Apparently I’m second best.
Recently I’ve had a spate of auditions and recalls. For those smart enough not to be involved in “showbiz” (I write that knowing how knobbish I sound) quite often you will have to audition for something a few times to make sure you are absolutely right for the job (and also so that every Tom,Dick and Harry vaguely affiliated with the production can judge you.) I find it grossly painful going for recalls because I start to imagine that I actually have the job. I think about who else might be on the production, what aseycontacts I might make and, of course, what I will spend the money on! After the recall I stalk any and all hashtags that may be associated with the job and the Facebook/Twitter/Instagram accounts of anyone who works for the casting company, agencies,production companies etc etc. One hundred percent, certified lunatic behaviour.
Most of the time you never know when the job is cast or who got the part or why you didn’t. (Harrowing) Last week however, one angelic casting director went beyond the norm and actually called me to let me off my pencil- AKA crush my dreams. Apparently I was too Home & Garden magazine whereas they were looking for more Argos catalogue. Ordinarily a lovely compliment, but I can not tell you how much I would rather be considered a chav and pocket the 4 Grand!
The worst thing about all this actor angst, though, is that I have started roping my family into this twisted world too! If a breakdown comes in asking for a wife, mum, or dog owner, for example, I’m pumped! You see, it’s a little outside of the female, brunette, early 30’s brief so I convince myself that I’m in! I have dragged my poor (shy) husband to many a casting, hideously against his will. (Don’t feel too sorry for him, they once needed Arsenal fans and after his nerves settled he talked the ear off the Casting Director) My beautiful buba has slept through a couple of auditions (she got herself a magazine front cover but has so far sabotaged all my castings… It couldn’t possibly be me that was the problem?!) and most recently my shiny Spaniel and I were seen striding to a casting suite in Soho with purposeful, hopeful looks on our mugs.
Try not to judge me, this is my actual life. Anyway, I must dash, I’m off to a recall!