50 Hour Drive-By Theatre Festival

It's been a while since I stepped on a stage and it's time to step things up. On stage. So to speak.

Bring on the 50 HOUR DRIVE-BY THEATRE FESTIVAL. A half dozen or so 10 minute plays are written, directed and performed in a speedy 2 days. It's crazy. It's foolish. It's downright dangerous! But I'm doing it, because there are other brave people out there, like Captain Sully, who landed his passenger-laden US Airways jet on the Hudson river. Why didn't he land on, well, land? Because he wanted a new experience, people. A new challenge. When asked by reporters why he settled on the Hudson river, the Captain proudly replied "Because it's there!"

Okay, he didn't say that, but you get the picture. Nothing like throwing yourself in the deep end. A lottery system determines which writers get paired with which actors and directors. It's all so gosh darn random - just like life. We actors get the script on the Friday night and rehearse non-stop until opening night the very next day! And while I have no clue as to the story or role, I can promise it will entertain. How could it not? Plus there's a super talented team of peeps on board.

Shows are at Zombie Joe's Underground Theatre in North Hollywood; Saturday 2/21 @ 8:30pm, Sunday 2/22 @ 2pm and Monday 2/23 @ 8:30pm. Oh yeah, and there's also live music. All for the bargain basement price of 15 smackeroos.

Prodigal Twins Unite At Long Last!

I cannot express fully my delight and dismay at discovering that there's a film in production starring both Toby Maguire and Jake Gyllenhaal. Finally. For years I've been confusing the two. I mean, is there any difference between them? Are they even separate humans? Like Latoya and Michael (though the human part is debatable) - have the two ever been seen together? Lord knows I haven't seen them together at the same time. But then I've never seen them apart, either. And that's just as scary...

Nevertheless, Tobey and his separated-at-birth twin Jake are to star in a new film called Brothers. Oh. Okay. That's not so interesting now. I mean they already look like siblings. Surely the real acting challenge would be to play totally unrelated characters or, even better, mother and son. Now THAT would be interesting.

In other gripping news, I booked that "creepy presense" role for 90210. Look out for another Emery creep crawling across your screens soon. I was also briefly put on hold for a "scary-looking, downright unpleasant convict" on Cold Case, but "they went another way". Ah well.

If anyone knows which way they went, please point me in the right direction. Maybe there's time to catch up. I can be scary and, now that the rent is due, I'm downright unpleasant!

The Eleventh Hour Approaches

Look out for tonight's episode of Eleventh Hour and you'll catch me doing my creepy best. Well not exactly, but close enough. The episode is called Miracle and, while I won't be giving away any spoilers, IMDB had this to say about the British version:

"The seemingly miraculous cure of a boy's tumor from drinking spring water sends Hood on a mission to debunk the claim".

So there you go. I can't say who I play, but I can tell you with absolute certainty that I am neither the boy, nor the spring water.

Eleventh Hour stars Rufus Sewell as sci-buff Jacob Hood and Marley Shelton as Rachel Young, the agent assigned to protect him on his intriguing cases. When the cops and feds can't figure it out, they call on Hood, the last man between us and total innihilation.

Alright, I made up that last bit, but you get the idea. It's a fun show that is somewhat part X-Files, part House. Eleventh Hour airs 10pm Pacific on CBS. You can also catch shows online at CBS.COM.

I'll Have the Baby Back Ribs with a Side of Beethoven

We're well into the new year and I figured I should post a blog. At least something. Haven't thought of anything remotely interesting to write about, but to be fair, that hasn't stopped me before. And dammit, it won't stop me now!

New Year's was pretty low-key. I managed to see it in, despite my better wishes. My aim was to get blotto, but, seeing as I was driving, blotto was put on hold. Better. My snowboarder-wannabe ribs are bruised but not broken. But I have a new ailment to add to the list - tinnitus. After parking my car in a garage yesterday, a truck drove by and set off another car's alarm. It went off about 10 feet away at such a shrill pitch, that by the time I got home my one ear was ringing. As if I'd been to a concert. Just the left ear, mind you. As if I'd spent the entire concert less concerned with the band, and more interested in the person sitting to my right. Or perhaps I had to delicately sit on my right bum cheek, as the left was too bruised from a recent snowboarding trip. (Not that I'd know anything about that)

Anyway, my rib continues to make its presense felt. My back reminds me each morning that I need a new mattress and I may be going deaf in one ear. But otherwise, all is good. I'm thinking of writing a concerto. Unfortunately, the only note I can hear is a persistent, incessant E. No jokes- I tested this on my pitch pipe - it is a definate E! I was chatting to my mega-talented musician friend, KARMA, and she told me that a great deal of music is written in the key of E, so that's good, I suppose.

