Wicked Little Town

Give Up and Get "Carnivále"

Cynthia Ettinger is glad she was fired from "Smallville" two years ago. Otherwise she'd now be playing Martha Kent (Annette O'Toole replaced her after the pilot was done) rather than Rita Sue Dreifuss, a tough-as-nails middle-aged cooch dancer whose two teenage daughters perform alongside her in HBO's intriguing Dust Bowl carny series "Carnivále."

Indeed, after being axed from the hit WB show -- a relief, she said, because she was making herself miserable trying to please several different producers rather than just insisting on her own take on the role -- the tall, busty, blonde Ettinger did the opposite of a career move: She gained weight and did theatre. "Theatre people are my people," she said. "When I first started doing television, I wanted to kill myself--they just weren't my people."

With edgy, ambitious writing and a gritty, smoky shoot in Santa Clarita over the summer, "Carnivále" ending up feeling closer to a theatre job, she said. "The cast is made up of people who are willing to do anything," she said. "There's no room for divas who need to make sure their feet don't hurt. And it's great to do a job where you don't have to worry what you look like.

"I spent so many years trying to fit into a mold--to be just regular and pretty, so nobody would know I'm eccentric. When I finally said, I'm through with that, it's not working for me, I get the greatest role of my life, and it's perfect for me."

Even in an industry built on fakery, truth can be stronger than fiction.

The Queen Is Dead, Long Live the Queen

How many performers get a standing ovation five weeks after they're put in the ground? A precious few -- maybe at the Oscars now and then.

Precious is definitely one word for the late Pamela Gordon, whose towering legacy on the local stage scene was honored with this week with a moving 90-minute memorial tribute at Evidence Room, one of the 66-year-old actress' theatre homes. Other words would include "mysterious, wickedly funny, and graceful" (playwright Kelly Stuart), "a gift to writers" (playwright Jennifer Maisel), "innately lively" (playwright Dennis Miles), "so frail, delicate, and beautiful -- and then she spoke" (filmmaker Jacques Thelemaque). Afterwards, I spoke to Shannon Holt, who called Pamela "the queen of the tribe" of L.A. theatre makers.

In attendance were such luminaries as Megan Mullally, Leslie Hope, Dan Butler, and David Schweizer. Highlights included actress Ames Ingham's teary tribute to her "theatre mother and sister"; a reading by Robert Fieldsteel from a wacky 20-year-old play script that writer/director John Cassavetes had tailored to Pamela's talents, opposite his wife, Gena Rowlands; and a closing tribute of clips from Pamela's wide range of on-camera work. This visual record is not all that remains of Pamela's indomitable, questing spirit. Critic Steven Leigh Morris -- who called one turn of hers "a cross between a phantom and an elf" -- aptly reminded us that there are "performances of Pamela that will live on in the minds of anyone who saw her." Or heard that dusky, husky voice, or that cackling guffaw.

If you listen, you can still hear its echo bouncing around the stages of L.A.

'Rashomonk'

Most auditions are emotional pressure cookers that allow only a few minutes to make an impression -- and the impressions go both ways between auditioner and auditionee. There can be as many opinions about what occurred in any given casting session as there were people in the room. "Rashomon" has nothing on the perceptual fractures that result.

So last week when actor Matt North told "Wicked Little Town" that his recent audition for the role of a garbageman on USA Networks' "Monk" was, in his view, cut short and then soured by an apparently sarcastic quip from star/producer Tony Shalhoub, it didn't take long for the show's producers to call and refute his verson of events. They had the audition on videotape, and I went to watch it to try to cut through the contentions and judge the documentary evidence.

The tape shows two actors -- North and the scene partner he'd met minutes before, as is standard practice -- reading a brief scene as two garbagemen with the offscreen voice of Shalhoub, in the role of obsessive-compulsive detective Adrian Monk. The other actor has the majority of the lines, and North has just a few; the scene closes with Shalhoub saying, "God bless you and God bless your work," and the tape ends.

North says he was miffed because he'd been asked to prepare both garbagemen roles, but was only allowed to read for the smaller part; hence his sense that the audition was cut short; however, the two actors did perform an entire reading. North then interpreted Shalhoub's "God bless" as a patronizing post-audition kiss-off to the actors.

However, the "God bless" comment is actually a line from the script, not an ad-lib jab. And on the videotape I viewed, it does sound like it's delivered as part of the scene, not as a post-scene comment.

Now, could North perhaps have received some vibe from the producers that the audition was essentially already over by that point? And did it thus seem that Shalhoub was dismissing the actors with the line, scripted or not? It's possible, but since the producers are unseen on the tape and it all goes by so quickly, it's hard to say what non-verbal messages, if any, were being conveyed in that room. Indeed, the very quickness of the exchange may be part of what rubbed North the wrong way and made the experience feel sour. But many seasoned actors feel similarly rushed through the unforgiving grind of the audition process, and in most cases it's no one's fault but the clock's.

