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Rescue Dog To The Rescue

Published November 18, 2009 acting , auditions , film , show business , Uncategorized 5 Comments
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I actually got a call from The Onion News Network again. Which is mind boggling after my last encounter there. The “Ah, that was OK, but could you possibly say some of the dialogue from the script?” moment I had with them. (See post August 19, 2009.)

So, good to know. The Onion News Network will give you another chance even if you are apparently totally retarded. So even though I was totally mortified and all it was no biggy in their minds. Which is probably the case in 99% of all life experiences for an actor. You could die and other people are like’ “Huh?”

This coincided with my husband and I fostering a dog. A pretty neurotic dog. Especially at first, and they called me on day three of dog fostering. All I could think about was whether or not the dog had gone poopy yet. Really nothing else mattered. Leave it to Cranky to get an anal retentive dog. “Please poop. Please poop. Please poop.” Was all I kept thinking as we walked around the neighborhood. If she finally pooped, I was gonna have a party. A party with a cake. A log roll cake with candles.

So I was obsessed with rescue dog and her pooping problems and everything else dimmed by comparison. So I never did get around to looking at the script. I never got around to washing my hair.

The morning of the audition I took foster dog to the vet across the street. She gave the dog a suppository. “I hope you have time to walk her around. You don’t want an explosion in the house,” the vet said.

I was supposed to be getting ready for the audition, but instead was circling endlessly around the neighborhood with little Miss Anal Retentive waiting for the poopy explosion. The poopy explosion that never happened. It was time to get dressed. No poopy. It was time to leave. No poopy. The audition is in ten minutes. No poopy.

I finally gave up and ran upstairs and threw clothes on and ran to the train. Thinking I could at least study the script on the train. Which I could have done really. If I had remembered the script. Oh well.

So I get there. And the elevator is broken. I have to walk up ten floors of stairs in sling back heels. I tell myself, “Just imagine it is two five floor walk-ups.” I once actually lived in a seven-floor walk-up. But that is another story. I still have nightmares about that apartment.

I finally reach floor ten. I am sweating. I am panting. I am late. I don’t know a word of the sides. And really, I am totally unconcerned. I am thinking, “You all think this is important? Rescue dog needs to poop. I just want to get this over with and go home and check on the poopy situation.”

So I grab a script. I learn the script. I give a great audition.

It was a case of Rescue Dog to the rescue.

I get a callback. I screwed up every way you can screw up an audition and I get a callback. Why? Because I DIDN’T FEEL BAD ABOUT IT. No self-sabotage was happening. I was not freaked out about being late/sweaty/unprepared.

Thank you rescue dog. Thank you for the Zen life lesson. And thank you for finally pooping.

The Absolutely Dreadful Audition

Published October 22, 2009 acting , Actress , auditions , film , show business , Uncategorized 6 Comments
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Got the below email from a fledgling director:

“From: Adam Drysin
Subject: Penny Dreadful Audition
Date: Oct 16, 2009, at 7:35 PM EDT

Hi everyone, thank you all so much for your enthusiastic response! Due to the sheer volume of actors interested (over 150 of you have already confirmed), I’ll have to send out a mass email.”

Dopey dopier dopiest – like I care how many people responded? Is there a difference between a laconic response and an enthusiastic one? Can you feel a vibe when you look at a submission-”Hmmmm this feels enthusiastic!”  Seriously?  If you asked any of the sheer volume of actors if they were enthusiastic about your project the most common answer would probably be; “Ah I dunno.  The guy sounds kind of lamo but I’m not doing anything else,  so what the hell.”

“Unfortunately, if you are unable to make it between 2 and 6 on this upcoming WEDS 10/21 I am currently unable to accommodate you. However, I will be looking to schedule a make up date in the coming weeks.”

Huh? So you WILL be able to accommodate me?

“If you have responded that you would like to come on Wednesday at a specific time, be assured that I have made a note of it and you will be seen before you have to leave.”

But not when you ARRIVE at your chosen time?

“Your presence is not unappreciated and everyone who comes to audition will be seen. I only ask that you be patient, since I am pretty much putting this whole thing together by myself.”

