My Fabulous Life
Well darlings I am long overdue in writing and telling you about my fabulous life as a comedienne. Especially since my nemesis, Bob, says the OTHER Comedy Diva site is 'under construction'. HA.
Anyhoo, I will tell you about this past week. I did a call back for a musical. It started with a dance call, which was a bit of a surprise. They should TELL you these things or else you end up dancing in pantyhose and sweating off your make-up. 'Nuff said. I was there all morning, waiting to be called, practising my song and -ahem- reading the script. Darlings, it simply wasn't AVAILABLE before then, and really who cares about the silly plot? I was quite eager to read for the role of the Lesbian Reporter. Unfortunately, the demented director was considering me for the role of the Retarded Nine-Year old child. I AM NOT KIDDING YOU. I am a tall woman, and although I am not short on ambition, I would not cast myself as a 9 year old child. Besides which, I have a massive bosom. So four hours later I sang my little song for them, and they said, "Don't let the door hit your ass on the way out." God, what are these people thinking? Clearly I am meant to play LEAD roles or nothing at all. In this case, I am taking nothing.
Then I had dress rehearsals and the opening of a musical. A different one. In which I play a lead role, that of a Lesbian Nun. I TOLD you I had this gay-thing down pat. Well, I hate to be modest and so I won't be: I was FABULOUS. I got huge laughs, except for the times when my fellow actress stepped on them. That is a technical term used in comedy. When the audience is just about to laugh, but an actor speaks too soon and cuts it off. Actors who work primarily in DRAMA or FILM do this ALL the time because they don't know any better and it is very frustrating to people such as myself who are busy earning the laughs. Anyway, I KNOW I was funny because the producers handed out little surveys to the audience, and I snuck a peak at several (but did not stoop so low as to FILL out one myself- reallly I am not that desperate even though no one would recognize my handwriting) and over and over people put down ME in response to the question "what is the best part of this play?"
Big opening night parties, champagne, roses, blah blah blah ... and then on my DARK night I did an improv performance. Yes, there is no rest for the talented. The show was Long Form improv, which is not those silly games you see Drew Carey attempting, but Long Form: Genres. That means you emulate different kinds of film styles in an improvised movie. I played a 1940's dame with lots of wink-wink innuendo and jargon. A sci-fi flick followed (yes, groan...) and then a Romantic Comedy, where I embodied the spirit of a young Meg Ryan, before she ruined her face with all that collagen. Big Laughs were had by all, especially my poor cast mates, who had a hard time keeping up with me and my quick wit. Yes, I was On Fire, another technical term in comedy, it means you are Hot, which is a good thing, as Martha might say.
The NEXT day I helped a director out with his callbacks for a play he is directing. I got to read lines with all the best dramatic actors in town. And didn't their eyes pop when they saw me? It is a total status thing to be in the room with the director. Because the other actors assume that you are already cast in a role OR that you have the ear of the director, and can make or break each person's chances at getting hired. Which, of course, is true. The actors who DIDN't shake my hand, I read in a monotone or bad dialect and purposely tried to make them look bad. Which wasn't hard. Most dramatic actors are so boring you just want to kill yourself the minute they open their mouths. They can only do two things: whisper or shout. And nobody can cry on the spot, that seems to take weeks of Method research. Ha. Then the director took me to dinner, I told him who I would hire or not, and, grateful for my input, he offered me a role in a different play he is directing next year!! A comedy, thank God.
That night after the show, I rushed out to do stand-up at a local club. Yes I was hilarious. And the next night, after the show, I went salsa dancing. Who was there but a famous comic actor, a guy who I am not free to name. I had no idea he could dance! I plan to stalk him - I mean stake him out the club- and dance with him next week. In this business it is ALL who you know, and if I can swivel my pelvis with a VIP who has his own TV show, you bet I am going to do that!
What else? That should be enough for a week in an actor's life. I am exhausted just thinking about it. Must go get a latte. Today I already updated my websites, tomorrow I will update my resume, and then - oh my gosh - I totally forgot - the reviews of my musical should be out. Must go darlings, keep well!
