Sweetie darlings

Well overdue for a new post!  This time I'm not at Fabs, but snuggled up at home in my tracky dacks as the sun sets and Milo - the cat - cleans himself.  He likes to do this at the apex of two doorways, for maximum exposure.

There's something undeniably hilarious about a cat cleaning itself.  I think it's the surrender of dignity for the sake of necessity.  There's just nothing elegant about licking your stomach, let alone the dried up nuggets of fur that used to contain your balls.

So, anyway, I scored the Absolutely Fabulous shoot at USC.  This was an exercise for the director - Michelle - in calling the shots in a studio with three cameras, which is the standard set-up for sitcoms.  The whole class participated, taking on various roles from camera operation to vision switching to looking after the props.  I played Patsy - the Joanna Lumley character - and an American actress, Angela, played Edina.  She did an excellent British accent, in fact I forgot she wasn't English.  We had a ball, lots of sweetie darlings and sipping of sparkling cider (standing in for the Bolly, darling) and physical comedy.  This isn't something I'll be able to add to my reel, but it was such fun, totally worth it.

On Monday night I joined my friend Bruna at a rehearsed reading -  a fundraiser for the Red Cross - of a play called 110 Stories.  It's kind of like The Laramie Project, if any of you know that play.  The script is a series of testimonials from survivors of the 9/11 attacks on New York; from office workers in the two towers, to firemen called to the buildings, and people involved in the clean-up such as a woman working with a cadaver dog (a dog trained to find dead bodies, buried in the rubble) and a masseur who helped treat the firemen, iron workers and other physical labourers on site.  It was fascinating - if a little too long in the end - and gave me insight into aspects of the event and its aftermath that I hadn't considered before.  Such as debris falling from the buildings that flattened people on the street, and the high incidence of lung disease and respiratory problems among those who participated in the clean up.  The air was highly toxic with a cocktail of aviation fuel, dust and the fumes of so much melted metal, glass and plastic.

Tuesday night was my regular acting class: The Sport of Acting.  This week we did an on-camera exercise, taking a significant moment from a monologue we've been working on, and delivering it on camera.  The idea is partly to simulate the experience of the disjointed manner in which film and TV is recorded.  Sometimes you do the wideshot of a scene and then the close-up is done the next day.  Or maybe you start with the close-up, the big moment, then you do the rest of the scene.  So Vinny gave us a workout in finding fast and effective ways to get into that moment, the questions to ask yourself to focus you and remind you where you are and where you're coming from, and tips on creating entry and exit points for maximum effect.  We did several takes, with Vinny coaching, and then watched the difference between our first 'undirected' take and the last, learning along the way how much work we must do as actors to hit the best take.  Ideally, you want to be able to do your best in the first one or two takes because on a TV set particularly (especially as a guest player, as opposed to a series regular) that is all you're gonna get.  It was great to watch other people working too, especially one of the more experienced actors in the group, Dedee, who has done a LOT of professional work.  This woman has had guest roles on Seinfeld and Friends, was a regular on Cybill and has appeared in several feature films.  It's humbling to see someone with this level of talent and experience still coming to class and working on her craft.

The fine art of auditioning

A busy, actorly week with rehearsals, three auditions and one callback.  And I got my feedback from the agent showcase last week.  Wow, it was really positive, constructive and flattering.  Again, got a thumbs up for my American accent, but even better were comments on my quirky, comedic talents - my strength - that I will find success in sitcom/comedy, and that while my headshot looks like me and is age appropriate, that I'm much cuter in person!  I'm blown away and trying not to get too excited.  It doesn't mean they will sign me.  But definitely worth following up (tick) and adds to the growing pile of general feedback I'm getting from other actors I meet in workshops that comedy is my strength in this market.  Good, something to focus on.  And another reason to make my own webseries and/or short films.  There's a lot of terrible 'comedy' out there, I know I can do better than at least some of it!