And I should care why? Thanks for warning me that you’re unprofessional and have no friends.

“Attached you’ll find a side to prepare- it’s a scene from David Mamet’s play Boston Marriage. I find I have the best results with casting calls when actors reading material I haven’t written.”

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP WARNING WARNING IDIOT ALERT IDIOT ALERT

“Looking forward to meeting you all, don’t hesitate to call or email me with any questions.

Adam Drysin

P.S. ALSO, please watch this video, it will give you a good sense of I do auditions…

(just kidding, but you should all watch it anyway because it’s great)”

Appropriate for facebook but for a casting email? Not so much.

OK, so after reading this email Cranky should have known better. Cranky should have skipped it. I shoulda stayed home. But no, Cranky went anyway. This is when I could use the actor HOTLINE.  I needed someone to tell me; “JUST SAY NO!”  But I went.   And of course it was a big mess. A green room full of actors where no one left. The NO EXIT of audition rooms.

So Cranky and another actress took matters into their own hands – we had a minor rebellion. We were free. For all I know those actors are still in there. Waiting waiting.

The story of what we found is in the email below that I wrote to Mr. Drysin the moment I got home.

“From: crankyactress
Subject: PENNY DREADFUL AUDITION – ABSOLUTELY DREADFUL
Date: October 21, 2009 5:40:19 PM EDT
To: adamdrysin@nyu.edu

Dear Adam -

I unfortunately attended the ABSOLUTELY DREADFUL PENNY DREADFUL AUDITION and waited and waited. I had to listen to two actresses talking to each other across the room about how they flushed their cell phone down the toilet and why they only did one year of the two-year conservatory program they were in. One of the stories involving bronchitis and mononucleosis and how she was told not to attend school with bronchitis but if she didn’t attend she would fail. Why why why do boring loud people always talk to each other ACROSS the room? So thanks for that Adam. I have a million things to do but I traveled to the village to sit in a plastic chair and listen to drivel.

There were ten actors waiting to be seen for your project. When another actress and I realized that the monitor had not called any one in for over fifteen minutes we decided we needed to figure out WHAT THE HELL WAS GOING ON. So we left the green room and searched the halls until we found the audition room. There was music coming from inside. We were not auditioning for a musical. We knocked on the door. There you and the monitor were. Listening to music. Having snacks.

You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.

When we asked, you said, “Ah, um, ah we were changing the tape.” In a video camera. Which takes all of two minutes. There is a myth that actors are stupid. You obviously believe this MYTH. So by then, with ten actors there and each audition taking approximately five minutes each, I would have had to wait about an hour. Nice.

You said you had a “big turnout”. The amount of actors who responded is of no concern to me. If you choose to audition 150 actors for a short film I suggest you figure out an organized way to do it or maybe narrow it down by half. Asking 150 actors to come between 2 and 6 is preposterous.

So bye bye Adam. We left.

If you can’t organize an audition what is your film set gonna be like? Time management is a huge part of being a good director. I know because I’ve worked with a lot of them. A lot of talented EXPERIENCED people who would never THINK of treating other people this way. I’ve heard NYU costs like 40,000 bucks a year. I suggest you take this money and open a small business and get someone organized to run it. You obviously have no respect for actors. And good actors are gonna walk away.

I have been in the First Run Festival. I’ve been in films that have been in festivals all over the world. I do my work. I prepare. I’m on time. I fix my fucking hair and put on makeup. I take my work seriously. I am continually working on my craft.

Do I wanna work with a JOKER? The answer would be no.

From,

AN ACTRESS WHO JUST WASTED A PART OF HER DAY”

He Married An Actress

Published October 15, 2009 Uncategorized 2 Comments
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Cranky is going away today. Cranky doesn’t like traveling. Cranky likes to stay home. Except for work. Because work means making money and making money trumps everything. But traveling for fun? It’s not fun.

I’m going because my husband has to go and I am keeping him company.

