Market

I’ve started to feel a little schizoid lately. Too many fingers. Too many pies. I submitted the London Adventure to a slightly gobsmacked client. Nothing like exceeding expectations. Then I had two auditions with the same suit on, both of them finished by 11.05am after which the day was mine. Early finish… Too much time for reflection. If the meeting is at 5 you can justifiably have a pint to kill it shortly after. 2 meetings before 11 and it’s a long day eating sour adrenaline.

The first audition was a self tape. Me saying one line into a mobile phone held by a bemused friend who had reluctantly helped me frame it first. Adrenaline doesn’t come into these. You just … do them. Fuck it. The entirety of the part is the one line I threw into my phone while Tom reluctantly held it. He’s called “Politician”. Boom. Yep. When I’d just left Guildhall I’d have been like “seriously? They need it taped?” but with all the blood under the bridge I’ll start again wherever they’ll let me. I’m living by the old adage – all it takes is one job for people to remember I’m good at my job.

Self tape recorded I went into town to a studio where I also remembered – via the casting director – how dumb some actors can be. I was talking about the shot with the director. He wanted a close up of my eye for the client. I was up for a famous engineer. “Oh, they want ” ‘the eye that understands engines’ or somesuch,” I ventured to the director by way of meaningless connection banter. “No!” announces the casting director, using her troubleshooting voice. “It’s just your eye. Nothing else. Just your eye. Your eye. Nothing else.” And I realise that here is a woman who has watched multiple people in this scenario pulling some sort of ridiculous face. And she thinks I might be about to do the same. God help us all.

We are always just one job away from all that shit falling away. That’s what I’m holding on to. Jesus bring me that job so I don’t feel like I’m at the wrong kind of market on the wrong side of the slab. I guess Jesus can’t bring it. I could grow my hair long. It’s me or nothing. Although hi, Ethan and Joel! I check my Facebook fairly regularly or you can go through my agent. I’m the sort of guy you like. Let’s get it on.


This evening I went with Brian and lots of his colleagues and friends to Deadpool 2. Nothing like a bit of ultraviolent escapist superhero fuckery to help you forget the arsehole burrowing that can come from that deadening side of our art – the waiting game. I like Deadpool as a hero trope. Kamikaze invulnerable self-loathing idiot that solves pain with humour.

The weekend means something this time round. I’m not working over it for starters. That makes a change. Plus this week has been pretty full on for the random. I think a rest is in order so I can go back into the mix fresh on Monday.

Meanwhile, gin? Or sleep. Probably sleep, sadly. Gin can wait.

mde

 

 

Author: albarclay

This blog is a work of creative writing. Do not mistake it for truth. All opinions are mine and not that of my numerous employers.

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