Hair

Not the musical. Real hair. Folicles. I'm talking about that dead tissue that collects and gathers round the neck. Mine is clearly growing out of control, thanks in part to recent movie role that required me not to touch it. 8 weeks after that request I have a mop that no-one would touch - not even me. The Malawian government even has a phrase for it: "Hair falling in bulk to the collar". It's illegal!

I blame Armenia. Or at least one of it's flock; my hairdresser Marta, who decided to "retire" and not tell me. Quite why a woman in her 30s feels the need to retire from hair dressing is beyond me. Maybe she grew tired of looking at scalps all day. Maybe there's a breaking point at around 10,000 heads. Or maybe it's just me.

In any event (and this really IS an event) I have no stylist. I'm not shy to say it, but I like my stylist. She cuts my hair well. Very well. Better in fact than any of her predecessors. She's also the only person to touch my hair since I moved to the States 4 years ago. And now she's gone. And I do not want to jump on just anyone's stool. I've done that before and it's not a happy place - I am always the guinea pig for some new style that has yet to (and will probably never) catch on. It doesn't matter if I say "Just a little off the front please". I'll get a short back 'n sides. It's inevitable.

So in the meantime, I have a mullet in training. And at the risk of this sounding awfully similar to a, well, similar post I made a couple years ago, I am in sore need of a snip. It's not easy, people. If they get carried away, I need to get new headshots. And headshots in LA don't come cheap. So it's really a critical business decision. (He said hastily, to avoid casting assertions on his own sexuality)

That said, business is good. I've booked a couple of video game voices since being back home. No acting work - only 2 castings. No callbacks. Maybe that's cos the voices are off-camera.

Hmmmm...

I might have a point there...

Back to Work

..or looking for work. Yes, I'm back in LA at last. Haven't missed not driving for 5 weeks - it's convenient having a driver. Very convenient. Reduced stress. You can drink without the fear of being pulled over. Funnily, most taxi drivers in Bulgaria drive with a little plastic cup - of espresso. Love it. They'll come to a traffic light and have a little sip. I could be a taxi driver too, if the coffee's good. I would need a sound proof partition for my passengers, though - I can't stand back seat drivers. Nor do I enjoy laughter. From anyone. I always think they're laughing at me. Which makes me rather angry. And potentially violent. And if I kill or maim a client, I may lose my taxi license and there goes my dream gig right there.

Also my neck's a little stiff today. Not sure if I could handle all the craning around to look at Jeff and Janet as they dig for their change in oversized leather bags. While they giggle and snort. I hate snorting. I snort too, on occasion. That's not good. I've grown less and less fond of Jeff the more I think about him. Janet's a little better. But not much.

Speaking of soundproofing, here's a snap of my home studio. Because I clearly have nothing of any import to impart. I like my mic. I like it more than Jeff.

He sounds almost life-like!

So I'm finally on the home stretch of the Train shoot. Only a few days left. Tomorrow I film my death scene. Buckets of blood, I tell you. In the meantime, a telephonic interview I did for South African website TVSA just posted online, to coincide with the SA screening of the 24 episode I'm in. It's a playable or downloadable podcast, which means you can just click on the pic of me and enjoy 10 minutes of my warbling on about life in LA and how I got the gig opposite Jack Bauer. Strictly for the committed fans I imagine, but nevertheless here's the link to the TVSA interview.

I sound more South African in this soundbite than I ever did back home. Strange that, but I think that's what LA-LA land does to a foreigner - makes him/her desperately try to assert some sense of identity. Funny.

That's all from Sofia. More news soon...

Just another bloody day at the office

Shooting is coming along nicely here in Sofia, despite a heatwave that has seen temperatures soar up to the mid 40sC (>110F). It's made a few members of the crew a little light headed and giggly. Which is probably preferable to violent outbursts with heavy metal piping.

This is me near my trailer. No, not the crate in the background, although it does look somewhat similar. My bloody look is just the start of what happens. There are some truly horrific moments in the film which, being a horror, there should be. Equally scary is some of the food we have encountered. The perennially popular "shopska salad" seems like a safe bet, until it arrives; a mountain of grated white cheese smothering (one hopes) a few tired lettuce leaves.

Doing my best to embrace the culture, I have also partaken of a popular local drink of sour milk/yoghurt with a delicate sprinkling of dill. It's definitely an acquired taste served, as it is, at room temperature (read: warm). The people are great, but one would do well to learn some Bulgarian, as few locals speak English. I've learned enough to order a cheese and tomato sandwich, coffee, ice for my soda (which doesn't come unless requested), and the obligatory bill please, thank you, good day and good night.

And with that I shall bid you leka nosht!

Goodbye to a Legend

Renowned South African actor, Bill Flynn, passed away suddenly wednesday, after suffering what appears to be a heart attack. He was only 58. Bill was instrumental in my getting started in the business. My first professional production was the annual panto, and Bill was playing the Dame. He was excruciatingly funny and brought the house down every night. I played a few characters and had a little stand-up bit during a set change. Bill was kind enough to introduce me to his agent after a performance and I was on my way.