Monday afternoon I auditioned for a USC student film.  These tend to be reliably well-run as USC's film course is professional, highly competitive and well-regarded.  George Lucas is a notable alum.  'Lost Girls', the saucy little film I did in November, was a USC graduate student project.  The audition - thankfully - was held in Hollywood rather than on-campus which from Sherman Oaks is a multi-highway nightmare across town.  CAZT is a casting house without resident casting directors.  Tucked away in a converted warehouse, five casting rooms are available off a spacious waiting room.  When you arrive, you check the noticeboards next to each room to find the project you're auditoning for and sign in.  Apparently the great thing about CAZT for independent casting directors is that it charges minimal rent (possibly none), instead making its money by offering actors the chance to view their auditions online.  For a fee.  No obligation, but it's there if you want it.  Being available online, it is also handy for casting directors to access and show to producers etc.  A neat idea.  Testament to my growing network in Los Angeles, I bumped into another actress I know, who was auditioning for something else.  We met at TVI and have discovered a mutual fondness for Aroma, one of my favourite cafes in Studio City, where we've also bumped into each other, enjoying the sunshine on the terrace.  Always nice to see a familiar face in a waiting room; we're so happy and relaxed and plugged in darling!  Long story short, audition went well and I got a callback.

Tuesday I found myself in the nightmare, trekking across town to another USC audition on campus.  USC is vast and feels like a combination of Melbourne Uni and Monash with its mix of old stone buildings and more modern structures.  There were some major roadworks going on along one side of the campus and I got a bit bamboozled.  Found my way to the right place just on time but wondered what the hell I was doing there.  I was about to audition for the role of the mother of an 18 year old.  Either I didn't read the breakdown (description of the role) properly or they left out the detail of the son's age.  Whatever, there I was.  The director seemed impressed - "you're a great actress," he said - but also acknowledged that I looked too young to be an 18 year old's mother.  Technically, I'm not (don't tell anyone), but Thank You!  Didn't get that one.  Which I'll take as a compliment.

Number three audition this week - not for USC - was for a role described as a high-class call girl/Sarah Palin type (I didn't know there was such a 'type', but you live and learn) who is CRAZY.  Okay, sounds like fun.  It's basically a stoner comedy about two guys trying to light their bong and being visited by an array of kooky characters/hallucinations.  Not the height of comedy if you ask me, but what do I know?  The audition turned out to be a cattle call.  Everyone more or less turned up at once, some even before the director.  His assistant was late so there was no sign-in sheet until one of the actors decided to create one for the sake of everyone's sanity.  At one point the director emerged to address the growing throng and ask who among us had time constraints so he could see them first.  Are you kidding?  Nobody wanted to see someone who arrrived 30 minutes after them get in earlier.  We informed the dude that a sign-in sheet had been established and we were happy to stick with that order.  It's not a good sign when the "cattle" are more organised than the "caller".  Once again, I bumped into someone I know, a fellow actor from my regular class.  Then it was my turn to spin some magic in an impersonal concrete room in front of a couple of people who have yet to show me they know what they're doing.  It's a short scene - couple of pages - and there's a natural point at which the character goes from being quirky to outright nuts.  The director stopped three lines in, just before that point.  "Can you be more crazy, like bi-polar, like really extreme?", or words to that effect.  Sure.  Wait two more lines.  That was yesterday.  I haven't heard back yet which probably means I don't have a callback, which is fine.  I'm not sure I want to do it anyway.  When you're not being paid, you at least want to feel like it's worth your while.

Just got a call from another USC student who is casting for an exercise in working with three cameras (standard sitcom set-up).  She's using an Absolutely Fabulous script, so hell yeah, I'm interested!  What fun! Audition tomorrow.

Raising eyebrows

Beaten Hearts is really up and running now.  On Monday the cast assembled - with new member Max, another recruit from The Sport of Acting, my Tuesday night class - and read through the plays, switching roles around as Cindy figured out the final casting of each one.  It's great to see it starting to take shape as I envisage these talented actors making these familiar roles their own.  As the only non-American in the ensemble, I will be adopting an American accent for all but one of my characters.  The line-up of plays differs slightly to the original Beaten Hearts, but remains a mix of comic and dramatic explorations of love found and lost, unrequited and avenged.  It's a bittersweet show, just how I like it.

On Wednesday I had a personal trainer session, one of those freebies one gets when first joining a gym, a sampler to encourage you to pay for more.  PT is where the gym really makes its money, considering how cheap membership is.  Amber certainly put me through my paces, but the most startling discovery was my percentage body fat.  I'm not going to reveal it in a public forum, but suffice to say it is just above what is considered 'average'.  I have a fairly small frame so I guess that disguises it, but my goodness!  I knew I had lost condition over the last few months - yoga is great but as a cardio, fat-burning workout it can't compete with Step and Pump classes - but this was still a shock.  Not to worry, since joining the gym three weeks ago, I have committed to working out 6 days a week (including yoga class). 

