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Cranky In Rehearsal

Published June 9, 2009 acting , Actress , rehearsal , show business , Uncategorized Leave a Comment
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So I’ve been rehearsing the play. I like the director. Especially since he has let me do what I want.

When I got the script I realized my character was horribly, grossly overwritten. A bad cliché rich woman from a drawing room comedy circa 1932. “OY VEY” I said to myself, “I’m a better writer than the writer of the play I am acting in. I took a chance and decided to be honest.

After the table read the director told us that if there were any lines that bothered us that needed changing we could discuss it at the next meeting. So we have the next meeting and nobody else had any. And I was like, “Well, let’s go to page 14.” That’s when my character enters. And I worked my way down the page and through the rest of the play. Cutting burning and slashing extraneous words.

For example my character is supposed to say, “Oh, you are just too funny,” and I changed it to, “Funny.” Which is actually much funnier in the circumstances my character is in.

He got it. I love him.

Fighting stilted dialogue is a losing battle.

The director also said to ignore the micro managing annoying cloying stage directions that are there before and after every fucking piece of dialogue. All I have to see is something like, “she says sarcastically,” to make me lose respect for the writer. I’ll say it however the hell I want. That’s why you hired me.

I’m also getting to know the group I am rehearsing a play with. I’m a guest artist and it’s a company and every company has its own culture.

This is a new one. Rehearsal by committee. People have opinions about other people’s characters and what they should be doing. Especially one guy who I have dubbed the “REHEARSAL NAZI.” He takes over. The director says two words and Nazi jumps up and says, “Wait. I should go here, He should go there. She should sit there.” And everybody does it.

The blocking first method (if you can call it a method) totally sucks wind. Organically figuring out where your character really wants to go onstage and why is THE ONLY thing that makes sense. Otherwise you get that mannequinesque feeling that you have to work really hard to shake.

You have to like work backwards and fill in why you are doing what you are doing after you are already doing it.

I’ve learned the hard way that even though they have given you a stack of postcards and a beautiful email invite for the show, do not send one of those suckers out until you fell solid in the role. Which may sometimes be never.

There is nothing worse than knowing that people you know are in the audience and that you are moving around the stage nonsensically in a way that shows you are doing what you are doing because the director told you to do it.
Oh no, I have learned.

But I am staying calm. Aren’t you proud of me? I get to wear a fabulous outfit. I keep reminding myself and that keeps me happy.

And by some miracle I am quite often able to pull a performance out of my ass even after only counter intuitive rehearsals.

Yesterday in rehearsal I overheard the rehearsal Nazi tell another actor; “No, you don’t understand. You might think this scene is about you. But actually every scene in this play is about me.” AND HE WASN’T JOKING.

And I found out last night that our first time working in the theater is opening night. Never done that before and if I didn’t have a sense of humor I’d be scared.

Then the director goes, “Listen people. I want you to take care of yourselves. If one of you gets sick everyone is gonna get it.” Then the stage manager says. “I know but I’m under so much stress, I feel like I’m a little under the weather already.” And the director says, “WELL, THAT’S OK, YOU DON’T HAVE TO KISS ANYBODY.” How sweet. Since her sickness won’t disrupt the production she can go ahead and GET AS SICK AS SHE WANTS. She can die really as far as the director is concerned because the curtain WILL STILL GO UP without her. This is how single-minded directors and producers get about projects. I know, I’ve been there. I’ve had to ask myself if I was putting on a show AND losing my humanity.

I told the director that he was being very Coppola. As in “Apocalypse Now” when Martin Sheen’s heart trouble threatened to hold up production. “He might die,” someone said. “He’s not dead until I say he is dead,” said Coppola. The director just gave me a weird look.

The Fucked Festival

Published June 1, 2009 acting , Actress , comedy , show business , Uncategorized , writing 2 Comments
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It all started when I tried to make a phone call on my husband’s IPod. “What are you doing?, he said. “Huh?” I said, “trying to make a call.” “That’s my IPod!” he said, as I tapped the screen with my forefinger. “Oh. Really?” I said. Oh oh.

I thought I was keeping it together really well. I was like, “Wow I am under duress and I am handling it very well.” Then these kind of things started happening and I realized I wasn’t handling it well at all.

A few days later I picked up my cell phone and listened for a dial tone before I dialed. Oh oh.

This is the kind of stuff that happens to me when I’m stressed.

Then I got up this morning and told my husband I wouldn’t be home for dinner tonight because I had a rehearsal.

Then I emailed a director to ask if I could bring a guest to tomorrow night’s screening of a film I was in.

Then I got a call from a friend and she consoled me when I told her how I had spaced and had missed an audition last Thursday afternoon.

Then I emailed my scene partner to tell him we could work tonight if we went up early because my rehearsal was at 8pm.

AND THEN I got an email from the director saying, “Huh? The screening is NEXT WEEK.”

