Where Knowledge Junkies Get Their Fix
Becky
Lights, camera…painful auditions
by Becky - January 11, 2008 - 11:06 PM

lIt’s Thursday, just one day closer to opening night of the American Idol, Season 7! Will there be a Sanjaya redux? Will Seattle be crowned the worst audition city yet again? (Randy famously trashed the city thusly: “‘it must be something in the rain water,’ and tried to explain the ineptness as ‘wild, insane. Maybe depressed.’”) While Simon may gripe about how painful is it to endure the dregs of the talent pool, people who work in casting (’sup!) usually drool over the especially horrid auditions. Those are the special dears, the neediest ones you can’t just cut off on the phone when they check in two hours after the audition. It would be far too cruel. If you’re mired behind the camera, the pathos is unstoppable.

Because, even though I’m in no actor, I’ve lived long enough to have auditioned for at least something–mostly in childhood or its twilight, usually for the parts of animals (I landed the skunk in Bambi) or robots (I was “Mechanico” in Raggedy-Ann), which had the fewest lines and required the cruelest costumes. These roles in particular were the results of a draconian group audition in which we were required to leap, crouch, sing or “sing,” and walk like robots. I was heartened to learn (or was it disappointed?) that job interviews didn’t follow suit.

So how about it–to take us through the weekend–are there classic audition stories out there you’d like to share?

Comments (9)
  1. I…I can’t. I can’t write about it. It was humiliating. Not to mention it was at the church where my dad was pastor.

  2. Out of all four years of high school I auditioned for all but one play, 7 in total. The worst by far was when I was reading for the part of a nasaly voiced annoying woman. When I was done with my rendition of the voice, the entire room was laughing in the pointing and laughing way, not in the you nailed the voice kind of way. I was so embarrassed.

    The best audition experience was not my own. During musical auditions, my director was kind enough to allow us to sing in the room without an audience. The rest of sat in a different room but only with one of those walls that can be pulled back to make more room. Anyway, if one sang loud enough you could hear them in the holding room. When my best friend Chris got up to sing his booming, beautiful voice floated through the wall like we were sitting next to him. At the end of his song, the whole room burst into applause! I wish I could see the look on his face when we did that. Needless to say, he got the part of Horace Vandergelder in Hello Dolly.

  3. I auditioned for 3 O’Clock High, the lead role. It sucked, cause I had to play the scene where I’m urinating in the bathroom and the bully’s lines were read to me by a septugenarian woman who smoked 2 packs a day.

  4. The first (and last) play I auditioned for was “Cinderella” in the first grade. I’m using the term “audition” loosely because everyone was required to be in the play in some way, but you still had to audition for the part you wanted. If you weren’t assigned your desired character, the teacher just gave you one. I can’t remember what part I read for, but I know what I got: ugly stepsister #2. Talk about a self-esteem booster.

  5. I’m a high school choir teacher, which means about twice a year I have to be present at, or occasionally judge, the auditions for regional or statewide honors choirs. Some are good. Some are not so good. Nuff said.

  6. I (sort of) had an audition but didn’t even realize it. Once, when I was a movie extra and was standing in the group of extra’s. The casting agent was chatting casually with each person on a ‘one to one’ basis. I later found out that he was doing that as a sort of personality test to find someone who would have a small speaking role. If I had known I would have fought my shyness and been more assertive. So, I blew the personality test(haha).
    I’ve only been called when they need alot of people for crowd scenes.

    I chickened out of auditioning for the high school play but helped another guy get up the courage. He got a small role that I could have done. I was kicking myself for not going for it.

  7. Years ago, when I was in elementary school, I auditioned for a small role in the school-wide Christmas play. It was a small role, with only a few lines, but it was the coolest role available for the kids in my grade. I’ve always been a bit of a ham, so I got the role. I was thrilled.

    Then, the unthinkable happened. My older sister also had a small role in this play. Hers was a mere walk-on bit. It was nowhere near as cool as mine. However, her role involved her walking across the stage talking to another girl, while a boy playing her younger brother skipped by and threw out some annoying little brother line. Well, the boy playing her little brother just couldn’t get the annoying little brother bit down, so the teacher who was running the show figured with all my vast experience being an annoying little brother, I would be the perfect person to give this guy a lesson in being obnoxious. Ever wanting to please, I skipped past my sister and delivered the line in my most irritating sing-song voice. That was when disaster struck.

    The teacher decided I was SO good at being the annoying little brother, that I should have that role, and she gave my plum role to that turd who couldn’t even be irritating.

    I was crushed.

    Alas.

  8. My first real play audition was for a high school production of The Miracle Worker. The people casting it asked to see a monologue. Pretty standard, however, I had no idea what this was.
    So my English teacher suggested that I write something for myself.
    Instead of actually writing words to say, I instead developed a pantomime version of “The Gift of the Magi.” It couldn’t have been too awful, since they called me back to read for a part. But it wasn’t until I talked with another friend who had auditioned that I found out what a monologue actually meant. For some reason the memory of that STILL embarasses me.

  9. The one acting part I landed I didn’t even have to audition for. My sister called saying she was making a ten-minute movie called Zombie Free and needed another zombie. So yeah, I drove to Atlanta to get made up and chase her around ouside gnashing my teeth and dragging my foot. It hasn’t made it to YouTube yet, though, so I’m not holding my breath for an Oscar nomination.

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