Less is more, more or less

Picking up where I left off last week, on Sunday I bundled Sophie onto a bus to the fabulous Getty art museum while I squeezed in a step class before rehearsing with Jerry again on his short film.  After a day of activity, in the evening we got too comfy to go out, instead improvising a hearty salad from leftovers in the fridge, washed down with a cold beer, trading travel stories with Gina.  Monday morning Sophie and I went to a diner for breakfast (french toast with bananas and walnuts - Sophie; blueberry oatmeal pancakes - moi) and then Gina took her on a tour of some of the leafy, monied parts of L.A. while I went to a Beaten Hearts rehearsal.  More fun with Murphy, finishing the choreography for Love Song in Black.  In the evening, Soph and I went out to the local Mexican bar, El Torito.  It's right across the parking lot from good old TVI (referred to by some as the Evil Empire), where I studied during my first visit to L.A., and is therefore a kind of personal, pop-cultural landmark.  Later that night I dropped Sophie at LAX from where she embarked on her next adventure. 

The rest of the week was a blur of rehearsals, production meetings and workouts, punctuated by a visit to my eyebrow lady for some maintenance.  Celebrity sighting for the week was Brian George, better known as Babu Bhatt from Seinfeld (he of the agile, finger waving admonishment).  He's looking more like John Mahoney these days than a hapless Pakistani, and "blessed" me when I sneezed - ah, hayfever!  On Sunday I completed my voiceover reel, thanks to the invaluable help of Regi; coach with flair, technician with mad musical skills, patient friend.  The reel sounds professional and pretty damn good; a mix of my natural accent and American samples with a variety of commercial copy from 'slice of life' to seductive to insanely, annoyingly happy.  Now the quest for a voiceover agent begins!

This afternoon - Sunday in L.A. - I attended a workshop with Alex, who had been invited by one of her acting coaches.  It was an on-camera class with a film director, a free sample experience before he begins a formal series of workshops.  He handed out two-person scenes, but due to the number of people in attendance and the time constraint (only two hours) not everyone got the chance to get up and work.  Alex and I did, however.  Now, I'm not a total novice to working on camera, but I've much less experience with it than on stage and I know I need more practice.  I sure felt it today!  The less you do, the better it looks - providing there is something active going on in your mind.  Thoughts read.  The audience might not know what the thought is, but they'll know you're thinking something, and that's intriguing.  Man, my face jumps all over the place; even when I think I'm doing nothing, it's too much.  At least it was today.  Alex, however, did great.  Unfortunately, in today's "sampler" class, we didn't have the opportunity of watching back tape of our work and seeing the adjustments made (as will be the case if we sign up for a series of classes) but we were able to watch everyone else who got up in front of the camera as it was being projected onto a sizable screen just above the actors' heads.  I want to sign up for this guy's class.

Rehearsals, thrills and a visitor

This week kicked off with a fabulous rehearsal for Beaten Hearts.  Cindy brought in a friend who is a professional actress/dancer/choreographer to choreograph 'Love Song in Black' and the transitions between each play.  Murphy was great; brimful of energy and ideas, working within the limits of our dancing abilities.  'Love Song' really came alive and we had a ball.  The transitions will also take the form of different dances, echoing the stories they precede and tying the whole show together.  We are truly privileged to have Murphy on board, adding to the collection of talents which will make this show - like it's first incarnation in Melbourne - so special.

Something else that made this week special was going to the screening of an independent film.  The film, called 'Blue' was written by Don Wallace, the husband of my roommate Gina's niece.  It's part boxing movie, part crime drama with a nod to Romeo & Juliet.  Produced on a micro-budget, it's an impressive piece of work; well-written and acted, tough and lean as a boxer.  The screening was to attract distributors and I hope it does because it deserves to find an audience.  The real thrill came from meeting Mathew St Patrick, one of the stars of Six Feet Under, who is an old friend of Don's.  He was very down to earth and lovely (not to mention weak-at-the-knees gorgeous), and I had a nice chat with both he and his assistant, a young British guy.  I didn't have my camera on me, so had to make do with the camera in my phone (hence the graininess of the image).  Did I mention I was thrilled?  I look like I'm about to jump out of my skin with delight.

This week I also had a couple of rehearsals for a new short film/pilot show written and directed by Jerry White, with whom I worked on 'Lost Girls' back in November.  Lovely to be invited to take part in his latest project, plus he's far more organised than the 'Don't Drink the Bong Water' guy - a project which has been delayed due to one of the leads pulling out, at this rate it will never get off the ground.  Jerry's idea for a TV show centres around an elderly man who decides after several years of celibacy to return to the dating scene.  You may be relieved to know I play a workmate, not a prospective love interest.

