It's not every day one gets to say that. I received a check in the mail yesterday for some recent voice work for a Star Wars series and it was almost exactly the amount of my rent. Seeing as I will be using it for the rent, I figured I can say that George Lucas will, in fact, pay my rent for July. Pretty cool.
On a side note, I haven't heard anything from my latest creep casting (with me being the creep - not the casting person). I figure I have creepy down to a fine art now, so I don't think I was lacking in that department. In fact, I fear I may be a little too creepy. This character is supposed to be a normal, regular guy until the reveal later in the show that he's a predator. It's possible I may have been too creepy. The wrong kind of creepy (is there a right kind?). Creepy-from-the-moment-I-walked-in-the-room kind of creepy.
Of course, my creep factor (or CF, as I like to call it) may be off the charts. If Barack Obama has a CF of 1 (very low), Steve Buscemi is probably a 9. I'm an 11. And it's not just in the casting office. On my best days, I don't think I get any lower than a 6 on the CF - and that's still pretty darn creepy for your local Starbucks. I may be stuck playing creeps for life. My CF is too high for most cable shows, and definitely eliminates me from anything on daytime TV. I'm not safe off-camera, either. My last voice booking was playing a creep!
Well, I better run. Thanks, George, for paying the rent. I gotta run out to the hardware store now. I need an extension cord for my voice booth and a couple tools to try fix my faulty CF.
It's stuck in the ON position...
Friday, June 27, 2008
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
No Sausage for the Creep
Well I just heard that I didn't get my sausage. I have been released from my hold and am free to roam about the cabin. Bit of a let down, but then again - the role was described as a "spiritual person", not a seedy lowlife. Tomorrow, however, I have a casting for a "wiry creep in his 30s".
I don't wanna upset any fellow actors here, but don't bother showing up guys. This one's mine.
Step aside, Buscemi. Watch your back, Bacon.
There's a new creep in town...
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Please Hold
After doing this acting thing professionally (and exclusively) for nearly 15 years, I have become very good at forgetting about auditions as I leave the room. It is the only way to retain some shred of sanity in a career where one fails to book the job more often than not. Besides, there are so many other factors that determine whether or not one is successful - such as one's height, weight, hair and previous credits and how those might affect the producers, director, casting assistant or other cast. One can't take it personally, because it isn't personal. So there's no point losing sleep over it. I aim to go in, enjoy myself, be friendly, leave and forget.
This is all fine and good, until one gets a callback. Then you start to invest a little. You can't really help yourself. It's validation that you have the goods and gives you greater confidence in the room. Of course, that can mess you up. Maybe the very reason they brought you back was for your carefree delivery. Start caring and you might blow it. Well, I've learned not to care about callbacks, too, because there are still other actors on that list. All I can do is be the best "me" and hope that me is what they're looking for. And then forget about it. (Because you never ever hear that "you were good, but...". You simply either get the call to say you booked the job, or you never hear anything)
So I can forget about auditions and I can forget about callbacks. But I can't forget about "on holds". That's why I'm writing about them right now! I am currently on hold for a TV guest role. What does that mean? Well, I'm in the running. It's somewhere between "callback" and "cast". Probably, there are 1 or 2 others they're considering. Or maybe it's just me. They just haven't decided yet, because they have other priorities. But, in the meantime, we are "on hold" for a period when, strictly speaking, we cannot take any other work.
I don't enjoy being on hold. When I get the call, I do allow myself a little "yeah!", and then feel a little depressed. Because it's not real. It's like being told you might win the lottery next week. It's down to a couple people - you're one of them - and you probably won't know until after the draw date. Now try not to think about the lottery.
Difficult, right?
So, I am on hold from tomorrow until July 7th. I'd like to rejoice in having work, but it doesn't exist yet and I still don't know. I was on hold for a 3 week period last month for a movie. Then, the day before the shoot was due to start, they released me from my hold. Great. I can't even get angry that I cleared my schedule for no reason as, well, it was already clear, okay? Hey, it's been a tough year for the industry.
The real hold, of course, is psychological. It's got a hold of my brain. I want to get excited but I'm not allowed to, yet. I am the poor dog, whose owner is waving a sausage over its nose, juuuust out of reach. I might get the sausage. I might not. It's out of my hands.
All I can do is sit, salivating, hoping that my owner has a heart...
