BAD ACTING

CLOWN

        On my first day in LA, I purchased the latest issue of Backstage.

        Backstage is an entertainment industry newspaper aimed at professionals working in film and the performing arts, with a special focus on casting, job opportunities, and career advice.

        Mostly student films and low-budget horror crap.

        An acting workshop caught my attention. It involved casting directors from major television and films. Everything else advertised seemed shady or pointless. 

        I needed to meet somebody to point me in the right direction.

        I called the acting studio and set up a meeting with the owner.

*

        I arrived at the Burbank studio thirty-minutes early. After parking next to the brick building, I waited in my car double-checking the contents of my messenger bag to kill time.

        Headshots

        Resume

        Directions

        Phone

        Wallet

        Notebook

        Pen

        Extra pen

        Eight minutes before the meeting, I locked my car and walked into the brick building.

        Lynn George, studio owner. Red hair, fifty-seven, skinny, plastic surgery addict.

        I handed Lynn my headshots and resume and she gave me two scenes to read with her.

        "No TV/Film credits?"

        I could not stop looking at Lynn's facelift and boob job. Her tits two sizes too big.

        "Not yet."

        "Only experienced and working actors can take the classes at my studio."

        "I heard this was the best studio in town, so I wanted to see for myself." I surveyed the room, pretending to be unimpressed.

        "I see. Try the scenes with me since you're already here. I can give you names of beginner's classes nearby."

        Lynn's feline face and clown lips stared back at me as we read the scenes.

        "Read your lines, then look up when delivering them out loud, so you can show expression and connect with the audience ...or into the camera for taped auditions."

        We ran the scenes again, and I read the sides taking her direction. Lynn seemed more impressed.

        "You have a great look. I see you easily passing for fifteen."

        Lynn asked me to wait in the lobby while she gathered information for me on classes.

        "... and you need someone to take proper headshots," Lynn added, setting my photos aside. "These are awful."

*

        While waiting in the lobby, a class let out and a woman stopped next to my chair.

        "Honey, who are you?"

        I introduced myself.

        Lynn, nearby at her desk, told the woman I just gave an impressive cold read.

        "He is green and has a lot to learn," Lynn added.

        "You are so damn cute!"

        "I just moved here," I replied. I opened my eyes wide hoping to make the moment count.

        Helen Crammers, casting director of Black Magic on the TZ Network, brown hair, short and curvy.

        Helen told Lynn that I should enroll in her workshop based solely on my look. Helen left and Lynn excitedly waved me over to her desk. Lynn reminded me she usually denied inexperienced actors, but since the casting director wanted me in the class I should jump at the chance.

        I enrolled in the twelve-week workshop. Lynn gave me the name of a photographer before I left.

        "A good headshot can go a long way," she said.