Business has been slow in LA since I wrapped "Held Up." I haven't worked a single paying day in April, not even any background work through my calling service. Most of the network shows have shot all their shows for the season, and the new pilots are wrapping up now. The major films that shoot in the summer are just cranking up, so we are in a major lull. And since actors like to be acting, I have resorted to taking a few non-paying, "will work for food" jobs. One of them was a short film for the web channel "Funny or Die." It is a parody of the popular show, "Hoarders," except that this show is called "Whoreders," and the star of the show hoards - you guessed it - whores. And I play - wait for it - a whore.
Now, I understand that most actresses have to play hookers at some point in their careers. Some of them even win Oscars for it, like Donna Reed in "From Here to Eternity." But usually, these actresses are doing it to play against type - Donna Reed definitely was not the hooker type, and that's why she won the Oscar. I'm not sure I've done enough work to have a type, but the work I'm best known for at this point - "Whorified" - just may have typecast me. Oh sure, I've played lots of mothers, teachers, nurses, doctors, and in my upcoming film, "Child of God," I'll be playing the lead, an innocent widow who is the soloist and secretary at a small town church, a far cry from a hooker. But until it comes out, the work that I've gotten the most recognition for is from playing a whore.
I'm not complaining. Hookers are great fun to play. On this set, there were about 30 or 40 of us in an old house right in downtown Hollywood, just a couple of blocks north of the Chinese Theater. We were all wearing tons of makeup and varying degrees of slutty clothes. I was relatively sedately dressed: I had on a black tank mini-dress with my black bra straps hanging out and lots of cleavage, lacy bike shorts, sky-high gladiator sandals, and huge dangling earrings, and I was holding a black feathered fan that one of the other "girls" had loaned me. The director had asked us to bring props and reading material that might be funny, so I read the American Association of Retired Persons (AARP - yes, I'm a member, because I'm retired) magazine (I was playing the "old" hooker, which is also starting to get "old"). Some of the girls' sex toys that they were using as props will probably have to be pixilated in the film; they were definitely X-rated. But it all worked; the atmosphere was great, and the props were funny.
So the idea for the film is this: the door opens, and the pimp says to the team who is doing the intervention, "These are my whores." The team gasps at the sheer number of us in the house (we were all sitting/lying over the furniture and floor) and make appropriate filthy comments. Then they tell him to start making cuts (eliminating us from the group). And one by one, as he cuts us, the team would lift us up and "bag" us as if we were garbage, just like they do on "Hoarders." Kind of demeaning, especially when you are doing it just to get a free lunch. And when the actor playing the pimp came up to me and said, "Hey, 1930s? It's time for you to go," I was actually hurt and didn't have to act my sad expression.
The funniest part of the shoot was the point where they loaded about fifteen of us onto the back of a dump truck, "bagged" (don't worry, there were large holes for us to breathe through, and the bags were clear, but it was kind of creepy), and them filmed it driving slowly away. When we took off the bags we realized we were on the main Hollywood tour route; a group of tourists was gaping at us and snapping photos of the whole shoot. All the hookers smiled and waved, and I called out, "Welcome to Hollywood!" What a crazy scene this place is.
So, I was happy to be working again, it only took about three hours, I met some nice people, and I had a good time playing "dress up." And the bottom line is, I don't care if I am typecast as long as I am getting paid. But this is supposed to be show "business," and I promised myself that since I am doing this as a "professional" actress I was not going to do any more of these non-paying jobs. So who's the real whore? The one who gets paid to do her job, or the one who gives it away for free?
t
Saturday, April 24, 2010
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
My First Red Carpet: The 2010 Streamy Awards
You have probably never heard of the Streamy Awards. Until I got involved with the web series, "Whorified: The Search for America's Next Top Whore," neither had I. The Streamys are the awards for best content created specifically for the web, and 2009 was the first year they were awarded. Our web series, which was shot in May of 2009 and premiered on the web in October later that year, was eligible for all of the awards for comedy (it was a parody of the reality show "The Search for America's Next Top Model). We had gotten rave reviews, with one critic even calling it "America's first great classic web series," but we never got big numbers in terms of web hits. Still, we had a strong cult following, and we were getting legitimate "twitter chatter" about our chances for getting nominations. Our writer-director, Ann Marie Lindbloom, who is a member of the Academy of Web TV (kind of like the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences-AMPAS-that votes on the Oscars), did a great job of promoting the series via Facebook, and all of the cast tried to get the vote out as well. But alas, when the nominations were announced, we did not make the cut, although one of our "whores," Brenda Walsh, had made it to the semi-finals in the category of Best Actress in a Comedy Web Series. I should point out that all of the series that did receive nominations either had famous stars in them or were produced by well-known companies; "Whorified" had neither. But so it goes.