On Friday I met with Cindy to discuss music for Beaten Hearts.  We spent a couple of hours listening to various tracks and discussing Cindy's ideas for the transitions between each play.  Then I had a Skype date with Tiffany, always a pleasure my dear!  Later that night, cousin Sophie from Ballarat arrived in L.A., on route to South America.  My first official visitor!  Sophie has been travelling in India, so she and Gina had lots to talk about.  We made a cosy bed for her on the sofa, where she was swiftly joined by Milo the cat.  On Saturday morning I dragged her out to Theatricum Botanicum, an open-air theatre in a beautiful wooded area about 30 minutes drive from home, where I auditioned for their summer repertory season; Midsummer Night's Dream, Hamlet, The Three Musketeers and Masterclass.  I did my temper tantrum Capulet monologue from R&J - "God's bread, it makes me mad!" - which was fun.  Fingers crossed!

In the evening we met up with another friend of mine, Tatiana, for a bite to eat on Sunset Boulevard.  We took the scenic route through the Hollywood Hills and along the famous strip, a neon-lit avenue of music venues, nightclubs, bars, restaurants and high-end fashion boutiques.  Then we continued along to the quieter end of Sunset for a drink at The Cat and Fiddle, an English pub with a fabulous, leafy courtyard augmented by fairy lights and surrounded by Spanish-style buildings that add to the atmosphere.  We've been enjoying delightfully warm weather over the past week, so although it was cool in the evening, it wasn't uncomfortably so and we happily sat in the courtyard with our cocktails.

Hello sunshine

Another week flown by; I can't believe I've been here six months!  Incredible.  The job hunt continues, still no joy there and I confess it's making me anxious.  Aside from that life is good; rehearsals for Beaten Hearts are a joy and the production side of things is keeping me busy.  I'm also proofreading my roommate Gina's novel, which is very interesting and engaging; in short, a good read.  I'm tidying up her punctuation and grammar along the way.  I like to take the manuscript to a cafe and sit in the sunshine with a double espresso and my red pen.  It's rather pleasant and a kind of advertising; after all, in this town, having a coffee can be a networking opportunity and I've had more than one person ask me what I'm doing and then we have a chat about writing and editing, and sometimes exchange cards.  You never know who might lead to what or what might lead to who.

On Friday I auditioned for a commercial agent, so fingers crossed.  There were lots of hopeful actors waiting in the lobby, and they whipped through us efficiently, calling three actors into the inner sanctum at a time.  Then one by one we were ushered into a very small room - really tiny, it may once have been intended as a bathroom - in which I had to stand right up against the closed door to deliver my audition to camera.  The audition was a piece of commercial copy provided by the agency, a unisex piece with a few nice beats/changes of thought and pace to play.  I went in with my best Standard American accent and I have no idea whether or not I fooled the guy, as no chit chat was engaged in.  He didn't even introduce himself, it was all business; got your headshot? ok, stand there, look at the camera, when you're ready; ok, thanks, profiles please (this means turning left then right, to display my regal profile) and goodbye.

Saturday night I went out with Gina for a bite to eat at the local Mexican restaurant, El Torito, and then on to the local cinema to see Tim Burton's take on Alice in Wonderland.  It was an enjoyable bit of escapism, although not as dark and twisted as I've come to expect from Mr Burton.  Helena Bonham-Carter absolutely stole the show as the Red Queen - Off with their heads! - and Johnny Depp was delightfully disturbed as the Mad Hatter.  Stephen Fry and Alan Rickman's velvety tones lent the Cheshire Cat and Blue Caterpillar, respectively, a delicious authority.  All in all though, the film felt like a mash-up of Lord of the Rings, Labyrinth and Charlie & the Chocolate Factory; lots of digital special effects, psychedelic dreamscapes and a Quest.  We've been here before and I found myself tiring of the computer generated scenery, longing for an authentic landscape and some genuine interraction between characters, uncluttered and undistracted by prosthetics and special effects.

We're back on Daylight Saving time in L.A., after what seems like only a couple of months without it.  Spring is in the air (and hayfever along with it) and summer will be here before we know it.

Oscar week

Well, hello March, what are you doing here so soon?  What did you do with February? Or more to the point, what did I do with February?  Well, the month sped by with auditions, classes, rehearsals and job hunting.  You know, actory stuff.  And Oscar research - at least as much of it as I was able to muster. 

**Spoiler alert: the ceremony has ended in Los Angeles and I cannot help but discuss the event.**

I confess, I still have not seen Avatar and perhaps never will.  Neither have I seen Precious; I think I'd like to at some stage but I fear it will be traumatic, so I want at least one friend to sit beside me with a bottle of wine so we can cry and gasp and drink away the pain together.  I did see The Hurt Locker and was happy to see it win over Avatar.  I was even happier to see Kathryn Bigelow win best director - the first woman EVER to do so.  Having Barbra Streisand (nominated best director for Prince of Tides about a hundred years ago - oh alright, maybe 15 years ago) present the award kind of gave it away.  Would they have dragged Babs out of seclusion to present the award to James Cameron (who, thankfully, has had a haircut since the Globes)?  I think not.  I still say District 9 was a better, tighter, edgier film than The Hurt Locker - which was pretty tight and edgy - but alas it never had a chance.  I eagerly await the next film from director Neill Blomkamp, though, whatever it may be.

