A Model's Diary: The Nature of the Casting Call
By Syntia ZeniFriday, May 28, 2010
The Audition
"Hi, my name is Syntia Zeni and I am with CFT Central Florida Talent," I said with as much conviction one can muster into such a shallow sentence, smiling brightly into the camera.I turned my smile to the man behind the table with my hopeful headshot lying underneath his crossed hands. He nodded and began to explain to me the concept of the commercial I was auditioning for. It was nothing too exciting -- promoting some new college that was opening up -- but I smiled and nodded and listened intently, as though he were reading poetry to me.
The only thing really concerning me was that the role required me to walk up to my "boyfriend" on the beach with an armful of beach supplies and ask him who it was he was just talking to. The guy who was auditioning for that part was thin and wiry, with blonde sandy hair and blue eyes. He smiled at me as I walked up to him, handed him an imaginary beach ball, and said:
"Hey babe...who was that you were just talking to?"
The directors loved it! They loved that I handed him an imaginary ball, making the scene seem more natural and alive even without any props. They also loved the fact that I called him babe because it made the relationship seem more real and made the scene flow better.
I thanked them and smiled and waved off the praise with that 'Oh shucks! It was nothing!' attitude, because really -- it was just one line. They thanked the other actor, and as he left, I noticed another man waiting in the lobby, sitting just below the orange circular abstract art on the wall. The whole office was orange-related in decoration; it was really quiet tastefully done. Even the auditioning room matched the lobby with its warm orange walls, which made the room bright and comforting.
Acting 101: What Not To Do
"Do you mind doing it one more time with the next guy?" the director asked.Did I mind? In this biz, the more time you can spend in front of a prospective client, the better chance you have of being chosen. So I eagerly agreed.
The second guy walked in, and I could tell right away he was a 'trained' actor. Even from the way he walked to the way he shook the director's hand with this kinda creepy plastic smile on his face that never seemed to fade or falter. My assurance came when he introduced himself and his agency to the camera the same way I did, except he pronounced every single vowel and consonant as if though a Catholic nun stood waiting to hit him with a ruler if he messed up. He looked at me and I jumped a little and smiled sheepishly, as if he knew the mean things I had been thinking.
Now the other director -- standing off to the right -- would read some lines to the male character sitting in the chair. The character was supposed to be drinking out of a coconut, be disrupted by the director talking to him, and look up and make faces at him to the effect of: 'Why is this dude talking to me on the beach about college?' Simple, right? Well... one would think.
Apparently the concept was a little much for Mr. Theatre Major to grasp. I watched as he dramatically dragged the back of his hand across his brow, wiping away the imaginary sweat and breathing deeply as if though he were suddenly completely asphyxiated from the imaginary heat. He must have used some classical acting technique to conjure up in his head a long-lost memory of being on the beach. Although, last time I was at the beach I wasn't sweating like a pig or heaving for air like a fish out of water.
The best part came when the director started talking -- you know, the part when the actor is actually supposed to react to and show his abilities. I guess Mr. Theatre Major didn't get the memo and continued to slowly and lavishly act out sweating and breathing and drinking sloppily out of this imaginary coconut. I raised a brow to the director, who was just staring with this look of bewilderment on his face. The second director started reading the part louder and louder until he finally just gave up. The three of us stared at him in silence until he noticed what was happening and the slurping finally subsided. The director sighed, refolded his hands, and explained to him the concept of the commercial... again.
"Oh..." said Mr. Theatre Major, clearly embarrassed and maybe even blushing a little. "I'm terribly sorry! I misunderstood...I really am sorry..." His apologies would have continued for days if the director had not simply waved him off.
"It's fine. Do it again," the director replied, nodding to the other director to begin reading the lines again.
This time Mr. Theatre Major actually turned and began reacting to him, and I could barely hold back the reels of laughter gathering in my stomach. He was reacting as if though a shark had jumped up on his fins and started talking to him. The over-the-top hand movements and wide open eyes and gasping sounds of disbelief were almost too much for me to handle. Finally, it was my turn again.
"Hey babe...who was that you were just talking to?" I quirked an eyebrow and went out on a limb. "Do we need to talk about something?"
Good choice -- the directors loved my addition! They even said they wanted to add it to the commercial.
And the Waiting Begins...
I wanted to say if they wanted to use my line, they had to use me. But I held my tongue instead and thanked them. They said they would keep in touch and let me know as soon as possible if I had been chosen. I left the building and headed to my car with high hopes, knowing the pay for this commercial was pretty good.
High Hopes
A week later I received a call from my agency. They had narrowed it down between me and one other girl. They wanted to know if I was available on certain days this month. My answer was, of course, "Yes!" And you know what? Their answer to me was "Yes" -- because I got the part!