Everyone involved with the show affirmed that Shalhoub is among the "most giving and generous" actors (sub. req.) they've worked with, citing his reading with guest star auditioners as a case in point. (And I should say that I interviewed Shalhoub and his wife, Brooke Adams (sub. req.), in their home some years ago, and they were nothing less than gracious.) Amy Britt, the casting director who brought North in, said she was puzzled by his version of events but unswayed about North's talent. "I love Matt, Matt's great, and I've called him in on many things," she said. But if she doesn't call him in again for "Monk," safe to say he probably won't mind.

Scribe 'Standing' by Blank

At 25, Austin Winsberg is young for a TV writer, but he had a headstart, winning the Blank Theatre Company's annual Young Playwrights Festival five years in a row back in his teens.

Though he's currently working on "Still Standing" and working up a pilot for next season, he still keeps his hand in the Young Playwrights Fest, serving on the play selection jury and directing -- this year it's 19-year-old Ginger Healy's "Mousy Brown," (scroll to the bottom) starring "Good Morning, Miami" regular Constance Zimmer. It seems the Blank's leaders, Daniel Henning and Noah Wyle, have a way with coaxing name actors into the mix: Others who participated in this year's Fest included Tom Lenk, Gregory Jbara, Richard Kline, Amber Benson, Danny Strong and Jon Shear.

Though we spotted a real live casting professional at a recent performance of "funny...", a full run of the 2003 fest's two winning selections, Winsberg assured us he wasn't nabbed directly from his teens into Hollywood; he went away and studied at Brown, then came back to pursue writing. Still, a headstart is a headstart.

England to 'Arcadia,' and Back

"I'm not God," quipped Andrew Ableson, who instead played a snooty fashion editor on CBS' "Joan of Arcadia". If the show is renewed, though, he hopes to return, and, since the show often has the Deity speak through various random guest stars to Amber Tamblyn's lead, "Who knows?" Ableson said. "Anyone could turn into God at any moment."

The consumptively handsome Englishman (who clearly inherited some of his father's looks) has been on the West Coast for 9 years, and though most of his work on stage and screen has been in his native tongue, so to speak, he often auditions with a neutral American accent, as he did for the "Joan" part. It wasn't until he was hired and was chatting with producers in his everyday accent -- which he places as "very contemporary, sort of middle-class London" -- that they upgraded the part to English.

The accent gets him a lot of voiceover work (he's the resident baddie, Valmont, on Jackie Chan's animated show), and it landed him a lark of a role on "The Bold and the Beautiful" as Rafael of London, a jet-setting stylist who did a makeover on longtime lead Susan Flannery (which "B&B" diehards knew was in fact the long-overdue shedding of a blonde wig for Flannery's naturally short silver hair).

Closer to Ableson's heart is a partnership with a fellow expatriate, TV director Sarah Pia Anderson, to develop playwright Mark Ravenhill's "Some Explicit Polaroids" into a feature film -- the first adaptation allowed by the bad-boy Brit scribe. It probably helped cinch the deal that Ableson starred in definitive West Coast productions of Ravenhill's "Shopping & F***ing". "Anyone could turn into God," indeed.

Actors Drop Out for Upstage Moves

Actors who work in L.A.'s pervasive Equity 99-Seat Plan -- more commonly known as "Equity Waiver," since it essentially waives most union protections and mandates a mere $7-15 per performance -- often leave shows, either temporarily or for good, to take well-paying work in film and TV. There's no shame in it. It's really the only way many of these thesps can make ends meet -- but it does mean that from week to week even the best 99-seat show can vary widely in quality. Some theatres have to cancel or postpone performances; some hold the curtain for as much as a half hour while an actor races into town from a shoot in the desert.

In what may be an encouraging sign, some local actors have had to dump their 99-seat shows for better-paying work ... in local theatre. Chet Grissom opened as Grumio in Zoo District's recent staging of "Taming of the Shrew" at Downtown's Orpheum Theatre, but had to drop out for a part in "Terra Nova" at South Coast Rep. Kamal Marayati (sometimes credited as Kamal Maray) was slated to appear in Cornerstone's current "You Can't Take It With You: An American Muslim Remix" (scroll down) at LATC, but landed an understudy/ensemble part in "Homebody/Kabul" at the Taper.

And last year director Jessica Kubzansky lost three leads -- Mark Bramhall, Robertson Dean, and Jenna Cole -- from her production of "Measure for Measure" at A Noise Within when they were cast in the Pasadena Playhouse's Noel Coward confection, "Star Quality". Mixed blessings all, but at least these actors are staying on the boards.

