Plastic Tubes and Pots and Pans

I had a thoroughly enjoyable interview this morning with a company which sends actor/teachers to schools to perform science programs. Though I am intrigued by the prospect of a second interview, I can't honestly guess whether they are more interested in an actor or a teacher.

In a group interview (only two this morning), I sat across from a charming young woman who'd recently graduated from San Diego State University. She was obviously on the teaching track and had ready answers to the classroom-related questions our interviewer asked. As an actor, I had no such ready answers. Though I have performed for and interacted with both large and small groups of children, I have never experienced the one-to-twenty (or more) ratio of the classroom -- the position of being the only adult in the room, responsible not only for educating and entertaining children but also for maintaining order. How do you discipline an unruly child? What do you do when an experiment fails? One question is easier to answer than the other.

Handed a bottle of water in which a packet of ketchup was floating, I was asked to present an impromptu lesson on Density -- to explain why, if the water bottle is squeezed, the ketchup packet sinks. I quickly worked over the problem and improvised a two-minute demonstration while the interviewer provided child-like obstacles. In the end, I felt good about what I had done with very little prep time. Whether I'll take from that performance a job offer remains to be seen, but I did take away from the interview a wholly new hypothesis of my own.

I had begun my demonstration asking the "kids" whether they liked to go to McDonald's, thinking this would be surefire kiddie lure that would lead me naturally around to ketchup. Jeff, my interviewer, spoke up that he preferred Jack In The Box.

Oh! That's good, too! Do you get fries when you go to Jack In The Box?
Yes!
Do you like ketchup on your fries?
No. I like mustard.
Mustard is good, too. Does your mustard come in a little packet?
No, the top kinda peels back....
Oh, good. Does anybody else put mustard on their fries, too? Yes? Does your mustard come in little packs? Yes? Just like this ketchup packet here?

Even though I eventually had to abandon Jeff's character and move to one of the other 99 fictional children in the room, I realized that my natural tendency was to make the child who spoke feel as though his answer was a good one and to work with it without denying what he had said. My natural tendency was to take what the child had said, accept it, and incorporate it. My natural tendency was "Yes, And."

"Yes, And" -- if you don't know -- is the first basic rule of improv: take what your partner is giving you, accept it as truth, and build on it. It is not something that, in game play, feels remotely instinctual. I discovered in the real world today, though, that it absolutely is. When one is dealing with children.

Thus, the new hypothesis: For good improvisational work, actors should imagine they are dealing with children.

As most actors are overgrown children to begin with, testing this hypothesis would seem a relatively easy task; however as most actors also have a tendency toward childlike temper tantrums (referred to as Diva behavior), the tests could prove dangerous. A scientist in the field would have to tread carefully and never allow his subject to know the experiment was being performed.

I'm not really a scientist; I just play one in job interviews. And I'm not really an improvisational actor, either; I'm just playing one during a fund-raiser. Therefore, I leave the testing of this hypothesis to someone more brave... er... qualified than I.

Opening Gambit

Little did he know what he'd start. Two days ago, my brother sent this picture of a portion of his daughter's T-shirt. His family had been able to identify all the Marvel characters on the shirt, save one: the one in this picture. As the picture was taken with a cell phone and received by a cell phone, I couldn't tell much. Eventually, I sent the picture to myself via e-mail. I studied it, saved it, enlarged it, printed it, and I STILL can't make out the questionable character.

For two days, I've poured over the Marvel website hoping for a clue. I've sent text messages to my brother asking for a description, originally misinterpreting the shot by a mile (seeing what I thought was a silver face a la Doctor Doom). Assured the character was a hero, I was told that the face was flesh, the character wore some sort of a visor, and he sported a trenchcoat. Stymied, I sent this description and the photo to a very comics-savvy friend in Atlanta. His best first guess, from the description I gave, was Gambit, a character who first appeared in 1990 (Uncanny X-Men #266), roughly the time I stopped following comics. No surprise, then, that I wouldn't recognize him.

But is that who it really is? My Atlanta friend was only giving a best guess from limited information. And Gambit does not appear to wear a visor. The search continued, as I became less and less sure I was even looking in the right spot for this guy. At the top, Colossus is decidedly not flesh. Spidey is covered head to toe in his costume. The Hulk is an instantly recognizable green; Beast, to Spidey's right, blue. On the left, Iron Man is decidedly not flesh. And it seems that Captain America is lurking in the lower left. Therefore, the question character has got to be dead center, but all I see there is a swirl of tan and what could easily be the extension of Colossus' arm!

Giving up the search on Marvel's website (which would benefit from a better internal search engine), I spent hours on end in a new search: the one for the T-shirt. If I found the T-shirt, I believed, I would get a better look at this character. I can't tell you how many Marvel composites I sifted through on various T-shirt sites (and toy stores, and ebay...) but the search was fruitless. Gad! Surely my niece didn't find the only one of these shirts in existence!

