Wait! What happened?

So, last night I was showing my father my page at IMDB when I noticed--to my shock--that my listing in 27 Dresses is mysteriously missing. Missing! I couldn't believe it. For weeks--months, quite possibly--my name has been linked to this film, making me only one-degree separate from household names like those of Katherine Heigl and James Marsden. And now it is no longer there. Gone, as though I have never existed.

Does this mean my Scuba scene been clipped from the film entirely? Have the IMDB censors obliterated all seemingly unsubstantiated entries? Has the 27 Dresses consortium conspired to blot out the little man in order to sway future reviews of the film? Could the illustrious stars of the film fear my potential to surpass them in ascendancy of household name recognition?

I think I may have to write a little email message to my IMDB friends just to find out what has happened. Perhaps they have not been following my blog postings so closely...


Surviving callbacks

I've just recently received word that I've been called back for a second audition for a lead role in what appears to be a promising short film. I still don't know much about the plot or when it may begin to shoot, but I have to say I was surprised to receive the callback. I felt rather bad about my initial audition, though I did do my best given the circumstances (e.g., no information in advance; waiting around for more than an hour; waiting in a freezing location; having driven for more than 90 minutes to get there). The first audition took so long that I was actually quite frustrated upon leaving, and I was truly and vocally adamant in my indifference regarding the potential for a callback. I didn't care if I was called back and, in fact, I don't think I wanted to be called back. I suppose that has changed, now.

I've actually been given pages from the script so I should probably do work on them, like, now. And it would probably help if I decided to like the project, right? Meaning: I might need to relinquish the exasperation and annoyance I was experiencing earlier in order to do a good job in this second round. Breathing may be essential.


inFINitely closer

In a little over three weeks, 27 Dresses will be opening nationwide in movie theatres. (That would be January 11, 2008, if you wish to mark your calendars.) And--finally--there is some hope that my bit as the Scuba Bride has not been left on the cutting room floor. If you watch this Access Hollywood segment, narrated by Billy Bush, you will see unmistakable evidence of scuba. In one clip, James Marsden holds up my magenta swim fins. Yes! The very fins I wore! The successive brief blip of a clip shows the scuba wedding party itself--underwater, of course. Later on in the story there is some quick behind-the-scenes footage of multiple tacky dresses on a long beach boardwalk and I am in that shot somewhere. Really!

Need to refresh your memory about my lovely outfit? Click here for a reminder.


The Best Type of Gig, Part II

A message was just sent to me via email. I have been released from my first refusal, as the spot has been booked. So, this event turned out to be not quite the best type of gig.

The Best Type of Gig

In the world of performance, the best types of jobs are those in which no audition is involved. Instead, someone just calls you up and says, "Jim (or, whatever your name happens to be), we're doing a [insert type of job here] and we'd like to cast you as the [insert role here]. Are you interested?" Once one has acquired such name-brand recognition, doors begin to open on a much more rapid scale. And, in fact, this is what happened to me yesterday--sort of.

One of the CDs in the area called me to find out if I was willing to be placed on first refusal* for a television commercial to be shot today. They needed someone with a specific skill--the ability to swim. In fact, I do swim, having grown up in a hot climate where swimming pools are prevalent, and I indicated so, and that I would be willing to work the job were it offered to me. I was gratuitously and multiply thanked, and the call was ended.

At this moment, I am not on the job. In fact, I haven't heard a thing since. Surely this swim gig wouldn't be in an outdoor pool--we're expecting four inches of snow tomorrow. Was someone else hired? Have there been changes to the spot? Could the shooting schedule have changed? Did someone forget to call me to say I am no longer on first refusal? The potential answer to all of these questions is Yes. And, it is possible I could still be booked--just not for today.

This could still become the best type of gig.

* First Refusal-- When talent accepts the right of first refusal on a job, it implies the producer(s) wish to keep the talent "on hold" for the projected shoot dates until they decide if they wish to book the talent for the job. If the talent is offered another job during the same period it is the responsibility of the talent to report to the producer(s) if s/he has accepted the job offered and will no longer be available for the intial job for which s/he is "on hold".


Shrewd Newsiness

This past weekend, I had a most unusual experience. A young journalist, writing a story about actors who blog about their experiences, happened across my blog as part of his intrepid research. He wanted to interview me as part of his story. And, being the helpful girl I am, I agreed to meet him at a local coffee shop to chat.

That slushy and damp evening, I stopped into L'Aroma Cafe to find a youthful guy in his very best All the President's Men attire prepping his handheld voice recorder for our little conversation. He warmly greeted me (no glad-handing, I think), and we got down to business straightaway. He--let's call him John--John asked me:

  • when I began to blog (several months ago)
  • why I began to blog (so people could read about my experiences straight from this horse's mouth)
  • any unusual events that resulted from my blogging (this interview is one, to be sure!)
  • what I hoped my blog to achieve (to show people what this industry is really like)
  • and if there were any plugs I wished to make (visit aleciabatson.com, I said, and click on blog!).
He also wanted to know what I'd been up to in my career, recently, how I felt about the industry in the area, and if I planned to stay in New England. Each of my answers was duly punctuated with John's thoughtful, "I see...", while he quickly jotted notes in his journal. It was quite surreal.

John seems like a genuinely good guy with a promising career ahead of him, having already been published in a few well-known papers. I am interested to see the final product. Keep your eye out for the story--it may appear in this very blog! Oh, and it may appear in the Boston Globe, as well.


Nature vs. Nurser

Today I auditioned for an industrial video. It's not often that I audition for this type of project simply because I don't frequently fit the profile of the role that is being cast, or I don't fit the target demographic of the project. However, when I am called in for such a project, it's typically for a character of a caring, compassionate nature such as a nurse. In my last industrial gig I played the part of a nurse. And today was no exception--I auditioned for the role of...a nurse.

The copy was a bit specific, so I was glad to have arrived with about 20 minutes to prepare prior to my call time. We were being called into the room in pairs, and there were about eight people in the waiting area. So, I spent much of my time pacing the hallway outside, and mumbling my lines to myself. It was interesting to view the variety of talent that had been called in to audition--a wide range of ages and ethnic backgrounds were about, chatting with each other, rehearsing with a partner, or muttering to oneself, as many actors do.

My scene partner and I were called into the audition room to find the client at the table welcoming us. We each slated our names for the camera and then began our scene. At first, I stumbled over my first few sentences, surprising myself in doing so. Soon thereafter, the conversation of the scene began to flow freely and before we knew it, we were done. When in the moment, there were a few pauses that seemed unnaturally and awkwardly long to me, but I believe in the scheme of things they appeared as thoughtful pauses. Pairs before us were in the room for a longer period of time--perhaps they were given direction? We were not given direction. Were we that great? We were told we were great. Were we terrible? Were we not the type they were seeking? Will he or I get the gig? We may never know.

What I want to know is this: do I really look so much like a nurse?