The grad school apps are all in, minus one hard-copy letter of recommendation which may or may not be on its way to me as we speak, and which I'd prefer not to discuss any further lest my head explode;
I've chosen my pieces for my auditions, and have them memorized;
I've submitted my limited-due-to-rehearsal availability to my boss, and she hasn't killed me;
And, oh yeah, I turned 30 last Friday.
So anyway...
I am having a serious actor's dilemma right now, and I'm going to vent to you about it. I know you all aren't actors (or, at least, those of you that I know aren't--lurking thespians, now would be an excellent time to come out of the closet, so to speak), but I'm sure there is some way this situation could compare to one that occurs off-stage, so hear me out.
We've started rehearsing for the show I'm doing in February, and for the most part I am delighted with this particular cast. They're funny, they're friendly, and best of all, they are fucking talented. It's awesome.
With one small problem.
There is a TON--I mean scads, loads, heaps, pailfuls--of sexual subtext in this play.
That's not the problem.
The problem, is that the man toward whom all of my closeted Victorian lust is supposed to be directed... is one to whom I am not in the least bit attracted. At all. Even slightly.
More to the point: he actually creeps me out a little.
He's nearly twice my age--due to my being cast in a role that even my aged 30-year-old-self is a bit too young for--and for whatever inexplicable reason, my body just wants to... recoil... whenever he comes near.
Now yes, I am aware that this is why it's called "Acting," but dear god! How am I supposed to drum up even a semblance of lust when my instincts are screaming at me to run the other way?!
I feel a little guilty even talking about it, even though none of you know who he is--very few of you even know who *I* am--as he is, I'm sure, a very nice man, and I don't mean this to be a diatribe against him as an individual, it's just...
Sometimes there's chemistry... and sometimes... there's the opposite.
This is most definitely the opposite.
I am so fucked.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
The Opposite.
Posted by the frog princess at 9:48 PM
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4 comments:
Oh, Froggy, I feel your pain. Welcome to, oh, about every show I've ever done. I dont' think I have EVER been cast opposite someone who I found remotely attractive, except for the one time I was cast opposite my ex-boyfriend, and that was a whole other issue.
Unfortunately, I don't really have any advice. Usually I just have to do my best to fake it. It's so hard though. At least it's closeted Victorian lust and not full-on make-out-throughout-the-whole-play lust.
Maybe it'll be like Joey on Friends... the more chemistry there is off stage, the less there is on stage, and vice versa? I hope so, anyway!
Happy belated birthday!
Just pretend he's me! Bwahahahaha!!!
Seriously, sorry, I got nothin', but at least if you manage to pull it off you'll have passed a real test, right?
How about pretending it is perpetually Opposite Day while you are on stage? I dunno....I got nothing.
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