Confessions of a G-List Actress: Mary, Mary Quite Contrary.
~Acting is not about being someone different. It's finding the similarity in what is apparently different, then finding myself in there.
Meryl Streep
I will start with this. Ladies, never go to meet a strange director without checking them out first. This is how crazy people sell us into the sex trade, rape and or murder us. Make lots of large male friends who look threatening and ask them politely to drive with you to meet said "directors." Or be well armed. That being said...
I met a new director this past Saturday at 11pm in Indian Beach, NC. Talented one too. How I found myself there at such an unholy hour after a work week of well over 50 hours is quite amusing. The humor of driving such a distance is not lost on me.
I found a part on The Southern Casting Call. I saw the words Leading Lady and figured, well, what the heck. I will send them a headshot, resume, and reel and ask if they are paying. No harm in that. They were paying for gasoline. Normally to this I say, well, call me when you get a project with funding. But something nagged at me a bit and when the script was offered I said, why not? Worst I can say is no. I will be quite honest, a 4 hour drive and only gas/food/lodging being provided is not a good seller for me. Most of the time these days I am broke or have not time so I am already thinking the words to politely decline as the script is being sent.
I open the file...it would be rude not to at least give it a look...and begin reading. It's good. Really good. I am a big fan of sad films and this is filled with all the depression that we as actors kinda hope for.
Not paying and shoots over two days. Well, let me see what is going on. Little bit of emailing back and forth and I will say I am hooked on the idea. No lines in the script, all improvisation, simple idea, great for a reel since the only female role is also the main role. You're killing me smalls. It's shooting over a weekend and it's a weekend before I am taking 3 days off. I can't afford a full week. Well let me just...
Oh wait, you can't shoot that weekend. Huh. Too bad. No time in February and don't want to wait til March you say. Well the next day I have off is...
So Jan 18th, at 6pm, I find myself driving the distance to Indian Beach, NC. We are shooting this thing in 24 hours. I have Skyped with Kyle, the director, and he seems like someone I could hang with on my one day off that week. It's late. I woke up at 6:45 am. I have probably had 25 hours sleep in the past seven days, but I have my food, my caffeine, and my a/c is on full blast with loud music running. I am not going to fall asleep at this point. Gotta film! I find the condo. It's a beautiful place on the beach. Too bad it's freezing cold. Even worse, too bad I have to get in the water tomorrow.
The director and his camera man are walking out to grab pieces of a dog crate. Yes, there is a dog in the film. Her name is Jersey and she is very sweet. I am taken upstairs to a very nice room with a HUGE bed and allowed to change into some of my clothes as a costume. The director's girlfriend does my makeup. It looks good.
In the living room, on a luggage cart, is the camera. It looks like a big metallic grey box with a lens a a monitor and sony stamped on the side. I honestly don't know what the metal box is for, I assume protection of the equipment. I watch on the screen as they check the view. The image on screen is breathtaking, and complete with filter. Very cinematic.
The first scene is a lot of action. Pour wine, surf internet, text guy, go to couch, text again, take picture, eww, don't like picture, go to kitchen, take another picture, send that, go back to couch, turn off kitchen light as you go, wait, text again, wait, call, he doesn't answer. A lot of action to put into two minutes. The first few takes he cues me as to when he wants me to change actions. It looks fine on every take. The final take someone brings up just letting me do the action and see how it works. I start the action and go through the whole thing and on my final action it clocks in at just over two minutes. Feeling good.
Most of these shots are in a few takes, if there are more than one. I try to make a different choice every time, but sometimes, there are only so many way to turn on a light. But I am still feeling good as the hours creep away and soon I find myself in the final of three scenes for the night at 5am. It is a good thing too. The sleep is trying to take over. We have only three scenes to shoot girl. You can stay awake. I hate to admit this, but now the need to sleep has become pressing. What do they want me to do? Lay in bed and pretend to sleep.
At 10am I wake up to find no one around me. I had actually fallen asleep. They took several shots around me and then called it a night. They were dragging pretty hard as well. I could only laugh and apologize. You could have woken me. They understood. Mortification is still present but what is done is done.