I had the pleasure of working with him on two more occasions - in Paul Slab's rugby farce "Heel Against the Head" and as Bernard opposite his Willy Loman in "Death of a Salesman". In Heel, Bill could be a terror; whispering something that only I could hear, trying to corpse me. He got me the first time (and a few more) - you were putty in his hands. It took every fiber of my being not to get caught again. I was so furious I was determined to get him back and, for the rest of the run, devised all manner of plans to break him onstage in revenge.

I finally settled on a comment on a business card that my character handed him. I was so excited for my corpse I could barely contain myself. When the moment came to hand him the thing, Bill merely looked at it, dryly (and only audible to me, of course) read my "clever" comment back to me - and I cracked up. He corpsed me with my own damn corpse! Brilliant.

His Willy Loman, on the other hand, showed how he could blow a dramatic role out the park. The production won pretty much every award going. There's a scene where Willy sees how far Bernard has come, in stark contrast to his own son. When Bill turned to go, he looked upstage at me with such sadness and loss I nearly cried every night. I felt so privileged - no-one ever saw that look but me.

Bill was one of the warmest people I've ever met. A comic genius, a dramatic powerhouse, a talented singer (even though he tended always towards the spoof) and an inspiration to other actors, generous on stage and off. I will miss his voice, his ever-expanding monologues, his business, his passion, his love, his Dr Spock death grip (damn he was strong) and his multitude of characters. Nearly 200 plays, dozens of films and TV credits, numerous best actor awards, thousands of voice-overs and millions of memories for all of us.

Thank you, my friend. Thank you for everything. I love you. I am standing with you and Paul at the Baxter now. We've finished the show, taken off our make-up, you've had a drag of my cigarette. We've said good-bye to the last of the people at the bar and climbed the long staircase after the show. We stop at the top, just before the exit and gaze upward at the orange domes. We shift slightly, to position ourselves perfectly in the middle, to maximize the acoustics. Perfect. Then, with as much conviction as possible (ie: milking it), we deliver that movie trailer guy's voice...

"It has been buried for thousands of years. A mystery, a secret, a key to our past, and maybe... our future"

Gonna miss you.

The Train is at the Station

I find myself in Sofia, Bulgaria, about to shoot a movie called Train. It's a horror set in Bulgaria (funny that), that centers around a college wrestling team who inadvertently board the wrong train. A train to hell. Or something like that. I play the coach's assistant, who knows nothing about wrestling. Quite fitting really, as I know absolutely nothing about wrestling, too.

It's a beautiful country to fly over, and as charming and gritty as Prague or Slovenia. Can't say much more, as I've only been here a couple hours. But will report more when it happens.

Oh yeah - that's the view from my bedroom. Not half bad...

And He made Man (-ish)

As a part of my ongoing mission to bring you the latest grammar maladies, I present to you the following casting breakdown, posted earlier today:

Mr Earth USA Candidates

Lead / Male / All Ethnicities / 18 - 35 /
Were looking for a male candidate who are intrested in having the title of MR. EARTH USA 2007. He will symbolyses the masculinity of man at any angle of ethnicity, and to show the flexibility of man towards different issues in life.

The Candidates chosen to become the next Mr. Earth - USA Pageant 2007 should have the characteristic of attaining their own individualism, intelligence, talent and leadership. By this, he’ll create a once in a lifetime experience; his life will be forever change and will make a difference in touching the life of others.

I don't know about you, but Mr Earth isn't bad. I'd put it somewhere between Mr America and Mr Universe. Also, I think I've attained my own intelligence and I've been looking for a forever change.

Cool. Interested? Check.

Next step: to symbolyses the masculinity of man...got the equipment...check.

Now the hard part. To do that at any angle of ethnicity!

Hmmm... Tricky one, kids. Tricky.

I guess one could be masculine from most angles but, in all fairness, even the most butch guy can look a little girly when he's sleeping in fetal position, walking a very small fluffy dog, or delicately picking at a Caesar salad. Wait a second - he's gotta be masculine at any angle of ethnicity! Whether black, white, asian or mixed race, sporting dreads, crewcut, afro or bald - he must be masculine from any angle and, presumably, all of the above SIMULTANEOUSLY!

Think of the layering, the make-up, the dizzying choreography...

It's a tall order. No wonder they're offering a first prize of $1000 for the ultimate multi-ethnic macho man. Oh- and the "possibility" of a 6 month modeling contract. I'm in! I'm gonna have a Chinese face, mixed race legs, white arms and a black torso (all the way down). Waaaaait - what's this?

Audition Note
Please bring a beach wear for proper screening of candidates

Oh man, I just KNEW there'd be a catch. I don't have a beach wear. And why do I have to screen candidates? Is this for the position of judge? Why can't I wear an office wear? Maybe this isn't the competition for me. I could do with the $1000, but let's get real here. I'll never win.

I can spell.