Today, in the twilight of the 2004 Pilot Season, I attended the Gathering of Los Angeles' Good-Looking, Funny, 30-Something Male Actors. There we all stood, outside the production offices of the Aisha Tyler Project, quite possibly the last pilot being cast this season. There were faces from shows and auditions over the last few years, all guys who have achieved the fleeting success of a few pilots here, a short-lived show there. And as the waiting-time increased, the crowd of faces grew, until nearly 20 of us milled about in the hot Valley air, wondering if any of us would actually get work on a pilot this season, knowing that most of us would not, and knowing that, at most, only one of us would be getting this particular job.
My reading was fine, but painfully short. Of the five pages, we only read three of them, hitting two or three good jokes, but leaving two more pages of laughs in the rehearsal space of my living room, never to see the light of the production offices, let alone the sound stage. And I left there knowing I would not be going any further on this job, and it really did not feel good. Not just because I wasn't going to have a job this year, but because there are so many guys with so much talent and none of them, none of us will be getting a pilot this year. What happened this pilot season? I know I am not the first to ask that question, but it was an unusual one, I think. Perhaps it is the continued success of reality shows that is causing the turmoil, but whatever the cause, it is a storm that will have to be ridden out. Nothing in this business lasts forever, and in this case, that's a good thing.