Interesting fact about myself. If I am tired enough, and get still too long, I can fall asleep anywhere. ANYWHERE. I have fallen asleep on a cutting table, under a table, in a freezer, on a kitchen counter, in a wheelie chair, on a fall pad in a small room when a cannon was going off. It's a really special gift, and kind of annoying when you only have so many shots left and exhaustion is setting in.
At 10:30 everyone else woke up and at 11 we were back to filming.
We had to use people on the crew to double as the men in my life. The director played my dead husband in a few photographs. Kyle is really photogenic. Just throwing that out there.
Next scene! Outside. In the cold. I have layered myself so I don't have to go inside to change outfits in between the takes of my walking along the beach, and me getting into the freezing water. The walking was easy. Until my fingers started going numb. I am walking a dog during most of these shots, and smoking with my free hand. Just to reiterate, you don't know cold until you are on a beach in the winter and that cold wet air is hitting you. Holy Cow! We throw an item or two so the dog will jerk me along.
Now my least favorite shot. I have to jerk the dog in and pretend to beat the poor thing. Still sorry about that Jersey Dog. To fake it I turn my back to the camera and beat the side of my leg. In the cold, I hit the side of my leg so hard I bruise myself and hurt my hands. We only do one take of the beating. Now this poor animal is terrified of me. And I still have to do the same motion indoors one more time.
Directors love the shot of the girl laying next to the ocean and the ocean waves rush over her, waking her up. This did not happen with me. I lay down, "drunk," and curled up tightly in the cold, wet, sand. The water was not going to get anywhere near me. So I stood up and walked into the ocean until I knew a wave was going to hit me. I got in position and it hit me so fast I had no time to react. Oh the cold. New version of freezing to death. We ended up just having me lie in the sand and when a wave got close enough, I freaked out.
Some little girls down the beach watched and were laughing at me in my ridiculousness. On the way back in I waved. They giggled at me.
Inside, dripping in salt water and sand, I waited for them to set a camera up next to a toilet.
A side note. In any given situation I really will fight for the hardcore acting award. Give me the chance and I will run with Jared Leto and Meryl Streep. Who wants to give me that shot?
The next shot is me retching into a toilet. Toilets, even clean ones, don't smell good. I leaned my head over the toilet and began to "vomit." Fake vomit. nearly becomes real vomit one or twice. I gag, I spit, lean back against the wall, and swallow hard. Somehow, during my gagging, I actually wretched so hard I pulled a muscle of my tongue in the back of my throat. It now hurts when I swallow.
We shoot the rest of the scenes during the day, me running after a guy with a knife. Beating the poor dog again. Kicking the dog out. Looming menacingly over the dog.
Now there is a break to shower the saltwater and "ick" off my body. I take a mini-nap in the shower. Get out, change into my might clothes, and prep to go downstairs and cry. Makeup is done, we are three shoots away from done, and all of them are of me crying. The first two shots are great and you can't see me cry due to the distance. The tears come anyways. Very quick shots and we are done.
Now to drive to a bar and then find a car wash late at night.
I walk into the bar and actually am offered a drink by two men. I politely decline and shoot my scene.
Now my favorite part, the car wash. It was, by far, the best thing. We found a small car wash 3 minutes away. I sat in my car, building up the necessary emotion. Then I sat in the car and bawled like I hadn't in a long time. I don't know if it was two minutes, or five minutes, but that cry felt like the greatest release in the world. When the director called cut, I asked over and over again if I needed to do it again. I craved the moment in time. The moment of release. So much adrenaline.
I watched the moment and when he called cut and I turned to talk to Kyle, my nose was snotty and my makeup was everywhere. Wow I was a sight. But that shot was incredible.
I drove back and got into Raleigh to stay in a friendly spot until the morning. It was around 1:00am when I got in. Adrenaline means little sleep.
I wake up after 4 hours of sleep and drive to the old 9-5. Work until around 3:30 on MLK day and drive home to change so I can film the Dr Who Film. By the way it's fantastic! It goes splendidly.
