Life imitating art of Los 39, minus the bloodshed

@wwaycorrigan

[For an audio/vlog version of this story, click here.]

There are few things I like better than getting on a bus — or, more rarely as is the case, an aeroplane — for an escape from my routine and normal, everyday surrounds.

We could all do with more beaches and fewer bitches in our lives.

It's something I've been able to do with regularity over the last few years in Colombia. The relative independence that comes with not having a full-time job, coupled with singlehood, has helped me to do this.

My adopted country's size — it's about 16 times larger than Ireland — and its fairly decent bus network from my Bogotá base helps as well. That Bogotá is the base is significant, in terms of both connectivity and my wanting to frequently take a break from it.

If I were based, say, in San Luis de Gaceno or, from where I currently write these lines, Palomino, my desire to regularly travel would probably be greatly reduced. Such outposts are, understandably enough, less connected than the capital. Plus, with my current mindset, I'd be happier to stay for protracted periods in them than in bustling Bogotá.

One aspect of such escapes that I particularly enjoy is my doing it alone. Solo sojourns. Indeed, as I age, I find that I've become more comfortable at shunning activities, events, and people that, instinctively, I'm sure will just annoy me.

As I put it in Paths to cleaner living, I'm more in the jomo (joy of missing out) camp than fomo (fear of missing out) one these days, especially when it comes to socialising of the raucous revelling variety.

Play the game

So the idea of a getaway with a big group of lads excites me as much as giving English classes to beginners.

Thus, despite the obvious upsides of a generously subsidised trip, with pay, to Colombia's Caribbean coast, I could see the downsides of having to spend an indefinite period in the company of and working with previously unknown people, predominantly men. I would, to borrow from the poet Henry Newbolt, have to 'Play up! play up! and play the game!'

And play the game is apt here. Seeing as how the gig was an acting one made up of renowned professionals from Spain, journeymen, wannabes and, the category that best describes me, amateurs-by-accident — super extras in this case — there was much subterfuge. While women tend to take much of the flak for being spiteful gossipers, the boys can be just as bitchy as the girls.

'Either the production team had a change of heart or the guy who told me this was talking horse manure from the start.'

It was the wannabes and amateurs-by-accident whom I got to know best. I was in the same hotel as some of them and we also spent many hours waiting around on set during the weeks of filming. (Hours waiting around on set is standard, especially, although not exclusively, for big-budget productions with complex scenes and fastidious — as the best probably are — directors.)

From previous but far shorter involvement in productions, I'd experienced the tendency for some of these minor players to think they're bigger than they are. They behave as if they are directors whilst the reality is they are merely minions. Witnessing this sporadically is somewhat humorous. However, dealing with it on an almost daily basis is more of a headache.

Now, at the risk of making myself out to be bigger than I am — but do see my captivating cameo in Narcos, to name just one of my dazzling performances — such on-set behaviour is like a below-average student telling his more astute classmates that they need to up their performance levels. The best strategy is to ignore this noise, which I figure comes from some deep insecurity. It can be hard not to bark back at times, all the same.

One comes to expect this pathetic acting up on set. But it wasn't left there.

At breakfast in our hotel one morning, a Bogotá-born colleague who had, he seemed to think anyway, the ear of the production's decision-makers, informed me that a member of our group was going to be sent home prematurely because his behaviour was annoying some of the more important crew members. This didn't happen.

So either the production team had a change of heart or the guy who told me this was talking horse manure from the start. I suspect it was the latter, especially considering the informant's on-set conduct, portraying himself as a know-it-all.

This insidious — I say insidious for I believe it was said to me to create further divisions — as opposed to idle gossip came after a rift in the group of eight of us who travelled on the same flight from Bogotá for the initial bout of filming.

Such splits are common when a disparate group is assembled. Indeed, the series we were filming, Los 39, has splits galore — and plenty of gore — as it tells the story, with much artistic licence no doubt, of the 39 sailors left behind by Christopher Columbus in 1492 on the island of what today is called Hispaniola.

So that divisions, minus the bloodshed albeit, emerged in our real-life group of actors is far from shocking. True to form, none of the groupings appealed much to me. I wasn't too bothered about trying to fit in with any of them in any case.

To restate, I'm quite content doing my own thing. So once I'd fulfilled my contractual obligations i.e. done what I had to do on set, I was happy to be left to my own devices.

The quiet man

There were, though, those in that group of eight with whom I connected. One was an easy-going Italian. That we were two of what I believe were just three non-native Spanish speakers employed by the production helped create a bond.

Yet, as a smoker, he was pulled, against his better judgement, into the orbit of a 50-something-year-old, Bogotá-based Spaniard who seems determined to silence silence — he just doesn't shut up. To make this worse, it's like he wants to be heard in his native land with each utterance. And he can't seem to do anything independently: 'We should do this. We should do that. We should go there.'

In his defence, there appears to be no malice in him. Nor is he pretentious, unlike the gossiping Bogotano mentioned earlier.

Nonetheless, much noise often comes from those with little genuine to say or show. I apply that to both the Bogotano and the Spaniard, even though they wouldn't like to be grouped together.

In contrast, the principal actors, from the brief interactions I had with them, came across as affable. And while I would have been very happy to receive suggestions and/or advice from them during filming, they rarely commented. I guess they were focused on their roles, as one would expect. I suspect they are fairly secure in themselves, too.