Anyhoo, I will tell you about this past week. I did a call back for a musical. It started with a dance call, which was a bit of a surprise. They should TELL you these things or else you end up dancing in pantyhose and sweating off your make-up. 'Nuff said. I was there all morning, waiting to be called, practising my song and -ahem- reading the script. Darlings, it simply wasn't AVAILABLE before then, and really who cares about the silly plot? I was quite eager to read for the role of the Lesbian Reporter. Unfortunately, the demented director was considering me for the role of the Retarded Nine-Year old child. I AM NOT KIDDING YOU. I am a tall woman, and although I am not short on ambition, I would not cast myself as a 9 year old child. Besides which, I have a massive bosom. So four hours later I sang my little song for them, and they said, "Don't let the door hit your ass on the way out." God, what are these people thinking? Clearly I am meant to play LEAD roles or nothing at all. In this case, I am taking nothing.
Then I had dress rehearsals and the opening of a musical. A different one. In which I play a lead role, that of a Lesbian Nun. I TOLD you I had this gay-thing down pat. Well, I hate to be modest and so I won't be: I was FABULOUS. I got huge laughs, except for the times when my fellow actress stepped on them. That is a technical term used in comedy. When the audience is just about to laugh, but an actor speaks too soon and cuts it off. Actors who work primarily in DRAMA or FILM do this ALL the time because they don't know any better and it is very frustrating to people such as myself who are busy earning the laughs. Anyway, I KNOW I was funny because the producers handed out little surveys to the audience, and I snuck a peak at several (but did not stoop so low as to FILL out one myself- reallly I am not that desperate even though no one would recognize my handwriting) and over and over people put down ME in response to the question "what is the best part of this play?"
Big opening night parties, champagne, roses, blah blah blah ... and then on my DARK night I did an improv performance. Yes, there is no rest for the talented. The show was Long Form improv, which is not those silly games you see Drew Carey attempting, but Long Form: Genres. That means you emulate different kinds of film styles in an improvised movie. I played a 1940's dame with lots of wink-wink innuendo and jargon. A sci-fi flick followed (yes, groan...) and then a Romantic Comedy, where I embodied the spirit of a young Meg Ryan, before she ruined her face with all that collagen. Big Laughs were had by all, especially my poor cast mates, who had a hard time keeping up with me and my quick wit. Yes, I was On Fire, another technical term in comedy, it means you are Hot, which is a good thing, as Martha might say.
The NEXT day I helped a director out with his callbacks for a play he is directing. I got to read lines with all the best dramatic actors in town. And didn't their eyes pop when they saw me? It is a total status thing to be in the room with the director. Because the other actors assume that you are already cast in a role OR that you have the ear of the director, and can make or break each person's chances at getting hired. Which, of course, is true. The actors who DIDN't shake my hand, I read in a monotone or bad dialect and purposely tried to make them look bad. Which wasn't hard. Most dramatic actors are so boring you just want to kill yourself the minute they open their mouths. They can only do two things: whisper or shout. And nobody can cry on the spot, that seems to take weeks of Method research. Ha. Then the director took me to dinner, I told him who I would hire or not, and, grateful for my input, he offered me a role in a different play he is directing next year!! A comedy, thank God.
That night after the show, I rushed out to do stand-up at a local club. Yes I was hilarious. And the next night, after the show, I went salsa dancing. Who was there but a famous comic actor, a guy who I am not free to name. I had no idea he could dance! I plan to stalk him - I mean stake him out the club- and dance with him next week. In this business it is ALL who you know, and if I can swivel my pelvis with a VIP who has his own TV show, you bet I am going to do that!
What else? That should be enough for a week in an actor's life. I am exhausted just thinking about it. Must go get a latte. Today I already updated my websites, tomorrow I will update my resume, and then - oh my gosh - I totally forgot - the reviews of my musical should be out. Must go darlings, keep well!
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