IT'S THIRD GRADE DODGEBALL ALL OVER AGAIN
August 18, 2013
A rainy Sunday
This is one of those dreary days-weather-wise and emotionally.
It's one of those days when i'm full of self-doubt and questioning just what the Hell am I doing doing what I'm doing.
For someone who has never really been comfortable with the way he looks, I find myself questioning my decision to once again throw myself into a business where looks are so important.
And believe me...I know exactly who I am and where I stand.
I'm 48. I'm 6'3 and right about 231 pounds.
I have a little more real estate on my forehead than I used to.
I am not the leading man type.
I comfortable knowing I'm the chubby best friend who is either an alcoholic, gay or who will eventually get killed halfway through the movie but by my death inspire the leading man (in a most excellent montage of working out and gathering weapons ever) to seek revenge on those who did me in....
It's okay. I'm comfortable with that. Some major stars have started out as the chubby, goofy-looking best friend and gone on to huge success.
It's hard though.
The toughest thing to come to grips with?
When you are in a room of young, good-looking people and the A.D. is looking for bodies to fill out a scene.
You are, as someone in my position, immediately transported back to the playground and teams are being assembled for kickball.
"Pick me! 'Pick me!' you scream on the inside while on the outside you are remaining calm and professional. But still...the goofy, chubby kid is picked last.
It's shitty. It happens. It's truth.
It's superficial.
It's a fact I have to come to grips with or I will get crushed under my own insecurities.
I read somewhere that as an actor, I have to know who I am.
For such a superficial industry, that is a really deep thing to accomplish.
So...WHO am I?
I know I'm a nice guy but nice guys finish last don't they?
Still...even though I have prickish moments-I am not a prick.
I conduct myself in a professional manner on set. I don't push myself in front of others for a second of screen time. Maybe I should though.
Doesn't the squeaky wheel...no. Sorry. I can't go there.
I have a code of ethics I will continue to guide myself with and I will not step on toes or push someone out of the way.
(That goes to you Ms. 4 inches Forward Every Time We Shoot Another Take)
I'm a nice guy.
I'm a big guy. Tall and broad.
I doubt you will ever see me in the credits listed as PETITE Male Nurse.
I'm a character actor.
I can be anybody you want to....except that is...5'5 and 156 pounds.
Although I have dreams of being the swash-buckling, suave leading man, I will more than likely be the leading man's friend...or boss...or doctor...or plumber...or whatever...it doesn't matter.
I have to know who I am on camera. Know who I am and own it. Own it, sell it and better myself every time I work. No matter the job or character.
I guess I'm having a hard time right time because there's been a lot of rejection lately. Not really rejection, I guess, but more...nothing.
Lots of emails being sent.
Not a lot of phone calls as a result.
I have to toughen up and quit being such a pussy about it.
I'm currently working out with my wife at a local gym. I'm trying to tone up after my back surgery. I feel like Captain Jell-O right now.
Worst superhero name ever. Right?
Captain Jell-O. And his trusty companion AMBROSIA BOY!!!
I'm planning on having new headshots taken.
Headshots are the business card that get you recognized and get your foot in the door. They could call them 'footshots' then..right? Just stands to reason.
I hate photos of myself.
I hate seeing myself on screen.
Two more things I need to get over.
FUCK. I AM A NEUROTIC MESS.
Maybe I could bill myself as 'The Woody Allen for The 2000's.'
There are quite a few actors who never watch their films.
Robert Redford is one.
Robert DeNiro is another.
They make a movie and they move on.
I think though, that's it more a case of 'That project is over-I have to move on. I am no longer that character. Those energies are no longer necessary.'
I can't imagine, especially in Redford's case, that it's about the way they look.
I've seen my face on a movie screen.
It's like something from a 1950's B movie.
THE HEAD THAT DEVOURED DETROIT.
Pumpkinhead?
Trust me. When I first saw that movie being advertised I thought it was going to be about my melon.
Critics, who know nothing about me, will say I have a big head. It has nothing to do with my ego. It's got everything to do with this crab soccer ball perched precariously on my neck.
See.
That's the shit I need to get over.
Yeah.
So what. I have a big head. It's not Minnie Driver big-but it's big.
So I will spend the next few days obsessing about jobs I hope to get and jobs I know I won't get. I will work out and continue to tone and strengthen.
I will check websites for casting notices.
I will send emails and then check my IN-BOX every five minutes until the posted shoot date has come and gone.
Then I will do all over again.
It's the job. It's the life.
Now...if you'll excuse me.
I have to jump in the shower and wash my hair.
Neighbor children have all gathered with buckets and sponges to help me get the job done so i shouldn't keep them waiting.