Anyway, Ann Marie was allowed two free tickets to the April 11th awards ceremony, which was going to have a red carpet for the first time, and was going to be streamed live over the Internet. As the event approached, it became clear that it was not going to sell out (they were originally trying to sell tickets for $225!), so she was able to get those of us who wanted to attend tickets for only $25. In the end, there was a group of seven that represented the cast of "Whorified:" Ann Marie (AJ the producer in the series), Brenda, Marie, Candis, and myself (all "contestants" on the show), Scott (the doctor who prescribes his "five-bite" diet for every ill), and Victor (who plays one of the "Johns"). We all dressed up in cocktail party dressy (not formal, since it started at 5 p.m. and that just seemed too over-the-top); there are lots of pictures on all of the girls' Facebook pages. Ann Marie hosted a cocktail party at her new apartment beforehand, which ironically is the completely re-built "hooker house" from the show which was a condemned property when we used it! It is a beautiful complex of gray stucco one-bedroom apartments now.
We were all mildly drunk when we arrived at the Orpheum Theatre, a cavernous 1930s art deco palace where the ceremony was to be held. Out front, there were three or four chaotic lines; no one seemed to know where we were supposed to go. We had our tickets with us, but we were told by an usher that the lines were for "will call" and that everyone had to pick up another ticket which would actually admit us to the building. I looked around but didn't see any stars, although there were a lot of well-dressed men and women, some in long gowns. Our group held our own in the looks department, I have to say. The lines took about 30 minutes, so it was a good thing we had arrived an hour before the doors opened. Then we were told to proceed to the rear alley for red carpet check-in, which we did. But when we got there, a burly guard stopped us and asked us if we were nominees or press. We said neither, and he told us we could not get on the red carpet without a press pass. We gazed at him sadly, then proceeded to beg. While we were shamelessly pleading, a well-dressed, good-looking black man came up with his body guard, and ran into the same problem. Ann Marie said, "Jaleel, I loved you in your series [the name escapes me]." He smiled and said thanks, and she asked for a group photo; he was obviously somebody I should know. As he put his arm around my waist and I put mine around his neck, I said, "Honey, who are you?" and Ann Marie whispered, "It's Jaleel White!" I said "You're Urkel! Honey, you grew up good-looking!" He was laughing - he probably gets that a lot. He IS good-looking, very fine - nothing like the nerdy Urkel that the older ones in the group remembered from "Family Matters."
We decided to walk all the way around to the street at the far end of the building, rather than just the alley, following Jaleel to see if we could tag along and get in with him. There was a large crowd slowly moving into the red carpet area, and basically we just squeezed into the group and started shaking hands with people that Ann Marie knew or saying hello to some minor stars (Ileanna Douglas, Kevin Pollack) and introducing ourselves. And it was working, too. We were just about to be let in to the enclosure where the actual red carpet was, where all the interviews were being conducted, when the guards closed it off, saying that it was too crowded and that only nominees were to be allowed in from that point on. But, we discovered that we could just walk around the outside of the enclosure, and meet more interviewers at the end as people were coming out! Sneaky, sneaky! So we waited there, and Ann Marie managed to get us interviewed by a LA-based blog, including photos of the whole group. Then I saw Randy and Jason Sklar being interviewed inside the enclosure, and I called to them and said "Hi guys! It's Jennie from Held Up!" They remembered me, and we walked over to give them hugs, and I was able to introduce them to Ann Marie, who is a big fan. We took photos, and then, since we were inside the red carpet and knew the Sklars, Mingle Media, who had just interviewed Jason and Randy, asked to interview us! Cool, huh? So that's the way it goes. A lot of networking and moving and grooving in the crowd.
You can see our interview at this link:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=iDMHdhCXLOM&feature=player_embedded>
We worked the red carpet for a full half hour until they told us the doors were closing and we had to get to our seats,at 5:30. Our seats were in the balcony, of course, since none of us were nominees, but the theatre is gorgeous, a lot like Radio City Music Hall, all soaring and gilded, and the stage looked beautiful. The award itself looks like a silver fountain of twisted cables rising from its pedestal (I got to see one up close from a winner on the carpet with me, who won a technical award earlier in the week), and the centerpiece of the stage was a huge mock-up of this. Unfortunately, though, the ceremony got off to a bad start with a cheesy dance number and went downhill from there. Host Dick Scheer (sic) did a decent monologue, but when he said 35 awards were to be presented my heart sank, because I knew that meant a long-ass show. And then there were the endless bits - from the first presenter David Wain (sic) of the series Wainy Days, who had to prove he wasn't really the nerd he plays by going out into the audience to hit on a woman (too long, not funny) to a host of others that I can't remember now, because, well, they sucked. And the technical issues! My God, it was like tech rehearsal at the high school senior play! Mics went out. The scrolling video for the nominees went out, and the presenters didn't have them on a list, so the back-up plan was - to start the video over from the beginning of the show? And while we were waiting, along with the bored host and presenter, two fully naked guys actually streaked across the stage. Great, it's the 1970s! It went on and on, and by the time two hours had passed they had only given out 10 of the awards. Our group looked at each other and said, "Ready to go?" And we all were more than ready. We later found out that the show went on for three more hours!