When he first asked me I said I didn’t wanna go. Then he convinced me that it would be nice for him and all so I said I would go. Then the date got closer and I realized I would actually have to get on a plane and stay in a hotel and leave my home. So I told my husband I didn’t want to go. I started running around the house petting the walls to express how I felt. “I LOVE HOME. HOME GOOD. HOME NICE. STAY HOME. CRANKY LOVE HOME!” All this while petting the walls of our apartment and hugging the doorjamb to the kitchen. “But you said you would go and I bought you a ticket!” he said.  “Oh” I said. So I once again agreed to go. Then a few days later I was tense and whiny on the phone about everything I had to do before we go and my husband said, “You still want to go don’t you?” “I already said I would go. I’m going,” I said. Then I hung up the phone and thought, “Wait a minute. That sounded suspicious. Is he trying to make me stay home? Does he want to go alone? Does he want to get away from me? Is he trying to make me say I won’t go?”  So I called him up and asked him why he didn’t want me to go. “I do I do I want you to go,” he said. “I thought you didn’t want me to go. Why did you ask me if I still wanted to go when I already said I would go?”  I said.   And on and on…

These are the times I feel a little sorry for my husband that he married an actress. I think the definition of the above interchange is called histrionics or herstrionics as the case may be. But I feel sorry for him only rarely. Because being a homebody/home lover also means I cook and decorate. Any magazine wants to stop by and take some pictures of my apartment I’m ready anytime. I single handedly keep Swifter in business. We have summer curtains, winter curtains, summer throw pillows, winter throw pillows and a summer slipcover for the couch. I just switched everything. How could I leave now?

My husband found this French movie, “I Married An Actress”. He got this funny look on his face when he told me about it. Like he’s discovered some support group he’d been searching for all his life. Like he wasn’t the only one. Like Ah-Hah See!! Actress/wives are a handful. We watched it and all her crying in the rain and running out of the house seemed pretty normal to me, and oddly enough her husband was a cerebral type just like mine. The type that needs herstrionics to keep him in touch with his emotional side. To make sure he remembers there is an emotional side to life. Which is what good art theater can do I think and maybe a good actress/wife.

Recently my husband got mad at me. I was being crazy hyper about getting somewhere on time. I was like pushing him down the street. (He has only one speed.) And he got mad at me. So I apologized. “I’m sorry”, I said. “Do you forgive me?” “Not yet”, he said. “Well, when are you going to forgive me?” I said. He answered, “I’ll forgive you after I’ve seen a pattern of normalcy.” Good luck with that.

Cranky On A Deserted Island

Published September 30, 2009 Actress , Uncategorized 3 Comments
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Cranky took a mini vacation last week. A perfect recession vacation. A friend let me stay in her Fire Island house when she wasn’t using it. So I brought a girl friend. We arrived in the middle of the week. It was off-season. It was a cloudy dark and blustery day. There were no people.  There were no bicycles ringing their bells. No barking dogs.   It was scary as shit. All the houses were dark. We were on a deserted island.

I know this is supposed to be great. But I live in Brooklyn, a block from the 24-hour Korean Deli. In an apartment building with neighbors all around (most of them friendly – except for the two crazies in the building.) It looked like the perfect setting for a Shining kind of situation.

We got off the ferry and 1:15 in the afternoon and the only little store was closing. CLOSING?! HELP!

We watched “David Letterman” and I was inspired by his nightly top ten list. So I wrote one of my own:

The top ten things that show I’m an ACTRESS when on vacation on a deserted island:

1. The minute my friend and I get off the boat we start our vacation by doing a tough session of “Buns Yoga.”

2. We are ravenous after so share 5 crackers.

3. Supposed to relax but I check email 18 times a day.

4. The only other human on the island is the strange man who runs the grocery store and still I apply eyeliner.

5. First thought when spotting a deer on the lawn – “Why don’t my eyelashes look like that?”

6. I try to figure out how to swim without getting any sun on my complexion

7. For dinner we are starving and have to walk 2 miles to the only open restaurant on the island and still we split an entrée.

8. When the tough looking longshoremen types at the bar in the restaurant check me out my friend is nervous – I am relieved – if I can’t get attention on a deserted island it might be the end of my acting career.

9. Appalled to realize that being in a beach house means you, your clothes and your hair will smell like mildew the entire time- not attractive.