Thank goodness I was allowed to sleep the next day.
Meryl Streep
I will start with this. Ladies, never go to meet a strange director without checking them out first. This is how crazy people sell us into the sex trade, rape and or murder us. Make lots of large male friends who look threatening and ask them politely to drive with you to meet said "directors." Or be well armed. That being said...
I met a new director this past Saturday at 11pm in Indian Beach, NC. Talented one too. How I found myself there at such an unholy hour after a work week of well over 50 hours is quite amusing. The humor of driving such a distance is not lost on me.
I found a part on The Southern Casting Call. I saw the words Leading Lady and figured, well, what the heck. I will send them a headshot, resume, and reel and ask if they are paying. No harm in that. They were paying for gasoline. Normally to this I say, well, call me when you get a project with funding. But something nagged at me a bit and when the script was offered I said, why not? Worst I can say is no. I will be quite honest, a 4 hour drive and only gas/food/lodging being provided is not a good seller for me. Most of the time these days I am broke or have not time so I am already thinking the words to politely decline as the script is being sent.
I open the file...it would be rude not to at least give it a look...and begin reading. It's good. Really good. I am a big fan of sad films and this is filled with all the depression that we as actors kinda hope for.
Not paying and shoots over two days. Well, let me see what is going on. Little bit of emailing back and forth and I will say I am hooked on the idea. No lines in the script, all improvisation, simple idea, great for a reel since the only female role is also the main role. You're killing me smalls. It's shooting over a weekend and it's a weekend before I am taking 3 days off. I can't afford a full week. Well let me just...
Oh wait, you can't shoot that weekend. Huh. Too bad. No time in February and don't want to wait til March you say. Well the next day I have off is...
So Jan 18th, at 6pm, I find myself driving the distance to Indian Beach, NC. We are shooting this thing in 24 hours. I have Skyped with Kyle, the director, and he seems like someone I could hang with on my one day off that week. It's late. I woke up at 6:45 am. I have probably had 25 hours sleep in the past seven days, but I have my food, my caffeine, and my a/c is on full blast with loud music running. I am not going to fall asleep at this point. Gotta film! I find the condo. It's a beautiful place on the beach. Too bad it's freezing cold. Even worse, too bad I have to get in the water tomorrow.
The director and his camera man are walking out to grab pieces of a dog crate. Yes, there is a dog in the film. Her name is Jersey and she is very sweet. I am taken upstairs to a very nice room with a HUGE bed and allowed to change into some of my clothes as a costume. The director's girlfriend does my makeup. It looks good.
In the living room, on a luggage cart, is the camera. It looks like a big metallic grey box with a lens a a monitor and sony stamped on the side. I honestly don't know what the metal box is for, I assume protection of the equipment. I watch on the screen as they check the view. The image on screen is breathtaking, and complete with filter. Very cinematic.
The first scene is a lot of action. Pour wine, surf internet, text guy, go to couch, text again, take picture, eww, don't like picture, go to kitchen, take another picture, send that, go back to couch, turn off kitchen light as you go, wait, text again, wait, call, he doesn't answer. A lot of action to put into two minutes. The first few takes he cues me as to when he wants me to change actions. It looks fine on every take. The final take someone brings up just letting me do the action and see how it works. I start the action and go through the whole thing and on my final action it clocks in at just over two minutes. Feeling good.
Most of these shots are in a few takes, if there are more than one. I try to make a different choice every time, but sometimes, there are only so many way to turn on a light. But I am still feeling good as the hours creep away and soon I find myself in the final of three scenes for the night at 5am. It is a good thing too. The sleep is trying to take over. We have only three scenes to shoot girl. You can stay awake. I hate to admit this, but now the need to sleep has become pressing. What do they want me to do? Lay in bed and pretend to sleep.
At 10am I wake up to find no one around me. I had actually fallen asleep. They took several shots around me and then called it a night. They were dragging pretty hard as well. I could only laugh and apologize. You could have woken me. They understood. Mortification is still present but what is done is done.
