Rage Against The Machine
Auditions can be fun. "We want Rod to come in and improvise being very angry". Heck that's a stretch.
People pay good money to sit in another human presence and quiver with diluvian angst. I get to do it for free on camera and there might be a job at the other end, who knows?
So I saw Karen Lyndsey Stewart and Carolyn McCleod (a solid casting crew) for a v. small part in a new Basic Instinct movie. I had to be a regular patient in a top flight therapist's practice who was in a rage, so I had to come along with a character and a lot of stuff to be angry about.
I suppose I may have chosen a shade of myself; a wealthy partner in a firm of accountants furious at being taken for a ride financially and emasculated verbally by his estranged wife. Pretty much the opposite of my own situation. I seriously do not like this guy but find it very easy to get in touch with his sense of injury and impotent fury. His or mine?
I ranted my rant for the camera and finished in a trembling state of high and unrequited dudgeon. I think they may have been slightly taken aback. I emerged into a sunlit Wardour Street with a spring in my step and a whistle on my lips. I wondered momentarily who was carefree here? Me or Mr. Horrible? Don't look a gift horse in the mouth said Dr. Acting.
Karen Lyndsey Stewart once cast me in the film 'Sylvia' in which Gwyneth Paltrow played the eponymous Plath. I played the man who tried to sell Ted Hughes (Daniel Craig) a fox cub at night in a park, providing him with the inspiration for the poem 'The Thought Fox', a great piece about how the poetry arrives.
Unfortunately nobody had researched the life cycle of the fox and as we were filming in October and cubs are invariably born in the spring I was presented with a young but fully grown vixen to stuff into my jacket. It was actually quite a good natured beast but the tail wagging at my waist was a bit of a give-away. They tried a small dog which looked nothing like a fox but finally I ended up doing the scene with a fur stole in my coat and a growing conviction that this scene would prove to be inessential to the final product. I was right. Also superfluous to requirements was any poetry, so the reference would have been baffling anyway to those who were not familiar with the Hughes oeuvre.
It's all a bit of a mystery isn't it?
People pay good money to sit in another human presence and quiver with diluvian angst. I get to do it for free on camera and there might be a job at the other end, who knows?
So I saw Karen Lyndsey Stewart and Carolyn McCleod (a solid casting crew) for a v. small part in a new Basic Instinct movie. I had to be a regular patient in a top flight therapist's practice who was in a rage, so I had to come along with a character and a lot of stuff to be angry about.
I suppose I may have chosen a shade of myself; a wealthy partner in a firm of accountants furious at being taken for a ride financially and emasculated verbally by his estranged wife. Pretty much the opposite of my own situation. I seriously do not like this guy but find it very easy to get in touch with his sense of injury and impotent fury. His or mine?
I ranted my rant for the camera and finished in a trembling state of high and unrequited dudgeon. I think they may have been slightly taken aback. I emerged into a sunlit Wardour Street with a spring in my step and a whistle on my lips. I wondered momentarily who was carefree here? Me or Mr. Horrible? Don't look a gift horse in the mouth said Dr. Acting.
Karen Lyndsey Stewart once cast me in the film 'Sylvia' in which Gwyneth Paltrow played the eponymous Plath. I played the man who tried to sell Ted Hughes (Daniel Craig) a fox cub at night in a park, providing him with the inspiration for the poem 'The Thought Fox', a great piece about how the poetry arrives.
Unfortunately nobody had researched the life cycle of the fox and as we were filming in October and cubs are invariably born in the spring I was presented with a young but fully grown vixen to stuff into my jacket. It was actually quite a good natured beast but the tail wagging at my waist was a bit of a give-away. They tried a small dog which looked nothing like a fox but finally I ended up doing the scene with a fur stole in my coat and a growing conviction that this scene would prove to be inessential to the final product. I was right. Also superfluous to requirements was any poetry, so the reference would have been baffling anyway to those who were not familiar with the Hughes oeuvre.
It's all a bit of a mystery isn't it?
posted by Rod at 11:49 am
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