10. Spent 26 minutes scanning the channels of unfamiliar satellite TV to find “Project Runway” instead of playing the requisite board games.

The No Notice Audition

Published September 10, 2009 acting , Actress , auditions , show business , Uncategorized 7 Comments
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I got home yesterday afternoon after doing six loads of laundry at the local laundromat. The laundromat that uses all the machines to do laundry for people who have their laundry picked up and dropped off. Cranky used to be one of those people.

But tough times call for drastic action like doing your own laundry.

It’s not a people friendly place this laudromat. Because there is no room for people. It is so narrow that no matter where you are you are in the way. Putting your clothes in the washer- you’re in the way. Taking them out of the dryer- you’re in the way. Folding your laundry- you’re in the way. It’s so narrow it’s like a bowling alley lined with washing machines and dryers.

And everyone hates doing laundry, so everyone there is disgruntled. Especially the maids who are there doing other people’s laundry. So it was me and the maids yesterday. And Jose the laundry man. Jose, who used to deliver my laundry in better times. Jose, who looked at me like “What are you doing here?” when I walked in pushing my loser shopping cart. Jose, who had to explain to me, “Put quarters in three time.” When I put one round of quarters in and stared at the machine confusedly when it didn’t spin. Jose, with the huge sweat rings under his arms, because not only is it cramped, it has no air conditioning and maintains a steady temperature of 100 degrees.

So I spent the afternoon sweating like a bull and having people say; “Excuse me!” “Excuse me!” “Excuse Me!”

So even though I had spent three hours at the gym the night before, I did not wash my hair because I knew the laundry sweat sauna was on deck for the next day.

And I get home at three o’clock and there is an email from a casting agent asking me to come in before 7pm for a call for a print ad. Usually I would think, “Oh please, are they kidding?” But tough times require that Cranky tough it out.

So even though I have dirty horrible hair, blood shot eyes and am traumatized from the sauna/laudromat I have to go.

They say they want you to come in looking like a fifties housewife. So I get out the heat rollers I haven’t used in ten years, plug them in and hop in the shower. No time to wash my hair. Get out. Put rollers in dirty hair. Use half a bottle of Visine to remove the the laundry heat aggravation. Put on a blouse, a ton of pearls and red lipstick and pink blush only on the cheeks.

I run down to the elevator and practically run over my neighbor who is getting off. He says; “Hey Cranky! You look beautiful.” This is great because I was afraid I was looking like a dork. We all need someone to say we look good when we are on the way to an audition.

I get to the office and the audition is a three second mug shot session. “Stand on the T and hold your number near your face.” SNAP. “”Turn and face left.” SNAP. “Face forward and look proud and warm.” SNAP.

So snap I am outta there, and for six blocks I wondered if my proud expression was effusive enough. It’s hard to look proud. Was I proud of someone else? (I went with this one.) Or proud of myself? Or proud as in arrogant? I keep making the face I made for the last shot as I walk down the street. Does it FEEL proud enough? Do I look like a psycho walking down Sixth Avenue?

It’s amazing how much post audition analytical thought can be spawned by the three-second audition. Especially when things are slow. Especially when I am doing my own laundry.

Daryl Eisenberg on Twitter – No No

Published August 19, 2009 acting , Actress , auditions , film , show business , Uncategorized 1 Comment
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Cranky read with outraged horror about the casting director who was Twittering nasty comments during an audition. One Daryl Eisenberg. Sounds like a freak. She was making her personal casting dos and don’ts list while watching performers open their hearts to her. She was thinking about her following more that the people in the room. The people who spent hours learning something to show her. The people that got dressed up to meet her. The people who traveled on the Africa hot subway in the New York summer.  One of her Tweets was; “Multi-tasking. Auditioning #50 of the day and sending out an e-mail blast!”  Nice.  And tweeting about how listening to the singing made her feel like her “ears were bleeding.”

How much does that suck? I mean we don’t tweet about THEM. Because them might give us our next job. Even though a lot of them are weirdoes with major personality defects, which are aggravated by the power over people they feel, often leading to advanced megalomania. You know who I’m talking about. The ones who act like mean bulldogs just because they can. The ones who hate you if you look a little too happy when you walk into the room.

