February 28, 1992
I guess the smiles were enough to get me back into the lobby of the apartment building on Whitley, with the doorman continuing to run his little police-state. (No sitting on the floor - if there are no seats, stand. No entering through the main door - only use the one five feet to the left.) This time the men & women were paired up. I was matched with a pretty "together" looking woman. She was about 35, blonde, attractive. She was one of about 10 women, and I was one of about 6 men. We read. It went fine, almost well. She seemed pretty good. Then we read a scene from the end of the film with a third man, an older one, her husband. Our third man was painfully bad. But she & I stuck it out.
The two other folks were dismissed and I was asked to wait around. Lo and behold, who should show up but Andrea Anais from Theatre Rapport. She had come in to audition that morning and apparently they loved her. She was very happy with her work, a sort of recollection, movement monologue type deal. I didn't really understand. She said she felt like she had really tapped deep into her own emotion and bowled them over. Mmhmm.
They called Andrea in with some other young guy, and then they called in me and the other older guy a few minutes later. The three of us read the scene at the end. He was good, very slow and intense (maybe a bit too much) and all I really saw Andrea do was a "startled" look when she saw the other guy. It was absurd. But it's not easy to play "shocked beyond belief," I will admit.
And that was that. We were a few of the last people to read. That's kind of a good sign. But, again, it was all sort-of "jumpy" dialogue, not too smooth.
And, the script calls for insanely tattered jeans, which I, of
course, have, and considered wearing for a minute or two, but then
opted for my two-hole dungarees. Should've gone for it.