As I sat in the waiting room, waiting my turn to shine as the young Clancey, I could hear the gentleman in front of me doing the same scenes. He was doing fine, sounded good, got all the words out OK, but I felt that once I got in there, the differences would be obvious. I certainly felt that I had a little better grasp on the character and just a more clever delivery in general.
He finished his reading and I could hear the commotion as they prepared to put his audition on tape to send to the producers in Virginia. He slated his name, the usual business, and then performed the scene again. And I remember thinking, "Oh, that's too bad. I hate having to do the scene a second time because that second reading is usually more in danger of being underwhelming. It's easier to forget a line, or miss a beat, or just lack the same magic that the first one can have.
So, eventually I went and I stood up in front of her desk and delivered my grand version of the Clancey scene. As the last line delicately rolled off my tongue and I turned to her and gave her a big smile indicating, "Well, that's what I've got. Pretty nice, huh?" the response came, "OK. Thank you very much." I froze. Now obviously it just slipped her mind that she's supposed to put me on tape. Maybe she was just so overwhelmed by my performance that she wasn't even thinking clearly. And so I stood there for an extra second or two just to give her a chance to collect herself and realize what she needed to do. Then, as I slowly bent down to pick up my belongings and slink from her office, it hit me that this was the end of the road for me as Clancey. She had determined that my performance was so bad that it would be better if no one else ever saw it. The world would be a better place if no video record ever existed of John Ducey attempting to play the role of Clancey.
"Next!"