Like the other day when I had a callback for The Onion News Network. I love the Onion. I was excited to be a part of it because it is sooooo funny. I had the funnest audition. The casting director was a doll. The woman running the camera was a cutie. They were laughing while I did the sides. I got clear direction. I felt good.

Then came the callback. They had me in so “I could meet the director.” The minute I walked into the room she gave me major bad vibes. I think I looked too relaxed and happy to see the casting director. So Ms. Director was gonna show who was really in charge. She had long thick dark curly hair covering half of her face. Never trust that. And she did not introduce herself. Hate that.

She started talking on and on and on about where my character was and how she was feeling and where she was and Republican this blah blah blah blah blah. It became mesmerizing. Then she says, “So how do you feel about that?” “Huh?” I think, “Um, ah well it makes sense,” I say, “These are the people who love Ann Coulter.” “NO,” she says, “How do YOU feel about it?” My mind is like, “Wait. What does she mean? Me the person or me the character? Maybe she wants to know how my character feels about it.” So I describe in detail how excited my character is about what is going on. When I finish she looks exasperated and says, “That’s nice but could you use some of the dialogue from the script?”

I am now the retard in the room. The audition had begun unbeknownst by me. She was just blabbering and her last sentence was supposed to be followed by the dialogue from the script. This is a first. It’s usually, “Slate your name. I’ll ask you a question and you reply.” But Ms. Director wants to fuck me up and show how smart she is. So I do the dialogue. I have memorized it, but at the end I use the word desiccated instead of the word decomposed, because she has rattled me. And to make it worse I point up that I switched words. I do it again. I use the correct word but can’t even remember what I said. “Did I say desiccated?” I ask. “No” she says. “Thank you,” she says. I get up and leave the room. That was AWFUL. I had to go straight to Sephora across the street and get a new lipstick to cheer myself up.

It’s amazing that someone completely humorless is a director at The Onion. How did that happen? I think she has them snowed into thinking she’s an ARTISTE.

So that’s that. But who knows.

I once went to an audition for a print ad and when I was in the room I assumed they were taking stills, so I moved and freezed, moved and freezed, moved and freezed. They were filming! I was doing a robot fucking dance and they were filming. Oh shit. I was really the retard in the room. But later they ended up casting me for an editorial print job. They are two funny guys who are both very Seth Rogen. They walk around the casting office in socks. I have this terrible feeling they went home that night and smoked joints with their friends and watched the robot lady audition tape and rolled on the floor laughing. But that’s like my job right? To be entertaining. Even if I didn’t mean it.

Job Hunting on Craig’s List -Oxymoron?

Published August 11, 2009 job huntiing , Uncategorized 3 Comments
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Ah, excuse me but have any of you looked for a job lately? Specifically anybody ever apply for all the millions of jobs on Craig’s List? If one of you has gotten a job this way you have to tell me, OK? Cause so far it is either nothing or a world of weirdos.

I decided to try to look for ways to make some extra income and a friend told me that there are lots of jobs on Craig’s List. I did not let the thought of the”Craig’s List Killer” deter me. No.

One of the jobs I applied for was as an Administrative Assistant.

I actually got a response, which on Craig’s list is a minor miracle. It was a miracle until I read the response- then it was more like a fucked up scam.

Here is the email from the prospective employer:

Re: Professionally Oriented Administrative Assistant with exp.
Date: August 8, 2009 10:20:13 AM EDT
To: crankyactress@earthlink.net

Hello, I’m glad to hear from you concerning the available position in our company. This is a Data Entry work from home job. Your resume was reviewed and successfully approved,i think you should be given a chance for an interview online via yahoo IM,Set up a yahoo ID and instantly add up and message the (Personnel Manager) Roger Connie on his yahoo IM(atnworldinc) for your Briefing and Interview online.

Kinds Regards,
Heather Milligan TNT Company.