So then I ran to my Filofax and realized I had had it flipped open to the wrong page and had made all these plans based on NEXT WEEK’S schedule. So I had to call my husband, email the director, email my scene partner and change everything and find the sides for the audition I didn’t miss.

This is not good.

I have an ex-boyfriend from high school who is basically a shut in. He stays up all night watching TV, gets up at 2pm, takes his psychotropic medication and starts watching TV again. Once when we were talking he said, “You know Crank, I know all about what is going on. I know all the news and everything. But they never tell you what day it is.”

I immediately sent him a couple of World Wildlife calendars with a note saying:

Dear Bob.

Not knowing what day it is is NOT ATTRACTIVE.

Cranky

Oh Oh.

Now Bob and I are in the same boat. And I had to fix it. So I looked at my life and identified the stressors. A sick relative that I take the loser bus on a horrible trip to depressed upstate to visit. Can’t change that. Rehearsing a show. Don’t wanna change that. The specter of co-producing a piece that I wrote with a summer festival in NYC. Ah-hah! Must change that.

I realized that my mind has been going in circles ever since I got accepted into this apparently fucked festival. I was notified in April that I had been accepted and would get the performance dates by May 6th. I needed the dates to figure out what the hell to do. The festival runs for a month and if my dates were far enough from the dates of the play that I’m IN, then I was gonna perform the piece myself. But if the dates were close to the play I’m IN, then I would have cast another actress. It’s a 20-minute one-woman piece. Also, just in general it would be kinda nice to know what the hell I can DO for the rest of the summer.

So May 6th comes and goes and no dates. So does May 7th. 8th, 9th, 10th, 11, 12th. 13th, 14th, 15th, 16th. 17th. 18th, 19th, and 20th. I send the festival four equally spaced emails explaining that I cannot proceed until I know the performance dates. Do I get an answer? OH NO. Oh oh.

All this time my mind is stuck going in circles. “Should I start working on it? Should I talk to the actresses I know and love? Should I start working on it? Should I have an audition? I wonder if that blond actress I like is doing anything now? Is someone gonna wanna learn a 20-minute piece for three or four performances?”

I feel like this festival is now torturing me. On purpose. How long does it take to make up a schedule? Does the festival care about the playwrights? Or does it just wanna collect the door? Is this usury? Do I hate them now? AH, YEAH.

So I run to my computer and write this email:

Hi All -

I’m sorry to report that I have accepted a role in a production that runs until mid-July.

I have been waiting to hear the performance dates for my piece since May 6th – the original date given to me that we would be receiving our dates.

I’m terribly sorry but I have to withdraw from the festival, as I can no longer keep my life on hold waiting to figure out what I can and cannot do.

I know you must have your reasons but it seem inconsiderate to me and a sign of bad organization.

It does not give me a good feeling about the festival to be continually put off about what I will be doing with my life for the summer.

I do need to be able to make plans and say yea or nay to job offers.

Cranky

And the minute I send it I can think again.

Excuse Me Mr. Director WHAT DID YOU SAY?

Published May 18, 2009 acting , Actress , rehearsal , show business , Uncategorized Leave a Comment
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Had a first table read of the play the other night. Everybody was very nice. Not a psycho in the bunch. No one vying for all the attention or anything. It’s a theater company so they have a lot of repeats so the nuts probably don’t get asked back.

I kinda hate the first table read. Because even though I shouldn’t, I feel like I am meeting the other actors for the first time and they have never seen my work and they are judging how good an actor I am and there is not much I can do because I am still finding my way and I know I shouldn’t feel this way. My insecurities are showing I know.

Anyway the director has the aura of a former whiz kid or something. I know he got all A’s and probably skipped a grade. And he was friends with all his teachers. And was in every club. You know bright. Talks fast. Thinks fast. That’s good. Smart is good.

So before we start he says, “I know everyone says don’t try to do anything on the first read, just read. But I don’t want that. Try to do something.” OK NOW YOU’VE MADE IT WORSE. So we all become laugh whores and push for the laughs.

When we finish the play he says he has a problem with two scenes. “I noticed people were yawning while you read those last two scenes.” He is talking about tightening up the writing of the scenes, but I know the actors who read the scenes can’t hear him now because the words “ YAWNING WHILE YOU READ, YAWNING WHILE YOU READ, YAWNING WHILE YOU READ, YAWNING WHILE YOU READ are now reverberating in their minds and they can’t hear anything else. Hence the uncomfortable phony panic smiles on their faces and the glazed expressions in their eyes. And  their attempts to nod at the appropriate times to show they know what he is talking about.

Eh, uh I don’t think he should have mentioned the yawning thing. Actors are so like hard on themselves and sensitive you gotta be careful what you say to us.