To tell you the truth, I was truly embarrassed by this display. We are supposed to be representing the future of entertainment. These people acted like they had all gotten together in a room a few days before the event, thought up a bunch of bits that sounded good, and didn't eliminate (or rehearse) any of them. The humor was frat-boy, sophomoric, dick and toilet jokes most of the night. It was clear that there had been little or no technical planning, because there were so many mistakes and glitches. I have directed business meetings that went more elegantly. And it made me angry, because the people who bothered to watch on the web now think that if this is the future of entertainment, they're not buying, and now it will make it even harder for writers and actors like us to get funding for the really good programming that we are putting together. It was a major wasted opportunity for our industry and we all were upset about it. We went out to dinner afterward to gripe, and everyone agreed that the event had been a bust, but that the red carpet had been a blast! And we got coverage in the press the next day (see interview above), so it definitely was not a waste in terms of getting the show noticed. Who knows? Maybe we can finally get the last ten episodes funded and find out who wins "Whorified!"
Til next time,
Jennie
Anyway, Ann Marie was allowed two free tickets to the April 11th awards ceremony, which was going to have a red carpet for the first time, and was going to be streamed live over the Internet. As the event approached, it became clear that it was not going to sell out (they were originally trying to sell tickets for $225!), so she was able to get those of us who wanted to attend tickets for only $25. In the end, there was a group of seven that represented the cast of "Whorified:" Ann Marie (AJ the producer in the series), Brenda, Marie, Candis, and myself (all "contestants" on the show), Scott (the doctor who prescribes his "five-bite" diet for every ill), and Victor (who plays one of the "Johns"). We all dressed up in cocktail party dressy (not formal, since it started at 5 p.m. and that just seemed too over-the-top); there are lots of pictures on all of the girls' Facebook pages. Ann Marie hosted a cocktail party at her new apartment beforehand, which ironically is the completely re-built "hooker house" from the show which was a condemned property when we used it! It is a beautiful complex of gray stucco one-bedroom apartments now.
We were all mildly drunk when we arrived at the Orpheum Theatre, a cavernous 1930s art deco palace where the ceremony was to be held. Out front, there were three or four chaotic lines; no one seemed to know where we were supposed to go. We had our tickets with us, but we were told by an usher that the lines were for "will call" and that everyone had to pick up another ticket which would actually admit us to the building. I looked around but didn't see any stars, although there were a lot of well-dressed men and women, some in long gowns. Our group held our own in the looks department, I have to say. The lines took about 30 minutes, so it was a good thing we had arrived an hour before the doors opened. Then we were told to proceed to the rear alley for red carpet check-in, which we did. But when we got there, a burly guard stopped us and asked us if we were nominees or press. We said neither, and he told us we could not get on the red carpet without a press pass. We gazed at him sadly, then proceeded to beg. While we were shamelessly pleading, a well-dressed, good-looking black man came up with his body guard, and ran into the same problem. Ann Marie said, "Jaleel, I loved you in your series [the name escapes me]." He smiled and said thanks, and she asked for a group photo; he was obviously somebody I should know. As he put his arm around my waist and I put mine around his neck, I said, "Honey, who are you?" and Ann Marie whispered, "It's Jaleel White!" I said "You're Urkel! Honey, you grew up good-looking!" He was laughing - he probably gets that a lot. He IS good-looking, very fine - nothing like the nerdy Urkel that the older ones in the group remembered from "Family Matters."
We decided to walk all the way around to the street at the far end of the building, rather than just the alley, following Jaleel to see if we could tag along and get in with him. There was a large crowd slowly moving into the red carpet area, and basically we just squeezed into the group and started shaking hands with people that Ann Marie knew or saying hello to some minor stars (Ileanna Douglas, Kevin Pollack) and introducing ourselves. And it was working, too. We were just about to be let in to the enclosure where the actual red carpet was, where all the interviews were being conducted, when the guards closed it off, saying that it was too crowded and that only nominees were to be allowed in from that point on. But, we discovered that we could just walk around the outside of the enclosure, and meet more interviewers at the end as people were coming out! Sneaky, sneaky! So we waited there, and Ann Marie managed to get us interviewed by a LA-based blog, including photos of the whole group. Then I saw Randy and Jason Sklar being interviewed inside the enclosure, and I called to them and said "Hi guys! It's Jennie from Held Up!" They remembered me, and we walked over to give them hugs, and I was able to introduce them to Ann Marie, who is a big fan. We took photos, and then, since we were inside the red carpet and knew the Sklars, Mingle Media, who had just interviewed Jason and Randy, asked to interview us! Cool, huh? So that's the way it goes. A lot of networking and moving and grooving in the crowd.
