Inside the Actors Mind

*FIRST in a THREE-PART Series: If you've ever been curious about why actors go into show business or why a specific person is a specific character on a TV show...enter the mind of the wannabe: an actor who auditions.

T-minus-24 HOURS: "Oddly, she is much happier at her job than the rest of us." 
  Nailed it! A minute-ten and remembered every word.  Should I run it again just to be sure?    No, no, you're fine.  Need to fix our resume, though.  Glad I took the production dates off last time. 'I see it's been two years between shows for you'  Yeah, because my auditions were two years apart, thanks for asking!  I didn't need (insert name of large Equity theatre who later proved generous) anyway.

Tomorrow's a new day, a new company, and a familiar monologue!  Familiar to me.  I bet I've still got copies of my old pieces--best short play something-something, Cyranos' riff on his nose, Shakespeare's Much Ado about something-something.  (Looking through file folder) Holy Hanna!  I still have my novel excerpts.  My monologue class instructor told us to go for the unique pieces, don't limit yourself to play-scripts.  That Donald Westlake piece, The Ax, kicked ass!  Not like this one (he pulls 'vineyard' stationery sheet from folder).  My writing: "You cannot be the sun in my life. I already have a son!"  Unique, one of a kind, crap.
    At least I don't have to worry about getting a new headshot.  Same handsome devil you were five, uh, ten--oh hell, you were born handsome!  Of course, if anyone asks me to grow a beard or mustache for a role, I may need to do Rogaine facials.

T-minus-6 HOURS: Dang! Almost forgot to 'MapQuest' my route to the theatre.

T-minus 5 HOURS: Dial-up sucks.  'Sorry, I can't come in today, Mrs. Director, my Internet connection tanked and my map wouldn't print and when it did my dog ate it.  Too depressed now. Anyhoo, can I have the part?'

T-minus 2 hours: Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.
T-minus 1 hour: (within moving car) "Rubber baby buggy bumpers bouncing by Biscayne Bay, rubber baby..."

T-minus 30 minutes: (at theatre lobby) "Hello, I've got a 3:30 appointment.// Speller.// No, I've never heard that (inane) joke before.  ha ha."
  (Now practicing silently, pacing by Men's bathroom) Her name is Martha.  Our biggest fear is that she will...

T-minus 2 minutes: Should I pee? No, I'm next up.  It's been a while, though...USE IT! Use that energy, that urgency!  Olivier wouldn't pee for days before an opening night...I think.  He's dead, right?

T-minus 30 seconds: "Hello, my name is Mike and I'll be doing..."  Good, no redundant synopsis, no playwright biography--just show, don't tell.

GO Time: "Her name is Martha..."  Don't look at them! Basic stuff, meathead.  Look past them.  Make eye contact with that chair. That chair--or is it the one to the left?  NO, THAT chair, dammit, that chair is your psychiatrist!
  "...like the rest of us, he tries to pretend..."  Did the director just smile?  I think she did.  God, I hope--AVERT YOUR EYES! Jeez, if you look at her, you won't get the job.  Must pee soon.  Don't bounce your leg, they'll know you've gotta go.  This character's not ready to pee, this guy's mad and scared and what has he 'discovered'? // That. Yeahhh.  That felt good.
  "Thank you."

T-plus 1 minute: (in Men's bathroom) "Was my fly down the whole time?! Ohhhh--"

*THANKS to all my college and private instructors, myriad directors, and Michael Shurtleff for the continuous education and enjoyment I get from this work.

CURTAIN