Directors need organization, talent, intelligence and sensitivity. I think. I once worked with a film director who seemed to specialize in saying inappropriate things to actors. I was doing a scene in a kitchen where my character was desperate. We did a few takes and it went fine. Then the director said, “Just for the hell of it take it really far. Go all out.” So we do the take and I was shaking and crying. When we finish the DP looked impressed and turned to the director and said, “What do you think? Should we print that one?” And the director turned to him and said, “No, no, that was way too over the top, no!” “Ah, HELLO I AM THREE FEET AWAY FROM YOU. I CAN HEAR YOU!” I thought. Thanks. Nice. What am I a moron? I asked one of the crew about it. “How can he say this stuff? Does he think I’m a retard?” “No,” they said, “he talks like that to all the actors.” Luckily for us he ended up a film editor. In a dark studio. Where he doesn’t have to talk to anybody. Good thing.

Actors Get In Line

Published May 11, 2009 acting , Actress , comedy , film , show business , Uncategorized 2 Comments
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I woke up on Thursday morning to find this email in my inbox. It was sent at midnight  on Wednesday:

Hi Cranky,

I’m an undergraduate student shooting a short for my Columbia film
class with Laura Wolfstein. She recommended you to me personally. My
project is about a reclusive former film star and her relationship
with her guilt-ridden son. I’d love for you to be in it. Would you
be interested and available this Friday? It’s such late notice but if
so, I’d be happy to send you the script right away.

Thanks for considering this on short notice. Hope to be in touch soon.

Michelle Kan

So it is Thursday morning at nine am and I am reading this thing. My first instinct is to say no. I mean I am Cranky and it is nine am.

And I’m like wondering why anyone would wait this late to cast something they are shooting TOMORROW. But maybe the actress dropped out. That happens. So I decide to try to be a good egg and all and answer immediately:

So at 9:00 am on Thursday morning I write:

Hi Michelle-

Do you mean tomorrow? How long is the script?

I think I can do it. Send me the script, OK?

Cranky

So I wait for a reply. Nothing at 10. Nothing at 11. Nothing at 12. Nothing at 1.

Now I kinda need to know what I am doing tomorrow. And the window of opportunity for actually studying the script is closing, as I will be busy from three o’clock on. So now I start obsessing about something I didn’t want to do in the first place.

So I go to the computer at 1:45pm and write:

Hi Again -

Could you call me when you get this so I know if we are on for tomorrow?

Thanks so much,

Cranky

So at 2pm I get a called from a wimpy girl saying, “Ah um, oh hi, ah, actually I found someone. But now I need to find a guy to play the son. So I might not be able to film tomorrow. If I don’t find someone to play the son today to shoot tomorrow are you available the day after tomorrow if I have to do that?”

Ok, so now this whole thing is giving me a fucking HEADACHE.

Besides the apparent complete retardation of this director there is the question of WHEN she found someone. She emailed me at midnight saying how she would LOVE for me to do it. I answered her at 9am. So what does this mean? Are there actresses poised at their computers between midnight and 9am ready to reply to casting inquiries? The answer would be YES.

And how many actresses got the “I’d love for you to be in it” email? Why would you love us? Because we are breathing?

These situations where the race goes to the swiftest are the suckiest most demoralizing situations for someone in the arts. Because it’s not about art. It’s about who got there first.

The worst example of this was when I went to an EPA for a theater out in the Hamptons. The bus from the train station was full of actors going to the same place. When we disembarked from the bus everyone realized that we were all going to sign in and audition in that order. So they started to run. It was a fucking ACTOR STAMPEDE down the main street of Sag Harbor. I’m not kidding. What did that look like? People dressed up in city clothes. Guys in jackets and women in heels and character shoes full out stampeding down Main Street, and this was before reality TV. It was sooooo embarrassing. My friend and I refused to run. She has since dropped out of acting. Do you blame her? So we had to wait like two and a half hours to go in because we didn’t join in the panic jog.

Actors feel like they are always waiting on lines and sometimes get so used to being ill treated that if you like offer them a glass of water and a place to sit it’s like huge.

I used to get my headshots done at a place on 14th Street, which has since gone out of business. Well deserved if you ask me. It was uncomfortable and not nice. And there was always a huge line that was right there as soon as you got off the elevator.

The guy who worked the counter had a drinking problem and somehow kept his job. Maybe they figured he was good enough to wait on actors. I don’t know. Anyway, he was an evil drunken southern queen.

So one day I am waiting on a line to pick up headshots and the evil queen sees me. He yells out the most offensive thing he could possibly say to me and laughs. I just turned on my heels and left. I was done. He came out from behind the counter and chased after me and said, “Oh, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry! Come back. I didn’t mean that.”

So I went back in with him. I did need to get the headshots. What else was I gonna do? I turned to him and said, “LOOK, I GET MY BALLS BUSTED ALL OVER TOWN I DON’T MY BALLS BUSTED WHEN I’M PAYING FOR PICTURES!”

And another actor turned to me and said, “Wow! You actually have any balls left?”