Artios Awards

Last week's Artios Awards offered the usual festival of self-congratulation for casting directors, who are bent out of shape that Emmy recognizes their art but not Oscar. (Little-known fact: Casting Society of America members must nominate themselves for the honor, which means that some of Hollywood's more modest talent-seeking pros will never get a statuette.) Presenter Christine Lahti had the quotable quip of the evening, thanking casting directors for "convincing the director that it's not because I'm not talented that I didn't get the part, it's because I'm too tall. After all, the camera adds 10 inches."

Lahti may also be thought too old for Hollywood: She was reportedly attached to a pilot about a governor's widow, similar to the real-life story of Jean Carnahan, but studio suits wanted Minnie Driver instead, effectively killing the deal. Jeff Bridges was on hand to give tribute to casting pioneer Lynn Stalmaster, and Larry Miller imagined the hell that casting folks' Thanksgiving dinners must be, since every family gathering he attends features some would-be stage mom pushing their dubiously talented spawn in his general direction. It seems a casting director's work is never done.

Borba's Non-Automatic Transition

Andrew Borba has learned to "never say 'never ever' ever." In cockier days -- when he was studying drama at NYU, perhaps, or working on a cushy repertory contract at Oregon Shakespeare Festival -- Borba had told friends, "I'll never ever ever go to L.A. unless someone paid for my plane ticket because I've got a part." But then he married a development executive from HBO, had twins, and finally committed to making the stage-to-film transition.

How's it going, then? Despite some casting directors seeming "skeptical that I didn't come here when I was 18," things have been moving for him: He recently landed his first national commercial, which afforded him the financial freedom to direct a virtually non-paying 99-Seat production of Hamlet at Theatre of NOTE; he landed a part on Alias and this week read for a role on The Practice (both with famously theatre-loving casting offices). In his late 30s, with leading-man looks that suggest a balding Eric McCormack, Borba remains upbeat.

"It's like Han Solo says when he goes into the meteor shower: 'Never tell me the odds.' If I looked at the odds, I wouldn't still be in this business."

Disney Hall's Casting Call

Think of them as "Behind the Music," L.A. Philharmonic-style.

Disney Hall won't just have one gala opening (there's a series of galas, in fact, Oct. 23-25, with the last one a star-studded showcase of film music produced by Kathleen Kennedy and Steven Spielberg). In November a series of "First Nights" will feature live actors enacting playlets amid and around the music. Actors will portray Stravinsky, Diaghilev, and Nijinsky, for instance, discussing the creation of "Le Sacre du Printemps" (The Rite of Spring), at the Nov. 7 performance by the L.A. Phil. The author for that evening's text is none other than John DeLancie, best known as Q on Star Trek and a busy regional theatre actor as well. Others planned include an actor as Beethoven for the Dec. 19 performance of Ludwig's 5th. (Might we suggest the title "Deaf Jam"? Ouch, sorry.)

It's an idea that proves either really interesting or really cheesy. Either way it's nice to know that the L.A. Phil is giving a properly theatrical flair to its biggest opening since Buffy Chandler christened her namesake pavilion. It makes us wonder if the "Matrix Revolutions" premiere, scheduled for Disney Hall on Oct. 27, will have any live component (understanding that Keanu Reeves and "live" are not words one readily associates).

Schism Over Monk's Blessing

Update 10/24/2003...

I got a passionate response from the publicist and one of the producers of "Monk" after posting this item. That's not how it happened, according to co-producer Randy Zisk. North and his partner got through the whole scene, reading it with Shalhoub -- and the "God bless" send-off was actually the last line of the script, not an impromptu jab from Shalhoub. Casting director Amy Britt confirmed that the lines were indeed in the script. North said that even his scene partner -- someone he'd only met before the audition -- told North he'd gotten the same impression of Shalhoub's sarcasm. Who to believe? Well, auditions are often recorded, so I watched the tape. Read about it here.

Original post...

In what business would a seasoned job applicant be asked to prepare a sample of his work, then be paired in his job interview with a lunkheaded stranger -- and then not even be allowed a chance to present his work? Where else but in acting, of course.

Matt North -- whom viewers may recognize as the right-wing lawyer for the prosecution in the Showtime drama "Dirty Pictures," or as Jason Alexander's agent in an episode of "Curb Your Enthusiasm" -- is more or less used to the routine indignities of auditioning, but he doesn't need to have his face rubbed in it. That's what "Monk" star Tony Shalhoub apparently did recently, after North's audition went poorly.

North had been paired with an under-rehearsed actor so the two could audition for a scene as two garbagemen; the other actor botched a few pages of lines, while North got to say about three words--and by then the producers had seen as much they thought they wanted. This was bad enough, but Shalhoub added insult to injury, North said, by announcing, with patronizing facetiousness, "Gentlemen, God bless you and God bless your work." North said it took all his strength not to reply, "Tony, you went way over the top in 'Big Night.' "