Spotlight on Actors OFF the Stage: Amy Lewis

A Note from the Editor:

This new Spotlight on… series will feature members of StageMagazineOnline.com that have some experience working on Hollywood productions.  My hope is that aspiring actors will find inspiration in the stories that are shared here, and get answers to their questions about how to get this type of work.  And of course, I hope everyone will find these as entertaining as I do. Please let me hear from you if YOU have a story we should publish. Contact Me Here! Kate

The Not-So-Italian Stallion

As a Philadelphia native, there are a few things I hold sacredly: Butterscotch Krimpets, Action News, the right to do the Mummers’ Strut wherever and whenever I see fit and, of course, Rocky.  Like many Philadelphians, though, I chuckled with disbelief upon hearing that the franchise, which we all assumed had gone its final round, was coming back for more. Rocky Balboa?! Are you serious?!

So when Sly Stallone and his fanfare came to town, I more or less dismissed it as the swan song of an action hero from days past and went about my daily business. I had recently taken running back up and, like any good Philadelphian living within proximity of the Art Museum, finished my run at the top of those steps made famous by Rocky so many years ago (sans silly dance, of course – after all, I’m not a tourist!).

On one such run, I found myself being flagged down by a woman I did not know as I struggled to make it up the iconic stairs.  As a runner, I have grown accustomed to people trying to ask me questions or seeking directions from me before others, since I apparently seem to be in no hurry. I treated her with my usual disdainful dismissal and finished my run the way I intended.

As I recovered, panting and puffing from the exertion, the same woman came running over to me. “Good Lord, she’s determined,” I thought, “How hard is it to find the Liberty Bell?!”. As she drew closer, I began to pick up on what she was saying:

“I’m so sorry to bother you, but we’re filming for the new Rocky movie and we want to do a montage of people running up the Rocky steps, doing the Rocky dance when they get to the top. We’ve been filming all day and barely have any women…..would you mind doing that for us again?”

I wanted to kill her. Yet, as her words set in, it began to dawn on me – I could be part of a Rocky film! Sure, it would be the one everyone in the city was mocking, but a Rocky film nevertheless! That’s like the Philadelphia equivalent of being invited to have tea with the Queen!

So I agreed. Within minutes, I had signed a release form and was back down at the bottom of the stairs, getting ready to do it all again.  I did my best to not look tired or out of shape (I wasn’t about to let a geriatric Stallone upstage me!) and skipped my way up to the top of the steps, doing the Rocky dance like the tourists I had criticized so many times in my past (oh, Karma, you evil mistress). Within minutes, they were finished with me and I was off on my merry way.

On my walk home, I had resolved not to tell others of the experience for two reasons – 1) I looked like a dog’s dinner that morning, wearing my most beaten running outfit and having just completed a three mile stint (I do not manage to make this look sexy like they do in the movies) and 2) I figured a bunch of hot girls would come along throughout the day and my footage would end up on the cutting room floor in favor of my bustier competition. But, at the end of the day, it was a Rocky movie! Whether I made it to the final film or not, the very fact that I had at all become a part of such a quintessential Philadelphia institution was too good to keep inside.

So I told everyone. They all reacted the same way – shocked that there was to be another Rocky movie (some had not heard about Stallone’s outings in town) and amazed that I would trip into something so random and cool, regardless of whether it actually came to fruition. My father, certain my “star quality” would make the cut, pledged to buy the film the minute it came out on DVD. I guess that’s the adult equivalent of having my drawings hung up on the refrigerator.

So the months came and went and so did the publicity campaign for Rocky Balboa. I smirked to myself whenever I saw advertisements for it, remembering that fateful day on the Art Museum stairs, and, for a fleeting moment, even considered seeing it in the movie theatre, but elected not to at the end of the day. I guess my cynicism about the quality of the film won over my vanity/desire to see myself on the silver screen. When you consider that a movie ticket only costs about $9, that speaks volumes about my self-esteem. But I digress.

Within weeks, it seemed, the film was released on DVD. My parents were the first to rent it (I guess the cost of a senior citizen ticket was also too much for them to pay to see me on the silver screen, which may give you some insight into my aforementioned low self-esteem). They informed me that I was not in the film. I was neither shocked nor disappointed, as I cherished the experience more than the exposure to begin with, so I went on my merry way and filed that under “Things that sure were nice” in my mind.

A few weeks later I was home on a particularly bad night of television and decided to see what On Demand had to offer me. There is was – staring at me in a sea full of bad horror films and teen flicks – Rocky Balboa. I figured, “What the heck? I’ve seen all the others. Why not bookend the series?”

So I rented it from On Demand and had two shocking revelations over the course of the next hour and a half. Firstly, Rocky Balboa is actually a decent film! Despite the faltering of some of its latter predecessors, the final installment of the Rockys was a touching tribute to a once-amazing franchise.

My second revelation? I AM IN THE FILM. Very clearly. No doubt about it. During the closing credits. Girl in blue sweatshirt with long, blonde hair jogging up stairs (this is what I imagine I would be billed as). I’M IN A ROCKY FILM!!! I’m in a Rocky film and my own parents did not recognize me?! What the heck?! I confronted them about this and they tried to put a positive spin on it, telling me that they didn’t recognize me because I had “lost so much weight” or “gone for a darker blonde” since, but I didn’t let it bother me. Why? BECAUSE I’M IN A FREAKIN’ ROCKY FILM!!! If only Stallone knew how privileged he was to work with a legend such as myself.

Interesting postscript: Last summer I went back to the UK to visit some old friends.  One of the men I worked with, who I would describe as nothing more than an acquaintance at best, came over to me and said, “Can I ask you something really weird? Are you in the last Rocky film?” I almost made a transatlantic phone call to my parents then and there…