This is the scene I woke up to recently. Seems our entire neighborhood was turned into a set for Andy Samberg’s latest film.

If you’ve ever spent any time at home in Hollywood, or the Los Angeles area in general, you’ve doubtless run across a production crew shooting a movie/commercial/television episode. You can’t mistake them — huge production trucks, noisy generators, rows of port-a-potties, dressing room trailers, screens and camera paraphernalia, dollies, carts, card tables and people — sometimes hundreds of people — including crew, stars and background talent. You can’t help but be a little thrilled and a little curious when a showbiz circus like this unfolds practically on your front lawn.

Even though I’ve been at home in Hollywood most of my life and I’ve probably been around hundreds of sites like these, I admit to being neighborhood proud and excited when I woke up recently and found what seemed like a humongous production crew lining my street and all the streets around me for several blocks. Sure, we’d received a notice on our doorstep a week earlier, but that didn’t quite prepare us for the onslaught.

Joan Cusack prepares for a birthday party scene right across the street.

Andy Samburg, Akiva Schaffer and Jorma Taccone of The Lonely Island

This movie, we were told, was a small one with a tiny budget, even though Judd Apatow is producing and Universal is backing it. (Hmmm…) The details, according to SlashFilm.com, say that The Top Secret Untitled Lonely Island Movie, stars Andy Samberg and his partners Jorma Taccone and Akiva Schaffer, with the latter two also directing. Crew members told us it was sort of a mocumentary ala Spinal Tap and Andy’s character was to have grown up in our neighborhood. His screen mother lived in the yellow house across from the place they shot White Bird in a Blizzard, in which Shailene Woodley bared all. Since most of the residences in our neighborhood were built in the late 30’s and our street looks like it could be located in Any State USA, we get a fair amount of production in these parts.

I was kindly asked to move my car from view.

I couldn’t help but be disappointed, though, that they didn’t want to use our house for anything — not even for staging or equipment storage! The fees might have covered my coveted installation of artificial turf in the backyard. Sigh. But that doesn’t mean we weren’t involved–oh no! I was asked to perform the monumental task of moving my car out of the driveway, because it was in a few shots and would be a dead giveaway that the film didn’t take place in the 80’s. I wonder if I should insist on having my name in the credits, as part of the transportation team? Also, our curb and driveway were lined with people and production equipment at various times throughout the shoot.

For this, we were offered access to craft services (great coffee, decent bagels and lox) and catered lunch (excellent lamb and kale salad). Those of you into production might be appalled by that meager compensation, but we looked at it this way: film production is one of L.A.’s biggest industries, and I like to do what I can to support that–after all, it supports me in a way.

Besides, the crew was as nice and friendly as they could possibly be, and they adored Frankie. Every time we’d step out the front door for a walk (which I admit, was a little more often during production), there were always cries of “Frankie! Frankie! Come here you ole big fluff muffin!” He especially liked the kid actors, who he was fond of entertaining during downtime.

Don’t worry — I wasn’t riding on the dog.

Now I have a few friends with celebrity homes, in that the homes are celebrities and star in enough shoots to almost pay their own mortgages. And while I’m happy for the owners and just a little bit peanut butter and jealous, I’m not immune to the charms of being at home in Hollywood, where showbiz could come knocking on your front door any day of the week.

Frankie and I couldn’t help but be curious.

Frankie entertained the troops–especially the young ‘uns.