There Are Some Who Would Not Deem That Wise

DIARY OF A CITY GUARD – PART 15

A series of irreverent tales from my experience as a Tolkien-nerd working as an extra on the first series of Amazon’s The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power television show.

It’s another big set-up for today’s scene in Númenor, another busy day with hundreds of extras. A big set-up means lots of waiting around, both on and off of set, so for now the City Guard are hanging around doing a whole lot of nuthin’. We have our own table and chairs, ready access to snacks, and a natural inclination as a group to talk rubbish for hours on end, so we’re fine. It’s funny how we all hang out in our fictional groups, e.g. guards, civilians, soldiers etc. There’s a natural bond with anyone wearing the same costume so for the most part we gravitate towards each other in this manner, much like goths or metal fans.

And I have not forgotten my promise to properly introduce you to my guardly comrades at some point, but that must wait for another time as in this instalment I would like to talk about my big moment. Or, should I say, my biggest moment so far.

But before this, a quick insight into my writing process. I tend to write stuff when I’m mildly stoned as this way – be it music or prose – I find it just sort of flows out easily of its own accord and all I have to do is hang on. But sometimes i.e. right now, I misjudge and get a little more than mildly stoned. Then I lose focus – hence this paragraph – and I get stuck in loops, writing and rewriting the same sentence ten times over or re-reading a paragraph time and time again without ever once taking it in. At this point, rather than going with the flow I am in fact now damning the river. It’s a bit of a balancing act but when it works I’m very productive. If it doesn’t work then, well, I’m enjoying myself anyway so it’s win-win.

Anyway, back to the, ahem, action.

We’ve been led out to the city street set, which I originally passed through on the way to the docks on my first day. The street meanders around a few corners over perhaps a hundred yards – I talked about it a little here – and is festooned in flowering vines. One of the ADs has told me that we’re filming a parade of soldiers marching (uh-oh) through the city, and we stand around waiting to be organised while the ADs ensure the buildings and the streets are suitably lined with civilians. When the show airs I see that this is in fact filmed as a direct continuation of the scene I talk about in the previous instalment.

Sorry, I had to stop for a snack. I’ll try and concentrate. I can do this.

As far as I can tell, they don’t seem to have a plan beyond “yeah, we’ll march the soldiers through the city”. There are some who would not deem that wise. After shuffling us around like toy soldiers for a bit, they decide that two city guards will lead the way, followed by seven or eight pairs of soldiers, another pair of city guards, then more soldiers etc. I’m disappointed not to be at the front, but this turns out to be a good thing, as the first scene is going to be shooting action in the middle of the parade. As it transpires, myself and fellow guard Mick are standing just behind a hitherto unrecognised cast member.

And it is by this means that I discover I am in fact standing next to the legendary Isildur, son of Elendil, future High King of Arnor and Gondor, bane of Sauron. Well well, this is an interesting development. As yet I’ve only been able to put a name to Galadriel, Míriel and Pharazôn, so I’m thrilled to find another clue as to what the show is about. I am slightly struggling with the dichotomy of standing there as a huge Tolkien fan/Guard of Númenor on a great set in entirely convincing costumes next to the mighty Isildur – while also being just a middle-aged dude standing next to a shorter slimmer younger dude I don’t recognise, surrounded by cameras and people with walkie-talkies. It’s very weird.

The shorter slimmer younger dude playing Isildur is of course Maxim Baldry and I do in fact realise later that I recognise him from the 2019 movie Last Christmas which, for the record, is my absolute favourite Christmas movie.

Isildur is one of the rank-and-file soldiers and is part of the march, and the scene involves a woman shouting his name, desperate to get his attention, from the side of the road. I presumed this must be a love interest for young Isildur, although it later proved to be his sister. Isildur’s distinct lack of a sister in the books meant I did not consider this at the time.