Thursday night was part two of the agent showcase.  The two representatives present seemed less exhausted than those last week.  Once again, I arrived early to claim one of the first few audition times, and elected not to go first this time, but third.  This gave me more time to get jittery before entering the room, but as sometimes happens in these situations, once I started performing I felt calm and in control.  I really enjoyed playing the scene and felt like I hit all the right beats.  This time I also brought in my spectacles to use like reading glasses (I was playing a lawyer).  It gave me an extra bit of 'business' (physical activity) and the chance to show the agents a different 'look'; glasses on, glasses off.  Specs are a novelty in actor-land, and very much stereotyped.  I'm happy to exploit that stereotype; intellectual/scientist/psychiatrist/the smart chick.   Bring it on! 

In the spirit of putting my best foot forward for the showcase - and the biz in general - I took Katherine's advice and gave my eyebrows the Hollywood treatment.  Nothing too drastic, but they look neater, more groomed, than before.  Shaping means plucking of course.  There are three main methods of executing this: tweezers, wax and thread.  Threading is considered the most gentle and is an intriguing art whereby a loop of cotton thread is rolled and twisted across the skin, capturing errant hairs in its path.  It's difficult to describe, but the sensation of the thread passing over ostensibly hairless areas (such as the forehead) where it picks up the very finest hairs, virtually invisible to the naked eye, is like a very mild electric shock.  It's a kind of massage, quite pleasant.  Tackling the tougher, visible hairs of the brow is another matter of course, and being a novice I found it a little painful.  But I'm sure I'll get used to it, like leg and bikini waxing.  Guys, are you still reading?  Unfortunately, tweezers were, inevitably, necessary to address certain recalcitrant hairs and for the precision end of the shaping.  I must say, when I viewed the result in a mirror, I was surprised (and somewhat relieved) to discover that less brow had been removed than I thought.

Good grooming

It's Superbowl Sunday.  Like the AFL Grand Final, there is much hullaballoo, party planning, beer consumption and team-theme-decorated junk food produced for this event.  It's all Greek to me, but this year the New Orleans Saints won and everyone seems pretty pleased about it.  My day, however, consisted of a sleep-in, a workout and a late lunch with my roommate Gina and her sister, who also lives in the building.

Backtrack to Tuesday and I met with Katherine, an Australian actress who moved to Los Angeles with her TV-director husband four years ago.  Through a Facebook group for Aussie actors in L.A., she offered her services as an adviser to newly arrived Aussies, helping us plug into the industry here.  She was a delightful font of information and practical advice, who thoroughly checked me out before our meeting - finding the Baggage website and via that to my resume and reel.  With which she was impressed.  Confident of my credentials and experience, she offered to refer me to her Commercial agent (unlike Oz, where we have one agent for every type of gig, in L.A. the industry is so large and the quantity of - well, everything - so great that most actors have separate agents representing them for Commercials and TV/film (confusingly called Theatrical).  A referral is a BIG help in separating one from the hundreds of other unrepresented hopefuls flooding an agency's mailbox.  Aside from directly acting-related advice - such as headshots, recommended classes and casting websites - Katherine also gave me tips on health insurance and the name of her eyebrow technician. 

Grooming - from hair and make-up to eyebrow shaping and manicures - is very important here; even non-actors tend to place a higher priority on nail maintenance than the average Aussie woman.  Of course, these services tend to be cheaper here, too, which helps.  I'm going to take the plunge and have my eyebrows shaped - nothing drastic, but a little sleeker.  Photos will be posted in due course.

On Thursday I did part one of an agent showcase.  This was a paid opportunity to meet two agents and perform a prepared scene for them, show 'em what I'm made of.  I chose a lawyer/client scene (me playing the lawyer) which has some nice comic moments in it.  Basic dramedy (comedy/drama) material and well-written.  In preparation, I had my hair cut and blow-waved in the afternoon, feeling all swishy and gorgeous. One of the agents said right off the bat that she is not looking to sign any non-union actors (which eliminates me right now), but the other said he's open to it.  So I did my scene, it went well, I enjoyed it and the brief feedback the agents gave me was positive.  I got thumbs up for my choice of scene (suited to my type), my headshot (looks like me) and my authentic-sounding American accent (if they hadn't seen my resume, they'd have assumed I was American).  Cool.  Two more agents, same time next week.