Somehow this doesn’t sound like it was written by a native English speaker. It sounds more like someone who learned grammar in the same thatched hut in Africa as the guys offering you $88,000.00 if you’ll give them access to your checking account. “Kinds Regards?” –does that mean like a few different types of regards? And both words are capitalized. Love the failed attempt at business formality.

And isn’t it a bit creepy that they advertised for and administrative assistant and now it is actually some fucked up at home data entry job?

The instant message interview. Wow. I am really scraping the bottom of the barrel. How is this supposed to work? I went online and didn’t have the patience. Cranky has no patience for this crap. So instead I entertained myself by writing a reply email to “Heather.”

My reply:

Hi Heather -

Glad to hear from you concerning the position in your company.

Nice my resume was a success. What was it approved for?

Thanks for the chance at the interview online. I think CHANCE is the key word here, as I do not know how to catch Mr. Connie when he is online.

I unfortunately have to use the bathroom occasionally and also must grocery shop and eat meals, hence I cannot be staring at the Yahoo screen continually to catch when Mr. Connie is available.

So far all Saturday afternoon he was either busy or offline. It’s amazing how quickly he went from busy to offline instantly without one second of available in between.

Your message mentioned the term “add up. I’m afraid I don’t know what I am supposed to add up. Unless I should put two and two together and realize I am never gonna get an “interview” with Mr. Connie.

The IM interview is new to me. Is there some kind of trick or something in actually getting one? Does the person who can stare at their computer screen the longest win? Is this a skill that you require for this position?

Thank you for your assistance.

Confused regards,

Cranky

Then there were the ones that asked you to take a quiz right off the bat. A QUIZ.

You were supposed to cut and paste the quiz into an email and send it to them.

Here is the quiz:

A company takes a 20% deposit of the total amount of an order. The company sends the order out in partial shipments until the order is completely shipped. The company holds the deposit until the final shipments are made. The company uses the deposit money to pay for the final shipments. The company has to calculate how to use the deposit money so that there will be exactly enough money to cover the cost of the final shipment. The company does not want to have any deposit money left over.

Ah, um I had to take a break and go lie down after reading this.

1. Client A places an order for $8000. How much should their deposit be?

This question must be to eliminate the really stupid people. You know the ones who think the sun revolves around the earth.

2. Client A has been shipped shipments of $1000 and $4000. A new shipment is ready to be shipped for the amount of $2000. How much will the next (the final) shipment be (there are no shipping costs)?

Again – 1 plus 4 plus 2 equals 7- DUH!!! That leaves $1000.00

3. How much of the original deposit should you use for the current shipment of $2000 so as to leave the exact amount remaining for the next and final shipment?

3. Client A wants to return merchandise and also is wondering about the process you used to determine how much deposit is being used and how much is being kept. The company does not accept returns. Please write a detailed email explaining this and how much deposit is being used for the $2000 shipment and why you are keeping a portion of the deposit for the next shipment.

A detailed response?  Do I like know any the details?  All I have is a headache.

Now I have a question.
1. Do I want to work for a company that does not accept returns?

The answer would be no.

Summer Is A Bummer

Published July 23, 2009 acting , Actress , auditions , film , show business , Uncategorized 8 Comments
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There’s a thing about being an actress that happens a lot. You can’t wait to get a job. And then when you get a job,  you can’t wait until it’s over. And then when it’s over you’re afraid you’ll never get another job.

This is my current state of mind. Add the fact that it is the depths of summer and NO ONE is calling me to audition-you no longer have CRANKY ACTRESS-you have CRAZY ACTRESS.

I almost agreed to go to Philadelphia for an audition for an Indy film. Not just Philadelphia, but when I got to Philadelphia I would have to take another train to some scary place called Jenkintown. So I would be doing approximately 5 hours of round trip of traveling for the CHANCE of a role.

My first tip off was when my husband answered the phone and a guy said, “Ah, um, is this an actor?” It was the director. He didn’t know who he was calling. But I still was gonna go.  It was a total desperation move.

And who was I gonna meet when I got there? Freddy? Is there a crazy man inviting actresses to come and audition in obscure towns in Pennsylvania? Are the actresses never seen again? Does Freddy tell them before he kills them, “Look, you had a chance to use your head. You could have refused to come to Jenkintown. But you came of your own free will.  You did. You came. You traveled five hours for an audition. What kind of idiot does that? You are so stupid you deserve to die.”