Auditions have started up. I went in for Lost yesterday and have one for 90210 on Monday. Just in case you thought a new year brings new opportunities, I will put your mind to rest. The 90210 character is described as having "a creepy presense". Phew. For a moment there, I bet you thought I'd cracked a normal role.

Must run off now. Gonna be a busy day. Haven't been creepy for a few weeks. Need to brush up. Plus, I have sheet music to buy and a wig to powder...

I Love Plumbers

With Christmas out the way, we can focus on New Year's Eve. Thankfully my pipes are clean again. And no, that is not a metaphor. In the spirit of grubbinness, I offer you the following little video which I only discovered a little while ago. It's a car commercial I shot in Slovenia a few years ago, in which I play some dark and dirty character. Never really fancied myself as a goth, but the director evidently did. Good for a chuckle. As was my first attempt at snowboarding last week. But that's another post...

Merry Merry

After spending the day out and about on Christmas Eve, thanks in part to the water being turned off, I returned home after a splendid late lunch of Shepherd's pie and baked beans (with HP sauce of course), followed by rhubarb pie with custard. As I entered the apartment, I was hit by a stink. A rotting kind of stink. Following my nose (an easy thing to do) I discovered that my bathroom was flooded and my bath was full of dark brown water. Since I had left the taps turned off, the foul smelling fluid had come up from the pipes below. Delish!

After an hour trying to empty the bath and unblock it, I realised it was futile. The blockage is severe and using any water in the basin only bubbles up to fill the bath as well. But I didn't call a plumber on Christmas Eve, nor will I today, when they'll no doubt charge a (more) exhorbitant sum, which the absent manager will undoubtedly refuse to pay.

NOTE: Had to stop writing this entry to start bailing water again, as my upstairs neighbor was having a shower and my bath started filling up! No doubt I will have to do the same when the neghbor 2 floors up has HIS shower.

The moral of today's story, is be thankful you're not near me. Cos I stink. Have a wonderful day, whatever you do. And may the New year bring love, laughter, passion and reward!

Whoa - gotta go. My bath is filling up again - I kid you not. Now I need to decide whether or not to risk going out to Christmas lunch and have my place flooded. Grrr. At least the water's warm...

Why We Suck

After my ongoing theme of doppelgangers, how better to round things up than with a face-to-face with Denis Leary (aka Doppelganger #1). I saw that the man had a signing for his new book, Why We Suck, not far from me. The only challenge was getting there. I had to take my Dad to the airport after a splendid little stay with me - and could hardly let family take a taxi in order for me to spend 30 seconds with someone who looks a little like me. That's just weird. Oh yeah - and heartless.

So I took Dad to the airport, saw him through check-in and waved him off towards an invigorating cavity search (or whatever LAX security has in store these days) and only then raced off to the signing. Luck was on my side, traffic was thin and I arrived with time to buy a copy and rush upstairs to stand in line. Phew.

I had visions of Denis seeing me and going "Jesus, it's like staring into a mirror! I simply MUST put you in an episode of Rescue Me as my long lost, shorter, younger brother! Please tell me you're an actor - you ARE an actor, right? Wait, who's your agent...?"

In reality, it was more like "And this is to you?" He gestures to the book. I confirm it is, indeed, for me. I manage to cough up, in a thin whispery voice (what the hell?!) that not a day goes by I don't get told I look like him. "Ah," he says. (clearly he doesn't see the resemblance) "Well there's a picture in the book of me and Willem Dafoe". I laugh. The nice lady takes my picture and I leave, grinning like a child.

Good to meet the man. Seems like a nice guy. I am sure the book is not. Nice. With a cover blurb that runs "A feel good guide to staying fat, loud, lazy and stupid" you know he's not gonna pull any punches. It looks like a good bitch about people who bitch about things and blame others when they really need to stfu and change themselves. Just my cup of tea!

So what if I don't have a recurring role on the new season of Rescue Me. I got my face-to-face and that's what counts. I do feel a little bad that I had no time to explain that I was a little clammy cos I'd rushed like a loon from the airport, the warddrobe synchronicity was purely coincidence and I don't normally wear blue eyeshadow and eyeliner - that was from today's audition for the part of a washed-up Eighties rocker.

So what.

I'm sure, deep down, Denis knew I was a fellow thesp, deeply immersed in the craft, too committed to waste time with superficial things like mid-day cleansing, when there was an actor to support.

Nah.

Denis Leary thinks I'm just another creepy sweaty guy who wears makeup and stands too close.

Ugh.