The Sackler Trap

Why, Hello

It could have happened to anyone. But never me. Back in high school I loved acting in plays, but I was always passed over for the lead, instead taking minor roles. Non-speaking roles. It was frustrating. After graduating acting school, where once again, I would seem to just miss a lead part, it was the same. I was so excited to be finally cast in off-Broadway shows, usually as the quirky sidekick, the jealous "other girl", or, with heavy makeup, the mom or aunt. I think it was my average looks. I had a good figure, but I was a bit taller than average at 5'8"; my drama coach had once told me I had "ancient eyes" because of their deep warm brown color, and hair that matched them perfectly. Still, I was no dazzling beauty.

I continually auditioned for the leads every time and then threw myself into the supporting roles into which I was eventually cast. It was fine with me...they paid the rent. And I was acting; that was the point. So, when the opportunity came my way to audition for a supporting role in a cable TV show, I thought, "What the hell?" I seemed to be type-cast. But who knew what it would lead to? Other than a few makeup ads and one ad for a birth control ring, I hadn't done any TV. Hell, I might enjoy it, my talent agent Tracy Ivy, had said. And it wasn't like I was shooting for a major part, I told myself. Although she didn't tell what show it was, I was hardly in a position to care. I was at the end of another off-Broadway run with no prospects on the horizon. This had fallen into our laps. We were lucky it had, Tracy assured me.

Still, the auditions were brutal. The site where they were held was nothing special-looking; an empty warehouse in Brooklyn with a makeshift stage set up surrounded by hot lights, huge fans, and mics. Very spartan. Still, more brutal than any others I had ever gone through. I must have run through a dozen scenes and lost count of the number of times. After my fiftieth run-through, the casting director crooked his finger at me and I went eagerly over to him. The other actresses hung back and eyed me curiously.

He was thin and wiry, with shaggy dark blond hair and an equally unkempt beard. His round framed glasses immediately put me in mind of John Lennon, except he spoke with a decided midwestern accent. He was tapping his pencil against a clipboard as I joined him.

He glanced up at me, his pale grey eyes intense. "Miss Landor. Julie. Your readings were very good." His eyes traveled all over my face, then down my body and back up to my hair.

I self-consciously smoothed it down with my hand. "Thanks, Mr. Grissom."

He looked back down at his clipboard and checked a few items off. "Call me John," he said distractedly.

I nodded. "OK. John."

He looked back up, his eyes going once again to my hair. "Is that your natural color?" he asked pointing at it with his pencil.

Again, I touched it nervously. "Um, yes."

He nodded. "Would you be against going a few shades darker?" he asked. Then clarified, "For the part."

"Oh!" I was taken aback. Did this mean...what I thought it meant? "Um, no. Not at all. Whatever you need."

He grinned down at his clipboard and scribbled something. "Well, Julie, looks like you're just about set for the part then. You have an agent I hope?"

I stared at him. "Really?" I asked, forgetting not to gush.

He looked amused however. "Really, Julie. Is this your first TV role?"

I nodded, still amazed at my luck. "Well," I amended. "I've done a few commercials."

John nodded, his smile pleasant. "I thought your face looked familiar. You're pretty much what we're looking for...you have the voice, the accent, the tall, athletic build, your eyes are perfect, so is your facial bone structure..." He chuckled and shook his head as I blushed under his blunt observations. "Just get you into hair and makeup, do your color, and you'll be perfect."