IT’S ALL ACADEMIC

Skull and crossbones backpack stuffed with my usual supplies, I wandered uneasily onto the Sony Pictures soundstage like a bespectacled pimply kid who’d just been transferred to a brand new school district.  “Good morning!” I smiled to all the unfamiliar faces who were already sizing me up as a potential unwanted nerdy intruder on the Closed Set an hour and a half before the Popular Kids were scheduled to arrive.  But having anonymity on my side, they all smiled back politely just in case I happened to be a newly appointed Principle.

Meandering the length of the enormous stage to have a look at all the sets I was trying to “own” my right to be there; but my inner teenager was struggling, ears beginning to burn red with anxiety until I happened upon the Second AD who had initially called me to ask my availability.  And hugging him like a second cousin who might escort me to the prom, I clung to him tightly as he began polite introductions. 

“Can you do a computer voice?” the First AD immediately wanted to know before I inasmuch had said hello.  “Here, on this page” he added, plunging a script into my hands.  “Give it a try.”

(Day one and I get a pop quiz; go figure…)

Scanning the dialogue I let fly with the first choice that came to mind.  “No, too sexy” he commented.  (Wow…  I have never been accused of that!)  “Try it more computerized” my Performing Arts AD Teacher continued, as I robotically annunciated the verbiage.  “Somewhere in between…” he leaned back in his chair, fingertips touching together in a symbolic triangle still waiting to hear the perfect ‘ting’.

“I’m a great mimic!” I assured him, knowing that if I heard what he was trying to elicit from me at least once, I could more than likely nail the cadence. 

And with a down-loaded audio sound bite for me to imitate from some odd on-line program off his personal laptop (don’t want to know, don’t need to know…), I reverted directly back to my real teenage years of annoyingly mimicking random people on the TV set in our Indiana family room.

“Perfect!” the ADs laughed in two-part harmony.  “OK Pen, so aside from the computer voice, I also need you to be the “Bartender”, the “Ordinary Girl” at the bar and the “Speaker” at the funeral”, they told me as I frenetically scribbled my to-do homework on the script within the next few hours before the Writer/Producers descended upon our Classroom.

>>><<<

As last year’s self-appointed Second Team Homecoming Queen had abandoned her peers in favor of reigning over a new school district, I hovered quietly in the shadows as I’m wont to do.  The Popular Crowd were arriving intermittently (as they are wont to do), and rather than greeting them voraciously I kept my distance.  As the new kid on the block, er, lot, I had no interest in slipping on the sash and tiara and trying to fill the silver sneakers of the prior notoriously boisterous Queen.

So not surprisingly, when I unobtrusively appeared on the set to perform as both the self-confident “Bartender” as well as the less-than-glamorous “Ordinary Girl” in my first encounter with three of the starring Actors, they never so much as noticed that I happened to be the same person portraying the parts of two drastically different characters.  (My first real test and I got an A+!!!)

I was an acting genius!  I was Meryl Streep!  Nay, I was Katharine Hepburn!  Perhaps I’d need that Prom Queen sash and tiara after all! 

Glissading humbly off the set (as any brilliant Actress feign-glissades humbly) and seeking no public recognition whatsoever, I attempted a moment of potentially accolade-related ‘surprise’ as someone whispered quietly in my ear:

“Just so you know, the Actor on the left is great after he’s comfortable being around you for awhile; and the two on the right are very sweet, just kinda, um, ‘scatter-brained’.”

“Oh” I replied, pushing my bookish glasses up on my nose, retreating once again back into the library of shadows; a sudden realization occurring that (thankfully?) the Popular Crowd had neither officially accepted nor rejected me.

And for my first half day at a well-established School, anonymity was once again my best friend.

>>><<<

Hearing the cue to speak for the computer voice whilst our lead Actors performed their scene, I stood innocuously off-stage delivering the lines as scripted in the dialogue.  Yet after our initial endeavor, there was suddenly much discussion regarding the proper timing of when the “computer” should be heard, and again my teenage ears started reddening.  Had I royally screwed up already?  Would this lead to immediate detention, or worse, expulsion?

I had already begun to try to figure out the proper explanation on my next unemployment form as to why I’d been canned when the Director turned to me and offered his hand.  “I don’t know you” he smiled pleasantly, “and you are?”

