Regular readers may recall that two posts ago I gushed about all the auditions I had been to and I'm sure many of you are still waiting on the edge of your baited breath to hear about the final audition I had with no lines. I didn't get it! That's OK, it was dumb.
However, while doing that audition Stu the casting director with a lovely dog who used to sit in on auditions but doesn't any longer, popped his head in the door and asked if I could sing. I replied with a resounding 'YYYEEEESSSS' in the key of B sharp and started to tap dance as well for good measure. I have had a tap dancing lesson so I can tap-dance. I have also touched a horse so I can ride a horse. I have tripped over on a movie set so I am qualified to do stunts. I can say hello in at least five different languages and am fluent in them all. I can swim, surf, fire a gun, drive a bus, truck, plane and do any accent for two minutes until it becomes Welsh or Indian. Stu could have asked me if I can put my head between my knees and whistle up my Barcelona and I would have done it. Actors are very versatile and are great at telling fibs, especially if it may lead to a job. When 'Lord of the Rings' was filming everyone in Wellington could ride a horse, even the horses were going around riding each other they were that desperate to get some work. When I auditioned for that vampire flick '30 Days of Night' (I didn't get it but the film was dumb so it's OK), I hung upside down from the rafters in a black unitard for days and only came out at night to hunt KFC using echolocation.
Stu was obviously impressed with my singing ability and called me back the next day to audition for the role of 'PEDESTRIAN', another role in the same commercial I had already unsuccessfully auditioned for the role of 'BELL HOP' in. I was very excited. I don't look like a Bell Hop but I definitely look like a Pedestrian. I don't even own a car and have a lot of experience being a Pedestrian so I didn't have to do any character research. I was born to play this role.
And I nailed the audition. One line, sung direct to camera, two takes on my back, two takes on my front, four takes of gold. There was comedy, pathos and just a hint of cheekiness. I even gave them a choice of octaves. I was the Pedestrian who had just been knocked over by a car they were looking for. On Sunday they called and wanted me to go in for a call-back on Monday. I went back in and the American director and producer were there. The director was nice and shook my hand, the producer was staring into his Apple Promacintosh and looked at my outstretched hand as if it was a big pubic crab trying to get into his pants. The director asked me to lift my head slowly and not smile before singing the line, then lift with smile, then lift look at my body then sing, then lift fast, sing, lower slowly, then lift fast, smile, sing and lower quickly, then lift, look at my body, smile, sing, lower slowly while still smiling, then keep my head on the ground and smile and sing, then keep my head on the ground and sing...he really liked the last one.
On Tuesday I got the call I was on hold and had to go in for a costume fitting. I went in and tried on lots of clothes from The Warehouse, Hallensteins and St Vincent de Paul. Later that night my agent called and confirmed I had got the part. What a joyous night it was.
I shot it last Saturday. I lay down on Fort Street underneath the bumper of a Mercedes four by four and gave it my all all the time. My shot was the last of the four day shoot (or the martini for those in the know), and I could see that all the crew were engrossed in my performance, except for the 98% of them who were ripping down lights and set all around me as I acted my little Hallensteins shirt off. We ran way overtime and I had to change into my lovely WORLD suit in a taxi on my way to Ellerslie for a gig after. I asked the nice driver how my tie was and he said it looked good. I think he was either Indian or Welsh.
On another completely different note here's a link to a top tune. I've filled up a bit of blog space by ranting about music I don't like so I should try and provide some balance. It's by an American band called Mason Proper who I know nothing about except for producing a piece of perfection by taking two good songs and putting them together to make an even gooder song. Who would have thought that 'Get Innocuous' by LCD Soundsystem and 'Love Lockdown' by Kanye West would work so well together? It's bloody genius and you can have a listen to it here.
Friday, November 13, 2009
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Nickelcats
errzsa
The opening word today was typed by puss puss with her two back paws. I've googled it and it means nothing which is disappointing. I'm hopeful I will discover the first British Blue who can touch type and turn her into a worldwide phenomenon in the same vein as Nora the piano playing cat and Fatso, aka Keyboard Cat, who played the keyboard in the 1980's and died in the year 2000.
Poor Fatso. He probably died of shame for being forced to wear that horrible blue shirt while his owner, a gentleman by the name of Charlie Schmidt, jiggled his forlorn feline's front legs up and down in time with the pre-programmed cheese emitting from his horrible little organ. Here is a link to Charlie Schmidt's website. Apparently he is a professional graphic designer, actor, inventor, movie maker, painter, sculptor, performance artist, builder of hot rod cars, teacher, 2nd degree black belt, musician and philospher. Be careful with his website, it's very wacky and makes wacky noises when you move your cursor over his wacky icons highlighting what wacky things he does, the wackiest of which appears to be nose dancing. What a cock.
