Saturday, February 27, 2010

Fun Day at the Lake... In the Snow


Sunday I went kayaking in the most beautiful, lovely spring-like weather. Then Tuesday I watched marvelous fat snowflakes fall and blanket my yard with an inch-and-a-half of cold beauty. The street in front of my house was slushy. My 55-pound, sweet, mixed-breed dog did not find the weather as delightful as I did. She refused to walk far, even (or maybe especially) in her doggy parka. Tuesday also happened to be the day I auditioned for a boat commercial. The casting call said to wear clothes for "a fun day at the lake". Thankfully the audition was not at the lake, but at a hotel meeting room. Like most sane people would, I wore snow-appropriate clothes to the hotel, then changed into my lake wardrobe in the lobby bathroom. At least two people I saw walked into the lobby (from the snowy parking lot) in shorts, tee-shirt and flip-flops. Maybe they were raised in the arctic north and thought that Tuesday's high temperature of 34 degrees Fahrenheit was toasty-warm. Maybe I'm a wuss about the cold.

There were kids at this audition too. Some cuter and much better behaved than others. One little dude was very professional and polite, waiting patiently with his mom in the lobby and following directions to the letter. The young man who auditioned with me was a bit more spirited and wily. He was six-years-old, and told the casting lady that he liked his backyard pool, but that there was NO way he would get in a lake. Of course the boat to be featured in the commercial would not fit into his pool, so I doubt he'll get cast.

While in the waiting area, I witnessed two siblings (a girl and a boy) arrive with their harried-looking mom. The children squawked noisily at each other and started pulling on doors despite the audition facilitator asking them to please have a seat and wait quietly. Finally the facilitator had to say, "Please don't go in there yet. They're filming other people right now. You need to be quiet." The little girl puffed out her chest and cheeks and pronounced loudly to her mother and anyone else in the captive audience, "this is no fun at all. Let's go." The she swanned grandly down the hall. The mom did not apologize for her daughter's haughty proclamation. I'm guessing that neither of those siblings will be cast.

As a former receptionist, let me tell you that when arriving for a job interview or audition, you should behave appropriately and politely to everyone. EVERYONE. Whether it's the doorman, the receptionist or the other people in the waiting area, word will get back to the hiring/casting powers if you behave poorly. I know at least one casting director that admits to placing spies in the waiting area to help identify brats of all ages.

My audition went well. No face spasms from forced insincere smiles! During the tell-us-a-little-about-yourself segment I think I got bonus points for telling about how I spent my summers at my grandparents lakehouse learning to water-ski and slalom. (Nothing but the truth.) I should know by Tuesday if I got the part -- fingers crossed.

In the acting world, no news is actually bad news. The "don't call us, we'll call you" line is true. Also, when auditioning to be part of a family, you have to look like you belong with the significant-other and like the offspring could be yours. I'm up against luck, skill and genetics for this particular commercial since it will feature a pretend family. Please, please don't make me be the pretend mom of that haughty little girl from the waiting area.

Monday, February 8, 2010

Human After All


No weird facial tics during the commercial audition today. Phew! I don't think I'll get the part though, because there are fifty lovely ladies up for a single role. The odds aren't with me.

I auditioned with the same casting lady from Saturday. While waiting in the hall for my turn in front of the camera, I witnessed casting lady listen to a voice-mail informing her that half of the extras she already booked for another commercial were cut because of the budget. Casting lady got a little misty-eyed at having to tell ten people that the commercial job they thought they had wasn't going to happen after all. Casting lady excused herself for a moment then came back into the hall and explained to all waiting that she knows rejection is tough for actors. She said she feels our pain when she has to pull-the-plug on a part we thought we had.

Casting lady then came into the audition room with me, and chatted me up about some past projects we worked on together. She was really nice. That's probably why I made it through today's audition without any face spasms.

Sunday, February 7, 2010

Super...


Just after my last blog post I got an email that I have another commercial audition with the same casting lady Monday. She's made it clear that I look middle-aged to her, so I hope the client is looking for an older actress.

Last night while watching TV, I remembered that yesterday's casting lady is the same casting lady who asked me if I'd do nudity for a twenty-something character in a movie a few months ago. I told her I wanted to be audition for the thirty-something soccer mom, and... (wait for it...) she said I looked too young to be the soccer mom.

Have I aged ten years in a matter of months? I think not. Maybe casting lady got new glasses.

Saturday, February 6, 2010

Another Flippin' Commercial Audition


It's old news that I hate commercial auditions. I want to cry after most of them. I get nervous before a commercial audition -- not the good, healthy nervousness that provides an extra jolt of energy and sparkle; more like the bad nervousness that makes my mouth go dry and my cheek muscles shake with effort when I smile big about the product. Ugh. I probably look like I have some sort of nervous facial tic in most auditions.

I found out about today's audition at 4:00 PM yesterday. I already had plans to attend book club out in the suburbs this morning, which I very much looked forward to attending. Then I got four emails and three phone calls yesterday afternoon for this audition. If you are alive, you are expected to attend auditions. There are no excused absences for illness, bad hair day or previous plans. You MUST go. So I only got to stay at book club for an hour before making the forty-five minute drive downtown to my audition.

The audition was for a home decor supply store. The scene is a mother and twenty-something daughter shopping for home decor supplies and then telling all their acquaintances how great the service, selection and prices are at the store. I was supposed to be reading for the twenty-something daughter, and memorized the lines for that part. When I arrived at the audition, the casting lady walked in and said, "you're the mom". What the frak?! I know that I'm actually in my mid-thirties, but on a good day I pass for late-twenties. There's no way I look fifty. So I smile and nod (while trying not to cry) and memorize the Mom's lines quickly. I try to roll with the punches -- emotional punches delivered straight to my insecurities.

I walk into the audition room. The client, who happens to be a man, says twice that I should read for the daughter, not the mom. The client-man says I look like I'm in my twenties and there's no way I should be the mom. The casting lady does not like this, and says I look middle-aged and that I could only be the daughter if they go with a much older actress for the mom. Twice. She says this twice. The client-man then says AGAIN that I look young. Thank you, client-man, really.

So I do an okay audition and remember the lines even though they've switched up my parts twice. I smile. I take a note on delivery of one of the lines from the client-man and do it again. Then it happened, right at the end of the second take, my cheek muscles shook a bit from smiling so long and so big combined with utter nervousness and humiliation.

Fail.