On Friday, I rehearsed with Alex and Suzanne, the two other actresses in Beaten Hearts L.A.  Cindy, our director, put us through our paces; she is taking my favourite Bridgette Burton monologue and weaving it between the three of us.  Sometimes it feels like the three witches from Macbeth; Double, double, toil and trouble!  I think it's going to be pretty fabulous.

During the week I went to see Crazy Heart, the film about a burned out, alcoholic country singer for which Jeff Bridges won the Golden Globe for Best Actor and is nominated for an Oscar.  Well deserved.  It's a really good film (lovely performance from Maggie Gyllenhall too) and Bridges is superb.  He's my tip for the golden bald guy.

This week I also got online and applied for a few writing/editing/proofreading jobs.  Fingers crossed.  I check every day.  Sometimes there's a few suitable things, sometimes none.  I'm still hopeful of finding something that utilises my specialised skills; they are the jobs that pay better and that I will derive some pleasure and satisfaction from, be it acting, writing, editing or proofreading.  I'm good at that stuff!

Barking at the ceiling

Busy week.  I've already told you about being paid to drink, and that was just on Monday.  Tuesday night with Vinny rocked as usual, and I've been getting to the gym regularly.  In fact, I've been so keen for cardio blasting I've been hitting the treadmill, jogging for half and hour then doing some free weights and abs. And yoga at Black Dog once a week.  The squidgey feeling is being banished!

On Thursday night the Beaten Hearts cast and director assembled at my place for a read-through.  Final casting of each piece is yet to be decided, as is the final line-up of plays.  Five plays are locked in, and Cindy is tossing up between a couple of others.  We had a jolly evening over scripts, chardonnay and cheese, and everyone seems enthusiastic about the show.  I'm thrilled.  Gina went to bed early and I don't know how but she slept through our riotous laughter and splendid actorly vocal projection.  The only thing that roused her was Milo the cat tapping at her window to let him in.  Amazing the noises we can tune out, and those that will wake us no matter how soft they are. 

We presently have an issue with the nocturnal habits of our upstairs neighbour.  To be fair, it's not that he's some party animal making a racket in the middle of the night, but the soundproofing between our ceiling and his floor is inadequate.  We can hear every squeak of the floorboards with every step he takes.  And he seems to take a LOT of them, restlessly roaming his apartment into the wee hours of the morning.  One would think - or hope - such habits would see him at least sleep in, but no, we find our slumber disturbed yet again by vigorously squeaking floorboards as early as 7am.  At 2 o'clock this morning I found myself fantasising that every step he took shot excruciating jolts of white-hot pain through his feet.  Doesn't this guy ever SIT?  Or SLEEP?  Alas this apartment block, for all its charms, is old and the ceilings are thin.

On Friday I attended a writers' workshop; a networking opportunity and another avenue of gaining insight into this crazy industry.  The workshop was attended by roughly 50 writers, there for the chance to pitch their brilliant feature film script at three panels of influential industry insiders; producers and agents.  I was there to suss out the possibilities of being a script reader and coverage writer.  With no precious screenplay to pitch, I was not wracked with nerves as were most of the people in the room.  The pitching itself was conducted anonymously; the writers submitted one page summaries and loglines, some of which were read aloud for everyone to hear and the guest professionals to comment on.  A logline is a one to two sentence summary of the script and the film it hopes to be.  It is therefore something of an art in itself to create to great logline as it must not only give you the basic concept and storyline but a sense of the style of the piece (genre and tone).  Not easy.  It was FASCINATING to hear them.  Very few grabbed the panelists' attention in a good way and their feedback was BRUTALLY honest.  For my part, I got chatting with Susan, a writer who edits a scriptwriters group newsletter (amongst several other writerly projects), and Jim who freelances as a coverage writer.  Both were helpful in providing encouragement and suggestions as to how I might gain coverage writing training and experience.  Writers agents and producers alike employ interns to read scripts, but interns must be college students who can earn credit for their work.  The studios can't 'employ' anyone for free (aka an intern) who doesn't get something out of it (such as college credit).  Yeah, well I'm sure there's ways around that, and one of the producers I spoke to suggested as much.  Ultimately of course I want to be paid for my services, but I'm willing to 'intern' or train for free if it gets me in the door.  One of the panels facilitated Q&A by hosting a table each and rotating around the room.  From the dozen or so loglines we heard, and some of the questions posed, I suspect that out of the 50-odd writers in attendance, about 40 are indeed quite odd and only half a dozen actually have a half decent screenplay to pitch.  Wild guestimate?  Yes.  Harsh?  Yes.  But the message came through loud and clear from the producers that at least 95% of the hundreds of scripts they receive each month are rubbish.  Perversely, it almost made me feel like I should write a screenplay, because I'm fairly sure I could produce something better than most of the precious pages being clung to in that room.  Arrogant and presumptuous?  Undoubtedly.  Am I actuallly going to write that brilliant screenplay?  Not right now.