This is all fine and good, until one gets a callback. Then you start to invest a little. You can't really help yourself. It's validation that you have the goods and gives you greater confidence in the room. Of course, that can mess you up. Maybe the very reason they brought you back was for your carefree delivery. Start caring and you might blow it. Well, I've learned not to care about callbacks, too, because there are still other actors on that list. All I can do is be the best "me" and hope that me is what they're looking for. And then forget about it. (Because you never ever hear that "you were good, but...". You simply either get the call to say you booked the job, or you never hear anything)
So I can forget about auditions and I can forget about callbacks. But I can't forget about "on holds". That's why I'm writing about them right now! I am currently on hold for a TV guest role. What does that mean? Well, I'm in the running. It's somewhere between "callback" and "cast". Probably, there are 1 or 2 others they're considering. Or maybe it's just me. They just haven't decided yet, because they have other priorities. But, in the meantime, we are "on hold" for a period when, strictly speaking, we cannot take any other work.
I don't enjoy being on hold. When I get the call, I do allow myself a little "yeah!", and then feel a little depressed. Because it's not real. It's like being told you might win the lottery next week. It's down to a couple people - you're one of them - and you probably won't know until after the draw date. Now try not to think about the lottery.
Difficult, right?
So, I am on hold from tomorrow until July 7th. I'd like to rejoice in having work, but it doesn't exist yet and I still don't know. I was on hold for a 3 week period last month for a movie. Then, the day before the shoot was due to start, they released me from my hold. Great. I can't even get angry that I cleared my schedule for no reason as, well, it was already clear, okay? Hey, it's been a tough year for the industry.
The real hold, of course, is psychological. It's got a hold of my brain. I want to get excited but I'm not allowed to, yet. I am the poor dog, whose owner is waving a sausage over its nose, juuuust out of reach. I might get the sausage. I might not. It's out of my hands.
All I can do is sit, salivating, hoping that my owner has a heart...
Monday, June 23, 2008
Lip Smacker Loses Mouth in Coffee Shop Brawl
In an effort to escape the incessant heat in California, I have fled to the air conditioned sanctuary of my local Starbucks. Unfortunately, most of the clientele must be deaf, as the music blasts at such levels, it's hard to think. Even with my own music blaring through headphones, I can still hear it. What's worse, is it drives poeple to talk over the racket, causing an even greater racket. And it's driving me mad. The loudest of all, ironically, are the staff themselves, who spend more time gossipping than making coffee. That's no doubt why my hot Americano arrived iced.
With a little effort (and progressive loss of hearing), I managed to tune out the caucophony and get writing. But not for long. For in a rare moment of quiet a new sound pierced the caffeinated air - a clicking. Well, more of a smacking. The sound one makes after eating a particularly good piece of pie. I thought I had imagined it, until it came again. And again. I turned around, expecting a small child, but was greeted instead by a 20-something guy in track pants, vest and sweat band. He was reading, but not silently. No, clearly the book was a rare San Bushmen publication, for he continued the smacks, now accompanied by clicks.
I turned and gave a stare. You know the one: that "what the heck, dude, you're not Xhosa!" look. There was silence for a short while, then the smacking picked up again, this time peppering conversation. A phone conversation about his credit level. Real English words this time, interspersed with his own phonetic punctuation (apologies to Victor Borge). Soon there were pops, too. Smacks, clicks and pops. It would be charming if it weren't so bloody irritating. Like a dripping tap. After a while, it doesn't matter if there's silence; you're brain is anxiously waiting for the next painful drip.
I ordered another coffee- "hot please!" - and tried to calm down. When I turned around, the guy had gone. Ah, sweet relief. But too soon! There was a pop-pop-pop to signify his return and then a whistling solo that would have made Roger Whittaker proud. Or not. And as the soaring strains of "Halleluja" wailed around my brain with the whistler-popper-smacker providing tone-deaf harmonies, I shed a tear for the whales, a few short miles away, that would soon beach themselves in protest.
I'll be starting a petition to outlaw clicking, smacking and popping in public. If we don't take action now, people, the movement could grow out of control. Before you know it, poppers and smackers will be driving cars, in the White House, or worse - raising kids!
Vote now, before it's too late!
