Saturday, February 07, 2004


Yesterday spent the day working at a friend's casting office. They were holding auditions for a film about the start of the Mormons, and while they sat in a room listening to actor after actor read lines from the script, I answered phones, greeted budded thespians as they arrived, and sifted through headshots that had been mailed in to the company. I spent most of time flipping through the women's photos and resumes, playing the old "who would I like to sleep with - a, or b?" game. Casting couch action in my head. While I was getting paid. Not a bad little gig.

I've always believed that actors have the toughest role in this town. They can study their craft for years, work their butts off to get noticed, and even the most talented, skilled actor won't ever get a role. Most actors are happy just to audition. Truly a career only to get involved in for the love of the craft. When I hear of friends who have "hit it big", it has meant they've been cast in a bit part on NYPD Blue as a dominatrix or, better yet, as a dancing pickle on a Quiznos commercial.

Many of the headshots reek of the resulting desperation. While many actors will simply send in the best conservative shot they have of themseves, stapled back to back with their list of "credits" (community theatre they've been in, soap operas they've worked as extras on), others will include a handwritten note explaining why they're perfect for the role, candy, and in on guys case, a condom - stapled to a cover letter explaining how he and the rubber are alike (both get deep into roles, etc.).


Next week is my ninth at the Westwood Flower Garden... why do I do this to myself? Oh, yeah... I need the money.