You can see our interview at this link:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=iDMHdhCXLOM&feature=player_embedded>
We worked the red carpet for a full half hour until they told us the doors were closing and we had to get to our seats,at 5:30. Our seats were in the balcony, of course, since none of us were nominees, but the theatre is gorgeous, a lot like Radio City Music Hall, all soaring and gilded, and the stage looked beautiful. The award itself looks like a silver fountain of twisted cables rising from its pedestal (I got to see one up close from a winner on the carpet with me, who won a technical award earlier in the week), and the centerpiece of the stage was a huge mock-up of this. Unfortunately, though, the ceremony got off to a bad start with a cheesy dance number and went downhill from there. Host Dick Scheer (sic) did a decent monologue, but when he said 35 awards were to be presented my heart sank, because I knew that meant a long-ass show. And then there were the endless bits - from the first presenter David Wain (sic) of the series Wainy Days, who had to prove he wasn't really the nerd he plays by going out into the audience to hit on a woman (too long, not funny) to a host of others that I can't remember now, because, well, they sucked. And the technical issues! My God, it was like tech rehearsal at the high school senior play! Mics went out. The scrolling video for the nominees went out, and the presenters didn't have them on a list, so the back-up plan was - to start the video over from the beginning of the show? And while we were waiting, along with the bored host and presenter, two fully naked guys actually streaked across the stage. Great, it's the 1970s! It went on and on, and by the time two hours had passed they had only given out 10 of the awards. Our group looked at each other and said, "Ready to go?" And we all were more than ready. We later found out that the show went on for three more hours!
To tell you the truth, I was truly embarrassed by this display. We are supposed to be representing the future of entertainment. These people acted like they had all gotten together in a room a few days before the event, thought up a bunch of bits that sounded good, and didn't eliminate (or rehearse) any of them. The humor was frat-boy, sophomoric, dick and toilet jokes most of the night. It was clear that there had been little or no technical planning, because there were so many mistakes and glitches. I have directed business meetings that went more elegantly. And it made me angry, because the people who bothered to watch on the web now think that if this is the future of entertainment, they're not buying, and now it will make it even harder for writers and actors like us to get funding for the really good programming that we are putting together. It was a major wasted opportunity for our industry and we all were upset about it. We went out to dinner afterward to gripe, and everyone agreed that the event had been a bust, but that the red carpet had been a blast! And we got coverage in the press the next day (see interview above), so it definitely was not a waste in terms of getting the show noticed. Who knows? Maybe we can finally get the last ten episodes funded and find out who wins "Whorified!"
Til next time,
Jennie
Monday, April 19, 2010
My Audition for "Don't Forget the Lyrics"
I love song lyrics. Melodies are nice, but to me, the lyrics make the song. Nothing makes me madder than to hear some drummer or guitarist say something like, "the lyrics don't matter anyway," when they are trying to pitch a project to me. I am a singer/songwriter. OF COURSE the lyrics matter! So when I got the chance to audition for the new, daytime syndicated version of "Don't Forget the Lyrics," I was thrilled.
I have actually auditioned for this show twice before, when it was on at night, hosted by the hilarious and immensely talented Wayne Brady, and you could win $1 million. However, both times, although I did well on the written lyrics test, I must have been nervous, because I had too much vibrato on Carly Simon's "Let the River Run," and my voice cracked on the big high note on Juice Newton's "The Sweetest Thing." Plus these are really old songs, and kind of obscure. So I never got to meet the producers who ultimately choose who gets on the show. This year, when the casting director called me, she actually said, "We really want to get you on the show this year. So we want you to come to the open call, but with a VIP appointment so you can meet our new host AND meet the producers." Wow - that was a big step in the right direction! I just had to take the lyrics test right then, on the phone. No pressure. Actually, the test wasn't too hard. Most of the songs were from my dating era, the 1970s and 80s, and since I have sung in so many bands, I knew a lot of songs from the 1950-60s and 1990s. It's only the last decade that I suck at, like rap and hip hop. If I get on the show, I will have to study hard. She told me I only missed 3 out of 30 songs, which she said was "great." The hardest thing is they want the exact lyric, with the prepositions like "the" and "that", etc., in the right places, which is not easy. But I got the VIP slot.
The new host is Mark McGrath of E! Extra and former (current?) lead singer of Sugar Ray, a band I had never heard of, but apparently he is very famous. The open call was held at the ESPN Zone's LA Live Club in the huge open air mall in front of the Staples Center where the Lakers play. It was an absolutely gorgeous Saturday, and when I arrived for my 2 p.m. appointment, there was a long line of people waiting to get in, non-VIPs as it turned out. The Casting Director had told me on the phone to park and come directly to the front of the line when I arrived, so I did, avoiding the dirty looks of all the people on line. However, I didn't get to go right in - far from it. I had to get into a shorter line to fill out paper work, with questions like "how many songs do you know the lyrics to" to questions like "what is the biggest risk you have ever taken?" They like interesting answers, so I tried to come up with stuff that they would like to hear about.
