It began with an advert in an English-language newspaper, The Sofia Echo.
A foreign production was seeking English-speakers for small parts in a feature film soon to be shot at the Nu Boyana Studios in Bulgaria's capital.
"Well," I said to myself, "there's something I've never tried". Not dissuaded by the fact that I had neither any training as an actor nor any experience, I threw my hat in the ring.
I was mildly surprised to be invited for an audition – only mildly, mind, the first shooting day was looming and the production had gaps in the cast to fill.
The auditions were held in an hotel, and I found myself in a cavernous ballroom, populated by a motley faded carpet, randomly-stored chairs and side tables, and a woman whose friendliness put me somewhat at ease, as I sought to conceal the slight trembling of my hand with the lines I had to deliver.
"Interesting," she told me, those lines delivered, "you've chosen to play it understated". I essayed a wan smile and shrugged, not sharing with her that understated is my default condition. Preparing for the audition had involved less The Method than The Guess.
A few days later, my phone rang. I had been cast. I was presented with a lengthy contract to sign, which described me, in the way of such standard contracts, as the party THE ACTOR, yes, boldface, all caps. I found that rather amusing and rather grand, if not wholly accurate. I signed.
The shooting day came. For the first time in my life, makeup was applied to my face. I was costumed. I had a trailer to rest in, as if I was not the impostor I felt myself to be. When the second assistant director appeared to summon the actors for the scene – with the words "actors, please come this way" – I stood for some moments watching them go, until I realised he meant me too, and I scuttled after them.
For days, nay weeks, after that, I bored everyone I knew with recounting my experience, my delivery of a single line. Well, now I could say that I had once acted in a film.
A few months later, my phone rang. I had been cast in a Bulgarian television series. How? I was now on record, a photo of my face, my measurements, the languages I speak, my phone number in a studio dossier.
Cut to the chase, as the industry saying goes. It is now about 20 years since that first shooting day. My rough count is that I have appeared in more than 25 productions – full-length films, foreign and local television series, advertisements, infomercials, music videos, and as a voice-over actor. Signing contracts that refer to me as THE ACTOR (sometimes, THE PERFORMER, which always sounds a bit quaintly Music Hall to me) no longer seems incongruous.
At someone's birthday party once, an acquaintance, a trained Bulgarian actress wont to bemoan her poor earnings, moved within earshot of me to loudly make bitter comments about foreigners with no training and no talent who get acting parts while the true troupers suffer. I sipped my whisky and let the provocation pass. I remain understated.
As an actor, I was born in Bulgaria. This country gave me an opportunity that I would not, in a country where professional and talented native-speaking actors are in plentiful supply, have had. I know that.
But I know much more than that. Because at every given opportunity, I shall sing what I have seen of the highly-skilled and experienced Bulgarians working in this country's film production industry.
From the make-up artists to the costume specialists to the electricians to the set-builders (the sparks and chippies, in industry-speak) to the cinematographers, to continuity, to the caterers, to the drivers, to the second and third assistant directors, to props, the casting directors, I have anecdotes about almost all of them.
A few years ago, I was being costumed for a production set in the Roman Empire. The senior costume specialist chided her junior over a pin holding my toga in place. "That's late Roman Empire, my dear, he couldn't possibly be wearing that". The costume specialists have knowledge that is encyclopaedic.
On another, set in ancient times, my feet were made up. Make-up explained that given that I was wearing sandals, and given that those ancient streets would have been dusty, it would not do for my feet to be improbably clean. Thus, with a fine watercolour brush, fake grime was added to my toenails and feet.
This sort of attention to detail is commonplace. Sitting in a canvas chair between takes, I have eavesdropped on those earnest, intense conversations about which lens to use, though that has become less of a thing with the shift to modern digital tech. The latter also spelt the death knell for the measuring tape. A pity, because there was a chap whose job that was, and once he honoured me by asking me to autograph his measuring tape. I signed in koki and blushed to see my name adjoining some very well-known from cinema billboards.
A look at imdb.com's website shows more than 2000 productions that used Bulgaria as a location. The country, medium-sized by European standards, has an astonishing range of locations for all occasions. I have filmed at a ranch near Sofia that was a location for Stallone's Rocky. The coastline near Varna has played, with a little help from CGI, the White Cliffs of Dover. At Nu Boyana, there is a wall, partly green-screen, that has been St Paul's Cathedral. And that is to mention the exterior locations. Bulgaria has several studios, including those equipped with high-tech to attract, in particular, the advertising and music video production business.
My experience is that it is an industry that behaves correctly in its paper trail. Work is done against contracts, payment is bank transfer and payments are duly reported to the revenue agency. There are no reliable statistics for quite how large an employer it is – film productions by nature are human resources-intensive, as any closing credits will tell you. The Bulgarian state, however, should do more to give back. The relevant legislation is badly-crafted and incentives could stand much improvement.
Attracting film production is a competitive business globally, and the Bulgarian state should understand that incentives produce return on investments. Croatia and Malta, in this broader region, have done well out of "location tourism" – the punters who come to see where scenes for, for example in Croatia's case, Game of Thrones were shot. For years, back to the time of Yugoslavia, Mala Gorica and Zagreb drew tourists to Croatia to admire locations for Fiddler on the Roof. Bulgaria is wholly neglecting such opportunities for niche tourism.
I have long held the thesis that a recipe for success lies in Bulgarians and "Westerners" working together. In the exchange of experience, in the global sterling level of the Bulgarian professionals, in what they learnt in these intense years of many productions...anyone who holds that productions come here just because it's cheaper is getting it wrong. I have seen the respect with which the foreigners have learnt that their Bulgarians colleagues deserve.
It's a bilingual world. The moments before shooting: "Quiet on set! Пълна тишина, моля!".
Camera speed (they still say that, though digital made it technically redundant). And...
Action!
(THE ACTOR has signed many contracts with non-disclosure agreements as standard clauses and thus has not revealed identities and details of individual productions and individuals involved in them; but that was never the point of this article)