Interesting fact about myself. If I am tired enough, and get still too long, I can fall asleep anywhere. ANYWHERE. I have fallen asleep on a cutting table, under a table, in a freezer, on a kitchen counter, in a wheelie chair, on a fall pad in a small room when a cannon was going off. It's a really special gift, and kind of annoying when you only have so many shots left and exhaustion is setting in.
At 10:30 everyone else woke up and at 11 we were back to filming.
We had to use people on the crew to double as the men in my life. The director played my dead husband in a few photographs. Kyle is really photogenic. Just throwing that out there.
Next scene! Outside. In the cold. I have layered myself so I don't have to go inside to change outfits in between the takes of my walking along the beach, and me getting into the freezing water. The walking was easy. Until my fingers started going numb. I am walking a dog during most of these shots, and smoking with my free hand. Just to reiterate, you don't know cold until you are on a beach in the winter and that cold wet air is hitting you. Holy Cow! We throw an item or two so the dog will jerk me along.
Now my least favorite shot. I have to jerk the dog in and pretend to beat the poor thing. Still sorry about that Jersey Dog. To fake it I turn my back to the camera and beat the side of my leg. In the cold, I hit the side of my leg so hard I bruise myself and hurt my hands. We only do one take of the beating. Now this poor animal is terrified of me. And I still have to do the same motion indoors one more time.
Directors love the shot of the girl laying next to the ocean and the ocean waves rush over her, waking her up. This did not happen with me. I lay down, "drunk," and curled up tightly in the cold, wet, sand. The water was not going to get anywhere near me. So I stood up and walked into the ocean until I knew a wave was going to hit me. I got in position and it hit me so fast I had no time to react. Oh the cold. New version of freezing to death. We ended up just having me lie in the sand and when a wave got close enough, I freaked out.
Some little girls down the beach watched and were laughing at me in my ridiculousness. On the way back in I waved. They giggled at me.
Inside, dripping in salt water and sand, I waited for them to set a camera up next to a toilet.
A side note. In any given situation I really will fight for the hardcore acting award. Give me the chance and I will run with Jared Leto and Meryl Streep. Who wants to give me that shot?
The next shot is me retching into a toilet. Toilets, even clean ones, don't smell good. I leaned my head over the toilet and began to "vomit." Fake vomit. nearly becomes real vomit one or twice. I gag, I spit, lean back against the wall, and swallow hard. Somehow, during my gagging, I actually wretched so hard I pulled a muscle of my tongue in the back of my throat. It now hurts when I swallow.
We shoot the rest of the scenes during the day, me running after a guy with a knife. Beating the poor dog again. Kicking the dog out. Looming menacingly over the dog.
Now there is a break to shower the saltwater and "ick" off my body. I take a mini-nap in the shower. Get out, change into my might clothes, and prep to go downstairs and cry. Makeup is done, we are three shoots away from done, and all of them are of me crying. The first two shots are great and you can't see me cry due to the distance. The tears come anyways. Very quick shots and we are done.
Now to drive to a bar and then find a car wash late at night.
I walk into the bar and actually am offered a drink by two men. I politely decline and shoot my scene.
Now my favorite part, the car wash. It was, by far, the best thing. We found a small car wash 3 minutes away. I sat in my car, building up the necessary emotion. Then I sat in the car and bawled like I hadn't in a long time. I don't know if it was two minutes, or five minutes, but that cry felt like the greatest release in the world. When the director called cut, I asked over and over again if I needed to do it again. I craved the moment in time. The moment of release. So much adrenaline.
I watched the moment and when he called cut and I turned to talk to Kyle, my nose was snotty and my makeup was everywhere. Wow I was a sight. But that shot was incredible.
I drove back and got into Raleigh to stay in a friendly spot until the morning. It was around 1:00am when I got in. Adrenaline means little sleep.
I wake up after 4 hours of sleep and drive to the old 9-5. Work until around 3:30 on MLK day and drive home to change so I can film the Dr Who Film. By the way it's fantastic! It goes splendidly.
Thank goodness I was allowed to sleep the next day.
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