Having grown up on Buffy the Vampire Slayer, I think it's kind of funny that it took me so long to get into Joss Whedon's latest projects.
I heard for years that I "had" to watch Firefly, and when the series was canceled, I did watch the movie, "Serenity," but I didn't actually watch the series until this past December. Needless to say, I LOVED it, and I asked for the DVD set for Christmas, which I received.
But now, I just Netflixed season one of Dollhouse and I frigging LOVED it too.
So now I'm all pissed that it just got canceled.
The next time Joss Whedon has a show, I need to start watching before it gets canceled.
Monday, February 8, 2010
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Audition Log 1/26/10
"The Crucible"
The Gallery Players, Brooklyn
I felt pretty good about this one going in. My fake-uncle (he was the guitarist in my dad's old band, so for all the years I've known him, he's been Uncle John) has worked with them before, so he told me he'd mention my name to the director.
Of course, given the fact that I was one among seven HUNDRED girls who showed up for this audition, I really doubt they would have even remembered my name by the time I walked into the room.
My God there were a lot of girls there.
BUT... I have very long hair, and I did a monologue from Miss Julie, which was totally the kind of strong young woman from yester-year monologue that would put them in mind of Abigail. Cross my fingers.
The way I see it, in all these Theatre Companies that have been operating for years, there are always people who know each other, who have worked together on past productions, who maybe have a little bit of a leg-up at the auditions.
And then one day a show comes along that you're perfect for, and you go to the audition feeling confident that even though the artistic directors claim that they haven't pre-cast, that this role is meant for YOU.
And then, some bitch comes swooping in from out of nowhere and grabs up the perfect role that you've spent the past three years suffering in the chorus line to earn.
The way I see it, I could be that bitch.
Callbacks are Saturday, but just because I haven't heard anything yet doesn't mean I won't.
The Gallery Players, Brooklyn
I felt pretty good about this one going in. My fake-uncle (he was the guitarist in my dad's old band, so for all the years I've known him, he's been Uncle John) has worked with them before, so he told me he'd mention my name to the director.
Of course, given the fact that I was one among seven HUNDRED girls who showed up for this audition, I really doubt they would have even remembered my name by the time I walked into the room.
My God there were a lot of girls there.
BUT... I have very long hair, and I did a monologue from Miss Julie, which was totally the kind of strong young woman from yester-year monologue that would put them in mind of Abigail. Cross my fingers.
The way I see it, in all these Theatre Companies that have been operating for years, there are always people who know each other, who have worked together on past productions, who maybe have a little bit of a leg-up at the auditions.
And then one day a show comes along that you're perfect for, and you go to the audition feeling confident that even though the artistic directors claim that they haven't pre-cast, that this role is meant for YOU.
And then, some bitch comes swooping in from out of nowhere and grabs up the perfect role that you've spent the past three years suffering in the chorus line to earn.
The way I see it, I could be that bitch.
Callbacks are Saturday, but just because I haven't heard anything yet doesn't mean I won't.
Monday, January 25, 2010
Audition Log: 1/24/10
New York Film Academy
"Stockholm Syndrome"
Dear Michele,
Based on the track record you have of great film auditions as opposed to crappy musical theatre auditions, you are supposed to do film.
Do film.
Love,
Michele
Granted 12:30 in the afternoon doesn't sound like a very early morning, but my internal clock has been switched to "nocturnal" for the past few weeks and I haven't been getting to sleep any earlier than 5am no matter what time I actually lay down in the bed.
But I made it to the train with more than enough time to make it to Union Square before my appointment, and unlike the massive brain fart that preceeded last night's audition, I actually had my headshot and resume with me.
So I transfer at Grand Central for the 5 minute ride downtown, and just before I get on the train I happened to check the email the producer sent me the day before.
Be prepared to read from sides. Check. There also may be some improvisation. Check. Have a one to two minute dramatic monologue. Che... guh.
And this is the moment when I realize that I don't have a contemporary dramatic monologue in my repetoire.
Contemporary comedic I have. Classical dramatic I have.
So in the spirit taught to me by the great instructors at the Upright Citizens Brigade, I pulled something straight out of my ass.
Some of the words may have been a little off and I'm pretty sure I combined the beginning of the monologue with the end of the monologue, but I got the spirit of it. And it's a good thing too, because we didn't do scenes and we didn't really improvise. I just did the monologue, and then the director told me a little about the film, gave me an adjustment and I did the beginning of the monologue again.
Phew.
And all in all I think it went really well. I felt good about it.
"Stockholm Syndrome"
Dear Michele,
Based on the track record you have of great film auditions as opposed to crappy musical theatre auditions, you are supposed to do film.
Do film.
Love,
Michele
Granted 12:30 in the afternoon doesn't sound like a very early morning, but my internal clock has been switched to "nocturnal" for the past few weeks and I haven't been getting to sleep any earlier than 5am no matter what time I actually lay down in the bed.
But I made it to the train with more than enough time to make it to Union Square before my appointment, and unlike the massive brain fart that preceeded last night's audition, I actually had my headshot and resume with me.
So I transfer at Grand Central for the 5 minute ride downtown, and just before I get on the train I happened to check the email the producer sent me the day before.