I didn’t tell anyone because I knew they would tell me I was nuts. I only told a very close friend. She said, “Ah, Cranky if you need to get out of the house that bad why don’t you go to the beach?” Then she looked at me with that funny look people give you when they are thinking to themselves, “Geez I didn’t know she was that bad off.”

Doing a play where the script had MAJOR problems is torture. But not doing anything is WORSE TORTURE. So today I donated five pairs of shoes to housing works, rearranged my closet, hand washed all the hand wash, and checked facebook where people are making fun of Sarah Palin, talking about Neti Pots and playing Bejeweled.

And now I’m thinking maybe I SHOULD go to Jenkintown.

Cast Pictures Anyone?

Published July 10, 2009 acting , Actress , comedy , show business , Uncategorized 2 Comments
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Had a performance last night with the FACHADICK COMPANY. They asked the actors to be ready and dressed in costume by 5:30 so they could take cast pictures. So I would have to get there at 4:30 to put on makeup and squeeze into my skintight gown and then sit around until 7pm with the spaghetti straps boring into my shoulders. And then do the show. Do the show. After hanging around in costume for two and a half hours.

All they had to say was, “These pictures are for you people! We’re doing this for you.” Oh really? Really? They’re for me? Just what I always wanted! Pictures of myself with the FACHADICK COMPANY that I can look at for the rest of my life and reminisce about my mini nervous breakdown at the Westway Diner. So my answer was, “Too busy, can’t make it.”

So I walked into the theater at 6pm yesterday and everyone was sitting around the stage and in the audience. I ask the director, “Oh, are you done with the pictures already?” “Ah, no,” he says, “the photographer never showed up.” Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha. I got that wonderful feeling inside, when you trusted your gut and you were right. My husband’s grandmother would have said I was QVELLING. Yes, yes, I was QVELLING inside.

Then he said, “But he might show up, so if you want to hurry and get your dress on you can get in the pictures.” Cranky had no intention of hurrying. Cranky just gave him a blank stare. When he didn’t show up for tech he lost his director status in my mind. So I go to the powder room. And when I come back the stage manager says to the director, “Did you tell Cranky the photographer isn’t coming so she doesn’t have to hurry?” My response was a genuine guffaw. I didn’t mean to laugh in his face. I really didn’t. It just came out.

We had a very kind audience. They were laughing, laughing, laughing. You gotta love that.

During the performance a couple of us were hanging out on the fire escape stairs waiting for our entrances and two people from the show in the theater two floors above came walking down the stairs. They went right to the entrance to the stage and mouthed, “Is this the bathroom?”

Was Cranky tempted to say yes? Was there a kernel of truth in that because there was crap involved? Would it have hurt the play if two strangers wandered onstage? Well we will never know because Cranky did the right thing and directed them to fly hallway, where now half the lights are burned out, so you can’t see the flies coming.

Opening Night Horrors

Published July 7, 2009 acting , Actress , rehearsal , show business , Uncategorized 5 Comments
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So opening night arrives. Or should I call it opening day? Because we have to be at the theater at 2pm to do our one and only tech and our one and only speed through on the actual stage before the curtain at 7pm.

I take the subway there and a person sitting opposite me on the train is reading “The Secrets of Mental Health.” I don’t know about you, but if I were reading that, I’d be putting a plain brown cover on that puppy. And if I had known what I was in for later, I would have asked if I could borrow it.

I arrive at the theater. The cast is sitting around in the audience. The lead guy who is also the set builder is in an Italian t-shirt in a sweaty frenzy placing furniture on the stage and hammering supports to hold a door in place.

The stage manager is already having a meltdown. “THERE’S NO ONE HERE TO SHOW ME THE LIGHT BOARD! IT WAS IN MY CONTRACT THAT SOMEONE WOULD BE HERE WITH ME! THERE IS NO ONE HERE. HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO FIGURE OUT HOW TO WORK THIS THING?” This is a show with like a million telephone ring cues. And a blackout. Oh-oh.

