Tuesday, April 20, 2004
i'm gonna live forever!
yesterday i helped some independent film producers out by reading the stage directions in a reading of some guy's screenplay--except i guess when it's a screenplay, that person is called the narrator, which sounds very third grade play to me. it was the first time i'd been in some sort of acting project with a famous person. Famous Lady looked younger in person, and was wearing an outfit that came straight for a 1983 k-mart. she was nice, if a little famous-y, and called me the wrong name all night.
Slightly Less Famous guy was sort of a dick, but only as an actor. as a person, he was nice, but while we were reading he kept cutting off the stage directions with his lines, and he couldn't or wouldn't actually read the script. he'd look down, sort of absorb the gist, and then make up something that meant sort of the same thing.
Cult Favorite was even more sarcastic and dark than i had guessed, and i missed my chance to tell her how much i liked her work. she did compliment my wonder woman bag, though.
and the two actors that did the best work were the broadway workhorses, the ones who do eight shows a week, singin' and dancin'. i wanted to fold them up and shove them inside my brains.
when it was over, Famous Lady thanked me (or, actually, she thanked Lynne, whoever that is) and i scuttled out, and the village was so freaking beautiful i wanted ice cream immediately. i mean, you should see it out there. the crooked streets like your old english professor's bottom teeth, those white trees blooming everywhere, the bricks on the old buildings. it was eighty degrees and fucking brilliant. so much so that returning to queens was a small let down, but. still.
i'm called back for a nice show tonight. hold your thumbs if you can.
Slightly Less Famous guy was sort of a dick, but only as an actor. as a person, he was nice, but while we were reading he kept cutting off the stage directions with his lines, and he couldn't or wouldn't actually read the script. he'd look down, sort of absorb the gist, and then make up something that meant sort of the same thing.
Cult Favorite was even more sarcastic and dark than i had guessed, and i missed my chance to tell her how much i liked her work. she did compliment my wonder woman bag, though.
and the two actors that did the best work were the broadway workhorses, the ones who do eight shows a week, singin' and dancin'. i wanted to fold them up and shove them inside my brains.
when it was over, Famous Lady thanked me (or, actually, she thanked Lynne, whoever that is) and i scuttled out, and the village was so freaking beautiful i wanted ice cream immediately. i mean, you should see it out there. the crooked streets like your old english professor's bottom teeth, those white trees blooming everywhere, the bricks on the old buildings. it was eighty degrees and fucking brilliant. so much so that returning to queens was a small let down, but. still.
i'm called back for a nice show tonight. hold your thumbs if you can.
