HEARTLAND fan in Shondaland?

I had a weird deja vu moment last night watching Grey’s Anatomy. One of the plots was about a bunch of people donating kidneys to complete strangers so that their loved ones, with whom they didn’t match as donors, could receive kidneys from the recipients’ loved ones. Got that?

I did. As soon as Bailey started explaining the complicated procedure, I said, “It’s called domino transplants,” minutes before Izzie identified it as such. No, I’m not a doctor. I knew because last year, I guest-starred on a TNT show called Heartland (starring Treat Williams and Kari Matchett) in an episode that dealt with this exact thing. I played one of the donors, Mrs. Chan. Last night, one of the donors was named Mrs. Chen. At one point, my character bailed, putting the whole procedure into jeopardy. Last night, one of the wives backed out, too, until Bailey changed the woman’s mind.

When Chief Webber called this procedure “historic,” I wanted to say, “It was done a year ago by a basic cable show!”

I guess there really are only 7 original ideas in Hollywood.

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Creative Excuses for Being Late to an Audition

Here in L.A., auditions always seem to happen at 5 p.m. in the location that’s farthest away from you. If you live in Santa Monica, the appointment will be in Woodland Hills, which will take about 3 hours on the 405. If you live in Encino, you’ll need to go to Westwood, which will take 3 days. That’s just the way it works.

So often, actors are late to their appointments. The usual excuse is “Traffic was really bad/There was an accident” but here are the top ten most creative ones I’ve heard over the years:

1. I was in jail.
2. I was kidnapped by my boyfriend and driven to the desert and couldn’t get back until now.
3. My roommate choked me last night so it’s still hard for me to talk.
4. I quit my nanny job and I have no car ’cause my employers had been letting me use theirs so I’ve been walking all night to get here.
5. I was halfway here when I realized I forgot to put on underwear and had to turn around.
6. I have no idea what time my appointment was or why I’m here. What am I auditioning for?
7. I’m on my 45th day of a 48-day fast and it’s just been tough.
8. My shift at the Hustler casino didn’t end until four this morning.
9. Don’t you know who I am?
10. I took the wrong ramp and almost ended up in Mexico.

I’m a lemur, she’s a lemur…

After I moved to L.A. many years ago, I was looking for a job when I saw an interesting ad in the Drama-Logue, a now-defunct trade paper for actors which contained casting notices.

A production company was looking for petite actors (under 5′5″) to don costumes and play lemurs in a movie. I had no idea what a lemur was but the pay caught my eye: $250 a day for two months. That’s 5 grand a month! Ten thousand total! Plus, the movie would be shot in some exotic jungle location so I’d get to travel and a per diem and put up in a hotel. It’d be like taking an all-expenses vacation while getting paid!

I showed the ad to my roommate Susan (who also fit the height requirement) and she wanted to audition, too. The open call was in a week and we had to show up and “behave like lemurs.” Since neither of us knew what that entailed, we headed to the L.A. Zoo for research.

After getting lost and wandering through the reptile and arachnid areas, we finally found our lemurs. There was a pair sitting on a tree branch looking out at all the people looking in. They had haunting eyes–indignant yet sad. 

“Come on, do something,” Susan said.

They didn’t move.

“How are we going to know what they do if they just sit there?” I wondered.

One lemur scratched the other then they huddled together, as though to console each other.

After watching the lemurs do nothing for about 20 minutes, Sus and I called it a day. The audition would be easy; lemurs didn’t do anything.

Day of the call, Sus and I went to the office. When they called my name, I asked if Sus and I could audition together since lemurs are more interesting in pairs (see how I slipped in my zoo research there?). Once in the room, we squatted on the floor and squat-walked around a little but mostly just sat there staring at the producers. 

“Do something,” the older male producer said in a British accent. Funny–that’s what Susan had said to the lemurs.

“Um, this is what they do, lots of sitting and lots of staring,” I said.

The female producer spoke up. “Well, we need to see more. Can you roll around or something?”

I thought, What am I, a monkey now? But then I remembered the 5 grand a month.

