It's been a long, long time. My "acting" career is about as lively as Stephen Hawking at a Rave. The past few years I've managed to paint with mistakes into a hopeless corner my dreams, goals and plans. I don't really know how to explain the cacophony of events that stepped forward to brandish themselves above all others. It happened. So be it.
I'm not going into great lengths here to explain why I've been stagnant for so long. The truth is that I'm not even sure anymore. However, my current plan is slowly forming and the first part of this revolves around the UPTA (United Professional Theatre Alliance) audtion I have in Memphis on February 5. I only hope for a few callbacks. I'm not anticipating getting cast in anything. I never assume anyone will give me work. I don't have that kind of luck. Hell, I only got into grad school because I was denied entrance into the general audition and placed into the "open call" auditions. It was a fluke they even interviewed me, and then I was wait listed. Only the misfortune (or more likely greater fortune of acceptance into a better school) of another did I get my foot in the door at Northern. So I don't have much hope.
Anyway, the point of this isn't to rant and rave about my shitty luck. No. This is about the Audition Process. Probably the single most humiliating experience an actor goes through. Repetitively. It's so awful an experience that I liken it to self immolation. Here's an example of that:
Am I being overly dramatic here? Well, probably. It's actually just shy of this example because unlike the monk who must go through this process only once, the actor must do this endlessly, like some psychotic Groundhog Day, where the suffering of the cause is ignored for the lack of commitment some pretentious ass observed, asking "can you do that again, only this time can you try it without the smoke? I want to FEEL the flame."
Yeah, they'd say that.
To understand the mind of an actor is to attempt to live on the razor's edge of sanity; a crippling grip around the throat of an empty desire to share with the world an art form so challenging it can only be entrusted to....Jennifer Aniston??
So, back to the audition. As I've been doing "research", attempting to find something new, something exciting to use as a monologe for this, I've stumbled upon some truly spectacular videos on the youtube. I mean, examples of acting so bad, so delightfully horrifying, that their purpose must solely be to build me up so I feel better about my abilities. Let me start off with this little gem. My friend (not really) Alex here is about to DESTROY some Shakespeare. If you hate the Bard, it's performances like this I'm sure you've come to expect.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!! I mean...wow. For starters, let's look at the background here, shall we? He's taken the time to hang up a sheet so he can be "the focus" of the room. Ok, good idea. Now, it may also help to zoom that camera in a bit tighter so we don't have see your dirty ass basement makeout couch and a shelf full of board games. I keep expecting his mom to come through with the laundry and applaud him (That's what mine would do) for his talent. Bad choice in motif Alex. Now, the piece. Clearly, and it really doesn't get any more clear than this, Alex has ZERO comprehension about what he is saying. In fact, it looks like he's struggling just to breathe. I'd say it's because he doesn't understand how the verse breaks, but it may also be the mold from that couch behind him. Either way, it really, detracts from his "Performance".
Ok, I don't want to beat him up too much. Let's look at this same piece, from different perspective, ok?
Two things strike me here: First, we have a shelf tastefully decorated in African tribal masks. I'm sure they were chosen as the best representations of comedy and drama to highlight this piece. But, did you notice that odd one? Just to left of center? Is that...?? Yep, it's President Obama. Right there surrounded by his "peeps". Now, we thought Alex had problems with his motif? Martece also has made some bad choices. I'm not really going to critique his performance for two reasons: a) I can't really understand him and b) what I do understand almost sounds songlike. Combined with the location and his cornrows, I feel like we're back in R Kelly's closet. I have no idea what's going on here. All I know is he is trying really, really hard and it's just not going well.
And, just for fun, one more time we'll see the same piece, but with a different spin.
Huh????
I don't know about you, but to me, this is the stuff of nightmares! HOW THE FUCK CAN YOU BE ANY CREEPIER??? STARE INTO THE CAMERA!!!!! Holy fuck did this give me the heeebie jeebies! Ok, so, Edmund doesn't suffer the same fates as our previous two, but wow..WOW did he take an unexpected fucking leap there or what?? I mean...if you know this play AT ALL you will recognize this as the prison cell scene where Orsino rapes Viola. NOT!!!! But it sure feels like that, doesn't it? I mean, all it needed was a little lip licking and a subtle wink and suddenly it's 1999 again and one of the worst scenes from Oz is about to transpire...in verse. AHHHHHHHHHHHH.......
Ok, so ultimately my point is that auditions suck. They suck for actors, but imagine sitting through an endless parade of these three, for five days, hoping to find just one that doesn't make you want to stab your eyes out with an eraser. This is not easy. This is art.
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