A Working Actor's Lament (Chapter 41)

A Mime Is A Terrible Thing To Waste

So Robin and I are sitting at our computer waiting for the "Powers That Be" over at the Portland International Short Short Film Festival to update the website with the Audience and Jury Prize winners from the festival. We tried to make it up to Portland, but I guess there was a convention for US Citizens and everyone decided to go, because it would have cost us almost $1000 to travel 1000 miles, roundtrip. Oh well, I always considered myself a Canadian anyway.

We couldn't wait for the webmaster to earn their paycheck anymore, so Robin took it upon herself to call Tony, the guy in charge of the festival, and ask him personally. After responding with a couple of "uh huh's" and "okays", she looked over at me and shook her head...we did not win any awards at this festival. The awards went to "Pillow Girl", "Snoozer", "The Story of Bubbleboy", and "Mime Massacre", the heart-warming story of "one man's mission for vengeance on all mimes that explodes in a day of mimed bloodshed". We got some good news out of the whole experience: one of the employees who screened "Lucidity" for the festival emailed me and told me he "liked the short; it scared the crap out of me." Also, Tony told Robin since we were accepted this year, if we want to submit another film for next year we won't have to pay the submission fee. What a great thing to do for the filmmakers.

So I am off to write "The Mime Massacre II - The Story of Bubbyboy vs. Pillow Girl & Snoozer". It is sure to win next year!!!

Leaving My Skin At The Chinny "Chin Chin's"

For those of you who work and feel the need to eat out once in a while for lunch, you can understand my pain for eating at the same restaurants that are within walking distance of your job. Why not eat there? - you can walk over, order, sit down, bitch about your bosses, pay the bill and walk back and still have time to clip your toe nails or re-apply your make-up before you continue on the road to carpal tunnel and worker's comp.

On Friday, with my cravings for Johnny Rockets, Rubio's and Kabuki already at the lowest of lows, Robin calls me up and asks if I want to get out of the area and try a different restaurant. Was is my birthday and I just forgot? Did my boss tell her I was getting a raise? Was it payday? Oh, it was payday, so out of the building and away from the mundane to explore the eatery's in Culver City. With our friend Galina in the backseat, we decided that the Chinese restaurant Chin Chin's was our final destination. No burger and fries today; no baja burrito was to pass my lips this afternoon; no, I was going to have high-class egg flower soup and rice with the topping of my choice.

Almond Shrimp, Sweet and Sour Pork, Lo Mein, Chow Mein, Won Ton, Dim Sum - who could choose? Everything looked great on the menu and sounded even better when spoken. Galina ordered, then Robin, and then it was my turn. What could tempt me more than the other items on the menu? I decided on the luscious Lemon Chicken - a chicken breast breaded with love and placed on a blanket of lettuce. Did I mention that they fry it in lava?

The food came and the steam billowed off the breast of chicken in front of me, tempting me to push aside the chopsticks, grab the fork and dig in as soon as humanly possible. As I punctured the meat with the prongs of my utensil, I did not notice the juice flowing out; tears from the fouls body forecasting my future. I placed the breaded meat in my mouth, closed my jaws on it whilst it lay across my tongue...and then I blacked out.

After awaking from my 3 second coma, I realized that my teeth were not only hurting, but the flesh around them was slowly being seared off. Not one to be disgusting, I decided it would be better for the other people at the table to not see a grown man spit food back onto his plate, so I sucked up the pain and kept the breaded chicken with volcano juice in my mouth. My life passed before my eyes, and all I could think about was, "Wow, that was boring".

After swallowing the flame that had been ignited in my mouth, I touched what was left of my tongue to the roof of my mouth and along the back side of my teeth. There was a weird sensation, as if my teeth now had curtains that had been drawn closed. I know it had been a while since I had seen the dentist, but who gave him the permission to redecorate and not tell me about it? No one, that's who. I excused myself from the table and headed towards the bathroom where I could see what, for the love of God, was going on in there.

I looked in the mirror and saw something that the creators of the "Saw" movies should use in "Saw IV". The skin from around my back three teeth on both sides of my upper jaw had been fried, like the chicken that had done this, and was hanging on for dear life. After 'pulling the curtains' and returning to the table, it took all that I had to finish eating. The ulcers that were now making my teeth throb were also making it impossible to enjoy any amount of food that I had left, which was all of it. With an empty belly, a throbbing mouth, and a tear in my eye, I drove the women back to our place of employment knowing that a steady diet of cold liquids was in my future for the next couple of days.

I know what you are asking yourself...and yes, next time I will try the Boiling Won Ton with a side order of Magma-filled Pot Stickers and wash it down with delicious Radiator Water.

Mmmm, mmmm, good.