Darling, deserving Jeff Bridges won best actor - and our hearts, if he didn't already have them - and gave a lovely, warm speech in which he acknowledged the influence and encouragement of his parents, and the talents of the other key players in the film, Crazy Heart.  Which I have seen and loved.  Bridges is magnificent in it.  Sandra Bullock was the hot favourite for best actress and indeed clasped the small, golden bald man by the end of the night.  I really wanted Meryl to win, but you gotta love Sandra.  Possibly the most interesting moment of the night was when the director of the winning best short documentary film began his humble acceptance speech, he was suddenly steamrolled by a large, determined woman who proceeded to garble her own Very Important Message.  Since she was not removed from the stage, and the man holding the statuette did not verbally protest, one must assume she had some close association with the film.  But it was weird and rude.  The man was clearly surprised and none too thrilled by the interruption so it had presumably not been planned that she would join him onstage.  With the strict time limits on speeches, he never got another word in.  Shortly afterwards, Ben Stiller appeared in elaborate Avatar-style blue make-up (complete with shiny, black wig and long blue tail) to present the make-up award.  The delicious irony of this was that Avatar was not nominated for make-up (I guess it was mostly CGI).  Even better was Stiller's ad-lib that he promised to stand at a respectable distance from the winner so as not to diminish their moment of victory.  It was clearly a swipe at the party-crashing woman.  These moments enliven an awards show, which is a good argument for alcohol to be served to attendees; loosen things up a bit.

My favourite addition to the Oscars - I think it was introduced for the first time last year - is the tributes made to the best actor and actress nominees by past winners and colleagues.  There is something genuine and moving about they way they speak of and to these talented people which always brings a lump to my throat and a tear to my eye.  And often to the eyes of the nominees. 

My Oscar research this year was aided and abetted by Netflix.  I am officially addicted to this super-convenient service!  Pick a film or TV show online and have it delivered to your door.  Better still, some of them are available to stream and watch instantly on your computer (or TV if you've got a fancy one all tricked out with the latest gadgets and connected to the net).  So I watched Up, another triumph from Pixar; and In the Loop, a whip-smart British political comedy; went back in time to watch Streisand and Redford in The Way We Were, a charming film of a kind that doesn't seem to get made anymore - what, a romantic drama in which the protagonists don't end up with each other? Actually, come to think of it, that's one of the things I liked about Up in the Air; the execrable modern rom-com The Ugly Truth, watchable only due to the charisma of its stars and occasional flashes of fast, funny and surprisingly rude dialogue amidst the quagmire of tired cliche and ritual humiliation of the female star - vibrating underpants worn "accidentally" to a business dinner? Oh, what comedy riches!  And the final clinch takes place in a hot air balloon? Puh-lease!  I can't believe I stuck with it to the bitterly silly end.  I blame Gerard Butler for being so damn attractive; he's like Russell Crowe-lite, circa Gladiator without the Big 'Tude.  I've also watched the entire first season of Californication, am making headway through the second season of Weeds, sampled BBC classic Elizabeth R, and am eagerly awaiting delivery of The United States of Tara.

During the week I caught up with a theatre acquaintance from Melbourne.  Chris lived and worked in the U.S. about ten years ago, even established a successful independent theatre company, and is back in town to check out the scene again and try to extend his green card which comes up for renewal shortly.  We enjoyed a beer in Burbank and spoke of all things theatrical and Hollywoody.  It was great to hear an Aussie accent.  Surrounded by American accents all day, I don't often hear an Aussie one but it warms the cockles of my ears when I do.

Cindy, Alex and I also checked out the Sidewalk Studio Theatre together, the venue for Beaten Hearts, and met with our lighting designer, Morgan.  We're thrilled with the space.  It was great to walk in there again and feel the same warmth and sense of  intimacy and "rightness" that this charming little theatre has for the show. 

Big celebrity spot for the week was the beautiful Minnie Driver who was in my yoga class.  She's tall and quite bendy.

Oh, and I've been cast in a short film for which I auditioned a couple of weeks ago; the one which was a bit of a shamozzle, where the actors waiting to audition seemed more organised than the filmmaker.  Well, I got the part and accepted it.  Why?  It's a two-page bit, so I won't be needed for long, and it's comic and American.  I want to add more American-accent material to my reel, and it wouldn't hurt to have more comedy on it too.  It's called Don't Drink the Bong Water.  That's all you need to know.

Over and out, chickadees, till next time!

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.