Behind Every Great Actress Is A Great Dermatologist

Published May 6, 2009 acting , Actress , comedy , film , show business , Uncategorized 2 Comments
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I went to the dermatologist today. I am going to be meeting with a commercial agent soon and I want to stay in the fiber category and not be pushed into the arthritis medicine category.

The guy I go to is a total fucking magician. Walk in feeling decrepit and walk out feeling like a sex bomb. Invisible on the subway on the way there and leered at by the Puerto Ricans on the way home.

It was so weird how I found him. It was serendipity really. I was in Bigelow Pharmacy in the Village one day and I noticed this guy who REALLY seemed to know his products. And he looked soooooo fabulous. He had a powder blue shearling coat with a big shaggy white collar and cuffs and great hair.

So I casually shadowed him to see if I could pick up some free beauty tips. We started a conversation about the pros and cons of various brands of lip plumpers. And I casually threw into the conversation a question about what a girl should do if she wanted to like refresh her look. “Oh sweetie, go to Dr. Colbert,” he said.

His name was Zac. I found out later that he is like an upper crust hair guy with only private clients who made his name doing The Spice Girls. Cranky can pick ‘em.

So I went directly to Dr. Colbert. It was all so serene and nice. And Amy Sedaris is a fan of the docs and if you’ve ever seen her when she is not playing “Strangers With Candy” she is a total cutie. And saw Naomi Campbell goes there and we know how picky she is so he really must be a magician.

He is also the dermatologist for Cate Blanchett, Rachel Weisz, Siena Miller, Naomi Watts, Julianna Margulies, Angelina Jolie(!), Adriana Lima and all those Victoria Secret models who stomp around in their wings.

I found this out later.  If I had known before I would have been too intimidated to go.

But he is totally nice and fun and normal and everything.  I didn’t get the “You’re not a VIP vibe” there at all.

And everyone looks like natural.  No Platypus lips go walking out of his office.  Nobody looks like “The Real Housewives of Orange County.”

It’s all about peeling it off and plumping it up, really. It’s so life changing for an actress who knows she is going to be stuck doing a close up at 4:00 am. “Don’t get too close with that camera!” I used to think.

So the fates brought me to him. He is even a theater lover and a friend of Terrance McNally’s. What are the chances of that? And he thinks little theaters are doing good stuff. “The smaller the better” he said to me when I was telling him about my latest minuscule project. He was a gypsy before becoming an MD so he GETS IT. And when he is with you he acts like he has all the time in the world and focuses just on you. That’s nice. And having someone who values what you’re like doing in life when you are a non-famous actress is so refreshing.

There is a well-known psychotherapist who sends her clients to Dr. Colbert. She believes that a visit with him will increase their dopamine levels. According to Wikipedia “dopamine is released by naturally rewarding experiences such as FOOD, SEX, DRUGS” and now apparently by DERMATOLOGY. I might be on a dermatological high as I write this. I don’t know.

So basically dermatology is better than anti-depressants.

He is coming out with a book now. “The High School Reunion Diet” (Your Youth Recovered in 30 Days). Cranky is way too neurotic to ever attend a reunion of any kind. I cannot sustain looking happy and smiling incessantly for an event like that.

But the “Youth Recovered in 30 Days” part will have me following the program. There was an advance copy in the office and I wanted to steal it, but decided I will wait a month like every one else until it comes out. He told me it will have a website in a month or something when I wouldn’t let go of the book.

So any poor suffering artist actress will tell you it is worth eating ramen and hot dogs for a couple of months for a visit to David Colbert.

In case you want to see the lovely office here is the link:

http://www.nydermatologygroup.com

PS – Got one of the parts I auditioned for, so the”positive reinforcement with restaurants therapy” really actually worked.

To Show Or Not To Show That Is The Question

Published May 1, 2009 acting , Actress , auditions , comedy , rehearsal , show business , Uncategorized 1 Comment
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Cranky had to ask herself a hard question yesterday. I got a call for an audition and had to ask myself,” Do I really want to be in another show”?

Film you’re in and you’re out. Theater is a bigger time commitment. And I’ve shied away from theater because I was traumatized by the last psycho director I worked with at LaMaMa.

So the group asking me to audition sends me the script. I don’t like it. The character I was auditioning for has another character put his hand on her breast – TWICE. Yuck. And the ending was completely stupid I thought. This is where the English Major and the actress in my mind go to battle. Because you can be a SNOB or you can WORK. But you can’t be BOTH. Unless you are famous. And we all know I’m not famous, so I’m fucked.

So I forced myself to work on it. They were very professional. Love that. They sent me the whole play to read and the exact sides I would be reading. And an appointment time. THANK YOU.

And by working on it I realized the dialogue was really good. Maybe the play wasn’t so bad and my phobia was tricking me into not liking it because I’ve become gun shy about doing theater. My neuroses was making me hyper critical.

