Call Me Cattle (or, Hoping for a Phone Call)

Yesterday I attended a cattle call for a new Warner Bros. feature project called "The Town".  This will be an adaptation of the dark, heist-romance novel Prince of Thieves written by Chuck Hogan.  Apparently Ben Affleck is slated to rewrite, star in and direct the film. 

Pleasantly, the audition was well-run!  Sometimes these massive calls that screen everyone from all ends of the earth can result in manifest mayhem.  But, there were many assistants on hand, many more in attendance and an efficient queue system.  I filled out the requisite paperwork, picked up the sheet with dialogue and stepped over to the photo location for a quick pic.  Then, I took a moment to review the lines before stepping into another queue.  After waiting only a few minutes, I arrived at a table, handed over my headshot, resume and paperwork to the fellow seated across from me, and waited for instruction.  He asked me to read one of the lines of dialogue and I did just that.  Then, "Thank you."  That was it!  I was in and out in perhaps ten minutes, and I was impressed.  Moreover, I felt good about my read and hope it was strong enough to set me apart from the many hundreds in attendance and result in a call back. 

Know how to hold it.

Spending as much in Austin as I have and following closely the travails through the Texas Hill Country of now-defunct Team US Postal-cum-Team Discovery Channel as led by Lance Armstrong, I am without question a TDF junkie.  From time to time, when I don't jump up between segments to hastily fold laundry or unload the dishwasher, I do intently watch television commercials with the goal of learning more and improving my craft.  This past weekend as le Tour began, I immediately noticed an ad illustrating crippling ignorance of musicians and their craft.  In some feeble attempt to demonstrate the concept of "unfriendly", a front desk attendant at a hotel whips out a violin and begins to play.  Not only is the attendant not using his fingers upon the fingerboard, but he's holding the instrument on the wrong side, bow in the incorrect hand. 

Please, ad folks, as a professional musician I implore you to hire actors who know how to use the instrument you've written into your savvy spots.  Or at least take a few moments to provide genuine instruction to the person you've hired.  It's not so hard to learn to fake it.  I did so.

Disappointment: the Name of the Game

It's true. Disappointment is the name of the game when it comes to "the industry". It's acquiring the finesse to master disappointment that can be challenging. Most of the time, I am relatively unflappable. I understand my most elemental role as a talent is to go, audition and leave. I give my best performance each time and depart with no expectations that I will be called back or that I will get the role/part/character/gig/job. However, there are times when it is difficult to resist the infiltration of disappointment into life. These past two days have showcased excellent examples of this.

Unexpectedly, I met a very interesting individual who seemed to be friendly, professional and well-connected within entertainment, offering to introduce me to people who might be able to provide me guidance and insight. A happy circumstance? Serendipity? Too good to be true? It seems the latter may be the case. We arranged a business dinner at which details of the introductions were to be discussed. I went, prepared to discuss my experience and present the career goals I have as well as the current challenges I know I face. Unfortunately, the dinner turned out to be a very long-winded discussion about nothing of interest to me and a true waste of my time. I believe this contact was well-intentioned but not as serious or focused as I am, and perhaps not as forthright, either. Will I still get to meet these potentially career-changing contacts? I don't know and, frankly, I don't care. The situation was very disappointing and it reminded me how very few people in this world are as good as one's word.

Likewise, a potentially great opportunity to work on upcoming feature film Furry Vengeance fell into my lap. Or at least my email inbox. The project was seeking talent with very specific skills sets--skills sets which I have and with which I have years' worth of experience on a professional level. Of course, I contacted the casting director straight away with a polite email, my resume and headshot, indicating I thought I would be great for the role given my qualifications and that I would be willing to provide any additional information desired. Have I received a response? No. Did I expect to receive a response? It is rare that I ever expect a reply, but in this case I did, knowing I fill well the requirements of the role. Again, disappointment. I'm not ruling out receipt of a response, but I'll no longer be dispirited that I haven't yet got one.

Disappointment.
Dismay.
Dissatisfaction.
Disenchantment.
Disillusionment.

All words illustrating the arbitrary nature of an entirely ersatz trade.