The director is a no show. I repeat. The director is a NO SHOW!!

The stage manager comes down from the light booth. She lies in the floor in yogic child pose. “Can someone go and get me a beer? And don’t talk to me for the next hour.”

A beer? A beer? Is that gonna help her “figure it out?”

Ok. I’ve been here ten minutes and am asking myself, “WHY WHY WHY?”

Something looks weird to me about the stage. I go and sit in the audience and realize what it is. If you sit on the right side of the audience you cannot see the right side of the stage. The door has been placed downstage and almost in the center on a perfect angle to block all the action stage left. As luck would have it most of my action takes place stage left. No one has thought about sight lines. But you cannot be wielding a hammer and checking sight lines at the same time. This is where a director who shows up comes in handy. I am now thinking they need to change the name of the company to the FACHADICK COMPANY.

I ask Mr. Hammer, “Would you come over her for a minute?” He comes and sits next to me. “You can’t see half the stage,” I tell him. “Hmmm,” he says, “maybe we can move the furniture around a little.” Yeah, maybe if we tip the whole fucking stage and all the furniture slides over to one side everything will work out perfectly.

“That’s not gonna help,” I say, “Most of my action takes place on that side of the stage. If you don’t care, I don’t either.” “Well, you’re in the play so you should be seen,” he says. Like it’s some new idea he just thought of. You mean I’m on the stage because people are supposed to see me? As opposed to in the wings or behind a curtain?

After a little back and forth with the ingénue who delivers two lines from the other side of the door and wants the audience to see her two lines, Italian t-shirt makes the call. “Well, most of the action happens on the stage, so I think we should see the stage,” he says. We are fucking reinventing the wheel here.

We get to the speed through and I am like rattled, tired and tense so I blank TWICE. I mean like totally blank. I could have stood there for an hour and the line wouldn’t have come to me. This is some scary shit. We are opening in 90 minutes.

On my little break I go to the Westway Diner on Eighth Avenue. I sit in the booth. I put my head in my hands and say OUT LOUD, “Dear God Please Help Me!” And I am alone. I am alone and talking to myself. But Eighth Avenue is full of crazies so nobody cares. This is what the FACHADICK COMPANY has driven me to. I order soup. I can’t eat it. I order eggs. I figure it’s two mouthfuls and you get a lot of protein.

I walk back to the theater. I hear the death march in my head. DAH DAH DAH DUM DAH DAH DAH DAH DUM…

I go up to the dressing room. It is up two flights of fire escape stairs. The bathroom is in the basement. You have to walk down fly hallway to get there. Big flies, little flies, all kinda flies must be batted from your face to get to the toilet.
The dressing room isn’t air-conditioned. It is stifling and the ingénue asks that the fan be turned off because she has to flat iron her hair. I just love putting makeup on and then watching it melt off my face.

We begin. My first entrance I feel like and empty shell in sandal heels. “Pull it together,” I tell myself. I start getting it together. Then there is a scene when I am sitting on a loveseat and other cast members enter. The ingénue comes on and stands directly in front of me with her ass in my face. Her butt is literally an inch from my face.  I have a choice.  I can move and look like an actress who is aware of being upstaged, or I can stay. But I have to deliver a line. If I stay where I am and deliver my line is it gonna look like the ingénue is doing ventriloquism with her butt hole? To stay or to go? To stay or to go? I stay and opt for the talking butt.

We get through it without any mishaps.

When I get to the theater the next day, the lead guy tells me he was out drinking until 4am. So when we do the show, he gets his lines twisted. For example, he is supposed to say, “What do you want?” And I answer, “What does anyone want? Sex, Love, etc…” But instead, his hangover leads him to say, “What can I do for you?” So I have to reply, “What could you do for me? What do I want? What does anyone want, etc…..”

But he IS a member of the FACHADICK COMPANY and they have to work hard to stay fachadick. He’s handsome and talented, but being a member of a company that just spews out plays that no one cares about hasn’t done him any favors.  And I’m sure after the many years he has been doing theater it takes work to remain fachadick. But determined to be fachadick he is.

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