Finally, I'm giving up completely. With no more information and no confirmation or denial of my early guesses, I'm stumped. If you, however, can read that image more clearly, have seen the shirt before, or have any helpful clue, I'm sure we'd all be more than happy to hear it!

Seems Like Old Times

One of my all-time guilty pleasure movies is Seems Like Old Times. In it, Glenda Parks (Goldie Hawn) gets caught in the middle when her fugitive ex-husband Nick (Chevy Chase) reappears much to the dismay of her current District Attorney husband, Ira (Charles Grodin). As hilarity ensues and Ira becomes irate, Glenda eventually sounds off to set him straight with the kind of bitingly funny monologue only Neil Simon can write. Caught in the middle of a similar situation, I want to argue:

"Okay, you win. You’re too smart for us, Ira. Nick and I purposely got a divorce so I could marry you, knowing that you would buy a house with a room over the garage, SO that when he was kidnapped, after he spent 2 years in a Mexican jail, robbed a bank in Carmel, and the police were after him, he could then hide out in our spare room, so while you and I were throwing parties to celebrate your running for Attorney General, I would be able to run up there, sneak away, and be able to spend 35 seconds alone with Nick. I've been found out. I confess! I confess!"

Of course, since I've never been married to anyone named Nick and I don't have a spare room over the garage (or a garage, for that matter), without proper editing the argument would just be confusing.

Mary Me

I didn't intend to read. After losing the part I wanted last week, I planned to stop auditioning for a while and concentrate solely on a job search. When it became clear at the audition, though, that I would not only be called on to read but that I also had a good chance at being cast, all thoughts of limiting myself went out the window. The director was happy to see me, the adrenalin was pumping, and the female roles weren't quite as small as I'd remembered. I was hooked. When the director offered me the part of Mary, I jumped. Absolutely! I hoped at the time that Orrick would be cast, too, but his multiple band conflicts proved daunting. That is to say, he's a busy man!

Saturday, Orrick played the Starlight Bowl in Balboa Park with The Shambles. It was a great show, performed on the hottest day of the year (and I've got the sunburn to prove it!). The Shambles were even featured on the San Diego compilation CD -- Staring at the Sun Vol. 5 -- which was given to ticket holders at the event.

Orrick's friend and fellow Pike Bishop, Cactus Dave Thomson was also in attendance, chatting up the bands and possibly arranging an appearance by The Pike Bishops at the Starlight later this season. Between the two bands, Orrick's got a full plate of upcoming appearances in San Diego and Pacific Beach.

While he's toiling away with rehearsals and shows, I'll be learning my part in Caught in the Net, the sequel to Run for Your Wife, and I can't resist a little excitement about it. Though Orrick reads the tea-leaves of Fate somewhat differently than I do, I absolutely love that my last pre-employment theatre hurrah will be a Ray Cooney farce, placing me firmly in the sequel to one of the favorite shows on my resume and in the final slot of the ACT-judged 2006-2007 season. I could not imagine a more fitting exit from the acting scene.

While the job and apartment search continues....

World's Worst... Time for a Callback

I couldn't resist. I went to the audition with Orrick last night not intending to read, but soon I was volunteering to jump on stage and filling out audition forms. In the end, both Orrick and I were called back. For Wednesday night. A night I've already commited to an improv "rehearsal."

Having been at every improv meeting so far, I considered using the "miss rehearsal" pass that other members of our troupe have enjoyed, but for fear of missing game changes and for dire need of working with members who promise finally to arrive, it's the callback that I'll miss.

Fortunately, the improv fundraiser and the show in question are being produced by the same theatre, so the rehearsal conflict may carry some weight with the director.

Interestingly, for this version of the Cooney script, the director has flip-flopped the generally-produced character traits of the two Smith wives. Barbara, usually played as a strident woman, will be the more motherly of the two, Mary the more severe. With these traits in mind, the director read me last night for the role of Mary; and should I get the role, my resume will get a familiar tweak.

In September, I played the part of Ruth Condomine in Blithe Spirit; but a year earlier, I had played Charles' first (and dead) wife, Elvira. Earning the role of Mary in this script (pardon my vagueness, but it is necessary to keep Googlers at bay) would parallel my having played John's other (and current) wife, Barbara in the original script to which this is the sequel. I'd think it was rare enough to have played each wife in a particular show by being cast twice and differently; but it may be rarer still to have managed the feat twice!

Inherit the Herring in the Net

It's official; I was not cast. However, I did get a lovely personal phone call from the director telling me that, in pairing couples, they decided to go another direction. He really enjoyed my read, he said, and I'd be a welcome addition to any show in that theatre. Though I'm disappointed not to get to work for him or with that script, I'm pleased to have made a good impression and to have earned my first callback from a monologue. Sometimes, you're just not right for the part. Onward....