So when I got off the subway and I was walking through Hell’s Kitchen to the theater, I made a deal with myself. “See that restaurant over there?” I asked myself. “Well if you do a good job and get the part you can go out after the show there,” I told myself. Good, bad or mediocre, every show has the upside of going out after with friends. Cranky loves that.

Also, I told myself, “Just think of the bumper crop of new stories sure to pop up during the many days and days and hours and hours of a theater rehearsal process.”

So I was in a positive head when I went into the waiting area. I sat down to work some more on the script. I had given myself an extra fifteen minutes so I could sit quietly and get into character.

And as per usual another actress who was also auditioning came in and started talking really loud to some guy involved with the theater. “Oh wow! Hi! Great to see you!! I know this is gonna be a great project, but I’m not sure if I will have time because I’m really involved with SoHo Rep. They are such nice people there. But, I mean I want to stay out there. I really need to be out there acting. It would be cool to be involved here too, you know?” she said.

I refused to be an audience for these antics and I got up and went and sat on the other side of the room. Especially since the actress had her ass in my face. Was she sending me a message? When the guy left, she turned around and gave me the phony “I hate you” smile. “I hate you too,” my blank stare back said.

A child actor went in to read before me. His Dad tiptoed over and put his ear on the door so he could listen. This is some sad shit. If Dad keeps this up his kid has NO CHANCE. Oh, and the mother called on the cell phone to wish the kid LUCK before he went in. Nooooooo. Gag me. Leave the kid the hell alone. Grown up actors have to sometimes spend years working their way back to that openness, that sense of play. Except for the feral ones like Russell Crowe. And these parents are squashing it out of a ten-year-old.

Cranky opened her mouth and told the Dad, “You gotta let him go. Let him go…..” Dad chuckled and said, “ I get so nervous for him.” HOPELESS.

So I went in and read my two scenes and did a good job and everything. I overcame my theaterophobia inflicted by the insane Italian director. I allowed myself to be inspired. I utilized Cranky therapy. The promise of fun nights in restaurants AFTER the show did the trick.

The Stupidest Casting Email Ever

Published April 28, 2009 acting , auditions , film , show business , Uncategorized 4 Comments
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Got an email the other day that was mostly incomprehensible to me. Like I didn’t get the point of it or anything. Just reading it was major league irritating. Couldn’t believe how stupid it was so kept reading it over and over and irritated myself even more.
Here it is:

“Hello
Thank you for the prompt response, all information is currently being processed.”

Hello- you have only said a few words and I already hate you. “Processed?” Why do you sound like the auto-response I get from JCrew when I place an order? More familiar with online shopping than with casting perhaps?

“The last few successful applicants will be responded to in the next couple of days, with an invite to the auditions.”

Ok, now it sounds like some fucked up sweepstakes or something. “The last few successful applicants?” All this needs is a “SO ACT NOW” at the end of it. So very Publisher’s Clearing House.

“If you would like to contact me personally, or maybe have a discussion about anything regarding the film, auditions etc, I am always about on Ind-E-Focus.”

Ah, no, I really DON’T want to contact you personally. Why would I want to contact you personally? Advanced begging? I know absolutely NOTHING about this film. What project are you talking about? Does it have a name? Also “always about” is a nauseating turn of phrase,

“As I mentioned in my original casting call, I am using Ind-E-Focus to keep an online account of all cast and crew applicants, it is a lot easier for me to keep all of your details here and respond to you instantly.”

Ah, easy for you. What about me? And what is so instant about it? I think email is pretty instant. And whatever you “mentioned” I don’t remember. I don’t remember reading anybody’s casting call. No one does. We hit “reply” and send our info and forget about it. If we did remember all of them we would have to be like rain man like. And why would I be interested in how you are keeping track of all the “applicants”?

“I will look out for you on Ind-E-Focus, any doubts of my whereabouts, check my profile page under the username NaimaGeraldson.”

No, I have no doubts about your WHEREABOUTS, only your IQ. I seriously don’t know what this means. Like I am sitting around wondering where Naima is? Is she at the supermarket? Is she online shopping at JCrew? I wonder where she is?

“There you may personal message me and send across your details.”

I already sent a headshot and resume. What details?  My mood at the moment?  And I still can’t figure out where or why why why.

“I have created a post in the message boards titled System Defect, but it has now been locked, however, keep checking this post.”

Great idea. I have nothing else to do. I will definitely keep checking it until it is unlocked.  No problem. I am already loving how “instant” this all is. Sounds like the brain trust on this project is out to lunch. Great idea sending everyone to a message board that is locked. That is so original. I’m sure your project is going to be super organized when in production.

“I will be informing everyone when the audition process is finalized and the applicants have all been chosen.
Best of Luck
Naima Geraldson”

Best of Luck? What is this the lottery? Are all our names on little balls and are they are spinning in some cage somewhere and the winners are gonna pop out or something?

