The God Complex
Friday, January 20, 2012 at 7:48AM Knock knock.
Who’s there?
No one. Absolutely no one.
I’m assuming that’s what your response to this post will be. Since I’ve been gone for several months, and in the world of the internet that’s like trying to brush off some Brontosaurus bones and make her walk again. I accept my fate. And to you who are reading (Mom), I’ve missed you. Really, really badly.
<stretching out typing fingers and trying to make brain synapses happen>
Ahem.
So…
Some people are born into money. Others are born into poverty. I on the other hand, was born into the fate of working every weird job on the planet.
I’m still working at the casting studio part-time. Full-time I audition and act — that in itself is a Mexican soap opera. But, today I’m gonna focus on the studio.
Part of my job is to sit in the room after a callback while the ad agency, the production company, and the director all deliberate on what actors they want to cast. And oh lawdy, is it ever a process. No, calling it a process would be unfair to science. Often, the deliberation period is more like drinking 5 Adios Motherfuckers, spinning around in circles, and then trying to play pin the pasties on the stripper. It’s a formal shit show.
Now, there are amazing commercial directors who actually know what they’re doing, don’t take themselves too seriously, and with the confines of advertising, create an amazing product. I believe these guys are true artists.
And then there are the rest of them.
In my two years of working at the studio, it’s kind of remarkable that I’m still an actor, knowing how some people talk about us after a callback.
“Yeah, let’s just put Horseface with Fatty. She’s so ugly she’d have to marry a fat guy anyway.”
That’s an actual quote.
The worst is when they start talking shit about one of your friends who had a callback.
That’s when I bury myself in my phone in a gripping game of Bejeweled so as not to mortally injure someone. I’ve gotten incredibly daft at the hard earned skill of NOT LISTENING. You can’t. Or else you end up an alcoholic. Or in jail.
Which reminds me of last week, when I worked a series of callbacks for the same client. They just couldn’t find anyone good enough for the role… The role of saying two lines… There was just absolutely NO ONE who they felt could pull it off. So they auditioned everyone in town. And isn’t it crazy, in a city full of artists, not one person could say the two lines. I mean, WOW! Whodda thunk?!
<banging head on cement wall>
This is how it breaks down: there is bottomless money in advertising and these people who are making decisions of which actors will be in commercials are for the most part, on vacation. They fly in from New York, or Chicago, or bumfuck wherever and—
It’s pretty in LA! It’s warm here! There are so many pretty people! We can’t wait to nit-pick the shit out of them! And there’s free food and free booze and a free suite at the Chateau and there’s slaves to fetch you things!
“Get me a pen! No, a blue pen! No! A blue pen made in Monaco!”
But best of all, there’s a sea of actors who need us! They need us to pick them so they can pay their rent. So they can eat. So they can call home and say, “Hey! I booked a StarKist Tuna commercial! See, I’m making something of my life!”
Oh good gawd, you see my daily spiral?
Anybreakdownontheway, the other day was my final day working this series of callbacks for the same clients. They had now extended their vacation for a week because they still couldn’t find that one perfect person. This would be a good time to note that NOT ONCE did they ever look me in the eye or answer any of my questions. Not once. They were that cool.
And apparently not finding the right actor was more than the director could handle. So, he stopped the callback halfway through so that his healer could come to the studio and give him a healing.
I mean…
I mean WHAT?
You are a grown-up. You are getting paid tens of thousands of dollars EACH DAY to do your job. SO DO IT ALREADY!!!
Meanwhile, we all waited while he went into a private back office with the healer (not before he complained that the office was too small…)
I’m pretty sure that the healer was just a stripper that he pays to urinate on. After his session, he still didn’t acknowledge that I was infact a homosapien so I cannot confirm that any “healing” occurred. Dick.
Oh but see, it’s people like this who, as actors, decide our fate. Oh goddamn, just typing that sentence made me put my fingers in my ears and spout, “mumumumumumumumum I can’t hear anything, mumumumumum, I don’t wanna know what’s going on, mumumumum.”
So yeah, marijuana’s helpful. So is wine. For the month of January though I’m doing a little cleanse (because see, being a citizen of California you must do a cleanse). I’m not drinking or smoking during the week. It’s a torture I wouldn’t even wish upon the guys who are a 10 on the Dickter Scale. But it’s also good. Cuz see, I’m back. Back to my piss and vinegar HHHing ways.
Hey, slave, get me a Perrier!
Reader Comments (24)
Yay! You're back!!! This post is awesome.
It's been too loooooooooooooooong!
How do you find these jobs? Oh right, it's fate. Amazing.
Hahahahaaaaaa!!!! So good.
Wow! You guys rule!
that pic is hilarious. keep going, more please.
Was missing you. Just visited your blog yesterday to see what was happening. Was sad to see you were still silent. Happy now! Welcome back.
HOLLER!!! Back and better then ever! Oh, and did you get the name and number of that Healer???
siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiick!!!!! its that part of Los Angeles, that makes me just want to move way further west and hide on the beach with the other pot babies, beach bums, and dreamers.....haha!! glad you are back hhh you were missed too.
Yay! I blinked twice when I saw this post...saying is this for real or is she messin with me! lol
I missed you and I so needed a laugh! Still cracking up at the Dicter Scale!!! I need one of those in my office!
Welcome back! :)
Spider: yay :)
Caroline: Yeah, I think her number was 1-800-mesohorny
Karen: Right?! Good gawd!
Shawna: I think Dickter Scales should be implemented in all places of employment. It's only fair.
I want a job where i go on vacation and have slaves! that sounds awesome! jealous. haha!
You need to copyright Dickter Scale. That's priceless.
You made my day!
and yes, Sweets, Mom does read every single one even when your fickle fans stray. And it's deft, not daft... only Mom will tell you these things!
Oh how I've missed you... You have a gift for making me laugh when I most need it. Glad you're back!
Sounds like that director was whipping up a fresh batch of his own vegannaise in that back office.
What. Too soon?
Sorry Mama HHH.
Yay!! The second coming of HHH has made my day! Loves you!
We need a new cocktail recipe!
welcome back.
Sara: Seriously. Let's get into advertising.
John: Thanks dude!
Emily: Aw! You always make mine.
Mom: You're tried and true, with love, support, and grammar. :)
This post rings of truth and sadness. HOW DO YOU DEAL WITH THESE PEOPLE?!?!
(Let's go get drunk)
This is hilarious! Hilarious. And horrible.
You're baaaaaaack! Sooooo happy!!!
Graham: More champagne please
puppy: The two H's...indeed.
Tara: Hip hip happy!!
cheers to HHH!