February 16, 1999
This was a surprise. It's a pilot, yes. It's for ABC, yes. But it's not a sitcom. It's an hour-long drama. I certainly would not have expected to find myself in a weekly drama at the end of all of this ABC holding deal hoopla. But there's no reason to believe that what I expect is necessarily what's best. So today, drama it is, and it's a pretty good one at that. There are some nice things in the pilot script.
Now one thing I have been doing lately to try to create a more interesting look for myself is to not shave down to the nub ever, but instead leave a tiny bit of scruff of beard on my face at all times. I have this belief that it gives my face more character and helps me look older at the same time, so that I don't look like a 22 year-old. In this case, specifically, the character is supposed to be 27 and a guitar-strumming bohemian, so it made sense to go with the scruff to avoid the fresh-faced white-bread homespun middle-American youngster look.
The casting director, Mary Vernieu, is a name that I've known for a long time because she was a casting assistant on many of the big movies I saw when I was aggressively keeping track of such minutiae for every movie I attended. She worked on True Romance, Sneakers, and JFK, among others. Meeting her was one of my unofficial goals for many years, the name had become so familiar. Of course, there was no guarantee she would be there. Her associate, Mary, might be running the audition but I felt there was at least a 50/50 chance that today would be the day I would finally meet Mary Vernieu.
I waited about a half-hour to audition. Finally, Frankie, the assistant, came out and got me and we wound our way through the outer office and its desks and stacks of paper. We went back to the rear office and then back further to almost a secret little corner office. And there, as the door swung open, was the woman I had been waiting for. "Hi, I'm Jennifer," she said. My eyes stayed trained on Jennifer but all of my other senses tried to pick up the presence of someone else in the room. But all was quiet. No Mary. No Anne even. No official casting directors at all.
Now there have been many occasions recently where I have skipped 'pre-reading' for the casting director and gone straight to producers. But this wasn't even a 'pre-read.' This was a 'pre-pre-read' for the associates to earn a 'pre-read.' This was a step not forward, but backward. I had to read for the two assistants, who I'm sure are very trustworthy and report back accurately to their bosses, but it's all about perception, and the perception here is that I'm moving in a direction I thought I hadn't been moving lately. The perception is certainly not that I have a big-time holding deal opening doors for me.
The scene went fine. It was very short, about 40-45 seconds. I think I did everything I wanted to do. The feedback on the audition? Too old. Let that sink in for a bit. Too old. Too old!? I'm doing all I can not to look like a baby-faced 22 year-old and they think I'm too OLD to play 27!!?? If they can somehow be convinced to let me come back for a 'pre-read,' you know I'll have a very clean-cut face and short hair. There's even a chance, I bet, that if a casting director or producer did see the new me, one might suggest I am too young.
Or am I just a fading starlet grasping for my youth?