Stars in my eyes

Turn up at 9am yesterday in a basement at the mouth of the River Lea for The King Is Dead, a short film in which I play the Body Bag Man - the sinister figure who comes in at the end to - yes, you've got it - bag up the bodies of nasty criminals who get in the way of an even nastier criminal. Into the changing and make-up room, shake hands with the figures being powdered and begin to settle in.

My costume - self-supplied, with black shoes, trousers, shirt, jacket and tie - is fantastic, says Giulia the Costumier. My bald pate is soon powdered. I stroll out, get coffee from an eager assistant and fail to avoid snacking on the biscuits. Look around, work out who is cast and who is crew. Those faces I saw being made up earlier are familiar. The younger one in particular. I recognise those ears, that brow. Just like that actor who's appeared in a few tv comedies, and I've seen him on stage in a Tom Stoppard. The older one, too, although I can't place the face.

I sidle over towards a callsheet on the wall to check the cast list (the same callsheet I hadn't bothered to look through the night before). I was half right. The older one's name isn't familiar, but the younger one's is. A B-list Celeb. Seems pleasant enough. I wouldn't notice him in a crowd and he isn't drawing attention to himself.

Filming starts. I have an easy task, coming in, pausing in the light flooding through the door before coming forward to survey the scene before me. Bagging up the victims. No dialogue, but the adrenalin is pumping, the crew are enthuiastic and it's clear I'm part of a team creating a strong scene.

But not the whole team. For the first time on a set I notice a division between the stars and the nonentities, between those who speak and the silent extras, between the names emblazoned at the start of the film and the names that march across the screen at the end. Each time there's a break the four leading actors huddle together, talking shop and never addressing an unnecessary word to others around them, surrounded by an invisible force field. They are not rude to anyone and it's only natural to spend time with people with whom you have a lot in common, but I am slightly annoyed because their behaviour reinforces a - yes I have to say it - caste system that is unnecessary on a small film. Why can't they behave like most people would, making small talk for a few minutes with others around them? You don't have to get involved with anyone and you may even come across someone interesting, someone you may want to get to know better.

The day draws inevitably to a close. The leading actors leave with weak smiles and perfunctory thanks. When I follow shortly afterwards, I hope my farewells to crew and remaining cast come across as strong and sincere. Walking back to the station, I reflect on my contribution. Yeah, I like what I did; today I done okay.