And greeting him with all due respect, I shook his hand as well as both of the lead Actors who took the moment to graciously introduce themselves warmly.  “I think we’ll err on the side of caution, and let the Writers hear their words immediately rather than pausing for our Actress to hit the ‘enter’ key at the Run-Thru.  So do exactly what you did Penny, and we’ll adjust as needed when we go on camera.”

(My second test, and I’d call it a solid A!)

>>><<<

By day two, I was feeling a wee bit more comfortable in my new Home Room.  A couple of my fellow Second Team members who had been there for five ‘years’ had taken me under their wings protectively and properly schooled me with the Cliff Notes of ‘What You Need To Know about our Long Running Network (not cable!) Television Series’.  “Oh, and if they ask you to speak any dialogue, be sure to write +$25.00 on your daily voucher” one of my junior stand-in friends educated me.

Wait, WHAT???  (If this was English 101, she might has well have been speaking Latin.)

“But… but… but… don’t we have to be approved by a Producer or something?” I fretted.  (Clearly this was some sort of horrific hazing ritual wherein I was about to be “pantsed”, given a toilet swirly and eventually duct-taped to the elephant doors…)

“It’s Season SIX, sweetie” she beamed a dazzling smile, “and that’s how we roll here” she added with a confident nod.

>>><<<

With an extra fifty bucks (!) headed my way for standing-in for the computer voice for two days, I could barely contain myself on my third day at the elite Academy.  We were camera-blocking with the tech crew, and having mastered (at least that’s what I like to tell myself) the technique of impersonating my gorgeous Actress’s unique accent on my last show as well as every nuance and movement she made, I was prepared to be the star pupil speaking for, um, well, rather, not speaking for my newest lovely Actress whose character had temporarily lost her voice in the episode. 

Still, she had a few speaking lines at the beginning and the end of the show…  Certainly I could brilliantly replicate her (four) vocalized and (four) mute scenes!  And transferring all my copious notes from the previous day’s script, I once again pushed my bookish eyeglasses up my nose and studied the precise complex actions I would need to reproduce in order to continue earning my scholarship grant at this glorious institution:

Already seated.

Walks in and sits.

Already seated.

Already seated.

Walks in and sits.

Already seated.

Already seated.

Already seated.

Hunh…

(Talk about an Easy A!!!)

>>><<<

Ironically, there remained yet one more test that I seem to have failed miserably…

In a bizarre Alternate Universe of Elitist Cliques, the sixth-season recurring Background performers had begun to file in, pointing and “whispering” conspiratorially to each other.  As the previous Second Team Queen had demanded that one section of the audience seating be taped off for the exclusivity of the stand-ins during camera blocking days, She Who Made the Rules was notably absent, and “just who the hell was the new redhead with the ponytail?”  (Honestly, for people who make a living pantomiming on camera, they couldn’t have been louder.)

“Welcome, Penny!” the Homecoming Court of blondes gathered and smiled affectedly like a happy lynch mob.  “We’re sooo glad to have you here!” they chimed in unison as my ears began to redden yet again.  “We hear you’re replacing *insert name*.”

“I am!” I replied cheerily, eyeballing the lighting grid above for a silently descending ropey noose.  “But trust me, she and I are nothing alike” I added hopefully helpfully.

“Yeah, we noticed…” their fearless leader tilted her head eerily to one side as all the little hairs on the back of my neck stood straight up.  “OK!  So let’s have a super-duper great season together!” Miss Congeniality cheered before returning to her self-appointed duties of wrangling new BG performers away from the taped-off area.

>>><<<

Quietly bending my ear, the unofficial Second Team Homecoming King suggested that I really ought to hang out for the official catered meal at 4pm as the prior Queen always did and hover around for the entire show all night as she had always done.

And there it was:  my final exam for the first week at the prestigious private Network Academy:

A:  Obey obediently.

B:  Obey obediently (but fester internally).

C:  Fester internally (and harbor resentment).

D:  Find my voice and just ASK someone who’s actually in charge.

Boldly (mentally) circling “D” (in ink!), I strode up to my Second AD (slash prom date) and asked meekly, “So, um, OK to go home?” to which he smiled happily:

“Go!  Enjoy!  Be free!”

Wallowing in gratitude for the work (and hoping to keep my grades up!),

~Geeky P