I did a forward roll, the kind you did in kindergarten tumbling sessions. I didn’t want to randomly roll around on the ground because I had gotten the impression lemurs weren’t that freewheeling and easygoing, at least not the ones at the zoo. I mimed scratching myself a little then did another dainty roll. Sus was doing pretty much the same. The producers eventually thanked us and we left, our legs aching from squatting.

A week passed and neither of us got a call. I was so bummed I wasn’t selected to be a lemur. After seeing them at the zoo, I had felt I could portray them with some authenticity and dignity–well, as much as could be mustered while wearing a furry suit. Now, I wouldn’t get the chance.

Much later I found out the movie never got made so who knows, I could’ve been a contender for Lemur #1. But by that point, I had resigned myself to playing only humans. Which I can do quite convincingly, even without a forward roll.

Things NOT to do in an audition

I’ve been lucky enough to have been used as a reader in many casting sessions. This means I’m not actually auditioning for a project but I’ve been hired by the casting director to read lines with actors who are. I love sitting on the other side of the table, watching actors come in, seeing the things they do and finding out what works in the room and what doesn’t.

The good things are typical in most job interviews: be courteous and confident, show up on time, dress appropriately, etc. But over the years, I’ve been subjected to some strange behavior so I’d like to share some pointers on what not to do. If you’re an actor, maybe this will help you get more callbacks. If you’re not, perhaps this will just give you a laugh.

1. Don’t kick the reader. “What’s that?” you say. “People kick you?” The answer is yes, multiple times. In this one scene, the actress was simply trying to get my character’s attention. So she kicked me. Hard. Then the director asked her to redo the scene and she kicked me again. Harder. The director asked her to do the scene a third time and…well, you get the idea. I guess some casting directors don’t like actors physically assaulting their readers because she didn’t get the part. But I did get some X-rays to make sure nothing was broken.
2. Don’t try to make out with the reader, even if the scene calls for it. In one scene, a man was supposed to inject my character with a drug that temporarily paralyzed her so that he could do inappropriate things to her. This man clutched me to him in a death grip and did the whole scene practically on top of me, though I remained seated in a chair. I was supposed to be paralyzed so I didn’t push him away but boy, was it gross. The director thought so, too.
3. If you pass gas, loudly, don’t pretend it didn’t happen. It’s a little embarrassing but just acknowledge it, laugh about it and move on (or start the scene over, if need be). If anything, it will release any tension or nerves you might have and could improve your reading.
4. Don’t bring in props. If you do, at least make them simple. An actor once brought in his cordless phone from home so he could do a scene where he talks on the phone. He pulled it out and began dialing. Problem was, the phone emitted loud beeps in protest every time he dialed. He tried repeatedly, but the beeps would not stop. The producer and director were about to throw something at the actor just to shut the beeps up. The actor finally said, “The handset wouldn’t let me dial because I’m too far away from the base.” Hey guy, how about using your cell phone or just faking the dialing?
5. Don’t kiss ass. This one actor came in with a collage of pictures of every movie poster of every project the casting director had ever worked on. That’s just scary and stalker-ish.
6. Ladies, don’t forget to wear underwear, especially if you’re wearing something low-cut or short. It’s unhygienic for other actors who use the chair after you.
7. Don’t send naked pictures of yourself to casting offices, either, unless you’re sure they’re casting a porno.
8. Don’t be rude to anyone in the casting office. An actress once yelled at a young man in the front office. Moments later, I ushered her into the audition room and she was all smiles. Until she saw the director behind the table. He was the same young man she’d yelled at; he’d just stepped outside to make a phone call.
9. Don’t use your audition as your prep time. An actor came in and asked for a few minutes to get into character. He then proceeded to put on his headphones, go in the corner, shadow box, do push-ups, jog in place, had a snack, change clothes and run through his lines for about 5 minutes before saying he was ready to start. Do that at home or in the hallway, please.
10. Don’t take a bite of the casting director’s lunch without asking permission. Better yet, don’t do it at all.
11. For your headshot, don’t pose with gargoyles, giant balls or in a shopping cart. OK, that’s not something you technically do during an audition but if you’d like to get one, don’t do it.

The thing is–crazy antics don’t help you get the job. Just show up, act, then leave. If you’re right for the role, you’ll get it. If not, at least there’s a chance that casting office will call you in again for something else.

