Hello Hollywood
Author notes:
Since I started these posts nine months ago, I have taken a mostly serious tone, focusing mainly on passages from my novel. But I think that is too limited, and at times, too serious. Life is not all work. There has to be some play if we want to keep sane. So I would like to add in a few lighter articles. You know, just-having-fun articles, to keep my mind right, especially in light of the barrage of negative news throughout this never-ending election season.
Today I want to share a fun, but personal story with you. For background, I recently saw an ad in the San Antonio newspaper that a segment of the Harrison Ford television series “1923” was being filmed in town and they were looking for extras. So on a lark, I emailed the acting company and sent them a picture of me in my cowboy hat.
They hired me!
Last week I drove two hours through the parking lot we call I-35 to Austin, spent an hour with the costume director, and on Friday when we actually shoot my scene, I will officially become an actor!
But more on that experience later.
Truth is, this wasn’t the first brush with Hollywood. It was thirty years ago when I was a journalist in Ohio. Here is what I wrote then about dabbling in the waters of Babylon.
Hello Hollywood
I’ve never been particularly fond of anything that came out of Hollywood. Maybe that’s why I wasn’t too enthused when my editor asked me to write a story about some people who were trying to get a part in a Hollywood movie being filmed locally.
“Actors are too weird,” I complained. “Haven’t met one who was normal.” But arguing with an editor is like arguing with my wife. So I headed south to interview what I was convinced were a couple of people who actually thought a bit part in a movie really mattered in life.
“My time would be better spent having a root canal than talking to a couple of frustrated wannabe actors,” I grumbled to myself as I hit the interstate.
According to my editor the movie was called “Milk Money” and it starred Ed Harris and Melanie Griffith. Maybe if I was lucky, he said, I might be able to meet them, too.
Fat chance, I thought. But the more I drove and the more I thought about meeting Melanie Griffith, the more I liked my assignment.
By the time I got to Lebanon I had just about convinced myself the assignment wasn’t that bad after all.
“Maybe I could even try out for a small part, too. Why not?” I said to myself. “And why just a small part? Who knows, maybe I could get a speaking part. Hey, maybe even a scene with Melanie Griffith.”
When I pulled into downtown Lebanon where the movie was actually being shot, I just about had myself moving to Hollywood.
“I wonder what kind of scene Melanie and I will being doing together. Maybe there will be some sort of kissing. I hope Kathy doesn’t mind. But hey, it’s only acting.”
The mind can be a dangerous thing if left unchecked by reality.
Fortunately, it didn’t take long for a little dose of the real world to bring me back to Ohio. When I finally walked onto the movie set, ready to start my new career, I might add, I was directed toward the second floor of an old building where all of us wannabe actors were crowded together waiting for a chance to audition for a part.
There was no air conditioning in the room, but no one seemed to mind. What’s a little inconvenience if it meant getting a chance at becoming a star?
Some people played cards to pass the time. Others practiced some imaginary script to themselves. Most just sat smoking cigarettes and staring at the door where every hour or so some 20-year-old kid talking into a two-way radio would come in, look us over and then walk out without saying a word. I guess he was looking for extras for whatever scene they were filming.
Now I understand why they call an audition a “cattle call.”
“Hey, what about me?” I said half out loud every time the door opened. “I’m a journalist. I can add character to the movie.”
Didn’t help. I guessed they weren’t looking for character, at least not yet. So every time he left without giving me a second glance, I comforted myself by saying that maybe it was a good thing he didn’t pick me yet. Maybe I would get a better part, a speaking part. Maybe that scene with Melanie was still coming up.
I waited and I waited and I waited in that room for most of the night. By the end of the afternoon I was practicing imaginary scripts and by late evening I had taken up smoking to pass the time like everyone else.
Finally about midnight that same kid walked in again and said, “Sorry, we don’t need any more people.”
And that was it. No movie part, no scene with Melanie, no acting career, no move to Hollywood. Without even so much as a thank you I was ushered out of the building and given the bum’s rush back to the highway.
And I never even found those two local actors I was hunting for.
But that’s all right. I really didn’t want to talk to a couple of actors anyway. Actors are too weird. Haven’t met one who was normal. They really think getting a bit part in a movie really matters in life.