Like Water Off a Ducks Back (Kind of!)

“Hey Pen, sorry to bother you so late, but your Actress is unavailable Friday.  Could you come in tomorrow and watch her, and then do the rehearsal/Network Run-Thru for her on Friday?”

“I, um, yes of course!” I replied after a hurried mental check list that I had indeed done the laundry and had a spare box of root touch-up hair color in the linen closet.

“Thanks Pen!  I’m so glad you’re a part of our family!”

And slathering my silver rooted head with peroxide somewhere around 10pm, refolding still damp freshly washed jeans air drying on hangers and grateful that my call time wasn’t until 10:00am, I tended to every other meticulous preparation and challenge that I could possibly foresee.

>>><<<

“Wow, look at you with your lines all marked, your script all scrunched up for turning the pages and your spiral rings all in place instead of brads” our tiny blonde Actor commented, sliding into the booth across from me as we prepared to rehearse our first scene of the day together.

“I’m just, uh, just trying to be professional and ready!” I smiled awkwardly, hoping that my inner withering wasn’t outwardly apparent.

“Well then you’re already way ahead of half our cast, myself included” he grinned modestly, scanning through his own already scrunched up pages.  (Well played!)

“What scene is this?” our lead Actor wandered onto the set casually, as I immediately leapt up in order to make room for him to sit downstage of me in the booth whilst standing submissively off to the side.  “Stop it doll face, and have a seat.  I can walk around” he smirked in Mr. Furrowed Brow character.  (!!!)

And taking my place next to him as he wrapped a protective arm behind me, five of us in total performed our scene together, once.

“It’s just that easy.  I don’t need it again, do any of you?” our Director asked the veteran actors who all shrugged and shook their heads “no” as they dispersed like children at the ringing of a school bell.

Hmm…

Perhaps I hadn’t foreseen every challenge…

“Let’s do scene H, Penny’s monologue on the phone” our First AD suggested, as podiums were slid to an adjacent set, me taking my Actress’ designated seat on the couch with prop cell in hand.

And finishing cold reading the re-written dialogue for the first time on the new pink pages, I blanched to hear our Director say “again, it’s just that easy my friends!  What’s next?”

Frankly I was (as I often am) baffled.  Was there some tacit understanding that as a stand-in, little to nothing was expected out of me at a Network Run-Thru?  Was this one more situation of “do your job as a meat puppet” and leave the nuances to the REAL Actress?  Or was this some kind of psychological mind-fuckery wherein I was being taught another Cosmic lesson not to take comedy so seriously???

Our lead Actor present on stage to perform a couple of two-person scenes, I waited off-stage for my cue in a bedroom that doesn’t exist, feeling very small and terribly out of sorts next to a forgotten ladder and a very forlorn looking fern.  Some of my Second Team were giving me the cold shoulder for being the new kid and getting not only an extra day’s pay prior to observe, but also the extra hundred bucks for playing my Actress; I was anxious about the Network Run-Thru with only one rehearsal per scene under my belt, and at that point I was relatively certain that my Director – my safety net – had forsaken me as well in lieu of an early-out Friday afternoon.

Oddly, however, these tend to be moments of epiphany for me.  (Why half of them occur awaiting making an entrance on stage may be symbolic, but I’m not quite that enlightened yet…)

Although, if all I really had to rely on was me, then I had to believe in myself!

And performing the first of two scenes with the lead Actor to the best of my abilities, our Director strode up to us purposefully.  (EEK!) 

“I love the dynamics, but you guys are gonna kill me camera-wise on Monday” he announced loudly.  “If you could maybe meet more downstage here like thus, I can get better eyes on both of you, OK?  Let’s give that a shot” he smiled, returning to his podium and shouting (for the second time!), “Ready, steady, and action!”

(Sure, I was still nothing more than an adjustable meat puppet, but at least I got one more crack at a rehearsal of BOTH of my lines this time!!!)

“Let’s continue out of order and do scene P before we break for lunch” our First AD recommended, my lead Actor and myself already present on set.  And taking my designated seat on the couch once again (I LOVE my Actress and her preferred choices of blocking), I attempted to fester with all due proper irritation as the script had called for.  (Grrr!)

We were to have a heated marital argument, but personally amused by the writing I couldn’t help but deliver my Actress’ punch line comedically.  (What can I say, it cracked me up!)  But one second later, our Director strode AGAIN purposefully onto the set, bent down, and whispered quietly in my ear.

“Thank you” I nodded aloud as he walked away, whipping off the mechanical pencil dangling on my studio ID hanging around my neck and making a note in my script for the Run-Thru.

>>><<<

Just as I don’t understand why doing the job I’ve done in Hollywood for twenty-plus years brings me ridiculous joy, nor can I explain the unease I continue to feel before every performance on this particularly long-running show.  I’m well aware that the Producer/Writing staff want me to succeed in selling their jokes; yet as the fledgling in the nest of my new home, I can’t quite seem to knock the feeling that I haven’t been “accepted”.

But wrapping a protective arm around me again, I nestled into the nook of our lead Actor’s gargantuan bicep,(*sigh!*) as our First AD reminded the Network Suits that I was once again standing-in for one of our Actresses.  And hearing a smattering chorus of “thank you!/welcome back Penny!” from friendly people that, by all accounts SHOULD NOT EVEN DEIGN TO KNOW MY NAME, I smiled weakly; eyes on the script, eyes on the script, eyes on the script!!!

>>><<<

“Nicely done!” one of my non-icy Second Teamers commented, gathering his belongings and escorting me politely to the parking structure, the rest of our group already gone.  “And I noticed you even got a bit of direction on the P scene!” he cheered, pleased that despite our lowly status in the biz, our Director had taken the time to suggest an alternate delivery.  “So, what did he say to you?” he wondered.

“He told me to keep the argument hot, and despite my natural sit-com instincts, make the absolutely absurd dialogue completely sincere.”

“Wow…” he mused; mentally replaying the scene for himself should he need to do the dialogue for Mr. Furrowed Brow on camera-blocking day.  “That makes perfect sense.”

(Oh, the irony of that statement!)

Still nesting for now and waiting for my wings to grow,

~Fledgling P

Author’s Addendum:  Turns out I’ll be standing-in for a guest star at our next table read once again, plus rehearsing for her the following day.  C’mon downy feathers, molt already!!!