Why I’m Always Mistaken for an Extra

Every time I do a movie or TV show, a production assistant (P.A.) will inevitably assume I’m an extra. Sometimes this happens right away when I first report for work, sometimes it happens after I’ve been on set for a week. Other background artists will also immediately embrace me as one of their own. I have no problem with any of this; I’m simply puzzled by why it happens.

I was doing a TV movie many years ago. After I checked in, I went to craft services to get some breakfast. A P.A. will usually do this for “talent” (actors) so we can focus on getting into costume and/or learning our lines but I like to do it myself since I’m picky about how I want my eggs (whites only, scrambled with mushrooms and peppers, doused in Tabasco) and bagel (dry, slightly toasted).

As I approached the table, a P.A. came up to me. “Hi, extras eat over there,” he said, pointing to an area across the parking lot. I said, “Okay” then proceeded to pick up a plate. He blocked me and said, “The food is exactly the same.” I said, “All right,” and attempted to reach around him for some home fries. I didn’t know why he was going on about the extras’ food.

Then he said, “You are supposed to eat over there. Only principals (actors with lines) are allowed here.” Wait, what?

I explained I wasn’t an extra and he apologized profusely. I wanted to ask why he assumed that but my eggs were calling.

Another time, I’d been working on a TV show for a week when I arrived early on set so I could leisurely enjoy my breakfast. It’s no fun having to cram down an egg burrito in the makeup chair while someone’s spewing hairspray all over it. It’s also hard to eat when you can’t open your mouth while the makeup artist applies lipstick on you. So, on this day, even though my call time wasn’t until 7:30 a.m., I got there at 7:00. Hoo whee, I was gonna eat my pancakes in peace.

I was sitting in the tent where meals were held when a P.A. named Josh came in with his bullhorn. “All extras please get into costume now!” (Yeeks, bullhorns do not go well with 7 in the morning.) A bunch of people got up and stumbled out, bleary-eyed and clutching their styrofoam cups of coffee. Knowing I still had fifteen minutes before I had to get to hair and makeup, I sat back and savored my super fresh orange juice which I’d just squeezed myself.

Until Josh came over and stood over me.

“You need to get into costume now.”

“No, I don’t. I have fifteen minutes left.”

“You’re actually fifteen minutes late.”

Here’s the thing–Josh and I had been goofing around between takes for the past week, busting each other’s chops for fun. I assumed he was playing.

“My call’s at 7:30. I’m early.”

“Your call was at 7:00.”

“Josh, stop bugging me.”

“What extras agency are you from?”

Hold the phone. He really didn’t know who I was?

“Hey, it’s me, Elyse.”

He looked at me for a moment then recognition dawned on him. “Oh, man, I’m SO sorry! I didn’t recognize you out of costume! Can I get you anything? A coffee? Danish?”

“No, thanks. I just wanna finish my breakfast then I’ll be over in fifteen.”

“Again, I’m SO sorry! Let me know if you need anything.” Josh scampered out, bullhorn hanging limply by his side.

There have been many more similar incidents on different sets. Sometimes I’d just sit and eat with the extras because it’s easier and hey, the food is supposedly the same. Protesting too loudly that I’m not one of them might make background actors think I feel I’m better than they. Which I don’t.

But I did wonder about the constant confusion so I finally said something to my friend Susan. Is it because I don’t show up looking Charlize-Theron glamorous? Why would I? Actors get free hair and makeup on set; no one shows up with a blowout and lipstick. Many actors arrive looking homeless (unshaven, unwashed) until the magic of hair and makeup transforms us into bright, shiny people (probably why Josh hadn’t recognized me).

Susan said, “I don’t think it’s the way you look but the way you carry yourself. How many actors insist on getting their own food or show up early? P.A.s are probably so used to diva behavior from principals that if you act normal, they assume you’re an extra.”

Wow. All these years, I’d never looked at it that way. In one fell swoop, my friend succeeded in making me feel great about being asked repeatedly to eat at a “different table,” being rushed through meals and hustled to cramped holding areas with uncomfortable folding chairs that cause back injuries. I don’t mind now if they treat me badly because really, it’s just a compliment.