While I was in line, I started talking to the other people around me, as I usually do, making insta-friends and handing out cards. There were about 12 of us waiting to go in, and of that 12, three of us including me were from Alabama! Now, I meet Southerners in LA all the time - they love the climate, and it's not as liberal as San Francisco, so they fit in better here - but for 25% of the line to be from my home state was quite a coincidence. We had photos made accordingly. Finally, Mark McGrath appeared, in full makeup with his hair seriously gelled into a forest of points. He was very cute with a nice, Hollywood-white smile. He was with a full camera crew, and he said he wanted to go down the row of 12 and have us all tell about ourselves and sing a song for the camera. This will be shown on E!Extra as the new promo for the show (sorry, I don't know when). I wasn't really ready for this - windblown hair, sunburned face, not warmed up, but you do what you have to do. So when my moment came, he asked the usual questions: where are you from? how long have you been here? are you nervous? what are you going to sing? I told him I wasn't nervous, and he said why, because you might forget the lyrics. I said "honey, I KNOW these lyrics." He actually blushed a little. So I sang the Lee Ann Rimes country ballad "How DO I Live" directly to him, touching his shoulder and his cheek and really flirting big-time. When I was done, he said, "You sure are a polished singer." I told him that I used to be a wedding singer and that I really wanted to get on the show. He replied, "Well you sure have the personality for it." So I think that part went well.
Then it was time to go inside and meet the producer, in this case a producer's assistant, although I do think one of the producers was listening outsider at one point. She took 12 of us into a large room with glass walls that was very noisy. I could hardly hear myself speak. She asked us a few questions based on our paperwork, but mostly they wanted to know what our favorite kind of music is and why and then to hear us sing a song loudly from that genre. When it was my turn I sang my old stand-by, "Let's Give Em Something to Talk About," and I actually think I went up too high on the jump during the verse which would be really bad. I'm not sure because like I said, I couldn't hear myself. But although it was a strong confident belt with good tone, the wrong note is still the wrong note. And I can sing that song in my sleep! When we had all sung, and there were some fabulous performances including one totally buttoned down white woman who did a perfect version of "Baby Got Back," the producer's assistant asked five women to stay so she could ask them a few more questions, and I was not one of them. She assured us that that didn't mean anything in terms of whether we were cast or not, but in my experience, it almost certainly means that we were not. Damn. She did say that if we had not heard by the first week of July, it meant we didn't make it this year, but I didn't need to hear that to know that I had probably missed the cut once again.
So what did I learn? Well, I learned that the new show is only going to have a payout of $100,000, so it's best to try to get on a game show when it is in prime time. I learned that while I'm not nervous in interviews with celebrities (more on that in my upcoming post in "The Streamys"), it still doesn't help my singing. I learned I need to rehearse for auditions like this so I can sing better. And I learned I'm still pretty competitive, and I'm going to keep on doing this until I get back on a Game Show, any game show, and win some more money!
Til next time,
Namaste
Jennie
I have actually auditioned for this show twice before, when it was on at night, hosted by the hilarious and immensely talented Wayne Brady, and you could win $1 million. However, both times, although I did well on the written lyrics test, I must have been nervous, because I had too much vibrato on Carly Simon's "Let the River Run," and my voice cracked on the big high note on Juice Newton's "The Sweetest Thing." Plus these are really old songs, and kind of obscure. So I never got to meet the producers who ultimately choose who gets on the show. This year, when the casting director called me, she actually said, "We really want to get you on the show this year. So we want you to come to the open call, but with a VIP appointment so you can meet our new host AND meet the producers." Wow - that was a big step in the right direction! I just had to take the lyrics test right then, on the phone. No pressure. Actually, the test wasn't too hard. Most of the songs were from my dating era, the 1970s and 80s, and since I have sung in so many bands, I knew a lot of songs from the 1950-60s and 1990s. It's only the last decade that I suck at, like rap and hip hop. If I get on the show, I will have to study hard. She told me I only missed 3 out of 30 songs, which she said was "great." The hardest thing is they want the exact lyric, with the prepositions like "the" and "that", etc., in the right places, which is not easy. But I got the VIP slot.
The new host is Mark McGrath of E! Extra and former (current?) lead singer of Sugar Ray, a band I had never heard of, but apparently he is very famous. The open call was held at the ESPN Zone's LA Live Club in the huge open air mall in front of the Staples Center where the Lakers play. It was an absolutely gorgeous Saturday, and when I arrived for my 2 p.m. appointment, there was a long line of people waiting to get in, non-VIPs as it turned out. The Casting Director had told me on the phone to park and come directly to the front of the line when I arrived, so I did, avoiding the dirty looks of all the people on line. However, I didn't get to go right in - far from it. I had to get into a shorter line to fill out paper work, with questions like "how many songs do you know the lyrics to" to questions like "what is the biggest risk you have ever taken?" They like interesting answers, so I tried to come up with stuff that they would like to hear about.
