It Pours, Man it Pours

     On days like today I get really down on myself.  I get depressed, and defeatist, and I just sit and do nothing because I am too overwhelmed to focus on anything.  Anxiety about career, life, past, present, future, and more than anything money.  It keeps me up too late, only to make me wake up with stress over and over again some nights.  There is nothing glamorous about the days in between making something out here.

     On days like today I waste time, because I shut down.  Nothing can shut me down faster and harder than money.  Money I don't have, money I don't know how to get, and worst of all money I owe.  LA is a vortex that money is swallowed down, fast and constantly.  Rent is higher than most places, jobs are just as competitive to land as an audition, and like most films you usually have an in if you know someone already on board. 

     I came to LA with an umbrella to shield myself from rainy days like these.  I became a Massage Therapist.  Flexible hours, good pay, and when I worked at The Beverly Hilton for 2 years I did some films, just got my shifts covered.  It was a great set up, I was surviving even if I was thriving.  Then LA reminded me how the country was having some money troubles, and the entire Spa was laid off.

     Since then  I suppose I've been flopping around like a fish out of water, and things sure have been dry.  Some odd jobs here and there, but I can't get caught up.  My move to LA still haunts my credit history, now I have to pick and choose what bills of mine I can pick at after rent and utilities are paid, which is hard enough to scrape together.  Sometimes I say to myself: "It's just money, not happiness."  But it's also the way to live life with your friends and family.  You miss out when you can't afford things, and you piss off people when you owe them money.

     Mental and emotional stability are a delicate balance just like chemistry to an artist.  A crushing heartbreak gives you Adele's "21" album.  It's usually an inspiration out of love, lust, despair, regret, or any other numerous powerful emotional experience that great, unforgettable things are made from.  Too little of any of these things can lead to stagnancy and boredom, which can murder creativity in the face.  Too much,  and people can be pushed over the edge and go hysterical or even catatonic from emotional overload.  I've seen and lived both sides, and that happy medium where you are inspired but content is usually only felt in transition between the two.  I'm not saying my outlook is entirely a pessimistic one, I count my blessings on the daily.  I am jaded by my struggle and sore from the seemingly never ending uphill struggle, but I'm early in this industry and life.

     You are out here selling yourself, your mind, body, and often soul.  When it isn't making you the millions you feel you're worth it is easy to fall into a state of fear and doubt.  Maybe I'm in the red, maybe it's crazy and I wake up in my bed panicked, but I'm waking up in my bed in Los Angeles, CA where I've moved to pursue my dreams.  Sometimes I make big strides to those dreams, sometimes baby-steps, and most gloomy days I feel like I'm completely still (or think about a movie I did that felt like a big step backwards).  No matter which way or how fast I move, those are my footprints.  Dues are being paid in full, if only rent could be too right now.

Back to One

     We've already talked about the wonders of craigslist findings!  You  can find the occasional acting gig on it, I know I found my first one there.  It was a mere two months after moving out here.  I landed a great job as a Massage Therapist (yes I went to school for that in hopes of using it one day in LA) at The Beverly Hilton, and another job as a weekend graveyard concierge at a fancy apartment complex in Westwood.  I was kicking my ass trying to make my atrocious $850 a month for rent in my shitty Bachelor Studio, plus all of my bills.  I was not making it, and my credit cards were maxing out and then not being paid off.

     I was optimistic though.  I was working really hard over the weekends, doing the graveyard shifts two nights, then heading straight down the road to The Hilton right after my Saturday night shift on Sunday morning to nap on the table until I had a massage.  Even though this routine wore me down, and my two cats started going in heat around that time, and I had NO money to take them to the vet and fix that yet, I had my weekdays wide open.  I could surf the internet and submit with my extremely amateur headshots I had at the time, and I was going to Second City for classes twice a week!



     I used to remember what I was doing and where I was when I got the call for this "audition".  I no longer can recall those details, but I remember driving straight to that warehouse in Downtown LA to meet with a man I would work with several more times, he was the UPM (unit production manager) named Michael.  He had me wait upstairs where there were a bunch of people stretching and pairing off to do staged fighting routines.  Now as Unit Production Manager, Michael should not have been able to cast me right then and there, but on this film he could.  And he did.  So, because I was tall, and my fight partner was tall, I was cast.