Out of curiosity I went to the website and could find nothing. No Naima, no postings with the title system defect. Nothing. This is one of the top weird casting emails I have ever gotten. Once again, actors want to be contacted with an audition time and place. Whatever happens in between is your business.

Just to annoy the annoyer I sent this reply to Naima:

“Hi Naima -

Just found this email in my inbox. What is this about? Am I supposed to do something? What project is this?

Thanks,

Cranky”

A little of a bit of inanity for the inane.

Port Of No Authority

Published April 23, 2009 comedy , Uncategorized Leave a Comment
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Every time my husband and I go somewhere in the car we have a ritual. As we pull out of the garage and plug in the itunes I turn to him and say, “I love driving!” and he says, “Yeah? What part of driving do you like?” Because Cranky Queen of the Subways does not drive. Cranky is strictly a passenger.

And yesterday I realized I have to do something about this. Yesterday, when I had to take the loser bus to visit an ailing relative in a hospital in an area where no trains go. A loser bus from Port Authority. The loser station.

I have some traumatic memories of buses and yesterday brought them all back to me.

Cranky, like every other actor, is the product of a broken home. “Mommy” lived in Westchester and “Daddy” lived in Boston. And one year someone had the brilliant idea to put me on a loser bus instead of having “Daddy” drive back and forth from Boston. I was maybe eleven. Who are these people? What kind of parents were they? Did they even care if I lived or died? Stick an eleven-year old on a bus to another state? This is why I always say you should love your parents, but don’t take them too seriously.

I remember it so clearly. I was totally creeped out. On top of everything it was night. It was winter. I was going to see “Daddy” for Christmas vacation. The first near disaster came when the bus driver pulled into a diner parking lot and told everyone they had a fifteen-minute break.

I went in and sat at the counter.  I felt weird because I had never been in a restaurant alone before either.  I ordered tea. I never drank tea. But for some reason I felt that ordering a cup of tea went along with this whole new grown up life my parents had obviously instantly pushed me into. So the tea comes and it is hot. Very hot. So I sit there like blowing on the tea hoping it will cool off enough for me to take a sip. Blowing and blowing and blowing. And then this waitress walks over to me and says. “Honey, aren’t you on that bus to Boston?” I say, “Ah, yea.” “Well you better get out there, ‘cause it’s leaving.” I swiveled off my stool and ran as fast as I could and caught the bus as it was leaving the parking lot. I had to bang on the doors to get the driver to let me on.

I mean really Mommy and Daddy, what would have happened if I didn’t catch it? Being the highly impractical kid I was, I might have attempted to walk all the way home on the Boston Post Road and then never been seen again. Hello? I was eleven.

So back on the loser bus after we left the diner some man got up and came and sat next to me. I didn’t want anyone sitting next to me. It would cut into my daydreaming staring out the window time. But I couldn’t say anything. He was a grown up. He had been drinking, and even though I was young, I could tell he was trying to impress me by being witty and charming. He stunk like sickening cigarette smoke. He was acting all like above it all and intellectual. And I thought to myself. “Yeah, right. You have to be a poor schmuck at the bottom of the barrel otherwise you wouldn’t be on the loser bus.” Luckily he fell asleep from the booze and left me alone the rest of the trip.

No wonder I ended up dating eighteen year olds when I was twelve. It was my parent’s fault. They wanted an adult. They got one. I could get into bars at thirteen. It must have been my worldly experience with the loser bus that made me pass. Or my parent’s insouciance for my safety. Who knows?

That was the only time I took the bus to Boston. As was my M.O., I told my parents the hilarious story of almost missing the bus and the drunk man. “Isn’t that funny?” I laughed. “What a riot! Ha ha!” Thus proving the fact that comedy is born of pain.

Then there was the time I was going to visit a friend in lovely Farmingdale, CT. But to get to lovely Farmingdale I had to pass through the horror that was Port Authority at the time. Or “THE PIMP HOUSE”, which is what it should have been called. It was early in the morning and when one of the pimp population said something weird to me I said, “What did you say?” And I started crying. It was too early. I hadn’t put on my hard New York exterior yet.

So yesterday’s bus ride brought all this back to me.

During the ride, I kept thinking my cell phone was ringing and grabbing it out of my purse and looking at it for like the first hour of the loser bus trip. “What’s that noise?” I thought to myself. It kept happening. Then I realized that the snore of the man sitting behind me sounded exactly like my new cell phone ring, which is jungle birds. See, this is what you get on the loser bus. People who snore like jungle birds in the middle of the day.

On the ride back there was someone yelling into their cell phone in Spanish. And a crying baby. And a yelling mother, “STOP! STOP! STOP! DON’T TOUCH!” And the man across the aisle had on frayed khaki pants and a red hoody with the hood pulled up over his preternaturally tanned skin. He looked seriously insane.

So who is on the loser bus? Losers who don’t drive. I am on the bus. I don’t drive. Hence……..

