Buzz
Extras at Hengdian, mostly from small towns and rural areas, driven by livelihood or aspirations for fame.
Last October, a short video by a group of retired women reenacting scenes from the popular TV series The Story of Yanxi Palace went viral on Chinese social media. Viewers were impressed by the meticulous attention to detail, lavish costumes, and makeup, as well as the passion for the original.
The scenes were shot at Hengdian World Studios, the largest film studio in China, located in Jiangnan City, Zhejiang Province. With around 4,000 RMB (over 13.5 million VND) per person, anyone can recreate their favorite period drama scenes here, even offering costume rental, makeup services, and photography.
This place is also the livelihood of many actors who appear in numerous films but remain nameless. They are the extras. Despite their faint presence and 'decorative' nature in the film, these supporting roles are an integral part of Hengdian's success. Like retired ladies paying for their own reenacted episodes, many dream of becoming nationwide sensations one day.
The Instability of Being an Extra at Hengdian
The Daily Struggle: Lives of Extras at Hengdian Film Studio
In the era of short videos, many extras turn to platforms like Bilibili to document their lives as background actors, flight attendants, or service staff for big stars. One of the most famous among them, Tưởng Văn Hoa, captures daily life in Hengdian.
In a highly-viewed video, he and his girlfriend share a day playing beggars in a new TV series. Dressed in tatters, they talk about acting alongside China's big stars. On TV, they're just faint faces in the crowd, but on Bilibili, they're stars in their own right.
In reality, few care where these supporting characters come from or what their lives are like off-screen. Extras at Hengdian mostly come from small towns and rural areas. Some pursue this profession out of passion for performance; others think they can escape poverty by becoming actors. Some come to expand their handicraft business on Taobao. Many sign up to be part of the 'nameless actor' group to earn extra income because they don't know what else to do.
Every evening in their shared rented dorms, they stare at their phone screens, waiting for casting calls for the next day. The demand for extras fluctuates daily, and those who don't quickly sign up or aren't lucky enough to be chosen by the studios lose out on income for a day or more.
Despite low wages and uncertain schedules, extras must accept any role offered. They gather at predetermined hours before the main actors so the film crew can shoot crowd scenes. When production extends into the night, these supporting actors often work through the night into the morning, if not completely exhausted, they may transition straight into another scene the next morning.
Special individuals adept at blending in or building relationships in Hengdian stay long enough to secure contracts with production companies for long-term or even irregular acting roles. These gigs pay significantly higher than regular odd jobs, ranging from a few hundred to several thousand RMB per day.
Becoming the star in their own 'film' they create
Even the most successful extras are hindered by financial instability. During the 'off-season,' typically from November to February, many of them leave Hengdian to seek other job opportunities.
Some never return. Others set up temporary roadside stalls or take factory jobs while waiting for film crews to return. The pandemic has brought a 'bleak winter' to the Chinese film and television industry, further destabilizing the lives of extras in Hengdian.
For those who remain, creating short videos is a way to pass the time, garner attention, and earn a little extra money. Some of these bloggers almost create similar content themes. Khương Văn Hoa uses his channel as a sort of diary to document and even satirize the 'volatile' lifestyle of people like him.
In the process, they turn the instability of being extras into creative inspiration and productivity. Another person even masters basic filmmaking and editing skills to direct and act in a music video with their fellow extras.
As one of the most famous extra-turned-bloggers, Tưởng Văn Hoa boasts over 30,000 subscribers on Bilibili. This success brings him significant income and serves as a channel for casting directors to notice him and his peers. It's also a source of morale support and positive feedback in an often overlooked industry.
But the short video careers of these background characters aren't always smooth sailing. Another extra, known as 'Striving Song,' came under fire for a video where he candidly shared his struggles with debts totaling hundreds of RMB after a failed business venture and planned to repay them by acting as a middleman among extras. After facing backlash, 'Striving Song' returned to his hometown, posting videos about rural life for his 1,400 followers.
In reality, despite years in the industry, most temporary extras lack the resources or secrets to create compelling videos like financially secure retirees. Yet in their short videos, regardless of success, extras ultimately get to feel like stars in the very 'films' they create.
They may never be remembered, but in short clips lasting a few minutes, they assert control over their lives, attract followers, and understand the significance of dedicating themselves to an industry often seen as extracurricular roles.
Source: Sixthtone
