I guess that's how life works
Periodically, once in a while, I'll get called by my agency to go to an audition. Generally, this is no problem -- the auditions are normally scheduled at or around lunchtime, and I'm close enough to the city that I can easily go to and from work in an hour, an hour and a half on the outside.
Sometimes, I'll have to lie a little: "doctor's appointment", "appointment in the city", and the sparingly-used "LM is sick and the nanny needs to leave early" are all excuses I've used on occasion. I suppose soon I'll have to make up new ones. A friend of ours, Nathan, says that the best excuse is one that really discourages followup questions and prying, such as "anal polyps". In any case, I had to use excuse #2 for a late-afternoon audition up in the city.
The casting agency handling the audition is right in the middle of the financial district, and is hence a bit of a nailbiter to get to. Adding to the neurosis level is the fact that this casting agency sometimes casts a wide net for commercial parts; you don't know until you show up whether you'll be spending a while there.
But you have to take a risk on something sometime. Even if you have a mandatory meeting back at work at 4PM and your audition is at 3:40.
However, you can nudge luck along a little: I arrive at the casting agency at 2:30PM and beg and plead to be seen early if humanly possible. They're in the middle of casting the first commercial out of the 2 they're casting that day, and I'm told that if a woman shows up to partner with, they can see me first thing.
Bonus! A woman shows up promptly at 3:00...
And the spot they're casting for? A mortgage lending company. A bored banker is sitting at his desk, sticking pieces of tape to his face, making it all grotesque-looking because he's so bored. He feels a presence in the room, and turns around to find a husband and wife, holding hands and smiling at him, their faces taped up just like his. They've obviously taped up their faces in hopes of getting the loan.
Yeah, it's not Much Ado About Nothing. But it's fun and it gives me the chance to be a big ham for a big wad of cash.
The actress and I set about taping up each other's faces right in the waiting room. We go in, slate ourselves, hold hands, and smile at the camera in all our silly grotesquery. The cameraman and the casting director behind the table both laugh at us -- genuinely, and positively. That's it: no lines for us to read, not even any improv to try out in front of the camera. Just tape up your goofy mug, walk in the room and smile at the camera. The actress and I attempt a bit of lame humor after the fact: "You had me at Magic Tape." "Does this nose job look fake?"
The actress and I descend the stairs to the first floor: "I thought we totally rocked the casbah in there."
"We are so cast. It's gonna be great to see you there."
And yeah, I did think we did really well. Sort of speaks to the fact that those people going first have a slight advantage: if you create a good first impression when you're first, any examiner is going to remember you more positively as a result compared to other people.
The thing is, though, that you can't read into things too much, or you'll drive yourself crazy over it. In such a subjective business, a lot of casting decisions are based on three factors: what you look like (whether you fit a kind of type a casting agent is looking for, and these types are extremely unimaginative), your ability and persistence in marketing yourself, and whether you can be available at the director and crew's convenience. With the 50 juggling balls I have in the air at any one time, I don't really have the time to keep a self-marketing campaign active apart from what my agency does for me -- which leaves whatever types I might fit into in a casting agent's mind. (In a commercial setting, my type most often fits a kind of scientist/educated/IT/nerd kind of role. Go figure.) My availability has also factored in gigs being denied me -- my agency called me up one time with an audition that would've been extremely lucrative had I gotten it. Too bad the actual shoot was 5 days in Disney World Orlando, at a critical time at work. So when my wonderful agency calls -- I love them for being so forgiving a working dad's schedule and not holding me to a quota of successful gigs -- I just say whether I can make the audition (almost always) and whether I can make the actual shoot date (maybe 50/50, since sometimes shootdates are in farflung locations even in the Bay Area, such as Sacramento). Then I go to the audition, do my thing, and mostly put it out of my mind except for the fact that it's nice to be still in the acting game, even if it is for little goofy things and not being Benedick up on stage -- the best high I know of.
That is, I put it out of my mind until my agent leaves a message on my cell phone at 10AM Saturday, saying that the casting director was wondering about my availability for 2/9 and 2/10.
Holy crap.
There's a show we like a lot these days, where the dad's character has a number of jobs throughout the day. He gets maybe a few hours of sleep each day, so his kids have to wake him up (he's gone to sleep already dressed in the next job's clothes) so he can get to the next job. His familiar line: "What job am I going to? It's not 2:59, is it?"
Did I mention that at WM the night of 2/9 is a major release, requiring shifts from several members of QA?
I lobbied hard for the graveyard shift, in case I had to spend an entire day on either 2/9 and 2/10. If I get it, it may mean that someone will have to wake me up for the next gig... and after 48 hours straight of being awake, I'll finally collapse. Maybe in a gutter somewhere. Hey, free dummy!
But it'll be worth it. This is a TV commercial, and a union one. I'm non-union, but you get one freebie thanks to the Taft-Hartley Act of 1947. Basically what this means is that if I get this, I'm fine for this one, but if I get another gig with AFTRA I'm a "must-join", and therefore am required to join the union. Which is fine by me -- the union gets health insurance, in addition to other perks. If I'm doing well enough so that I'm a must-join, being in the union will open up more commercial gigs, I think.
The other thing that makes this worth it is that TV commercial compensation -- the bling of residuals -- is based on two factors: what media markets the commercial runs in and how long the commercial runs. Certain media markets are priced higher than others, based on either population or the location of the business.
All this, needless to say, is why I've created a monster blog entry and why my cell phone is surgically implanted in my hip. I figure I'll know if I'm cast -- this is still not a done deal by any stretch of the imagination -- either Monday or Tuesday, but the acting industry is always very last-minute.
We'll see. But that's how life works. One day you're weeping in a work stairwell, and the next week you've got your confidence back (after a little anger advocacy) and this lottery-ticket-with-much-better-odds audition seals the deal on your transformation into a happier human being, at least for the time being until the next crisis hits...