With a little effort (and progressive loss of hearing), I managed to tune out the caucophony and get writing. But not for long. For in a rare moment of quiet a new sound pierced the caffeinated air - a clicking. Well, more of a smacking. The sound one makes after eating a particularly good piece of pie. I thought I had imagined it, until it came again. And again. I turned around, expecting a small child, but was greeted instead by a 20-something guy in track pants, vest and sweat band. He was reading, but not silently. No, clearly the book was a rare San Bushmen publication, for he continued the smacks, now accompanied by clicks.
I turned and gave a stare. You know the one: that "what the heck, dude, you're not Xhosa!" look. There was silence for a short while, then the smacking picked up again, this time peppering conversation. A phone conversation about his credit level. Real English words this time, interspersed with his own phonetic punctuation (apologies to Victor Borge). Soon there were pops, too. Smacks, clicks and pops. It would be charming if it weren't so bloody irritating. Like a dripping tap. After a while, it doesn't matter if there's silence; you're brain is anxiously waiting for the next painful drip.
I ordered another coffee- "hot please!" - and tried to calm down. When I turned around, the guy had gone. Ah, sweet relief. But too soon! There was a pop-pop-pop to signify his return and then a whistling solo that would have made Roger Whittaker proud. Or not. And as the soaring strains of "Halleluja" wailed around my brain with the whistler-popper-smacker providing tone-deaf harmonies, I shed a tear for the whales, a few short miles away, that would soon beach themselves in protest.
I'll be starting a petition to outlaw clicking, smacking and popping in public. If we don't take action now, people, the movement could grow out of control. Before you know it, poppers and smackers will be driving cars, in the White House, or worse - raising kids!
Vote now, before it's too late!
Friday, June 20, 2008
The Boy and the Creep
I was in a coffee shop yesterday and was privy to the following conversation between a creepy fat guy (Creepy Guy) and a skinny young man (Boy). I felt compelled to type it down as fast as I could. Here's just a taste.
I will preface it by saying 2 things only:
1) every word is true.
2) I am not the creep.
-----
CREEPY GUY: Okay. What do you prefer? Drama or comedy?
BOY: Drama.
CREEPY GUY: Okay, good, good. Now what genres do you like?
BOY: Uh...
CREEPY GUY: You know, like action, adventure. What are your top three genres. Take a moment and think about it.
[The Boy takes a moment]
BOY: I like action...
CREEPY GUY: Okay! And horror? You like horror?
BOY: Yeah...
CREEPY GUY: Because a lot of guys start out in horror movies. If we can get you in one of those, you know?
[Creepy scribbles something on his pad, then looks up again]
CREEPY GUY: Do you see yourself as the leading man or more as the supporting character? The sidekick?
BOY: The leading man. I did this FOX promo, where I was the leading man, so I know I can play it. I mean I was like an extra, but they said I could do something more. I was featured playing guitar.
CREEPY GUY: Good, good. Now are you SAG or not?
BOY: No, I’m not. But with the commercial, maybe...
CREEPY GUY: Well let’s check that out. Cos I repped this girl and she got bumped up to a featured role and she got SAG, so you never know. Line producer, second AD, they’re the ones you wanna know. I’m not saying be an asshole. Just be charming. You know Jason? He’s the one with the short hair?
BOY: Oh yeah...
CREEPY GUY: He played a featured role on Samantha Who. He was, uh, he was the groom’s brother. He had to join Central Casting. Once he did that, they called him to be on this WB show. I’ll tell you, you have that fire...
BOY: Hahaha...
CREEPY GUY: No really. Like Jason? He has this game face. But you got the fire. Are you taking acting lessons? You should buy this book, by Jeremiah Covey. It’s called “The Art of Screen Acting”. And you’ve heard of Stanislavski, obviously. He wrote a book, but it’s not that good. Mark Haber wrote a book. Jason went to an audition and they really responded to him. Just from what he learned in that book. This woman I know, she was working in a diner with pineapple earrings and she woke up one day and said “what the hell am I doing here?” And she went to Groundlings and now she’s one of THE biggest voice artists, period. You know Principle Skinner on the Simpsons?
BOY: Yeah...
CREEPY GUY: Well she was the woman, you know the woman. His Mom? Well the woman who goes “Skinner!” That’s her. Every cartoon you hear? That’s her.
BOY:Wow.
=====
Only in Hollywood...
I will preface it by saying 2 things only:
1) every word is true.
2) I am not the creep.
-----
CREEPY GUY: Okay. What do you prefer? Drama or comedy?