A Working Actor's Lament (Chapter 40)

One More Step Closer To "ER"

One of my dream roles is to play a critical patient on "ER", one who is fine at the beginning of the show but you know that complications are going to set in and, with the drama going on around me, I take my last breath, making everyone realize that life is precious and we must not forget that (sniff). Or, a stuttering new intern who is battling Tourette's syndrome and needs to raid the medical supply closet to find medication that helps mask my condition before I say the wrong thing to Weaver and get kicked out of the program. I guess a corpse would be pretty cool, too.

Anywho, yesterday I got called to audition for a short film being produced by Livia Perez-Borrero (production coordinator of such films like "Three of Hearts" and "Jingle All The Way") and starring Ellen Crawford who played Lydia, the nurse, every Thursday night at 10 PM on NBC. This was it, this was my t-t-t-ticket to finally sh-sh-show someone that I w-w-w-was right for "ER"...fart turd.

The role I was reading was for "Charles - 40, good-looking, conservative, rigid, boring. Jessie's husband". After initially being upset that "stuttering" was no where in the character description, I buckled down and learned my lines. I was paired up with Melanie, who, once we walked in the door, took over the room with a story about how she just got into a car accident on her way to this audition and had to take a cab to get here so she didn't have a picture and resume on her (I have to keep that in mind for the next time I forget, too). We started, we acted, we finished, we left. Not my best work, but not my worst. One thing I was not expecting (or had ever seen in previous auditions) was the steadycam. The camera man was constantly walking around so I was trying to stay aware of where he was and where I should be facing. I shouldn't have been doing that, and I know better. They will get the shot they are looking for and work around what I am giving them. I knew this and think that I let it get to me a little.

I left the audition at 11:45 and was told that callbacks were that same day from 1 PM to 5 PM. By the time it was 2 PM, I knew my phone was not going to ring. I guess I will have to be "patient" and count the minutes till I can show my future Emmy Nominated p-p-p-performance to the people in the Room of Emergency.

A Working Actor's Lament (Chapter 39)

Can't Sing, Dance, or Act...Who Said I Wasn't A Triple Threat???

A couple of months ago, 1-800-Dentist was asked if the company employees would be interested in joining in a new CBS television show called "The Singing Office". The concept is two different companies compete to see who has the best singing group (5 people chosen out of everyone who sang from auditioning on the "fly"). They are sequestered for 4 days while they learn a song and dance routine then compete in front of the judges, and the best group wins a cash prize with the possibility of moving to the live show at the end of the series where all the winners from every week come back so America can pick the best "Singing Office".

Everyone had to sign either a 14 page contract (if you wanted to sing) or a 2 page contract (if you wanted to be filmed for the background). There were a handful of us (SAG actors) who didn't want to sign either contract because of the fine print so you won't be seeing either Robin or myself on the show. There is a story that goes along with our decision, but that can be a blog for another day.

Today, the producers took over our office and have been going from cubicle to cubicle and asking the people who signed the 14 page contract to sing. It has been an experience, especially for those who didn't sign a contract (having to duck and weave between the cameras). However, there is a good chance you will be able to see what I am talking about; since they have been here, it is a guarantee that if the show gets picked up, 1-800-Dentist will definitely get some free publicity on CBS. I will let you know when it will air so you can see the crazy people that I work with.

A Working Actor's Lament (Chapter 38)

I Love New York??? Think Again!!!

I have to say, this business we call show out here in Hollywood is really tough on one's confidence. I keep putting myself out there to be judged and juried (?) and keep getting kicked in the nether region of my persistence.

I have heard for every positive there are at least a hundred negatives, be it for auditions or HIV tests. Either way, it doesn't sound that "positive" to me. I have submitted my short film to eleven festivals so far. Out of those, I have only heard from six, and out of those I have only been accepted into two; 33.3% of my peers feel the blood, sweat and tears I poured into my film and have decided to share it with their city, while 66.7% feel the need to rip out my heart to see the blood themselves. (Drama, you got to love it).

In all seriousness, I was hoping to get into the New York City Short Film Festival this year with "Lucidity", but, alas, it was not meant to be. I received my rejection form letter on October 1st that read:

"Dear Producer,

Thank you for submitting your film to NYC Shorts. Unfortunately, we are not able to program it in this year's festival. We received 876 submissions and are only able to program 40 films. The selection process was extremely competitive this year and each film was given careful consideration and screened multiple times by our programming judges. Best of luck as you continue your filmmaking career.

James Pellerito
NYC Shorts"

It is a shame that the festival only had enough time to accept 4.6% of the films they received. I am sure I am not the only producer of a film who feels this way (except for the 40 that were chosen). Hopefully the five festivals I am still waiting to hear from will give my film a chance. The next one to notify the applicants is Slamdance, the sister festival of Sundance, but they will not be sending out the acceptance/rejection emails until December, which gives me plenty of time to lick my wounds till the next onslaught. Hopefully, it will be a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.