February 4, 2000
This one is odd. It's an odd show, to begin with. It's about four guys who are all paranoid. They think everyone is out to spy on them, cheat them, hurt them, and basically 'get' them. The only other regular character is their female therapist. Think Seinfeld with four Kramers. Or four Georges, depending on how you viewed those characters. Would that be funny week in and week out? Hmmmmm...
It gets odder. They made the show last year. This pilot has already come down the pipeline, at the same network. It was touted as the next big thing but didn't make much of a bleep on the radar screen when the final decisions were being made. It has resurfaced this pilot season, and from what I understand, they are recasting two of the five roles, the woman therapist and my role, and then trying it all over again with a slightly new approach. While last year's MAX was nerdy, this year's MAX is supposed to be attractive (albeit still nerdy on the inside). That allows for a little romantic angle between the therapist and him. Hmmmmm...
And so my choice today was to make MAX as ultra-serious as I could. Almost James Bond-ian in his suspicions and dealings with the world. It was this delivery that added the odd icing to this odd cake. And as I stood before the casting director and executive producers, I said the first couple of lines, which were, in my mind, supposed to get laughs, and the room collapsed upon itself in profound silence. Not a peep was heard from my auditors. It was almost instant death.
Then near the end, after about two-and-a-half minutes of silent pondering, I delivered one of my moderately amusing lines and they lost it. Absolute hysterics. My first concern was that they were laughing at me. My second concern, and really next twelve concerns, was that they were still laughing at me. They had been silent and uninterested all along. What triggered the outburst? I did not know. I did the second scene, which received a similarly chilly reception, but without the one spontaneous combustion of laughter. And I took my odd icing choice and walked out.
What's most odd? They loved me. That's the word from my agent. They thought I was great and want me to read for the director. Or maybe they just want to show him this idiot guy that they got a big kick out of laughing at. Hmmmmm...
Go on to the Callback.