BOY: Drama.
CREEPY GUY: Okay, good, good. Now what genres do you like?
BOY: Uh...
CREEPY GUY: You know, like action, adventure. What are your top three genres. Take a moment and think about it.
[The Boy takes a moment]
BOY: I like action...
CREEPY GUY: Okay! And horror? You like horror?
BOY: Yeah...
CREEPY GUY: Because a lot of guys start out in horror movies. If we can get you in one of those, you know?
[Creepy scribbles something on his pad, then looks up again]
CREEPY GUY: Do you see yourself as the leading man or more as the supporting character? The sidekick?
BOY: The leading man. I did this FOX promo, where I was the leading man, so I know I can play it. I mean I was like an extra, but they said I could do something more. I was featured playing guitar.
CREEPY GUY: Good, good. Now are you SAG or not?
BOY: No, I’m not. But with the commercial, maybe...
CREEPY GUY: Well let’s check that out. Cos I repped this girl and she got bumped up to a featured role and she got SAG, so you never know. Line producer, second AD, they’re the ones you wanna know. I’m not saying be an asshole. Just be charming. You know Jason? He’s the one with the short hair?
BOY: Oh yeah...
CREEPY GUY: He played a featured role on Samantha Who. He was, uh, he was the groom’s brother. He had to join Central Casting. Once he did that, they called him to be on this WB show. I’ll tell you, you have that fire...
BOY: Hahaha...
CREEPY GUY: No really. Like Jason? He has this game face. But you got the fire. Are you taking acting lessons? You should buy this book, by Jeremiah Covey. It’s called “The Art of Screen Acting”. And you’ve heard of Stanislavski, obviously. He wrote a book, but it’s not that good. Mark Haber wrote a book. Jason went to an audition and they really responded to him. Just from what he learned in that book. This woman I know, she was working in a diner with pineapple earrings and she woke up one day and said “what the hell am I doing here?” And she went to Groundlings and now she’s one of THE biggest voice artists, period. You know Principle Skinner on the Simpsons?
BOY: Yeah...
CREEPY GUY: Well she was the woman, you know the woman. His Mom? Well the woman who goes “Skinner!” That’s her. Every cartoon you hear? That’s her.
BOY:Wow.
=====
Only in Hollywood...
Thursday, June 19, 2008
The Casting Breakdown
And it really has broken down lately. Nothing like a writers strike followed by an impending SAG strike to kill the year. It's been really quiet so far, though I am grateful to have booked some TV work and a few voices. As you already know, I go in a lot for "creepy", "edgy", "charactery" and most recently "weasely" (I wasn't gutted when I didn't get a call back for that last one - there was some more deserving weasels in the waiting room).
Really, I am happy to have a type if that gets me in the room. Yesterday I went in for an episodic as an equine therapist, with not a "creep" in site! No, the character doesn't psycho-analyze horses, he just uses them to help rehabilitate people. Although that might make for a funny skit - listening intently with pad and pen as a horse lies on a couch sharing it's childhood secrets.
But I digress. Apart from going out for my monthly commercial casting, my agent routinely sends me commercial breakdowns to respond to "only if (I) fit the role". Nowadays, the trend is not to cast actors, but the "real thing". You can no longer play a fireman. You must actually be a real, certified fireman. (Didn't they know I was just an actor when they signed me?)
I thought I would share some of them, as they make me chuckle and might amuse you too. At the very least they'll make you glad you have a real job.
So here they are (no kidding):
1) Email regarding: MERCEDES For the role of: REAL PIT CREW
2) PEOPLE WITH DIABETES. MUST TEST AT LEAST ONCE DAILY.
3) Email regarding: NIKE For the role of: UFC referee
4) Email regarding: CHRYSLER For the role of: REAL WELDERS - must familiar with the machinary mu (I've heard of "welding", but not "mu". Mu? Mu who?)
5) ACTUAL GOSPEL CHOIR SINGERS PLEASE
6) ADVANCED IN SKILL LEVEL in BMXing, ATVing, off-road dirt biking, motorcross
And my personal favorite:
Email regarding: HUGGIES UK For the role of: WOMAN
(Need I say more?)