I've just read another article that says keyboard cat died in 1987. The more I delve into the life of Fatso the murkier and sadder it becomes. Fatso was an orange Spokane cat and in many ways was just another disposable victim in the globalised industry called manufactured pop. The steps are quite simple:
1. Find someone good looking and desperate for fame, talent is not required but a modicum is beneficial.
2. Write a terrible song for them.
3. Make them wear terrible clothes.
4. Make them change their name.
5. Put your hand up their arse and control their every move with an iron fist.
6. Make a terrible video.
7. Make lots of terrible merchandise.
8. Make lots of money.
9. Make the artist sign a contract so they do not make lots of money.
10. When popularity wanes go to step 1.
Most of these steps are easier when you're dealing with a cat.
My favourite manufactured pop impresario was Larry Parnes who invited lots of young men to his house in the 1950's, changed their names, gave them nice suits and made them famous for a while. Larry and his menagerie had hit after hit but his real talent was devising evocative names guaranteed to get the younguns all juiced up and ready to part with their hard earned pence, not that Larry's men saw much of it. Billy Fury, Vince Eager, Lance Fortune, Georgie Fame, Duffy Power and my favourite Dickie Pride. Dickie Pride's real name was Richard Charles Kneller and you have to wonder why Larry just didn't add an E and drop an L to Kneller to get Dickie Kneeler. The only man to stand up to Larry, he hated his young boys standing up, was Joe Brown who bravely resisted Larry's desire to launch him as Elmer Twitch. Larry did turn down a band called The Silver Beetles which wasn't the greatest move although he did use them as a backing band for Johnny Gentle.
On the subject of horrible music with no artistic merit here is a disturbing picture. These pieces of eye torture are everywhere in Auckland at the moment. Every breath I take, every move I make, every vow I break, every smile I fake, every claim I stake, every leaf I rake, every time I wake, every baby I shake, every brownie I bake, every muss I jake, Chad Kroeger, his brother Mike and the other two drop-kicks are watching me behind their sunglasses which they even wear at night because their eyes are red because they are all the devil's children.Thank God they are only inflicting us with one show, although it is their biggest show EVER! When you've rocked the world for over a decade your biggest show EVER! must be pretty big. I hope Auckland's show rocks as much as this one in Portugal where the brave Portuguese pelted Chad with Portuguese rocks until he left the stage. C'mon Auckland, let's show Portugal that we can rock harder than them, more rocks, bigger rocks, the biggest rocks EVER! Kia kaha.
The opening word today was typed by puss puss with her two back paws. I've googled it and it means nothing which is disappointing. I'm hopeful I will discover the first British Blue who can touch type and turn her into a worldwide phenomenon in the same vein as Nora the piano playing cat and Fatso, aka Keyboard Cat, who played the keyboard in the 1980's and died in the year 2000.
I've just read another article that says keyboard cat died in 1987. The more I delve into the life of Fatso the murkier and sadder it becomes. Fatso was an orange Spokane cat and in many ways was just another disposable victim in the globalised industry called manufactured pop. The steps are quite simple:
1. Find someone good looking and desperate for fame, talent is not required but a modicum is beneficial.
2. Write a terrible song for them.
3. Make them wear terrible clothes.
4. Make them change their name.
5. Put your hand up their arse and control their every move with an iron fist.
6. Make a terrible video.
7. Make lots of terrible merchandise.
8. Make lots of money.
9. Make the artist sign a contract so they do not make lots of money.
10. When popularity wanes go to step 1.
Most of these steps are easier when you're dealing with a cat.
My favourite manufactured pop impresario was Larry Parnes who invited lots of young men to his house in the 1950's, changed their names, gave them nice suits and made them famous for a while. Larry and his menagerie had hit after hit but his real talent was devising evocative names guaranteed to get the younguns all juiced up and ready to part with their hard earned pence, not that Larry's men saw much of it. Billy Fury, Vince Eager, Lance Fortune, Georgie Fame, Duffy Power and my favourite Dickie Pride. Dickie Pride's real name was Richard Charles Kneller and you have to wonder why Larry just didn't add an E and drop an L to Kneller to get Dickie Kneeler. The only man to stand up to Larry, he hated his young boys standing up, was Joe Brown who bravely resisted Larry's desire to launch him as Elmer Twitch. Larry did turn down a band called The Silver Beetles which wasn't the greatest move although he did use them as a backing band for Johnny Gentle.
On the subject of horrible music with no artistic merit here is a disturbing picture. These pieces of eye torture are everywhere in Auckland at the moment. Every breath I take, every move I make, every vow I break, every smile I fake, every claim I stake, every leaf I rake, every time I wake, every baby I shake, every brownie I bake, every muss I jake, Chad Kroeger, his brother Mike and the other two drop-kicks are watching me behind their sunglasses which they even wear at night because their eyes are red because they are all the devil's children.Thank God they are only inflicting us with one show, although it is their biggest show EVER! When you've rocked the world for over a decade your biggest show EVER! must be pretty big. I hope Auckland's show rocks as much as this one in Portugal where the brave Portuguese pelted Chad with Portuguese rocks until he left the stage. C'mon Auckland, let's show Portugal that we can rock harder than them, more rocks, bigger rocks, the biggest rocks EVER! Kia kaha.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)