While I was in line, I started talking to the other people around me, as I usually do, making insta-friends and handing out cards. There were about 12 of us waiting to go in, and of that 12, three of us including me were from Alabama! Now, I meet Southerners in LA all the time - they love the climate, and it's not as liberal as San Francisco, so they fit in better here - but for 25% of the line to be from my home state was quite a coincidence. We had photos made accordingly. Finally, Mark McGrath appeared, in full makeup with his hair seriously gelled into a forest of points. He was very cute with a nice, Hollywood-white smile. He was with a full camera crew, and he said he wanted to go down the row of 12 and have us all tell about ourselves and sing a song for the camera. This will be shown on E!Extra as the new promo for the show (sorry, I don't know when). I wasn't really ready for this - windblown hair, sunburned face, not warmed up, but you do what you have to do. So when my moment came, he asked the usual questions: where are you from? how long have you been here? are you nervous? what are you going to sing? I told him I wasn't nervous, and he said why, because you might forget the lyrics. I said "honey, I KNOW these lyrics." He actually blushed a little. So I sang the Lee Ann Rimes country ballad "How DO I Live" directly to him, touching his shoulder and his cheek and really flirting big-time. When I was done, he said, "You sure are a polished singer." I told him that I used to be a wedding singer and that I really wanted to get on the show. He replied, "Well you sure have the personality for it." So I think that part went well.
Then it was time to go inside and meet the producer, in this case a producer's assistant, although I do think one of the producers was listening outsider at one point. She took 12 of us into a large room with glass walls that was very noisy. I could hardly hear myself speak. She asked us a few questions based on our paperwork, but mostly they wanted to know what our favorite kind of music is and why and then to hear us sing a song loudly from that genre. When it was my turn I sang my old stand-by, "Let's Give Em Something to Talk About," and I actually think I went up too high on the jump during the verse which would be really bad. I'm not sure because like I said, I couldn't hear myself. But although it was a strong confident belt with good tone, the wrong note is still the wrong note. And I can sing that song in my sleep! When we had all sung, and there were some fabulous performances including one totally buttoned down white woman who did a perfect version of "Baby Got Back," the producer's assistant asked five women to stay so she could ask them a few more questions, and I was not one of them. She assured us that that didn't mean anything in terms of whether we were cast or not, but in my experience, it almost certainly means that we were not. Damn. She did say that if we had not heard by the first week of July, it meant we didn't make it this year, but I didn't need to hear that to know that I had probably missed the cut once again.
So what did I learn? Well, I learned that the new show is only going to have a payout of $100,000, so it's best to try to get on a game show when it is in prime time. I learned that while I'm not nervous in interviews with celebrities (more on that in my upcoming post in "The Streamys"), it still doesn't help my singing. I learned I need to rehearse for auditions like this so I can sing better. And I learned I'm still pretty competitive, and I'm going to keep on doing this until I get back on a Game Show, any game show, and win some more money!
Til next time,
Namaste
Jennie
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
"Held Up" and Post-Shoot Depression
It's now early April, and I'm coming off the best shoot I've ever participated in. So why do I feel so sad? Well, it's that rarely discussed but often experienced phenomenon that I call post-shoot depression, hereafter to be called PSD, that actors get at the end of an intense project where the players have bonded so tightly that we feel like family, yet when we wrap we know it's likely we'll never see each other again, at least not in the same context. But I'm getting ahead of my story.
When I last wrote, I had just finished a shoot for an episode of "The Office." It was intense, too, and the hours were long, and I worked with a core of about four people, but I didn't bond with them. Although we exchanged e-mails, I doubt any of us will be in touch. The atmosphere was just too busy, too loud, too hectic to allow for any real sharing. When I got back to LA, I didn't have plans for a long shoot, just a couple of auditions. I actually was already in rehearsals for a web series and a short film in the Bay Area. But then I got a call from a casting director who said he had seen my picture on Now Casting for a new comedy called "Held Up," a web series backed by Sony TV to be directed by Steve Carr ("Paul Blart: Mall Cop"). Although the role was just as a hostage (one of eight), as a featured background player I would get a lot of exposure and would get to be in the scenes with some high-profile comedic talent, plus get paid $125 a day. I said yes immediately. This was a golden opportunity for me. The writers are the well-known comedic improv actors Rusty and Jason Sklar. Most of the principles all had backgounds in comic improv troupes like the Groundlings in LA and Second City in Chicago. And since the cast was very small, I would get to work with Steve Carr directly. Steve has directed many music videos as well as other film comedies including "Daddy Day Care" and "Doctor Dolittle 2" and has a good reputation as a great guy to work with. So I was thrilled to be cast.
