makes them click.