Be prepared to read from sides. Check. There also may be some improvisation. Check. Have a one to two minute dramatic monologue. Che... guh.
And this is the moment when I realize that I don't have a contemporary dramatic monologue in my repetoire.
Contemporary comedic I have. Classical dramatic I have.
So in the spirit taught to me by the great instructors at the Upright Citizens Brigade, I pulled something straight out of my ass.
Some of the words may have been a little off and I'm pretty sure I combined the beginning of the monologue with the end of the monologue, but I got the spirit of it. And it's a good thing too, because we didn't do scenes and we didn't really improvise. I just did the monologue, and then the director told me a little about the film, gave me an adjustment and I did the beginning of the monologue again.
Phew.
And all in all I think it went really well. I felt good about it.
Saturday, January 23, 2010
Audition Log: 1/23/09
New York Film Academy
"Perfidia"
So not only did I get on the train with seconds to spare before possibly being late for this audition, I realized just as the doors were closing that I, in my infinite wisdom, did not have my portfolio with me.
So headshot, resume...nope, didn't have it.
No time to go back, I was already risking being late, and what was I supposed to do? Not go?
F that.
As it turned out, I was not late. In fact, I walked in a full ten minutes early, and they sent me right in.
And the reaction to my not having a headshot and resume on me?
Meh.
The part is this 1940s lounge singer who accidently kills her boyfriend. Awesome! So they had me sing, and she asked me to imagine my boyfriend lying dead on the ground. Ha ha, it was really fun. I got to sing and cry.
I feel a sense of catharsis.
Aristotle would be proud.
"Perfidia"
So not only did I get on the train with seconds to spare before possibly being late for this audition, I realized just as the doors were closing that I, in my infinite wisdom, did not have my portfolio with me.
So headshot, resume...nope, didn't have it.
No time to go back, I was already risking being late, and what was I supposed to do? Not go?
F that.
As it turned out, I was not late. In fact, I walked in a full ten minutes early, and they sent me right in.
And the reaction to my not having a headshot and resume on me?
Meh.
The part is this 1940s lounge singer who accidently kills her boyfriend. Awesome! So they had me sing, and she asked me to imagine my boyfriend lying dead on the ground. Ha ha, it was really fun. I got to sing and cry.
I feel a sense of catharsis.
Aristotle would be proud.
Friday, January 22, 2010
Okay...
If there were a way to attach a song to a blog entry, the one playing while you read this would be "Lose Yourself" by Eminem.
Or "Party in the USA" by Miley Cyrus.
Yeah, that's just how I roll.
Well, the Hair thing got me to thinking the past two days. I don't think this whole Equity Call thing is going to work for me.
I mean there's something very noble to the idea that if I show up at 6 in the morning and sit around until all the Equity people are gone, and if I actually get seen and if I'm good enough to totally knock their socks off, I could potentially get a role in a Broadway musical. And I know people who have paid their dues and gone to these calls and gotten remembered by casting directors and eventually end up getting called in for something.
But seriously, sometimes it just doesn't seem worth it to me.
I mean, I don't think the act of auditioning isn't worth it. This is not my final blog announcing my retirement from theatre. I just mean the big ones. The American Idol-esque auditions for the big money shows. Like Hair. The ones that EVERYBODY comes out for. I mean, when 500 girls show up for auditions, you have to wonder just how closely they're even looking at each person.
And when I close my eyes and I picture myself in ten years, in five years, in (God willing) two years, I am not on Broadway. I'm on T.V. or at a movie premiere or at the Golden Globes. That's the fame I'm reaching towards.
And again we come 'round to the idea of L.A.
Balls.
Well, before I pack up my whole life and move to L.A. to pursue a career in film, one thing is for certain. I need a damn fine reel. Which means I need some more film experience. And I need to email some very lazy directors and tell them to pack an envelope full of bubble wrap and send me my DVD. Dangit.
Onward. Ho.
Or "Party in the USA" by Miley Cyrus.
Yeah, that's just how I roll.
Well, the Hair thing got me to thinking the past two days. I don't think this whole Equity Call thing is going to work for me.
I mean there's something very noble to the idea that if I show up at 6 in the morning and sit around until all the Equity people are gone, and if I actually get seen and if I'm good enough to totally knock their socks off, I could potentially get a role in a Broadway musical. And I know people who have paid their dues and gone to these calls and gotten remembered by casting directors and eventually end up getting called in for something.
But seriously, sometimes it just doesn't seem worth it to me.
I mean, I don't think the act of auditioning isn't worth it. This is not my final blog announcing my retirement from theatre. I just mean the big ones. The American Idol-esque auditions for the big money shows. Like Hair. The ones that EVERYBODY comes out for. I mean, when 500 girls show up for auditions, you have to wonder just how closely they're even looking at each person.
And when I close my eyes and I picture myself in ten years, in five years, in (God willing) two years, I am not on Broadway. I'm on T.V. or at a movie premiere or at the Golden Globes. That's the fame I'm reaching towards.
And again we come 'round to the idea of L.A.
Balls.
Well, before I pack up my whole life and move to L.A. to pursue a career in film, one thing is for certain. I need a damn fine reel. Which means I need some more film experience. And I need to email some very lazy directors and tell them to pack an envelope full of bubble wrap and send me my DVD. Dangit.
Onward. Ho.
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