Geoffrey Gould’s Blog

I just auditioned for a student film up at AFI this morning (I’m told I would know by Tuesday); to my surprise afterward I found my friend David Schroeder waiting to audition for the same role…!

This morning I went down to USC for the audition class. As I was heading to my temp day-job from there, I arrived at the 8:50am class around 7:20am.
With an hour and a half with which to wait, I drowsed for about an hour, waking up just before Hilde (with whom I made the appointment, and I now presume may be the teacher’s aide), apologetically had to bring into the classroom the sofa on which I had been sitting. She put out a sign-in sheet, already aware I was first. By the time I was done and headed out there were about five men and one woman waiting.
Hilde took our sets of headshots and resumes and brought them in; I’d taken the liberty of attaching my demo reel DVD disc, as it looks much cleaner than its YouTube variant. The class’s teacher Nina Foch had already thanked those of us already waiting, before heading into the class herself (at the time I did not know who she was, as she never introduced herself, nor did anyone introduce her to us).
Hilde had given us each sides which turned out to be a few pages from different movies. Mine was a scene from Moonstruck, which as it turns out, I’ve never actually seen, which probably is a Very Good Thing, as it had me auditioning a scene as though it had never been done.
I studied my scene while inside the teacher worked with the class. Hilde came out and called me inside.
I’ve done over forty student films, but this was the first time it was more than one to three people: it was about thirty plus, or certainly seemed that way. But at the very front of the multitude was a table next to which was the teacher, and behind which was (I think her name was) Debbie. I said hello and shook her hand, as well as Conner, who would be reading the lines in the scene with me. The scene was straight-forward enough that I barely had to consult the pages, but the reading wasn’t first up.
Debbie started out with a simple question such as how long had I been in Los Angeles, but the teacher cut her off. I said nothing as I knew a process was going on. The teacher did a polite aside, indicate she was teaching [the class] how to audition [actors]. I just waited, intrigued with the process.
The teacher pointed out not to ask direct questions, and demonstrated, saying, “Tell me about going to medieval festivals.” I began to recount the fun involved, my attending in garb and before hand collecting dollar coins with which to pay for things, et al. The teacher gently prodded about what I wear and how I behave at the faire, et al. Debbie made an attempt, “but” began to ask if I climbed rope ladder games at the faire. I presume she meant to ask that. She got as far as “climbing rope–” when the teacher corrected her again, pointing out, and speaking in a robotic voice, “You might as well be asking, ‘Tell me what you can do, hu-man’…”
She stressed [Debbie] doesn’t have to ask What Can You Do?, when by just listening [the actor] will convey everything s/he can do.
So we got to the reading. Connor clearly is not an actor: his read was similar to how Randy’s character on My Name is Earl reads aloud. He wasn’t the worst. I did my best, and the teacher thanked me, as did Debbie, who asked if I could do it one more time. She realized she couldn’t quite communicate what she wanted adjusted. She was trying to request a stronger attitude with the big line towards the end. The director was even more confused that I, asking what motivation did she want me to have? Debbie couldn’t quite articulate what she sought, and the teacher gently kept driving home the point What Motivation was wanted? Debbie expressed wanting my being more assertive. She and the teacher agreed the rest had been spot on.
I did the scene again from the top, ironically being stopped just shy of the big line to which Debbie had referred, but I had shifted the last line I had said, a bit more lovingly. I guess that was the line to which she’d actually referred.
I was thanked but before I left, the teacher pointed out to me I should have my headshot redone; it’s completely wrong. “The rule is,” she said. “Men up; women down,” defining that as photographing upwards for males and photographing down for females. My photo is shot downwards. She told me the photo was “killing” me; they’d all seen my headshot and “then suddenly this handsome man walks in,” the class from which she acquired concurrence.
Ack. I’d gotten the new headshot from a good friend who did it for free as she was building a portfolio so as to become professional headshot photographer. I’ll have to see if she’ll charge me. If she’s open to a reshoot, I can certainly take her to lunc for it [bg], but if she charges “headshot prices,” my photographer roommate certainly could do it [g]…