Wednesday, January 26, 2011

You Bitch

Yesterday, I did audience work for a show called I KID. The set was on Universal Studios City Walk and was an early call.

In the second shot, I was positioned two girls away from Brad Garrett, the host. A little heavy boy of about 10 yrs of age to my right said, "Hey! Hey Brad, if you need a host for the show. I am available."

Brad said, "Really, you want the job? Its yours."

10 said, "Yes, I do."

Brad laughs and turns away.

10, "No, I am serious. If you need help with anything you can call me up."

An African-American girl, who I thought was originally around 17 (going on 30) chimed in, "That's the way you do it."

No, its not.

17 going on 30, "Tell them. I say I'll do whatever you want to me, too. Do you need a singer, I'm a singer. You need a dancer? I can dance. I can do everything. Just learn to say it to the right person. Like, Brad . . . he might have no control. Look for the Executive Producer credit."

Smart girl, but she hasn't been burned yet.

10 was silent, then said, "Brad, I know you thought I was joking before, but I am serious."

Brad turned to him, "You holding a weapon?"

17 on 30 said to 10, "You want to be an actor?"

10, "Yeah. I want to be Seinfeld. I want to be Steven Spielberg. I just want my name on the Walk of Fame."

17 on 30, "Did you call in sick for school?"

She went around to all the kids within 3 feet of us.

Teenage boy, "Home schooled."

Teenage girl, "Home schooled."

8 yr-old girl, "Yeah, my mom called and said I was sick."

17 on 30 looked down to a very little boy and said, "What's your name?"

He spelled it out in the air with his finger when she LOUDLY said, "Hold on! I can't read that fast. Start over."

He said, "Lucas."

She screeched in my ear, "LUCAS!! How old are you?"

He held up six fingers.

She screeched, "SIX!"

Ok, at this point I moved my delicate ear drums away from her fucking hole. Everyone was trying to out show everyone. These kids were twice as determined as the bitches I deal with on a daily basis, but much louder and more obnoxious. Gesus, this isn't an open call for GLEE. RELAX!

Brad said, "I need a tissue paper."

An audience member threw him a small bag of kleenex.

Brad, "You're hired."

The make-up woman hustled on set with a big bag thumping against her belly, tissue in hand.

Brad, "You're fired."

When Brad turned to the kids, he would be so over the top and loud. Half his jokes didn't make sense and the other half were only funny because he exaggerated his eyes and face so much, it would be awkward if we didn't laugh. He turned to us and says, "I'm crying because I don't know what happened to my career. WHAT HAPPENED? Everything was going so well."

Everyone laughed.

I didn't.

When the camera got in position, 17 on 30 moved her body so she was standing right in front of me. Her heels were on my big toe and I was breathing the hair off the back of her head.

Ok, this isn't the first time this happened to me. Bitches stand right in front of my face, block me from camera and think because they are taking my space, I will step backwards and let my already pea sized head disappear in the background. Please.

I shoved my elbow in her back. She turned and looked at me. I said, "Sorry" and smiled. She said, "That's ok."

I leaned back into my space. Watching me, she took a step back.

It happened again with some other bitch. Cunts. I jabbed my purse into her side. She didn't move. I stepped on the back of her heel. She didn't move. I leaned in and pressed my shoulder against hers. She didn't move.

So we stayed like that for 15 minutes. Standing on top of each other. If that's the way its gotta be . . . that's the way its gotta be.

At Rehearsal for Reservoir Bitches

Em was not at rehearsal because she took some time off to go back home in Minnesota. So, Mitchell was playing her part as the cop. I know Mitchell wants to be an actor, but he smiles through all of his lines.

Mitchell as COP:"Please, look, I got a little kid at home, please . . .

Blonde: "You all done? Fire scare you away?"

Mitchell COP: "Please don't, don't, don't, don't" . . . Mitchell says, "God, I sound so unrealistic."

I said, "Maybe it the smile on your face."

He stopped the scene and we moved on to the final scene, which we blocked out but still are fumbling through. As he handed out the guns, he made mention of how he is still perfecting the blocking since he only did the play once before.

Blonde said, "You only directed it once?"

Mitchell, "Yeah."

Me, "What happened to the other director? Did he move on to Broadway?"

Mitchell, "No, he quit."

Ms. White, "So did Ms. Brown."

Ms. Brown quit. Fucking great.

As side conversations filled the stage, Ms. White turned to me and said, "Thank you for the note on Alabama. I've been thinking about it. I think it will create a good moment when I change the conversation. If there is anything else, let me know? I love being directed."

She threw Mitchell a bitch look that could fry an egg.

I said, "I really like the bitchy thing you're doing with the character. The whole point is a female take on tough. Its a different flavor. I really like that."

She smiled. I wasn't lying.

Coming back to the conversations on stage, Evie was talking about her ex-boyfriend. Evie is an olive skinned brunette with big eyes. She purrs her lines, which I especially like since we share a few scenes together. It works well in contrast to my hard voiced character. Her feminine, pussy cat voice is occasionally interrupted by a large loogie migrating from her nostril cavity to the her throat.

Evie, "Sorry. I smoked a big blunt this morning and its still in my throat."

Sometimes, you have a moment with someone that sums up their personality. With Evie, it was last week, outside a bar after the performance of the previous cast. She was wearing a leopard print halter top with tits to her ears. She had her hair up, hoop earrings and kind of like Sharon Stone in CASINO. She was smoking a cigarette with Abe, and a little tipsy.

Evie: "Oh, what kind of dogs do you have?"

Me: "Pit bulls."

Evie, "I fucking LOVE pit bulls. My ex-boyfriend had a pit bull that loved me. I mean, she loved she so much she would lick my pussy . . . without peanut butter."

