For the second time in my life, I’ve become a movie star.

Okay, maybe “star” is overstating the case a bit. A featured player, perhaps; no, that’s not it either. Okay, I was an extra.

And it’s a very small independent film production whose makers will be shopping it around to film festivals, possibly including Fargo’s. Are you listening, Margie Bailly?

Called “Trust,” it’s a modern-day version of the nativity story. One of the filmmakers is Lainie, one of my closest friends in the j-school here and a real sweetie. She had mentioned to me that she was involved in the production and I was one of several students she asked to be in bit parts. It didn’t take a lot of convincing; I love her to death and could tell it was pretty important to her.

The filming was done at this incredibly seedy looking motel in Columbia. I teased Lainie by saying it looked like the kind of place that rented by the hour. One night last week, a bunch of us gathered at the motel to film the scene where various people are informed of the baby Jesus’ birth and gather to see the newborn, who was – in an act of almost foolish bravado by the filmmakers — played by an actual, three- to-four-week-old baby (who was adorable and actually very well-behaved).

My role basically was Old Crotchety Guy in Motel Room. According to the script, I was in my room watching “Angels in the Outfield” when I heard some commotion outside. After turning the TV up a couple of times to drown out the noise, I walked in some irritation to the door of the room and yanked it open, there to be greeted by an angel informing me of the Big Event. The other scene I shot was with all the other “motel guests” as we climbed into the moving truck that the modern-day baby Jesus was born in and then celebrated the birth.

I think I did pretty well, although between a bum knee and a total lack of rhythm, I’m not sure how good my dancing was during the celebration part. Hopefully, they’ll fix that in the editing, like cut out that part of my work completely.

I had three lines: “Oh, come on!”; “Matthew McConaughey!?”; and “Can we come in?” Those first two were ad-libs, by the way; I’m not criticizing the script, you understand, but I thought my dialogue contributions really reflected the complexity and spiritual depth of the story of Christ’s birth. I considered holding out for a screenwriting co-credit, but like I said, Lainie is a friend.

All in all, it was a lot of fun; I got a couple of free sandwiches out of the deal and met some nice people. It didn’t hurt that two of the Wise Men were, in this telling, some pretty attractive women.

The best part of the whole thing was that it would double the number of entries in my Internet Movie Data Base listing, if I had one.

My first brush with stardom was 30 years ago, when I was in Japan. I was an extra in something called “Hadashi no Gen.”

What, you’ve never seen “Hadashi no Gen?” What, you’ve never heard of it? Ah, we artists always are ignored in our lifetimes.

“Hadashi no Gen” translates as “Barefoot Gen.” Gen was a kid in Hiroshima during the post-World War II American occupation. The movie was based on a manga, a popular comic book format in Japan. The comic book, which was about four times the thickness of the Fargo phone book, wasn’t kid stuff, however. Somebody had a copy of it on the set and it had a pretty graphic rape scene.

Several other Caucasians and I were cast as American soldiers, which, considering I wore a beard even then, tells you something about the director’s concern for accuracy. I was in two scenes. In one, the movie’s two child stars (including “Gen,” who was kind of obnoxious), staged a fight outside an army base to distract us guards from smugglers who were spiriting stuff off the base. We cheered the kids as they fought, broke them up, showered them with candy bars and then joined hands, danced in a circle around them and sang, “You Are My Sunshine.”

To quote Dave Barry: I am not making this up.

In the other scene, I was just running through a park, presumably chasing somebody. I didn’t get to fire my gun, which I considered something of a bummer.

Still, I made the equivalent of $80 and got a box lunch, so the day was a net plus.

It does have an IMDB listing, but unfortunately, my part isn’t even listed as “uncredited.” According to the listing, “A powerful statement against war, Barefoot Gen is a story about the effect of the atomic bomb on a boy’s life and the lives of the Japanese people.”

That’s why my work as an actor is so deeply satisfying. Not only did I get to pelt two little kids with candy bars, but I also got to make a profound point about nuclear war and the human condition. And the box lunch, as I recall, wasn’t half-bad.

I also like to think that at least one or two of the literally dozens of people who’ve probably seen the movie were attractive young women who, to this day, carry a torch for the young soldier throwing candy bars and singing a song nobody even knows the words to any more. (I never saw the film, by the way; for all I know, it could be Japan’s answer to “Citizen Kane.” That’s not likely, though, given that the director looked like a particularly poor grade of wino.)

So, in advance, I’d like to thank the academy. Look for Karon and me on the red carpet. You won’t see us, but hey, look anyway, just to make me feel good. No autographs, though.