Ooh, I nearly forgot to tell you about the second coming of Dick. Remember the soldier from the previous instalment who got kicked off set for being an idiot? Well he’s back, he’s in the parade, and yes, he’s being an idiot! My attention is drawn by an AD who is getting ever more frustrated with a guy – who I recognise immediately as Dick – who isn’t walking the way she’s telling him to walk. That is to say, she’s telling him to walk like a disciplined soldier and he’s swaggering like he’s Liam fooking Gallagher from Oasis. After the third offence, whether due to an inability to walk normally, a belligerent refusal to have his artistic choices censored, or just an innate dickness, our old pal is once again banished from the set. I don’t see him again.

The scene done, we convene for a break. Then it’s marching time again. Even with the small sections we filmed earlier, the task of getting rows of people to all walk in time was not proving as easy as it sounds although to be honest I’m not sure it actually sounds easy, but some people who may or may not be involved with this show clearly think it does and, well, there were timing problems. Lots of people either bunching up or stretching out, like some weird human accordion – no, that’s a stupid analogy and oh god no, now I’m imagining another sort of human accordion entirely and it is truly awful and frankly I think it’s well past time I wrapped this sentence up and moved on. This time we were filming the march down the whole street from start to finish, so it promised to be a challenging scene. I pitied the people who would have to lead the march.

“Okay, you two, you’re at the front. Come with me”

D’oh.

Mick and I follow the AD back to the entrance to the street and we’re positioned next to each other on our marks and she tells us what’s going to happen. This is our big moment, We’re going to be leading the soldiers through the streets which in terms of screen time sounds like a bit of a gift and I’m actually rather excited about this. On the flip side these soldiers have already proven what little sense of rhythm they have on several recent occasions. The pressure is on Mick and myself to set off together in time and keep a steady pace, and then hope that everyone else can somehow not fuck it up. Each take must cost thousands of dollars, so you don’t want a couple of useless extras screwing it up. While a stream of soldiers and guards is moved into position behind us, snaking out of the set through the lot and into the car park, Mick and I discuss how we’re going to do this and exactly how much we’re now shitting our pants.

After a short panic followed by a couple of aborted practice starts, my inner musician wakes up and says just count it in ya dickhead, so Mick and I agree a four-count and then left foot forward and we’re away. We do a surprisingly competent job of leading in the end, and one of the bonuses of discussing stuff like this with the ADs and then doing a good job is that they remember this, and subsequently will know you by name and come to you when another scene comes up that needs something a bit more than the usual standing around in the background.

Sidebar – those of you who have seen the show will know that the soldiers I have been referring to are in fact the Númenórean cavalry. I have not referred to them as cavalry because at the time I did not know this. After all they weren’t on horses. They only had a few horses all up. Perhaps they could have shared the horses, but this seems both unlikely and ineffective, and tactically suicidal. Perhaps I should check with Bret Devereaux from A Collection of Unmitigated Pedantry for real historical examples of this.

As we lead the march for a practice run through, things are getting eerily familiar. The civilians lining the street are cheering us on, offering us gifts, throwing flowers and petals at our feet. The mood is celebratory, but the scene undoubtedly calls back to Jackson’s Return of the King, where Faramir leads his company of cavalry (and I know those guys were cavalry because they’re ON FRICKIN HORSES) through the city for a pointless assault on Osgiliath. The mood there is sombre, and everyone there knows they’re all going to die. I, on the other hand, can be seen smiling and laughing with the folk of the city, safe in the knowledge that while these soldiers may well be going to their deaths, I’m not. While they’re fighting overseas I will be lazing around drinking ale with my feet up. After all, my boss is away leading the army. Cavalry. Whatever.

My heart is pumping as we film it for real. I so don’t want to fuck this up, and everyone is watching us – but only three takes and we’re done! Absolute professionals, Mick and I. To our delight, when the show aired this scene featured a shot of our feet, marching in perfect time at the head of the column…

And just to top things off, the promotional picture that Amazon released for the episode was this shot below of us in our moment of glory. Yeah baby!