Christmas needs extras. Whidbey delivered.
Published 1:30 am Friday, July 24, 2026
The only person in Langley brave enough to admit how everyone was feeling on set for the film, “Starry-Eyed Christmas,” was a little boy who refused to wear a shirt.
“No, it’s hot,” he insisted, as his parents pleaded with him to put it back on. Someone suggested Santa might reward him if he cooperated. Without missing a beat, another child blurted out, “That’s not the real Santa.”
In a room decorated for Christmas but pushing 85 degrees, it was hard to argue with the shirtless boy.
I showed up on Wednesday evening to Bayview Hall in Langley dressed in a Grinch sweatshirt, ready to blend into the background of a Christmas movie. There, I found myself surrounded by dozens of Whidbey Island families decked out in red and green dresses, ugly Christmas sweaters and festive hats and ribbons, all pretending it was December.
About 65 volunteer extras gathered inside a “Langley Christmas Market” set, where tables overflowed with holiday décor, cookies and Christmas-themed gifts for sale. A Santa chair stood nearby, and a stage hosted performances. The crowd of extras was instructed to react as naturally as possible while people performed on stage.
Extras danced. Some smiled. Others pretended not to care until each take ended with enthusiastic applause.
The film, “Starry-Eyed Christmas,” is an ultra-low-budget production expected to premiere in December. It is a gender-bent take on the 1987 film “Roxanne,” itself inspired by the classic play “Cyrano de Bergerac.”
Melanie Stone stars as Sheriff Bailey, Joshua Price plays visiting astronaut Hudson and Angela Cole portrays Natasha, the local hairdresser. While the lead actors traveled from Los Angeles, the extras live on Whidbey Island.
Director Cathy Yonek admitted she didn’t expect such a turnout from the Whidbey community.
“I am gratefully surprised,” she said.
Looking across the room filled with local families, dancers and volunteers, she was nearly moved to tears.
“It’s really beautiful,” she said. “People care about love stories and Christmas stories.”
Co-producer Kim Hornsby shared that the extras who filled the set that evening, the busiest of four days involving local volunteers, was only one-tenth of the people who wanted to be in the movie. After advertising the need for extras on Facebook, she said, she received so many responses that she struggled to keep up with her inbox.
Inside the hall, everyone glistened with sweat. Children’s hair stuck to their foreheads. Still, complaints were surprisingly rare. Despite the heat, Hornsby said the atmosphere never lost its holiday spirit.
“Oh, it’s undeniably Christmas inside,” Hornsby said.
Ryleieh Wood, who is 13, said she never imagined herself appearing in a movie.
“It’s pretty cool,” she said.
Ten-year-old Samiya Wood was equally surprised by the opportunity.
“It’s kind of shocking,” she said.
She arrived dressed for the occasion in a Christmas dress and a white tinsel headband, ready for her favorite holiday, Christmas of course.
Some of the extras already had bigger dreams after this role, like 8-year-old Madelyn West.
“Maybe I would be so good that I might be a star in another movie,” she said.
Her younger sister, Harper West, who is 6 years old, didn’t overthink the experience.
“I like it,” she said.
When asked what she liked about it, her answer was immediate. “Everything.”
Their mother, Joelle West, said filming on Whidbey carried a special meaning.
“I grew up on this island, so I grew up during the ‘Practical Magic’ era when all that was so exciting,” she said. “It’s just exciting to be part of something cool, especially in this little community. We don’t get much of that.”
Between takes, volunteers fueled up on cookies, juice boxes, nerds, oranges, pistachios and plenty of bottled water. Children carefully decorated cookies while parents chatted, performers rehearsed and extras waited for the next scene. I spent much of my time at my designated “cookie” table inside the market. Listening to a guitarist’s Christmas country jangle made me feel as though I had wandered into the middle of a holiday festival instead of a movie set.
Maybe I’ll appear in a quick shot when “Starry-Eyed Christmas” premieres this December, or maybe I’ll end up on the cutting room floor. Either way, the memory I’ll keep isn’t of the cameras; it’s of a room full of Whidbey residents willingly wearing winter clothes in July because they wanted to help bring a Christmas story to life.