Well I'm glad my commercial agent's on the ball. If I was any one of these, you could be sure they would know about it - that's what that "SPECIAL SKILLS" bit is for at the bottom of the resume! If I could fashion steel wool into a St Christopher medallion with my tongue, you can be sure that's where I'd list it. And although my chest is coming along thanks to my weight training, I'm pretty sure I don't have breasts. So sorry, Huggies, I won't be playing "New Mom" any time soon.
I know they mean well and hey - it's possible Jared forgot to list the fact he's an award winning swimmer in butterfly and freestyle (I've had that one, too) - but if he can't get his sh*t together, you shouldn't be repping him! Stuff Jared. How about putting me up for "regular guy", "Dad" or "shopkeeper"?
At least send me out for "creepy"...
Really, I am happy to have a type if that gets me in the room. Yesterday I went in for an episodic as an equine therapist, with not a "creep" in site! No, the character doesn't psycho-analyze horses, he just uses them to help rehabilitate people. Although that might make for a funny skit - listening intently with pad and pen as a horse lies on a couch sharing it's childhood secrets.
But I digress. Apart from going out for my monthly commercial casting, my agent routinely sends me commercial breakdowns to respond to "only if (I) fit the role". Nowadays, the trend is not to cast actors, but the "real thing". You can no longer play a fireman. You must actually be a real, certified fireman. (Didn't they know I was just an actor when they signed me?)
I thought I would share some of them, as they make me chuckle and might amuse you too. At the very least they'll make you glad you have a real job.
So here they are (no kidding):
1) Email regarding: MERCEDES For the role of: REAL PIT CREW
2) PEOPLE WITH DIABETES. MUST TEST AT LEAST ONCE DAILY.
3) Email regarding: NIKE For the role of: UFC referee
4) Email regarding: CHRYSLER For the role of: REAL WELDERS - must familiar with the machinary mu (I've heard of "welding", but not "mu". Mu? Mu who?)
5) ACTUAL GOSPEL CHOIR SINGERS PLEASE
6) ADVANCED IN SKILL LEVEL in BMXing, ATVing, off-road dirt biking, motorcross
And my personal favorite:
Email regarding: HUGGIES UK For the role of: WOMAN
(Need I say more?)
Well I'm glad my commercial agent's on the ball. If I was any one of these, you could be sure they would know about it - that's what that "SPECIAL SKILLS" bit is for at the bottom of the resume! If I could fashion steel wool into a St Christopher medallion with my tongue, you can be sure that's where I'd list it. And although my chest is coming along thanks to my weight training, I'm pretty sure I don't have breasts. So sorry, Huggies, I won't be playing "New Mom" any time soon.
I know they mean well and hey - it's possible Jared forgot to list the fact he's an award winning swimmer in butterfly and freestyle (I've had that one, too) - but if he can't get his sh*t together, you shouldn't be repping him! Stuff Jared. How about putting me up for "regular guy", "Dad" or "shopkeeper"?
At least send me out for "creepy"...
Saturday, June 14, 2008
My Golden Moment
After 3 years of sporadic blogging, I've finally reached my 100th post. Hip hip. Typically bland post, I'm afraid, but if I wait for something exciting, I could be waiting months. I will spare you the week and will limit my post to one day - today.
At 8am, I set off to the gym on my bike, feeling fresh and fit on a Saturday morning. As I sped along the Walk of Fame, I hit a pothole and my tail light came bouncing off. I heard it clutter on the sidewalk and immediately brought my bike into a neat brake and turn. However, Hollywood's golden stars were particularly gleaming today, as my tires slipped and the bike slid away, leaving me spread-eagled and face down, as a fairly large crowd of tourists looked on. I leapt to my feet and recovered my light, but had clearly lost all cool points for the month of June (if, in fact, I had any to begin with).
2 hours later, I headed off to a small movie theater on Sunset to watch a screening of a movie I acted in nearly 4 years ago in a foreign country. Finally, this little film would see the light of day and I was looking forward to settling down in an air conditioned room with popcorn and an icy Coke.
I'm not allowed to talk about the film, which is fitting, as I haven't anything to say about the screening, either. When I arrived at the theater, I was informed that the film had not been delivered, and so the one-off screening of this never-quite-finished-film-no-one's-heard-of was a total non-event. So I cannot even report whether or not the movie I can't talk about is any good!
At least I can say I had my moment on the Walk of Fame. I crouched over a star while, for a few seconds, a crowd of onlookers paid rapt attention. Some of them may even have taken photos!
What more could a Hollywood actor ask for?
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