I Can Write, But I Can’t Write A Cover Letter

Published April 20, 2009 acting , auditions , film , show business 4 Comments
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For some reason I have always reacted badly to requests for a cover letter when submitting my headshot/resume for a project. “Write a cover letter stating why you would like to work on this project and tell us something about yourself.” I would always stare and stare at this request and mentally freeze up. Then I would try to think of what I would HONESTLY say. Um ah, um ah,,.. How about:

Dear Filmmaker:

I would like this role because I really wanna role. You have a role. I need a role. Sounds like we are perfect for each other.

Cranky

No, no, no… How about:

Dear Filmmaker:

It is three o’clock in the afternoon and I haven’t left my house yet. The only thing I accomplished today is I trimmed my dog’s toe hairs. Oh, oh, and I got food delivered. It would be so nice to have something to do. Like your film for instance.

Cranky

No, I don’t think so. What can I say?

Dear Filmmaker:

The three-word description of the plot of your film gave me chills I was so inspired. Let’s put this inspiration on film.

Cranky

That sucked. Um ah, or:

Dear Filmmaker:

I’m a really good actress. I am also a good person. And my friends think I am funny. My husband also used to think I was funny. It took him seventeen years to get bored and I’m sure we will finish this film quicker than that.

Cranky

I never could get myself to send a cover letter. And now that I have seen cover letters posted on casting websites I know why. I found some cover letters that you have to read with me, OK?

#1 – This one is really priceless. I am funny. But I could never, never, never make this up:

Dear Filmmaker:

I believe I could show the tenderness and eroticism of the passion of the relationship as well as the fierceness of the violence of the character. During my many classes the subject of the duality of man was always a factor. People generally try to hide their feelings out of fear of rejection, and inside us all we have the animalistic forces of nature that we must battle to keep hidden – when we lose control all that we have bottled up will explode, the heat of the passion of the moment is careless to the regrets such actions will create. Through my Meiser training I have learnt to affect my co-star through a variety of emotions. Unfortunately, I haven’t been lucky enough to be in any plays or films. Now that I am one of the many unemployed I have all the time in the world to dedicate myself to this craft I love so much.

Henry

Way to go Henry.  You haven’t been lucky enough to BE in any films.  Nice.  Sell yourself by telling them you’ve done zip so far and are a member of the mass unemployed. And misspell the name of your method – Meisner.

#2 – This is new. Very new. A genius name-dropping technique:

Dear Filmmaker:

I studied drama at Kenyon College. Kenyon College alums include Paul Newman, Allison Janney, Josh Radner & Jay Cocks.

Annie

#3-Must be a friend of Henry’s:

Dear Filmmaker:

I am interested in this film and would love to be a part of it. I don’t have a lot of experience, but I hope to change that.

Rick

#4-Proofreading really does help in life:

Dear Filmmaker:

Would love to audition for a role in Rain Puddle. I long to do a Horror or Horror/Fantasy film. Have been a major fan since I was a (really) young.

Becky

A really young what? Dog?

#5-So interested he says it twice, well three times:

Dear Filmmaker:

I think your film sounds very interesting.

I am very interested in this feature, sounds very exciting and challenging. I would love to be a part of it.

I would love to be part of this film, it sounds really cool!

Chris

#6-Another marketing revolution:

Dear Filmmaker:

I know how to act in front of the camera both on HD and also on 16mm real film, so I have had the experience of both takes.

Danny

I didn’t know there are special acting techniques for HD vs. film. Do they teach it at The Studio?

#7-Once again proofreading is an important life skill:

Dear Filmmaker:

I’m an Actor as well as a Singer/Songwriter so maybe a Director out there may want a Song wrote for their Film or someone to Sing in their Film and if so you can contact me here in personal message…

Albert

Not sure if this is who they would hire if they wanted a song wrote.

#8-Unintentional potty humor:

Dear Filmmaker:

I will bring that darkness in emotion, the transition between innocent love and raw desire. That’s what I have to offer.

Everything that comes out of me is real. If you think this is something you want, let me know.

Martin

#9-Needs to go to Match.com:

Dear Filmmaker:

A little about myself – I’m an actor and classically trained singer (though have fun with all genres of music!) currently based in London. I speak French and Spanish, have an EU passport, and love to travel. I have recently been getting into more film work, though theatre will always be exciting and invigorating to me. Aside from acting/singing, I love reading books, drinking coffee, people watching, and having a good night out dancing.

I look forward to meeting you soon!

Jonathan

Forget about and acting job. Someone should snap this guy up and marry him.

#10-I’m at a loss for words:

Dear Filmmaker:

im not sure what i need to put here
the only acting experience i have is drama throughout high school
and the plays i cowrote in yr 11 and 12
but i hope im still given achance even with my lack of experience

dougy

#11-Also new. Auditions as credits:

Dear Filmmaker:

I am just starting to look for work as an actress as I’ve not long left college so have a lot of experience, though not professional at the moment. I do have a couple of auditions lined up though.