Saturday morning greeted me with a new adventure;  applying for a Census job.  The U.S. 2010 Census is about to be unleashed on the American public and the Federal Government is seeking about a million people nationwide to fill 6-8 week part-time positions.  Stage one of application is to sit a multiple choice test of basic numeracy, comprehension and organisational skills.  I was sent to a nearby school to sit the test along with approximately 30 other individuals on Saturday morning.  There I got chatting with Sheila, a 70-something lady of very definite opinions, wearing a hot pink velour tracksuit and matching glitter-pink slippers.  Sheila owns five dogs.  She had seven, but that was really too much so she found homes for two of them.  Sheila is decidedly against mobile phones.  She was quick to spot a young applicant in the room using a quiet moment to start texting.  "The generation of instant gratification," she said.  "They don't know how to be alone."  Sheila told me she will make a point of involving herself in somebody's conversation if it is conducted on a cell phone in her presence.  She has received a punch in the arm for her efforts.  It was at a dog show. She is also impatient with the elderly and infirm, snorting and rolling her eyes at another applicant - more Sheila's vintage than the young texter - not as robust as herself.  Sheila is not wealthy, but has enough to live on, I intuit her husband is no longer in the picture (perhaps dead? long divorced?  driven away by canine excess?), but she adores her dogs like children.  She has earned the right to be a bitchy old lady.  Maybe I'll be like that one day.  Minus the dogs.

Getting dry, getting drunk and Stepping out

Saturday the rain finally stopped and we saw sunshine and blue sky for the first time in days.  Los Angelians poked their heads out of their sodden caves, blinking at the glistening roads and sidewalks, assessing the damage and scrambling to book plumbers and repairmen to clear blocked, overwhelmed drains and fill holes in roofs before the next dose of rain, forecast to arrive Tuesday.  In the morning I rose bright and early to attend a Step class at my new gym.  It was well worth the sleep deprivation;  the class was taught by Sue, whose classes I have attended on previous visits to L.A.  Nice to see a familiar face, especially one that puts together a great step routine.  Bliss!  I have missed Step a lot; I love yoga, and will continue to practice regularly, but the cardio high of step, on top of the pleasure I get from moving through a fun, choreographed routine, can't be beat.

Saturday evening I joined my friend Bruna at a screening of six short French films at Le Lycee Francais de Los Angeles.  Most attendees spoke French fluently, including Bruna and her friend Anjes (both born in France but now living in L.A.), and I stumbled through the niceties of collecting my ticket and procuring a glass of champagne in my limited schoolgirl French.  It was fun to have a little slice of Paris in L.A.  The films were pretty good, although the consensus was that the three before intermission were better than the final three.  Intermission was pretty good too, with wine and cheese served.  After the screening, the three of us went looking for somewhere to have a drink and a bite to eat.  We ended up at a French restaurant on Sunset Boulevard called Clafoutis.  I had eaten before heading out for the evening, but Bruna and Anjes were starving.  We spent a lively hour or so chatting merrily in French and English before heading home.

On Monday I participated in an alcohol study.  One of my actor friends from my Tuesday night class, Tim, works in a bar which periodically hosts these studies.  The aim of them is to test the accuracy of a new machine being developed to measure blood alcohol levels.  So I turned up at 9.30am, along with about 15 other guinea pigs, and by 11am I had consumed the equivalent of four mixed drinks.  We were blood-tested (with the experimental machine - sounds gothic, but it's non-invasive) and breathalised, served up two double-strength drinks each and then tested again about 45 minutes after finishing the drinks.  I blew 0.13.  Yep, I was buzzing but honestly I didn't enjoy it that much, it was simply too early.  At about 1.30pm we were fed and watered and then tested again.  This time I blew 0.09.  The BAC limit in California is 0.08 (compared to a more conservative 0.05 in Melbourne).  Tested again roughly an hour later and I blew 0.077.  I waited a while longer before driving home.  An interesting experience, but I won't do it again.  I got paid $50 for surrendering my body to science for a few hours, money with which I bought a microwave oven.  Gina, my roommate, doesn't own one but I am too used to the convenience of reheating food in a microwave to do without. Especially at that price!

