As a background actor, there are a few tricks to mimic real conversation. Saying “rhubarb” and “peas and carrots” are my go-tos. Something about the range of mouth shapes makes it look like real dialogue on camera.
This went on all day. 6:00 AM call time. 7:30 PM wrap. For a 30-second scene that ultimately got cut. And just like that...the end of my background acting career. One or two roles shy of SAG-AFTRA (You may also recognize me from my breakout role as Party Guest #32 in Gossip Girl, Season 3, Episode 18 “Dorota’s wedding.”)
At any given moment, there are dozens of productions shooting across New York City. Entire blocks shut down, storefronts transformed, trailers and craft services, background actors in Gilded Age garb. Filming here generates about $2 billion annually and supports around 185,000 jobs across the state. But more than just the money, it brings a pulse of creativity that becomes part of the fabric of the city.
And that’s part of the magic of New York. Turn a corner and you might find yourself on the set of your favorite show, or better yet, starring in your own.
Because New York is a city full of main characters.
Manhattanites strutting down Fifth Avenue to their own soundtrack, convinced this is their moment. Commuting to work with Let the River Run by Carly Simon or Suddenly I See by KT Tunstall playing like their personal score. Waiting for the next “meet-cute” where they cross dog leashes in the park, reach for the same gloves at Bloomingdale’s, or fight over the same cab and end up sharing it uptown… to their bedroom.*
*If you can name all the movie & TV references, I’ll give you a prize.
We all have our main character moments. I had two this morning (one of them was writing this). I’m a firm believer you need a certain level of delusion to make it in this city. That you’re meant to be here. The pull toward the bright lights, like a moth to a flame. That’s what keeps people here. Because it’s certainly not the cost of living.
To quote Fran Lebowitz: “No one can afford to live in New York. Yet eight million people do. How do we do this? We don’t know. Except you do know that you have contempt for people who don’t have the guts to do it.”
Whether it’s guts or delusion, real estate especially brings out that main character motivation in everyone.
Buying or selling here is a production as much as it is a transaction, which means I end up playing director, producer and, most importantly, location scout. I set the scene, adjust for lighting, timing, even weather. Because no one is making a decision based on square footage alone, it’s how a space feels the second you walk in.
Homes with a strong sense of arrival always win. A white glove building. A curb cut. A grand lobby with a beloved doorman. A quiet block. That moment when you step out of the car and feel like you’ve arrived.
And then there’s the other part of it. Marketing. The first showing is almost never in person. It’s online. Or in the case of New York… it’s on TV. There are seemingly dozens of reality shows focused on New York City real estate.
Having worked with Ryan Serhant for five years and Mauricio Umansky for three, I’m not exactly a stranger to reality TV. (I’ve had my own brief appearances in the Bravoverse. RHONY, Million Dollar Listing, Summer House.) Like I said… main character delusion.
Filming reality, in reality, is never as glamorous as it looks. Long days, a lot of waiting, a lot of takes, and most of it ends up on the cutting room floor. But real estate is one of the few industries where being on television can actually translate into business, especially when the property becomes part of the storyline.
Because of an NDA the size of my head, I have to be careful here, but I was once hired to help a very well-known TV personality find an apartment. I had the perfect tour lined up...a penthouse, a loft, and a townhouse, each completely different and special in their own way.
We started at the Soho loft. She arrived right on time with an entire team, publicist, “friend of,” assistant, security. Quite the entourage. The loft was special. Wide open floor plan, exposed beams and brick… but she barely smiled. Too low. Not enough natural light.
Next, the Tribeca penthouse. The apartment was as striking as she was… yet she remained unenthused. Not a fit. Floor-to-ceiling windows. Zero protection. Too much natural light.
Last up, the townhouse. The natural light Goldilocks zone. Just the right amount of sunlight with north/south exposure over four floors. I waited outside the house for her alongside the listing agent. Thirty minutes went by, then forty. “Any minute now,” I said, less convincingly by the minute.
Then suddenly, three SUVs pulled up. Hers, plus two more. A full camera crew. We were ambushed. The listing agent looked at me like I had orchestrated it.
They entered and filmed the entire tour. My main character went from mildly sedated to fully animated as soon as the cameras started rolling. Thoughtful questions, funny banter, she even got into the bathtub to test the size and show how quirky she was!
Then—CUT. Cameras off. Equipment powered down (and so did she.) They exited just as quickly. Back into the SUVs and off into the night. But before she left, she gave me a smile and a kiss on the cheek, “thank you, you were lovely.”
A few minutes later, someone from her team came around with waivers. She had no intention of buying anything. It was just a storyline. The seller was furious. Refused to sign. Eventually, after a sizable check, he did.
And in the end, the exposure didn’t hurt. The apartment sold not long after, at a very strong number. Maybe it did have just the right light (at least on camera).
Unfortunately for me, I was not a part of that deal. But you can’t win them all. Sometimes you’re the main character, other times you’re just in the background, saying “peas and carrots” to move the scene along.
But that’s New York. A city of main characters, set against a backdrop of iconic locations and very well-dressed extras.
And if you’re feeling your own main character moment look no further than...