My partner was someone that I would know for quite a while longer, Hudson.  He was became my first real friend out here, and we hung out all the time.  We also both went to these unpaid, daily fight rehearsals, none the wiser that it shouldn't really work like that.  It was weeks, without a script, without any idea really what this movie was about.  Hudson even got to come up with the fight moves!  We had a martial art instructor who was the lead of the movie come and guide us, but overall two inexperienced actors in film and fighting were sent to do their own thing.

 Finally I find out some info about the movie.  Again, I can't remember what it was originally called, but I remember finding out that the Director,  a former Argentinian rocker, was telling us all we'd be on HBO. We couldn't believe it were pumped, and we shouldn't have.  He believed that because his last film was on HBO, unbeknownst to us it was porn.  This was not a porn we were assured, there would be some topless nudity, but we didn't need to worry about it.  The group of women I was with were all assassins from the future you see, and he already had some topless sex scenes when he originally tried to film this movie in Europe previously.

     There was some mysterious producer named Pablo that was always on the phone fighting with the Director.  He was a quiet man with a baseball hat, and long coat on at all times.  He was from Argentina, but his accent seemed Eastern European.  He spoke fine English, but what couldn't translate to him was how film sets were run in the United States.  All of us, so green and almost everyone making their film debut in this feature, had no idea that when our call time was 3pm to be on set and he didn't walk in til 8pm that was a bad thing.  He was always late, and most of us just laid around and then were sent home in our black tights and corsets, that we were made to purchase ourselves.

         One day I was lounging about in the warehouse, I'm going to call this my most important day on any set to date.  There I was in my corset and tights wielding my katana when the production designer (person in charge of making all the sets and in this case handle all of the props) walked to the room about to be shot, very frazzled.  I walked up to him and said: "Hey, let me know if you need any help with anything."

Three years later he still lets me know when he needs help, as a matter of fact he lets me know just about everything because he is my very best friend and collaborator, someone that I trust the input and value the opinion of on everything in my life.  Paul Bianchi had moved to Los Angeles nearly a year before me, and was a budding writer and production designer.  He was fairly green to film as well, but so incredibly talented at making something from nothing, and boy on this set was there a whole lot of nothing for him to pull from.

     We all began to slowly realize that this film was all over the place.  Milos changed the story again, not rewrites...THE ENTIRE STORY.  The one day we did film and I got a little bit of screen time he had us walk in these stupid hooker boots and he used this crane to get the four of us coming toward him.  He kept screwing up the shot and saying "Back to one," with that fucking accent.  It is an inside joke to this day between Paul and I.  We were on set for about 20 hours that day, and as we left at dawn and walked up to collect checks.  Michael looked very uncomfortable.  He cut us all checks for $50.00.  My mind was blown, how could it be so little?  We had been there for weeks doing FREE rehearsals, and then we spent 20  hours doing our stupid fight scene and walking for HOURS!  My mind was blown that I didn't discuss payment, that I was so naive.

Sleeping on set.

       I think I did one more day on set, and then something happened where the film was a break for a while.  We all went to the Director's apartment one day to view the cut of old, and new footage he pasted together.  He had me audition for a bigger role, told me I was a leader but I needed to act with my eyes.  Paul pulled me aside when I left feeling dejected, and said "He's only directed porn, he means he wants you to look dead behind the eyes."  Comforting words like those are why Paul and I are going to know each other forever.

If you can't believe that I wasn't already driven away by the terrible script, the disorganization, the wasted time, and the fact that I made the make-up artist laugh so hard she dropped the iron on my arm and gave me a scar that only this year finally isn't visible, prepare yourself for the last straw.  I get a call out of nowhere that the production is now in Vegas, and that I needed to be there in a few days.  I had some BIG scenes.   Sounds great.  This is also months later.  I ask if they have a vehicle or plane ticket for me, I get to talk to the mysterious Pablo finally.  The man behind the curtain tells me that if I drive out there they will reimburse my gas.  I tell them I don't have the gas money for a 5 hour trip to Vegas so I won't be going, and I never heard from them again.
 












Damnit woman, pull yourself together before you burn the shit out of my arm.
  
     Paul dropped out as Production Designer then too, but we didn't hurt or stop the film.  As a matter of fact, this weird mutant went on to be recast, even poor Jack who was once the lead and was stunt coordinating for free was cut.  He changed the story and cast again, and the title of the film.    I wish I was kidding when I say that just a few months ago, and then even more recently I received a casting notice from LACasting.com in my email for a film that was very clearly the new version of this film.  The Director is still recasting and tweeking.


     As much that was wrong about the film and the filming process, it was a good first experience and I gained invaluable knowledge and relationships from it.