I don’t let myself binge box sets very often these days. Not enough time in the day and the list of unfinished business is seemingly neverending. But today so far I’ve watched 6 episodes back to back of something I’d never normally choose. I can tell myself it’s for work, you see.
Email this morning from my agent, as I was in transit from Brighton back home to pick up the threads of my life here. One of the aspirational casting directors has remembered me from something I did twenty years ago and has called me in. Sometimes it amazes me how that can happen. I’ve got a couple of scenes to learn and put on tape tomorrow, and I’ve got a season to watch if I want full context. I can enjoy it and call it work as I establish how to pitch myself.
I’m gonna need a haircut though. My agent said it’s fine, just tell them it’s lockdown and you couldn’t manage. Maybe… But my guy is traditional. He’s old school. I’ve already shorn myself like a new born lamb. It’s my job to give myself the best shot I can, so I’m gonna find a way to snip the locks tomorrow before filming the scenes and sending them off. For however many years, I’ve waited for a shot at meeting this casting director. A tape is just a tape. But it’ll do, so long as I pitch it right. This could be a nice thing to do as we struggle back up into the light, and I’m enjoying the first season enough to know it’s something I’d be happy to give my head to. Certainly I’ll make myself look neat and learn some words and bother a friend and give up an afternoon for the chance of it. It’s part of my job.
It feels auspicious. They just shot on a beach where I was walking a few weeks ago, and cut to a street behind my flat. I’ve learnt by now not to give my hope too soon, and anybody wishing me good luck will only annoy me, but this is where I write about my day so that’s the thing that happened today. I’m forced by NDA etc to be vague as anything so you won’t hear me name the show. Scripts for these things come watermarked with your name, so if you forward it and it ends up leaked then it all traces back to you and you’ll never work in this town again motherfucker. I’ve got the whole episode I’m meeting for to read before I go to bed. It’s all a bit rushed for me. I could have done with a second sleep on the lines, but clearly they want my tape in before the weekend so they can marvel at how right I am for the part for two days and then call my agent with the good news on Monday.
So tonight, four more episodes and read one, secure lines, sleep. Tomorrow morning select clothing and run lines, groom and pin down friend for help and possible haircut. Tomorrow afternoon to evening record it. Then get it sent and try to utterly forget I ever did anything until the phone rings. Gah. But I said I needed to get on set. Here’s the shot.