I Am A Hiddeously Deformed Troll Gargoyle Who Should Not Be Allowed On Camera

I am so in love with my new commercial class; the teacher is absolutely wonderful and the class is one of those rare instances where it is a completely safe environment to explore and thus fall flat on your face in. I've actually been learning a lot, and have found acting in commercials to be surprisingly challenging. First of all, the copy reads like a damn stupid commercial, but you have to make it seem like you're not trying to sell something - like you're just so bowled over by this incredible thing that you're dying to share it with your best friend...but not sell it. You have to make it personal and totally honest and believable or it won't work. The writing makes it seem like a commercial, you shouldn't. Then there's the fact that half of the time the copy is a story of some sort, but you can't make the story about you and your life, as we in the theatre are used to doing; it must always be about the product. It's really harder than it sounds to balance all of these factors in, and then you have the added stress of reading these fucking illegible cue cards while trying to remain in constant contact with the camera the whole time and not look like you're trying to read these fucking illegible cue cards. Sounds incredibly fun, doesn't it?

Last week I had copy that was an epic Ikea novella more about wanting to settle down with a husband, kids and a dog than furniture, but I nailed it on the second take. I was sick as a dog too; evidently that helps (note to self...). The teacher, who is a casting director, was really happy with it, and it just started to kind of click for me. I realized that its still acting- the one thing in this world that I know I can do really well- and to get the hell out of my head about it. One of my classmates told me tonight that had that been an audition I definitely would have booked it. This classmate is also one of those very actory types who likes to only talk about themselves; to make matters worse he lived in L.A. for a bit of time, which tends to propel the natural solipsism of actors to epic proportions. I was rather shocked to hear him utter a sentence that did not contain the pronoun "I", but the shock wore off quickly as he then launched into some story about some audition that I didn't really care about at all. Last week he was given toe fungus medicine copy to read and I was secretly happy. I am a mean mean person.

Tonight's class was a one on one mock audition then working session with the teacher, followed by a class review of the taped takes. My copy was for Diet Ocean Spray cranberry juice, and was all about some guy I was dating who worked for Ocean Spray. The teacher keeps giving me copy that has to do with boys and boyfriends and stuff, as noted by other classmates as well as myself. My teacher noticed tonight too, and remarked on it when I entered the room; I replied that he must clearly be reading my blog. The first two takes were the audition and then you discussed and worked through other takes. My first take was a little too commerciall-y and my second was too much in the exact opposite direction, honest but not excited. Had that been my audition, there would be no callback in sight. But I knew what happened and the teacher seemed surprised at my self awareness of exactly what went wrong. We worked through very well, and the last take was exactly what he wanted. I said, "So what's missing from it? What's needed now? He laughed and said "Had that last take been your audition, I as the casting director would be very happy to send that off to the client. That last take was a really good audition. The rest happens on-set. Stop trying to overcomplicate it and trust yourself."

Ah yes, the magical words that I seem to have such difficulty digesting, both in work and in life. Trust Yourself. Much easier said than done, but every time its said to me, its proven to be a very wise phrase indeed.

Then we watched the tape. God do I hate seeing myself on tape. I looked like a fat ugly grotseque troll with a huge odd shaped head, one eye bigger than the other, and this damn snaggle tooth that my Mom long ago predicted I would come to despise and rue the days when I wouldn't wear my retainers after my braces came off. I have to go to the gym and lose 500 pounds immediately! I have to get braces again! And my nose did not look this huge onscreen last week -it suddenly inflated and became the giant Jewish schnoz of the entire American side of my family (not that the French side was blessed with tiny noses either)! I did not look like this moments before in the bathroom mirror. I had suddenly transformed into a gargoyle whose hiddeousness was worthy of Notre Dame; it was truly frightening, not to mention depressing.

This is why in week one of the class we don't use the camera.

But this is week three, and its only getting worse. Or maybe I was too sick to notice last week. Either way, I'm terrified.

I also got an e-mail today from the director of the independent film I shot last summer; its finished and there's going to be a screening next month. I'm terrified to see it, especially after watching my hideous troll gargoyle self on camera tonight. My mountainous lump of flesh that is referred to as my body is unclothed in some scenes; I get drowned in a bathtub for chrissake! Now I'll have to see how misshapen and deformed my whole body looks on camera, not just the torso up.

I am really regretting those two pieces of chocolate I ate today at the stupid day job. They are taunting and mocking me to no end in my mind right now.

I'm also secretly terrified that the film is going to suck. I think that the hardest thing about transitioning from stage to film is giving up control of the final product. You just have to shoot and then let go of it; its in the director's hands after that. Editing can completely make or break a film and a performance. What if he broke me?

On the positive side of things, at least I'm obsessing over my troll gargoyle appearance rather than stupid boys for once. And at least I am a very talented troll gargoyle, whose talent was affirmed by both my teacher and the film's director. So while I may be a hiddeous creature on camera, I can take some comfort and solace in the fact that I am a good actor, if not a marketable one.

Though speaking of stupid boys, I do have to share that there was a voice mail message tonight (I always forget to turn my ringer back on) from Mr. Emotionally Unavailable. He said he was calling because he was going to bed early tonight, before midnight (there was a no calling after midnight rule put into effect a long time ago due to my little drunken dialing problem), so he wanted to make sure I wasn't drunk somewhere in his neighborhood and unable to make my way home; he wanted to preempt any 2am calls if possible. I knew I was going to get shit for that.