That Whole Audition Thing

So I just auditioned for a part called Gribby the Elf. “He’s Santa’s main man,” described the director, “and a well written part.” Yeah, an elf. I auditioned for a Christmas play. Why? Because I hadn’t begun this whole auditioning process yet, and figured, “What the hey?! Could be a good experience.” It certainly was.

The theater is roughly 45 minutes from where I live. Without traffic. So, as I meandered down the 405 for 26 miles I realized that regardless of if I was actually cast, it was unlikely I could continually make this commute over the next 3 months. Whatever, it would still be good to do. I show up and I’m the 4^th person there; I audition after 2 five year old twins and the 60 year old grandmother of the twins. Beforehand I was looking over the 3 lines good old Gribby had to say to Santa and Mrs. Santa [I always thought it was Mrs. Claus], and the concierge-lady, for lack of a better term, suggested I read for Bogby, or something—the evil troll who tries to cancel Christmas. I laugh in spite of myself.

Ok, so I go in and after commenting on the Booter Happy Dance on my resume, they say let’s get started with Gribby. So I start, mime putting wood on a fire, and say my line. The director, from her table, reads Santa’s and Mrs. Santa’s lines, and then I complain about troubles that happened last Christmas. Then there’s a page of dialogue between Santa and Mrs. Claus that has nothing to do with me. So it’s the director speaking lines, and me looking at empty space trying to find a way into a conversation I [Gribby] don’t seem care about. So I load more fake wood onto the fake fire and come in eventually to jinx the whole play and say nothing could ever stop Christmas from coming.

The director says, “Very nice. Good work.” Fully aware that all I did was say three lines and pretend to load firewood, I still appreciate the words. I mention that the concierge-lady gave me the troll part, and then proceed to reveal how I plan to drug Santa, and then do so. That was fun; mine is an evil laugh. Had about 10 lines and ended with a doped up Santa. Director people say cool and thanks for coming, and hand me my audition card to give to the concierge-lady. All in all, I was pretty pleased. I think I did well given the circumstances, and had a blast. And I was finished and could head on home.

I hand my stuff to the concierge lady, who asks if I was coming for callbacks and asks what they told me. I said they told me to turn my stuff in to her. She says, “Oh ok. Well, we have your contact info, right?” After pointing it all out to her, I head on back. As I drive away, I remember the director also mentioned that Gribby would be singing a song and was planning on hearing me. Of course, she saw I was a singer and commented on it, but wouldn’t she want to have hear me. Things then start to become awfully confusing as I wonder if I’d make a show that I had suddenly become interested in.

I initially felt I did decently, given what I had to work with, but who knows? Did they say “nice work” because they meant it, or is that something they just say? Was I not told anything because I was the first to audition for the part, or did they write me off from the start? Did I bring too little or too much emotion? Was I too physical, or not physical enough? Had I given a good reading, or a bad one?

I decided I would drive myself crazy if I speculated long on this event; to sit there and reflect on what may have gone right and may have gone wrong would get me nowhere. All I wanted was feedback, and I forgot that that element is absent in the audition process. So I don’t know if I failed or not. Even if I’m not cast, I don’t think I can know if it was a direct result of my acting abilities. The director may simply have noticed that that I’m over 30 miles away and have a less than flexible schedule, and let that dictate my casting. Or she just didn’t like what I brought to the part. What’s to say that someone else wouldn’t have liked it?

So here’s where I’m at. I felt good about what I did. Strike that, I feel good about what I did. Whether it was actually good or not, well, that’s something I need to work on: developing cold reading instincts that can tell me when I present myself well or poorly. In the meantime, I’m just gonna keep doing my thing.