Ginny

#12-Also spanking new: astrology as a selling point:

Dear Filmmaker:

I take myself and what I bring to a production quite seriously. Anything less makes the production less, and we cannot have that! As for what I can bring to this character, the only truly accurate way is to sum up my personality via my sign, the scorpio: determined, forceful, emotional, intuitive, passionate, magnetic, compulsive, obsessive, secretive.

Paul

Yes. But will they take YOU seriously?

We now need a movement to stamp out the cover letter because it is gonna give actors a bad name. I changed the names of these poor actors to protect them.  I could not have done any better.  That is why I never sent one.  Asking actors to do this is cruel and unusual.  It has to stop.

Watch my reel, read my resume, look at my picture. The end. If you wanna see if I can act, ask me to read. Do not ask me to tell you why you should hire me. Acting talent does not does not translate into the cover letter, as we have seen by these sad sad examples. So sad that we, the acting community are embarrassed by them.

Directors Who Talk Talk Taaaaaalk Too Much

Published April 15, 2009 acting , auditions , film , rehearsal , show business 3 Comments
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Had an audition yesterday that took a looooong time. I felt bad because I knew the actress after me had a time thing. I was in there over half an hour. Most of the time it was the director talking. I didn’t know what the fuck he was talking about.

“Well, the script we sent you is not in the actual film we are filming. That script is from the longer full version. We are filming the short six-minute version. But later we will be filming a full version. Maybe you should read a scene that is actually in the film,” he says. “WELL THEN WHY THE FUCK DID YOU SEND IT TO ME AND WHY THE FUCK DID I MEMORIZE IT?” I think. But, “Whatever you want to do,” is what I say.

He looks through a pile of sides and finds the one that he wants. I have never seen it before. He slides it across the table and asks me to read it. Out loud. No preparation. No idea what the next line might be about. Like acting is some kind of dog trick in the fucking circus. And I’m reading with his assistant who looks like a Sylvia Plath wannabe with major social awkwardness issues who reads so fast I cannot understand, follow or respond to her. With hair hanging in her face to complete the picture. What rock did these people crawl out from under?

And then he talks and talks and talks some more.

I start wondering if he planned the whole switch the script routine to see how actors would respond. If I gave a crap, I would be concerned because if I can spend a little time with a script I can do something with it. But I act totally affable about the whole thing which shows Cranky really can ACT because I was thinking the opposite.

But the whole cluelessness of the situation was making Cranky tired and I just wanted to leave now.

The director has this look on his face like, “YES, finally, I am in charge.” And he is never gonna zip it ever again. His megalomania has been under wraps for too long. It has found an outlet in DIRECTOR and there is no stopping it. He is sucking all the air out of the room. I am not there as an actress, but as his audience.

Then he said, “How about you read another character?” And proceeded to tell me HER whole life story. Including names, and I kept getting her husband’s name and her son’s name mixed up when he was talking, so the story made no sense but it was something about a little league game and a dinner. It went on and on and on. And once again my acting skills come into play because I am able to look totally interested and engaged and COMPREHENDING the whole time. A little nod of the head here, a little thoughtful look there. Then he hands me the script and this character says TWO WORDS. I am not kidding TWO WORDS. After the twenty-minute build up with the little league and all.

This is what happens when a director is high on his project. Nice for him, but does not help me. My little actress animal self just wants what’s in the script and how it will affect her. My actress animal does not want to listen to someone who loves to hear himself talk and talk and talk and talk.

Directors who talk too much make my eyes glaze over. I’m an intuitive actor. I need a feeling, not a diatribe. The diatribe kills it.

The thing when the director wants to sit down and spend days going over the script line by line discussing what each word means is death to me. I have no idea what the fuck anything means until I do it, say it, am it. It also really makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up when another actor starts talking about the meaning/significance of one of MY lines.

But that’s what those sit down with the script and analyze it sessions lead to. People feel they have to say something. Something intelligent sounding. GAG ME GAG ME. I never feel compelled to say anything if a director resorts to this. I once had to do it for two days. I just wanted it to be over, so I figured the less I contributed the sooner it would end.

“It seems like you’re shutting down,” a director said to me during the torture analysis. Shutting down? “No, no I’m trying to wipe everything out of my mind the minute it is said, so it won’t fuck up my rehearsal process,” I thought. But I didn’t say that. I smiled and said, “Oh?” like I was surprised and didn’t mean it.

The teacher I love always says, “Find out what happens to you.” Well nothing much is happening if we’re gonna intellectualize the play and every word in it.

Cranky is an intelligent person but not an intelligent actor. Cranky uses animal brain not intelligent brain to act. So too much information just gets in the way. I can read a script and find the clues. I’m a writer. But that’s enough already. Good directors can say the exact few words I need to hear and can like make me cry. “Good directors” being the ones who work the way Cranky likes to work, of course.

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