Also, considering acting is their profession, when the cameras aren't rolling they probably enjoy just being themselves. Some of the wannabes would do well to follow suit.

As for my preference for shunning contrived social gatherings, let's just say I'm readying myself to play the lead role in Hollywood's remake of The Quiet Man. I await the call.
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The pernicious pull of the black hole that is film & TV

@wwaycorrigan

[For an audio/vlog version of this story, click here.]

'Don't bite the hand that feeds you.'

It makes a lot of sense. Damage the relationship with those who give you sustenance, in whatever form, and hardship is likely to ensue.

Cognitive dissonance: Brendan 'Wrong Way' Corrigan gets miked up for a minor TV series role.

Sometimes, however, we may be doing both ourselves and society at large a favour by not only biting that gifting hand but devouring the whole body.

A harming hand

Imagine if, in 1941, Blondi had consumed the hands, head and heart of her loving master. OK, contemplating counterfactual histories opens the door to numerous alternative probabilities but surely a world that rid itself of Adolf Hitler in the early 1940s would be a better place today. Surely.

A world without showbiz, though, would be a culturally poorer place, and a whole lot duller, wouldn't it?

Whatever one's opinion, the film and TV industry has become so entrenched in our daily lives that few can envisage a normal, nay liveable, life without it.

And seeing how this industry has been one of my most reliable forms of income over the last number of years, I more than most shouldn't be nefariously nibbling at its paying palms.

Nonetheless, I've called out its inconsistencies and inequalities before. For example, see, Enticing extras: The siren call of our times and Agents of short-change.

Flights of fancy

This time, I'm focusing on the film world's substantial carbon footprint.

It's something that I'm adding to as I write these lines, having been flown, twice, over 1000 km north of Bogotá to Santa Marta, whence I was chauffeured about 90 km east to the Caribbean coast town of Palomino to play a minor role in a new Spanish production.

Those flights, particularly the mid-filming return to Bogotá for four nights, really got me thinking about the excessive energy needs and waste for which this industry is responsible.

From a mere budgeting perspective — who cares about financial prudence these days, eh? — had the production company given me the cost of that return flight back to Bogotá, I could have used the money more wisely, and reduced my carbon footprint in the process, by staying in one of Palomino's budget hotels/hostels until I was needed on-set again.

I've seen private rooms advertised for 30,000 COP per night. That's decent value in a town that has become quite touristy over the last few years. It was more tranquil and less trodden when I first visited in 2013 (see https://wwcorrigan.blogspot.com/2013/08/palomino-and-cabo-de-la-vela-lighter.html).

For the record, rooms at the beachfront hotel resort where the production company put me up, Hukumeizi, range from about 300,000 to 600,000 COP per night.

'Viewed from a distance, the film and TV industry may appear full of stars. Yet, up close, it's more like a big black hole.'

As a relevant aside considering the theme of this piece, Hukumeizi's claim that some of its rooms are ecological is rather questionable. The bathrooms in said ecological rooms are so lacking in natural light that one has to turn on the artificial lights during the day to see properly. What's more, the hotel's policy appears to be to force guests into buying water from small plastic bottles. How ecologically benign that is!

Coming back to those flights, I was just one of over a dozen such Colombian-based actors — I'm using the label actor lightly for me here — who were flown back to their base mid-filming.

In addition to our transport to and from Santa Marta's airport, another van was used to carry our luggage. Keep those carbon emissions flowing, folks!

This is not to mention all the flights to and from Spain transporting both equipment and personnel.

Hungry stars

Then there's the filming of the series itself. It involved over 300 staff, all of whom had to be fed and watered — 300 ml plastic water bottles being the preference on set — and most, apart from locally sourced extras, had to be housed.

Add in the not-very-natural make-up used to mimic everyday dirt — a lot was needed for a series set in the 1490s, as this is — plus the chemicals used to remove this make-up, and the waste tab becomes considerable.

And one must ask, all this for what? What net benefit does it give to humanity?

OK, for me it has provided a badly needed income and a rather surreal, pleasurable experience. And I imagine that when the series airs, millions will enjoy it.

But surely the energy expended in this production could be put to a more beneficial use for both humanity and the environment in general.

There's also the argument that such high-cost productions give little back to the viewer. They're flashy and slick yet not very fine or stimulating. Easy on the eye but with little educational value. Some, however, view such opinions as arrogant and ignorant. It's a nuanced debate.

Voracious vanity

Whatever one's thoughts on the end product, it cannot be denied that it comes at a huge cost on many levels. A Time magazine article published in March 2024 says that large productions such as Barbie or Oppenheimer can emit up to 3,370 tonnes of CO2 equivalents, enough to power 656 homes for a year. One assumes that's referring to homes in high-income nations.

Advancements in artificial intelligence should help production companies reduce these costs while still delivering visually impressive content. AI can be a positive force, in some areas.

As for the living, breathing thespian talent, there's always live theatre to separate the true actors from the pretenders. There are no second takes — never mind third, fourth or fifth ones — once the curtain's up.

So society at large could do worse than appreciate more so the live stage rather than the big and small screens.

For viewed from a distance, the film and TV industry may appear full of stars. Yet, up close, it's more like a big black hole.

Having been pulled into it, I can see its voracious vanity. Yes, it occasionally feeds me. But at what price?
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