Ladies and gentlemen, meet Evie.

Back to rehearsal, she was telling a story, "My ex left me for this pregnant bitch. Their whole relationship is based on hate for me. Oh, I've hit him twice. Once was Hammertime. That was Jack Daniels. Second, he told me he cheated on me, so I punched him in the gut. When we first got together, it was like, 'Lets do it this together!' A couple years later its, 'Get a fucking job.' You know?"

We all were pushed back stage to go through the entire last third of the script. Mitchell played both Ms. Orange and the Cop since both actresses were missing from rehearsal . . . hahahaha. :-)

Ms. Pink rushed next to me back stage, "I don't know why Pink is talking about weed. Obviously, my character is into coke."

I said, "Why would you say that?"

Pink, "He talks so much, its like, insane. "

I said, "No, he's not. He is the only one with a clear head. He is the first to call the rat. The only one that grabbed a bag of stones and the only one focused enough to get outta there. He's smart, not high."

She snapped her head back to think about that for a while. Seriously, am I the only one who obsessed over this movie? Gesus Christ, Blonde, White and Orange had never seen the movie before accepting these parts. How? . . . Why? . . . Sigh.

With the exception of Em, Pink is the girl on the cast I gravitate the most towards, and I am not sure why. She is my age, that might be one reason. Maybe the freckles. Maybe because she is playing my favorite character. I don't know.

The moment that defined my understanding of Ms. Pink was also that same night in the bar after we watched the last performance of Reservoir Bitches.

In the bar, she said, "Where is your boyfriend?"

I said, "Outside smoking somewhere."

She said, "Its funny, I can hear how angry you are at him in your voice."

I said, "Oh, I am not angry at all. He likes to put on this lone wolf act and wander out alone but I keep my cool cause' I know that he is always staying close. I love him so much its like . . . " I made a heart with both my hands, shook it and the heart exploded in love.

She said, "You are so open. You are one of the most open people I know. (slurring) I wish I was like that. I never feel like myself. Everywhere I go, everyone I meet, I am not me. I am acting. Its so exhausting."

I said, "Even with your boyfriend?"

She slurred, "Hell no, he gets the real me. But you get to be the real you all the time. I never do."

What bothers me the most about this, beyond the fact that this beautiful, interesting girl wasn't comfortable being beautiful or interesting, is I never picked up on a vibe that she was "acting" through social conversation. I never would have pinned her for someone who wasn't being herself. She fooled even me.

Back to Rehearsal

As we were hanging back in a narrow, black room behind the stage, waiting for our cues, we shot the shit.

Evie was on Ms. Brown, "I knew that bitch was going to quit. I would've of told her but she would've just said (eyes wide, affected voice) 'Fuck you!!!'"

Ms. Blonde said, "If you want to do it, you look for a way. What's the phrase?"

Me, "Find a way?"

Blonde, "Yeah, duh!"

Me, "She was good."

Evie, "I could just tell. Bitches don't like looking in the mirror. She probably thought she was better than this."

Ms. White, "Well, we all kind of are."

Evie caught herself leaning up against the wall, stood upright and brushed her pants of. White is right, we all are.

We heard Mitchell on stage.

Mitchell as cop, "Please don't . . . arghhhhhh. Pow pow pow. (groan)."

Mitchell as Ms. Orange, "Hey, what's your name?"

Mitchell as cop, "Ah shit, Marva." Grooooaaan!

Behind Stage:

We all broke out laughing. He was going to do both parts alone in a scene with himself.

Evie, "I just peed myself. Just a little."

On Stage:

Mitchell as Cop, "This fuckin' bitch slashes my face and cuts my fuckin' ear off. Im fuckin deformed!"

Mitchell as Orange, "Fuck you! Fuck you! I am fuckin' dying over here."

Behind the stage:

Ms. Pink, "He is going to do a one man version of all the parts."

Evie, "Can't you just see him, painting each side of his face a different character. (she turned her head to the left) 'You bitch!' (to the right) 'YOU bitch!' (back to the left) 'You bitch!' (hand over face) And mask!"

White, Pink, Blonde and Evie all entered stage.

On Stage:

Evie, "What the fuck happened?" She is giggling hysterically.

Mitchell as Orange, "Blonde went crazy. Se slashed the cop's face, cut his ear off and was gonna burn her alive."

White, laughing hysterically, "This sick piece of shit was a stone cold psycho."

Everyone was giggling through the scene. All the way up to my entrance.

On Stage, I enter.

Me, "This woman set us up." I pointed to Mitchell curled up on the ground. And then I started laughing.

Evie, "Ma, I'm sorry, (chuckling) but I don't know what the hell is going on."

Me, "That's all right, Evie, I do. Ha hahahahaha!"

We laughed all the way up to me pointing my gun at Mitchell, White pointing her gun at me and Evie pointing her gun at her.

Now, I know why we were laughing. But why the fuck was Mitchell laughing? He kept giggling too.

Mitchell as Orange, "I don't have the slightest fucking idea of what you're talking about."

We all shot each other and fell on the floor laughing.

Mitchell, "Alright ladies, that's it for today. Thank you." He helped me up and I suddenly felt guilty for laughing at him.

I said, "Thank you, Mitchell." He offered a boyish smile. Aw, kid . . . why are you directing this play?

Driving home, I waited to turn left in an intersection as someone ahead of me rushed to get through the yellow light. The car behind me beeped.

In Jolie's voice, I said, "Hey, what the hell do you want me to do? The guy's comin' at me 30 miles an hour. I ain't gonna pull in front of him." Gawd, I love having a character with balls. It is so good for my self esteem.

Now if only there were girl characters like this . . .

No comments:

Post a Comment