I had to drop out of my two projects in the Bay Area, and as it turned out, every single day I worked on the series I had to turn down at least one audition in LA. Plus, the call times were usually 7 a.m., which meant I had to get up at 5:30 to get to Woodland Hills, a suburb in the Valley about 20 miles from my apartment in Hollywood, on time. We started shooting on a Sunday, so the traffic was light, and I arrived at 7 a.m. on the dot. Normally, "on time" on a big call is 15 minutes early, but since this was a small shoot located in a vacant former bank, I wasn't too worried about not being early. As it turned out, I was the third background player there. There were five women and three men; one of the girls was a Facebook friend that I had never actually met, and one of the men was a close friend of the director's, a musician who had never acted. Our holding area was outside under two large open-air tents, with three craft services tables placed around the corner that were perpetually filled with caloric delights to tempt us. I don't know how actors stay so thin! We socialized over breakfast, filling in the usual details: how did you get cast, where do you live, how long have you been acting, what's your "day" job, do you know anyone in the cast, etc. While we chatted, each of us visited the wardrobe trailer to be approved for camera. I had been asked to bring five choices, from casual to bank manager, and the choice they went with was a smock top layered over a black knit top and leggings. It was the most comfortable thing I had brought, knowing that we would be wearing it every day for the 10 days of the shoot. Then I visited the "honey wagon," Hollywood's term for hair and makeup, and was approved to wear my hair straighter than usual and with bangs, and minimal makeup. Easy as pie.
After we were all dressed, we settled into the rhythm of the shoot: hurry up and wait. Every day we would arrive ahead of the rest of the cast, check in with the casting director/assistant director (the same person in this case, though this is not the norm), go to wardrobe, change, have breakfast, stand around and talk, check with the AD about when we would be used, then sit down and talk until they were ready for us, which was usually not until at least three hours later and sometimes as much as six. And this was out of what was usually a 12-hour day. The weather was gorgeous, once the cool morning gloom had burned off; it was usually in the 50s when we arrived but in the 80s and sunny by noon, with a light breeze. It was perfect for sitting around and talking about anything and everything, which is what we did. The project was a comedy, so there was a lot of laughter on the set, and we had a wide variety of people as extras who had great personalities and lots of funny and interesting stories to tell. We bonded closely, just as I imagine real hostages in a bank hold-up might do. We filmed the hostage situation in chronological order, as if we were hostages for 14 days. By that time, I felt like I had known my fellow background actors for my whole life, and I almost cried when I had to say goodbye to some of them.
I have had similar PSD experiences when I have worked on long projects like plays. On my first acting job, when I was in the ensemble for "Little Shop of Horrors," our cast grew especially close. I thought a lot of the reason was because 9/11 happened during our rehearsal period, and also because between rehearsals and the run, we were together for nearly three months. I made some close friends in that cast, some of whom I still am in touch with nearly nine years later, and I have acted with some of them in other projects. Plays and musicals always lend themselves to bonding because you do spend much more time together. But you are usually working a lot more than we were on this set. We had a lot of time to just sit and read, nap, play trivia or Jenga like some of girls did (reaching what must be a record of 35 levels!), play guitar like Steve's musician friend, or experiment with photos like another of the women did. And of course, talk, and eat. We had a little squirrel who we started to feed every day, until he got into one woman's market basket and stole an entire apple, which he carried to the top of a tall tree and then collapsed exhausted on a branch! We decided he had enough food at that point.
I did get to act, quite a bit. Steve used all of us every day. I was featured in the opening sequence where the first set (there are two) of bank robbers enter, screaming and dropping to the ground, in which Steve directed me personally. All of us got featured at some point in the series. The hostage group was used mostly in reaction to the principles, either in disbelief or fear or anger. And I was featured again, joyously being released from the bank. Best of all, because my contract reads the same as that of all the other players, I will be able to join SAG at the end of October, after I have been in AFTRA for one year, because the contract says I have spoken lines. So that is fantastic news for me. Filming was also like a master class in comedy, watching so many great improv actors change up their scenes using different words and expressions from take to take. It's nice to get paid, but honestly, I would do this for free.
Sony is the backer for this web series, and we were told it will be premiering on their web content channel (www.crackle.com) in August of 2010. We were also told that they are going to release it as a 90-minute feature, but I'm not sure when, or if it will be straight to DVD or in theaters or what. I honestly think it is hilarious and could be as successful as recent movies such as "The Hangover," but we'll just have to see. For me, it was just great to be part of the experience. I'm not sure exactly why I was cast, but I feel really lucky and like it may lead me to better things. Now if I can just find a cure for PSD, I'll be fine. The best cure, usually, is to get back to work. I'm working on that.
Til next time,
Jennie
When I last wrote, I had just finished a shoot for an episode of "The Office." It was intense, too, and the hours were long, and I worked with a core of about four people, but I didn't bond with them. Although we exchanged e-mails, I doubt any of us will be in touch. The atmosphere was just too busy, too loud, too hectic to allow for any real sharing. When I got back to LA, I didn't have plans for a long shoot, just a couple of auditions. I actually was already in rehearsals for a web series and a short film in the Bay Area. But then I got a call from a casting director who said he had seen my picture on Now Casting for a new comedy called "Held Up," a web series backed by Sony TV to be directed by Steve Carr ("Paul Blart: Mall Cop"). Although the role was just as a hostage (one of eight), as a featured background player I would get a lot of exposure and would get to be in the scenes with some high-profile comedic talent, plus get paid $125 a day. I said yes immediately. This was a golden opportunity for me. The writers are the well-known comedic improv actors Rusty and Jason Sklar. Most of the principles all had backgounds in comic improv troupes like the Groundlings in LA and Second City in Chicago. And since the cast was very small, I would get to work with Steve Carr directly. Steve has directed many music videos as well as other film comedies including "Daddy Day Care" and "Doctor Dolittle 2" and has a good reputation as a great guy to work with. So I was thrilled to be cast.