Gotta go chickens, time to sweat it out at the gym :)

Wet wet wet

What a wild, wet week! L.A. has had a thorough soaking this week - or as a friend of mine put it, a gigantic enema - with heavy rain every day.  Winter is definitely here, after a slow start that saw skyfulls of sunshine through Christmas and New Year.  Truth be told, I'm a bit sick of all the rain after six consecutive days, but its still something to be celebrated and exclaimed upon.  Flooded streets in this sprawling desert city are a rare sight indeed.

I'm in a celebratory mood this evening, on a high after meeting with Cindy, who is to be the director of Beaten Hearts (L.A.).  We talked through the various scripts of mine and Bridgette's that I sent her as possibilities for the show - too many to all be included - and how the show may be shaped.  Next week we'll get the cast together for a read through.  Last night I saw a cabaret show, called GravityWorks, in Hollywood, which was designed as a showcase for twelve talented but unknown actors.  It was an energetic, frequently hilarious, evening's entertainment, and served as further inspiration and impetus to push forward with Beaten Hearts.  Which will be a different kettle of fish; theatre rather than cabaret.  Cindy has some great ideas for the show, and feels like a perfect fit for Baggage Productions.  I'm flattered and excited by the interest and enthusiasm of Cindy, and the other actors I've recruited, for the scripts and the show.  I'm so lucky to have found a group of talented, like-minded individuals so soon.  One of my cast-members, Suzanne, recently lauched a webseries that she wrote and starred in, called Playing Dead.  It's very funny and well-produced and has me inspired to create a webseries of my own, or at least make short films of some of my short plays.

In the meantime, the agent hunt continues.  I mailed copies of my headshot and resume to 12 handpicked agents - with the help of a monthly published report on agents and who/what they are looking for, and Regi's guidance and encouragement.  I followed up with polite phone calls a few days later, but so far no bites.  It's so frustrating!  This is the tough part for me.  I've got lots of energy for pushing forward a project like Beaten Hearts, but knocking on doors and selling myself requires a different kind of hard-nosed energy.  Uncomfortable, but necessary.  Ugh, I hate it!  I feel that my resume is a poor reflection of my potential.  Being non-union at this stage also plays against me somewhat.  Please, somebody sign me up and get me some auditions!  My audition to callback/booking ratio is pretty good, I just need to get in the room.  Lemme at it!

I joined a gym this week, the better to increase my cardio exercise.  There are so many nationally franchised gyms here, membership rates are highly competitive and much cheaper than Melbourne (I'm paying less than half the rate per month, and have access to Bally gyms nationwide).  On Thursday morning I checked out a HiLo class - old school aerobics.  L.A. doesn't experience the same rush hours as other cities, on the roads or in the gyms.  The class was at 8.45am and was packed (about 70 participants), as was the rest of the gym, from weight training equipment to cardio machines.  Apart from the size of the class, the most notable thing about its participants was their age.  I've never seen so many over 60s in an aerobics class.  I kid you not, there were about half a dozen who had to be over 70.  In fact, we sang Happy Birthday to a gentleman called Al, who was celebrating his 80th.  So I knew the choreography was not going to be complex.  Nonetheless, I worked it hard and produced a good sweat.  This morning I attended a class called "Straight Up Strength", kind of like a Pump class, based around lifting light-to-medium weights at high repetitions.  This was at another location within the gym's franchise, in Studio City, and had a lower average participant age.  Unlike the other location, in Encino (about equi-distant from Sherman Oaks), the group exercise studio had some natural light and views of the street (or at least the parking lot), which I preferred to the enclosed, cave-like experience at the HiLo class in Encino.  I must say though, that after the meticulous, form-conscious intruction of Pump classes I used to take at Genesis in Prahran, Straight Up Strength felt rather slap-dash.  If I'd never worked with weights before, I could easily have injured myself, especially with exercises that combined two muscle groups; such as doing bicep curls while balancing on one leg and raising the other (thus working the bicep and the outer thigh/buttock simultaneously).  Try it - that's a lot to think about all at once!