Here's a question that often surfaces whenever the topic of discussion is "the movies" and someone needs an ice breaker question. If you could be any character in any movie, whom would you be? An action hero like Indiana Jones? A romantic lead like Ilsa or Rick from Casablanca? Someone noble like Atticus Finch?
Not me. I want to be a Honky Horn Guy.
You've seen these musicians in every historical epic ever made. They stand there in the background, looking snappy in their ornate uniforms and big, snazzy hats (they always get the best hats). They have the ultimate in job security. Archdukes and senators can get their heads lopped off left and right, but even the maddest monarch never bothers with the Honky Horn Guys. And best of all, their job is about as easy as it gets. These things aren't trumpets or saxophones or something that takes actual talent to play. As near as I can tell, it's strictly a case of "put your lips on it and blow." Caesar approaches! Do do do do do WAAAAAA! His majesty will now pronounce his verdict! Do do do do do WAAAAAA! So let it be written, so let it be done! Do do do do do WAAAAAA!
I can do that.
If there aren't any openings in the Honky Horn Corps (and that's gotta be a job in high demand), then I'm willing to settle for Palace Mumbler. These folks never seem to have anything to say right out loud until the trend of current events becomes clear. Then ever-so-softly they speak the collective mind. Moses is being dragged away in chains to be exiled to Sinai? Someone has to stand there muttering "Do not look upon him" or "Traitor to Pharaoh" while he slowly makes his exit. Cecil B. DeMille was especially fond of these folks. So fond, indeed, that every once in awhile he'd give such a person an actual line to deliver.
If I could be just one of these one-line wonders, it would have to be the Captain of the Guard from The Ten Commandments. When they're evicting Dathan The Chief Hebrew Overseer (Edward G. Robinson) from his house, Dathan naturally wants to know where he and the rest of the Israelites are going. "To hell, I hope!" is the guard's only reply. Oh to have le mot juste come so trippingly to my tongue and be able to utter it without fear of consequences!
On a related career path, one of the cushiest jobs in moviedom is Castle Guard for the Wicked Witch of the West. Sharp-looking uniform. Bad-ass halberd. And the job description apparently consists of "march up and down chanting oo-ee-oo-ee-oo-oo." I mean, their employer is a witch for crying out loud. It's not like she needs any actual guarding. Maybe throw yourself between her and a bucket of water every once in awhile. But that's it.
Working for a witch naturally raises a more general question about the benefits and drawbacks of playing for the wrong team. For example, the easiest job in the Star Wars series is the Imperial henchman who follows Darth Vader around and cleans up the bodies of the dudes he mind-strangles. Someone pisses Vader off, he Forces them to death, and out come the guys in black uniforms to cart off the corpse. Talk about a cushy detail. The only trick is to make sure to store up your leave and take it right before the rebels blow up the Death Star.
Another good way to avoid heavy duty is to be a character in a crowd scene directed by someone who can't do crowd scenes. The next time you're watching Scarface, keep an eye on the "energetic" participants in the riot scene in the beginning. My personal favorite – my movie job role model – is the one who lackadaisically waves his arms like a member of order Mustelidae and then quits entirely once the actors with lines make it past him.
Perhaps I could combine the pursuit of lassitude with my childhood ambition to be a spy. Obviously being James Bond or Jack Ryan isn't in the cards, but heroes like them have a need for people like me. As the bad stuff goes down and the protagonist is out in the field battling the forces of evil, back at HQ the head of Central Intelligence / MI-6 / Mossad / whatever stands around nervously monitoring the mission's progress. And in the background they always have a hearty compliment of men and women in suits who do nothing but look intense and mumble things to one another.
Given the circumstances, one could be forgiven for assuming that whatever they're saying must be of great importance. But then I used to think the same thing about mound conferences in baseball. When the manager walks slowly to the center of the field to have a brief palaver with a struggling pitcher, I always figured that out there where the fans can't hear he's drawing some brilliant parallel between the Athenian victory over Xerxes at Salamis and the importance of keeping the runner close at first. But after actually hearing audio recorded during some of these mound trips, I note that they tend to be more like "Hey, Mike. Everything going okay?" "Yeah sure, Ed." "Okay then, go get 'em."
I'll bet the Spy Movie HQ Mumblers are doing the same thing. Sure, they look like they're hashing out the details of bringing NATO's nuclear arsenal to bear in the event of mission failure. But if the boom mic accidentally drifted in their direction, all we'd learn is where they're going for pizza after work.
Every once in a rare while I wake up on the right side of the bed and sally forth into the world looking to actually accomplish something. And when such a rare mood strikes me, the movie job I want is Prosecuting Attorney in a Tense Courtroom Drama. For starters, these folks are almost always smart and almost always cynical. On a good day I can a mange that. But the real attraction of the job is the moral stance. After years of watching the Royals play the Yankees, I've become thoroughly convinced that being right is more important than winning.
And that's the prosecutor's job description in a nutshell. No matter haw talented or intelligent she is, the DA is going to lose to the wily defense lawyer. Ah, but the final twist more often than not is that the defendant really was a vicious psychopath whose acquittal places innocent lives at risk. If only that stupid jury had listened to me ...
However, if I could really be one movie character, one guy who would be cool and fun rather than merely easy, I'd pick Kyuzo the master swordsman from The Seven Samurai. This guy is the ultimate Feudal Japanese badass. He's the best at what he does – which just happens to be killing bad guys – and he never loses his total sense of calm and control. Never draws his sword unless he has to, but when he does things are usually over quickly. If a mad scientist somehow gene-spliced Bruce Lee and Mr. Spock and then endlessly drilled his creation in kenjitsu, Kyuzo is what you'd get.
For that I'd even be willing to give up my dream of joining the Honky Horn ranks.
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