Tonight Orrick will be auditioning for a Ray Cooney farce. Though I love a good Cooney, I will not be reading for the limited female roles in this one unless asked. Should Orrick be cast, though, I've suggested that I might be willing to Stage Manage -- as I did professionally for the show's American Premiere in 2002. It's a risk, but I'm drawn to the parallel.

In Nashville, it was a mistake to let my techie slip show. Actors are a dime a dozen but a good tech is hard to come by. Often in Nashville when I was the best tech available directors would avoid casting me. I'm wary of giving San Diego directors the same power, but there's only one way to know if stepping behind a stage here will be as detrimental to my future casting on it as it was in Nashville, and that discovery depends on Orrick's being cast.

Of course, should I agree and find later that I've teched myself right off the stage, the flip side of the equation is this: techs are needed and techs are paid. Having paid the rent at different times either by acting and by teching, I know that tech work is, for the most part, the better and more reliable income. If in the end I am no longer acting, at least I know I'll be eating!

But I get ahead of myself, don't I? We haven't even been to the audition yet and I've already finished the run, killed my acting career, and taken a job that hasn't been offered!

Welcome to my brain.

In other news, the actors who will be performing a one-night-only improv show on April Fools' Day met last night to discuss possible games to be played. A few were added and others removed from our potential lineup, but much of the improvisation was surprisingly good -- even the musical number that had many of us scared witless (or so we thought). There is much to be said for doing something that scares you every once in a while. A certain confidence comes from suriviv... succeeding.

Enough confidence to assure myself that no amount of tech work could kill the acting momentum I've built here? Well... let's not be silly.

Pucker Up

The kiss of death in a theatre callback, it seems, is an enthusiastic director telling you how wonderful your choices were, how great you are, and how hard you're making it for him to cast the show. Roughly translated it means: I didn't expect to enjoy your performance, I called in a friend to read for this part, and even if I like your reading better, I'm now obligated to cast her and you are out of luck.

So, though I'd be surprised and elated if I got a casting call today, I'm not holding my breath for it. With no other interesting shows on the horizon and a lot of free time ahead, my focus will turn to an actual (gasp!) job hunt.

I'm finding that, in this larger market, the effort required to find a job is somewhat greater than I'm used to. In smaller markets, jobs found me. Here, I've gotten no response from resumes, demos, and airchecks sent to agents and radio stations. Erm... what happened to my small pond?

But all is not lost: a town this size has plenty of restaurants.

Are you ready to order?

New and Improv'd

Okay, so it's been a little more than a week since my last post and the time has come to just write something. Got it. Here it is.

On Monday the 26th, I faced my demons and performed a monologue audition. Poor turnout that evening prompted additional auditions on Tuesday, during which actors would only be asked to cold read. Had I known, I might have waited to be among them, but as it was I had already earned my callback: my first from a monologue. The pride of that first, however, is probably all I'll have to show for the process after callbacks this evening. Sources close to the director (and a slip of the director's own tongue) suggest that the role I most want has been pre-cast, and that the week interim between auditions and this callback has been spent calling in actors who did not audition at all. Whether I will remain in consideration among those actors will be seen tonight.

Catching my breath after the dread monologue last Monday, I gave another audition that night at the playhouse where Orrick was reading for Inherit the Wind. Though really a vehicle for male actors, it does offer a few small female roles. I gave a good read in a weak field and went away fully expecting to be called back. Sure enough, I was.

In an e-mail, I was informed that the director was thrilled with his great cast and would be holding callbacks for support roles and townspeople the following week. These roles were described as "walk on parts that do not need a lot of rehearsing... if you want to start out in acting or feel that your not ready for a major part then this is your chance." Not ready for a major part? My chance? If, after 20-plus years on stage, I'm getting those offers now, my career is running in the wrong direction! My inner Diva joked with Orrick, hautily: "Did they not READ my resume?!? I've done Simon! I've done Cooney! I've won awards! Don't they know who I am?"

This is tongue in cheek, dahling. Please.

Perhaps I was too hasty -- it was a poor communique that didn't make clear where they were drawing the "supporting role" line -- but I declined the callback. Not that there's anything wrong with being the second Bible-thumper from the left, but I do have hopes of finding something somewhat meatier to play in the coming months. We'll see how that plan pans out this evening....

In yet another theatre, we have begun our rehearsals (if they can be called that) for the improv fund raiser that will be staged on April first. We met once to watch a tape of the previous year's performance, then met again to attempt the games (or structures) ourselves. Some games are right up my alley while others scare the daylights out of me, but we will have at least 3 more meetings in which to familiarize ourselves with the format before we see an audience.

To prepare, I've been searching the web for tips and pointers. Cutting and pasting into a Word document any valuable info that I ran across online, I finally ran across someone who had done the same thing for his own improv group and posted his results, with notes from performances, as a file ready for download. As the Improv Handbook is distributed in Beerware™, I owe Dave Hitt a refreshing beverage should I ever meet him in the real world. Thanks Dave!

Here's to the kind of theatre where you can't possibly know your lines and it's okay to bump into the furniture. Cheers!