Jean's Big Ass Blog!

Blog Entry #4

TODAY'S BIG ASS-FFIRMATION!

However, today THIS is exactly how I felt.   You see, early yesterday I got a request to audition for a hilarious play at a local theater. The part is deliciously wicked and touching, and the Broadway production got rave reviews across the board. I had nothing during the day, so I read the play and went to the audition last 

  night at 8:45 pm. 

Well, the director loved me. The artistic director loved me. Hell, even I loved me!  I felt like a new woman. I felt perfect for the part. I felt alive. I felt funny (good funny, not "why is the room spinning" funny) I felt THIN! (psychologically speaking)

Now don't misunderstand, it isn't just the call that made me so happy, it was the loving, sage, brilliant advice that I got from my dear friend, Tom, an actor who I trust with all my heart. I called him after I got the call to audition. He worked under the same director in his last production.

Tom knows how I've been longing for a juicy role. It's been a while for me, but as he said, "we all have our down phases".  I've been in a rather down phase where theatre roles are concerned for about 2 years. I usually get to do  1 or 2 plays per year. The past 2 years I've been the 1st runner up on a number of auditions. No flowers. No sash. No kiss from Donald Trump. (I could live without that icky moment forever, by the way!)

Is it because I'm an Equity actor and there are not as many contracts out there for women? Sure, but in the mind of an aging, "plus sized" actor, it's because "I'm too fat!" or "I screwed up my last audition and now they hate me!" or "I'm too fat!"  Hmm. I already said, that didn't I? Yeah, that's because when you're fat, you're certain that's the real reason you weren't cast. It's a mess but it's the truth. If you are an actor reading this (ANY actor of ANY size) you know what I'm talking about.

Every actor is sure they are too fat at any given time in their career. When you actually ARE fat, it's a double whammy because when you walk into an audition, you and everyone there is wondering the same thing - "Is this character's size going to matter in this production?"  I promise you that the actor in the room is far more worried about that than anyone else. The director will rarely take the chance on you unless the role is described as "fat", "large", "big" or some other variation on that theme.

In 2007, I was cast in a great role in a TV miniseries, The Kill Point, starring John Leguizamo. I was thrilled, but each time my character was written into a scene, she was described in some mean, degrading manner : "the rotund Mrs. Sabian enters the room" and "the broad-sided Sabian woman begins to cry" there were several scenes where my character, her husband and child were introduced that way.  I had to read these heartless slams while trying to maintain my confidence at 3 auditions. Huge Mrs. Sabisn was cut before I ever got the contract. To be honest, I was just a little glad. I didn't want to be the "Side of Beef Sabian", no matter how much exposure, pay or residuals I'd receive. That's the part that really hurt though. Residuals are the bread and butter for any actor to survive. They come in handy during those very dry seasons.

A few years later, I was blessed with a smaller role in a TV series; Detroit 187, starring Michael Imperioli. As you can see, I was the fat, Mexican Construction Co. owner, Elena Liriano. I took the role. At least she wasn't described by her size. It helped. And so do the residuals.

Actors are masters of self-sabotaging, self-loathing and self-conscious behavior.  And those are just our happy thoughts on any given day! However, on really good days, a gifted actor stays open, curious and just vulnerable enough to deliver honest work. After that, it's out of our hands. 

Tom reminded me - "don't try to be the funniest person in the room before and after the audition! Just do the great job you are capable of, smile, shake their hands and leave! Too much enthusiasm can look desperate. You are a gorgeous woman. Don't think about size, age, your hair or what you're wearing! Go in there and knock their socks off!"  

Boy did he nail me on that one. I'm forever the 7 year old, tap dancing on the coffee table for grandma. Or any other human being who will notice.  LIKE ME! LIKE ME!! Fasten your seat belts while I MAKE YOU LIKE ME!!  It's exhausting. It's pointless. And I'm beginning to seriously question the legitimacy of anyone who would fall for that song and dance.

That reminds me: Ever hear the saying, Give me a child until he is 7 and I will give you the man? It's true. If you ever get a chance, look at the PBS series, 7 UP. It's a fascinating documentary that chronicles the lives of 14 kids, from "startlingly different backgrounds", every 7 years from the age of 7 to present day. It was produced and shot in England, beginning in 1964. I first saw the series about 20 years ago. Once you see these kids, you'll never forget them. A good part of each series is on YouTube. The latest one is 56 UP.  Here is Part 1 of 7 UP  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ngSGIjwwc4U

Anyhow, It's very comforting to know that there is someone out there who knows me that well. Tom really does. He's a gift to me. He shared a number of other observations about how I go about dealing with disappointment, and again, he was dead on. I hope that you, whoever you are, are fortunate enough to have a friend like him. You can't have him, though. He's taken by me and select few other artists who he is generous enough to lend his friendship.

So, I suppose that today's blog post is a loving thank you note to him for giving me an insight into myself with the grace to know just how to deliver it - with unbridled love and respect.

He's on my side. Today, I realized how seldom I'd get to say that about anyone these days.

After the audition, I took a route home that went through my old neighborhood. I drove passed the duplex I lived in for 15 years. My dad was my next door neighbor there for about 6 years or so before he died. I've driven by there many times before over the past 12 years. I knew I would feel melancholy but this time I welled up just as I started to turn the corner. The snow was glistening, it was so quiet and beautiful. Every home looked exactly the same. It's a very sweet little street. It's short and shaped like a backward J, making it all the more quaint.  

It's astonishing how a familiar sight, smell or sound can conjure so much emotion, so instantly.

I'm glad I went. I said hello to the spirits holding the keys to those drafty old houses...along with some great memories.

Then I passed the house you see below. It always makes me smile. It's also my goal for the rest of my life... bright and shining PEACE.

If I could just figure out how to steal it without getting caught or breaking a hip.