I had to drop out of my two projects in the Bay Area, and as it turned out, every single day I worked on the series I had to turn down at least one audition in LA. Plus, the call times were usually 7 a.m., which meant I had to get up at 5:30 to get to Woodland Hills, a suburb in the Valley about 20 miles from my apartment in Hollywood, on time. We started shooting on a Sunday, so the traffic was light, and I arrived at 7 a.m. on the dot. Normally, "on time" on a big call is 15 minutes early, but since this was a small shoot located in a vacant former bank, I wasn't too worried about not being early. As it turned out, I was the third background player there. There were five women and three men; one of the girls was a Facebook friend that I had never actually met, and one of the men was a close friend of the director's, a musician who had never acted. Our holding area was outside under two large open-air tents, with three craft services tables placed around the corner that were perpetually filled with caloric delights to tempt us. I don't know how actors stay so thin! We socialized over breakfast, filling in the usual details: how did you get cast, where do you live, how long have you been acting, what's your "day" job, do you know anyone in the cast, etc. While we chatted, each of us visited the wardrobe trailer to be approved for camera. I had been asked to bring five choices, from casual to bank manager, and the choice they went with was a smock top layered over a black knit top and leggings. It was the most comfortable thing I had brought, knowing that we would be wearing it every day for the 10 days of the shoot. Then I visited the "honey wagon," Hollywood's term for hair and makeup, and was approved to wear my hair straighter than usual and with bangs, and minimal makeup. Easy as pie.
After we were all dressed, we settled into the rhythm of the shoot: hurry up and wait. Every day we would arrive ahead of the rest of the cast, check in with the casting director/assistant director (the same person in this case, though this is not the norm), go to wardrobe, change, have breakfast, stand around and talk, check with the AD about when we would be used, then sit down and talk until they were ready for us, which was usually not until at least three hours later and sometimes as much as six. And this was out of what was usually a 12-hour day. The weather was gorgeous, once the cool morning gloom had burned off; it was usually in the 50s when we arrived but in the 80s and sunny by noon, with a light breeze. It was perfect for sitting around and talking about anything and everything, which is what we did. The project was a comedy, so there was a lot of laughter on the set, and we had a wide variety of people as extras who had great personalities and lots of funny and interesting stories to tell. We bonded closely, just as I imagine real hostages in a bank hold-up might do. We filmed the hostage situation in chronological order, as if we were hostages for 14 days. By that time, I felt like I had known my fellow background actors for my whole life, and I almost cried when I had to say goodbye to some of them.
I have had similar PSD experiences when I have worked on long projects like plays. On my first acting job, when I was in the ensemble for "Little Shop of Horrors," our cast grew especially close. I thought a lot of the reason was because 9/11 happened during our rehearsal period, and also because between rehearsals and the run, we were together for nearly three months. I made some close friends in that cast, some of whom I still am in touch with nearly nine years later, and I have acted with some of them in other projects. Plays and musicals always lend themselves to bonding because you do spend much more time together. But you are usually working a lot more than we were on this set. We had a lot of time to just sit and read, nap, play trivia or Jenga like some of girls did (reaching what must be a record of 35 levels!), play guitar like Steve's musician friend, or experiment with photos like another of the women did. And of course, talk, and eat. We had a little squirrel who we started to feed every day, until he got into one woman's market basket and stole an entire apple, which he carried to the top of a tall tree and then collapsed exhausted on a branch! We decided he had enough food at that point.
I did get to act, quite a bit. Steve used all of us every day. I was featured in the opening sequence where the first set (there are two) of bank robbers enter, screaming and dropping to the ground, in which Steve directed me personally. All of us got featured at some point in the series. The hostage group was used mostly in reaction to the principles, either in disbelief or fear or anger. And I was featured again, joyously being released from the bank. Best of all, because my contract reads the same as that of all the other players, I will be able to join SAG at the end of October, after I have been in AFTRA for one year, because the contract says I have spoken lines. So that is fantastic news for me. Filming was also like a master class in comedy, watching so many great improv actors change up their scenes using different words and expressions from take to take. It's nice to get paid, but honestly, I would do this for free.
Sony is the backer for this web series, and we were told it will be premiering on their web content channel (www.crackle.com) in August of 2010. We were also told that they are going to release it as a 90-minute feature, but I'm not sure when, or if it will be straight to DVD or in theaters or what. I honestly think it is hilarious and could be as successful as recent movies such as "The Hangover," but we'll just have to see. For me, it was just great to be part of the experience. I'm not sure exactly why I was cast, but I feel really lucky and like it may lead me to better things. Now if I can just find a cure for PSD, I'll be fine. The best cure, usually, is to get back to work. I'm working on that.
Til next time,
Jennie
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