October 10, 2000
I received the fax last night and looked over the sides. It was a good part, lots of drama, lots of intrigue. The role was slightly different than what I usually play. JAMES NATHAN was honest, straight-forward, and a romantic. There was no cynicism, no wry wit, no sarcastic delivery here. It was a courtroom scene during which this noble officer defends his less-than-noble actions. He broke the law for love. I could play this role. I could.
I prepared what I thought was a nice arc for him in the scene. After waiting about forty minutes, I entered the JAG offices and sat in front of Melissa, the casting director, who was flanked on either side by two producer-looking gentlemen, four in total. I began as I had planned, starting off our hero in a state of nervousness, uncertainty, and a slight shame. Then he warmed up a tiny bit as he started talking about his true love. He described their romance, their secret trysts, their joy in each other. And then as the scene moved into its next phase, as we discover the deeper sense of love that flourished between these two, as NATHAN seemed to realize it himself, as that rich love and emotion flowed from my performance, it happened. Slow, steady, and nearly silent, it happened to my right. From the inner reaches of one man's chest came the sound. The unmistakable sound of a peaceful snore. One of the four gentlemen in the room had managed to fall asleep during my performance.
As the sound reached my ears and I began to process what was happening, I thought it could be one of two things: Either the gentleman had actually fallen asleep and was snoring, which was bad, or, possibly, he was simply making a snoring sound, signalling, in what he thought was some clever way, that he did not approve of the scene, which was also bad (and much more rude). There was no third possibility. There was no way I could figure out in my head, sitting in that room, an explanation for a snoring sound that would somehow work out in my favor. I was in trouble.
The casting director, who had been doing wonderfully up until that point, giving me her full attention and reading the scene very committed, let her head snap in the direction of the sound. A stern look appeared across her face. I could feel other eyes in the room gravitate toward the sound of the disturbance. Even the snorer himself was startled by the sudden emission of sound. The snore was immediately followed by a rustling and an awakening position-readjustment on his part.
I continued on.
When I reached the end of the first scene (of two), Melissa gave me a friendly "Thank you" and I took the indication that my work there was done. I got up and walked top the door. As I reached it, I could hear one gentleman say to the offender in a chastising tone just one word: "Mark." Was that it? Was that the complete defense of my honor? "Mark." I try to piece together the events and the moments and figure out what I should have done differently. Should I have stopped the scene? Should I have confronted the snorer? Should I have let my displeasure be known?
All I did do was tell my agent I never want to audition for JAG
again. Period. Will JAG care? Probably not. Unless they're
looking for someone to perform a bedtime story.