Remember that one time that I discussed infomercials? Slash how far an actor would go/when it would be "enough"/the importance of being able to get behind your projects? Slash how much it would suck to become Gonorrhea-girl? Which was really just a roundabout way of discussing what you're willing to let yourself get known for, the way in which you're willing to put yourself out there...Remember all that?
Well. Yesterday was fun.
Yesterday, I auditioned for a contraceptive commercial.
This wasn't actually my first time (...heh heh...hehhhh...) around the "I bang"-commercial block, I actually auditioned for a Trojan-vibrator commercial last year. ...Also fun.
But no no, this was an entirely different deal altogether. This audition was for a morning after pill.
This says "I indeed bang, but there was an oops. An OOPS--and I need something to prevent a further 'oops'."
And ok: it's not that this is a project that I can't get behind--of course I can, of COURSE! I can--but it's just...it's funny. The idea of Me in a contraceptive commercial. Me. Awkward quirky character-featured Me in an ad not just about...(...sexxxx...), but about screwing (...hehheh...hehhh...) that up.
Such ads that involve a forlorn-slightly-panicky-looking lady laying around with a "What NOW?!"-face in her bright airy loft, later moving through a medicine aisle while looking marginally terrified and dazily thumbing through wee pill box after wee pill box, later moving through skyscrapery cases in a book store dazily thumbing through random books with a slight sense of relief over her face, before finally moving to some cute outdoor bistro where she sits outside sipping on cosmos with her other equally-as-relieved non-pregnant friends. You know, those ads. It's a pretty known pseudo-solid formula.
And am I JUDGING those ads? Hell no! That's just....that's just what they are. Like always. But, you know, the notion of Me being in one...
...And again, I would never turn that down, ever. Ever. Why would I?! It's not that, it's just...it'd be funny.
I'm not really the dismayed-Sex-is-really-effing-serious-type.
In the audition notice that I received Monday night, it said the following:
"Must be comfortable talking about contraception."
(Well, I mean, sure. Why not, right? OK. OK, fine, I'm shameless, I lack a censor button, I've been naked, regularly...albeit a long time ago, but I get it, and that's fine. That's fine. Yay, sex. Let's talk about it. ...And sell stuff.)
"If you have a boyfriend and who is interested, please bring him to casting. Please let us know his name beforehand so we can notify casting."
(... ... ...)
A lot of the time, I find myself getting increasingly more bummed over the fact that there is still an 1100-mile distance between said boyfriend and I. In this instance, however...I mean, I can in no way envision going into an audition setting like that with him. You might as well lock us in a room with a circus clown who says, "Alright, kids, talk to me about poop. Tell me about your poop. POOOOOOOOP!" We would have turned into absolute children 5 seconds in.
"Well, in our moments of intimacy..."
YEAH! Intimacy!!! We do it sometimes. Uhh!!!
"Um--yeahhhhhYeahhhh! Bangin!!!"
So MUCH of it!!!
"Lots! We keep like a talley...well...we did..."
YEAH! TALLIES!!! When we...lived...in the same...
“Look at yer butt!”
Not now.
"…Yeah, and, but know what?! No! Babies!"
YEAH! So much bangin, positively no babies!!!
"Uhhh."
UHHH!
"Hahahahaha"Hahahahaaaaa!!!! AND a fist bump. Or something.
It would not have boded well for the casting director, for our careers...or our reputations, by and large.
So, in I walk Tuesday morning, having practiced my "forlorn"-face the night before and feeling as confident as any girl (who spends 98.25% of the year growing her virginity back) could walking into a morning after pill-audition. And it's fine. Everyone waiting is normal looking, everyone in the room has undoubtedly banged sometime, some are there auditioning as a couple (... ...), some of us are there alone...
(...Pffft. This is fiiiiiiiiine, piece of cake.)
I grab the script and get to work:
"Last night, my birth control failed me." (Oh goddammit, REALLY?!)
Fifteen minutes later, I walk in with this beautiful Midwestern-looking tall drink of water. We're going on camera together, as "friends".
"Alright, girls, tell me a little bit about yourself. Where you're from, how long you've been in the city, what you like to do in your spare time."
The tall drink of water goes first, and she's totally charming. Smiling, giggling, talking super articulately and with such ease about growing up in Pennsylvania and her fencing practice.
(I don't fence. Should I? Would that help my case because it's kinda...sexual? Because of the long things that you thwart and...thrust...and everythingdammitIdon'tknow.)
"Alright, Angela, tell us about yourself."
Wellllll, I'm from the Finger Lakes...
"Oh! I was just there! It's beautiful!"
Right?! I know! Where were you?
"Oh. I don't know. I mean...somewhere....".
...
OK. Well, that's where I'm from. And...ummm...I got here essentially like 2-and-a-half years ago, but really 2 because. I. Subletted here rightaftergrad school. And then. Moved here. For real, liiiiiiiiiiike two years agoandit'sreallyfunandIloveithereandtrytoauditionasmuch as I can. Um. Iloveworkingout. A lot. And. ... ...I love cooking.
"Oooh! Cooking!"
...Yeah...
"You sound like you're a little embarrassed about that."
Oh. (Ack!) No! Not at all! I just...I'm a bit of a novice but I'd love to, like, Paula Deen myself. (...What?) I really like chopping garlic. (WHAT?!?!) Uhhhh... (...Get. It. Together.) Um...
"Let's move on." (SHIT!) "Talk to me about your personal experiences with both birth control and emergency contraception."
And then I was off. Like a shot. I didn't even give the other chick an opportunity to think, I just launched right in and fuh-king ran with it. Maybe it was just my desperate attempt to redeem myself. Maybe it was just my desperate attempt to remind myself that I was, at one time, a sexual being. ...Mayhaps both.
I OWNED that segment. Hard.
(Yessssssssssssssss.)
"OK, ladies, great. Let's take a look at the lines." (Eeeeeee...). "Have a seat on this bench, you're friends, you can be friendly."
Sure!
Of course!
"Great. You start with the first one and go every other, and Angela, you take the second line, go every other...you get it."
OK, sure!
"Now. These lines aren't, like, 'life or death', but they're not cheeky either. Let's see what you do."
(Hmmm...OK...).
We breathe, get comfy, smile at each other--genuinely--scootch closer and decide to do the damn thing.
We breathe, get comfy, smile at each other--genuinely--scootch closer and decide to do the damn thing.
"OK, we're rolling. And. Action."
Last night, my birth control failed me.
But I know what to get.
One-Step Emergency Contraception!
And, I know where to go. Watch me!
(...and so on...)
"OK. Not so fun." (Crap.) "More, like, serious, like...tough cookie Maria Bello-ish." (Wait. Am I accosting people about emergency contraception?!) "Just think 'tough'. And you don't actually know each other, don't look at each other, don't refer to one another. You're on the same bench, but foreign, you don't know each other." (K...We're complete strangers.). And our octaves drop and we both stare directly into the camera. Shit gets serious.
"Two tough broads on a bench, and action."
"Two tough broads on a bench, and action."
Last night: my birth control failed me.
But. I know what to get.
One-Step Emergency. Contraception.
And, I know where to go. (Pause. Lean forward.) Watch. Me.
(Etcetera.)
"And cut. PERFECT!" (Whaaat?!) "Thanks, Ladies!"
...And that was that. The two of us look at each other, equally as perplexed, and walk out of the studio. We take that long awkward walk down the corridor together to that long awkward elevator ride--that moment when you really really just want to be alone, but are still forced to be in the same intimate space with one another. (Do we talk? Do I...say anything to her? I mean, after what we just did...)...
So. Was it good for you?
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