Another Entreaty

So, it seems "the Facebook movie" based upon Ben Mezrich's book Accidental Billionaires is picking up pre-production steam and key decision-making is underway.  You may recall I recently reached out to Mr. Mezrich, asking for his consideration for a part in any potential Accidental Billionaires film product.  He was kind enough to respond.  Even if not with the desired "Sure.  I'll be glad to see what I can do" comment, I was flattered Mr. Mezrich took the time to tweet.  

Despite this very minor setback, I'm still holding out hope that someone from Columbia pictures (now a subsidiary of Sony Pictures Entertainment) will read my blog, check out my website or visit my Facebook page and realize that I would be an excellent choice to call in for an audition and cast in a part. (C'mon guys!  I would be great!) 

Brushing Up

I've had a recent spate of fortuitous auditions (summarized in Catching Up), but nothing has come of them (so far).  When my schedule allows, I always enjoy taking classes to improve my skills, so I've just begun a multi-week class to brush up my audition skills. After all, a good audition is the key to the door of a job and a bad audition can quickly shut that door. Reviewing the basics is always a good way to remain refreshed and keep ahead of the crowd.

In this case, my class is taught by a prominent, active casting director who knows the difference between what makes and breaks an audition.  Each week, a variety of types of on-screen material are discussed, important factual and interpretive points are touched upon and then technique is rehearsed using on-camera experience with the copy.  It's always fun to watch everyone's video--some are entertaining, some are successful, some are not, but each one is educational and insightful. 

I'd like to note that I'm particular in my class choices.  I prefer classes that are true classes, where information is disseminated, technique is rehearsed, work is reviewed and critiqued, and the class recurs over a regular time period, be it weeks or months.  I do not subscribe to those singular "sessions" with casting directors or, at times multiple casting directors, where one pays money to "meet" various individuals, "gain exposure" or "get advice".  I find these to be a bit scammy on the part of the payee.  For my particular class, it just so happens that it is taught by a working casting director who knows me.  In addition to learning something, this can be a nice way to remind the casting director I'm around, I'm working and my skills are improving. 

Of course, class choices are just those--choices.  It's important to find the right talent-teacher fit.  Each talent has different needs, interests and learning styles.  Knowing oneself and one's goals can be most helpful in finding that match.  Last night's class contained some good points I had forgotten and I left looking forward to getting my assignments for next week's meeting.

Seeing things clearly

For several weeks I've been having some issues with my eye. My right eye to be particular. You may have noticed in my most recent vlog entry I was wearing glasses. Don't get me wrong, I like my glasses. I think I look good in my glasses and I have worn them to auditions from time to time when I think they suit the character in question. However, most of the time I wear my contact lenses, so having to wear glasses daily for more than a month became a bit tiresome.  I was also concerned about being called in to audition.  What would I do?  Wear glasses?  Insert my contacts and possibly irritate my eye? 

Well, when I did have auditions (such as the recent feature film auditions), I opted to go sans lenses--contacts or glasses--so the reader was just a blurry thing to me.  I don't think they knew.  In only one case did I wear my contacts, but I removed them immediately afterward, hopefully thwarting additional ocular bother. 

Now, my eye is finally on the mend.  After multiple visits to the eye doctor and many, many drops, I'm sincerely hoping things are looking up and my audition worries are a thing of the past.

Catching Up

Bobbing and Weaving

Yesterday I had a voice over audition for a couple of radio spots.  Most of the time, when I'm called in for a voice over audition, it takes place in a studio sound booth.  However, in certain cases (as in yesterday's) they take place in a casting director's office where a makeshift recording studio has been set up.  

I arrived late, which is not typically how I roll, signed in and picked up the copy.  Noting that the copy was written for two voices and observing that I was the only person in the waiting area, I thought it might be a little while before I was called in to read.  I got in about 15 minutes of rehearsal before another talent walked through the door.  Logically, we were paired up and called in to the audition room. 

After our first read, we were given two more takes with very specific direction provided between takes.  We paid careful attention and I think we gave it our best shots each time.  However, there was only one microphone, so we had to "bob and weave" before the uni-directional head in order to reduce the gaps of dead space between lines yet still provide a radio-present delivery.  I found it kind of distracting.  At least cameras weren't rolling.  I'm sure we looked kind of odd.

Upon leaving, I felt unsure about my performance.  I had a good grasp of the copy and messaging, but I didn't feel a connection with my audition partner.  With so much prep time, arriving late may have been to my benefit, but the lack of connection with the other auditionee might have been a hindrance.  Only time will tell.