Big head. Get it?
keeping it reel
copyright 2013
A rainy Sunday
This is one of those dreary days-weather-wise and emotionally.
It's one of those days when i'm full of self-doubt and questioning just what the Hell am I doing doing what I'm doing.
For someone who has never really been comfortable with the way he looks, I find myself questioning my decision to once again throw myself into a business where looks are so important.
And believe me...I know exactly who I am and where I stand.
I'm 48. I'm 6'3 and right about 231 pounds.
I have a little more real estate on my forehead than I used to.
I am not the leading man type.
I comfortable knowing I'm the chubby best friend who is either an alcoholic, gay or who will eventually get killed halfway through the movie but by my death inspire the leading man (in a most excellent montage of working out and gathering weapons ever) to seek revenge on those who did me in....
It's okay. I'm comfortable with that. Some major stars have started out as the chubby, goofy-looking best friend and gone on to huge success.
It's hard though.
The toughest thing to come to grips with?
When you are in a room of young, good-looking people and the A.D. is looking for bodies to fill out a scene.
You are, as someone in my position, immediately transported back to the playground and teams are being assembled for kickball.
"Pick me! 'Pick me!' you scream on the inside while on the outside you are remaining calm and professional. But still...the goofy, chubby kid is picked last.
It's shitty. It happens. It's truth.
It's superficial.
It's a fact I have to come to grips with or I will get crushed under my own insecurities.
I read somewhere that as an actor, I have to know who I am.
For such a superficial industry, that is a really deep thing to accomplish.
So...WHO am I?
I know I'm a nice guy but nice guys finish last don't they?
Still...even though I have prickish moments-I am not a prick.
I conduct myself in a professional manner on set. I don't push myself in front of others for a second of screen time. Maybe I should though.
Doesn't the squeaky wheel...no. Sorry. I can't go there.
I have a code of ethics I will continue to guide myself with and I will not step on toes or push someone out of the way.
(That goes to you Ms. 4 inches Forward Every Time We Shoot Another Take)
I'm a nice guy.
I'm a big guy. Tall and broad.
I doubt you will ever see me in the credits listed as PETITE Male Nurse.
I'm a character actor.
I can be anybody you want to....except that is...5'5 and 156 pounds.
Although I have dreams of being the swash-buckling, suave leading man, I will more than likely be the leading man's friend...or boss...or doctor...or plumber...or whatever...it doesn't matter.
I have to know who I am on camera. Know who I am and own it. Own it, sell it and better myself every time I work. No matter the job or character.
I guess I'm having a hard time right time because there's been a lot of rejection lately. Not really rejection, I guess, but more...nothing.
Lots of emails being sent.
Not a lot of phone calls as a result.
I have to toughen up and quit being such a pussy about it.
I'm currently working out with my wife at a local gym. I'm trying to tone up after my back surgery. I feel like Captain Jell-O right now.
Worst superhero name ever. Right?
Captain Jell-O. And his trusty companion AMBROSIA BOY!!!
I'm planning on having new headshots taken.
Headshots are the business card that get you recognized and get your foot in the door. They could call them 'footshots' then..right? Just stands to reason.
I hate photos of myself.
I hate seeing myself on screen.
Two more things I need to get over.
FUCK. I AM A NEUROTIC MESS.
Maybe I could bill myself as 'The Woody Allen for The 2000's.'
There are quite a few actors who never watch their films.
Robert Redford is one.
Robert DeNiro is another.
They make a movie and they move on.
I think though, that's it more a case of 'That project is over-I have to move on. I am no longer that character. Those energies are no longer necessary.'
I can't imagine, especially in Redford's case, that it's about the way they look.
I've seen my face on a movie screen.
It's like something from a 1950's B movie.
THE HEAD THAT DEVOURED DETROIT.
Pumpkinhead?
Trust me. When I first saw that movie being advertised I thought it was going to be about my melon.
Critics, who know nothing about me, will say I have a big head. It has nothing to do with my ego. It's got everything to do with this crab soccer ball perched precariously on my neck.
See.
That's the shit I need to get over.
Yeah.
So what. I have a big head. It's not Minnie Driver big-but it's big.
So I will spend the next few days obsessing about jobs I hope to get and jobs I know I won't get. I will work out and continue to tone and strengthen.
I will check websites for casting notices.
I will send emails and then check my IN-BOX every five minutes until the posted shoot date has come and gone.
Then I will do all over again.
It's the job. It's the life.
Now...if you'll excuse me.
I have to jump in the shower and wash my hair.
Neighbor children have all gathered with buckets and sponges to help me get the job done so i shouldn't keep them waiting.
Big head. Get it?
keeping it reel
copyright 2013
Comments
Post a Comment